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By D D Writer (ddwriter45@yahoo.com)


I'm a third year medical student and my wife, Laura, is a doctoral student in counseling psychology with an interest in trauma recovery, particularly rape trauma. We are both 26 years old.

Laura and one of her classmates, Marty, have become close friends, although Marty and I have never met that is, we've never met in the ordinary sense of that word. Let me explain.

Marty, also a doctoral student in psychology and 24 years of age, recently disclosed to Laura that she was raped when she was 15 by a boy, Rod, who was 17 at the time and whom she had dated only a couple of times. Their two dates had consisted only of going to movies; the rape occurred in his car after their second date.

Rod had driven his car to a secluded area to make out. Marty had never had sex before the rape and has never had sex since she can't get over the fear of being helpless and vulnerable while alone with men. She remembers that her rapist had an unusually large penis, causing the rape was physically painful as well as emotionally traumatic.

Although Marty has received extensive psychological counseling, she is still so fearful of men that she cannot become intimate. At 24, she is worried that she cannot have a fulfilling adult life until she finds a way to recover from the trauma of her rape nine years ago.

Marty disclosed her rape experience and her fears to Laura, who is an exceptionally good listener and a wonderfully supportive friend, as well as a specialist in rape trauma. Laura had an idea about a treatment for Marty that involved me. She talked her idea over with me and asked me if I were willing to participate. In reply to my curiosity, Laura explained that Marty is very attractive, petite and trim with a sizable bust and a cute face. I was willing, so she proposed her idea to Marty, who also accepted, although with some trepidation. This story tells what happened.

Laura explained to Marty that I am an intelligent, sensitive, caring, and emotionally healthy man... and also extremely well endowed my erect penis is nearly eleven inches long.

Laura's plan involved inviting Marty to our home where I would be already bound, hands and feet tied to the four corners of our king-size bed. A large sheet would be completely covering my body except for a hole where my penis and testicles would be passed through and accessible to Marty and Laura for use during the therapy. The hole had a drawstring so it could be slightly tightened around the base of my penis and under my scrotum, causing my external sex organs to be the only visible part of my body.

I would have earphones with music so I could not hear what Laura and Marty would be saying during the session. Also, I was committed to not speaking throughout the treatment so Marty would not feel that she was with a "real human being." In effect, my disembodied genitals would symbolically represent her rapist, and would be used to help Marty work through her fears, feelings of helplessness, and anxiety about being out of control with men in sexual situations.

The therapy session was scheduled to begin at 1:00 pm on a Saturday afternoon and last as long as necessary, perhaps into the evening.

Marty arrived exactly on time and rang the doorbell. Laura had prepared me on the bed and gave me an appreciative kiss before putting on the earphones and pulling the sheet over my head. Finally, she placed a small towel over my genitals before answering the door. Much of the following report is from Laura, since I was not able to see or hear anything until the session was over many hours later.

Laura accompanied Marty into our bedroom. Laura had suggested that they both dress in skimpy negligee to heighten Marty's feeling of being exposed and vulnerable, albeit in a safe situation. (Laura wore negligee simply to be "in sympathy" with Marty to increase her comfort.) Laura explained that although I was her husband, Marty should let go of any feelings about "being with another woman's husband" or other concerns about Laura's jealousy or possessiveness of me. Rather, she helped Marty regard my genitals as simply a physical object that she could experience in any way she wished.

Marty understood that I would not speak or otherwise manifest my "humanity" as a known person. The only rule about using my genitals in this therapeutic setting was that Marty must not hurt or injure me. However, she could disregard my sexual needs entirely. Indeed, Marty was not to feel responsible for taking care of me or responding to my needs. In fact, the therapy plan included allowing Marty to frustrate me mercilessly as a way to experience a sense of control and power while being with men.

Laura and Marty sat cross-legged across from each other with my mid-section directly between them. After a few minutes' talking to help Marty relax and become oriented to the setting, Laura invited Marty to remove the towel from my genitals whenever she felt ready to do so. As I felt the towel being slowing pulled aside, my already half-erect penis quickly grew to its full eleven-inch dimension as I realized a woman whom I had never met was gazing at my exposed genitals.

