Tag Archives: pleasure

Edging – Orgasm Denial

I’m making excellent progress on the new book, and am getting soooooo excited to send this to my beta readers! Which means I am still laying low for the rest of the week. Then I have been promised access to my beloved Facebook and blog. mmmm, my prrrrrrecious.  😉

For now, I have another really awesome friend stopping by. Renee Rose is taking over my blog for the day to talk about “edging” or orgasm control. (This is so hot!) Thanks for stopping by. ❤

Take it away, Renee 🙂

Renee Rose’s First Experience with Edging

by Renee Rose

I came to the realization a year or two ago that I’m always waiting, during sex for the green light to orgasm. I think biologically it makes sense. As a female, I am the receptor, so my orgasm should come just after his for the best chances of conception. (It took me several years of trying to conceive, so believe me, I studied up on doing everything exactly right).

Since I apparently am naturally giving control to my husband for when I orgasm, I told him I thought it would be fun if we played with edging or orgasm denial.  I told him a couple times, and he sort of filed it away for later.

Recently, he took me over the arm of the sofa for an afternoon session (we do our best work while the kids are at school). He spanked me and then he entered me from behind.  And then he walked away without either of us getting off.

May I just tell you that I did not find it the least bit sexy?  I found it infuriating.  All that sexual energy turned to frustration in about five seconds flat.  I was stomping around the house like a grouchy bear.  It wasn’t an exciting form of domination, as far I was concerned. I wasn’t even sure if I was going to be allowed to get off, period.

The reward did come later. I can’t remember exactly– I think it was only an hour or two, but it seemed like forever.  My husband re-emerged from whatever task he’d been doing, taking me this time bent over the bed and….oh yeah.  It was good. The wait did heighten the orgasmic experience.  I went from bitter to butter (the melty kind) immediately.

According to wikipedia, Orgasm control, also referred to as edging, peaking, or surfing, is a sexual technique which may be practiced either alone or with a partner and involves the maintenance of a high level of sexual arousal for an extended period of time without reaching orgasm. Since orgasm control prolongs the experience of powerful sexual sensations occurring during the final build-up to orgasm, the physical demands of being kept or keeping oneself in this highly excited state for an extended time can induce a pleasurable, almost euphoric state, and at times creates changes within an individual’s perceived consciousness.

Orgasm control can involve either sex partner being in control of the other partner’s orgasm, or a person delaying their own orgasm during sexual activity with a partner or by masturbation. To experience orgasm control, any method of sexual stimulation can be used.

In The Knight’s Seduction, Sir Barrett’s new wife suffered an early trauma with a man, and is terrified to have sex with him. He strikes a deal with her that sets into motion a beautiful execution of extended edging.  Here’s how it all begins:

“Daisy, I propose we make a bargain.”

She looked wary.

“I give you my word, I will not couple with you. Not until you ask—nay, beg me to.” And he did intend to make her beg. Bringing a lover to the edge while denying her release would have her on her knees eventually.

She made a scoffing sound. “I’m quite certain I would die first.”

“Aye,” he said, “You have proven your willingness to die. But wait—I have not finished. You will offer me your body, that I may teach you the pleasure of passion, and that you may learn to pleasure me—all without engaging in the actual act of consummation.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “I do not understand.”

“There is more than one way to find pleasure with a woman or a man. I propose to leave out the one that gives you trouble, if you will allow me to teach you the others.”

Her blue-green eyes widened, but the wariness had gone. She studied him, as if measuring the meaning of his words. “Will it hurt?”

He gave a decisive shake of his head. “Never,” he promised. He opened his mouth, ready to launch into a long treatise on pleasure, but she nodded her head.


He hid his surprise. “Yes? You will agree?”

“I know not why, but I do trust you, Sir Barr—I mean, Bear.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I’m honored. There is one more small thing you must promise me.”

“What is it?”

“You will not pleasure yourself. You will only come to me to learn of pleasure.”

She gave a short laugh. “You need not worry about that.”

He lifted a brow. “You do not pleasure yourself?”

She lifted her chest. “Certainly not. Do you?”

You might guess that she does end up trying to pleasure herself, and is punished for it.  But here is a little taste of her first pleasure, delivered by Sir Barrett:

He took a bit of butter fat on one finger and slid it between her legs.

She jumped, her legs and torso stiffening, her thighs clamping together.

“Easy, girl. This quim is mine now. I will keep my word, you must keep yours.” He wriggled his finger  between her tightened legs. He had asked for lubricant because he feared it may take him some time to coax out a response, but he found her folds slick and plump. He nearly groaned at the sweetness of it. “There,” he said, his voice rough. “it’s not so bad, is it?”

She whimpered.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded.

She did not move.

He delivered four more slaps to her quivering bottom. “I said, open your legs for me, Daisy.” He waited.

After a moment, her thighs parted, but only by a finger-width.

“More. Spread them.”

“Sir Barrett…” Her voice sounded plaintive.


“Nothing—I don’t know.” Her legs opened a little further.

He smiled. He hoped he’d stoked her fire and she was experiencing the discomfort of sexual tension.

