Hécuba

After the worst relationship I’ve ever had, I withdrew into myself, and a long time passed before I was able to have sexual relations again. I didn’t stop kissing, but I definitely put the brakes on all those guys who thought my kisses would lead to something in the bedroom. That’s why I don’t have a clear idea of when and how it happened. As a result of that bad experience, I even shied away from ropes and became completely vanilla, both in thought and action. I no longer fantasized about being submissive, and I even stopped touching myself in private moments. I became proactively chaste, as if in doing so I could force myself to forget what had happened to me.

But life went on, and eventually I wound up in bed with a man. It had been a long time since the last time, and although coming back to it should have been magical, it really wasn’t. It was a mediocre lay, much better for him than for me. Needless to say, I didn’t come, but I didn’t pay much attention to it at the time either. Then others came along, and the result was the same, even though I was slowly regaining the joy and excitement for sex. Some of them, with whom I had more than one encounter, started asking me if I had come after we shared a bed, and I, naive and honest as I was, answered no... Some of my lovers became passive-aggressive with me because of that—I imagine because their ego depended on the pleasure they were capable of giving me—and from that moment on, I started faking orgasms to spare myself that uncomfortable question.

I enjoyed sex just the same (my nature is submissive, and I’ve always cared more about my partner’s pleasure than my own), but it’s true that I didn’t know what was happening to me. And that was when I searched the internet and realized I was suffering from anorgasmia, which even extended to squirts, which I wasn’t having either.

I overthought it terribly, to the point of making love to myself not to enjoy it, but to achieve that result. And mind you, back then I had already internalized stoicism in my life; I knew that the outcome didn't depend on me, only my actions and my thoughts. But nothing...

Little by little, I came to accept that it didn't depend on me. I kept enjoying the warmth of my lovers' bodies, satisfying them, faking that I was reaching climax through their caresses and attention. And by simply not dwelling on it, I at least learned to feel good about myself.

Then I crossed paths again with the man who is now my current owner. We knew each other from college and had ended up hooking up one night at a party. Basically, we both knew we liked each other. We caught up, enjoyed each other's company, and started hanging out. By that time, I had normalized my anorgasmia so much that I was no longer vanilla and was back to fantasizing about the ropes I’ve always loved so much. We kissed again, grew fond of each other, and it was right there—before calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend—that we spoke frankly about what we expected from our relationship. I was honest with him and told him that if we were going to be a couple, I needed ropes to be involved. He admitted he was indeed attracted to it, and so our journey began.

My owner gradually realized that I wasn’t having orgasms (I didn't fake it with him). He asked me about it with curiosity rather than obsession, and I answered him honestly. He automatically brushed it off as no big deal and told me they would come back at some point (you have no idea what a weight was lifted off my shoulders when he took it that way). And so it went; a few years together had to pass before I could recover that lost part of myself. And now, remembering that beautiful moment, my eyes fill with tears again as I write...

That didn’t mean everything went back to normal right away, or that I was having orgasms as frequently as before. When we had sex, sometimes I had them, sometimes I didn’t, but that was the least of it. I was healing. Until, as time went on, I became myself again—that cheerful woman who usually squirts before having an orgasm, who very rarely squirts twice, and who only once in her life has had two orgasms in a single session.