Cuck Therapy Pt 06

"I can't do this."

I was in Brunder's lake office.

I had woken very early from a fitful sleep, tormented by erotic dreams in which various men, some known to me and some not, touched Lisa sexually in my presence. In my dream, we were just going through our typical Saturday routine. A man fucked her on the grass in front of the bench on which I sat in the little park we like to sit in and have coffee. I watched, my coffee cooling in my hands. She had spilled hers.

I had left Lisa a note that I had gone for a walk and left it on the night stand beside her. It had still been dark as I found my way to the building Brunder used for her office and residence while at the lake. No lights were on when I arrived, and I intended just sit and think while I waited, taking in the view of the lake and the grounds. A light had come on and the door opened. The little mousy assistant from the barbeque eyed me and then asked me if I'd like to wait in her office. She made coffee in the adjoining kitchenette and brought me a cup.

Brunder had entered after 15 or 20 minutes of waiting, and displayed no signs of irritation at having her sleep interrupted.

"I can't," I repeated. "I can't do it."

Brunder put her coffee on her desk, and leaned forward on her arms, her eyes on me.

"Yes, you can, John. You'll be fine. I'll be here anytime you need me. I'll help you get through this."

I stared at her.

"Yes, I can

what

? You'll help me get through

what

?"

Brunder leaned back, and took a sip of coffee as she regarded me.

"John, you came in here to tell me you can't do it, but now you're going to sit there and pretend that you don't know what we're talking about?"

"I want to know that we're both talking about the same thing."

Brunder studied me a moment.

"We're talking about the same thing," she said.

She took another sip of coffee, watching me.

"Breathe, John. Recognize your feelings of anxiety and - "

"You said the outcome could be as mild as some role-playing supplemented by pornography," I said, interrupting her.

She wiped some sleep from her eyes. Her hair was in a rough ponytail. In the back of my mind, I couldn't help but wonder what her bedroom looked like. Did she sleep alone? Or with a man? What kind of man did Brunder take as a lover? Did she dominate him in bed? Or show a tender side she mostly hid from her patients? Maybe she enjoyed letting herself play a submissive role in bed and

be

dominated after being the one in control all day.

She put her coffee down.

"That was the outcome of a case that was similar to yours in some respects, but not all."

"Then make that happen here. You need to make clear to Lisa that that is our direction. She's.... I think she has other ideas."

"Tell me everything that happened after you left here," Brunder said.

I told her everything that happened at the barbeque, and what Lisa and I said and did in bed as we watched the stroke film that Barbaroja and his wife had made. About Lisa begging my permission to let Lewis into our bed.

Brunder thought for a while, sipping her coffee and looking off thoughtfully.

Maybe Brunder preferred women? I toyed with the idea while I waited for her to speak. No, I decided. Not women. Or not primarily - maybe occasionally. But, no, Brunder was primarily hetero. She liked men. And she wouldn't be dominated, but she'd need men who could keep up.

Her eyes returned to me. Could she see my thoughts?

"John... You know, half of what I do is to tell people what they already know. You say you want the 'mild' outcome. Have you envisioned your future life with Lisa under that scenario? Do you foresee any problems with it?"

"You can help us achieve it."

"What problems do you see with that scenario?"

She watched me. I struggled to answer.

"She doesn't have to... She can accept that... " I stopped and tried again. "She'll listen to you. If you tell her that's the way it has to be."

"I'm not her boss, John. It's not my job to give orders to people about how to live their lives. I diagnose what possible strategies people can use, given the circumstances of their psychology, their history, their relationships, to find a way to the most satisfactory and healthy outcomes. It would be irresponsible of me, it would even be a violation of ethics, to tell them to do things they cannot do, to set them up for failure."

"You don't know she'd... fail."

"John," she said sternly. "Look at it. You need to face it.

You

know she'd fail. No matter how hard she tried. Eventually, she would slip. I'm not going to put her in a position to feel shameful about doing something she can't help doing."

"People do it," I protested. "There's no reason she can't. Lot's of people manage."

"Fewer than you'd think, John. And she's already promised to and failed. Isn't that how you both understood the commitment you made when you got married? You swore to be faithful to each other and she failed to live up to that."

"Once."

"It was a lot more than once, John."

