The CompetitionSubmitted by: Anonymous
Kathleen and I had always maintained a competitive relationship. We met in college, where I studied physics, and she, molecular biology. This of course caused no end of debate between us as to who was smarter, and who's work would prove more important. We were also both school athletes, no Heisman's or All-Americans, but competitve again in our athleticism.
One semester, nearing our final year at college, we were both working on very similar projects leading up to our Master's Thesis. We had been casually dating for a little over a year and were constatnly trying to one-up each other. I proposed a wager. The first person to finish thier project could make one request of the loser, who would have to comply, no backing out. She readily agreed.
For the next couple of weeks we were consumed with research and sports. Then, something interesting happened. My baseball team lost it's bid for the playoffs, and my season was over. However, the Volleyball team went deep into their post-season, causing Kathleen to burn much needed project time, on games and practices. In the long-run, I finished my project well ahead of hers, and when she asked what my request was, I told her she would have to wait. After graduation, I asked her to marry me, and deal or no deal, she agreed immediately.
We spent the early years of our marriage pushing our research onto whoever would listen. The topics were vastly different, I was working on matter transfer, and energy fields, while she was working on biological nanobytes for rapid healing. Imagine our surprise when we were both contacted by the same company. Turns out they were a private sector branch of the Government, and were interested in finding a way to combine our research for battlefield medicine.
This was strange to us as instead of competing against each other, we now had to work together. This actually put a toll on our relationship, as so much was based on that competition.
It took nearly 5 years, and a sizeable chunk of Government money, but we had a working model. It was a simple design, a one inch wide strap was wrapped snug around an arm, leg, hand, foot, etc. Once secured the energy field was activated and the strap could be seperated removing the affected appendage. The seperation was marked by a silvery, solid forcefield, that was in effect a matter transfer device. Attempts to simply transport through this field had failed repeatedly, but by starting together and being seperated, it was as if it was still attached. The patient still had full use and function of the seperated appendage and could feel and react to stimuli, no matter how far away the parts were seperated.
Our first guinea pig was a soldier with a severly damaged left arm. Left alone, he would never regain use. We seperated the limb at the shoulder, and were able to release the soldier to return to limited duty. Meanwhile his arm was kept in a sterile envirenment undergoing Kathleen's nanobot treatment. The nanobots performed two functions. First they kept the muscles under paralysis to avoid movement, and then they began reconstruction of the damaged tissue. The whole process took nearly two weeks, but instead of spending all that time in the hospital and risking infection, the soldier was able to continue functioning.
Needless to say the company was beyond pleased. My wife and I were set for life, and were given supervisory positions over the branch that handled our technology. Now with very little to keep us occupied we began to realize that we had little to talk about, and even less to do together. Needless to say, I eventually hired a saucy little french maid, and my wife hired a exotic pool boy. We never spoke about or acknowledged to each other the fact that we were both having affairs, but it weighed heavily on us.
One night as I expected a visit from the maid, I was surprised that it was Kathleen climbing into bed with me. She explained that she had given the servants the night off. She wanted to see if there was a chance to save our marriage, a chance that we could find love again. That night we made love. I wish I could say it was passionate, rekindling type of sex, but it was not. It was almost....unsatisfying. I could see a solemn expression on Kathleen's face as I drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I awoke alone, with the covers pulled up. Kathleen must have tucked me in. I got up and went looking for her, but the house was empty. I headed to the bathroom to perform my morning ritual and was met with the shock of my life. Where penis and testicles should be, there was only a half inch wide strap and a silvery disc. I could still feel them. They felt like they were right there tucked into my underwear. I ran to the phone and called Kathleen's cell, but got no answer. I called the lab next and she came on with a cheerful, yet concerned tone to her voice. She explained that I shouldn't be out of bed, as the shock of the accident could still affect me.
"What accident," I screamed. She casually explained to me how I had been driving late last night when a drunk driver crossed the center line and slammed into my car. Miraculously, I was unhurt, but the maid, who was in the passenger seat, died instantly. As she explained this I looked out the window to see that my car was gone. She continued to explain that the maid was not wearing her seatbelt because she was performing oral sex on me while I drove. Unfortunately, when the accident occurred, she bit down mangling, and nearly severing my penis. Due to the isolation of the injuries, Kathleen explained, she rushed to the hospital and utilized the strap to try and save my member.
I began to scream that I hadn't gone anywhere last night. She knew that, as she had come to my bed. She casually told me to watch the morning news. On the tv I saw my car in total destruction as a stretcher and a bodybag were hauled from my car to a waiting ambulance. It was too dark to see who was on the stretcher, but I knew it could not be me.
I next asked Kathleen what her game was. She scoffed as if caring for her husband should be expected of her. When she came home that evening I was not sure what to say. I did notice that the pool boy had not returned to work yet either. When I mentioned this she simply shrugged and said he had quit the night before.When I tried to challenge her by threatening to get the hospital records, she stated that I never made it to the hospital, as I was collected by a high level Government medical professional.
When I finally got around to asking why she was doing this and what she had planned, she simply stated that I needed time to heal and that it could take quite some time, as the damage was extensive. She explained that in the meantime, I could perform normally, as it was set up to safely handle me urinating. All other functions, like sex, would have to be put on hold until it healed. I again asked why she was doing this. What did she want from me.
She reminded me of our bet, back in college. She explained how she hadn't wanted to marry me, but would uphold her end of the bargain, even though she had been at a disadvantage. She went on to explain how he had grown to love me, and how much it had hurt her when I lost interest after we had met all our goals. So she was proposing a competition..... a bet if you would. The terms were simple. I had to rekindle her love for me before she could rekindle my love for her. And, I had to do so under a handicap, much like she had to before.
If I won, she would return my manhood to me. If she won, she would keep it.
It has been one year. In that time, I have given her gifts, and performed orally whenever she requested. I have managed to hold out on saying that I love her. While she has stated that she loves all that I do for her, she has not said I love you either. She hasn't been cruel about this. I get a handjob once a month, and I got blowjobs on Valentine's Day, our Anniversary, and my Birthday, even though I still have no idea where my penis is. I have gotten the impression that the only act that would get my wife to admit her love for me, would be to admit mine for her...... an admission that would permanently deprive me of my manhood. Maybe if I get her that daimond bracelet she's been eyeing.........
Page last updated 2010-Dec-24 by: Altairboy@aol.com