My "True Stories" are told as accurately as my memory will permit. Nothing is embellished to make it a "better" story. The only intentional changes are privacy details, such as names.
When I was in college, a friend of mine, who had studied psychology, was talking to me about conditioned responses and he shared with me a lesser known story about Pavolv. In short the story was....
Like many scientists of his day, Pavlov had a wealthy benefactor who supported his research. Pavlov entered into a sexual relationship with the wife of his benefactor and every time she came, he squeezed her breast. Time went by and his benefactor decided to stop funding his research as there was newer and trendier research to support. His wife was sent to deliver the unfortunate news, and in response to hearing his funding was over, Pavlov walked up to her and squeezed her breast. When he did, she had an orgasm on the spot. She then convinced her husband to continue funding Pavlov's research, and the rest is history.
This is the type of story I want to be true, but I've never researched it, or tried to verify it, out of fear that my friend was blowing smoke up my ass. However, just hearing that story made me curious about conditioned responses, especially in a sexual setting. Let's be honest, if you want students to be interested in psychology, don't tell them about drooling dogs, tell them about orgasming women.
The next girl I dated I decided to see if I could recreate this experiment. Whether I was going down on her, or fucking her, when I noticed she was about to cum, I'd move my hand to her right breast. Trying to anticipate the start of her orgasm, I'd pinch her nipple, just as she started to cum.
I did this for a while, and frequently I found myself pinching her nipple slightly early as I anticipated the start of her orgasm. This happened because I wanted the pinch to be right at the start of her orgasm, afraid of the pinch being seen as a byproduct of her orgasm.
A short time passed and I noticed it took longer and longer for her to cum, and often out of my own frustration I'd see if I could "help" the process along. Sure enough, I'd pinch her nipple and her orgasm followed. Yeah, it appeared to be working.
Unfortunately, this is where the fun ended. It soon became obvious that it was taking far too long for her to cum and one day she confessed that she'd been on the edge, wanting to cum for a long while, but couldn't seem to go over no matter what either of us did....until I pinched her nipple. She was confused as her nipples had never been an OMG spot on her before, but I thought I understood.
What I theorized was that instead of creating a conditioned response to make her cum, I had inadvertently created a mental block. It appeared to me that my effort to create a fun party trick had actually made her unable to cum UNLESS I pinched her nipple. Every time I decided to "help" her orgasm along, I was reinforcing the behavior that her nipple had to be pinched before she could cum.
This wasn't at all what I wanted, and I was afraid things would only get worse, especially noting that the difference between success and mental block had been my anticipatory timing. After that day I decided to stop pinching her nipple completely in hopes of breaking the cycle.
Fortunately the conditioned response hadn't been in place too long, so it took just over a week before she no longer needed me to pinch her nipple in order to cum. Deciding that the results were too unpredictable, I opted to forget all about conditioned responses and their unexpected consequences. In retrospect, I should have continued with what I was doing, but I was too shaken by the unexpected results to realize there was a solid foundation for me to build from.
Fast forward quite a few years and I still found myself thinking about the story my friend had told me and the partial success I'd had with an unsuspecting girlfriend. I was now seeing Cindy and she had left her sexual journey in my hands. We weren't just sexual partners, she was both willing and wanting to be trained, so in her, I saw my chance to try again.
This time I made it no secret that I wanted her to be able to cum on command. Truthfully, she thought I was crazy, but before she met me she had also believed that multiple-orgasms were fabricated for porn. Seeing as she was now living proof that real women could be multi-orgasmic, she was on-board with letting me work on this impossible goal of cumming on command. After all, what's the worst that could happen, I end up devoting too much of my free-time trying to make her cum? To her it was a win-win, as no matter what she'd find herself cumming more often.
I won't go into the fine detail of all we did, as this process took months, instead, I will offer highlights.
Cindy's training was more oral and "fingering", than actual "sex". She came most easily from my hand and mouth, so that's what I used to work on my "project".
