A woman's scorn.

"What the hell is that, John?"

"It's... a penis ring, Dear."

"Disgusting is what it is. I am not letting that thing anywhere near me. Now get rid of it."

"It, uh, won't come off, Sarah."

"Well you'd better find a way, John otherwise you won't be sleeping with me again."

John gulped. That was a serious threat; maybe they weren't the most passionate couple in the world, but they'd always enjoyed a nice comfortable sex life. And this stupid thing had come between them and spoiled it! He reached down and started tugging and twisting, but all that was doing was getting him harder. Which he hadn't thought was possible considering how hard he already was. The tugging was feeling more and more like jerking off.

"John, stop it! Go and find some lubricant to slide it off with. Do I have to do all your thinking for you?"

John left the room, all of him except one part sagging.

He went to the bathroom and tried everything: soap, shampoo, body wash, even after-shave and his wife's depilatory cream. In the end he had a clean fresh minty-smelling cock, but still one with a ring on it. He'd also had to jack off – twice – in the process.

After the bathroom he went down to the garage. Grease, paint remover, anti-freeze, even gasoline; nothing worked. In the end John went back up to the bathroom and washed again so he wouldn't accidentally set himself on fire.

He tried to cut the ring off, but it had a low enough profile that he couldn't get to it with scissors and he didn't want to use shears or a box knife down near anything important.

By suppertime John was close to tears. Sarah made him supper, and ate with him. She tried to be supportive, but she couldn't work around her revulsion at that strange little object wrapped around her husband's manhood. After an evening of suggesting new ideas, she went to bed and sent John to the guest bedroom.