"I mean, just one... lover. She slipped up, yeah, that doesn't mean she can't resolve to never do it again and stick to that. I mean, if she loves me, she can do it. She has free will, she can make her own fucking choices. If I'm not enough, than what the fuck are we doing? Should I just divorce her?"

"Okay. That's a lot you said there. Let's start at the end. Should you just divorce her? Obviously that's an option. But you have put a lot of work, and even suffering, into avoiding that, into saving your marriage. You love her. You know she loves you. So you're trying to find a way to make it work. I suggest you see this through to the end and see if our current path will lead you to a place that you both can live with. I think it will. I know it will, if you will stay committed and invested in it, and the therapy. You can both come out of this with an

uncommonly

happy marriage, John. That's my promise to you.

"Now, you talk about free will, and about how she can just make certain choices. I won't get into a philosophical debate about free will, beyond saying that it is by no means certain or agreed that free will is not just an illusion. But what you said reminds me of how people sometimes talk about people with addictions. Why don't they just make better decisions? Why don't they stop being irresponsible and hurting the people they love and just stop? If the addict really loved their loved ones, wouldn't they stop? It's not that simple, John."

"You think she's... addicted?"

"No, that's not my diagnosis - I'm just saying that it's a very useful analogy, John. But people do develop sex addictions. And one of things about sex addictions that sets it apart from other addictions, like alcohol or drugs or smoking, is that sex is not something you can or should just stop entirely. It's like eating - it's something that healthy people do regularly. So, that makes it more difficult to find the right path. And it is even quite different from food addiction in that you can do it a lot with no adverse health effects as long as you do it safely."

"Fine," I said. "Let's treat it like an addiction then. She can recover."

"Addiction is a mental illness, John. She doesn't have a mental illness and it would be flat-out malpractice for me to treat her as if she did. And, even if I did, recovering addicts almost always have relapses - several of them. A 'relapse' of that sort would cause a lot of damage to your relationship, maybe even end it, if we don't do the work to prepare

you

for that. It's one thing for someone with a food addiction to slip up and relapse once in a while. Imagine a 'relapse' with Lisa - if, in a month, or a year, you catch Lisa cheating again. How are you going to react?"

I tensed. My heart began beating hard.

Brunder nodded.

"Exactly. That's what we're dealing with, John." She leaned forward. "Recall how easy it was for Mark to pick her up, John. He basically just communicated that he was sexually available to her, and then half an hour later he was fucking her in the back of his car in an underground parking lot."

Ouch. Fuck.

"John, when someone who is actually adept at seduction tempts her, what do you suppose is going to happen?"

"So it's impossible to stop her from cheating again?"

"No. That's not what I'm saying. This is precisely what we are working on, John. Under the initial rules of your marriage contract with Lisa, she was set up to fail. You didn't know it, she didn't know it, but now we know it. We need to accommodate Lisa's needs so that she is no longer set up for failure. That means renegotiating what the rules are, renegotiating the contract."

I put my coffee on the table beside me and leaned forward, my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands, overwhelmed.

"Count ten breaths in your head, John, taking them slowly. Focus on your breathing. And then count back from ten. Now recognize that feeling of anxiety. Accept it as something external to you. Do you feel it fading?"

After a moment, I leaned back again.

"Just, fucking, spell it out," I said.

Brunder studied me a moment.

"You know the main thing. You're going to have to let her take lovers."

I sighed.

"Why? If I'm not enough for her, I can... I mean, I get her off, I know I do. She doesn't fake her orgasms with me. What does she need that...."

"John, this is the other point that you brought up that we need to address. Almost all men have anxiety about 'not being enough' sexually. The cultural narrative about masculine sexuality gets deeply internalized in men's psyche, in their superegos. It's just a narrative, a story. You don't have to be enough. Let go of that demand. Rebel against the false authority of it.

"Let's do a thought experiment. Imagine that all your life, you had a certain type of orgasm that you thought was the only kind. Lisa gave you those. You achieved them through masturbation also. One day, in a weak moment, you engage sexually with another woman. You discover that this woman, through some accident of biology, was capable of giving you an orgasm that was many times more powerful and satisfying than the sort that Lisa could give you or that you could give yourself. Imagine that for the first time in your life, you

ejaculated

in response to this woman's body. You had never ejaculated before. This woman, this

type

of woman, is capable of making your body do things that Lisa cannot, no matter how hard she tries. Do you think less of Lisa? No. It's not her fault. She loves you, and she does everything she can to please you."