In the beginning I used a method in which she wasn't allowed to cum until I'd completed a countdown, with the number "1" being her signal to cum. The fact she had to cum when I reached "1" was just as much a part of her training as it was learning to deny herself and hold back until she was given "permission" to cum. The core of what we were doing was orgasm control, and she had to accept that her orgasms, or lack thereof, were entirely in my hands and at my whim.
I won't lie, I often used "self-fulfilling prophecies" to help reinforce her orgasmic response. By that I mean, I would wait until I knew she was close to cumming before I'd start counting down. I'd also vary the speed in which I counted so I was certain she'd be fighting not to cum by the time I reached "1". I still believe that every time I "rigged the system" to have her cum when I reached "1", it strengthened her subconscious belief that her body would do as I wanted.
Training her like this worked well, but it had its limitations, especially when you considered my options on "how" I could train her. Most often I was using only using my hand, or a toy to make her cum. Sometimes I could lick her pussy until she was close, only to switch to my hand so I could count down. I didn't like having to change stimuli so close to her cumming, but trying to count while going down on her wasn't very effective.
Needing a more versatile method, I began using my phone as a countdown timer. I'd set a timer on my phone and let it countdown To keep up the consistency, initially I'd provide an audible countdown once the timer was close to expiring. After a while I tested her further by removing my vocal countdown and started letting the timer alarm signal her orgasm.
What I loved about using the timer on the phone is that a) it severely hampered her ability to know when the timer was going off. This meant she stopped "preparing" for herself to cum as the numbers declined, instead she became conditioned to cum to a "command" b) This allowed me to lick her pussy, finger her, use a toy or fuck her, since the phone was doing all the count down work for me.
There was never a day she only came this way only once. Having become more conditioned to the alarm, it wasn't unusual for her to cum ten or more times from an alarm in a single session. I took great pleasure counting the number of times she came and would report it back to her in terms of her old-life.
Prior to our meeting, she considered one orgasm a week to be all she wanted, or could expect. Therefore, if I made her cum 12-times, I'd remind her I'd just given her 3-months worth of orgasms...and for that she should thank me. After all, no other man, toy or even her own hand, had ever made her feel, and cum, the way I did. Yes, I would tell her that, and it was arrogant to do so, but it fit within the Dom/Sub relationship we had at the time. Plus, it's hard not to be a little arrogant when you make a woman cum double-digits every time you see her.
Every time we met her orgasms became easier to achieve as she continued to learn how to push through the hyper-sensitivity her clit felt post-orgasm. Furthermore, she always did as I asked and thanked me for what I did and how I made her feel. She'd thank me with words, her body and a desire to push herself further so I wouldn't become bored. It may sound silly, but for a long while she was very afraid I'd get bored with her if we didn't keep pushing into new territory, and if that happened, then her sexual reawakening would stop. Her desire to please and keep me interested is part of what led to my story about her indecent gift.
In an effort to see how far she'd come, one day I set the timer for 10 minutes, and I teased her until it went off. As expected, once it went off she came. I then cut the timer in half and repeated the experiment, without telling her how long I'd set the timer. As before, when the timer went off, she came again. I kept reducing the time by half every orgasm until the timer was set for 5-seconds.
With only 5-seconds of stimulation, she failed to cum when the timer went off. I had truly expected her to cum, but her body had disobeyed. I didn't tell her it was ok or offer any platitudes; instead I offered a second chance, in a way I knew would be torture.
I made it clear to her that I wasn't pleased that she'd failed to cum, and she needed to show me how sorry she was. I didn't wait for her to ask me "how" she was to do this, I readjusted the timer back to 10-minutes and went back down between her legs.
After having already cum so many times, in shorter and shorter time-frames, going back to "minutes" seemed like an eternity to her. I felt almost justified as I listened to her pleas of "I can't take it" and "I need to cum" as I didn't hold back as I used her. She begged, screamed and nearly cried because she needed to cum so badly, but to her credit, she didn't cum until the timer went off.
Like before, with each orgasm, the timer decreased by half. This time, when I set the timer for 5-seconds, she had no problem cumming when it went off.
I lowered the timer once more to 2-seconds and after that, whenever I felt like it, I'd reach over and hit "Start". She never knew when I was going to hit the button, but 2-seconds after I'd touch my phone, the timer would go off and she'd cum again.
