No More Challenges
by Bastige
Her husband reveals the truth about how he won her love.


When my husband got out of the shower, I was already naked, and waiting
for him. As he turned the corner into the living room, I shot out and
grabbed his legs as he had taught me, bearing him to the ground. He was
so surprised that I managed to get a good hold on him before he even
reacted. I pushed his face into the carpet, laughing. "Mmmmppphh!" he
yelled.

Then he applied his own strength and skill. Even though he had been
teaching me to wrestle, and even though I applied the nasty tricks I had
learned over years of self-defense classes, he was bigger and stronger
than me, and more experienced too. Slowly, my husband broke my hold and
took control, immobilizing first one arm, then one leg. The rough feeling
of his forearm against my bare groin was intensely erotic.

Gradually, my husband forced me to the ground under him. My left breast
was mashed up against his chest as he fought me down. His beautiful cock,
erect now, brushed lightly against my flank. Finally, realizing that he
was about to pin me, I used my trump card; reaching down under his lovely
cock, I took his balls in my hand.

Immediately, he let up all the pressure he had been applying to my limbs,
and we lay there, frozen in place. I was under him, looking into his
eyes, my breast pressed against his chest and one of his arms between my
legs. My heard pounded with excitement. The expression on his face was
hard to read - a mix of excitement, tenderness, and a bit of fear. He
remembered all too well the battles we had had before we had gotten
married, and what I had done to his balls back then.

Slowly, gently, he leaned down and kissed me, neither of us giving up our
holds on the other. We kissed like that for a long time, until our
muscles began to get sore and cramped.

"You have me by the balls, honey," he said to me softly.

"Yeah, I do," I answered back, feeling myself getting wet at those words.
"I can make you do anything I want."

"Yeah, you can," he agreed, smiling. "What do you want me to do?"

"Hmm," I considered for a moment. "You know that gorgeous cock of yours?"

He looked down and smiled. It was still pointing straight outward.

"Yeah."

"I want you to use it to bang the living shit out of me," I ordered
huskily.

"I think I can manage that," he replied.

With that, he released his holds on my limbs, and still holding him by
the balls, I twisted under him until my legs were around his hips, then
guided his dick into me with the hand holding his balls. He felt so good,
inside me like that, and knowing that I had full and complete control
over this magnificent creature made it feel ten times better. I kept one
hand gently around his balls as he not-so-gently fucked me. Eventually it
was just too much, and I couldn't stand it any more; I released his balls
and clawed his back as I orgasmed, and he followed a moment later.

Afterward, we lay on the floor side by side. His hand gently massaged my
right breast.

"Remember when we used to fight?" I asked. "Before we got together?"

"How could I forget?" he laughed. "As I remember it, that was what got us
together."

"First I had to knock the macho out of you," I teased him.

"Did it work?" he asked, pinching my nipple gently between his fingers.
God that felt good.

"Mostly," I decided. "I had to keep a little macho around, otherwise you
wouldn't be as sexy as you are."

"Mmmm," he murmured, doing more wonderful things with my nipple.

I rolled over and threw one leg between his legs. Quick as lightning, I
jerked the knee up so that it just gently tapped his balls. His whole
body flinched, but he didn't grab my leg or close his legs in defense. I
saw the look of fear pass over his face, and suddenly it made me love him
intensely. I leaned down and kissed him, hard.

"Remember that last time?" I asked him devilishly. "When I made you pee
all over the floor?"

He laughed. "I was scared!" he protested. "You were about to squeeze my
balls to death!"

"No I wasn't," I countered, sticking my tongue out. "I just wanted to
scare you."

"Well you succeeded," he told me, kissing me back. "And apparently you're
turned on by guys who piss themselves, because I seem to remember that
the next thing you did was throw me down and fuck my brains out."

"You deserved a break," I said nonchalantly, giving a shrug.

"I can pee all over you, if that'll turn you on," he teased.

I massaged his balls in response. "I can crush your balls again, if
that'll turn you on," I responded.

"I think it turns you on more than me," he said gently, and then we were
back to making love.

Afterward, we cuddled for a while longer, and eventually went to bed. But
what he had said stuck in my mind. "I think it turns you on more than
me," he had said. He was right - dominanting him via his balls had let me
be confident that I was always in control, that I could handle this big
athletic male creature without him hurting me. When combined with the
eroticism of nude fighting, it had been a huge turn-on. But when had he
realized that? And how had the realization changed his behavior?

That's when I started thinking about our final challenge. He had
challenged me out of the blue, claiming to be pissed about having to do
the dishes. But he had been doing dishes (in the nude!) for months by
that time, given all the times I had beaten him. At the beginning of his
servitude, he would have chafed, but why so suddenly at the end, when it
had seemed like he had been losing his macho pride?

And the fight itself. He had learned to avoid my grip on his balls from
my first and second challenges, and my kicking legs from our fourth
challenge. He had been just about to pin me, when I had...that's right, I
had kissed him. It seemed like the perfect distraction, and it had made
him let his guard down just long enough for me to grab his balls and put
him out of commission. But...

