Ruoning, a married woman's confession

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

"I said I want to eat green kumquats, not these yellow ones, I want the sour ones! I don't care, I just want to eat them, go buy them for me!" Watching my husband's dejected figure walk out of the house again to satisfy my whim, I felt no joy at all.
I've lost count of how many times my husband and I have argued this week. The reasons for our arguments are always very simple, from trivial matters like groceries to daily care for our daughter and even our sex life.
This year marks our tenth wedding anniversary. We've long since gone from blushing and being shy just to holding hands to the point where we're so familiar with each other that we wouldn't even glance at each other while putting on our underwear at home.
My husband has a respectable job as a lawyer, but his appearance is inversely proportional to his abilities. He's only 1.7 meters tall, but he weighs over 160 pounds, and just looking at him makes me feel tired.
When I was young, I was the brightest star in my class. Many boys were willing to fawn over me. I could boss them around like a princess, and they would never complain, even greeting me with smiles.
"You'd better find a boyfriend and settle down soon, or all the good ones will be taken. Just settle for someone decent; life doesn't have to be perfect." This was my mother's advice to me when I was twenty-seven. I had just broken up with my American boyfriend. My classmates and friends my age were probably already mothers, while I was still aimlessly wandering the marathon of love.
Because of my own perceived advantages, I was never worried about becoming one of those so-called "leftover women." Unless I found my perfect "him," I wouldn't obediently settle down and become a docile deer.
Whether my luck was truly terrible or my mother's prediction came true, I continued my carefree life, indulging in my prince and princess dreams that seemed to have no future. Until my thirtieth birthday, I was still single.
I started reducing my social interactions, trying to avoid gatherings with friends, because every time we got together, I could feel their ambiguous smiles mocking my status as an old maid.
Even those boys who used to chase after me in school, whose faces I can barely remember, only gave me a simple greeting when they saw me. Gone was the ecstatic joy of those days; when they got together, it was all about work, wives, and children.
I felt the malice of society towards me when I was around the girls. Their conversations no longer revolved around Hermes bags or Chanel perfumes; the topics ultimately turned to husbands and families.
After that class reunion, I vowed never to attend any more of those kinds of gatherings. A man who had pursued me in college somehow got my contact information and messaged me. It seemed he was still keeping tabs on me all these years later.
My vanity was satisfied again: "See, no matter what, I'm still the most charming and vibrant rose."
In every respect, this man was only average compared to my standards for a partner, but I enjoyed being admired and didn't reject his advances, starting to try dating him.
Our relationship progressed rapidly. At his age, he wasn't a young man anymore; men like him fully understood what women wanted and what they could offer.
In just three months, my relationship with this classmate named Lei developed quickly. What he didn't know was that while dating him, I was also maintaining ambiguous relationships with other men who were interested in me, hoping to gain some security. As we
got older and met more often, sleeping together was only a matter of time. In the fourth month, Lei and I finally slept together.
"Ruoning, you're so beautiful. I liked you back in school, but I never dared to say it," he told me afterward, recounting his crush on me from school. I smiled faintly; this was something I had already expected.
"When are you planning to take me home to meet your parents?"
Lei started to get nervous; his evasive words made me uneasy.
After some time, when I brought up the necessity of both of us meeting each other's parents to confirm our relationship again, he simply flew into a rage, refusing to take me home to meet his parents.
We started a cold war for a while, and for the first time, I panicked. I'd always been the one ignoring others while other men chased after me like lapdogs. This time, Lei didn't send me a single text or call.
"Him? I think I heard from others that he recently got a new girlfriend, but I don't know much else." When I couldn't wait any longer and subtly inquired about Lei's recent activities with other classmates, I was met with a bolt from the blue. I never thought I'd be dumped, and I was so slow to realize it. "
Listen to me, have your Aunt Zhao help you find a suitable partner." My mom was probably even more anxious than me, and she started asking people to set me up on blind dates.
"This one's not bad. She says he has a respectable job as a lawyer and a very good temper. You should meet him." After countless blind dates, I met my husband, Han, a distant relative of one of my mom's friends.
Overweight, short, wearing glasses, and not funny at all, he didn't meet any of my initial criteria for a partner, except for his good temper, which was barely considered a plus.
