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Orgasms. Wtf???

November 7, 2008

Almost exactly a year after I started masturbating, about half an hour ago, I had the first intentional orgasm of my life.

When I was traveling in a Capitol, I broke down and got a vibrator. It turns out the Capitol is a very staid, “traditional” environment, and it took three locals with inside knowledge and a computer to find me a “classy” establishment. I had not wanted to get a vibrator for several reasons. For one I didn’t want my body to be dependent on something that ran off of batteries or electricity, for the day when there is no more electricity, and people sell Energizer AAs on the black market for thousands of useless pieces of paper once hyperinflation has taken its toll. For two, the idea of using a vibrator, something that moves faster than any human appendage ever will, just felt like beating or overwhelming my body into orgasm, when honestly, I should just be able to have a fucking orgasm. For three, most of the vibrators I had seen in person had faces and beaver tongues.

It was an act of the last resort. I figured if I couldn’t orgasm with a vibrator, then at least I would know there was nothing else to try.

I tried it in the shower a couple nights after I got it. Nothing. Zilch. I tried it a couple nights ago, going for the clitoral angle, aaaaaand, nothing. I was wearing a menstrual cup, so I put a condom on the vibrator and put it in my ass, which feels better than vaginal penetration anyway. Nothing.

I’m ovulating now, which means I’m fucking horny as hell. I decided to try again, because I’m that fucking masochistic. I wasn’t wearing my cup anymore, so I tried vaginal stimulation. Tried leaving it there while I wrote some porn, since there is none out there for my kind. Tried the clitoris again. Finally got up to go get my one other sex toy, my first sex toy, a glass dildo.

I wedged the dildo up my cunt, and tried using the vibrator on my clitoris, using the rule of thumb that the more uncomfortable/painful it feels, the more is going on. I moved the base of the dildo and the tip of the vibrator in opposite circles, imagining a man begging me no as I stuffed him full of cock. It got a couple of jolts through my clitoris, like needles stabbing through it that made my body jerk, and it built, and it built–

–and I had an orgasm, or perhaps more accurately, a seizure. My legs started jerking, my shoulders started jerking, my head kept snapping back, little whimpers were squeezed out of my throat, and I couldn’t control it. It was kind of like I’d been electrocuted. I expected to feel the semi-pleasurable vaginal contractions of the orgasms I’ve had in my sleep, but it was like my pelvic muscles were trying but my cunt was too full of glass to squeeze. The pain in my clitoris finally reached the point where it was unbearable, and I pulled the vibrator away, and the seizure ended. The walls of my cunt tried to contract half-heartedly again.

What the fuck?

Where’s the pleasure? Where’s the sense of release?

I lay there, feeling suddenly hyper-aware, with my clitoris shouting, “I am here! I am right here! Just in case you didn’t know I was here, I am right here!”

I tried to touch it with the vibrator again, but it was too intense, and I realized I was at the over-sensitive-post-orgasm stage. I waited for a while until it calmed the fuck down, wondering what the fuck was going on, before trying for round two.

It wasn’t, “Oh, wow, that was AMAZING, I must feel that again!” It was, “Wait, what? This is supposed to feel good. Everyone says it feels good, maybe the second one will actually feel good.”

I tried again for a while with some different techniques. It built a little, but nothing much, and I finally stopped.

I have to admit I am completely flummoxed. When I first realized that the warm, involuntary vaginal contractions I’d felt in my sleep once or twice were not me being really aroused, but were actual orgasms, I was just left with this sinking, hollow feeling.

“Oh. Is that it?”

My previous involuntary orgasms all felt like something that was supposed to lead up to orgasm, not be the orgasm itself. This was… this was fucking weird.

Already I’m noticing the difference from when I’ve masturbated before. Then, whenever I finally gave up, an hour, two hours, three hours later, I felt like what it must feel like for guys to have blue balls. Everything was sore, aching miserably. For the next day or two my entire lower abdomen would be a knot of twisting, aching soreness that would stab me whenever I moved the wrong way or sat down too fast. Now I’m not sore at all, though my clit is still kind of freaking out and making its presence known (this is the first time I’ve felt my clitoris be “erect”), and for a while afterwards I felt incredibly awake and alert and kind of relaxed.

