Johns Problem

John was mean to Betty. He thought that because he was her husband and supported her, he owned her body and her sexuality and could do whatever he wanted with it, whenever he wanted. Betty sometimes liked it but mostly not. John would demand sex from her. He never became violent, but Betty somehow felt compelled. John would rub his hard penis all over her soft body, and ejaculate in her mouth. He would also play with and explore her vulva in a way that made Betty feel objectified.

It could go on for hours. She would have to spread her legs, and John would just stare at her pussy and touch it in different ways for a long time. It had nothing to do with making her cum. It was about his being able to explore her womanhood. He would finger the outer lips and the inner lips of her pussy. He would touch her clitoris and play with it whether or not she was wet. What Betty hated most was when John put his fingers in her vagina. It made her feel so vulnerable. John enjoyed the feeling of being gross, of being rude, of objectifying his wife and her sexual, vulnerable vagina.

One day Betty couldn't take it anymore. John's penis was fucking her in the mouth. She had to lie there and open her mouth and throat for his cock, and he would rub and fuck her in the mouth. He was lying down over her in a 69 position, and so Betty was staring up at his scrotum. His balls moved up and down, towards and away from her face. Sometimes he would rest for a moment with his dick full into her mouth and the soft bag of his scrotum resting on her eyes. Betty felt totally filled with his penis and wanted him to stop, but he wouldn't. Her hands had been tied to the bedposts so she wouldn't try to control the speed of his thrusting. He would pause, and then start again.

Sometimes John fucked her mouth slowly and deeply until she could feel the tip of his penis approach her gag reflex. Sometimes he would fuck her hard and fast. Eventually he would cum, the thick white ejaculate filling her and immediately sliding down her throat into her gut. As he ejaculated in her mouth, he would also grab her cunt in a disgusting way, his fingers roughly taking hold of her whole pussy area like a gross molester. He would hold her cunt like that, squeezing lightly, feeling his sense of ownership of her female sexuality, as his penis shot the wet load into her other orifice. Betty would moan with degradation.

Today, during the moment of his orgasm, Betty remembered a small advertisement she had seen in the newspaper that morning. Perhaps it was because the way John grabbed her pussy made her feel so ashamed and vulnerable that it was just no longer tolerable. Or perhaps it was because she was staring up at his ball sack and picturing the white goo that was shooting out from those balls, along the length of his penis, and into her helpless mouth. For whatever reason, just as John's wet sexual ejaculate began to make its disgusting entry into her helpless open mouth, Betty thought about this advertisement clipping. "Husbands Tamed," the ad read in plain, black letters. "Men are vulnerable too. Let us show you."

There was nothing else but a phone number from an upstate area code and a feminine signature of the name Rachel Germane. Betty thought about this ad as John lay on top of her. This was actually the worst part for her, right after he had cum. Instead of getting up quickly and letting her clean herself up, John would often lie with his dick in her mouth or pussy for quite a while. He did so now, his flaccid penis still inside her mouth. This meant she was unable to get the cum out of her mouth or his balls off her face. Betty lay very still. She knew that if she moved too early or tried to get his penis out of her mouth before he was ready, he would play roughly with her pussy lips as punishment. Betty didn't want him to touch her anymore, but she just had to wait until he was done. After all, her arms were still tied to the bed in an outstretched position.

Finally John was done. He got up and went to take a shower without evening looking at her and without untying her. This often happened. Betty had to wait until he was done to get free. Her arms were tied too well for her to free them. And with her arms like that, she couldn't even reach the blankets to cover herself. She just lay there, naked, her body exposed, until he decided to allow her to be human again. Sometimes he would come and tease her cruelly for a while before letting her go. Normally Betty would hate that, but today she didn't care. She was still thinking about the advertisement and by this point she had resolved to call the number and see what they meant...