Now that my genitals were on full display to Marty, Laura said: "Marty, think of these sex organs as the 'Universal Male' not as belonging to any particular man. They are a part of every man your rapist who used them to violate and hurt you, your father who spawned you, your future lovers who will use them to give you pleasure, your future spouse who will use them to father your children, and your sons, if you have male children. But before you can have healthy relationships with male people, you have some unfinished business with your rapist. The opportunity you have today is to progress toward completion of that business, to come to terms with his maleness that hurt you, and to differentiate your rapist from other men."

Laura continued: "When you were raped, you were vulnerable. No one was there to protect you from Rod, who abused his power and who exploited your trusting vulnerability to satisfy his own selfish needs. But right now you are safe in the presence of the Universal Male. You are the one who has control. The male is securely tied up and not able to move. He can't hear you, or see you, or speak to you you are anonymous in his presence and free to do whatever you feel comfortable doing, and feel that you should do, to finish your unfinished business. You and I two women are the only real people in this room. I hope you can trust me to help you heal your hurt, and to guide you in using these sex organs of the Universal male, which are provided for you simply for that purpose."

Marty fully understood what Laura meant in this opening statement, and was immediately able to perceptually frame their setting as Laura proposed. As a check, Laura asked Marty how many people are in the room. "Two," replied Marty.

Laura encouraged Marty to discuss her feelings, as she looked at a huge penis indeed, any penis for the first time in nine years. Marty replied that she felt a complex mixture of fear, anger, fascination, and some sexual curiosity. Laura invited Marty, whenever she felt ready, to touch and explore the sex organs of the Universal Male. With some hesitation, Marty reached out and lightly touched the skin of my shaft.

For several more minutes she lightly touched me as she tentatively explored these foreign and frightening male sex organs. She examined the texture and viscosity of my precum, which was already generously oozing from the tip, spreading it over my pulsing glans.

Laura continuously invited Marty to describe her emotions as she explored my genitals, and Marty became more comfortable revealing her deep anxieties, imagery, and feelings to Laura. Over the next half hour or more, Laura invited Marty to become more assertively exploratory with her touch. In time, she wrapped a hand around my shaft and felt my testicles, pushing them around inside my scrotum. She gradually felt more authorized and assertive in making contact with this quintessentially male object my genitals the sex organs of the Universal Male.

Marty then reported a flashback she was having about the rape experience. Rod had taken his penis out of his pants and tried to get Marty to touch it. She refused. He then forcibly took her hand and put it around his erection, making her move her hand up and down to masturbate him. She became frightened, as Rod got more aroused and aggressive, so she pulled her hand away. That's when he got angry and raped her. Thereafter, male sexual arousal felt dangerous to her.

To help Marty understand male sexuality, Laura demonstrated how men masturbate by gripping my cock mid-shaft and pumping several times, causing the skin to ride up over my corona. She then guided Marty's hands to do the same, explaining that only a minute or so of this action in my state of arousal would cause me to ejaculate.

Marty became anxious and fearful as she sensed the hardening of my cock and the quickening of my breathing, recalling how this had happened just before Rod raped her. Laura reminded Marty that she could stop masturbating me any time she wanted to, regardless of how aroused I became, and that I was completely restrained and so could not force her to do anything. Marty was gradually beginning to feel that she did indeed have control over the Universal Male, and would never again be his victim.

Laura also demonstrated how to handle testicles, including how firmly they can be squeezed before causing significant discomfort or pain. With Laura's expert coaching, Marty was able to grip my testicles in her hand so she had the feeling of "having a man by the balls." The fact that she could, if she chose, give them a crushing squeeze and that "he" (that is, I) could do nothing to prevent it, was an empowering experience for Marty.

She experimented with gripping my balls until Laura recognized by my body movements indicated that I was beginning to feel pain, and coached Marty to relax her grip slightly. With both hands gripping my testicles, she was able to voice her feeling of power, "Now I've got you by the balls, big guy. What are you going to do about it? It's my turn to call the shots now. How do you like that?!" She gave them a quick squeeze, causing my body to tense. Laura reported later that Marty smiled with pleasure at her feminine power over the male aggressor.

