Cuck Therapy Pt. 05

"While I was rubbing his dick in it, I said, 'I turned around before I got to work. I've been home all day. In bed.' I was trying to get some reaction, some... acknowledgement. He didn't say anything. He just let me rub him in it until, finally, he pushed in.

"He slid in real easy, of course. He fucked me slow for a bit, but soon he was really hammering me. He used one hand to hold himself up at an angle from which he watch down there, and with his other hand he held one of my legs spread wide and pushed back to tilt my hips back for a better view. I could feel more of Mark's cum oozing out of me as John fucked me. His balls were basically splashing in it.

"I asked him if he liked it. I said, 'You like that, don't you, baby?' John didn't answer or look at me. He told me to get on my knees. I did. Then he really started giving it to me, holding my hips hard in his hands. I started to think again about John watching Mark fuck me. I wondered if John were visualizing it, too, while he did me. I figured he probably was, even though he was pretending nothing was up. It turned me on, and I reached down to rub myself while he fucked me. I'd never done that with John. Too self-conscious or something. But imagining him watching me have sex with another man turned me on so much, I though I could bring myself to a good orgasm. When John saw me touching myself, he slowed his pace. It felt good. But the pretending... it seemed like a wedge between us in an otherwise very intimate moment. I wanted to push against the pretending a little bit, to bring us closer. I took a little risk, and I said, "You like watching me get fucked real slow, don't you, baby?" It seemed to send a jolt through my body just saying it. I surged closer to orgasm. So did John. He suddenly picked up the pace again and I knew he was gonna cum. We came together like that, both of us moaning. It was wonderful.

"After we were done, I collapsed on the bed. I was exhausted. John lay on my back a while, the end of his dick still in me, and then he rolled off and lay down facing away from me. I held him and kissed his neck. I started thinking about when we could do this again. I considered calling in sick the next day, except that this time, I'd let John know in advance. He'd know what it meant. It would become a new unspoken code between us. I wondered what he'd do. I knew at least he would spy and find out who came to his house, and finally find out who I was sleeping with. But what else? Would he sneak in and listen? Even peak on us? I really didn't know, except I knew it would really turn me on, fucking Mark while John knew it was happening. And we would have wonderful sex again afterwards.

"But the next day wouldn't work because Mark was expected back in the office. It would be too suspicious if we both called in sick. The girls at work were already teasing me. Mark and I tried not to show any interest for each other while at work - I don't think anyone else noticed anything. But the girls were all attracted to Mark and were playfully competitive about who got more of his attention. They clocked it. They weren't mean-spirited when they teased me - they were, like, supportive. They said they were jealous. I had started basically ignoring Mark at work, but that only served to confirm their suspicions in their minds.

"Anyway, it would be another week until Mark's project in my office was done, so we'd have to wait until then. Meanwhile, Mark and I couldn't wait that long, so I went over to his house a few days later when his girlfriend was at work. I didn't work too hard on a cover story to tell John. I think he knew what I was up to. And that was when he followed me and made that audio recording. Then he confronted me about Mark, and I was so confused. He was so mad. I didn't understand. It was like we were pretending. I told him it was only a couple of times, feeling foolish and ridiculous - he knew it was more than a couple of times. But he didn't contradict me. I was so fucking confused, so lost, so alone."

Lisa was weeping now. Brunder passed her a box of tissues.

"Thank you, Lisa. I know that was hard to do," Brunder said encouragingly.

Lisa continued, seeming not to hear Brunder.

"My life was upended by this fucking... head-game he was playing on me!"

"Lisa," Brunder said softly, shaking her head.

We let her sobbing subside a while, and then Brunder turned to me.

"Okay, John. I know you must have lots to add. What are your feelings right now?"

"Look - it's not that simple. It's not like she says. I have said that I was suspicious. I was. But I didn't know. I mean - women get wet. She was real wet, yeah, but... and I mean, she could have been using lube on herself while masturbating. It could have been lube."

Brunder studied me a moment.

"Okay," she said.

"You fucking knew!" Lisa wailed, still dabbing her eyes. "Fucking head games."

"Lisa," Brunder chided. "It's not that simple. John's right about that at least."