The Conquered Brides Collection

When the castle they called home is besieged and ultimately falls, five women are captured and carried off as wives by their foes. Will they be treated as no more than the spoils of war, or can their new lords prove themselves worthy of the love and submission of their conquered brides?
The Conquered Brides is a five-book collection featuring brand-new titles from five top erotic romance authors: Ashe Barker, Sue Lyndon, Dinah McLeod, Korey Mae Johnson and Renee Rose.

The Knight’s Seduction by Renee Rose
Avowed to never again yield to a man’s ill-treatment, Lady Daisy stands ready to fight to the death when her castle is sacked. The imposing knight Sir Barrett has other ideas, however, and to her dismay, Daisy soon finds herself not only disarmed, but soundly spanked as well. Sir Barrett takes her as his captive bride, but when she shows real terror at the prospect of consummating their marriage, he offers her a bargain. She will offer her body to him and accept the pleasurable torments he inflicts, but he will not claim her fully until she aches for it so badly she begs him. Certain she will do no such thing, Daisy agrees, but can she resist the knight’s seduction?

Buy Links: Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, All Romance Ebooks

conquered brides collection

Renee Rose / Darling Adams is a naughty author and kinkster who loves writing about hot alpha males, Dominance/submission and power exchanges. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, her books are all centered around kink. She can be found on:









Are we still playing? (Anal play vs punishment)


Ok, I know I am not officially part of SRR’s Round Table Discussion. But I had so many thoughts on this, and really wanted to say something. (I just got really busy with life stuff; bikeathons, Roman diorama’s…) 🙂

Corinne Alexander posted a fantastic topic. Anal play and punishment.

Wow, I certainly have some conflicting views on this topic. (Sometimes it depends on the mood I am in)

But mostly, it depends on the wording.

  • Punishment
  • Consent

The two most meaningful words for me in this discussion.



First of all, I’ll just say that I find anal play in stories I read, to be highly erotic and arousing.

Holy cow, it’s hot! Especially when done in that grey area between consent and non-consent. (Like I said, it depends on the mood I am in, and whether or not the MC actually enjoys the receiving.)

Don’t get me wrong, I like the whole “No, I don’t want to… Mmmm, well, okay, maybe… yes! Yes! Yes!” dynamic. I know it is grey. If the character is written as concluding with a wonderfully drawn out happy climax, then I like it.

I like consent.

It doesn’t have to be verbal. It can be done physically, like a shifting of the hips, or a groan of approval, or a POV shift to show her transition to enjoyment.

So that’s where I stand with the word “consent”.



Punishment might mean something very different for me than for others. And that’s okay. We all have our own terms and definitions.

Some talk about playful punishment and the façade of domination and humiliation. Now that, for me is HOT. Definitely hot.

I love the idea of that fine line between pretend and reality, where my HOH is reacting so harshly, I have to stop for a second and ask, “Are you actually mad at me?”

Once he has winked and affirmed that we are in fact playing, I’m good to go.

Remember, I’m a people pleaser. The thought of someone close to me actually being that angry with me, hurts far worse than any punishment ever could.

So play – is hot!

But we don’t play as often as I would like. 😦

I’m not in a BDSM or playful relationship.

Our relationship is more along the lines of Domestic Discipline. (I’m going to stop labeling us, because our relationship is evolving and shifting.)

My husband is my HOH- my leader, my protector, sometimes, my teacher.


Our real punishments are not done for play. They are done to teach, correct, and help me release the guilt over a transgression.

Play, fun and pleasure are not a part of it.

I have given my blanket consent, by agreeing to be in this relationship.

So there really is no safe word, and the consent is there.

I just have to trust that he won’t abuse my vulnerable position.


I can see very good teaching points in some anal punishments:

  • Butt plug – holy cow, the humiliation and fear of being discovered, not to mention, the extreme discomfort… (Okay, we have not tried our set of plugs yet, but after trying some other penetration, I know I would not care for the feeling  :))
  •  Ginger root – Okay, been there done that! Yikes! That sucker gets so hot! I’ll admit, I was also extremely aroused by this play. But I can see how this would be an excellent punishment.

I’m good with each of those.


But when the terms punishment and pleasure come together- that’s where I have to draw the line in my relationship.


When my HOH delivers a punishment, it is about loving direction and guidance. It is about firmly teaching a value, or imprinting a necessary consequence.

(I’m about to get a little graphic. Be forewarned)


If my husband were to punish me for something we had previously agreed on – let’s use overspending as an example – I would submit to it, trusting he was punishing me for my own good.

If he chose to have me wear a butt plug during the day as a reminder to not overspend, I would understand, and wriggle around in my very tight jeans, and regret that stupid mishap at the Disney store.

Hehe, no worries. 🙂

If he were to embarrass me, and cause me extreme discomfort through figging, once again, no worries. I believe that would be within my realm of acceptance for a punishment.



If he we to decide to have anal sex with me as part of my punishment…

In other words, part of my punishment would be the act of his large penis penetrating my very tight and hurting, bottom hole.