I knew what orgasms were by the time I was five. My mom explained sex to me very matter of factly using correct terms when I was a toddler, and told me that if I wanted to touch myself that was fine, but I should go do it in my room. As I grew up, she always listened to romance novels on tape when she took naps, and they were always talking about orgasm as “splintering apart,” and “waves,” and “crests,” and “euphoria,” and “pleasure.”

I knew the crappy romance novels were exaggerating and using flowery language, but I always thought pleasure was, you know, pleasure. I thought of it as the opposite of pain, really warm and flowing and expanding through the body. It wasn’t until I realized that I had actually already experienced orgasms, and they weren’t all that exciting, that I began to realize that my conception of pleasure, the experience that I had been looking forward to, didn’t actually exist (big buzz-kill). I realized that pleasure and pain weren’t opposites, or even comparable, nor could they be placed on opposite ends of a scale. Many of the things that I find “pleasurable,” even genitally, don’t sexually excite me. Back rubs don’t arouse me, for instance, or massaging my vulva, or even being flogged. They just feel good. To be sexually aroused there has to be at least an imaginary man screaming, or begging, or whimpering. Bruised also helps. Tied up or chained is the cherry.

I’m remembering the dreams I had when I had my sleep-orgasms.

One of the earliest ones I had a couple years ago had a man folding up into a ball and tied around a long rod, and my dream-self was rubbing against the ball on the end of the rod. Then I woke up. Sad.

In another old one I was riding a man blow-up doll. Then there was one where I seemed to be a secretary or something, and this guy was fucking me doggie-style behind an office desk and we couldn’t stop laughing because we were trying to hide from the people working in the rest of the office. The one I had a couple of months ago I was naked and rubbing with two men in my dream, and I climbed on a bed on my knees with my head down, and the instant one of the men penetrated my ass I orgasmed.

Then I had two on the same morning a month or so ago. I don’t remember the dream for one of them but I remember knowing I was on the cusp on an orgasm, and triggering it by contracting my muscles like in a kegel. In the next dream I was packing snow into a woman’s ass then fucking her bent over a table with a strap-on while she screamed. Best screams I’ve ever heard, in real life or my imagination. Then, when I was in the Capitol, after I’d bought the vibrator but before I’d used it, I nearly, nearly, nearly had an orgasm as I woke up, but my pelvic muscles seemed frozen stiff. I don’t remember the dream, but I remember trying to trigger the orgasm by contracting my cunt, but I couldn’t, the muscles felt so frozen.

The last three happened after I started masturbating a year ago. I tried to feel happy about it, that at least I was having orgasms and maybe muscle-memory and orgasmic intent would someday meet. But even then the contractions felt so weak, that I could have the same effect by doing kegels. The only unusual thing was that the contractions were involuntary.

So, one two three four five six, six-point-five, and seven orgasms total in my memory.

When I couldn’t make myself orgasm, I was angry, and now that I’ve done it, I’m just confused.

16 Comments leave one →
  1. November 7, 2008 4:51 am

    I actually have different orgasms depending on the stimulation and the position of my body. They feel radically different, some satisfying, others painful, some intense and confusing because they walk such a close line between the two. They definitely have a range, from extremely mild to intense. And they don’t feel like what we typically associate with pleasure, ever. Massage, tingling, warmth? No. Release, intensity, seizures, satisfaction afterward, yes.

    In my experience, I can force my body to orgasm, as it sounds like you did here. But my body approaches orgasm quickly on its own, so the forced ones are unnecessary and a bit over the top for me. And not nearly as nice.

    Er, I don’t want to be one of the many people trying to give you orgasm advice. But ping me if you’d like further thoughts on this. In the meantime, perhaps contemplate orgasms outside the way they’re understood in American culture. The French petit mort, (little death) is more accurate.

  2. devastatingyet permalink
    November 7, 2008 6:06 am

    When I was a little kid, I used to lie under the tap in the bathtub and let the water fall just above my clit. The excitement would build until it kind of crested and then I wasn’t excited anymore and couldn’t take any more sensation. But it wasn’t an orgasm in the throbbing/release sense. That wasn’t the nice part. What you wrote here reminds me of that a little. Nothing helpful to add, I’m afraid.

