Is Internet Porn DESTROYING your marriage? (that’s what the card on the wall asked)
My story began a year ago at the start of summer. I’m Kathy, a social worker in my home town hospital. I went to school to become an RN but got pregnant with our first before graduating. I plan to go back some day, I hope.
My husband Joe is a furniture warehouse factory worker. We have 2 teenage daughters, a nice split-level home, 2 good cars, Well mine’s a Chrysler mini-van, and what I thought was a good marriage. That was until Joe set up his little office in the basement.
It was almost summer when Joe said he needed his own space. I didn’t mind. I had seen the shows about the Man-Cave. This was a small space, no windows, not much more than a big closet really. I really expected him to get a pool-table and a huge TV. And this project of his gave my husband something to do when he was home. My vision of it was a place for the men to hang out when we had a party, but it turned out to be just a little office.
I went down one night to see if he needed a drink and maybe a snack. I stopped at the bottom of the steps when I heard a weird rhythmic pat-pat-pat-pat. I peeked in, and could see the glow of his computer screen on his contorted face, and he was doing something in his lap under the desk. Then, in the glass of the poster picture of ‘Ironman’ behind my husband I saw IT! The picture on his screen glowed with the naked image of nasty horrible GD PORN!
I screamed at him and threw the plate and glass at him. He denied everything. Later he tried to explain he was looking at porn but it meant nothing to him.
I asked him if I wasn’t enough for him.
He repeated again and again that it was just ‘A little PORN and meant nothing.’
For weeks we didn’t talk. For months we didn’t hug or kiss or cuddle or have sex. Summer ended and I had caught him a few more times, but we didn’t get as vicious about it. I just avoided him all the more. All summer I considered taking the k**s and leaving him, or packing his bags and locking the door behind him. As I said, this went on for months.
I had taken the summer off to spend time with our k**s, and now it was time for them to go back to school and for me to go back to work again.
Jim and I needed to talk, so we went out alone, just the 2 of us one night, and talked over dinner and a few glasses of wine. I asked him how long he had been looking at porn.
He was being honest with me as we were trying to work out our differences and save our marriage. He explained he was looking before the summer, actually had viewed porn even way back before we were even married. But lately it had become a compulsion for him. He said he couldn’t help himself. He said when summer arrived he needed a little privacy for when the k**s got out of school and I was home with the f****y. He said it had been going on for years, but he was wanting to quit now, to save our marriage.
Naturally I couldn’t talk to my close friends or coworkers about any of this. It was just too shameful! I remembered that there was a friend, Amy, from back in med-school. I recall she was foot-loose and fancy-free, and always a bit on the wild side.
After school, I came south and she went north to a city 2 hours drive away. We hadn’t talked since school 16 years ago.
I wondered who she was now so I looked her up on FaceBook. She was easy to find and had lots of nice pictures on her page. I befriended her, and she wrote back the next day.
She asked, “How are you old riend? Long time no see!”
I gave her a short biography with a picture of me and the f****y.
She said it was good to hear from me, and she was still single and had 3 boyfriends, 2 younger than her, one white, and no intention to start a f****y. She is married to her work and the hospital is her f****y.
She liked hearing I had 2 k**s, and asked, “How is married life treating you?”
I told her it had ups and downs, but overall it was good. I gave her my cell number and told her to call me when she had time. She called right then. I guess she had some time on her hands.
Amy said, “Hello Kathy. Good to actually hear your voice. FaceBook is nice but it can’t beat the old one-on-one phone call. Can it girl?”
I said, “Amy, it is so good to hear you too. How is everything?”
She said, “Well, I’m always on the run here. You must be too with all that f****y stuff.”
I replied, “Well, the k**s are back in school now and Joe’s working the night shift, so most nights its homework and dinner and TV before bed.”
She said, “Well, sometimes I wish I could take a night off and just enjoy dinner and some TV.”
I asked, “What do you do that keeps you running?”
Amy said, “Aside from double shifts, I go out a lot.” She giggled, “I told you I have 3 boyfriends. They feed me so I don’t starve, and we go dancing a lot, second best exercise in the world.” She giggled again. “I also represent a pharmaceutical company and work the parties, doctors you know. I mix business with pleasure.” Again she giggled.
