A Woman in Control - Married to my good organizer I

Married to my good organizer I

Within months of bringing Jack under my thumb, I begin to realize I have physical control, emotional control, psychological control... but not financial control. This is somewhat disconcerting. Jack makes a good salary. I am impecunious, a lowly administrative assistant... months before encountering my ‘good provider’.

So, since I am spending weekends at Jack’s apartment, supervising the many, many hours of bondage and sensory deprivation, a natural next step is to get married.

Why not? Such status won’t interfere with anything I do... I will remain sexually active... engage in multiple week night couplings... Jack will remain chaste. He’s neutered.

First, I inquire at Dr. Helstadt’s office. In observing the leashed dog boy, I have a good inkling of her clientele. I explain my wishes and she recommends a gay preacher in Greenwich Village known to cater to the souls of the New York D/s community. He certainly won’t be out of sorts when I describe my plans and request his services in a civil service of matrimony.

Next, I revive some classmate contacts from Vassar. Yes, there were other girls with penchants somewhat similar to mine... tastes and attitudes not completely in line. But we were accepting of alternative desires and lifestyles.

The first call is to a girl whose parents own a quaint bed and breakfast in a secluded Hudson Valley village. I arrange to rent the entire facility, my classmate for the most part running the operation while semi retired parents lounge in Florida.

Then come invitations, arranging my schedule, Jack’s and of course everything a girl needs for betrothal... flowing gown, flowers, caterers, etc. 

Weeks later, I inform Jack, the day before we must travel. Since he has no say in the matter, there was no point in prior discussion. Jack does what I tell him to do.

“Married? I can’t...”

I let him search for the words, his mind slowly becoming a bit addled with the hormonal imbalance.

“Can’t perform as a husband? I know that Jack. Remember who took you to see Dr. Helmstadt. Well that does not matter. You know I prefer good solid and deep penetration when I fuck. You could never satisfy me with or without a fully functioning penis. It’s best that you are emasculated.”

Constant reminders. Bold and blatant discussion of his condition. It is best. 

“We leave tomorrow. I packed for you. And Jack, for the service, I am going to have Nurse Benson remove your cock cage and control unit. Won’t that be nice?”

Other than short intervals at the clinic when Nurse Benson unlocks and removes the spiked cock cage and slips out the Prince’s Wand for cleansing, I have had Jack’s useless organ secured for months. It will never again become erect, but I don’t want him even touching it. It remains a potential source of pleasure even when forcefully made limp.  

Jack beams. No reminder charges... no naughty boy charges... no agonizing shocks for very bad behavior. A long weekend of reprieve from the imminent threat of electrical shock.

“Thank you Miss Desiree.”

“Yes, you’re going to become Mr. Desiree Montrove... and as my husband you can cook and clean and sew for me. And don’t worry about your dysfunctional little penis. It will not bother me a bit.”

He’s excited. Little does he realize that I am removing the cock cage and the battery pack steel waist belt so he can be as naked as possible for the ceremony. Dr. Helmstadt’s cock and scrotum rings will remain in place, such are permanent, but otherwise Jack will not be wearing a thing. He will be the blushing groom.

Such a wedding album I will have!