Husbands tamed? Men are vulnerable too? Betty felt the wet cum that was still all over her lips and in her mouth. She looked down at her breasts, the nipples exposed to the air, and felt so angry that she couldn't cover them. She looked down at her pussy and thought about how vulnerable it made her, or rather, how aggressive it made her husband. For the first time it occurred to her that maybe her pussy wasn't inherently vulnerable. It was John's aggression that made her feel vulnerable—but why would he be so aggressive if the pussy was naturally helpless? For the first time it occurred to her that John's aggression was a response to a secret feeling he might have that her pussy was actually very powerful.

John came back from the shower looking clean and happy. He finally looked Betty in the face, but just for a moment, and then his eyes wandered down over her naked body, drinking in the sight, as if her were eating her exposure and nakedness. He stopped to stare at her breasts. Then he came over and knelt across her tummy. "Do you want to be free?" he asked her, teasingly. Betty knew these were just his games continuing, but she had to play along in order to satisfy him so that he would leave her alone. She nodded and mumbled: Yes. "Do you feel vulnerable?" he asked her. Yes, she said again. "You have nice boobs," he said. Betty didn't reply.

Suddenly John reached out and grabbed her breasts, rubbing them, touching them, moving them around a bit, pulling on them not enough to hurt but just enough to make her feel molested. He tugged her nipples towards him and smiled a cruel smile. Betty moaned with helplessness. Finally John was done. He untied her hands and gave her a kiss on the forehead, as if the game had been good for both of them instead of just him. Betty waited until he was gone and then dressed. John left the house to go meet some male friends of his, a small group that watched football and played poker together every Sunday night.

Betty took the newspaper clipping from where she had hidden it and made the call. She was very surprised when a woman's voice answered. It was 8pm on a Sunday evening! What kind of business was this? The woman's voice was soft and soothing, like an administrator of some kind, but also rich and creamy with power. She asked Betty to explain her situation, and Betty found herself opening up tremendously. There was something about this woman, the way she listened, that made Betty trust her immensely. The woman, who had introduced herself as Rachel Germane, did not seem to be surprised by anything Betty said. Betty had been so ashamed about the way John treated her, but this woman listened with total sympathy and no judgment.

Ms. Germane asked for a lot of details: Did John use her anally as well, or only orally and vaginally? Did he ever molest her lips and tongue with his fingers the way he molested her pussy? Did he ejaculate in her cunt without a condom and what form of birth control did they use? Was John's body hair shaved anywhere? Was Betty's? The woman also asked Betty to estimate the size of John's cock, both when soft and when hard—and, even more surprisingly, the size of his balls and ball sack. She also asked Betty to describe her own body: the size of her breasts, the color and quality of her unshaved pubic hair. The conversation lasted about two hours. Towards the end, Rachel said that she would be glad to help Betty turn the tables on John by putting him through a length experience of humiliation and degradation. It would take about two months, and the cost would be several thousand dollars. But by the end, John would be Betty's slave and would never degrade a woman again. Betty agreed, and gave Rachel a credit card number.

John came home shortly thereafter. He had his friends had been watching porn together, and he had managed to get horny again even though he had just fucked Betty a few hours before. So Betty found herself tied up again, this time in a standing position, while John stripped her clothes off and molested her breasts and pussy, ultimately shooting his load into her vagina and leaving her to drip his cum down her legs for about twenty minutes while he had another shower. Then they went to their separate bedrooms. John fell asleep right away, feeling powerful and safe from the sexual domination he had just enacted on his wife. Betty lay awake wondering what was going to happen and what she had set in motion by giving this Rachel Germane lady her credit card number and the go-ahead. She had been told to expect a package in the mail.

***

The package arrived on Thursday. It was a small brown box. John was always at work during the day, so Betty had the house to herself and was never worried about having the mail intercepted. Betty opened the box and found what looked like a child's toy or one of those small but sophisticated puzzle tricks. There was a small plastic bag with a steel ring inside, just an inch or two in diameter, and a little instructions manual. The instructions were printed in several languages and were very short. They read as follows:

1. Say the code word sequence (see reverse) to open the lock-ring. 2. Hide the lock-ring near the bedroom or bathroom. 3. Find a moment to secretly slip the lock-ring onto his scrotum. 4. Say the activation word "scrotum" to activate. 5. Call your Female Dominance provider.