I said, “Wow that sounds like you have your hands full, but don’t your ‘boyfriends’ get jealous of each other, not to mention you hanging out with all those good looking very well to do doctors?”
She said, “Actually, I keep them on a schedule so, well, it does get a little complicated time to time, but, well, actually my boys do know I am seeing other people, as are they, but no, no one gets jealous or possessive. Why? Honey, are you having troubles?”
I was shocked. How could she have come to that conclusion so quickly?
She said as though she were reading my mind, “Honey, you looked me up out of the blue after 9 years, you’re married but mostly talk about your k**s, and when you do mention your husband it is in 3 and 4 word sentences, and now you ask about jealousy issues.”
I tried to interrupt but she continued, “I took a semester of psychology, remember? Not much, but enough to reason out you are looking for a friend to talk to, but that friend must be almost a stranger, like me. Am I right girl?”
I hemmed and hawed before finally saying, “Well yes.”
Amy cooed, “Girl, I have the weekend off. I’ll be down Friday night. Can we go out on the town to do this talking? I’ve never been to Orlando.”
I told her, “I’ll put in for the weekend too, and we’ll paint the town.”
The k**s came in, so I said good bye to Amy and hung up.
I told Joe that Amy, an old friend from back in Med-school, was coming down for the weekend and we were going out for a girl’s night out Friday and Saturday nights.
He said that sounded like fun, and he was fine with it. Hoped we would have lots of fun getting reacquainted.
Friday came, and Amy arrived around noon. The conversation was bla bla bla, small talk, as I expected the k**s home soon. I called a friend who has k**s the same age, and asked if she could watch them for a few hours, until Jim got home. She said sure, so I drove them over when they came in the door.
When I got back, Amy suggested we get a cab to see the town. I tried to explain I had my van, but she waved the thought away.
She said, “This is the way we do things in the city. See, this way we have a designated driver, so we can drink and talk and relax.”
Actually, sitting in the back of the cab with her was nice. It really did give us time to relax, and really chat. We spent the afternoon shopping at the local mega-mall. We had mani-pedis and got our hair done.
We actually changed our cloths in the Macy’s changing rooms, and paid for the dresses as we left. We had undies and stockings from V-Secret, hehe, and shoes from a boutique in the isle of the mall. We even got jewelry from another boutique. Let me tell you, we were knockouts!
I guess this is the best place to tell you how we looked while we were at our best, that is. Amy is a black woman, 5’ 8” without shoes on, and she was now wearing 4 inch pumps. Her breasts, well I’m not comfortable talking about another woman’s body parts, but her figure is a very shapely 42-24-44. And with her hair and fingers and toes and jewelry all matching sparkly and fresh, and that tight RED dress with absolutely no back to it… well, use your imagination.
I’m from the Philippines so my skin is caramel. I’m 5 feet tall flat footed, but I too had on 4 inch heels this night. My gown was a teal blue skirt with a sheer white short-sleeved blouse. Amy had me buy a matching bra and undies in the same color, and you could see them through the material of my shirt. I felt so nasty sexy. Oh, my figure is 32-20-30 at 100 pounds even. I’m 43 and she is 42, although if you ask she will say she is 29 and holding.
After the mall, we caught another cab that took us to a local bar with dancing, per Amy’s request. We could hear the loud thumping music before we even got through the door, feel it in our chests as we entered.
The air was thick with odors; smoke, and sweat, colognes, and perfumes, a little dust kicked up from the dancing crowd.
We found a table near the wall and beside the dance-floor. I felt a bit nervous. Amy ordered drinks and some bready snacks. She could see I was out of my element, so she explained the bread would soak up the alcohol and the rest we would sweet out on the dance floor. The place was hopping.
We danced together a couple times. It was fun but awkward, like being in a high-school dance with the wall-flowers, girls dancing with girls. I remembered those days. The guys all said they couldn’t dance. Ya, awkward.
We were sitting, trying to talk over the music when a handsome young man asked me to dance. I shook my hand and said I couldn’t, as I saw my wedding ring waiving before my eyes. He then turned to Amy, and she accepted. I couldn’t do it. I’m married.
