I need to interrupt the story of my night of orgasm torture to interject a brief aside. Hopefully, you'll forgive the digression because I believe this explanation is important. To do it properly I need to get both scientific and personal.
As my dominant, Claire has generously indulged me and devoted significant time for us to explore my edging fetish. Claire has used this process to teach me a great deal about how I experience an orgasm. Most male orgasms conform to a predictable pattern, and I'm no exception. It all begins with the initial period of arousal. My nervous system wakes up and gets the rest of my body going. I feel my cock come alive. My skin sensitivity increases, and my breathing becomes more rapid. I personally relish the feel of blood rushing to my dick as the tissue transforms into a raging hard-on. There is something special about the sensation of a swelling dick as the heart pumps it full of blood.
Initial arousal morphs into the build-up phase. This is when I really get into the moment. I focus on the parts of my anatomy being stimulated, and I start to ride the physiological wave that my brain is hoping will eventually lead me to a satisfying orgasm. Depending upon the body parts involved, the duration of the build-up can be greatly accelerated, or it can be extended to create an excruciating level of frustration.
If I'm lucky, my nipples get invited to the party, and that makes things even more interesting. My nipples are especially sensitive and seem to have a direct neural connection to my dick. I've had fantasies of cumming just from nipple stimulation, but Claire and I haven't managed to succeed at that yet. Regardless of how long it lasts, the build-up phase is where the real action happens, and it's the part I try to enjoy and hope to prolong the most. Claire has forced me to work diligently, over and over, resisting the urge to cum. Through practice, Claire has made me realize the longer I'm able to delay, the better things are set up for a fantastic orgasm finale.
Eventually, I can't hold back any longer, and my body gets pushed to the brink. I'm on the edge, and I reach the point of no return. It becomes obvious that, resist as I might, there will be no stopping the orgasm from taking over. Despite the inevitable, I've been known to work extra hard to hold back. I tense up and try my damnedest to stop the orgasm's big surge. The effort really is pointless, but I embrace the fiction that I can stop my body from doing what it is destined to do. It would be easy to think this final moment -- the moment where I hang right on the edge, just like a roller coaster about to plunge -- must be my favorite part of cumming, but that would be wrong.
Instead, the part of orgasm that I relish the most is the part that comes a few seconds later - where my body passes the point of release and falls into the throes of convulsion. At that moment, my brain screams for the orgasm to last as long as possible. I savor the pulsing of my cock, the squirts of cum, the contractions of my anal muscles. I want all those sensations to be sustained endlessly, to maintain the proverbial 'stomach-drop' of my orgasmic roller coaster ride. This is the stuff that feeds my best sex fantasies, where I manage to prolong the physical part of the orgasm as much as I'm physically able.
Unfortunately, my sex fantasies do not match human biology. The male body largely prevents my favorite moment from lasting more than a handful of seconds. While I certainly don't understand all the physical causes, I like to believe the body has a built-in safety valve specifically designed to prevent overload of the nervous system. Like most men, when I cum hard my body wants to be D--O--N--E,... DONE. When the orgasm is over, my mind and body collectively cry out for recovery time. My brain and nervous system both expect and need the stimulation to stop. I have learned first-hand that, if my cock receives continuous physical stimulation past the conclusion of orgasm, the sensations can be quite agonizing. It's a situation where all the right pleasure buttons are being pushed to the maximum at the absolute worst time. As Claire and I have experimented, we've come to jokingly refer to this phenomenon as my "off-switch." This off-switch is a powerful opponent. Any time I've tried to pick a fight with it, I have always lost. My off-switch is my orgasmic nemesis.
With that brief explanation out of the way, I'll pick up the story where I left off: my first night at the Gala immediately after the Serious Kit milker sucked me to my first, spectacular, life-altering orgasm.
As my mega-orgasm died away, my brain quickly ran through the entire thought process I've just outlined. What immediately followed was sheer, overwhelming panic. I was strapped to a table and attached to a Serious Kit machine. I could not move. I was going to be forced into one of these losing battles with my off-switch, whether I wanted it or not. After just experiencing a massive orgasm, probably the most outrageously pleasurable orgasm I'd ever experienced, my brain was urgently telling my body: 'Hey! You need a break!' My off-switch had been activated.
But, as Cynthia had warned me earlier that night, the Serious Kit milker did not care what my brain was telling my body. The machine was not going to stop.
Up,... down,... up,... down. The milker sucked voraciously at my cock without any pause whatsoever. "AUUUUGGGGGGH!" I cried out.
I squirmed in my restraints in an attempt to pull my hips away from the vacuum pressure of the cylinder. It was no use.
Up,... down,... up,... down. "Oh, god!" I moaned. The agony had to be obvious from the tone of my voice. The cylinder was unrelenting.
Up,... down,... up,... down. "GHHHHHHUUUH!" I grunted through my gritted teeth. My cock felt as if it was being rubbed with sandpaper, even though I knew better. "AAUGGHH!" I continued to yell with desperation.
"Just look at him. Did you see how he came into that thing?" Through my agony I heard a female voice speaking.
"Oh, yeah. Watching this is so fucking hot!" I heard a second woman responding to the first. "I wonder how long it'll take for him to cum again? You've heard about Amanda's drug injections, right? It's supposed to help them get off faster."
"Really? How cool is that?! Let's see if we can help him along a bit. Watch this and see what happens!" said the first voice again.
Suddenly, the speed of the Serious Kit Milker increased. Unfortunately for me, this was exactly the opposite of what my nervous system needed at that moment. My brain was screaming, 'Stop!' My libido felt like it had run into a brick wall. I so badly wanted the sucking of the machine to end. Instead, someone had dialed up the stroking speed of the milker to double-time.