After that day, the timer became my best friend. We'd conduct her orgasm training until she reached the point she was saying "no more" or begging for a break. It was insistence that she'd taken all she could that I'd prove to her she was wrong by starting to fuck her. With the timer on my phone never far away, I'd signal for her pussy contract and milk my cock as often as I wanted.
Having experienced a sea of orgasms before entering her, she was always tight and it made me love the feel her wet pussy even more. The timer also came in handy as I always made sure that whenever I came, she would too. It didn't matter what we were doing or where I came, when I came, I'd set the timer off (usually set at 1-second), and she'd cum with me. (Side note: practicing like this eventually turned my orgasm into another trigger for her own. Once established, she never failed to cum when I did, even during impromptu blowjobs. This reaction became, hands down, her favorite unexpected side-effect of the training)
All of this training was part of a planned progression, in which the goal was for me to be able to say, at any time, "Cum", "Cum for me" or "Cum now", and she'd do so, but we weren't there. The timer was used when I was fingering, licking or fucking her. Her body had always first been used, teased and stimulated by me, making the timer just a tool to signal her to cross the orgasmic finish-line whenever I demanded it.
One day we decided to meet at a park we'd visited a few times before. It was big enough, with enough trails, that it was easy to not run into people. We'd also found a few places where we could see if someone was coming towards us before they'd realistically be able to see what we were up to.
Our walk was mixed with touching, teasing, and at one point, her bending over a log as I fucked her from behind. There were times she showed up to the park wearing a dress, to make fucking her easier, but today wasn't one of those days.
Towards the end of our planned walk, we reached a place that park services had built some steps, due to erosion. I asked her to sit down and things began with my hand discretely going into her shorts to rub her clit. It wasn't long before she'd undone her shorts to provide me better access to her pussy. After cumming that way her shorts found their way to the ground. Another orgasm or two and her panties were now around one foot and my face was between her legs.
Never missing an opportunity, my phone came out and the timer began signaling her orgasms in 1-minute intervals. Something about being outside, in a position we couldn't easily hide what we were doing, made the whole thing more exciting. I pushed her more and more with the timer and kept her cumming as I licked and fingered her. As frequently happened, she reached a point where she began begging "no more" after each orgasm, but I wasn't in a mood to listen.
That day I very distinctly remember having a routine to bring about orgasmic pleasure. I'd lick her pussy until the alarm sounded. Then I'd lick and finger her until the alarm sounded. Then I'd only rub her clit until the alarm sounded. Once those were finished, I'd start the cycle over again, knowing that with each sound of the timer alarm, she would cum again.
I hate to guess the actual number, but it felt as though she'd cum harder and more often than any day before. The training had helped, but being out in public, with the risk of being caught, had also helped strengthen her reaction.
When we finally got back to our cars, I kissed her good-bye, and as I did, I slipped my hand down into her shorts. Pinning her against her car, with several families not far away, I started to rub her very sensitive clit.
I wrapped an arm around her, as if hugging her, as I began to slowly count down. As I counted, her body responded predictably as the familiar progression continued. The closer I got to "1". the harder her breathing became, her body knowing what it must do. When I reached "2", I started back over at "10".
Cindy begged through a whisper, "No please.....", as the entire process started over again. She hated getting so close to cumming and not going over, but she had little choice as she knew it's what I wanted, and she was growing well conditioned to giving me exactly what I asked for.
During my second descent, I slowed my count and she struggled to not let her reaction be obvious to those nearby. Finally I reached "2" and then I repeated it again..."2". I remained on that number, repeating it another time, her body stuck on that number which promised relief, but granted none.
Cindy ached and panted, her body had prepped to cum but remained in limbo. Once more I repeated "2", building the expectation more intensely within her. Finally I pulled my hand out of her shorts and whispered "I'm going to leave you this way. I want you to go home remembering that no matter how many times you came today, you still aren't satisfied and you still want more".
Cindy nearly whimpered as she nodded, the anguish in her eyes obvious to anyone who would have looked at her. She knew that I was right. She'd begged for me to stop earlier, but she wasn't satisfied. She had said it was too much, but she wanted more.