Next, Laura began to help Marty experience the power of controlling the male's orgasm, noting that many women feel that men control sexual experiences by the urgency of their orgasms. This was very meaningful to Marty, since she had felt during the rape that her Rod's overwhelming urgency to climax was what drove him to attack and violate her. During this therapy session, Laura invited Marty to resolve to regain a feeling of power by exercising complete control over my orgasm, allowing me to have no influence whatsoever over its timing.

Marty needed help with this since she had never experienced a man's orgasm except on the occasion of the rape. Because of her trauma, she had never fondled a man so she did not recognize the stages of arousal and imminent ejaculation. Laura proceeded to expertly teach her these skills and sensitivities.

All the while, I was lying bound and completely helpless, unable to see or hear, entirely covered by a sheet except for my sex organs protruding through the drawstring hole, visualizing my wife with another woman who was a stranger to me manipulating my genitals an extremely erotic image. Laura and I had refrained from having sex for a few days so that my physical reactions during the session would be intensified for Marty's benefit. I was approaching a state of nearly unbearable sexual tension. But relief was not "near at hand." The session had gone only a couple of hours by this time, and it would be several more hours before I was delivered of my agony.

Forcing my legs farther part and my knees to bend so the soles of my feet were facing each other, Laura sat between them to demonstrate how to grasp my testicles in her left hand, pulling them slightly away from my body, while slowly stroking my throbbing erection with her right hand. In this position, she showed Marty how to recognize the visual and tactile signs of approaching ejaculation, such as the involuntary retraction of my testicles, the darkening redness of my glans, the hardening sponginess of my corona, as well as my breathing.

After Laura's expert demonstration, Marty assumed the position between my legs. In this "driver's seat," she was invited to arouse, frustrate, and deny my orgasm as long as she wished. Marty quickly became quite skilled at this, bringing me tantalizing close to ejaculating, then removing her hands and watching my pulsating cock bounce in space, frantically seeking more stimulation.

Although I was committed to not speaking words, my groans and guttural moans of desperate yet powerless urgency added to Marty's experience of being in control. Although I could not hear Marty's voice, Laura reported later that Marty was able, with Laura's facilitation, to give voice to her anger with expressions such as, "Take that, you bastard!" "How do you like being the one who hurts, asshole!" You think I care about your needs? ... think again, motherfucker!" "Time for you to suffer, jerk!"

At times, I could hear Marty's voice over the music in my headphones as she shouted epithets at the man who raped her, represented symbolically by my sexual organs. Over and over, Marty would bring me close to ejaculating, stop, remove her hands, lean back on her back stretched arms in a posture of taunting disregard to watch the display of my sexual frustration, then yell angrily, releasing her pent-up rage that had built up over the past nine years since her rape.

Marty again recalled her rape, tearfully saying she wished she could have had this control over Rod. It would have been nice, she said, to be able to explore her sexual curiosity about his genitals without fear that he would attack her when he become aroused. She slapped herself on her knees several times in frustration and anger.

Recognizing that Marty needed to cathartically express her aggressive physical energy, Laura showed her how she could slap my huge throbbing cock, knocking it from side to side like a bozo doll, without injuring me or causing great pain. Being able to physically strike at the hated object of her rage was very therapeutic for Marty, and she did so vigorously for a long time.

Laura told me later that Marty swung her open hand as hard as she could, slapping my erection while gripping my testicles in her other hand, yelling and cursing, ventilating her rage. When my cock slightly softened, she would pump it again until it was fully engorged and near orgasm, imagining that she was punishing Rod for his selfish insistence on sexual gratification.

She felt she was getting revenge against her rapist, evening the score that had been so imbalanced these past nine years. This went on for over an hour as I endured helplessly and mostly silently. Lying with my legs spread wide and knees bent, with this angry manhating woman sitting between them, I was completely vulnerable to her aggression. I was protected only by Laura's moderating guidance of Marty's anger. I shuttered to think of what Marty, in her rage, might do to my exposed and vulnerable balls if Laura were not there to protect me.

