Although she may feel she has offered an answer for such women, unfortunately, there really is no sustainable solution offered for this dilemma. Sure, men can go and discuss with their doctors if they might get an injection of testosterone into their systems, should they be short of that hormone, but if that isn't the problem, then there is little else on offer. In short, the woman goes without. "It's just age," doctors tend to suggest, as if a woman is really too greedy to be asking for sustenance for her mind and body after the age of 55 or so. It strikes me as cruel to even speak these words.
When a woman is in this position, in an otherwise loving marriage, she must rely on other means to satisfy her appetite, which is simply there, whether she likes it or not. I have always masturbated, since the earliest of ages, but masturbation has been strikingly important to me in latter years. Without some sort of release via an orgasm that I provide for myself, by hook or by crook, I think I might implode. I'm referring to my mind and my body here. I need that satiation as much as I need water, sleep, and air.
Somehow, for some reason, my mentor decided that it was fitting that I be challenged in new ways. It all started some months ago, that I edge six times a day. As with all new challenges I did it, not sure what it was all about, where it would go or how long it would last. I just did it. 'Bimbo' is like that. She just does things.
As time went by the appetite was voracious. I didn't need an order to do this activity. I had to do it. My body and my mind compelled me to touch and the really sadistic thing about all of this is that even if I decided that I would cum, disobey and have an orgasm, the simple fact was that I could no longer orgasm no matter how hard I tried. My body was now wired to want more and more but to be unable to climax.
Over that period of time I was given two opportunities to orgasm, if I did something in particular at the same time (sorry, you can't have every last detail of my life) - tantamount to orgasm on command. Of course, I did it. Who knew if or when I'd be released from this ordeal again?!
Here's the confession. Gulp. One day, alone in the house on my own, and sure I would surely go mad if I didn't get some physical relief I threw everything at my own satiation, inserting anal beads, filling myself utterly and touching, until, in a pool of sweat and almost passing out with the effort required, I climaxed. It was life or death. I had to be relieved of that ever-pressing desire for physical release. It only happened once but I still feel guilty about it, at the same time as I know that I would do it all over again. There simply was no choice.
Weeks after this situation, a full month later, my body was screaming out for release again. To explain, sex does take place but my body is only ramped up by certain sexual interludes and seeks the second round. If sex with my husband happens, say, once in the month, there is no real profound release of the appetite, but, the opposite situation - the need for an intense orgasm is ramped further up. I asked my mentor if I could forgo my regimen for one day - for release of the voracious appetite hopefully, but also to restore my sanity which seemed to be failing me. I felt nothing more or less than a bitch on heat, a one track mind, a sexual object at the mercy of a sadist.
Of course, he said "no". I tried to assuage him and he said "no" again. I thought I took the decree calmly. I don't recall being particularly upset at the time, but later that day I was so exhausted, my body so changed, my mind so desperate, I looked up, per chance over masturbation and started to see what was happening to me. Worse, the literature suggested that my mitochondrial system may have been weakened.
I freaked. I rebelled. I took myself to a health store and bought a product designed to restore the energy of the body and to heal the mitochondrial system. I reduced my masturbation regime. I could not have stopped if I tried. But, after a few days I could sense my body recovering. My mind seemed less busy and challenged and my body had feeling again. In those few days, I came, twice. Thank the Lord.
Of course, I am currently in the process of being punished and it's hard to justify any other outcome. I disobeyed - blatantly disobeyed - and I showed disrespect. Guilty. I plead Guilty.
But, in my defense, did I do those things, or was it the horny, voracious slut which I had been transformed into that did those things? Was she not driven to despair? (Think Dana as Zuul and you get the idea...)
It's most unlikely to ever be viewed this way. You can spin 'logic' around to make the world look upside down, if you want. But, there's a case to be made for this: 'Whoooops, may have pushed her toooooo far this time...'
That's okay. I don't need to hear the words. That's what this blog is for.
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