Betty took the ring out of the plastic bag and examined it. There were thin blue lines running through the blue steel and flecks of gold and red. Perhaps these were for decoration, but Betty rather thought that they had some kind of function and that the ring was more than it had first appeared to be. After all, if it could respond to code words then it must be equipped with some kind of microscopic microphone and who knows what else. Ms. Germane had said something about "nanotechnology" on the phone, but Betty wasn't even sure what that was.

Betty threw out the small plastic bag, recycled the cardboard box, hid the instructions after memorizing the code words, and sat down on the couch fingering the small object. It was heavy and smooth. The code words had been printed on a little sticker on the back of the manual—like the combination numbers for a combination lock. They were four totally random words: "Grocery Stone Quadrant Orange." Betty finally got the courage to say the words, and the lock smoothly clicked open, hinging at some invisible hinge. She closed it again, just to feel safe, and found that it could not be reopened unless she once again said the code words in order. The ring functioned just like a combination lock, but was voice-activated.

Now Betty had to figure out how to get this ring onto John's scrotum. She had never thought much about his scrotum before, except when it was on her face or when she was forced to lick his balls. Now that she thought about it, it seemed very strange to her that he had this dangling sack between his legs all the time. Wherever he went, throughout the day, his scrotum would be hanging there between his legs. Betty smiled a little at the thought and began to understand what Ms. Germane's advertisement had meant about men being vulnerable too. But how was she to get this ring around his balls?

First Betty imagined sneaking up on him when he was peeing, but she imagined that it might be hard to reach under and locate his balls quickly enough and close the ring around the top of his bag. It had to be done in one move or else he would defend himself and then all would be lost. Another idea was to offer to suck his cock and hope that he would leave her hands untied and free. This would be the best way to do it because she would be able to touch and pull on his scrotum as part of the blowjob, and he would be in a lot of sexual pleasure, and it would be the perfect opportunity to slip the ring on above the testicles. But when was the last time Betty had given John a blowjob without having her hands tied? That had happened in the old days, but in recent times John loved fucking her mouth at his own rhythm, without her guidance or control. He didn't want her to suck and fondle his genitals, he wanted to force them into her openings. So that wouldn't work either.

Betty settled on a third plan: She would do it secretly while he was asleep. Sometimes John had snuck into her room and tied her wrists to the bed while she was sleeping. He would connect the ropes with a lot of slack so that she didn't wake up, and then suddenly pull them taut, spreading both arms towards the bedposts in a single move and tying the ropes off quickly at the foot of the bed. This was a terrifying way to wake up for Betty. All of a sudden, her arms moving apart against her will, unable to do anything, and then the blankets pulled off, and John suddenly on top of her, his hard penis wildly forcing its way into her unready vagina, his big hands rudely grabbing her tits and forcing her to be sexual in the middle of the night.

Betty thought about how he was able to sneak in like that because of the thick carpeting in their bedrooms. She guessed that she could do the same for him! Betty went to bed early that night, but set the alarm for 3am. She fell asleep thinking about John's balls and how they hung and jiggled vulnerably from his male body. Everywhere he went, he had to keep track of this silly little pouch of vulnerability. In the bathroom, at work, in bed. She could pounce on him anywhere. As she fell asleep, Betty smiled for the first time in a while.

At three in the morning she woke up, took the ring, and tiptoed silently into John's bedroom. She knew that he slept naked. Slowly, very slowly, over about ten minutes, she managed to maneuver his down comforter so that the bottom half of his body was exposed. He legs lay partly open, and between them spilled out his male sex, soft and vulnerable. Betty stared at it. She had never seen it looking so innocent before. His little penis and soft, tender scrotum. Now this was the tricky part. She knew his balls would be sensitive. Lucky for her, she had heard him come in that night and he sounded drunk. Too drunk to fuck her, anyway. Perhaps that would help keep him asleep...