Eventually... at about 6 pm, five hours after we began... Marty's anger began to subside, gradually being replaced by more tender and sexual feelings. She told Laura she would like to see semen, for the first time in her life. Semen represented to Marty a more life-affirming and less dangerous aspect of the Universal Male.

Laura, wanting to preserve my complete ejaculation for a possible later purpose (I'll explain soon), agreed to show Marty how to bring out just a small drop of semen. She gripped the base of my penis while also forcing my testicles to be extended from my body. She then carefully stroked my shaft until she felt my testicles retract and a thickening of the base of my penis caused by the first surge of semen begin to enter it.

My body shuttered with agonizing frustration when she stopped stroking at the exact moment that allowed only a small drop of milky fluid to emerge from the tip. I could barely maintain my commitment to not speak, wanting to shamelessly beg for release. Actually, I did quietly utter "please" through clenched teeth in a deep groan. Laura said that Marty's demeanor seemed to change at that moment, recognizing that there was a real person attached to the penis who was suffering intensely under her control.

After pausing about 30 seconds to let my interrupted ejaculation subside, and with her hand still gripping my balls, Laura invited Marty to take the drop of semen between her fingers to compare its consistency and slickness to precum, and to taste it.

At first Marty didn't want to taste my semen, but when she saw Laura put it to her tongue she agreed to try. But, as the first drop of semen had already been removed, Laura carefully and firmly gripped my shaft about mid-length between her thumb and forefinger and slowly stripped it toward the top, which brought another small milky drop to the surface. Laura put her lips around my glans and licked it off, then asked Marty if she would like to do that.

Seeing the mouth-to-penis contact emotionally touched Marty, saying it resembled a tender and affectionate kiss. So, Laura stripped my penis again, this time from its base, and one more drop of semen emerged, which Marty then took into her mouth by putting her lips around my glans. If she had not paused for several seconds, the sensation of her mouth on my penis would have brought on an uncontrollable eruption of semen. Instead, Marty learned that, notwithstanding their urgent protestations, men could survive even the most intense sexual frustration even interrupted orgasm at the moment it begins.

My erection had barely softened at all, since Laura had so expertly limited the release of semen to only a few drops. I still had a full load of ejaculate waiting to be released.

For the next several minutes Laura and Marty were apparently talking to each other, while gently stroking my penis, which brought it back to full engorgement. It actually felt like their stroking was absent-minded, as if their attention was focused on something else. The next thing I knew, one of the women (I didn't know which one at the time) straddled my torso on her hands and knees. I could feel my penis being rubbed against wet, hot labia before being guided to the opening of a vagina. Very slowly, its tip was gently slipped between her labia and pressed against the opening.

Since I knew well the feeling of Laura's vagina, and sensing this one was very tight, it was now clear that my penis was at the vestibule of Marty's vagina an immensely erotic realization, heightened by the fact that I had never seen her nor talked to her. I understood that, for the benefit of her therapeutic experience, I must remain completely still, allowing her to have total control over how quickly and how deeply I entered her.

Despite a nearly overwhelming urge to thrust my cock into her, I forced myself to remain motionless, granting her complete control over what was happening. After all, I reminded myself, this was therapy, not an ordinary sexual act.

Later I learned that Laura had invited Marty to experiment with putting my erect penis to her genitals, to rub it against her labia, and to let it enter her as far as she was comfortable. Laura had selflessly offered to leave the room to give Marty privacy while she experimented with voluntary sexual intercourse for the first time in her life. But the bond of trust had formed so strongly between the two women that Marty asked Laura to stay to provide additional guidance.

I could tell that Marty was fumbling and unfamiliar with how to guide my penis into her vagina, which was complicated by the fact of my size. After a few minutes, I could feel Marty getting off of me and Laura getting on. Laura expertly guided my penis slowly into her vagina, apparently demonstrating for Marty how it is done. She then slowly moved her body up and down a few times, deliciously milking my shaft, before settling down as far as she was able before my penis reached her cervix, showing Marty about four inches of my shaft remained outside her vagina. She also pointed out that I did not attempt to thrust deeper, which could hurt or injure a woman, and reassured Marty that she could safely let my penis fill her up without fear of being hurt.

