D-I-Y

CHAPTER 1—D-I-Y

I’d been a do-it-yourself nut most of my life, starting more than forty years ago when just a teenager. There wasn’t much I couldn’t do—plumbing, electrical, tile, roofing, sheetrock, even concrete and masonry work—even though I can now afford to have others handle these challenging tasks. About two months ago I picked up a new d-i-y skill—CBT—cock and ball torture.

No, I wasn’t some sick masochist who wanted to get his cock or balls mashed or crushed. I enjoyed having my scrotum stretched, seeing the slick shiny skin, almost translucent with my testicles just below the surface. Unfortunately, I couldn’t just buy CBT equipment online; I doubted my wife would understand. So I made my own—everything I needed I found at Home Depot. First I cut two thin boards, quarter inch by one, about five inches long, drilling a hole in each about one-half inch from the end. I used two carriage bolts two inches long with a small, but strong spring between the boards, finishing up with a metal washer and wing nut for each bolt. Once I had sanded and painted the wood I was ready. I put the rear board behind my sac, attached the front board, washers, and the wing nuts, adjusting the span so the device wouldn’t slip off my balls. I used a metal hanger, like the ones I always get from the dry cleaner to make two elongated S-hooks. A small loop was slipped over the carriage bolt, a large hook at the other end would hold one or more lead fishing sinkers, depending on how much I felt like stretching my sac. I always did this when I knew my wife would be away from the house. I was sure she would think I was weird.

One Saturday afternoon when I knew she would be gone for several hours I retrieved my CBT kit from the workshop. I laid everything on the kitchen table and stripped. I adjusted the stretcher and had just added two 8-ounce sinkers, savoring the weight on my sac, when I thought I heard a noise behind me. I turned to find Helen, my staid wife of almost thirty years holding her phone. I had just finished turning when I heard the “click”—she had taken my picture!

“Just a sec, dear—I want to send this to my email.”

“Why,” I asked.

“Just in case I need it. Hopefully, I won’t. You know, dear, just this morning I was thinking how bland our sex lives had become, but now…. Just think of the fun things I can do with you…the fun things I can do TO you.” She walked the five steps to me, bending down to examine my balls. She flicked each one with her finger. I grimaced slightly from the pain. She reached onto the table, selecting two additional 8-ounce sinkers. She dropped them onto the hooks, doubling the stress on my sac. She examined my balls closely before flicking again. “You like that, do you?”

I could barely whisper through the pain, “Yes.”

“Hmmm, excellent, now, darling, there are some packages in the back seat of my car. Do be a dear and bring them in for me.” I started to remove the device, but Helen told me, “No, no, leave that on. I want to see it on you all afternoon.” I walked awkwardly to the car, realizing only when I reached the garage that she had left her car in the driveway. I was naked with two pounds hanging from my balls. Tentatively, I looked out to find the area deserted. I scooted as quickly as I could, which was none too quick under normal circumstances, retrieved the packages and hurried back into the garage.

“This is silly, Helen, I’m taking this off before I get caught.”

“Darling, you’ve already been caught. I’d hate to send that photo to the wrong email address. It wouldn’t do you any good–after all you are a judge. What would everyone think—a judge running around in some BDSM gear, although I must say it’s as clever as most of the things you dream up, and just as effective. Now, Martin, just behave and go along with me and we’ll have a lot of fun together. But, if you cross me… well, you can imagine.”

“But, Helen, you’re my wife. If you hurt me you’re just going to hurt yourself in the bargain.”

“That may be, but I’ll destroy you, won’t I? And then I’ll get more than my share in the divorce settlement. I’ll be the poor innocent wife—the victim of a demented perverted husband. Won’t I look perfect as the victim? No, Martin, you’ll be much better off following my orders, just like I’ve had to follow yours all these years. Any idea what it’s like being married to a brilliant jurist like you—a person who is rarely, if ever, wrong? I’m a smart person, Martin, but who ever notices me? Nobody, that’s who, but now you’re going to notice me. You’re going to do whatever I tell you. If I were to send that photo to the Post, or the Times you’d be the laughing stock of the city. You might even get fired—who knows?”