She let it sink in before continuing.

"Lisa finds out and is heartbroken, and you resolve to never stray again. But here's the thing. You have come to understand that Lisa actually gets off on the idea of you having been with this woman. Your sex with Lisa is better than ever when you come home to her after having been with this other woman, when Lisa knows it. But she still insists that you never do it again, and never again have that sort of intensely powerful and satisfying orgasm that only certain other women can give you. Even though you know Lisa actually fantasizes about you doing it again when she masturbates, and that it would turn both of you on for you to do it and have Lisa watch. Except, her anxiety prevents her. Would you not come, eventually, to resent it? To resent that you both could be having much more erotic, satisfying sex, if only she could get over her hang-ups and stop worrying about what it meant for her as a woman? Would this be a sustainable relationship, do you think, John?"

I was silent, focusing on my breathing.

"You asked me, 'What does she need?' You say that you bring her to orgasm. Women are far more complicated than men, John, sexually. A man's orgasm is very simple and easily achieved and there is only one kind. With women, they vary. From everything I've learned about your sexual relationship with Lisa, you are very adept at giving her clitoral orgasms through oral stimulation. But women are also capable of being given what are called vaginal orgasms. These orgasms, when they happen, seem to come from a much deeper place in the body, and are usually many times more powerful than clitoral orgasms, and equally more satisfying. Like I say, women vary, they're different, but it's often the case. From all the evidence I have seen, this is the case with Lisa."

From all the evidence I have seen....

The videos.

Brunder eyes were on me, gauging my attention.

"John, this type of orgasm requires a certain amount of pressure to be applied within the vagina, which requires some... girth, on the part of her sexual partner. And a certain amount of... reach."

I focused on my breathing again. I felt my cock begin to swell.

"You follow, John?"

She waited for me.

"I can give her... I can apply that kind of pressure and... reach... with... toys."

Brunder nodded.

"That's, in part, why I provided them to you. I wanted to see if it could help. I wasn't overly optimistic - it's not the same thing. I know you've tried, John, and it's not your fault. But, John, you have an audio recording of Lisa achieving that kind of orgasm with Mark. Have you been able to replicate it? Or approximate it?"

I recalled the sounds Lisa had made on that recording, and the size of the cock that she had inside her when she made them. I felt my cock harden further.

Brunder watched me.

"So, we're just sexually incompatible?"

"Not at all. Quite the opposite. You are extremely compatible sexually. Look, people use toys and pornography to suppliment and enhance sex, John, and it's not shameful. There are many other ways to suppliment and enhance sex that are no more shameful than that."

She gave me a moment.

"That's all this is, John. It's just an accomodation to be used in order to achieve the sort of sexual satisfaction that you both want and are capable of having. I said that you two were extremely compatible sexually. I mean that. Because the accommodation that you two require is, in itself, sexually exciting to both of you."

We were silent a while.

"I know it can be hard to get there. To make it happen the first time. It's hard to imagine it happening for real, and it excites not only your libido, but also intense anxiety. It might help for you to understand that it is nothing to be afraid of if you had the opportunity to see it happen with another couple who are happy and stable."

"I

have

seen it happen. That's why you put us in that house with Jeff and Karlee, isn't it?"

"I knew you'd get along. But you haven't

seen

it happen yet."

"Well, I mean, obviously I haven't actually

seen

them do it, but..."

"Do you want to?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

I stared at her.

"Dr. Brunder, I've seen lots of videos of - "

"Not video. There is a lot of psychological distance between the viewer and the subject in visual media. What I mean is, would you like to be in the room with them, and Lisa, and watch Karlee have sex with a lover in the presence of her husband?"

I stared at her again, dumbfounded.

"I've spoken with them about the possibility. They would be happy to."

"Jesus."

"You and Lisa would just be passive observers. You wouldn't be participating."

"Christ."

"I think it would be very useful. It would help you to understand and internalize that this is a healthy, and safe way of conducting a sexual relationship."

I tried to imagine it. Seeing Karlee naked, watching her get fucked. I wasn't averse.