The next day, as he was getting ready, I walked naked into the bathroom
and draped myself over his body (he was in his boxers).

"Tell me something, honey," I purred into his ear.

"Mmm?" he asked, applying aftershave and doing his hair.

"Did you let me win our last challenge?"

"Mmm? Challenge?" he asked.

"The last time we fought before we got together," I reminded him softly.
"The time I kissed you. The time I made you pee, remember?"

"Yeah..." he said slowly. "What makes you think I let you win?"

"Well," I explained, "I realized that you had me down, pinned. And you
only let up when I kissed you."

"It was distracting," he agreed.

"More than that," I demurred. "It made you want to fuck me."

"Who wouldn't!" he laughed.

"So you did the only thing you were absolutely certain would get me hot."
I followed my line of reasoning to its inevitable conclusion. "You let me
grab you by the balls."

He was uncomfortably silent. We looked into each other's eyes in the
mirror, and I could tell he was embarrassed.

"And furthermore," I continued quietly, "That was your plan from the
start. You challenged me that day because you realized you were in love
with me and you had to have me."

By this time, the expression on his face had turned worried as if he were
afraid this new revelation would unravel our two years of beautiful
married bliss. Silly boy, I thought. Reaching down, I took down his
boxers and fondled his various man-parts with one of my hands.

"And the reason you peed when I grabbed your balls again," I explained,
"is because you realized that you were voluntarily giving up control over
your balls to me, forever."

"Mmm, I think I need to pee again," he breathed.

"Go for it," I urged him, and, holding his cock, turned him toward the
toilet. By now it was semi-erect, so I waited patiently while he took his
time.

Afterward he turned to face me, and I sat him down on the toilet and
straddled him, his lovely cock folded up between us.

"So," I concluded, "basically, you let me win."

He didn't deny it. "You always got so excited when we fought," said my
husband. "The one time you did that naked dance for me, and that nearly
drove me out of my mind. And the other times you kept grabbing my dick
after the match. I knew it was busting my balls that had turned you on."

"Did you let me win the other times?" I asked him levelly.

He shook his head. "That was the only time, actually. Though I had kind
of been thinking about doing it before. That was the first time I was
able to work up the courage."

Courage to let me squeeze your balls til you screamed, I thought, when
you could have pinned me and made me your naked slave for a month. I had
to admit, that was real courage.

"Are you mad?" he asked sheepishly.

"Mad?" I echoed. "Are you crazy?"

So saying, I kissed him hard, and reaching down, inserted his cock
between my thighs. He sighed. I crushed my chest against his, undulating
my hips.

"I love you," I breathed softly into his ear.

Afterward, he got cleaned up and put on his work clothes. I stayed naked,
and started dusting the house.

"What's this?" he asked.

In response I walked over and kissed him, noting how his eyes followed
the every movement of my naked body, even after two years of marriage.

"Well," I explained, "I think I owe you a month of nude servitude, don't
you think? You know, since you let me win that last time."

He laughed. "That's OK," he told me. "Forget about it. It all worked out,
didn't it?"

I cocked my hips, one knee bent, the hand holding the duster placed
jauntily on my hip.

"Well, if you absolutely insist I put on clothes, I guess I'll just have
to," I sighed.

"No, no," he protested. "On second thought, yeah, you definitely owe me."

I laughed, and kissed him on the cheek. Then, one hand on his chest, I
pushed him into a couch and stood before him, glorying in my nudity.
Wordlessly, I started to dance, like I had danced for him after the first
time I had crushed his balls. Remembering that, I felt wet between my
thighs again, and at the same time almost weak with relief that I hadn't
managed to damage him in any way.

I danced for him, and he sat there getting more and more excited, and
when I saw his pants sticking out like a tent, I sashayed over to him and
undid them, still dancing, and dragged them down once again to his
ankles. Then, kneeling down, I put his gorgeous cock in my mouth and
cradled his darling balls with my other hand. The balls he had been
willing to put through hell for a kiss from me. The balls that were his
terrible weakness and his amazing strength.

After he exploded into my mouth, and I swallowed hungrily, I pulled him
to his feet and replaced his pants. We stared into each other's eyes.

"Would you like to kick my balls?" he asked softly.

Unable to deny it, I nodded.

"Gently?" he pleaded. I nodded again.

He spread his legs. With my hands caressing his chest through his shirt,
I jerked my knee up into his groin, lightly this time, not enough to
really rack him bad. He gave a little grunt and clapped his hands over
his balls, doubling over slightly - exaggerating for effect, I was
certain. But the act had its intended effect, and I collapsed back onto
the couch, my hand working furiously between my legs.

"I gotta go, honey," he said after I had climaxed. "See you when I get
home from work." I had the day off.

I stood and kissed him at the door, his body shielding me from outside
eyes and then he was gone. I looked around the house. a month of naked
servitude, I thought, never sounded like so much fun.