Cindy also understood the harsh reality of her situation...unless I told her she could masturbate, she was forbidden to do so. There would be no alleviating her need once she left, no matter how strong that need became, not unless she had permission. After all, part of controlling her orgasm meant all pleasure, and denial, was my decision, and that didn't change just because we weren't physically together..
We parted ways, and I'll admit it, I felt pretty good. The day had been a success, she'd cum quite like a whore and I suspected that later I'd get a text begging for permission to masturbate. However, that wasn't a text message I was destined to get.
After Cindy left the park, her "real" life responsibilities took over, so she stopped by the grocery store, As she walked around the store, a problem became quickly apparent. When I had slid my hand into her shorts by the car, I had bunched her panties up, and they now rubbed her as she walked. Her already swollen clit ached with need and this fabric-induced rubbing wasn't helping.
Cindy waited until nobody was around, and with a quick grab and tug, she adjusted her panties through her shorts, eliminating the rubbing. She hurried through her shopping and soon found herself on the frozen food aisle.
She stopped in front of a freezer and eyed the frozen corn, the last item she needed. An older gentleman was standing by the same freezer section and he motioned for her to go first. It was at that point the stars aligned in a way you may believe I'm fabricating, but I assure you, I am not.
Cindy opened the freezer door and bent down to get the pack of corn on the cob from the bottom shelf. As she bent over, her panties shifted once more, having not been properly readjusted earlier. The panties provided a quick, and pleasurable rubbing against her clit, right at the same time as someone's phone went off one aisle over. The phone had a ringer which wasn't identical, but was very close, to the timer alarm sound I had been using to train her...the same sound that had her cumming repeatedly in the park not long ago.
The mix of her panties rubbing her clit as she bent over, in combination with the "trigger" sound from the other phone, caused a reaction she could not stop. Just as she reached the corn, her body, having been left in need as she departed the park, responded in the way it had been trained. Cindy's pussy spasmed and she cried out "Fuck", before she could stop herself. Her knees buckled and she had no choice but to grab hold of the freezer door so she wouldn't fall completely to the ground.
Cindy bit her lip as she came in the grocery store, bent over, with a man standing behind her. She didn't want this, but she was helpless to stop it as her body betrayed her and every non-sexual instinct she had.
She had left the park with a body that wanted to cum, and the phone in the next aisle had not only gave her permission to do so, it had "demanded" she give in. Like the obedient little girl she was, her body obeyed in full force..
The man behind her asked her "Are you ok?" and she dared not speak, afraid of gasping or moaning if she opened her mouth. When she didn't respond he stepped closer to her as her pussy still throbbed. She couldn't stop cumming as he offered her his hand, all the while she prayed her public sexual display wasn't as obvious as it felt.
When she finally felt in control enough to stand, she let go to the freezer door. Grabbing the corn she started towards the register. As she turned to escape, she noticed the man who had offered to help was now staring at her with an interesting look on his face. She's always wondered if he knew what was happening, even if he didn't understand "why".
When she got to the car, she called me and told me what had happened. My response was not what she expected.....I laughed. She sat there on the phone, horrified and my response was to tell her that was one of the funniest things I'd ever heard.
When she got home she threw the corn in the freezer, and I soon dubbed it "orgasmic corn". The corn stayed frozen for about a month before she eventually threw it away. She just couldn't bring herself to serve her daughters the corn she was reaching for when she'd had a very public orgasm in front of a stranger.
As the fates would have it, the freezer aisle adventure wasn't an isolated case. About two weeks after the orgasmic corn incident, it happened again. This time it was in the produce section of the same grocery store. A teenage girl had an alert on her phone which was the same as the one I used for my timer (we suspect her alert was for text-messages, but it's only a guess).
On this day, we hadn't seen each other nor was she sexually worked before going to the store. However, when the text message alert went off on the other girl's phone, Cindy nearly came, despite having no prior sexual contact or build-up.
