Chapter 11 – Part 2, Sado-masochism

This is chapter 11, part 2 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.


Chapter 11 – Part 2, Sado-masochism

Our lives took a giant leap into excitement. In the frenzy of experimenting with sado-masochistic sex, thoughts of finding my replacement took second place. We regressed into raw, primitive passion – a woman destroying her man.

María immediately spotted the problems with our new humiliation relationship. My pain triggered her enhanced orgasms, but her options to incite my pain were limited. Lacking a penis to brutalize my mouth or anus, testicle pain was her only option, and my abused testicles would never withstand the frequency of her sexual activity. Bringing in her lovers to hurt me was also problematic – unless they were twisted, fucking my mouth or anus would be too homosexual. And the men didn’t want me – they wanted her. We discussed using devices that would provoke testicle pain without the risk of damage, and had some good laughs looking at pictures of medieval torture devices. The Mistress Shop in San Francisco carried some of these types of devices, but there was nothing in Guanajuato.

We discussed our sexual activities going back to the salsa dancing years ago. She admitted even then, her lovers physical and verbal abuse of me excited her. She also had been excited by her own verbal abuse of me. But her moments of greatest violence-induced sexual excitement occurred when I smashed JerkFace’s testicles, surmounted only by her and DeepThroat’s attempt to castrate me. She repeated several times I had ruined her, corrupted her by my perversion. She seemed disturbed she wanted to inflict pain, but became excited just talking about it.

But she had another idea – she had been aroused also by my emotional and mental pain when she aggressively pursued another man. I felt that pain physically – the knives cutting up my genitals. If we couldn’t bring other men to me for physical abuse, we would take me to them for psychological abuse. If María saw how much they hurt me, it would excite her as well.

It worked.

So she made good on her long-ago promise to torment me with other men. She began to consort with her lovers openly in public, knowing I saw them together in the streets and cafés, touching and kissing as lovers do. She told me where and when she would meet them so I would go watch. She caressed their hands, faces, and kissed them knowing I was watching until she took them into an hotel.

We shopped for the preferences of her lovers. Some of my best moments were helping her try-on lingerie outfits of ever type, color, and exposure. Lurking in the background was knowing these were for other men, my replacement. Her condition for letting me shop with her was I would never taste her in these outfits.

She told me most details of her encounters with her lovers, before and after the encounters, and used my psychological hurt as an aphrodisiac to excite her before going to see them. After she finished with them, she called me into bed with her, still covered with their sweat, testosterone and semen. She kissed me with her mouth that still tasted of their mouths and penises, and pulled my face into her vulva to lick away their semen. She made me beg for her body, and refused me her vagina after fucking other men. As I twisted-up in pain, she masturbated to screaming orgasms as I watched, begging her for the chance to touch her body. By her words and actions she humiliated me, twisting my body with more pain than I ever experienced before. It worked. She spent more time with more lovers, and used her time with me to get excited for them.

I don’t know if she understood how I could want that hurt, but she gave me what I wanted, and what I wanted was what she wanted.

When we walked around town together, we would see her lovers often, because she had so many of them. I didn’t need Bunk to tell me who they were, I knew their faces because I had seen them together. I asked María to introduce me to them – I wanted to see if they would squirm when they came face-to-face with the husband of the woman they fucked. María agreed, but only with former lovers.

Some men did squirm. María liked this game so she upped the ante, introducing the most handsome or macho of them not just by name but as a lover – maybe she did that to see me squirm. Most of the men flashed fear in their eyes momentarily. Then seeing I wouldn’t attack them, their fear became contempt for the man that wouldn’t defend his honor for his woman. Bunk showed me their homunculus, some fucking María, most fucking me. At times, I encountered them when I was out alone, and I invited them for coffee, thanking them for being good lovers for María and for not mistreating her. They were very polite.

Then I decided on my own to introduce myself to her current lovers. I approached them when they were alone, told them who I was, I knew they fucked my wife, and I thanked them for being good lovers to María. I told them I had no problem with that, but they couldn’t tell María I talked to them, or I would tell their partners about their cheating. Some of the men scared away easily but others were hooked by María and wanted to continue. These were the dangerous ones, so I sabotaged their relationships – I had to make sure no man emerged as the unique and perfect (U&P) replacement for me.

Since Maria told me the details of these men to torment me, I twisted it against her. I used this knowledge to steer them wrong in small ways. I fed them good and bad tips on sexual positions, places to go, food favorites, flowers, and lots of tips on gifts. The point was to create dissonance and small mistakes. I sabotaged their relationships before forcing the man to break it off. The few men that resisted my manipulation were black-mailed into jilting her.

The jiltings served to make María more anxious, cautious, and perhaps, cynical. I wanted to give María the impression the men were just feeding on her ‘puta’ reputation. If a man asked her about the ‘ride’, she would wonder where he heard about it, and what else he had heard about her.