She leaned back in her chair, looking off at a corner of the office, thinking, while Lisa tried to compose herself.

"Okay," she said finally. "I need to provide a conceptual frame work in which to contextualize and help you both understand what's at work here. Freud is largely dismissed in this field nowadays, but his theory of the subconscious will be helpful in processing this. Are either of you familiar with it?"

Lisa shook her head.

"Id, ego... and a third thing," I said.

"Superego. Yes, exactly. The id is the source of all our primal desires. As we develop from infancy, we encounter obstacles to achieving those desires, and we encounter rules about what drives and desires we are permitted to pursue and in what way. These rules come to us from our parents, our family, teachers, the legal system, churches - every form of authority. We internalize much of this in our superego. Our superego essentially pushes back against our desires in such a way as to allow us to function in society. It's what prevents the id from causing us to engage in such antisocial behaviors as robbery, rape and murder, despite how much we might sometimes want to. The ego is the most conscious part in this framework, it is the part we associate with our identity. It navigates between the id and the superego. It's that within us that seems to make decisions about how to behave, but it is enormously under the unconscious influence of both the id and the superego.

"Everyone's id and superego are unique, as determined by countless genetic and environmental factors. For example, a child who grows up in an environment in which their superego internalizes a lot of shame with regard to sex will likely feel much more ashamed after masturbating than someone who develops in a more sex-positive environment.

"The superego is necessary to function in society, but it often develops in unhealthy ways. If the id is driving us strongly towards behaviors that are especially taboo in the society to which we belong, the superego will compensate by pushing back powerfully against it, so that we are barely aware, or not aware at all, of this impulse. This is what we call repression.

"So, for example, a man who is sexually aroused by his partner's infidelity, if his development has occurred in an environment in which this is especially shameful, will likely unconsciously repress that desire. His superego will keep this impulse submerged in the subconscious so that his ego is not even aware of it. It is too dangerous - it risks causing behavior that will result in social stigma and ostracization.

"The impulse does not go away, though - it just lays buried, repressed. But when a strong enough stimulus presents itself, for example with the discovery of a partner's adultery, the superego can be temporarily be overpowered, and the impulse, the desire, can emerge. Once this desire has been satisfied, the superego can regain control and repress it once again, and even try to erase the event from consciousness, so that the taboo behavior will be prevented from re-occurring.

"John, I expect that you endured shame to a considerably uncomfortable degree after these occasions in which the obviousness of Lisa's infidelity caused you allow this sexual response to emerge. To avoid this uncomfortable response, your consciousness may have, to some degree, tried to reject that the cause of the discomfort had even occurred. But I don't think you are quite so repressed that you fully succeeded in erasing it from your memory. You do remember, don't you, John? Despite the subconscious forces that are trying to prevent you from acknowledging it. You can acknowledge it here, John. It's safe."

They both had their eyes on me. Moments passed.

I nodded.

Lisa squeezed my hand.

"Very good, John," Brunder said encouragingly. "We are making a lot of progress."

"So..." I said. "What... how do we...."

"It's impossible to change or diminish the impulse," she said, anticipating me. "Nor should we try to. It hurts no one. The proper approach is to diminish, or if possible eliminate the attendant shame. The disaster that is gay conversion therapy has taught us this much."

"I'm not gay," I said.

"No. I don't think you are. Your aversion to clean-up seems genuine and consistent in a way that would be extremely unusual in a gay or bisexual man. Straight men sometimes engage in it, but it is almost ubiquitous in men who are gay or bisexual. I have gathered almost enough data to publish a study on it, in fact. And I don't think you are repressing a desire for it. Given how strongly your repressed desires came out on those occasions, I believe that if you had a desire to clean up, you'd have done it and pretended not to know that you were doing it."

"Sorry, 'clean-up?'" Lisa asked.

"It's a colloquial term that is entering the clinical vocabulary," Brunder explained. "It's when a man orally cleans his partner's lover's cum off her body."

"Oh, wow," Lisa said.

"Anyway, what I am saying is that what we are talking about is a legitimate, unchangeable orientation and that we need to focus our efforts on the combating the repression of it, and not waste time vainly trying to change the orientation itself. There is nothing shameful about it."

