Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Sympathetic orgasms

There is a certain irony to writing about orgasms when I have ceded control over mine to the sadist and am allowed very few indeed. Even then, they are still his, elicited for the pleasure he derives from observing my responses and relishing the sounds of my moans and whimpers and indescribable noises followed by a rising sequence of squeezed squeals and then soul-shaking sobs.

Oh, he does enjoy the sounds I create for him.

But I'm not writing about those orgasms. And some might not even think to grant the noble name of Orgasm to what I am about to describe. But there is no question that this is what they are. There is the pleasurable stimulation, the rising tension, and then a physical manifestation of release. Sometimes there is even an unguarded escape of noises at the moment of climax. However, there is nothing obviously sexual in the activity. There is no cock deep inside me, no hand caressing my clit, no fingers pinching my nipples, no mouth melding into mine.

You can't see the lover who forces such a response from my body.

My molester is music.

Now here I'm afraid I have to be a little evasive. For the reaction I'm revealing is caused by a specific family of instruments. My friends, who are totally oblivious to my kinky alter ego, are well aware of my love for these magical arrays of strings. Some have heard me describe how the music strikes me in the womb, and my very best friend has been with me as the tremors flash through my helpless body. I'd hate to have one of our crowd Google the instrument and come across this post.

I will say that they are multi-stringed folk instruments. Lots and lots and lots of strings. Requiring lots and lots of tuning. And when everything is in harmony, the whole world vibrates. If you really want to discuss it further, please e-mail me privately.

What I said about the effect on my womb is not metaphor. It really happens. As the sounds and the joy and the exuberance and the lushness of the tunes and harmonies and ornaments swirl around me, they set off these little contractions in my womb.

And I always use that term.
It seems much more primal than the other one.
Not uterus.

So the contractions start and the tension spreads through my body and I am high on the ecstasy of the music and I'm grinning ear to ear except then suddenly I'm not grinning and I get that look - you know that look - not exactly a grimace here in the middle of a concert but my eyes change and the texture of my face changes and my lips part and my breathing... I'm not sure what my breathing does, by that point I'm not observing very well and then all of a sudden it happens.

A sharp shiver shakes my body from top to bottom.

If you were sitting next to me, you couldn't miss it.
You might pass it off for a sudden chill.
But it was quite the opposite.
Things became much too hot.

Among the world's stringed instruments, there are those equipped with what are known as sympathetic strings. These are not played directly. They are neither bowed nor plucked. They just hum along. When properly tuned, they respond to the song of the stimulated strings, forming a heavenly backup chorus. An example in Western music is the viola d'amore; folk instruments range from the sitar to the gudulka and the hardingfele.

My womb contains a set of sympathetic strings.
And when I hear my favorite music played, I have no choice.
I cum.

Written by invitation for little girl's project orgasm. You can read about lg's own orgasmic experiences here: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6. Then check out today's post for links to the many courses in a big, potluck project orgasm holiday party. See you there!


Paul said...

OG, an interesting detail of your life, how does your Sadist react to these forbidden orgasms?
Is this instrument of a Ukrainian
Love and warm hugs,

baby girl said...

my ex once said that our meeting was akin to these sympathetic strings you speak of. like when you have two guitars in a room. if you pluck a string from one, the same string from the other will vibrate (if tuned properly, of course).

i also wonder what your master thinks of these uninvited orgasms...

littlegirl said...

look at all your readers, dying to hear about you getting in trouble!

i just want to say that this is totally fascinating. thank you for putting together such a lyric and primal post (womb!) on such an amazing ability.


oatmeal girl said...

I did tell the sadist about this project, and that I was going to write about these spontaneous orgasms. Egotist that he is, he assumed I was referring to the terramotos I've experienced from the scenarios I've envisioned out of the brief suggestions he has fed me, and thought that was a perfectly fine idea. I need to wrote about those as well sometime. Like when we were IM'ing and I started twitching and contracting so hard that he sent me to the phone with the order to let it go into a full-scale orgasm, the sounds of which I was to leave him as a voice mail.

Paul, it's not a bandura, but is indeed an instrument which can be found in Ukraine and many other countries in that part of the world. It originated, however, in Persia.

baby girl, I once played my own multi-stringed instrument in the middle of a glorious wooden pavilion as part of an Eastern European ensemble featuring hundreds and hundreds of strings. probably at least 600. The floor of the building acted as a sound board, and it was as if we were playing inside a gigantic piano. An unforgettable experience. An given the summer weather and the outdoor setting, you can bet we were not by any means all in tune!

yes, lg, sometimes I wonder which ones are the real sadists... and thanks for the kind compliment. you can always count on me to do something a bit off from everyone else ;-)

Laani said...

This was truly a unique orgasm! And your writing about it was beautiful. Moonlight Sonata is called "the orgasm song" only partly tongue in cheek by my friends and I, but this is way beyond that!

persephone said...

love it!

i haven't done it since i was in music school, but my friends and i used to lay on the floor and listen to the music that moved us most. it wasn't uncommon to call the music orgasmic. i don't chase that feeling these days, but every once in a while it comes upon me. love your post!