"You are interested in the unknown, the mysterious, the unexplainable. That is why you are here. And now, for the first time, I am bringing to you the full story of what happened on that fateful night. I am giving you all the evidence, based only on the public testimony, of the miserable soul who survived this terrifying ordeal. The incident, the place, my friends, I can not keep this a secret any longer. Let us punish the guilty, let us reward the innocent. My friends, can your heart stand the shocking facts about Simon's ruined orgasm?"
You heard it right. The boy who doesn't want to cum has done so. I can just imagine the surprise and horror you understandably feel. After a mere one hundred and some days? Why would he do that? When did it happen, and how? The story you're about to hear it true. And, like in all good stories, the main point is not to tell something happened, but why, and under what kind of circumstances it did so.
As you all know, I celebrated my 100 day cum ban anniversary recently. However, as you all know as well, I do my chastity more or less alone. That meant my big anniversary was also a rather lonely day for me. After a couple of days had passed I started to feel I had earned some sort of reward. Not an actual orgasm, since that would be rather pointless. But perhaps a really long edging session?
One thing I haven't gotten around to tell you yet is that I have managed to get my erotic fiction writing going again. I won't go into detail yet, and I will post it to my fiction blog as soon as I consider it's ready. The writing has progressed very slowly, though, because I naturally edge at the same time and one cannot keep it up very long.
An interesting thing happened a few nights ago though. I have had the main arc of the story figured out in my head for a while now, but I hadn't written it down. That night I took all my clothes off, sat down, took my limp penis in my hand, and started to edge and write.
Then, something quite amazing happened. The rest of the world just disappeared. I wrote and edged for an hour, then two hours more, then three hours. I kept edging and living the story. The fact that it was already morning outside didn't matter to me. Nor how sore my limp penis was. When I had gotten almost to the end I realized I had the first, very, very hard draft almost done I was so tired I had literally trouble keeping my eyes open, turned my computer off and collapsed on the bed.
I woke up late in the afternoon, horny as usual, went straight to my computer, turned it back on and started to go through the stuff I had been writing the previous night. It was extremely rough, but I was pleased with it, and started to add depth to it. Naturally I started edging my limp dick, again. I understood how depraved it all was, but it didn't matter to me. This was my reward.
At some point I visited the grocery store, since I realized after my edging is over I would need to eat, and my fridge was completely empty. There is a certain humiliating quality in going to one's around the corner grocery story that's open later than the stores here normally, ten minutes before it closes, still unshaven and knowing it's because you haven't done nothing but edged the whole day.
I had put on just enough clothes to look decent: trousers and a sort of wool sweater. As soon as I had gotten back home, even before putting the groceries away, I got rid of my clothes again, sat on my computer and continued pulling my penis.
As I look that 24 hour period back now, especially the latter part of it, it is somewhat difficult to put into order what happened and when. There was just me, my toys, the story as I was writing and of course my limp penis.
Almost everything I have told or going to tell you about my wanking activities in this post is old news to you, things I have told about many times on my blog. Except one thing. And this is something I want to share with you next.
As you know, I have a "wanking mirror", one I have at my bathroom door, and if put it just the right position I watch myself at the computer. There is one drawback to it, however. At my left side, between me and the mirror there is a part of my desk that blocks my view to the main event and the center of the action, that is to say, my limp penis and my hand pulling to it.
I have spent many hours trying to solve this my problem. I have even considered buying one full length mirror more I could move about and put somewhere as I masturbate. However, it would be rather hard to explain having it lying around in my apartment.
As I was masturbating, however, I got a stroke of genius. I visited my storage room in the basement of my apartment and remembered I had a couple of pieces of mirror I had used to make my full body mirrors in my apartment with. Could they be of help? I tried several places for them, but each was more poor then the last one.
Then, as a last resort I tried to put one on my computer desk so that it was resting to the side of my screen. A wide smile appeared on my face as I realized the position was perfect! I couldn't see my face, but everything from neck down, all the way to half way of my thigh.