When another text came in moments later, Cindy struggled to fight back the orgasm which had suddenly swelled within her. Then the text alert went off again, and then again. By this time Cindy wanted to scream at the girl to "dammit, just call them", but even if that wasn't rude, her voice couldn't be trusted not to betray the sudden arousal welling up inside her. Instead of speaking, Cindy's Fight-or-Flight instinct surfaced, and she chose to fight.
Cindy initially believed she could keep herself from cumming by determination alone, after all, it was her body and part of her training was delaying her orgasm. Unfortunately, the text-alert which kept going off was also her body's trigger to cum, and this girl's phone was being very insistent.
Remembering the incident in the frozen food aisle, she feared an incoming alert while walking would cause her knees to buckle, and that would only draw more attention to herself. It felt safest to just wait for the girl's family to move on as she pretended to look at vegetables, at least then she could focus on suppressing her body's conditioned sexual response.
As the text conversation continued, Cindy understood she was in a losing battle, and despite her best efforts, she realized that cumming had become a "when" not an "if". Fearing an even bigger public orgasm, Cindy decided it was time for flight. Leaving her shopping cart where it was she walked quickly out of the store, hoping to get away before the next text came through.
Once out of the store she quickened her pace more and didn't stop until she reached her car. Sitting down she relaxed and a sense of relative privacy engulfed her. It was in that moment of safety her body surrendered and she came.
After denying herself so many times in the store, her triggered orgasm didn't provide her the relief to her sexual need it should have. Her body still screamed for more and she saw no other choice but to ask for forgiveness later. Willing to accept any punishment I might give her, she slid her hand into her panties and made herself cum twice more in the parking lot.
Her head finally clear, she drove home, too afraid to go back into the store. Once home she told her daughters she'd forgotten she needed some things at the store, and asked for a volunteer to run back out for her.
The nature of our relationship was openness and honesty, so she told me what had happened in the store, and of her defiant act of self-pleasure in the car, Like the frozen food aisle, I found humor in what had happened, so I forgave her unsanctioned masturbation. After all, it'd been a result of a triggered orgasm....a conditioned response I'd been working to create.
It was after this second unexpected public orgasm I decided we should stop using the alarm on my phone as a trigger for her orgasms. After all, the alarm was never suppose to be the end result, it had just been a tool which allowed me more freedom as I trained her to cum to a triggering event.
Her reaction in the store this second time made it clear that yes, she could be trained to cum as a conditioned response. Moreover, the second instance also showed that she would respond to that trigger even if it was during an inopportune time, with no prior stimulation or arousal, and that's what I wanted.
Whether the story about Pavlov was fictional or not, I was close to my goal of "owning" her sexual response. However, these incidents contained one last lesson....her conditioning was far too broad. After all, if I wanted to be the one that controlled her orgasms then I needed to find a way to ensure that neither her hand, her toys nor any other person, would be able to make her cum, no matter how badly she wanted it.
@Bi_for_all1000 - You don't know the half of it. I eventually had a phrase and a gesture I could use to trigger her orgasm. I enjoyed using the gesture in public and then I'd watch her try to hide the fact she was cumming. I particularly loved doing that as she ordered in restaurants.
I'd also send her emails or leave voicemails, and in the middle I'd use the trigger phrase. What was great about voicemails is she'd miss what I said after that and would often have to listen to it multiple times to get the information. For a while she was almost terrified to open anything I sent her unless she was alone,
I'm not sure I'll write about this, but at one point we took a "break" and she found out how effective the "only cum when I want you to" training had been. She wasted many hours with her toy and hand, and then tried hooking up with another guy before she accepted her orgasms were no longer within her control.
laterlifestoriesReport
I'd also send her emails or leave voicemails, and in the middle I'd use the trigger phrase. What was great about voicemails is she'd miss what I said after that and would often have to listen to it multiple times to get the information. For a while she was almost terrified to open anything I sent her unless she was alone,
I'm not sure I'll write about this, but at one point we took a "break" and she found out how effective the "only cum when I want you to" training had been. She wasted many hours with her toy and hand, and then tried hooking up with another guy before she accepted her orgasms were no longer within her control.
Bi_for_all1000Report