I wanted to create doubt and dissonance, just enough so she would see he was not unique and perfect. This was a delicious game, I could do it forever.

I admit her experience with a large variety of men exploded her sexual technique. She learned something, large or small, from each one. Better yet, she became a virtuoso at manipulating men’s sexual passions. She should have charged them as a prostitute – she would have been among the best and highest paid.

However much I thought I loved her, I lusted after her more. María became more intense with me, trying new techniques and working hard to maintain my excitement longer and drive me to better climaxes. I asked her to do with me the techniques she talked about doing with other men, and she did try some techniques. For the others, she told me, “That’s not for husbands, just for lovers.” She played with me like I was a child, and I was an enthusiastic victim. I had no complaints, this game was incredible.

Weeks of this game stretched into months. She changed lovers, discarding one and finding another, rotating around 2-3 men all the time. Her beauty, bubbly personality and improving sexual techniques attracted and glued men to her more effectively as the game progressed. I decided I needed better information about these men.

I broke a sacred vow to María – I sneaked in her diary, an unthinkable violation of her dignity and privacy. The detail and emotion she wrote there astounded me, far deeper than what she told me about her lovers. Or about me. Her comments about me ranged from average to good – early ejaculation problems, but the best mouth of any man. The current journal didn’t go back far, she had just changed books. I was dying to look in the previous books going back years, but I didn’t dare – I was afraid to learn the truth.

Reading her diary was addictive. She told me the men’s smallest secrets, all their defects which made derailing them easy. I realized I had many of those same small defects, and changed them. Our relationship improved significantly. In retrospect, I became more like her ideal of Mr. U&P, except I didn’t ignite the fire in her groin.

María began commenting, then complaining her lovers were jilting her, and she didn’t know why. She wasn’t doing anything different, but they stopped calling. She had doubts and became anxious about her desirability and sexual performance.

I told her she was more desirable than ever, easy to say because it was true.

That’s when I realized I had taken control of the game – just by talking to her lovers and threatening them, I could cause them to drop her. I could keep her shallow or let her go deep with any man, but she would never find a replacement for me. I would cut them off before they hit critical mass. Now I got my revenge, sweet revenge manipulating her, and thought we could play this erotic game forever.

Now in control, I drove the Castration Game forward in intensity. I let her go deep and deeper with the best lovers, knowing her hurt would be greater when I blackmailed them away. And I wanted her to hurt, to feel my hurt. I wanted her lovers to hurt too.

I started evaluating the men separately from what María told me, looking for the man that might indeed be her Mr. U&P. I decided I would let them go until they fell madly in love, then I would wrench him away, and exult in the torment and hurt María would suffer. I wanted to see her twist and cry as I had.

She corrupted her deep lovers, gradually sucking them into the game, pulling me into their sexual activities. I followed her wherever she led, addicted to the black volcanic inferno that flooded my body. We collaborated on my humiliation and pain, discussing new techniques. We discovered Mexican men would tolerate the presence of another man if their levels of testosterone and adrenaline pumped up, at which María was expert, and if they were in the ‘macho’ position.

She increased the frequency of her encounters and brought them into our house to fuck them on our bed while I listened from the next room. She goaded them to fuck her better to show the gringo they were the better man. She wouldn’t let me watch, but she didn’t close the door. When I passed by, I might see them in any variety of positions. And I saw they handled her hair – I hated that!

María had become expert in sexual technique. She could pace a man and delay his climax to the point of desperation, until she was ready and then she’d blow his head off. I thought again she should return to prostitution, she’d be fabulously rich and desired. But then I thought, ‘be careful what you ask for …’

María searched for the limits to my humiliation and pain, not only for her pleasure but for mine. And for her lovers’. She got close to my limits – she told the men I was impotent with her, which made it true. She told them I liked to suck the penises of real men and to be abused in the testicles. She called me to them and I cried as I sucked them and licked their testicles. My psychological pain was joined by real physical pain as they squeezed my testicles or forcibly fucked my mouth. Their initial hesitation dissipated as she rewarded them for their abuse of me with levels of excitement and fucking sessions that left them exhausted. They became enthusiastic participants in my abuse. In the bed after they left, she would tell me what a pathetic, worthless man I was, and pump my penis until I ejaculated with loin-splitting intensity.

But the next day, we’d make love with all the cariño, emotion and intensity of young lovers. She pleased me and I pleased her.

I was getting much more physical abuse than was healthy, but the psychological abuse was even more damaging to me. The names they called me, the comments they made became a self-fulfilling narrative. I began to believe them, and so did María. I became withdrawn and had problems getting erections – I was slowly being crippled, becoming the pathetic loser they told me I was. The sexual schedule and my increasing moodiness affected my work, so I told María I needed to slow down. She agreed, she also thought we were getting too crazy, but it felt so good …

End of book content.


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