As I started to masturbate it was hard to describe my feelings. Having to look himself masturbate like that was humiliating beyond belief. It was like being watched, and at the same time watching someone else to masturbate. With the difference, it was me who was doing both the masturbating and watching. In a way it was also like watching the hottest porn imaginable from a high definition screen. After all, the rectangular piece were almost as wide as my computer screen.
However, the best was yet to come. It took me a couple of hours to realize I did have two of those things. What if I took out the other one as well? I did just that, and set it up on the other side of the screen, slightly tilted.
As I sat down, you should have seen my face, or the sight before me. Not one, but two life size versions of myself under the hard light of my desk lamp. As I continued edging, it was very hard to concentrate on the erotic imaged or the text I was writing, and not stare my own image masturbating my pathetically small dick.
At some point I had dug out also my clothespins, as well. I was doing my edging with my windows and balcony door open, and the cool air caressing my naked body practically invited my nipples out and to be played with. Also, when I edge, pain becomes an extremely strong aphrodisiac. When one considers I edged most of that 24 hour period, it goes without saying my eager nipples experienced quite a ride that night.
It was also a totally new and exciting experience to look at myself from the two mirrors I mentioned with a brightly colored, big clothespin biting nasty on my each nipple. I also noticed the mirrors were very handy when putting the pins on, and defining the exact place on the nipple where the pin would hurt the most.
Naturally at some point I got out my butt plugs as well. It's still hard for me to get over how strange sex toys they are. Before one indulges using them the mere thought seems a bit repulsive, scary even. But as soon as you've managed to get your ass relaxed and gotten your biggest toy in, and you're sitting on it, rocking yourself back and forth, so that the wonderful toy touches you just the right way it impossible for you to understand how could you have any hesitation.
So, one could say that bit by bit I was using everything that belonged to my erotic smögåsbord. However, it was very rare I used all of them at the same time.
At some point I realized that only thing that was no longer missing was drinking water. After all, it had been ages since I had done bladder torture properly, and this seemed a perfect occasion for it. Also, I started becoming more and more horny and reaching a state in which more nasty means more erotic.
What was curious this time was the fact that even though there was a slight pressure as I started, the first two pints had no effect whatsoever. Then again, I hadn't done anything but masturbated the past day or so, which meaning the first two pints were most likely used by my body.
As the night progressed I continued edging and drinking water pint after pint waiting for it to have the effect I longed for, my bladder being so full it hurt to walk, and sending sweet flashes of pain all through my body. Gradually I got closer to it, but for some reason or the other, this time the stage of extreme pain never came. Despite the fact I poured all in all 2,5 liters of water down my throat in a course of few hours.
As the clocked closed 2 AM I stared to think in my half-crazed mind how nasty and depraved it would be if, after I had gotten desperate enough, I let out, let's say a pint full of pee and drank it. When I would be in too much agony turned out a very hard thing to define though. The pain on my bladder felt extremely good and I didn't want to let it go. Also, there was a quality of humiliation all of its own, in masturbating your limp penis and having small drops of pee spraying on your hands.
At some point the very small rational part of my mind decided it would be a good time to pee now. I got up and went to get the pint to pee in. When I saw my reflection on the full length mirrors though I was stopped on my tracks, simply from the fact how I looked.
Just in case there are some of those among you who don't know it, I'm basically a pretty decent looking guy with an average build, round boyish face and glasses. Sort of nerdy beta male, or a grown up Harry Potter. However, the bladder torture has a way of changing my physical appearance drastically. At that moment my belly looked obscene. I was like a pregnant woman, or rather a man who has really let himself go.
However, in my horny state, even that seemed wonderfully humiliating, and I simply had to watch my unattractive reflection from several full body mirrors at the same time, naturally at the same time masturbating my extremely limp dick. The fact I still haven't shaved added to the effect. I looked so utterly disgusting it was hard to take my eyes off my reflection.
