Porn Therapy

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tarkatony
tarkatony
252 Followers

"Spend time with you."

We discussed it for awhile and agreed on a plan.

We changed quickly, went to Starbucks then hiked an undulating trail in a park on the edge of the city. We didn't talk, we just walked. The joy was in the silence, and the proximity. Except for last night, we hadn't been truly together in decades, sounds ridiculous but it was true: I had spent the vast bulk of my time building my company; she had spent the vast bulk of hers in her career. Janice, we always knew, suffered.

"I gather you don't want to talk about it?" I said in the car on the drive home.

"I will, with Janice, but I don't want to talk about it with you. I'm ashamed, Mike. Don't tell me I shouldn't be, I know I should. I just let it take over and run my life. I knew I should have talked to you about it right at the beginning. But I didn't, I don't know why, maybe Janice can figure it out, but I don't want us to waste any time on it now. OK? I'm not going to try to seek your forgiveness, I'm just going to move on."

"Which means?"

"Well, ya, which means what? Here's what I do want to talk to you about." She was quiet for a moment, maybe marshalling her thoughts. "Because of the porn I think I've flipped a switch sexually. No, actually, I'm sure I have. But there isn't a switch for everything. I did what I was told as a kid, that's the way I grew up, that's what I got used to, that's what I expected. And that's what I wanted from you when I married you, Mike. I expected to be told what to do. But I found out you don't work that way; you're not the bossy type, so I've been lost in our relationship, floating out there on my own and I've hated it, hated ... I want you to dominate me ...

I started to interrupt but she shut me off.

"DO IT, Mike," she said loudly, fiercely, "JUST DO IT. I'm your responsibility; dominate me; get my life in order. Maybe I can make something of it yet."

This was dumfounding, I fumbled with another objection ...

But she just got louder. "DO IT! It's the only chance I've got. Dominate me, Mike, I'm your responsibility."

This violated everything I believed in but she had turned a way, shut me out. It reminded me of last night. It seemed like it was the same kind of thing: she laid down an ultimatum, then, it was to have her, now it was to control her. Fine, I'd treat it the same way now as I did then. Control? She wants control? I'll give her control: "OK, Pat, that promotion you were going to turn down? You're going to take it and embrace it and you're going to do it well. And you're going to fully open up to Janice, tell her everything she wants to know, everything. And you're going to get some help learning how to dress. Who from? I don't know, but I don't want you dressing like you hate yourself any more."

Her hand shot out and waved. "OK, OK, that's enough for now, I can only digest so much at a time."

I drove for another couple of blocks. "So, you're serious about this. You want me to dominate you; you want me to control you, you're going to do what I say?"

"Everything."

"You don't look happy."

"I'm not happy, why should I be happy? I don't want to take that job, it's going to mean doing a lot of things I don't want to do. But you know that. That's why you think I should take it. It's what I need to do. I get it but I don't like it."

"So don't take it."

She looked over at me and smiled grimly. "Nice try, Mikey."

I drove for a few more blocks when she said, "And this goes for sex, too. I may have flipped a switch, I may have watched a lot of porn but it doesn't mean I have any confidence."

"And I do?"

"You know what you want."

"Ya, well, it was never to have you as a submissive ... if that's what this is about."

"It is, that's exactly what this is about."

I looked over at her not sure she wasn't kidding me. "Leather and whips?" I knew nothing about submission and it scared me a little, excited me, too, but I had no idea where this was going.

"Pull over, Mike. We need to talk." The way she said it left me with no doubt. I found a parking lot in another block and pulled in.

She started talking before I stopped. She grew up in a household with two very strong women: her mother and her sister, older by three years. She was the baby. She was constantly told what to do and when to do it.

"Are we talking sex here?"

"Never mind about the sex for now, I'm talking about how I grew up." She took her time. It becomes a way of living, she explained. It becomes who you are: you wait for directions; you want them and then suddenly you need them, that's the way her teenage years were and then she married me and all the structure was gone. "I don't remember you ever telling me to do something. Ever. If you wanted something done, you'd do it yourself. I was lost, totally lost. We lived parallel lives. Whatever it was, either I'd do it or you'd do it, you never asked me to do anything and I never asked you. That's the way we operated." It was the exact opposite of what she wanted, what she needed. She didn't want freedom of choice, she wanted freedom from ambiguity, but more than that she wanted to be dominated. Controlled. Owned. Protected.