Well, there was nothing for it: she had to try. Betty reached out and moved as slowly and as stealthily as she possibly could. She lifted up his balls and worked the open metal ring around them. He began to stir. Betty closed the ring around the top of his scrotum, making sure both balls were below its closed circumference. It fit him perfectly. It had been hard to get on, but even Betty could see that there was no way for his balls to get up past the closed ring. How marvelous! And to think that she had never considered the unique vulnerability of the male anatomy before!

John woke up as the ring closed around his balls, and was immediately disoriented and angry. And hung-over. He yanked off the blankets and stared at Betty, trying to figure out what was going on. Then he felt something around his balls. He reached down and found that there was a metal ring locked around his scrotum above the testicles. "What the fuck?" he yelled, and began to shout other obscenities as he tried to pull the ring off his sex. It was clearly impossible. The ring was just too small for his testicles to pass through. There was nothing he could do. He turned to Betty in a rage and began to approach her.

Betty was fully dressed and John was naked, but even so she felt afraid. What if he raped her right now, or even worse? What kind of terrible punishment would he mete out? She thought of Ms. Germane and the fact that she was supposed to call her, but how could she do that if she were tied up? All her thoughts were jumbled. John was on top of her, angry and confused. He was swearing at her and calling her a bitch. He grabbed her breasts through her shirt and yelled, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He thought she had merely wanted to lock a ring around his balls. Betty herself had temporarily forgotten, in a panic, that she was supposed to 'activate' the ring. John ripped open her shirt and yanked her bra up so that her breasts flopped out towards him. "You think you can put rings on me and shit?" he demanded, grabbing her nipples, one in each hand, and pulling them towards him. Betty moaned, her feelings of power totally evaporated. John grabbed at her cunt and then forced her head towards his dick, which was now hard with anger. "Suck it, bitch. If you make me cum quickly I won't punish you, and we can have this thing removed in the morning."

Betty's face was pushed down towards his raging penis. The tip of it was pushing against her lips. The she saw the ring locked around his scrotum, and saw the little designs in it—nanotechnology?—and remembered about the activation. She yelled the word 'scrotum' at the ring.

There was a tiny buzzing sound and suddenly John pulled away from her with a look of fear in his eyes. He was having the most uncomfortable feeling of helplessness and vulnerability. He stared at Betty and felt as if his balls were incredibly heavy. He backed away from her. His balls were so sensitive suddenly that he could not stand anything touching them, not even his own thighs, so he had to stand with his legs apart. He stood and leaned against the wall and stared down and his balls. They looked the same as before, and the ring looked the same as before, but John was full of the most terrible feelings of sexual vulnerability.

Suddenly John couldn't stand the thought of having balls. He couldn't stand the idea of covering them because they were so sensitive. He could not allow fabric to touch them. But he also felt deeply humiliated that Betty was sitting against the wall staring at his balls as they dangled out in the open. He couldn't hide his scrotum but he was ashamed to let it be seen! Betty was staring at John, at his strange helplessness, and the ways his balls rocked back and forth. It was as if he were trying to let them fall off, but of course they did not, they stayed attached, and John felt humiliated.

Betty went downstairs and called the number. Even though it was half past three in the morning, Ms. Germane answered in a cheerful but serious voice. Betty explained that she had locked and activated the device and that John appeared helpless. "I don't understand what he's feeling," Betty said. "It seems like his balls are not hurting, but just extremely sensitive."

Ms. Germane replied: "Of course you don't understand the feeling! You don't have balls! You're a woman! In any case, don't worry about it. We'll be over in about an hour to pick him up. We'll take him away for a couple of days and then you can see him again. You'll need to call him in sick for work tomorrow." Betty thanked her. Before getting off the phone, Ms. Germane added with a laugh: "Oh, and if he gives you any trouble before we get there, just say the word 'scrotum' again."

Betty smiled and went back upstairs to wait. John was still leaning against the wall, but it seemed as though the sensitivity in his balls had lessened. He was able to touch his scrotum again without feeling overwhelmed, and he had begun to try to maneuver the ring off his sack. When Betty came in, John was trying unsuccessfully to get one of his testicles through the loop. He looked up at her with fury and swore. "What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded. "Who did you just call?