Finally I had to literally force myself to return to my computer with a pint in hand. I sat in my office chair, legs wide apart and while looking at my reflection from two angles, placed the pint under my limp penis and pushed. But nothing came out.
No matter how hard I pushed, nothing. No matter what position I tried. No matter how hard I tried to calm myself I could get out only short spurts, no more than half a deciliter at a time. Naturally I drank it all, since in my state it was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Also, for the first time in my life I actually savored it like a wine taster. I realized the taste isn't actually that bad, even though there something unpleasant to it, as well.
Being unable to pee even though my bladder is full is familiar to me, of course, but usually it happens after I have ejaculated. The only conclusion I came up with was the fact that my extremely long lasting penis pulling had had the same effect than cumming. That the penis around my urteha was too swollen to let pee out.
"Well, I thought, if you are not going to let pee out, apparently you like me to pull you some more, is that it?", I thought and continued edging. So, there I was, a huge plug in the ass, bladder painfully full, tummy bulged obscenely, nipples longing to be hurt with clothespins, pulling my limp penis and watching it all from two big mirrors.
Around this time, as you may guess, the inevitable finally happened. As I was watching myself from my mirrors, enjoying several erotic sensations at once, and giving myself short edging spurts, which I had forced to make shorter and shorter, one of them pushed me too far.
With a some degree of pride I can say I handled the incident more calmly this time, even though it was very unfortunate and totally unplanned. As soon as I realized felt the first sensations I let go of my penis and the only thing I remember saying was: "Uh-oh".
I waited for couple seconds and as I realized the process had now started and this would be it, I squeezed the limp penis shut with two of my fingers. I felt two small spasms I tried very hard not to even notice as I was intently observing my limp penis. I was totally coherent the whole time and if something I was filled with almost scientific curiosity.
I waited a few seconds more and after the incident seemed to be over I let go of my penis, and saw a tiny amount of cum dribble in the pint I was holding. There hadn't been nothing I could define as orgasm, no fireworks. All I did was say: "Oh dear" as I saw the cum, and went to wash the pint.
For the first couple of minutes I tried hard not to think what had just happened, since I was all but proud that I had let cum escape my testicles. However, I thought, this would be a great experiment. How a tiny amount of cum, and a totally ruined ejaculation would affect my libido, if at all?
How has it worked then, you ask? Immediately after the event, I admit, it felt almost as if I'd had and actual orgasm. I noticed my horniness was gone, and started putting away the things I had used during the past 24 hours and cleaning up my apartment.
My mind was in a turmoil emotionally and I kept thinking what I should do now when it comes to the day count. Did this qualify as an orgasm? However, this time there wasn't the kind of despair I had felt when my 497 day cum ban had been broken. I approached the question almost as if it hadn't actually been me at all.
However, even though I wouldn't have wanted to admit it, physically I felt just like I had just had an orgasm. I was now cool, rational, and part of me wanted to put the whole episode out of my head, a thing so familiar to most men. But I couldn't escape the fact that my experience did qualify as an orgasm, even though a very unpleasant and most definitely a ruined one.
The next day I was very productive. No longer I had the need to edge myself constantly and I hardly thought sex at all. The interesting effects started one night after the incident. In fact, for the past two nights now I have woken up hours before I should have gotten up, extremely horny and agitated. My penis has been limp on both times, but I have had almost uncontrollable need to start masturbate and cum that instant. Naturally I have avoided it both times. My testicles seems to be working at full steam, after all.
Even though my little incident was far from an actual orgasm, the two spasms counted as a cum. And since I want to be cruel to myself, in the lack of anyone else being cruel to me, I have now decided to reset my counter. Yes, 102 days of chastity gone in the air, just like that. Sucks to be me, doesn't it?
In my recent blog post I mentioned I started my chastity because I felt my orgasms not only were too pleasurable but also had started to lose their meaning. In that light I should be more than happy now, since my latest spill was anything but pleasurable, and far, far from ordinary.