Denial Ch. 04
by Conquered ©

There was a tension in the house for the next few days, and I continued to sleep in the basement. The second day, while I was out on a business appointment, Maxine, who was home on summer vacation, moved a small TV set, and some of my toiletries and clothing down to the basement. When I came home, and noticed this, I went up to the kitchen to confront her about it. She was talking to someone, and laughing conspiratorially.

"Who's that?" I asked.

Maxine covered the mouthpiece and glared at me. "A friend. What do you want?"

"What's with the TV and clothes in the basement?"

Maxine said into the phone, "I'll call you back. Are you at the club . . . OK, bye."

Who was she talking to, and at what "club?"

"I really need some time alone to think, until we see the therapist later this week. Is it really so terrible down there for another few nights." She touched my hand. The first sign of affection in two days.

I shrugged. The day after our argument, she told me that she had gotten the name of a good counselor who would see us both and try to help us with our problem. I asked about credentials and degrees, but Maxine didn't know.

That evening, we had dinner, and after I did the dishes, Maxine went upstairs to change. When she came down, she was wearing my favorite negligee, and perfume. She kissed me goodnight and started upstairs. "Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow."

I stayed in the downstairs living room for a while, and then went down to the basement to try to sleep. This was the most frustrated I had ever been, knowing that Maxine was upstairs looking so enticing, and I was two floors away.

The next morning was our appointment with the therapist, Dr. Gruen, who was a 20-minute drive across town. Maxine and I practically said nothing during the whole trip.

Dr. Gruen's office was a large apartment, with a study set aside as an office. We rang the bell, and a woman answered. I told her we were there to see Dr. Gruen, and she said, "I'm Dr. Gruen." She was about 60, tall very thin. She had piercing blue eyes, and her white hair was pulled back handsomely.

We came in to sit down, had coffee, and made small talk for a few minutes. Then she asked each of us to just tell her why we were there. She asked that Maxine start, and she did.

From Maxine's prospective, she admitted that for years, she had had trouble responding to me sexually, and that she avoided it whenever possible. She told of our shift to s&m and the eventual adding of my cock cage as a way to restrict my masturbation, and give her a sense of control. But she slanted the version of what had happened in the last few weeks. She said that I was being paranoid about "our" new friends. Maxine said that I wasn't responding to conventional sex anymore, while her appetite was increasing, and that she needed much more than I was providing. She said that I seemed to only respond to "certain scents" during the sex act now. Dr. Gruen glanced to me for a moment, then just listened patiently.

I then told Dr. Gruen my side of it. At intervals during my story, she turned to Maxine and shook her head.

"And what do you think Maxine's motives are for getting together with this Richie and his friends."

I looked at Maxine and said to the doctor, "I don't know. But I've already caught her making love"

Dr. Gruen looked at Maxine reproachingly. Maxine stared at me hurt.

"And what are these smells that you find so appealing," Dr. Gruen asked me.

I stammered for a moment, and then explained. "If I can say, it's the smells from Maxine's, uh, her . . . "

"Vagina?" asked Dr. Gruen, patiently.

I glanced at Maxine, who had a challenging look on her face. I continued to stammer.

"Her anus?" Dr. Gruen prompted, and I shook my head. "How did this come about."

I then explained how this was the only accompaniment to sexual relief which Maxine has allowed me for the last year.

"So, Maxine, you have cultivated your husband's fixation." Maxine just stared at Dr. Gruen.

Dr. Gruen sat back and clasped her hands. "Maxine, your husband certainly has a lot of pain, which must be addressed if your relationship is to survive. I'm very surprised at the way in which you've responded to his needs. You have a very special husband, and he should be treated as such. I think you will need separate counseling, and then later, you both should join a therapy group with other couples who have similar problems."

Maxine was being reproached, but on what basis, I couldn't figure out.

"And you," she now turned to me. "Your wife needs as much help as you. I'll be assigning Maxine some special sensitivity exercises for you both to do. One per evening. She and I will talk about them now, alone."

She asked Maxine to stay for a separate session to discuss some of the exercises. Maxine asked me to pick her up in an hour.

When I returned, Maxine was sitting in the doctor's office, laughing and both were having a smoke. Dr. Gruen wanted to see me for a few minutes alone, so Maxine left.

"Many of the sensitivity exercises I have given Maxine to do, are sexual and involve some discipline. Please be patient with her, but you must record your real response to these exercises in this journal. It will help in her treatment. Bring the journal with you next time. Your answers must be stream of consciousness, and portray your real feelings. Don't worry about their content. It's the honesty that I'm looking for between you and your wife. As you work in the house, you each need some time apart. Perhaps your wife can get a job for the summer." She held my hand for a moment. "And above all, try to relax. We'll try and solve the problem, so you can have a more stable marriage."

As Dr. Gruen was walking me to her door, she stopped. "Oh, and that cock cage? I recommend that it stay on for this first round of exercises. Eventually, we will have Maxine take it off you and throw it away. But for now, it's her progress which I'm concerned about, and she'll feel more secure with it on you, so let's keep it on for a while longer, okay?"

