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Chapter
1
"Oh, my God," I exclaimed,
"what are you doing?" It was perfectly obvious what Jason, my husband,
was doing. He was playing with himself!
I had just finished
the laundry and was putting the linens and towels away. I entered
the bathroom to put some fresh towels on the rack when I surprised
my husband as he was kneeling in front of the toilet manipulating
his organ.
I had suspected that
he was up to something all along as he would frequently lock himself
in the bathroom. I thought it odd that after being married several
years that he would still be squeamish about his bathroom habits.
Apparently, he forgot
to lock the door this time. He stopped and became very red in the
face when I came in.
I put the towels on
the vanity and left without saying another word.
Jason got out of the
bathroom and tried to explain, "Honey, I..."
I cut him off, "I don't
want to talk about it. I don't know what to think. You think you
were a teenager. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Get out of
my sight."
He disappeared into
the garage to tinker which is what he does whenever he's in the
doghouse. I yelled a departing shot at him, "And don't even think
about sex with me for at least a week!". I didn't care that it was
spring and the windows were open.
For the rest of the
week I didn't even let him touch me in bed. For the rest of the
week, he was more subdued and fawning over me attempting to win
himself into my good graces.
For the rest of the
week, I thought about a grown man playing with himself and it intrigued
me in a perverse sort of way. On the one hand, I was infuriated
that Jason would feel the need for additional sexual release. Was
I not woman enough for him? Yet, on the other hand, I really wanted
to watch him do it. Could I be the one driving him to it? I had
to know.
I had some books on
sex, and they talked a little about male masturbation, but they
went into the how rather than the why. I wanted to know so badly
why men would do these things. The books confirmed that they did,
indeed, do them.
I wouldn't think about
asking Jason, so, I confided in my next door neighbor, Debbie. She
and I had known one another since high school. During those days
we told each other everything, especially our relationships with
boys.
We still talked about
our relationships with men. She had confided in me that she had
given quite a number of "hand jobs" while in college and told me
about some of the things she did with her lovers. If any woman knew
about penis pumping, she did.
My guesses were correct.
After a very embarrassing introduction of the subject, I finally
explained what I caught Jason doing.
"Oh, Anne," she said,
"Don't worry about it. It's very common. Men do it all the time.
You don't know how lucky you are. Work with Jason on this. Both
of you will like it, and, if you do your stuff right, you can really
benefit out of it."
"What do you mean?"
I asked.
"Jason is your typical
oversexed male. He can't get enough sex and will seek release anywhere.
Once he gets it, he loses interest. I bet that once he gets it off
with you, he drops you like a hot potato."
"You got that right.
How do you know so much about Jason?"
"This isn't rocket science,
dear. I just described about 95% of the male population. They're
all just about the same. That's what makes it so easy."
"Makes what so easy?"
I asked.
"Female control! If
you can control his release, you can control him."
"Why would I want to
control him."
"It's worth a shot.
Think of it. No more housework, no more laundry, hour long back
rubs, guaranteed orgasms whenever you want them. Jason can do it
all for you."
"Whoa, girl!" I exclaimed.
"What makes you think that Jason will go along with this?"
"Most men think alike,
they have hidden guilt feelings about the control they have over
women in the business place and in other aspects of their lives.
They know they are in control `out there.' In the outside world
they have all kinds of support systems. The world is built according
to their rules, and so far, everybody has played the game their
way. Take them out of that familiar environment and put them one-one-one
where it really counts..." She trailed off turning the phrase into
a question.
We sat in silence for
a few moments as she let me digest what I just heard. "In bed, it's
different. Not every man is clear about his standing with women.Some
of them never resolve the sexual conflicts they faced as children.
When things get though, they try to retreat to their pasts when
things were much simpler. Some of them would like to make it all
the way back to the womb, but most of them enjoy getting back to
the stage of being totally dependant upon a woman -- mom."
She laughed, "Yeah,
I know, sounds a little too Freudian. Well, Freud wasn't all wrong.
He got this part right at least. Most men want moms to take care
of them. Mom provided love, but she also provided discipline. Some
men get them mixed up. Childhood was a time of bliss when no decisions
had to be made. You didn't even have to figure out right from wrong.
Mom did all that for you."
"That's another part
of it -- giving up responsibility. Men feel that they have to be
in control all of the time. Bullshit! They stand firm and won't
bend. Instead of bending, they break. They try to crawl back into
the womb. They surrender. They become dependent on you. The most
dominant men in the boardroom are often the most submissive men
in the bedroom. I know, I've had my share."