"I talk like I knew what was going on then but I didn't. I got this domination-submission thing through porn, in the stories. One of the first stories I read just stunned me. It was about a timid little woman who was nearly paralytic when it came to sex until the man, in a loving kind of way, just picked her up and fucked her. It was rough for her, almost rape but over the next few days he did it again and again again and it broke her down and she succumbed, surrender ... whatever you want to call it and her whole life changed. Bam. That was it. It hit me between the eyes. It was me. It's exactly what I wanted. I read about a lot about submission and thought a lot about it, constantly. Then I traced it back to my childhood: everything fit together perfectly. I am a complete submissive, that's just me. I can function without it but I'll never feel desirable or fulfilled or satisfied until I'm dominated, totally dominated ... by you. Trouble is, you don't dominate, it's just not in your DNA. So what do I do? I shut up."

"You're sure about all this, absolutely sure?"

"Totally."

"How could you be ... through porn, I mean, can that really be a way to diagnose behaviour?"

"It can sure get you in touch with your inner self." She looked at me, intensely. "I've seen your albums, Mike. You have hundreds of pictures of women in panties. Why?"

Her question didn't bother me, the last 24 hours has inured me to my own peccadilloes. "I love that women will allow pictures of themselves like that. They want me to look at them, I find that thrilling."

"Why because I've never let you see me?"

"Maybe, ya, but the reason I think I like them so much is because they seem so natural, so honest: here I am aren't I pretty. Ya, you are and ya, it's no big thing to sit in a chair in your underwear — we make it a big thing and it's stupid. I love that it's so ... natural." I was glad to be getting this out. And I had more. "I have a database of masturbation links, you've probably seen it. There's one particular series, a German woman on the street apparently talking to complete strangers, women, and they end up going up to her apartment, it's her apartment I gather, it's all in German so I don't actually know, but up there these complete strangers take off their clothes and they masturbate in front of a camera while the woman looks on with a microphone in her hand, encouraging them and sometimes helping. It's beautiful. I find it thrilling."

"Ya, I'vve seen them. I think those women have to do it. They're given an opportunity, given a challenge and they can't resist: they just go for it. I get that. I'd do the same thing under the right circumstances, just like I'd stand in front of a photographer nude if you told me to. I'm those women, Mike, I just need your directions."

Some things are too surreal to absorb.

She guessed as much. "I want you to know precisely what I'm saying. Take this seriously. Maybe I can change, who knows, but I do know that I will never change if you don't take control. I am a totally submissive personality, Mike. I need to be dominated. Get it?"

"You're absolutely sure of that?"

"Totally. I'm certifiable."

"Submissive in everything or just sex?"

"Everything."

"So even though it's irrational, counter-intuitive and insulting if I asked you to take your clothes off right now, you would?"

"Immediately."

"Seriously?"

"Totally."

"And you'd get sexual pleasure out of that?"

"Relief and joy for sure, and sexual pleasure too if that's what you were getting out of it."

"How about if I'm manipulating you for my own pleasure?"

"That would bring me pleasure, too."

"Really?"

"I want you to manipulate me because that will mean you want me."

I still couldn't grasp this. "What if we were some place and I told you I wanted you to have sex with some guy? You'd do it?

"I would."

Surprisingly, this didn't shock me. "And you'd get off on that because I'd get off on it or I wouldn't have asked you to do it? Is that the idea? You trust me absolutely?"

She smiled. "Bingo."

"So I am the man."

"You da man."

"And this doesn't scare you?"

"It excites the hell out of me, Mike. I'm soaking."

It was exciting the hell out of me, too but scaring me because I really didn't understand it. "So what's abuse?"

"This is pretty close." She grimaced.

"This?"

"Talking about it. I just want it to be over, Mike. I don't want to talk about it, I just want you to do it. Snap your fingers, take control. You are the dominate, I am the submissive. Period. I don't want there ever to be any doubt about it: you master, me ..."

"Slave?"

