I think that it's quite plain that I absolutely adore having sex. Wait, minor correction: I absolutely adore having sex with Daddy. He's the first man to actually make me cum in bed (I admit, I am guilty of faking MANY an orgasm in the past just to get the person to stop rutting on top of me so I could leave and pleasure myself) and to make me cum so thoroughly that half of the time, I could just curl up into an over-sexed ball and pass out. The other half of the time, I'm demanding more sex and more orgasms, to the point of where I am kind of spoiled and ungrateful.
I was starting to realize my behavior was getting out of control. If I didn't have sex a minimum of 4 times a day (6 is what makes me happiest, if not more) I would be wildly moody. I would go from extremely angry ("Why the fuck would you fuck me and not let me cum?") to ridiculously depressed ("The world is a lonely lonely place without orgasms...le sigh.") to pleading and bargaining ("Daddy, I will give you whatever you want, just please make me cum!")
Oh...my....gosh...I'm addicted to orgasms. My attitude was no different from someone addicted to cocaine or heroin. They have become my narcotic and I was increasingly unstable unless I got my fix. It became some consuming, I had time for little else. So, what does one do to kick a habit that is so deeply ingrained into their lifestyle? By going cold turkey, of course!
Now, I'm not absolutely crazy. I decided that since orgasms aren't BAD for me (just my behavior when I don't get what I deem as enough) one week sans orgasm would be enough to teach me a valuable lesson in...I don't even know...stuff? It would be just like kicking a heroin addiction: a week without, a few cold sweats and nightmares and then I would be clean and sober.
Should be cake. I can do this, I told myself.
Well, unlike heroin, I couldn't escape sex. I couldn't leave it on the corner somewhere in Baltimore, avoid the calls from my dealer, lock myself in my room and sweat it out. Whenever Daddy wants sex, I give it to him. Believe me when I say he wants it quite frequently.
There is no sex rehab in this household.
I lasted 3 days. 3 of the longest days of my life and spanned all the stages of overcoming addiction. By the end of it, I was achy, sweaty and desperate. I would have willingly gave away precious government secrets if Daddy would just say the magic words.
He's truly a sadist, sometimes. He had so much fun bringing me so close to the edge and leaving me there while he got to cum whenever and however he felt like. I think my day 3, though, he was sick of seeing the tears in my eyes and the mopey behavior around the house. He let me go cum without reprimand, but did state that in the future, a majority of my punishments would be long-term orgasm denial.
I miss the caning already.
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