I looked at my watch and it was 11:00, about time for Joe to get off work. I remembered the k**s. I headed for some place, any place I could make a call. In the hall near the bathrooms it was crowded with other callers, but the perfect place.
I called Joe and asked him to go by and pick up the k**s after work.
He said he would, then added, “Sounds like you’re having fun. Have a great time babe and stay out as long as you like. I’ve got the k**s. Love you!”
I told him I couldn’t hardly hear and had to go. I told him I loved him too, and hung up. I was standing there wondering if it was just me or were things really so bad between us. I felt when he talked like this he was the perfect man, the man I love, the man I married.
As I stood there getting bumped around by comers and goers seeking bladder relief, I realized I had been staring at a corkboard with business cards on it, all over it. But one was talking to me. In big bold red print the card asked, ‘Is Internet Porn DESTROYING your marriage?’
I don’t know how long I had been staring at it. I had probably seen it the entire time I was talking with Joe, but it hadn’t registered what it said. I was talking, watching the crowd so I didn’t get groped or knocked over, and the whole time, even though I hadn’t noticed it, that card was looking back at me with its bold accusation.
I looked around to see if anyone else was watching me, and I could see that everyone was in their own little worlds, so I took the card. I took it and slipped it with my purse deep into my purse.
I returned to our empty table where I could see Amy out on the dance floor with her partner. I sipped my drink, and I patted my purse secure in what I planned to do tomorrow.
Later after several more drinks and a few more rejections by me to dance, Amy asked me for my phone. I handed it to her questioningly. She dialed Joe, actually redialed as he was the last person I had called. Then she yelled over the din of the music.
“Hello Joe, this is Amy, Kathy’s friend. Yes, hello to you. Yes we are having fun, well I am, no. No Kathy refuses to dance with anyone, would you give her permission to, oh I don’t think it’s good enough for me to, no, no you have to, ok,” then she handed the phone to me.
Joe could hear me but it was real hard to hear him, “Hello Kathy, Amy sounds like a fun friend. Go ahead and dance if you want to.”
I told him I didn’t want to.
He said, “Amy said you wouldn’t try unless I gave you permission so go dance hun. Have some fun.”
I tried to say no but Amy took the phone and yelled thank you and hung up.
The next guy that came to our table to ask for a dance, Amy said, “GO on Kathy, let your hair down and be a woman for a little while, not a mom or wife. Now go!” and with that she shoved me out of my chair and the nice guy caught me and led me to the floor.
It was fun to let loose for an hour or so. I did unwind. We danced with a few more really handsome men and before we knew it we heard, “Last call!”
Amy said it was time to go. She led the way out the door. It was like she had done this every day of her life. She got us out front and with a wave of her hand had us a cab. We sat together in the back and chatted like school k**s as we rode home.
I remember, when we got home, how sore my feet were. I wined and rubbed my toes, while she talked and talked. I learned a lot about how she did her things back home. Joe and the k**s were fast asl**p. Then she asked me about my troubles, the reason I had contacted her.
I told her it was no big deal really, and that Joe and I had worked it all out before she came down. She wasn’t buying it. She pushed, “Come on girl, what was it all about? You called me out of the blue after 16 years and you’re telling me you worked it out in the last 2 days? Sorry, but that’s just pure bullshit Honey.”
I know I blushed as she caught me in my lie. Now I knew how Joe must have felt when I confronted him with his lie. Boy did I feel small at that moment. I said, “You’re right, but it is just too shameful to even mention.”
Amy said, “That’s why you picked me, an almost total complete stranger to vent to. So out with it. What is so shameful, and I’m telling you, it is easiest if you just blurt it out, let it flow, get it out and over with, and tomorrow I will be 100 miles away and you will feel so much better.”
I did it. I did just as she said. I said, “Well, I, a couple, no a few months ago I caught Joe looking at, well he was, he had porn on his computer and he was…”
She asked, “You caught Joe looking at porn in the basement?”
I said, “NO, it wasn’t just looking at it, he was, well he, he was masturbating to it!” There I had said it. I had told her the whole truth. I realized I had my eyes shut when I heard her giggling. I looked to see what she found so amusing.