I turned from Helen wondering how all this had gotten out of control when I noticed the bright light streaming in through the kitchen windows behind me—behind where I was standing earlier. I smiled, knowing something about photography that Helen obviously didn’t. All the same I thought I’d play along just to see where this went.
“Martin, follow me into the bedroom, please. See—I’m being nice even though I could just as easily be bossy and mean. I want to get you into the bathroom. I’ve never been an admirer of all your body hair and now I can do something about it.” I followed meekly down the hall. Helen preceded me into the bathroom; she took a good-sized hand towel from the rack and put it into the basin, filling it with hot water. When it was hot enough she wrung it out and placed it on my abdomen. I was told to hold it in place while she retrieved the other things she would need.

I stood in the tub while my pubic hair was first cut short and then shaved bare as a baby’s behind. Helen finished the job by rubbing some soothing lotion into my skin. Then I turned around and she repeated the process with my ass, even shaving around my anus. Now this did feel weird, but Helen wasn’t done yet. She continued all the way up to my neck—front and back—before shaving my arms and legs clean, as well, adding the lotion when she was done. I had to admit there was a certain sensuality to the feeling it gave me. Finally, Helen removed the ball stretcher and shaved my scrotum clean. When done she again attached the stretcher to my scrotum, taking several minutes to rub and flick my balls. The pain was exquisite, but it made me hard—probably as hard as I’ve been in more than ten years. “Come along, dear, we really must do something about that hard cock. I know your schedule makes it difficult to find time for sex, but, now that you’re mine you’re going to make the time, aren’t you?”

“Yes, my love, I really have been neglecting you. I apologize and I’ll do better in the future. You really don’t have to blackmail me, you know. I’m always pleased to service you. You know I love to make you cum.”

“If you love it so much, Martin, why is it that we haven’t made love in over a month? Count on doing it every day from now on—every day, and probably more on weekends. You’ll use every part of your body to make me happy—oh, God, cumming every day! What a delicious thought!” Helen led me to our bed, pushing me down so my feet remained on the floor and my balls retained the heavy weights pulling against them. My hard cock stood as vertical as a flagpole. Helen quickly stripped down to nothing. Her body was much as it was when we first met. Sure, she was twenty pounds heavier, but her weight went to all her best parts—her breasts were fuller, more sensual; her hips broader, her ass rounder, but still firm. She pushed my head down on the bed as she climbed over me, straddling my chest. “I think you know what I want. Do a good job and I’ll take good care of you—deal?” I nodded a smile on my face.

I pulled her toward my mouth as I extended my tongue. I licked slowly up the edges of her beautiful cunt. Helen was right—our sex life had all but disappeared as my career had progressed. Now as a Federal Court of Appeals Justice the demands on my time were enormous. I’d have to find the time for Helen—she seemed to think she had me by the short hairs, and, maybe she did. I moved my attention now to her wet musky slit where I was instantly rewarded with a flood of her nectar. I sucked on her labia, engorging them as her passion rose. When I thought she was ready I began to fuck her with my tongue, searching for and finding her G-spot. Helen responded, grinding her cunt into my face faster and harder as I moved now to her clit. Helen had a big one—more than an inch in length protruding from its protective hood. I sucked on it like a miniature cock, taking it between my teeth and licking around the “head.” When I nibbled I brought her over the edge. Her orgasm was accompanied by a flood that quickly covered my face. I eagerly licked her juices from my lips and cheeks as she collapsed on top of me.