And so we got married. Just two months after we met, we went to the Civil Affairs Bureau and got our marriage certificate. I couldn't wait any longer; I was afraid I'd go crazy.
Several times after the wedding, my husband thoughtfully drove to pick me up from work. Looking at his overweight figure, I didn't know how to explain to my colleagues that he was my husband.
My husband probably sensed my discomfort, because from then on, he wouldn't come unless I asked him.
The following year, our daughter was born. I felt no joy as a mother; it was the beginning of my nightmare.
Shortly after giving birth, due to the company's exploitative practices, I had to return to work early, leaving my mother and husband to care for our daughter.
Every time I came home exhausted after a long day and heard the annoying baby crying, I would become inexplicably irritable. I wouldn't give my mother or husband a kind look, and they tolerated it, saying nothing.
The final straw was that the company was laying off a large number of employees due to poor performance, and I was among those laid off.
An imperfect marriage, never being prepared to be a mother, and then my daughter being extremely unattractive, just like her father with her small nose
and eyes, plus being laid off from my job—it felt like all the misfortunes had been transferred onto me. I dared not confide all my bitterness to anyone; that beautiful, strong-willed princess couldn't bear even the slightest bit of cold talk or ridicule from others.
Every extra moment I spent idly at home only fueled my anger, which, when it reached its limit, would be unleashed on my husband. But he was such a nice guy, or to put it bluntly, a pushover. No matter how much I yelled at him, he seemed unconcerned and would always smile at me.
His smile was more like mocking me: "See, no matter how beautiful you are or how many people like you, in the end you still have to marry me." As the number of arguments increased, the conflict escalated until my husband remained silent while I, still seething with anger, pointed at him and cursed him incessantly, severely disturbing my mother and daughter's rest.
"Shouldn't you go see a doctor?"
My mother, speaking from experience, thought I might have postpartum depression and advised me to go to the hospital for a checkup.
Unfortunately, the final diagnosis was postpartum depression.
My life has never been darker than that period; it felt like climbing two hundred stories, slipping, and falling to the ground, shattering into pieces.
"Your condition isn't too serious yet. Try to relax and don't overthink things. Postpartum depression is quite common; there's nothing to worry about." The doctor who treated me, a man in his thirties, spoke softly and comfortably. My husband had used several connections to find him—a specialist named Liu Tao.
"Is your husband home most of the time?"
he asked, looking down at the report as if speaking to an old friend.
"He's a lawyer, he spends most of his time at the firm, he's quite busy." Liu Tao looked up in surprise, exclaiming in an exaggerated tone, "That's really impressive! I didn't ask my friend much before. He's not simple." Then she sighed regretfully, "But that's true, most cases of depression like yours stem from your own psychological pressure, plus your husband doesn't have much time to be with you, so it's easy for emotions to build up over time." At that moment, I truly felt that he was the only person in the world who understood me; it was as if he knew all the grievances and unspeakable pain in my heart.
Since becoming depressed, I rarely spoke, even to my own mother. That day in his office, it felt like I poured out everything I hadn't said for the past few months.
"You're just overthinking it. How could your husband, who married such a beautiful and gentle wife like you, possibly have other women outside?" This was a major factor in my arguments with my husband lately. I started to suspect that he was secretly seeing other women, even though I had no evidence, and his appearance didn't seem to fit the bill, but once the thought arose, it was hard to calm down.
"No, he used to talk to me a lot when he came home, but now he doesn't talk to me at all. He just lies down and goes to sleep at night. He must be having an affair." Liu Tao ignored my suspicions and instead asked me, "Is your sex life with your husband still harmonious?" His question stunned me. It wasn't that I was angry at his rudeness, but his question made me realize that we hadn't had sex since I gave birth.
Actually, my husband has a physical defect; his penis is smaller than average, and his excess fat makes it look even smaller and more pitiful.
I married him at thirty-one, the age when I was most sexually active. To be honest, he couldn't satisfy me well in bed at night, but I still had to pretend to enjoy it to save face for him.
In the period right after giving birth to our daughter, he tried to be intimate with me many times, but whenever his fat hands touched my body, I felt nauseous and extremely uncomfortable, so I refused.
