My brother, huh….what can I say?! He started as the uncertain, eager to please husband and Annette, well she has reduced him to a pathetic mess. I told John that Annette was a bitch and would use him. The question now, when he came desperate to me for advice, was how to help him live that way.

John and I, we were born just a year apart. My brother is coming up 40 and I am 39. He married Annette when he was thirty and I told him then that he was a fool. Annette was a spoilt, arrogant, selfish, dominating little bitch. Forthright comment I know, but I felt that i needed to warn my big hearted brother off her. Ten years on I am proved right. The first four years Annette spent advancing her career at John’s expense. They had a daughter and it was John who down graded his work so as to be the main child carer. My brother was such a loving and a soft man that he freely became the school run man, the nursery class visitor and such like, whilst Annette got a succession of promotions and then a Maserati sports car as th company run around. The house that they lived in was Annette’s so there wasn’t much equality going on there! You should have seen them. Annette put him down in subtle ways, little comments, little expressions of disappointment or censure. John said that sometimes, in private, Annette slapped his face for him. May be he had embarrassed her in some way, been inept at a party, so when they got home she slapped his face red. Of course I asked. Did he hit her back? You should never hit a lady. It’s just so unmasculine, so ungentlemanly. But if she is dominating you? Any way, John blushed and said that he never had. He took his medicine very quietly and completely loyally.

I often wondered whether Annette cheated on my brother. She dressed very sexily, so there must have been men who wanted her. There were loads of opportunities too, she was often away on business. She spent a fortune on clothes and jewellery, so she looked pretty alluring. In the last two years though, my suspicions were confirme. There was a ‘man’ in her life. It made me wonder what John was then? John intimated at first that he put up with Annette having a ‘boyfriend’. He tried to make it sound like a hobby or something, but it wasn’t. Marcus fucked his wife. They moved in the same ‘beautiful people’ circles and John stayed home, wondering, fretting, I supposed. John looked haggard, weakened by the changing life around him. He never said much about this man, but I searched pictures in the glam press and there he was, Marcus…handsome, well dressed, somewhere in his early thirties, what you’d call a better catch than poor John.

A crisis came more than a year on when Annette wanted John to meet and to openly defer to the man. Annette insisted that it was ‘too silly’ even infantile, to go on pretending that they lived a ‘standard marriage’. She insisted that she didn’t need to divorce John (I suppose that wouldn’t look good in her circles) if he would submit to the open, the more modern marriage arrangements. Poor John, he got rather drunk one night, asked to come around and spend the night at our place. Their daughter was sleeping over with friends, Marcus was coming around to sleep the night, and he just couldn’t be in the same house as the man. Ben my husband likes John so he was OK abot the visit and I fixed coffee for a rather distraught brother wo really shouldn’t have driven the car in that state.

‘I’m not allowed to fuck Annette, haven’t been allowed to for months’ he garbled. It was all a bit intimate really. Ben left me to it saying he would return and help if needs be. A flood of //story.englishlover.net/images and questions flooded my mind. I imagined my ‘big’ brother masturbating into the sink. Sorry, that’s vulgar isn’t it, but its what popped into my mind. I could imagine Marcus fucking Annette, I could imagine their coupling….well…beautiful.

‘A woman always chooses’ I said, fearing that John migt be driven to try and rape his wife. Horror filled my mind.

It was true though, a woman always determines the etiquette of sex. If she has a headache, if she says no, then no it always must be! However jealous John was of Marcus those rules were sacrosanct. They applied even if they were wielded by a bitch like Annette.

What John did next shocked me. I thought for a moment he had lost his mind and that he was exposing himself to me!! But what he took out of his trouser fly was not a cock, it was simply flesh contorted, trapped inside a metal cage. He didn’t have to say anything. I knew what it was! I’m not a prude even if I do think conversations need to be delicate. Women emasculate men by putting their cocks in cages. i had read a woman’s magazine article about it. The cage was ‘sexy’ and ‘fun’ but psychologically, women who did this to their men were downgrading them. At the time of reading I’d tried to imagine the psychology of such caged men. I guessed that they were pliable, less self confident and assertive, they were, well, they were like John. He put his trapped cock away, apologising for the shock and admitting his utter despair. Like it or not, I had to talk intimately!

‘Are you allowed to kiss Annette?’ I asked, searching for a place to start, a platform from which to understand.

John sipped his coffee. He was trembling.

‘Never her mouth. Only her hand or….’ and he paused, ‘her cunt after she has been with him.’

‘You don’t have to use THAT word!’ I insisted. I felt my neck colour puce red.

Ben, my husband is a psychologist, he understood people, relationships. I stood, assured John that I wasn’t embarrassed (I was!) and called my husband to help us. After I had described John’s circumstances as delicately as I could to Ben, he said very quietly,

‘John’s being trained to be their cuck. He’s brought to Annette’s sex to get used to the taste and the smell of Marcus. Once he gets used to that, his horror, his distaste, then Annette will rule the house a new way. There’s been some research to suggest that a man’s masculinity is supprssed the more he tastes, smells, consume’s the semen of a competitor.’

That sounded vile- don’t you think! I mean…oh god! But Ben was telling things as he saw them.

‘John has his cock locked up, so he’s (Ben paused to find the best words) reduced to oral pleasures. He’s being taught that to submit is his only outlet.’

I looked aghast at John, and thought about him liking his wife’s semen smelling sex. I imagined Annette looking down at him, perhaps stroking his hair as he did as he was told. To my shame, I imagined the pleasure of having my pussy licked. It seemed such an arrogant, such an indulgently selfish thing.