"Look John, we've made a lot of progress this morning. Let's keep the momentum. Talk to Lisa about it. She'll be willing, I am confident. Jeff and Karlee are just waiting for you to say the word. Do it today, okay? This morning. Before Lisa's date. Don't put it off. This is important."

Lisa's date.

Karlee with her fit, shapely body. I recalled the sounds coming from their room last night, the three of them in there.

Caught between these thoughts, I was fully hard.

"Okay?"

I nodded.

"Use this as an opportunity to break through your anxiety in order to ready yourself for the next step. You understand? Let this add to the momentum. Okay?"

I nodded.

___________

I let myself into the house quietly so as not to wake anyone. It was still early - the first rays of the sun were just emerging. Easing my shoes off, I heard a quiet voice speaking. I looked around the corner to see Karlee on the phone. There was no service here, and our phones had been taken to protect everyone's privacy. Karlee was on a landline, facing the kitchen window.

"Yes, absolutely," she said softly into the phone. "No, Dr. Brunder, you know how grateful I am to you. We both are. It's been...."

Karlee stopped suddenly. I realised she could see my reflection in the window.

She turned. She smiled at me and gave me a little wave.

"Yes, John's just arrived home.... Okay.... Yes, okay, bye."

She hung up and leaned back against the counter, silhouetted by the light of the window.

"Hi John," she said.

Movement could be heard upstairs. I was still forming my words when Matt emerged from the stairs. He went to Karlee and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Did you make coffee? No? Fuck. Why are the lights off?"

The lights came on and Karlee and I winced.

"I gotta run," Matt went on. "Meeting some guys at the driving range."

"Hold on," Karlee said, picking some sleep from her eye as she followed Matt toward the door. "I'll see you out."

She touched my arm as she passed me.

"I'll be back in a minute," she said to me.

________________

By the time Karlee came back in, Lisa was up, making coffee. I wondered how to broach the subject of what Dr. Brunder had proposed. I didn't find the right moment, and in the meantime, the girls had decided we should go to the beach.

Lisa and Karlee were both wearing only their skimpy bikinis, shades, sandals and sunhats. It was my first good view of Karlee's ass, and it was wonderful. I couldn't stop sneaking peeks at it, trying to imagine Matt riding it while Jeff watched. Jeff and I had on swimming trunks and T-shirts. I carried the beach blanket and towels. Jeff carried a couple of bags. Beers, sunscreen and so on.

We were walking through a shady thicket on a path leading towards the lake.

"So," Jeff was saying, "You guys must think we're some kind of sexual degenerates or something..."

"And you'd be right," Karlee quipped, laughing, and putting an arm around Jeff.

"No," Lisa said, "Not at all. You mean about... No. I mean, actually, John and I...."

"Lisa," I cautioned her.

"John, it's okay. We're friends. If we can't talk about this stuff with Jeff and Karlee, I mean, who can we talk to? We need to be able to share this stuff with someone other than Dr. Brunder."

I was silent.

"If we're sharing, I'll go first," Jeff said. "I think I have an idea of where you two are coming from. I told you guys that Karlee and I fought a lot at first. I didn't tell you why, exactly. When I met her at the club that first time, I was in love immediately. And I was surprised that she seemed interested too. We became lovers, but... it was clear that Karlee wasn't moving particularly quickly toward the monogamous phase I expected out of serious relationships."

"I was fucking around like a bandit," Karlee explained.

"I couldn't seem to reign her in. If I tried, she would be, like, 'What? We're not fucking married, dude. Chill.' And so, I thought, well, if that's what it takes, then that's what I'll do, you know? I'll put a ring on it. When I proposed to her, she seemed excited, but wouldn't commit to an answer right away. She thought it about it for days. Finally, she was like, 'Jeff, I love you, but I can't do it. I just can't imagine a future where I am restricted to one man for the rest of my life and happy with it. It's just not how I'm made.' It fucking slayed me. So, marriage was out. I was trying to decide whether or not to break it off with her, because it didn't seem like it could go anywhere. But the thought of it, of life without her, seemed worse than the thought of spending the rest of my life with her, and, you know... just letting her misbehave a little. So I proposed again, and told her that I would accept whatever her terms were for how we lived as a couple."