Despite his repeated pleas for intimacy, I bluntly told him I wasn't interested and that he was sexually frigid, so he shouldn't bother me anymore.
My husband seemed to be sulking and hasn't touched me since. I've told Liu Tao everything; it was only our first meeting, yet I feel an inexplicable trust in him.
That evening, my husband was still busy working in his study. Thanks to Dr. Liu's therapy, my emotions have stabilized considerably, and I can sometimes joke with him. However, my body still struggles to accept any further advances, and I feel a strange sense of satisfaction seeing his disappointed expression.
"Knock, knock, knock."
I knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for my husband's reply.
"This is ginseng soup Mom made for you."
Before I could finish speaking, I saw my husband staring at me with wide, astonished eyes, looking like he'd done something wrong. My eyes glanced down and I noticed his pants were still hanging on the floor.
My face flushed red as I realized what "good thing" he had been doing in the room. After putting down the ginseng soup, I left without saying a word.
"Wife, could you..."
my husband called after me. I knew what he wanted to say, but I still told him coldly and resolutely, "Don't work too late, take care of yourself. I'm going to sleep." My husband didn't try to stop me and let me leave the room.
Yes, our sex life had reached the point of nearing its end, and divorce seemed inevitable. Neither of us dared to say it first.
"Do you have time tonight? Let's go to the movies."
Liu Tao suddenly invited me after a routine consultation.
"A movie? Just you and me?"
He nodded firmly.
"Okay, see you tonight."
I hesitated for a moment, but finally agreed. During the time I spent with him and had him treat me, we had become close friends. I knew he was married, but I inexplicably agreed to his invitation.
That evening, I dressed up carefully at home and told my husband I had a friend's party. I could see the suspicion in his eyes, but he didn't ask any further questions.
"Wow! Your dress is so beautiful, it looks great on you." "Thank you." Liu Tao and I walked into the cinema side by side. The movie was so-so, nothing special. After leaving the theater and walking out the door, he offered to take me home.
Seeing that it was still early, I suggested we take a walk. He accompanied me as we strolled aimlessly along the bustling street. I noticed that he tried to take my hand several times, but hesitated and pulled back.
But just as we were crossing the street, a bicycle sped past us. He nimbly pulled me back to prevent me from getting hurt.
This grab naturally landed on my arm, and he didn't let go. Our hands were naturally intertwined.
"I'm almost home, I'll stop here. I'm afraid..."
"I understand."
He gazed at me affectionately, his eyes full of reluctance.
"Can we go to the movies together again next time?"
I looked at him, and he waited anxiously for my answer.
I pulled my hand away from his, said goodbye, and ran home. I was afraid that if I stayed another second or hesitated another second, I would completely succumb to temptation that night.
I didn't go to the subsequent follow-up appointments. Liu Tao kept leaving me messages on his phone, apologizing for his recklessness that night. He didn't know that it was unnecessary; it was exactly what I liked about him doing.
About two weeks later, I reappeared at his clinic. When he saw me, he stood there blankly, as if he had forgotten how to speak.
We went out for lunch that day, went shopping in the afternoon, spent the evening at the movies, and naturally ended up in the same bed late at night.
"Do you love me?"
I knew I had a husband, a family, and, more importantly, a daughter. It was impossible for us to be together, but deep down, I still hoped to hear his answer.
"I love you, I love you so much."
Simple and straightforward words of love seem to be more likely to evoke emotions. His penis was also happily galloping inside me, and my whole body felt weak.
This feeling was something I'd never experienced with my husband. I was willingly conquered and dominated, my body swaying according to his will. I realized how wonderful sex could be; it had been so many years since I'd felt this way with a man.
Afterwards, a cigarette brought bliss, like heaven. I forget which ex-boyfriend told me this. Liu Tao was leaning against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips, while I nestled in his arms like a submissive woman.
"Was it good?"
Despite his refined appearance, Liu Tao was like most men in bed: violent, vulgar, and possessive of every woman. I'd seen too many men like him in my life; I knew exactly what they wanted.
"Was it better than with your husband?"
Liu Tao pressed his advantage, trying to satisfy his male vanity. Having slept with a married woman, it was natural to compare her sexual prowess to her husband's.