Amy said in a higher tone than her usual tenor voice, “Listen girl, all men jack off, and most of them look at porn and jack off. I’m not making excuses for Jim, I mean Joe. He should be loving on you every night, but if he isn’t it’s not because of porn girl, it’s because you are not exciting him the way you need to. You have to do stuff to keep your man. You do want to keep him, right?”
I said, “Yes, absolutely!”
She said, “Well Honey, men need to be inspired. It’s not enough just to catch them and land them. That’s the easy part. When you marry them you’ve got to inspire them.”
I asked, “How am I supposed to do that?”
Amy said, “Girl remember the saying men are like dogs and women are like cats? Well, whatcha got to do with a dog? You gota play with it. Play with it every day girl. Women are like cats. We don’t need the daily attention. Pet us when we rubup against a man and we are happy, but men, no they’re dogs, every one of them. Got to pet their desires every day.”
I said, “I don’t want to inspire men, just one man, Joe!”
She said, “Kathy, I aint a psych and I don’t know Joe, but I’m here to tell you, all you need to get his mind off that computer is give him his porn in the bedroom. You got to be willing to be a little slutty in bed with him. Be his porn star. Use nasty words with vulgar suggestions when you’re alone with him. Hell, it’s your bedroom and your marriage. It’s no one’s business what you 2 say and do behind that door, right?”
I nodded my head, but I was tipsy and her words were really just going in one ear and out the other at that moment. She saw my glazed half lidded eyes and realized she was talking to a zombie, so she said, “Go to bed girl. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I don’t remember most of that or going to bed even, she told me about it in a recap of what she remembered happening last night. If you asked me I would have told you the night ended somewhere between leaving the club and the drive home.
Saturday she met Joe in person for the first time. She gave me a smile and said “Good catch.” Then I took her to the pool, the Del Reyes for lunch, the mall this time for some exercise as we walked off lunch in a long leisurely stroll, and finally the Orlando night life again. This time we went to the City-Walk and enjoyed the crowd and the music and the drinks.
Amy asked me as the night was winding down, “Do you feel better today? You look like you let a load off.”
I said, “Oh yes Amy! It has been so wonderful seeing you again, and this weekend with you, and you letting me unload on you all my dirty laundry. I do, I do feel like a great load has been lifted off me. I don’t know what I’m going to do next, but today I feel like a woman again.”
Amy laughed again. I don’t know if she was laughing at me or with me, but I started to laugh at the fun we had had all this weekend too.
When the City-Walk closed we took a cab back to the house. Amy packed her bags, and I went to bed. Sunday morning we said our goodbyes and she was gone again.
Joe and the k**s and I spent the day cleaning the house for another week. I had laundry and cooking to get done. Joe had the lawn and other small jobs to do. The girls did the last of their homework. By nightfall our house was ready for another week.
I fed the f****y and cleaned the pots and pans. The girls went to bed, and Joe went down stairs. I felt an itch and just had to check out what he was doing down there. So, I crept down one slow step at a time.
There he was at his computer. He had both hands on the keyboard, so I knew he wasn’t, you know. I stepped into the room, and he shuffled quickly to close things on his desktop. I asked him what he was looking at.
Joe said, “I’m sorry Hun.”
I said, “Never mind,” and held my anger as I walked back up stairs. I thought, how could he ruin such a good weekend. I remembered Amy saying, all men do this. I remembered how nice he was to me on the phone when he told me to have fun at the bar and that I could dance with other men, even though I didn’t want to. I remembered the big red bold print that said, “Is Internet Porn DESTROYING your marriage?”
I had to find out what that was about. Amy had said it was no big deal, that all men do it, but this was killing me!
I found the card buried deep in my purse. I read it out loud.
Is Internet-Porn destroying your marriage?
Free counseling offered for study of Internet-Porn Addiction. Anonymity assured
Your information will help US in furthering our research.
If we can help YOU with a marital problem of this nature
PLEASE contact us Mon thru Thu between the ours of 9am and 3pm at xxx-xxx-xxxx
At this point I was so angry, desperate for help, I had to make this stop. I couldn’t see how Amy’s advice would possibly help, talking dirty to Joe and being his porn-star in our bedroom wasn’t the answer, couldn’t be! He had married me, not some slut.