All of my fears were set aside. This was a woman doctor who also saw that Maxine needed to change. Dr. Gruen was not going to gang up with my wife on me, which I was afraid of. She recognized that the problem was Maxine's and that she would have to give her most of the attention.

The first night, Maxine came down to the basement in her negligee, and said that she wanted me to sleep in our room again. I said yes, and she said Dr. Gruen's first exercise required that I had to beg her to do so, to show her that I really wanted to.

In the name of going along with Maxine's treatment, I started to beg.

"On your knees," Maxine interrupted me.

I got on my knees. "The exercise is that you're not to look at me, but you're to put my big toe into your mouth right after you beg me." she said very matter of factly, and slipped out of her high-heeled mule. She stared down at me coldly.

I begged her, and she just pointed to her toe. I lowered myself down on the ground, opened my mouth wide and she placed her big toe into my mouth. "Keep it there," Maxine said softly. She moved the toe more deeply into my mouth, and kept it there for a minute or so. She then slowly took it out, and told me I had permission to sleep in the bedroom. We slept holding each other that night. It was Friday.

My feelings were complex. I imagine that Dr. Gruen was giving Maxine an opportunity to get much of the negative feelings out of her system. To cleanse herself, as such. As Dr. Gruen said, I would have to be patient, and understand that it was all being done in the interest of achieving a balance in our marriage. I played along with Maxine, prepared myself for a rough week, and for the rest of the week, would put my impressions down in the journal. I wondered what Maxine's impressions of these incidents would be.

The next night, Saturday, when I finished the dishes and went into our bedroom, my bag of s&m toys was on the bed. Maxine was sitting at the edge of the bed, with her legs crossed, dressed in my favorite neglegee again. "Come here," Maxine said to me when I entered the room, and crooked her finger at me. I went to her, and she motioned for me to turn around. When I did, she pulled my hands behind me, and with wrist cuffs she had taken from the bag, she bound my hands. She then turned me around facing her again.

She had me kneel beside the bed. She reached for and untangled the nipple clamps from the pile of toys. She opened them wide, and began putting them on me, tightening them to the next to last notch, and gave a sharp tug to see that they wouldn't come off. She then pulled me up onto my feet and over her onto my side of the bed, easing me down onto my side. Facing away from her, I felt her shift and heard her negligee open to expose her breasts, and this was confirmed when she cuddled closely to me.

Her breasts and hot breathe drove me wild. She began to softly explain. "This is how the exercise says we should sleep tonight. Dr. Gruen says that I should get in touch with our anger, and learn how to respond appropriately. In this "Question Sensitivity Exercise," everytime you 'push one of my buttons,' and make me angry, I have to yank on the clamps. The angrier you make me, the harder I yank. If you've really gone too far, the exercise says I can close them to their tightest to let you know. It also says we should talk about topics which especially disturb us, with no other distractions, and that to avoid misunderstandings, we should use a tape recorder."

Maxine turned out the lights, flipped on the tape recorder she had placed on my night table, and we sat for a moment. The only sound in the room was the slight whir of the tape recorder, our breathing, and the occasional rattle of the clamp's metal chain as one of us shifted in the bed. The whole situation was also stimulating me beneath my cock cage, as Maxine was massaging my back with her breasts. All of the questions would be Maxine's, she said, as Dr. Gruen was trying to center on her response. "Don't worry, honey. Tomorrow night's exercise deals with YOUR questions. Ready?" Maxine asked, snuggling closer.

"Yes." I answered.

"Okay. And you have to be truthful. If you're evasive, I'm allowed to express my anger. Here goes: Do you love me?"

"Yes," I replied, surprised at how vulnerable and insecure Maxine seemed.

"Do you trust me?"

I thought for a moment before answering. "Yes, but I don't know whether you realize that you're hurting me."

"How am I hurting you?" She asked ironically, clutching onto a chain spanning my chest which could cause great pain if she pulled it.

"You hurt me by making love to Richie and Tom . . . "

Suddenly, like a bell ringing, Maxine yanked hard on the clamps.

I then heard her voice through the haze of my pain. "I KNOW all that! I had no choice. I was in a situation where I was obliged to follow through. I thought you understood that!!"

I was recovering from the pain, and her voice softened. "Do you understand THAT?"


There was a pause, as she settled in comfortably again.

"Do you think I'm a good lover?" Maxine asked.

"Yes, I do." I answered.

"Then how come you've complained our entire marriage about our lovemaking."

I carefully tried to shape the question. "It was the frequency I was complaining about." which wasn't true. Only in the last few weeks, with her experimenting, had her technique improved.

"If you're so concerned about frequency, how come you insisted on the cock cage?"

This conversation was a mine-field. One wrong step, and I would just get more pain. "The cage went on before your sex drive increased. We put the cage on to control my masturbating."

Apparantly I had answered correctly, because she cuddled up closer.

"Do you resent the cock cage?"

I thought for a moment before answering. "Yes."

