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Message-ID: <42847asstr$1055059802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Jack C Lipton <jcl@penrij.uucp.jtan.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Ecstatic Cling [00/12] Orientation (nosex slow intro bond(light))
Date: Sun,  8 Jun 2003 04:10:02 -0400
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Author: Jack C Lipton <cupasoup@softhome.net>
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 $
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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

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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