Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 
Author: Milliford Jones
Title: THE AMERICAN CREAM DREAM - PART 1 - AN IOU CUMS DUE
Summary: A hard working businessman finds satisfaction when his AA
offers him recompense for a long overdue loan
Keywords: Warning!  scat, MF, oral, rim, mdom, ped (inferred)

   DISCLAIMER

   Imagine stepping into an adult book store.  It smells like a mix of
cheap men's cologne and dark desires.  You go into a booth and see a
selection of animated movies.  Not the real thing, no real actors.  It is
anime, hentai.  It takes place in a universe where no one gets killed.  No
one gets hurt without having the hurt assuaged.  No one gets fucked up
physically or emotionally without eventually resolving it.  And love
counts. This is the fictional universe of Passions of the Perverted.

   Please note these tales are intended for adults only.  They are
obviously fantasy and have no correlation with the real world.  The
characters are likewise totally fictitious.  I neither endorse or take part
in any of the illicit acts described, except for that act of fantasy
itself, which allows for extreme imagined behavior and exploration, but
does not even begin to suggest such behavior is appropriate.

   This disclaimer is unfortunately necessary in a world where even thought
is often deemed illegal, despite the fact that exploring your desires via
fantasy is much healthier and worlds safer than much less extreme actual
risk taking behavior.

   It is with this vision and these parameters I present:

   THE AMERICAN CREAM DREAM - PART 1 - AN IOU CUMS DUE

   PRELUDE

   My name is Artemus McClain I may have been one of the final few to live
the American Dream.

   I inched my way up the workaday ladder from messenger to managing the
messengers.  Then when an opening appeared in sales, I jumped on it,
struggled with it, then finally got the hang of it, with a twist.  I stayed
honest and clean.  I developed my clientele the hard way, by focusing on
the clients' needs.  After a while, I realized that I needed formal
education to complement my hard work, so I went to school at night, all the
while jumping at every opportunity for more experience.  I became a trouble
shooter and made as many enemies as I did friends traipsing across the
country, fine tuning the operations of offices and redefining the work
culture.  As I negotiated my way way up through the corporate ranks, I got
my Associates Degree, then a Bachelors, and finally my MBA.  I moved from
sales into management, then senior management.  After 25 years, I was
promoted to Chief Executive Officer of the firm.

   Here's the sad part, after doing my fair share of grunt work, and then
riding a desk for so many years, I had a case of hemorrhoids that just
wouldn't quit.  I don't mean to be gross, but after wrestling with it
through medication for several years, about six months ago I gave in and
had an operation.  They trimmed off all the bad tissue and left me with an
asshole that's never quite closed.  What that means is I have to be very
careful about holding my shit.  If I wait just a bit too long I get a nasty
involuntary surprise.  I learned that the hard way, and I didn't like the
lesson.

   If all this gross background hasn't already driven you away, this story
isn't about business.  It's about sex.  Nasty sex.  I was a family man for
years, loved being a husband and a dad, even when that combination of roles
meant sexual activity lessened with every passing year, month and day. 
Still, it was my family that kept me human.  That didn't save my marriage
though.  When the kids left home, so did the wife.

   What bothered me most is that it didn't really hurt.  There just wasn't
that much to hold onto.  She went her way and I went mine.  At the time of
this story, I'd been living by myself for five years.  In that time I found
that women really are attracted to powerful men, and I was able to explore
a wide range of sexual proclivities in the process, much more than in all
my years of marriage.  Thanks to one particular freaky subservient intern I
hooked up with, I was surprised to find I loved toilet games.  Mind you, I
was a feeder, not an eater.  I degraded my women and they seemed to love me
for it.  That's not as unusual as you might think, because there are a
wealth of women who take the submissive role to heart when they are
involved with a man who wears tailored suits and hand-made shoes.  Many of
them take their roll to the extreme.  I found I enjoyed that as well.  I
had fed my piss and shit to some beautiful sophisticated women, and learned
to enjoy being rimmed out thoroughly and repeatedly, but that had all
stopped short once the operation took place.  I had been out of circulation
ever since.

   Which finally leads me to the beginning of my story.

   AN IOU CUMS DUE

   I was sitting in my office, looking over my schedule for the day and
found a rarity.  A day with no meetings, site-visits or business trips.  I
happily sat back in my chair and chuckled to myself.  This was as close to
freedom as I would ever get.

   Then I realized this was the perfect opportunity to confront my AA over
a personal matter that had been hovering between us for much too long.  I
picked up my phone and pressed her number.

   "Yes, Art?" she asked.

   "Dorothy, could you come into my office?"

   "I'll be right there," she answered and I could see through the glass
wall as she picked up her notepad and smiled over at me.  Ever the good
soldier, she practically marched into my office.  Once she was inside, I
said, "Lock the door please.  This is confidential.  I don't want us to be
interrupted."