"So... what does this change about the course of our therapy?" Lisa asked.

"Not much. This is all essentially consistent with my initial analysis. The only thing this amends is our appreciation the degree of repression at work. We continue in the same direction, with the same strategies, only we need to make sure that we maintain a good momentum, and not slow our pace. If anything, we need to pursue this course with more urgency. So far, however, Lisa, you seem to doing an excellent job in terms of pace. Just keep it up."

Lisa beamed at Brunder's praise.

"However, now that you, Lisa, have shared the bulk of the details of your liaisons with Mark, we are going to lose some momentum there. We'll escalate the role-playing. You've already gotten some practice through your sharing sessions, with John needing to reenact the encounters and falling very naturally into the role of the voyeur husband, the cuckold. We need to push harder into that. Don't just rehash stories you've already played through. They will lose their potency."

"Like... How?" Lisa asked. "What should we do and say?"

"That needs to come naturally from the two of you, to be either effective or sexually gratifying. Don't do or say things because you think they might succeed in turning the other on. Be motivated by whatyou want. What youreally want. Each of you."

"Okay," Lisa said, uncertainly.

"Lisa, it was brave of you to finally address the issue of you and John not being able to acknowledge what you both knew. Is there anything that, during sex you find yourself wanting to do or say, but you haven't yet been brave enough to?"

"Ummm, yeah, I... I don't know if it's the right kind of thing, though."

"I'm certain it is. What is it?"

"Well, I mean, probably the main thing I hold back on, because I don't want to upset John, is... like, sometimes when we are really into it... I want to... um, like, suggest... Or ask..."

Brunder nodded.

"Permission? To be with someone else while he watches for real?"

Lisa have a slight nod, staring at the floor in front of her feet.

"I mean not for real, for real. But just to pretend I'm asking."

"That's excellent, Lisa. That's exactly the kind of thing you should work into your role plays. Move from inserting John as a voyeur into your past infidelities to having him play a role in future, imagined infidelities. With whomever you want. It could be new encounters with your former lover or with new ones. Whichever turns you on. You must take the lead. Knowing it is what you really want will be a greater stimulus for both of you and better serve the desensitization therapy. Furthermore, you need to continue to work on extreme transparency and honesty in your communication."

Lisa nodded.

"I'm just worried that John will feel... betrayed. If I ask him for certain stuff."

"Asking is not betrayal, Lisa. It's communication. Both of you need to learn that. The repressive forces at work in John's subconscious may cause some anxiety at first. It may help you to overcome this obstacle if you both pretend to be someone else for now. Pretend you are some other married couple. You could use new names for each other, or not use names. Same for the lover. Invent a name, or use the name of someone you feel genuine sexual desire for if you feel he can handle it. Straddle the line between fantasy and reality, pushing as much as is possible towards reality. And let it be understood that anything said or promised in the context of sexual play is not binding in real life. Let your desires freely determine your behavior and your dialogue without needing to be inhibited by anxiety about later consequences. Understood, John?"

"I can let her manipulate me into agreeing to let her fuck another man, and not worry about having to follow through, is that it?" I said, trying to contain my anger.

Brunder held my look, cool.

"Yes," she said simply. She turned to Lisa. "Lisa, after John ejaculates, and his desire has been stated, you need to be cognizant that his superego will begin to try to take over and reinforce the repression of that desire by invoking a sense of shame and self-loathing. You need to be tender and reassuring. I would have warned you about this earlier, but I underestimated the degree of repression at work. I was working with the information I had available. John, you have been through more than I was aware of in the course of this therapy and have shown more strength than I gave you credit for. You are doing admirably."

This was a new side to Brunder. I tried in vain to fend off a sense of gratitude for her praise, but couldn't. I even felt an involuntary pride.

"Look, where is this going?" I asked. "What does... what does the end look like?"

"When therapy has been successful, you mean? It depends. It's a process."

"Give me range of outcomes."

"It could be as mild as regular role-playing in which the impulses are engaged and satisfied through fantasy, supplemented by carefully curated pornography."