It was several minutes later that she spoke, “Wow, Martin, you haven’t made me cum like that in ages. I suppose now we should address that big problem you have.” She slid from my body to sit next to me. “Here’s what we’ll do. I want you to stroke your cock and make yourself cum. I’m going to play with and flick your balls. The longer you take to cum the harder it will be, so I hope you’re horny. I don’t want to hurt you…too much. Let’s get started.” I wrapped my hand around my erection, noting how hard and hot it felt. Then I felt Helen lightly flick her nails against my poor balls. I’d better get going or I was going to hurt badly. It had been a long time since I last jerked off, preferring to fuck or have Helen blow me. I ran my hand up and down my cock, gripping lightly as Helen gave me another flick—harder this time as promised. Now I was stroking furiously, hoping to avoid any further punishment to my scrotum. It was enough to have three pounds straining my balls, but the little touches Helen gave me seemed to be magnified by the weight. I gripped my cock tighter now in the hope of accelerating my orgasm, but Helen wasn’t to be deterred. She actually slapped my balls this time resulting in a sharp gasp from my lips. Thank God I was getting close—I could feel my balls clench. I erupted, shooting a huge fountain of cum onto my chest and stomach just as Helen smacked them again. Six times I shot, panting wildly as I did until I was done. I hadn’t cum anything like that ever.

“’Well,” Helen began, “I’d say that was a success, wouldn’t you, Martin?”

“Yes, but my balls are aching. Can I take it off now? It’s really hurting me.”

“Very well, you sissy, but get used to it. You’re going to wear it every day and I’m going to increase the weight. I’ll bet you can handle much more than you think.” I stood, loosened the nuts and allowed the weights to slip to the floor. My balls were swollen and red from the abuse Helen had given them. It was a relief to be free of the weights. “I think I need a shower,” I told her, “and when I get out I’ll be happy to take care of you again.” Helen smiled coyly, “OK that sounds great. Do I get to choose how?”

“Sure, why not?” I turned to the bathroom, hoping to get there before I leaked cum all over the expensive mauve carpet. The shower refreshed me and I had to say the lack of body hair was a huge turn-on. I ran my hands over my smooth soft skin. When I turned in the shower I noticed Helen giving me an approving smirk. I ran the towel over my body quickly and eagerly; I couldn’t wait to get back to my wife—to have the chance to satisfy her over and over, to make up for my neglect over the past several months.

Helen was lying in bed when I exited the shower, her large D-cup breasts heaving in anticipation. I could see tiny droplets on her glistening cunt. I lay next to her taking her head into my hands. I leaned in to kiss her—tenderly at first, my tongue teasing, entering her mouth but just barely as I encouraged her to respond. In seconds her tongue was in my mouth hungrily searching out mine. Our passion grew as our lips mashed together. I moved my hand to her breast, massaging and kneading gently. “Harder,” she whispered, “Pinch my nipples…twist them in your fingers.”

I had told her I would do as she wished so I forced her spongy nipple between my fingernails, pressing firmly. When I released her I rolled it between my fingers as she groaned into my mouth. “Get on top of me, Martin. I want to use your cock to masturbate myself.” I rolled over her, moving up so my cock head was over her clit. She gripped my cock, rubbing it several times to ensure its hardness. She brought the tip to her slit, moistening it in her juices before moving it to her clit. Vigorously she rubbed it into her clit. Her motion was almost the same that I had used to jerk myself off earlier and I felt myself getting warmer, my cock swelling in excitement.

“Oh, Helen, I think I might….” I had promised it would be for her, but would she object if I got off, too?

“Go ahead, Darling. I want it to be good for you, too.” She strengthened her grip on me. I wanted to help her so I dropped my head to her nipple, suckling like a baby while my hand explored her other fleshy orb. I balanced on my left hand; it was easy—I spent almost half of every lunch break in the courthouse gym, a facility that was only open to judges and court officers. As senior judge I was able to take my choice of equipment whenever I wanted it. I never even had to ask, in fact, when I entered the gym almost everyone else left out of respect for my position and the limited time available to me.

I noticed Helen raise her head so I moved my lips to hers for a long and extremely passionate kiss. She whispered to me, “I’m almost there, Darling; will you cum for me, too?” All I could do was grunt.