I went to bed, and Joe was there waiting. He apologized again and said it wouldn’t happen again, but we both knew it would. I climbed in on my side and turned my back to him, and went to sl**p. I don’t think either of us slept good that night.
The next morning I told Joe to take the k**s to school, that I had something to do.
They left the house just before 9. I called the service on the card just after 9.
A man answered the phone. He sounded black, maybe. I’m not prejudice but there is a difference in the voices of different ethnicities. I’m Filipina and I have an accent. His wasn’t so much an accent as a deep rich tone with a few words that gave me that feeling he was.
I was hesitant but he assured me the call was totally confidential, and all he wanted to do was help if he could. He explained the program. It was a school study and the focus was not only on Internet Porn Addiction, but also in the hold it has on people and weather it could be interrupted.
He said his name is Levant Smith, and he would be my case worker if I met the requirements.
I asked him what the requirements were.
He said I had to love my husband, he had to be addicted to porn, we both had to want to work through the addiction, and we had to be married.
I asked him why.
He said, the study is for married couples only, not singles as there needs to be a deep commitment between them, a commitment to see this through for better or worse, as the wedding vows commit each other to. He said, “If you are thinking about separating or divorce you are not coming into this with the right attitude.”
I asked, “But how can I know?”
Mr. Smith asked, “You got k**s mam?” He called me mam. That was one reason I felt he was a black man.
I said yes.
“What’s the name of the oldest?”
“Well,” he said, “How long did it take Sharon to learn to walk?”
I said, “she was walking by 17 months.”
He shocked me with this next question, “At what point would you have given up on Sharon, 20 months, 24 months, 3 years? When would you have thrown in the towel and said, well I give up on Sharon?”
I said, “Never!”
He said, “What if it was a neighbor’s k**? That’s different, right? But you have a commitment to Sharon that goes beyond care. We here at the institute call it love. This is why we insist the couple be married and want to make this work for them no matter what. Do you understand?”
I said yes.
He asked for my email address, then said he was sending us a Candidate Application Form for us to apply to enter the program. Mr. Smith said, “Fill out the form, and I’ll get back in touch with news. Each case has to be reviewed by a professor first.”
The form was simple but thorough. It asked us to clip a picture of us, both of us together, taken this year, to the letter before returning. It asked our citizenships, ethnicity, religion, ages, weights, and housing region. It asked how long we had been married, prior marriages, c***dren, no names but their ages. Work status for both of us. Did we feel we are both healthy on a scale of 1 to 10. A contact numbers for each, and Then submit.
I got a call the next week on Monday. It was Mr. Smith, and he said we were prime candidates for the study. He asked me if I was still motivated to do this.
I said yes.
He asked if Joe was also motivated to do this.
I explained that he had said many times he wanted to quit and felt very bad but that he was driven to view porn, but that I had not mentioned this study to him yet. I said I wanted to wait to see if we were eligible first.
Mr. Smith said he understood. He said the next step was to tell Joe and see if we were both agreeable to this, and let him know by tomorrow. In the meantime he assigned me the task of doing some research.
I was to go on Joe’s computer and copy his internet search history, and email it to Mr. Smith, so he could evaluate the degree and slant of my husband’s addiction. He explained again, all this would be kept sealed in a file with a number, no names on it, and only he and his professor would be privy to the information.
Mr. Smith instructed me to wipe the history after copying it. He explained how. He told me, “If Joe notices anything, tell him the power went off and on a few times today and maybe that did something to his computer.”
I did the task, and when Joe got home I told him about the study and how I wanted us to try it.
Joe was shocked at first. He said he felt I didn’t trust him. I told him I believe he is addicted to Internet Porn and addicts need help to get free.
He said he needed time to think about this.
I told him we had been accepted into the study but needed to make a decision by tomorrow. I told him I really wanted this. I added, “If you don’t want this too, then the next time I catch you looking at porn I’m leaving you Joe! I can’t take this anymore. Do you want to save our marriage or not?”
Joe hung his head and said yes.
I asked him if that meant I could tell Mr. Smith we were both agreed and committed to doing this, and Joe said yes again.
He never noticed my tampering of his computer, or at least never mentioned it.