He were to become not only aroused by this act, but would also take pleasure in it, by climaxing…


Then in my mind, he would be taking pleasure in my punishment. He would be climaxing and enjoying hurting me.


My punishment is about learning and repenting.

My punishment should not give him pleasure.

If he takes pleasure from hurting me, then it will hurt me more than anything in the world.

Remember, I am a woman with high emotional needs.

So punishment with pleasure could not work for me without scarring me, and taking away something very important from our relationship.

My trust.


I have to trust that he will impart wisdom and strength in his leadership of me.


I know my view, and definition and needs are different than everyone else’s. So I choose not to judge my friends and their fetish. Whatever turns them on, and is agreed upon- hey, I won’t judge. 🙂


But for me and my relationship, it all comes down to the wording and the moment.


Anal play – HOT!

Anal play in fiction, when done in a way that shows some form of consent? – Whoa, momma! Definitely hot!


Anal punishment in real life – not necessarily hot. But acknowledged as a good device.


Anal sex in real life punishment – NOT! Not hot for me, not acceptable in my relationship. Hurtful to me and the relationship.


Ok, there’s my take.


Please be kind with your responses. It’s okay to respectfully agree to disagree. But I feel pretty vulnerable right now, having been so open.



(I included the round table link at the top. There are a ton of other fantastic posts. Feel free to stop by and see the other viewpoints 🙂 )


Inner Child on the Run

skin is waterproof_ run

I have had kind of a rough “mommy” week. As some of you already know, my youngest child has been recovering from surgery last week.  The recovery has been going well, with some ups and downs here and there. But nothing too big to deal with.  I was even blessed with a very much appreciated OTK session from my beloved hubby.  But I still needed another outlet.

 (Note: Running has always been a big part of my life.  But I have backed off a bit since having children.  I started back into structured training, this year, in the hopes of alleviating some of my moodiness. I get VERY crabby when I don’t get my endorphin release).

Sunday afternoon, after a particularly long day of (PMS induced) extreeeeeeeeme crabbiness, Hubby decided to push me out the door for a much needed run.

It didn’t matter to him that it was 59 degrees and a torrential downpour.  He reminded me that ten years earlier, I would have been out there even if it was 20 degrees colder, and sleeting! He handed me a hat, swatted my bottom, and told me to “get out there and run!”

He also reminded me that an elite runner would not be making faces and acting uncomfortable during the run.

“Smile. Enjoy it,” he said.  “Make everyone else wish they were as dedicated as you,”

“Ugh, you’re right,” I rolled my eyes, “An elite runner hides her pneumonia from the neighbors, and smiles as she wheezes,”

That got me another, much harder swat, and a grunt, as he pushed me out the door.

I set off on my four mile trek through the water logged sidewalks, leaping over puddles, and watching for cars. One neighbor did drive past, laughing, and asked if I wanted a ride. I pasted a big smile on my face, and thanked him, and told him he could check on me in a few miles.

The great thing about running in cold stinging rain, is the solitude. No one is crazy enough to join you.  And you can’t get lost in emotions and thoughts like on a normal run (lest you miss a huge puddle, and find yourself swimming through the cross walk).  The run is, a RUN.

Nothing else matters at that moment.  You lose almost everything else around you except for the running itself.  Besides watching for the occasional dip in a sidewalk, everything else is awareness based.  You have nothing else to think about but the run, the elements, and how your body is reacting to all of it.

When I held my chest high and pressed out, I easily accepted the cold air into my lungs.  It was so invigorating!

I pumped my arms, keeping them loose and strong.

I lifted my feet, and stretched out my legs, feeling each connection with the wet, but no longer frigid pavement.

I luxuriated in the sharp stinging sensation of the bitterly cold drops lashing at my arms through my jacket.  I stripped it off, since it was not doing its job of protecting me, and I was already soaked.

And then the realization hit me.

I loved this!

I was the crazy, fun loving girl from ten years ago, with the ‘ship eating grin’ and manic giggle, running in the freezing rain- and enjoying it!

Oh, how I had missed this!

I stopped jumping over the puddles, choosing instead to slosh through them, soaking my already drenched feet.

My legs were so heavy and red from the cold rain.  My long, wet pony tail kept smacking my cheek, so I learned to be careful about sudden head movement.  And I did not care about any of it.

For 48-50 minutes, I was free from everything.  I was just a runner.  Alone on the roads. Taking pleasure where I could find it.

I let out a whoop, and tilted my head back to allow some of the rain to pool into my mouth. The exquisite taste of the pure frigid drops left me gasping, shuddering, wanting more! I spent the next mile sticking my tongue out for occasional sips, grinning and cackling like a mad woman.

I even added on two extra miles to the end. I was already drenched, and my body had somewhat acclimated, so why not?

I’m sure anyone who got a glimpse of me in my “free state” will forever be telling the tale of the crazy woman in the biker shorts, soaked from head to toe, grinning like an idiot, and tasting the rain drops, as she barreled through puddles, screaming like a banshee.

What a great run!

What a great escape!

And what a fun way to find the inner child / crazy woman that I thought had been lost so many years ago.

Thank you Hubby, for the push out the door.

And the hat.