Although Laura and I both wanted to complete my orgasm immediately, she moved off of my body so Marty could remount me. I could feel two sets of hands on my penis as they guided me gently between Marty's outer labia and into her opening. It took several minutes of slow, gentle, and intermittent pressure, completely controlled by her, for my penis to enter her.

As a safety measure for Marty, Laura kept her fist tightly around my shaft, first allowing only a couple of inches to enter Marty's vagina at first, then gradually moving her fist down the shaft to allow more length to enter. I "hit bottom" with about five inches of my length still to go (A disadvantage of being eleven inches long is that I have never felt the satisfaction of being inserted "to the hilt" but I'm not complaining!).

As I remained completely motionless, Marty slowly moved up and down, sliding my shaft in and out of her nearly virginal vagina. Once she became comfortable and confident that I would not thrust and hurt her, Laura removed her fist so Marty could be in full control of her first true act of sexual intercourse. She gradually quickened the pace of her movement and I could sense that she was approaching orgasm.

Because of the partial ejaculation earlier, my orgasmic response was dulled, which allowed Marty to have a complete orgasm before I ejaculated. Through my earphones I could hear her loud gasps as she climaxed. At the moment she stopped moving I was again on the edge of ejaculating. My temptation was immense to thrust slightly, which would have launched a spasm that I could not have controlled. But, realizing that this was an extremely delicate moment in Marty's therapeutic recovery from rape trauma, I forced myself to remain motionless.

When her orgasm was complete, Marty relaxed, lowered her body, laying her chest on mine, with my pulsing erection still inside, still lodged against her cervix. For the first time, I could feel the ampleness of her bare breasts as they pressed against my chest through the thin sheet. I could tell by her body's movements that she was sobbing.

The convulsing of her body while sobbing nearly caused me to ejaculate, despite my remaining motionless. She cried loudly for several minutes, gradually beginning to speak to Laura about her feelings of grief mixed with happiness. All the while, I stayed completely quiet so she could have all the time she needed to resolve her emotions and become ready to move away from me. Indeed, it was her tears of release and relief that constituted the main "therapeutic moment" of her experience that day I swore to not selfishly interfere with her healing.

After Marty moved off of me, I was again lying with only my genitals exposed to these two women as they continued talking. After a while, I felt Laura's familiar mouth envelope the head of my penis and begin to caress my glans with her tongue. Then I felt a different mouth, as Marty did the same. They switched back and forth several times, as Laura instructed Marty in the finer points of fellatio.

Again I was approaching orgasm, hoping that this time I would finally be allowed to have a complete ejaculation, yet still being unsure what Laura had in mind as the therapist. When I began to spurt, I realized my time had finally come. I tried to control the muscular spasms that wracked my body, but wasn't completely successful I felt two hands firmly gripping my exploding penis, preventing it from thrusting too deeply into my deliverer's throat.

It was Marty's mouth that received my voluminous semen that had been built up over the past seven hours of this unique therapy session. I could feel the tenderness and affection transmitted through her lips and hands as she gave me the full satisfaction I yearned for. She seemed to be telling me how much she appreciated my help. I felt for the first time that she acknowledged that I was a real human being in the room with her, not just a set of sex organs representing the Universal Male.

As I lay exhausted, I was barely aware that the two women left the room. In a few minutes, Laura returned, removed the sheet that was over my body, untied me, and removed the headphones. It felt wonderful to be free to move my body again. We smiled and kissed as she lay down beside me.

In that interim, Laura had accompanied Marty to the door, and they had hugged in a tearful embrace that perhaps only women can completely understand.

I did not actually meet Marty "in person" for nearly a year after that experience. Then, last week, I attended a party held for Laura's graduating class. Laura guided me to a corner of the room and introduced me to a beautiful, petite young woman and her male companion.

"Honey, I'd like you to meet my friend Marty. And this is her boyfriend, Jerry." We exchanged the usual greetings that accompany such introductions, but with a special twinkle in our eyes.

Marty and Jerry looked happy together.

END