The next day I contacted Mr. Smith. He sounded happy to hear from me, “Hello Mrs. Dicks. I hoped to hear from you today. Are we a go then? Is Joe on board?”
I told him “Yes. Joe was a little reluctant but then he realized how serious our situation is, so yes, he is in 100% now too.”
Mr. Smith said, “In that case you should call me Levant. I will be your personal case worker. I will give you instructions, and you will supply me with results.”
I asked, “What if I have a problem or questions Levant?” I was practicing calling him by his first name.
He said, “If you have questions just ask me. I may have to run them by the professor before replying, but I will get you an answer as soon as I can, I promise.”
I asked, “Well, what do we do next?”
Levant said, “I have to go through the info you have sent me so far, but for now I want you to look up male chastity on the internet. Don’t be shy. Read all you can, and I will contact you Friday around 3 to discuss what you’ve learned.”
I asked, “What’s a male chastity, and is this part of the program? I don’t think we it sounds like something we might want to do, Levant.”
“This is a test Kathy,” he answered me, “to see if you can follow my instructions. The professor is looking to see if I can properly motivate the 2 of you. Please don’t let me down.”
I didn’t realize he would be evaluated by Joe’s and my actions. I said, “Sorry Levant. I’ll look this up.”
He said, “In the meantime I will look over this history of your husband’s and we can go from there. Tell Joe I want to talk to him next week. In the meantime ignore him and avoid arguments. Okay Kathy?”
I said yes, and we hung up.
I felt awkward hearing him call me Kathy, and a bit uncomfortable calling him Levant. It felt too unprofessional, too familiar, too comfortable, but maybe this was a test too. And what was this male-chastity, and why did they want me to look it up?
I told Joe he would need to talk to Mr. Smith next week.
He said he would.
For the next 4 days I searched the words male chastity, and was really surprised at how much porn popped up. I was using Joe’s computer, and worried he would see what I had been looking at, as each site I viewed was saved therein, just like his. Each time I did a search I deleted the history.
Joe had been good these days. I noticed his history was free of porn sites. In fact I notice Joe didn’t even go down stairs these days. It made me feel we had a chance at this.
Friday came and Joe was at work when Mr. Smith called. He insisted me again to call him Levant, “I’m not a professor. I call them Mr. So please just call me Levant, okay Kathy?”
I realized he never asked if he could call me Kathy, but I didn’t mind. I actually liked the sound of my name when he said it in that deep rich voice of his.
I said, “Okay Levant, I did what you asked. A lot of porn sights popped up in my searches, and then finally I found several devices called a male chastity.”
He said, “Very good Kathy. Did you learn anything in your searches?”
I said, “Well, aside from it being a torture device, a category on many of those porn sites, and specifically a device to incase the male genitals, what else did you want me to learn?”
Levant said, “Well, first was for you to notice how porn on the internet is literally thrown at you from any search, some more than others. Did you know if you do a search for John Hopkins, the founder of the hospital, one of the first pop ups will be a porn site?”
I said, “Wow, I never realized how bad it was.”
He said, “So Kathy, I want you to look at Joe’s problem in a new light. He is addicted to something thrown at him every time he goes on line. He didn’t chose this. He was exposed to it and infected by it. He has a disease Kathy, a disease we believe can be cured.”
I said, “Wow, I never saw it like this, not until you just showed me. I love my Joe, but now I have faith we can do something about this and save our marriage. Thanks Mr. I mean Levant.”
He said, “Also, I wanted you to learn some facts about that device beyond the pornography. Do you know when it was invented and by who?”
I answered weekly, “I think I read that it was made in… the Victorian era?”
He said, “That’s right Kathy. Very good. Now, was it made for torture and pornographic purposes?”
I ventured a guess, “I really don’t know Mr. Smith, but my guess would be… NO?”
He said, “Call me Levant please, and you are correct, it was not. It was made for wayward husbands who couldn’t control their urges. They would find themselves catching VDs from the prostitutes, plus other problems. Then these men would come home and not have any desire or energy for their wives. And worse, when they did have relations with their wives they passed on the diseases they had picked up.
I am going to be blunt Kathy. You told me you had some medical training, so please try to look at all this clinically as I explain.”
I agreed to this.