Without a second thought, I told him the answer, even revealing my husband's secret about his poor sexual performance. He laughed heartily, quite pleased with himself, listening to a wife sobbing in his arms about her husband's lack of sexual ability—it was both amusing and exciting.
"Why did you forget to turn off the computer?"
That day, my husband had something come up and rushed back to the office at noon. When I went into his study to clean, I discovered his office computer was still on.
I had previously told Liu Tao that my husband hadn't touched me for almost half a year, and he didn't hold back in mocking him, suggesting he might be secretly taking care of himself every night, and that there might be a lot of adult videos on the computer.
So when I saw the computer still on, I suddenly remembered his words. I wanted to see if my husband really did what he thought, having downloaded many obscene videos for backup.
Sure enough, I found them. My husband studied law and knew nothing about or was uninterested in electronics; he easily found the location of the videos on the computer.
He seemed to have a habit of marking each video with numbers and letters, making them look like work files at first glance.
Out of curiosity, I clicked on the videos to see what my husband's sexual preferences were.
Those videos were filled with scenes of whips and dripping candles, which made me feel nauseous. Closing one and opening another revealed countless male porn stars surrounding delicate female porn stars, emitting lewd and ambiguous laughter. The videos I opened afterward were all the same two types, making me even more disgusted with my husband. I never imagined his taste in pornography would be so repulsive.
Later, I told Liu Tao about this, and she told me that my husband might have unusual tastes, perhaps enjoying SM or group sex. If that were the case, my affair might be a happy thing for him.
I couldn't believe there were men in the world who enjoyed seeing their wives cheat, but after Liu Tao's professional analysis as a psychologist, and considering my husband's pathetic appearance and small penis, it wasn't impossible that he might have developed a psychological distortion because of this.
"You can test him when you get home."
I felt like I'd discovered something really fun. Those few nights, I'd dress extra sexy, watching my husband's lecherous face as he stared at me, feeling both annoyed and secretly pleased, and occasionally teasing his penis.
But when he was about to undress and get down to business, I'd feign anger and find various excuses to refuse him. My husband would instantly deflate like a punctured balloon, sitting there dejectedly. Seeing him like that, I felt a secret thrill; this revenge felt like venting years of pent-up resentment.
For a long time afterward, I toyed with my husband like this, constantly pushing him to the brink of explosion, only to push him off the cliff at the last moment. Nothing made me happier than seeing him so dejected.
My husband also underwent a huge change during this period. He often sat alone silently, and more importantly, he began to openly vent his pent-up desires and energy at home.
Before, he might have just hidden in his study watching porn to satisfy his sexual needs, but now he can take out his penis anytime, anywhere—sometimes in our bedroom, sometimes in the bathroom with my dirty underwear.
My mother even saw him once. She talked to me about it, but I made up an excuse that I wasn't feeling well. These changes in him were completely unexpected.
"Could he be becoming a pervert? His behavior seems to be," I asked Liu Tao for help. He told me not to worry, and even suggested that I subtly reveal our relationship to my husband. I started to realize what Liu Tao was planning.
A pang of reluctance crossed my mind, but I ultimately followed Liu Tao's instructions and started doing unusual things at home to attract my husband's attention.
For example, I would chat with people late at night, and when I received a phone call, I would deliberately avoid my husband and answer it in another room. I always carried my phone with me. I figured even my least intelligent husband would notice these unusual behaviors.
"Have you been having some trouble lately? You've been talking on the phone with so many people." See, this is my useless husband. He's already convinced his wife is cheating, but he just can't bring himself to confront her. I must have been blind to marry such a useless man.
I told him in a very calm tone that nothing special had happened, that everything was normal. Judging from his expression, I knew he didn't believe me, but he still didn't dare press the matter.
I told Liu Tao about this, and we both laughed so hard we were doubled over. Should I add some excitement for him? I've gone from passively to actively enjoying this game of tormenting my husband.
I started staying out all night. When my husband called, I hung up immediately. The next day when I got home, he asked about my whereabouts the night before, and I gave him a flimsy excuse. He's quite patient; he held back and didn't react.
"Let's start adding some excitement for him. I want to see how long he can hold out." From then on, I no longer hid my flirting with Liu Tao on the phone from my husband. I could also find newly bought condoms in my bag, which I had deliberately placed there. My husband's appearance had changed so much during that time that I hardly recognized him.