  3. November 7, 2008 9:03 am

    Naturally, I’d second what Eileen said above me. As an aside, however, the idea that orgasms are not inherently pleasurable but can actually be experienced in myriad ways is also the foundation for the notion of “orgasm torture,” why pain-loving-sadists can enjoy giving people “forced orgasms” (and inversely, why “masochists” like me sometimes fantasize about them) and is the underlying concept one must grok in order to wholly get the full range of possibilities with minimized, “ruined,” or otherwise manipulated orgasmic sensation.

    In short, an orgasm is no different than a physical sensation, and we already know how variable those can be, as well as how wonderfully useful those variations can be.

  4. subversive_sub permalink
    November 9, 2008 4:46 am

    So right there with you. That’s a perfect description of the “bad” sort of orgasms I still have from time to time. It was worse when I was younger (i.e. first starting to have orgasms), and I had to learn a lot about what was pleasant and what just…wasn’t. It was years before I was able to have an orgasm that actually felt *good*, and even then it was usually accompanied by the “blue balls” feeling you describe.

    One of the things that I absolutely loved about BDSM, when I was first starting to explore it, was how it helped me realize that it was totally okay to not focus on orgasm as the be-all and end-all of sexual pleasure.

  5. ranat permalink
    November 9, 2008 4:37 pm

    Thanks for responses everybody. I didn’t respond as quickly because I wanted to get out of the emotional reaction stage and get my thoughts and feelings on the matter all laid out (see next post).

    @Eileen – Little death indeed. It’s such a common cliche for people to say that the reasons humans procreate is because it “feels good.” Now I have even more trouble understanding the “must get laid” culture.

    @Devastatingyet – Yeah, everyone always recommended the “under the faucet” approach to me, but it never really did anything.

    @Maymay – I must admit that in my naivete I thought that mandoms forcing femsubs to orgasm was an ego/prowess dynamic, since most women (at least the ones who have participated in pertinent studies) can’t orgasm regularly or at all. I thought it was mandom pride of “I’m so good I can make her orgasm *whenever I want.*” For femdoms forcing malesubs to orgasm, I always thought it was more about the fact that they’d already orgasmed so many times it started to be excruciating. *Sigh* Now everything changes…

    @subversive_sub – “…that it was totally okay to not focus on orgasm as the be-all and end-all of sexual pleasure.”

    Yeah, that’s definitely the conclusion I’ve been coming to for a while now (and now I have definitive proof, at least for my body). More on this in the next post.

  6. Nameless permalink
    November 17, 2008 10:17 pm

    So nice to see I’m not the only one whose body doesn’t behave as expected. my friends drive me crazy with their enthusing about the hot sex they have. Bastards. :)

    In my early teens I started getting these intense rushes of feeling, flashes from groin to head, when I saw things or various read things, and I thought to myself, ‘Oh good, at least I won’t be one of those girls that doesn’t enjoy sex.’ But I bloody was. I started experiementing with masturbation in my mid teens after a friend raved about it, and found I could produce a kind of orgasm by *forcing* it – kind of *pushing*. Physiologically, it seemed to be an orgasm. But in terms of sensation, it sucked. And when I started actually having sex, I really felt nothing at all. If my boyfriend stimulated my clitoris very directly, it just felt kind of painful, too sensitive.

    It took a very long time before I started having anything like an enjoyable orgasm with a guy. It’s like my body had to learn to associate theses acts with those sensations. I can still force an orgasm, usually, if I can get there more naturally, but those forced orgasms are still profoundly unsatisfying. But I’ve never yet felt anything with a guy that compares even slightly to those intense lust-flashes that I get from time to time, when triggered by a sight, a sound, an idea. Gah.

  7. ranat permalink
    November 17, 2008 11:35 pm

    “It’s like my body had to learn to associate theses acts with those sensations.”

    That’s something I’m beginning to feel like too. It’s like I have to train my body or something, like Pavlov’s dogs. I’ve been saying this a lot lately, but sexuality is weird. It is so fucking weird. There’s the being turned on sexually and the being turned on mentally/emotionally, and they don’t always coincide, and then there are the hormonal cycles of lust and ovulation and menstruation, and there are not nearly enough movies with good scenes of men being beaten up and tied in complicated positions.