I felt my wife grip the chain tightly just before she pulled. She yanked and I thought she had pulled a nipple right off my chest. "Then how come you can't respond like a real man when I take the cage off??"

I was only beginning to recover, when she yanked again. "Answer me!!"

I answered quickly, "Because when my cock is locked up for a long time, it takes time to respond."

She was clutching the chain. "Are you calling me insensitive?"

"No! I'm not. It's me. It's me." I couldn't stand any more pain right now.

She eased up. "Well, if it's you, I want you to tell Dr. Gruen the truth about it. I won't let you and a therapist gang up on me."

She paused for a moment and readjusted the nipple clamps, which had almost come off. She settled back into a comfortable position. "Who was the one who got you obsessed with the smell and disgusting taste of my ass: You or I?"

I knew what was coming. I couldn't win. If I said "I developed it myself," she would be angry that I told Dr. Gruen a lie. If I repeated that she developed my fixation, she would explode.

"I did myself."

Quickly, one in each hand, Maxine closed the clamps. The pain was electric in intensity. I couldn't see straight, and she grabbed the chain. "Then why. . ." She yanked suddenly. ". . . did" she yanked again. "you . . ." another yank "Lie???" One final yank, and a clamp came off. She immediately reapplied it, tightening it all the way.

I was close to tears. "Please stop, Maxine."

She grabbed the chain again, cuddled closer, and held me back by my waist so I wouldn't be able to lessen the pressure as she pulled the clamps away from my chest. "Just tell me why you lied to Dr. Gruen?"

BUT I DIDN'T LIE! I wanted to yell, but was afraid of the pain. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I lied."

"Then tell her so the next time." Maxine said, and eased up on the chain.

After a slight pause, Maxine had us shift positions so she sat back and spread her legs, and I leaned back between her legs, facing in the same direction. She looped her legs on top of mine to keep me steady, placed one arm across my shoulders, and clutched the chain with her other hand. My head rested back on her shoulder. I felt nothing but her softness, and smelled her perfume. I began to harden inside of the cock cage, and Maxine gentle toyed with my penis with her foot.

"I got an offer to go to work for the summer at a health club which Richie owns. It would be a managerial position. The pay would be good, and I'd feel a lot better about myself. Do you have any objections to my working for Richie?"

If this exercise was meant to elicit honest responses, the pain made that impossible. I did object, but the idea of receiving pain for telling the truth made it impossible to say no. I glanced down, and Maxine was poised to yank my nipples off if I gave the wrong answer. "No objections."

"It's mostly evening and night hours. Do you have any problem with that?" With the nipple clamps as an enforcement device, I just quickly nodded in agreement.

"And," Maxine braced her legs, and held me tighter. She gripped the chain tightly. "If at any time, the situation presents itself where I'm obliged to do a sexual act for one reason or another, like at the disco, will you ever make me feel guilty, or will you trust me and know that I love you more than anyone?"

She breathed on my ear, and caressed my chest as she waited for the answer. She was not impatient for the reply, because she knew what it would be. "I trust you."

Now she was whispering, and she gave me a squeeze. "Good honey. I'm glad. And will you ever again hurt me by acting unappreciative when I give you a gift, or will you accept the gift, and thank me for it." She was referring to the blow- job technique which she had learned while experimenting on Pump. Again, there was only one sane response. "I'll accept the gift and say thank you."

For a moment, Maxine just caressed my hair, and face, and hugged and kissed me from behind. The contrast between the biting pain in my nipples and the gentle caresses confused my senses. "Just one more question, darling, then we can both go to sleep." By now, I was almost delerious from the pain.

She held me tightly now, and I tried to squirm away because I knew it would be another no win question. But her hand was tight across my chest, and her legs around my midsection. She held the chain tightly, and asked the question very clearly. "Do you want to have a sex life at all?"

A 'no' might banish me to the cock cage forever. A 'yes' opened up a Pandora's Box which could trigger her anger. I had to risk the pain.

"Yes I do." I said, and braced myself.

She didn't yank on the clamps, but touched my hair and then squeezed me tighter. I relaxed. "So do I, honey. But . . ." Like a flash, she started pulling steadily on the clamps, forcing me to lift my chest off the bed. She forced me back with all her weight so my nipples would receive all of the pressure. I screamed, but she kept pulling, and began yelling: "If you do, then why are you making problems??" She kept up the pulling, for a moment, tugging until she applied a steady pressure, and yanked first one, then the other clamp off my nipples. The pain was as intense as I've ever felt.

Maxine stopped, and I was crying. She then went back to caressing me, and cooing that it would be alright, the exercise was over. "It'll be okay, baby." She shifted me over onto my side again, held me, and we went to sleep with Maxine massaging life back in my nipples.

"I hope I didn't hurt you too much. But I think Dr. Gruen was right. Don't you think we learned a lot from that exercise."

I certainly learned that the pain was more than I could take, and that the choice may indeed come down to choosing to stay with the woman I loved, or leaving her.

To Be Continued...