"Slave."

I knew I'd have to think a lot more about this before I understood it but right now she looked like she wanted to be tested ... and I knew I wanted to test. "I might ask you to take your panties off to show me you're wet."

She demonstratively brightened. "Are you asking me?"

"Yes."

She didn't even look around, immediately she started in on her shorts.

I leaned against the door and watched her, my erection now fully-grown. "What would happen if I liked this idea of domination as much as you do?"

"You can't, Mike." She was kicking her shorts off. "You you can only like it. I need it."

I watched, fascinated as she sat up and stripped off her panties and handed them to me. They were white and cotton and truly wet.

"I want you to wear sexier stuff in future. Light colours."

She smiled happily. "Sure."

"Do you want me to buy them or will you?"

"I will, but get me things you want me to wear. That would thrill me."

She didn't try to cover up after she handed me her panties, she just lay back with her legs open looking at me with an entirely new appearance, one of devotion.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I'm owned, Mike, it's the best feeling I've ever had."

I checked the mirrors before I leaned forward and kissed her. Tears rolled down her cheek.

They were obviously tears of relief which ended quickly.

It felt truly weird when I handed back her panties and told her to get dressed. She was right, I hadn't noticed it before but I've never actually told her to do anything, it just didn't come natural to me. Telling her to put on her panties felt strange, unnatural, even creepy. Could I do this?

I drove out of the parking lot onto the street. "So I've officially taken over, is that how we're leaving this? I am now the dominant, you are now the submissive and in all things including sex? Is that what you want? This is the way we are now going to live our life together?"

"It's more than that Mike. It's that but I want everyone to know it, I don't want you hiding this. I want you to show people you dominate me, that's the way I'd like to live."

The weird just got weirder. "That isn't sick?"

"You don't have to order me around, you just ask me so that people can see me obey."

"Obey?"

"Obey."

"That's what you need. Submission, obedience?"

"Domination, submission and obedience, yes."

I really wasn't getting this but she was dead serious, I knew that. "We'll go slow."

"Not too slow."

I thought about this for a couple of blocks. "So if I'm always telling you what to do how do I know what you want?"

"Jesus, Mike, you just don't get it, do you? If you're telling me what to do, I am getting what I want."

"So, literally, if I was having a drink with Frank and I called you in and told you to strip, you would."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a submissive, I do what you tell me."

"But you'd be repulsed, if not at the thought of it, at me asking you to do it."

"No I wouldn't. You'd have your reasons and that's good enough for me. I'd do it because you told me to do it and that's why I'd love to do it ... with that example in particular because then Frank would know that you're my man and I'm your woman."

Jesus, the concept was a mind-blow. "Are there any boundaries here? I mean, are there any at all? What would you do if ... I asked you to shoot somebody?"

She thought about this. "I don't know, maybe I'd do it but you'd never ask me to that, that's why I have all this trust in you, that's why I married you. I trust you."

She told me not to run from it. To deal with it. But how do you deal with something like that? Anyway, I wasn't sure she knew what she was talking about. I had never had any sense that Janice was acting strangely towards me. In fact, I've never felt very close to her at all, certainly never felt what Pat was inferring. I put it out of my mind. It was too weird. Pat's problem was far more manageable, although I wasn't sure how. Don't need this if I leave out the section before.

When we got home from the drive I had 2 beers to her glass of wine. We sat in the kitchen knowing that we had to start fucking fast, but I needed a drink, my nerves were shot.

When I made my demand I had to force myself to say the words, and I recoiled at them, they were too crude and imperious but I thought she wanted to hear them. "Go upstairs, put on your sexiest panties and bra, get on the bed and wait for me."

She smiled instantly, quickly stood up and left while I kicked myself all over the block. I have never once talked to a woman that way, or anyone else for that matter, even small animals. It was totally and offensively unnatural to me.

As I watched her bum leave I popped another beer and let my mind just suspend in the swirl of half-baked abstractions that had assaulted me over the last few hours. In the past years I had gone online for my sex. My wife didn't know it at the time but I think she wanted me to; she wanted me to roam the world of smut; to learn as she would later learn; to evolve as she would later evolve. So here we were, two porn graduates about to fulfill our online tutorials.