"I'm having an affair. You actually knew a long time ago, and you still have to ask me about it." When my husband asked me for confirmation again, I told him the whole story without any concern. He squatted on the floor, holding his head, and didn't get up for a long time.
"When did this happen? Why, why did you do this to me?" He didn't scream hysterically as I had imagined; he was just slightly agitated. I told him everything that had happened between me and Liu Tao. He was silent. I glanced at him disdainfully as he went out to his date that night.
"Maybe your husband will thank us in the end."
Candlelight dinner, champagne and roses—I took pictures of all of this and sent them to my husband, beginning his complete transformation.
That evening, when I got home, he was already in bed. After I got into bed, he stirred, and I realized he'd been awake the whole time. In that instant, I was certain he wouldn't divorce me. His every reaction was exactly as Liu Tao had predicted; in the end, he would fall in love with it all.
From then on, my relationship with Liu Tao was completely open with my husband. There was no need to hide it anymore. Our dates, our meals, our flirtatious phone calls—he knew everything. His eyes, initially filled with anger, gradually calmed until later, every time I called or dressed up to go out, he watched with the same eager anticipation as a viewer watching the lottery draw on television.
"Honey, I think I don't have enough condoms in my bag. Could you go out and buy me a few?" The unreasonable, excessive, even incomprehensible request of buying condoms for his wife's date with her mistress—which he used to make—was now something I could openly ask my husband. After a moment's hesitation, he silently went out and bought me condoms, stuffing them into my bag.
"This is the final stage."
Following Liu Tao's instructions, after our passionate encounter, I returned home around one or two in the morning. Entering the room woke my husband; he seemed preoccupied and unable to sleep.
"Wash my underwear and stockings; I need them for tomorrow."
I took out the underwear and stockings, stained with the remnants of our passion, and handed them to my husband. His hands were trembling; it wasn't anger, I could tell he was excited.
My husband didn't say a word, silently got up, put on his coat, and went to the bathroom to wash my underwear and stockings—no, I should say, wash my underwear and stockings for Liu Tao and me that very night.
"Didn't you go to the bathroom to check? Maybe he wasn't just washing his underwear." After listening to my account, Liu Tao asked a very strange question, which also provided a solution for a deeper level of our game.
I can still remember the indescribable expression on my husband's face when he saw that condom. It was the condom he had used right after Liu Tao and I had sex, and it still contained the smelly semen. I don't know if it was just my imagination, but it still felt a little warm to the touch.
My husband stared at the condom that I had used with someone else, his Adam's apple bobbed a few times, and he almost stumbled out of the bedroom carrying it in both hands. As for what he did with the condom in the end, I had no interest in finding out. Judging from his current state, I already knew that he had achieved his goal.
What surprised me was how quickly he progressed. When he opened the package in front of me, took out the chastity belt, and put it on in front of me, he locked his little bird in a cage.
I asked with a smile, "Do you like wearing it?"
My husband couldn't have been more relaxed and happy at that moment: "Wife, you are my master. Please, please give me even greater pleasure." From that night on, the chastity belt was inseparable from my husband. He even wore it to bed, and he didn't take it off when he went to work or out. Actually, I didn't instruct him to do any of this; it was entirely his own choice.
As a reward, I would occasionally bring back some souvenirs from my sexual encounters with Liu Tao for him to enjoy. He would treasure those clothes we had used, sex toys, and even the short videos we had filmed, watching them over and over again. Several times, he couldn't help but want to masturbate, but I would glare at him and he wouldn't dare.
I don't know to what extent my husband was addicted to this game, but I had fallen in love with it. Marrying him wasn't such a bad thing after all; it was the first time I had felt this way.
"Squeak~"
At one o'clock in the morning, I returned home from the hotel. As soon as I opened the door, I was startled. My husband was standing at the front door, kneeling in front of me as if he had been waiting for a long time. He was completely naked, with a cold chastity belt hanging from his lower body. He bowed his head and respectfully held a neat and clean white towel in his hands, saying, "Master, welcome back." I knew that we could never go back to a normal life, because we were about to begin a completely new experience.

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