"And... what would a more... extreme outcome look like?"

Brunder leaned back in her chair. It was a moment before she spoke.

"John," she said finally. "I know this is far more easily said than done, but you need to try to stop being frightened of getting well." She waited a beat, surveying us. "I think that's all for today. You two enjoy go and enjoy your barbeque."

________________

Walking home, Lisa sensed I didn't want to talk. The session had been a lot. She hung on my arm as we walked.

"We don't have to talk," she said finally. "I know that was... I mean, that was a lot to process for both of us. But, I think... I feel like we are finding a way forward. I really feel like... well, that we can find a way to be really happy. That I can make you happy. I'll do anything to make you happy, John. And well. Know that. I mean... fucking, anything."

I could feel her breast against my arm through the thin fabric of her loose, red top. I wanted to pull off her tiny jean shorts and fuck her right on the grass our path cut through.

"Okay?" she said.

I nodded.

We could hear but not see the sounds of the get-together Karlee had organized behind the house as we approached. I told Lisa I wanted to go in and shower and change out of my work clothes first and she kissed me, holding my face in her hands. Making me look at her.

"I love you, John."

I nodded again.

She rounded the house as I went in the front door and went upstairs to change.

In our bedroom, I went to the window overlooking the backyard. Half a dozen people I didn't know were drinking and chatting with Karlee and Jeff, and now being introduced to Lisa. No sign of Lewis. I got out of my clothes and then got into the adjoining shower.

I washed quickly, not wanting to linger. With my towel around my waist, I rushed back to the window, just in time to see Lewis stroll in. He went to Lisa and hugged her, giving her a little kiss on the cheek. His hand lingered on her arm as they spoke. Lisa was smiling. She introduced him to Jeff and Karlee and then he followed her as she went to a cooler to get him a beer. To reach down for the beer, she bent over instead of crouching, and his eyes took her in as she presented her ass to him with its scant denim covering.

I felt my cock stir.

Brunder's words echoed in my head.

It's impossible to change or diminish the impulse.

I dressed hurriedly and rushed down.

Karlee was in the kitchen taking a bottle of white out of the fridge as I walked through toward the glass door leading toward the backyard. She had on a sarong-like skirt, a white bikini top and a big sun hat. Her abs were ripped.

"Hi Karlee," I said, marching through.

"Hi John." Suddenly her hand was on the door latch, preventing me from opening it. "Listen, John. Before you go out there, maybe we should come to a firm decision."

"What?" I asked. Confused. A feeling of dread crept over me.

"Are we going tucked or untucked, bud? Make up you mind. And if it's tucked, maybe just tuck it into the pants and not the underwear, hey?"

I looked down and fixed my shirt quickly, untucking it.

"Thanks," I said.

She took her hand off the door, nodding.

"Bevies in the cooler to the left," she called out after me.

I made a bee-line for Lisa and Lewis.

He was leaning in to her, talking close to her ear. She saw me and spoke, interrupting him.

"Hey, sweetie!" she called out. "Did you get a beer? There's a cooler."

Lewis eyed me silently as I approached.

"Hi Lucas," I said. "Mind if I borrow my wife for a moment?"

He smiled.

"It's Lewis."

"Right. Lisa?"

I could sense Lisa fuming as I led her away to a spot in the yard that had some privacy.

"What the fuck, John? That was embarrassing."

"Oh, was that embarrassing? To be interrupted in your flirting with another man?"

"We're just talking, John. He doesn't really know anyone else here."

"So maybe fucking introduce him to someone. Or better yet, not invite him somewhere where the only person he knows is my fucking wife."

"Okay, John. Listen, remember what Brunder said. Recognize your anxiety, accept it as something separate from you, and it will pass."

I stared at her, shaking my head.

"Recognize and accept, John."

"Jesus Christ," I said. "What am I doing here?"

"Getting well, John. This is therapy. Some of it's gonna be hard. We're not on vacation, remember?"

Karlee was walking towards us.

"Hey guys, everything okay?" She deftly carried two glasses of white wine in one hand and a beer in the other. She handed me the beer, and handed Lisa one of the glasses of wine. "I pegged you for an IPA man, John. Close?"