"Men also have an incredibly
strong attachment to their sex organs. I think it starts even before
puberty. Once they figure out that they have something girls don't
they flaunt it. It becomes a competition with them. Who can pee
the furthest? Who has the biggest one? Who can jerk off the fastest?
In a sense, men are their own worst enemy. All of them brag about
how great they are in bed. It's probably 99% bullshit, but they
swallow it. They have unrealistic expectations about what their
performance is supposed to be. They are uncertain in the bedroom.
Like most of the other things in their lives, men see sex as a competition.
They compete with other men and their women and, God forbid, even
your past lovers."
"Women get advice and
sympathy on sex and how to handle men from other women instead of
`I can do it better than you.' Women, in general, are more confident
in bed. Not only do men compete with each other in bed, they also
compete with women. For them, there must be a clear winner and a
clear loser. They can't see, as us women do, that sex should be
a cooperative effort. When a man and woman get in bed together,
she has the home court advantage. That's why confident women frighten
men so much. In the competitive mode, there is no half-way measure.
It's either the man dominates the woman, or she must dominate him."
"A man defines his sexuality
almost entirely in terms of his penis. As best I can figure out,
there's absolutely nothing like it in women. Control a man's penis,
and you control him. Considering the love they have for mom, the
love they have for their prick, and the guilt feelings they have
towards women in general, it's little wonder that some men wish
to do penance by servicing females sexually".
I couldn't believe what
I was hearing, "Do you really do this kinky stuff?"
Debbie continued, "Well,
first of all, it's not as kinky as you think. Besides, I normally
like well-balanced relationships with my men, but even the strongest
of them has a submissive side. For the men I really love -- those
how know how to respect me -- I respect that, and I only take advantage
of it for our mutual benefit."
"There are some men,
however, who deserve what they get. Sometimes I just want to get
back at the male sex in general. I remember what it's like growing
up as a girl. I was a good student, yet I was done out of an honors
physics class simply because I was a girl. In my senior year, the
girls' swim team went to the state championships. Yet the boy's
losing basketball team got more respect. Hell, even the cheerleaders
got better press than we did. Having some jock tell me `That's the
way it is.' didn't help."
"Even my own sister
sold out. She's the one who taught me what boys looked like and
how we could play with them when we were little girls. Now she's
married and has two children, Amanda and Greg. She's raising Amada
just like mom try to raise us -- to be a perfect little lady. On
the other hand Greg's trangressions are mostly dismissed with `Boys
will be boys." It's a mute testimony to what everyone considers
to be the natural order of things. Boys got away with murder, and
never had to take any responsibility for it. What's worse, is that
they don't even know they're getting away with it."
"It goes beyond revenge,
I have my lusty side as well. There are times when I want it, I
want it all, and I want it all my way. I become an insatiable bitch.,"
she laughed. "That's when I find a macho whimp and use him."
"Macho whimp?" I asked.
"Yeah, macho whimp.
Those who brag the most are normally the most insecure and also
the most immature. I use both of these weaknesses to bring them
under my control. I love the feeling of power. Lord knows I don't
see it a work. Hell, I don't even get it at the mall, at least not
in the electronics store or the automotive parts place."
"In private, I can exercise
extreme power. I don't get simple respect, I extract awe, reverence
and worship. First I drive them into lust, then I drive them into
dispair. I love being a goddess. You can have it all, too."
"I don't see how I get
from Jason playing with himself to playing slave for me, Debbie?"
"Take advantage of what
I just taught you, girl. Take advantage of his physical weakness,
and your mental superiority. Most of this game is played in the
head."
I looked at her quizzically.
"It's simple," she said,
"When's the last time you and Jason had sex?"
"About a week ago."
"And has he been playing
with himself since."
"I don't think so. He
seems doesn't seem to want to do anything to upset me."
"All the better. Don't
you think that he's getting a little horny by now?"
I laughed, "I imagine
so."
"Well, use it. Get that
pussy working for you."
She reminded me of previous
conversations, "You told me that Jason has never eaten you out.
That's still true, isn't it?"
"Yes..."
"Well, here's your chance.
Let me tell you what to do..."
I interrupted, "Wait!
I'm not sure I want to do this."
"OK, think about it.
I have some stuff I can give you."
Debbie went up to her
bedroom, and when she came down, she gave me some books on female
domination.
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