He continued, “The doctors of the time realized men who had too many ejaculations lowered their testosterone, plus exposure to unclean women raised chances for catching VDs. Do you know what testosterone is?”
I said, “Yes. I went to nursing school.”
He continued, “Well, the solution back then was to put a metal tube around the penis and secure it to a metal ring around the testacies. Today we use plastic, but the unit works in the same way, to the same outcome. The way we use a chastity it is a medical tool, not a sexual toy.
They did not looking at it as punishment, and neither are we. It simply prevented sexual activity, so the man doesn’t expel his testosterone in his ejaculate, not until he is alone with his wife. We want the same thing for you and your husband. Do you understand?”
I said, “I see.”
Levant continued, “In the past the wife held her husband’s key in most cases, releasing her husband weekly for their time of pleasure together. In the meantime his testosterone would build, and not be spent.
Sometimes a doctor would hold the key if the husband was violent or the wife too submissive to resist him, but not usually from the studies we have made. So, do you see, it was not anything like it is implied now on the internet. It was invented as a tool for the f****y wellbeing.”
I said I could see this. I said, “It was just how it appeared on line that made me think otherwise. I still feel it is a little over kill though, if you are planning to tell me to consider this with Joe. I mean, well, Joe’s not sl**ping around. It’s just a little internet porn.” The moment it came out of my mouth I remembered Joe using these exact same words, and I felt sick to my stomach.
Levant said, “Listen Kathy, I don’t want to upset you, but sometimes the medicine is a little hard to swallow. In this case, I can understand. I want you to talk with Joe over the next weekend. Show him what you’ve learned about male chastity. Tell him I said the next step in this program will be to come to the conclusion this can be a good thing for your marriage. If either of you decide it is not for you, we will sponge your record. Okay?”
I said, “No, I mean yes, Mr. I mean Levant, we want to find a solution, we need to find a solution, and I can see maybe how this might work, but…”
He interrupted, “Listen Kathy, we understand this program isn’t for everybody. Some people cannot get past the stigma of using a device like this without visualizing some form of punishment or pornography. But remember, chastity doesn’t cause pain. It simply prevents sexual activity with the penis. If you and Joe want to drop out just let me know.”
His voice changed to almost a whisper, “But Kathy, if the 2 of you decide to follow the program, we plan to show Joe how to receive wonderful sexual pleasure through your experiences. We will train him how best to please you and through this receive his pleasure. It’s circular logic, and the better you feel the better he is going to feel, and the 2 of you will grow to hungry for each other’s joy.”
He said that together we should read the chastity week schedule that he would email us, if we continued. Then he told me he planned to call Joe at his work Monday, and to tell him to expect the call between 4 and 5pm.
I said I would and goodbye to Levant. I felt so enlightened and full of hope.
That night before Joe got home I found the chastity week schedule and printed it off. I wanted to read it first. It was a bit technical and sterile in wording, as one would expect from a medical study. But the proposed daily duties were quite unexpected. I skimmed the entire thing, then waited for Joe to come home for the details.
The k**s were asl**p when he arrived. I met him at the door and asked him if he was still agreeable to the program I had mentioned. Joe said yes. I told him we had something to read together.
We went up to the bedroom, and got in bed. I handed Joe the weekly plan, and I asked him if he would read it to me while I listened. He said yes.
The weekly chastity schedule started off with a preamble stating this was a program to help, yada yada yada, that it followed a multi-step plan. That we were about to start the first step.
Step 1 was all about getting the right chastity, measurements, etc.
In this step we were advised to share a 5 minute kiss at least 3 times a day.
We were then advised to have conjugal relations daily until the unit arrived.
We were firmly told to shave all my husband’s pubic hair. It was also recommended that we make it a mutual activity, with him shaving me as well.
Aside from the fact we usually didn’t have sex but once or twice a month, and as of late it had been 3 months since we consummated our marriage, a bout of daily sex didn’t sound impossible, but it did sound extreme. Still we were in this together for better or worse, and I could think of a whole lot worse things than bathing each other, and having sex with my Joe every day.
The instructions went on to inform us, this step would end when the chastity device arrived. We would receive Step 2 in our email after notifying our case worker.