  8. Nameless permalink
    November 18, 2008 12:09 am


    This is why sex supposedly gets better for women as they get older – they’re forming those Pavlovian associations. Men don’t seem to have this problem. Lucky gits.

    Then there’s a whole world of complicated that I haven’t yet had to deal with – what happens when you try to do things that your sexuality craves but your mind is programmed to disapprove of. Like, you know, hurting people. I have a serious problem; my dad was a little slap-happy (nothing major, just one of those product-of-a-bygone-age kind of things), and I loathed him for it. I had such contempt for it. I’m utterly reviled by anything that smacks of ‘discipline’. It just feels abusive to me. I can’t bear the thought of being anything like him. So there’s a good chance I’m going to have serious problems if I ever find the opportunity to try putting my desire to hurt men into practice. And while I know intellectually that the two things are worlds apart, I doubt my subconscious is going to see it like that.

  9. ranat permalink
    November 18, 2008 3:21 am

    Yeah, I sometimes still have knee-jerk reactions when I focus a little too much on how my kink is related to the verbal abuse I grew up with (which made my little four-year-old brain go, “Aw *hell* no.”). The ‘D’ in BDSM is often used for “discipline” in addition to “dominance,” but not all the consensual hurting has to be in the context of discipline, ala school marm or the stereotypical “mistress.” That’s just what some people get off on. For you it can be whatever you want. You said on your blog that you’re really into roleplay (something which I’ve never done, but I eagerly look forward to since I’ve got so many scenarios in my head), so the reason for the consensual hurting –or the consensual non-consensual hurting– can be anything you want. There are limitless contexts and scenarios and storylines. That’s how I think of it, anyway.

  10. Nameless permalink
    November 18, 2008 7:32 am

    Well, when I say rp, I mean the ordinary kind. But yes, that would likely be a way to bypass the issues. Finding the right character and the right scenario solves almost everything. But for some things, finding the right character could be tricky.

    And yes, my little four year old brain also went ‘hell no’. It made me so mad. One of my earliest memories is of my sister being punished and me feeling… just horrendous. Incandescent with rage, and utterly hopeless at the same time. Rage inside a shell. Even now I can actually only think around it, at a distance – if I let myself slip into that remembering…

    I understand him now. I understand it all comes from his own fear and pain and conditioning and inadequacy. I actually have a positive relationship with him, as long as we steer clear of politics (the ignorance and the bigotry and the racism – we’ve had some blazing rows).

    My mother lashed out verbally rather than physically, but she left some pretty solid scars too! But again, all much better now. I’m so grateful I have the perspective and the awareness to not turn into either of my parents.

  11. ranat permalink
    November 19, 2008 12:35 am

    Yeah, being able to untangle yourself from your parents issues is both very hard work and very satisfying. But the more you’re aware of those kind of influences and that the issues are their issues, not yours, the easier I’ve found it is to not repeat the same mistakes (after, of course, repeating them during my time of unawareness). Being able to step past my parents shit and how they loaded it onto me has meant a world of personal growth for me.

    While I know personally that my kink has roots in my rebellion to how I was raised, and ultimately in how the dominant culture treats the oppressed, I also know that my dominance and sadism are completely different from how I was dominated as a child and the civilization’s eroticization of violence against women. For one there’s the whole consensual thing, and for two I make sure I’m aware of the power-structures I’m working with and recognizing them as ritual rather than reality.

  12. Radial permalink
    July 26, 2009 9:56 pm

    I know I’m commenting on a dead entry, but this was so good to read. The first time I ever orgasmed, I was so disappointed I cried. I didn’t expect the sex to be good, but surely the Big O would be worth something, right?

    Wrong. I can enjoy sex a lot, but orgasms feel as sexy as turning a valve.

  13. ranat permalink*
    July 31, 2009 1:32 am

    My relationship with my orgasms has been changing, and certainly I enjoy other people’s orgasms. But orgasms are still weird, and not pleasure in my understanding of the concept. I’m learning to enjoy them more, but I still relate to them more as release than ‘feel good.’

    Thanks for sharing (even on a dead post)!


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