My hard-on started to press painfully at my shorts so I got up, pulling a six pack from the fridge and took the bottle of wine and glass from the counter.

She was lying on the bed with more confidence than I had ever seen in her, in her yes and in her body, which was barely concealed by the most amazing orange panties and bra.

I put the bottle, cans and wine glass on the night stand.

Her eyes gleamed up at me as she opened her legs. She looked tantalizing lewd, wiry black hair on her smooth white thighs curled into the orange nylon. It was weakening, I sat down on the bed.

The moment I did she scooted down as she pulled me in to her and in seconds I was there, where I had wanted to be after all those hundreds of hours looking at women in their panties. She was pushing my head into her, wrapping a leg around my head, my lips and nose and cheeks were rubbing into the hot, fragrant fabric. God, it was the heaven I knew it would be. I totally relaxed and kissed at her mound as she ran her hands deep through my hair.

How can a man and woman live together and not connect, then, all of a sudden ...? It didn't make any sense. And it didn't make any sense that this woman could transform so instantly. What did it? I could hardly remember. The admission of incest? The admission of porn? The news that she is a submissive? Yes, it was that one word, submission, that's what changed everything ... because it changed both of us, not just her, but me, too — me in particular because if she was to be submissive I had to be dominant ... or it wouldn't work. That's what changed most for me. Not her, she had always had to deal with her problem. It was me who had to change and that changed everything. It would never have happened if it hadn't been for porn.

With my lips tracing the edge of her panties, my nose tickled by the little black hairs curling out, I felt a surge of power flow through me. My face was between my wife's legs because I wanted my face there. I could order it now. Now it was mine for the taking because in some form of biological logic, she got off on me getting off. The power was intoxicating. Gone was the brooding, the wishing, the waiting. I could have her now, when and where I wanted, I could have her ... I just had to teach myself to demand her.

My hand was pressed between my legs when I demanded: "Talk dirty to me, Pat. Make me feel like you want this."

There was deathly silence. Had I got it wrong? Had I gone too far. I was about to retreat, to pull away, to apologize when she started in. "I have done this thousands of times with you, Mike. You take me. You kiss me, lick me, suck my breasts, eat my pussy, it's what got me through all those years. You wanted me. You were licking me and sucking and eating me when I went to sleep beside you. I'd ask you what you wanted. You'd tell me. You'd tell me how to lie, how to position myself for you. You'd tell me and then you'd be there with your tongue or your fingers or your mouth or your penis because I was yours. I could see your eyes when you were eating me, Mike, they were glazed in sex, but love, too, love that I'd give myself to you, surrender myself to you, that I wanted you to own and control me. I can't tell you how that made me feel. :Ater on, when I masturbated my fingers were always your tongue, I'd ask you what do you want and I couldn't wait to give it to you."

Her smell was stronger now, the panties were wetter with my slobber but with her, too. I pushed off my shorts and underwear and gripped my cock, thrilled that she was watching me, squirming, charged, as close as I was.

She was pushing at the panties now so I sat up and pulled them off and dropped them on the bed. She quickly took off her bra and reached for my head and put me back between her legs and again pulled at my hair. "I used to do to you everything I saw on your sites, Mike, everything I could do. While you read or slept I tried them all, I imagined myself in the poses, in the groups, in the situations. We did whatever I thought you wanted, what the girls were doing in your pictures and movies. You told me to and we did."

I quickly scanned my memory to see what that might cover. I liked girls in panties, I had albums filled with girls together, amateur girls, girls with odd bodies, slight and fat and hairy and eager. And groups. And anal. And I had a albums of older women who, I thought, saw themselves as sexy, that was an enormous turn-on to me. But there was no S&M, no dominant-submissive stuff so I had to ask. "What did you want, Pat? Was any of it there?"

She chuckled, "What did I want? I wanted a guy in a leopard skin loin cloth with a club over his shoulder dragging me by the hair into his cave, but it wasn't there, no. That isn't you."

"Seriously?"

"Ya, and with a little bit of pain just to remind me of who I am."

I looked up at her and tried to read her. "Seriously? Are you really serious about that?"

tarkatony
tarkatony
252 Followers