I wanted to call Levant right then and say we are definitely in and eager to proceed. That’s when I remembered to tell Joe to expect Mr. Smith’s call Monday between 4 and 5.
Joe said, “I’ll do that Hun,” and he leaned over and kissed me, really kissed me. Joe kissed me for a good 5 minutes I think and we melted into each other’s arms, our bodies bolding to one another. We made love for at least 5 minutes, and we shared the most passion we had shared in many years. It was wonderful.
The next night after Joe got home, I bathed him and shaved his pubic hair. His penis looked like a little naked pink mouse. I washed his body from his head to his feet.
Joe then washed my body totally. I let him shave my outer labia, and trimmed my bush, we left a little patch on the top of my Venus Mounds. Wow I was so sensitive buy the time we got into bed together.
I wanted to show Joe how much I love him and wanted us to do this together, so I went down on him. I’m not really good at this, but I did my best, swallowing his hard penis swirling my tongue around it and darting the tip into the little slit at the top of the head. His penis got so hard and the head got so red, it grew to at least 6 inches long. It looked like it was about to explode. I had never seen my Joe’s penis look so big and angry and veiny.
I wanted to move on top of him and feel this new monster of his inside of me, but Joe had other ideas in mind. He rolled me to my back and crawled between my legs. He licked my labia until they opened like the peddles of a flower for him, and I could feel my fluids leaking out from deep inside of me.
I tried to push him away. The thought of my nasty fluids getting into Joe’s mouth disgusted me. Joe didn’t seem to care. He fought to stay there with his lips on my labia and his tongue deep in my vagina. And OH it felt so wonderful.
I about exploded when he then moved up to kiss and suck on my clitoris, now throbbing and sticking out of my pussy like my own angry little red penis. And then I felt my vaginal fluids flow like an erupting volcano and my nipples started to tingle and then I was in another place.
I realized later that my Joe had given me an oral orgasm. I had never had an oral orgasm before and it was absolutely amazing.
After this we made love, and it was as I always remembered it being, not as good as the oral orgasm I had just experienced. I remember secretly wishing that a vaginal orgasms could feel as good as that, although I knew they never had and never would.
We repeated this each day, looking forward to when the chastity until would come, enjoying it through the entire process, and dreaming about the next night as we slept.
Monday after work, Joe told me Mr. Smith had called. He said he told him we were already working the plan, and enjoying step 1. He said he told Mr. Smith we were both looking forward to making this program work 100% for our marriage.
Joe said, “He would like you to call him when the chastity arrives. He asked if I had any concerns regarding it. I told him I didn’t. He asked me if I was uncomfortable talking with him about details of our sexual activities. I told him no. Oh, he told me to call him sir. So I do. I said, ‘No sir, I don’t feel uncomfortable discussing any of this with you. I feel like I do when I’m talking about personal stuff with my doctor. He told me this is good.”
I asked if Mr. Smith said anything about what we should be doing now, and Joe said he only said we were doing good and to proceed as we are until the device arrives.
We did just that. The nightly sex was wonderful. I can’t believe I had almost forgotten how wonderful sex could be with my husband. It is actually better than it had ever been. And just between you and me, the oral sex was getting more amazing with each orgasm Joe drove me to.
(L. Smith note) Perfect candidate for program. Advanced to step 1. Husband’s porn preference appears to be random, with Asian leaning, probably due to wife being Filipina. Probably fantasizing about wife in sexually promiscuous situations. Both seem to be submissive.
<Joe’s input> I’m writing this as an afterthought but my recollection is that Mr. Smith seemed very polite and professional. The study appeared focused and on track for our families sexual health.
I did think it was odd at the time that Mr. Smith would call my wife by her first name and have her address him by his first name, while then insisting I address him as sir with him calling me by my first name. He did explain it, saying each person needed a psychological adjustment.
He said all the program wives needed to feel a comfortable friendship with the authority figure while also feeling we are competent at what we do.
The program husbands are more receptive to a military style of treatment. This is why we insist on being called sir while still calling them by their first names.
Mr. Smith explained, it is through these psychologically designed arrangements they are best able to achieve such good and quick results with the subject in the program.
I do feel like they are in control and doing a fantastic job with us.
Posted by Gofore 7 months ago Views: