Message-ID: <42847asstr$1055059802@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: Jack C Lipton X-Original-Message-ID: <200306080512.h585CR214037@penrij.uucp.jtan.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 8 Jun 2003 01:12:27 -0400 Subject: {ASSM} Ecstatic Cling [00/12] Orientation (nosex slow intro bond(light)) Date: Sun, 8 Jun 2003 04:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, RuiJorge Author: Jack C Lipton Title: Ecstatic Cling: Orientation Part: 00/12 Universe: Ecstatic Cling Summary: Marital Issues get resolved the "hard" way Keywords: nosex slow intro bond(light) Revision: $Revision: 1.7 $ Archive: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/CupaSoup/www/ Mailing List: FAQ: RCS: $Id: cling00.x,v 1.7 2003/05/19 01:26:55 jcl Exp $ Ecstatic Cling Arrival & Orientation by Jack C Lipton We'd been having problems within our marriage for some time so signing up for a "special" counseling session that would be held away at a small resort (in the off season) didn't seem like such a bad idea. It wasn't even all that expensive since some kind of "experimental" technique was going to be tried. We'd be here for two weeks, no way out, we'd signed enough paperwork and releases. I was hoping to go back home with a better relationship with my wife. As she'd said to me enough times, our marriage was solid, it was just our day-to-day relationship that had problems. We had no children (yet) which had added to our frictions; I wanted children and she didn't. She didn't talk much to me about her first marriage except that it had been a total disaster. The other eleven couples that arrived were an interesting mixture of ethnic backgrounds and given my frictions with my wife my eye was attracted to three of the women who were quite exotic in appearance. Normally I wouldn't notice women other than my wife at all but there wasn't much else to draw my attention in this lobby where we all collected. We finally saw our own marriage counselor show up with her husband as part of another twelve couples that arrived. I was starting to wonder what was going on... Finally, a much older couple arrived carrying notebooks and folders, smiled to us all, and stepped to the center of the room. "Folks, welcome to our program in Applied Comparative Marriage. As done with Comparative Anatomy, we'll be sharing more than you originally realized. You've all been screened, conditioned and have signed off the necessary paperwork, and, for the next two weeks, you're here with us, no way in, no way out, no TV, no phones and no escape. My husband Leon," the woman gestured to her husband, "once made the observation that my marital counseling would probably work better if each couple could come to grips with their place relative to others. He said this in jest but got me thinking. So this is basically what we're going to do. You are all about to learn how alike the grass on the other side of the fence is. Leon?" He walked around the room, passing out envelopes to each of the 48 of us (12 couples in therapy, 12 couples with the therapists). "These are your jobs during our stay here. There is no staff here to provide any distractions, it's going to show you each how well you function with each other in terms of domestic support. You each have nine basic tasks to perform daily and each day has you with a different partner. Open them up." I opened my envelope and found a big name badge to hang around my neck and a schedule full of domestic tasks and other group activities broken down by times of day. Each one hour task was mapped out with a 40 minute period to complete it and up to 20 minutes "slack" before the next task. There were breaks for meals and group discussions mixed in. My schedule was the same for each day but I saw Helen's changed day-to-day. Granted, I might not like some of these tasks but I could cope with it. I also noted that Helen wasn't my partner for any of these jobs for over a week. One couple put their badges on, so I put mine on, readable from quite a distance, "Jack", with a green background. Helen's was also green as were all of us as the subjects of this program. The counselor's badges were all blue. Ruth and Leon's were red. (The analytical part of my mind was trying to work out why this color code was chosen; I ended up just shrugging.) Helen soon followed the rest in putting her badge on as the room rustled into activity as the rest followed suit. I looked at my schedule and looked up and saw the jobs I needed to do during the days and the different women I was partnered with for each day. It was obvious that everyone else was looking at their work partners too. I was wondering how this was supposed to work; I would expect my wife to rip my lungs out for paying any attention to another woman. One woman, June, my partner for Thursday night, raised her hand and was acknowledged. "I notice that there is 40 minutes assigned to each task in each one hour period. Is this so we can catch up if we're a bit slow at it?" Ruth, the apparent mastermind, smiled at her. "No, part of this therapy is learning how to share tasks with others by talking while working. You will also be working under some physical handicaps. Bill? Your team is ready?" The therapists stood up, went to each couple, and the next thing I knew I was handcuffed to my wife. What? This caused quite a hubbub. June seemed indignant. Her husband David didn't seem so upset. All I could do was look at my wife, look at the cuffs, look her in the eye again, roll my eyes, and sigh. She and I must have been enough in tune because she did the same. Of course, my left hand was handcuffed to her right, the worst possible arrangement (I'm a lefty, she's a rightie). There was a part of me secretly pleased that she could not avoid me any more. I could enjoy this. But this displeased quite a few people in the room. Helen among them, apparently not particularly pleased being in a "trapped" state. I was still gloating over the amount of undivided attention I could get from my wife now. I could not believe the amount of whining coming from four people: Carl, Walter amongst the men and June and Peggy amongst the women. Personally, I thought this was more than a little romantic to be chained to my wife. Yes, I was too busy focusing on this one aspect that I didn't realize what was coming. Neither did the whiners, either, so there's some solace for my lack of foresight. Our own therapist (and her husband) seemed to have a secret smile that I didn't pay much attention to at the time. It took a while and a lot of pressure from Ruth to get the most vocal to finally shut up. Soon as it calmed down, Ruth picked up the narrative again. "You will be cuffed to your partner for each task. You will also be working nude, except for the few tasks, like cooking, which will require protective aprons. The extra time, as June noted before, is to provide some allowance for you to learn to work with your partner in coping with your shared handicap. We'll all meet here between assignments. Right now, though, your first assignment is with your own spouse." Naked? Me, naked? I was pretty unhappy with my own bodys' shape and that was my first thought. Then the thought that others would see Helen in all of her glory got my stomach to drop quite a bit. I finally paid attention to the noise level and the complaining which faded out as each couple's counselors went to calm them down. I guess having our own counselors here was key, since we had to build up a certain amount of trust with them, so, by this time, they knew how to get each of us calmed down. I wasn't showing my anxiety so much but I have to admit to not being the calmest person in the room. Our own therapist pressed a pair of scissors into Helen's hand. We looked around in confusion. We weren't the only ones with that "deer in the headlights" look. "Your first task is to get ready for this whole process. We'll all be nudists for the next two weeks. You need to be comfortable with yourselves and your spouse and this is the best way to arrange it. Considering you're cuffed together, you'll have to cut off your shirts and bras." I was appalled over the destruction but strangely excited at the prospect of cutting my wife's clothes off of her. This would have been a lot more fun in the bedroom but it would've been a disappointment since going farther would probably not bave been an option. I thought I saw the light of excitement in some other's eyes but I've never been that good a judge of character. I'd worn a comfortable golf shirt and, considering the heat here, that was all above the belt. Helen could have been more careful with the scissors, though, stabbing me more than once. I winced each time before our therapist stopped her. At least the shirt hadn't been special to me. "Helen, consider that he'll be cutting off your blouse and brassiere. Do you really want him to be as careless as you are being?" My wife has seldom looked so startled. She continued but was a lot gentler and more cautious while handling the scissors. My shirt had been cut up the sleeve and through the collar as well as down my left side. With a look of trepidation, she handed me the scissors, "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt you, I just wasn't trying hard enough not to." Her worry was mis-placed, of course. I'd never do anything to directly hurt her if I could help it, despite how hurt I tended to get from her words. Our therapist and her husband stood over us, nodding, as I started on Helen's t-shirt (an easy enough task) taking more care to avoid puncturing Helen than she had with me before finally snipping the one bra strap closest to me (I really didn't see why she even wore a bra considering her "A" cup breasts), and, duplicating how she'd peeled my shirt off, I peeled off both her shirt and unhooked the bra, exposing my wife's small breasts to all these other people. I was anxious. Helen was my one-and-only and I wasn't too thrilled with sharing her, even visually, with others. Three of the women here had worn dresses and now they were all wearing just panties. I looked around and seven of the men in the room were much better built in the chest than I was. Two of the three black men in the room were more than mildly daunting though their wives were quite the opposite being small and almost dainty. This felt funny being so exposed and it was funny how calm everybody was about it. Of course both men and women were looking around. The group of therapists/counselors quickly undressed to the buff (I was certainly startled) and handcuffed themselves to their own spouses. I looked more carefully and realized that all of those women showed signs of pregnancy, small bulges in their bellies. If I hadn't be distracted by the instructions to stand and strip out of the rest of our own clothing, I might have caught on sooner. We stacked our clothes in baskets that were brought to us. "You won't need anything from your clothes for the next two weeks. We've locked up your luggage and this will be kept safe for you." Once we were all standing, quite naked, bare feet and all, Ruth spoke again: "Part of these exercises is for everyone here to explore their sexuality with as many other partners as possible. You've all been screened and none of you has anything contagious. None of the women will have their period during this two week period. No contraceptives will be allowed, so there are no IUDs and none of you have had the shots. You're all quite fertile, ladies. Sometime in these next two weeks you're likely to ovulate and you'll leave here with a baby, pretty much guaranteed. By the time these two weeks are up, you will all be in much better shape as a couple so that staying together as husband and wife will be something both will share. You will all learn to love your spouse." I sagged. Compared to the men my wife would be working with I was a nobody. The probability that I could get any of these women pregnant seemed unlikely. I did see a flash of fear in Helen's eyes. "Oh, and everyone, you will be chained to your scheduled partner at 3PM each day and will sleep with them until you get chained to your next. So take a close look at your schedule." Tonight I was going to bed with Alice, so I looked around, there she was with her badge hanging on top of her breasts, at least 6'6" of tall and willowy woman. She was looking me over carefully. Her husband was a big guy too, seriously well muscled but his dick, if anything, seemed to be smaller than my own. I looked over at Helen's sheet and saw she would be sleeping with Roy, one of the well-muscled black men. His dick seemed a bit bigger than mine, which increased the sense of unease over sharing my wife sexually as well as visually. I didn't realize that it cut both ways. Next thing I knew they started a little dance-like time shuffling us around and I soon found my left wrist secured to Alice's right and Helen chained to Roy. I realized that other men were getting erections as I felt the first flush of my own. I figured that it was because I was standing next to an attractive woman other than my wife. As for my erection, it felt good to me that I wasn't the smallest here; Alice's husband Jeff was the smallest. In fact, all of the most impressively muscled men had small erections. One fellow had a dick that was easily 8" and that was the biggest I saw. My not-quite 6" was in the top of the middle third. Alice looked at it, then at her husband's, then at mine again, and smiled at me. That got me harder. I'm sure I blushed at the attention. Roy was with Alice's husband Jeff in the bottom third. His penis, so daunting flaccid, hadn't grown much in becoming erect. My wife (who I knew wasn't the virgin I'd been) did not seem as uncomfortable. We were soon herded into the Health Club's shower room, handed soap, a washcloth and shampoo and told to wash each other. There being only six shower heads, each with a stool next to it, I was in the group that got to watch the first group as they washed each other. End Ch 00 -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+