‘Do you need to do that for Annette?’ I asked. I suppose my face registered disgust. I tried to avoid it, but it must have. I didn’t say ‘with Annette’ for it seemed an entirely submissive, a serf like thing to do.

Ben stroked my shoulder. I’m not assertive like Annette, but there are many times that I wish I could be!

‘Yes’ admitted John, his brow furrowed, this was acutely mebarrassing for him, ‘I need it…I ask for it.’

‘The addiction darling…its real, it becomes physical as well as psychological. John needs the reward of licking Annette’s sex.’ Ben was doing his best to reassure me with touch, but the words were scary!

‘I have to talk about Marcus fucking her, when I lick her’ John said and dropped his head in shame.

‘Reinforcement’ said Ben, who now seemed professionally intrigued as much as gossip interested, ‘the more John licks and imagine’s Annette’s sex with her man, the deeper he sinks.’

Ben went and made another pot of coffee. I stared at John. I asked whether he loved his wife still and he admitted that he adored her. He adored her massively. There was also the little matter of Adele their daughter, John didn’t want to lose Annette and possibly Adele as well.

When the coffee came back, rather brutally I asked, ‘may be you have to leave Annette John, this is harming you.’

Ben watched my brother. It as if he was studying him now. I sensed from his look and then his words that Ben didn’t think that walking out of the marriage was possible.

‘Or you have to learn to cooperate’ Ben said.

I winced.

‘If you show to Annette that you are submitting, that Marcus has won, and that you will meekly support them, then you salvage something. Sorry John, but it might be a question of whether something is better than nothing.’

I shot Ben such a look for saying that!

‘But that bitch could leave John and take Adele anyway!’ I snapped. I was feeling furious.

‘May be’ Ben conceded, ‘but Annette is an alpha woman, she likes to be in control. If John lines their nest, if he does all that Annette demands and acepts her lover, then she gets a reward from that. It’s not nice, but a dominant woman likes to humiliate, to control.’

John stared wonderingly up at my husband. It was like a revelation was unfolding before him, ben explaining exactly that which twisted, confused and tortured his thoughts.

‘If you stay, Annette WILL humiliate you. You WILL hav to submit to Marcus again and again.’ Ben glanced my way. This was very very difficult now. He could see how unsettled I was!

‘You’ll probably be made to suck cock. It’s a symbolic ritual, before he fucks Annette, after he has taken her. Sorry darling (Ben squeezed my shoulder) but it’s a master servant trust thing. Marcus puts his cock in John’s mouth, Annette watches. They all know what this signifies as a submission, but were John to rebel, to bite back well….’

I shuddered. Vile, vile, vile!!!

‘He’d kill me’ said John sullenly.

‘Probably’ said Ben.

I couldn’t stay in the room then, to hear the rest! I dashed out to get a cold glass of pinot from the fridge. I drank it, my hand shaking and refilled the glass. I turned on the radio and pretended to listen to that. About an hour later John went to bed. Ben came and gave me a cuddle. He said that John wanted to capitulate, to be their cuck. Ben had tested his resolve, rehearsing some consequences which I couldn’t bear to imagine. John needed to be a cuck. He was, well, instinctively, a submissive. May be, suggested Ben, our mother had been dominant and he had learned to need that? I supposed that was possible, although Freudian clap trap was hardly my thing!

Ben was amazing. He asked me then to share how Annette made me feel! I admitted some things, I was jealous of her success, secretly admiring of her no nonsense stance on many things. Annette knew Annette. Ben said that Annette was a bitch, but he asked whether bitches were always bad? It was late and the question too philosophical for me! He answered the question for me then. Bitches are only bad, if they don’t have partners, others who need to be bitched around. I had to admit that he was right. Of course he was right.

‘So you have to befriend Annette, meet and approve of Marcus’ Ben said suddenly.

I stared open mouth at my husband.

‘John cannot escape, he can only be let go of. He is Annette’s to use until she has done with him. Psychologically, he accepts that. So you…we….need to set up an environment where that is easy for her, where it is approved of.’

‘What!?’ I asked.

‘Annette is a bitch, she has always been a bitch. John married a bitch. You admire some of her bitch qualities. If you show that you approve of Marcus, compare him with John, favourably, then may be, may be, Annette will be gentle with her cuck.’

I shook my head!

‘Is what they’re doing sexy?’ Ben demanded.

‘Yes, but its wrong, its unkind’

‘Sex isn’t nice darling, sex is competitive, wriggling sperms and all. Annette is being true to her instincts.’

I nodded.

‘What do you think of how Marcus looks?’ Ben asked.

‘Dishy’ I admitted.

‘Way better than how John looks?’ Ben pressed the case. He wouldn’t let go!

‘Yes, of course’ I said testily. The comparisons were cruelly obvious.

‘Then accept the choice that Annette has made and try to help John to live a little more comfortably with what he needs’ Ben said calmly.

The next day we sent John to concede defeat and to tell Annette that he would cooperate fully. John looked strangely at peace. He seemed appreciative of what Ben had said, however clinically. If John wasn’t entirely what Ben saw as a man, then psychologically, he was still understandable. Later that day I rang Annette to invite her to coffee in town.

‘How does it all seem this morning?’ Ben asked. He smiled. He knew what a shock it had been to me.

‘Strange’ i ventured.

He raised his eyebrows as if to interrogate, ‘that all?’

‘It’s sexy, but it shouldn’t be’ i insisted.

‘Yes, it’s sexy’ said Ben, without humour, ‘when you see Annette, what will you wear?’

I looked at him. I didn’t understand the purpose of the question.

‘Wear your leather jeans, and the black leather boots’ he suggested.

I nodded. Yes…of course.