   Dorothy tensed up a bit, but did as I asked.  Then, before she could
move to sit down, I added, "And draw the curtains.  This is a personal
matter we need to resolve." She froze then, suddenly unsure of herself. 
Even so, she pressed the buttons on the wall that closed the blinds. 
Within fifteen seconds, we had the privacy I deemed necessary for our
confrontation.

   I did not ask her to sit down and she didn't move to do so.  She stood
before my desk and waited for me to speak.

   "Dorothy," I started, "More than two years ago, you asked me for a
personal loan.  A significant one.  Two-thousand five hundred dollars.  It
was a lot, but I trusted you.  We had already been working together for
five years and seemed to have a good working relationship.  But to date,
you have only paid back two hundred dollars, and that was from your
Christmas bonus right after I loaned the money to you."

   Dorothy reddened, "I know, Art, I meant to pay it back, but when my
divorce finally came through, I didn't get nearly as much as I expected. 
I've been struggling ever since to keep the house paid for and the kids fed
and in school.  I am so sorry."

   I stared at her with a look so cold I think the temperature in the room
dropped.  "That's not acceptable," I said.

   I saw tears start to form in her eyes and said, "Don't worry.  I'm not
firing you.  You're much too good at your job for that.  But I don't
forgive you either.  I'm angry and I feel betrayed.  Going forward, I
expect you to do your job as efficiently as ever, but I'm tired of
pretending to be friendly and courteous to someone who has taken me for a
fool."

   She was sobbing now and I was glaring at her, letting loose two years
worth of frustration on her.  Her story didn't really hold water.  I would
have accepted a paltry payment of ten or twenty dollars from each monthly
paycheck, just a gesture of good faith, and by now I'm sure I would have
told her the balance was forgiven.  But after the first payment from her
Christmas bonus, she seemed to ignore the debt.  Sure, she had had
difficulties.  So had I.  So had everyone I know, but that loan had been
made based on trust and friendship.  No contract or legalities, just a
handshake.  So much for handshakes.

   "So sorry...." she was blubbering, but this one time I hardened my heart
and said curtly, "That will be all, Dorothy."

   I pressed the button on my desk that opened the blinds and put on my
reading glasses, turned my attention to my computer monitor, and ignored
her.  When I looked back up, she was gone, my office door was open and
there was an eerie silence in the office at large.  I had no doubt everyone
in the office had seen Dorothy, tears flowing, slink from my office and
head to the ladies room.  The rumor mill would be running overtime for the
next week or so.  I didn't care.  I did what I felt had to be done.  I had
to lance the boil that had been festering for so long.  That done, I could
get back to the business of business, no longer worried about treating my
ingrate of an administrative assistant with a kindness she no longer
deserved.

   When she finally made her way back to her desk, she had dried her tears
and straightened her make-up.  Her normal friendly demeanor was replaced by
a quiet depression.  I continued to ignore her through the day, thinking
this was a perfect day for this confrontation, quiet and uneventful.  Let
her fester for a bit, I told myself.

   As the day wound down and the office began to empty, I saw her grab her
purse and coat as if to go, but instead of leaving, she stepped to the door
of my office and said ever so softly, "Do you have a minute, Art?"

   I leaned back in my chair and said coolly, "Sure.  What is it?"

   She stepped in and closed the door behind her, locking it.  That
surprised me a bit, but even more when she nodded at the glass walls and
asked, "Do you mind?"

   I hit the button on my desk to close the blinds and waited for the walls
to become opaque.

   "Yes?" I asked, unsure of what was to follow.

   She put down her purse and draped her coat over the back of a chair,
then sat down and placed her hands on top of the desk.  "I can't tell you
how bad I feel about the money I borrowed," she said.

   "Yes," I answered noncommittally, very careful not to exhibit any
emotion at all.

   "I only have 500 dollars in the bank.  That's all I have right now, but
if you want it, I'll give it to you."

   "I don't want your money, Dorothy," I answered.  "This has never been
about money.  It was about trust, friendship and integrity.  Now its about
betrayal and trickery."

   She started to tune up again, ready to cry.  "Then what can I do?  Art,
I will do anything for your forgiveness.  Anything?"

   I grinned grimly, "Anything covers a lot of ground Dorothy.  Don't you
mean anything within reason?"

   "No," answered Dorothy.  "I mean anything.  Absolutely anything.  Just
let it be like it was before."

   I looked into her eyes.  She meant what she said, or at least she
thought she mean it.  "It can't be the way it was before," I ventured.  "If
I take you up on this offer of 'anything', we will have to become closer
and more intimate than our working relationship has ever been.  Your duties
would have to extend far beyond your present job description.  In fact, we
can't even discuss or describe my desires and expectations, if I take you
up on your offer."

   "I don't care," Dorothy choked on her tears.  "For the past seven years
this job has been the only thing I can count on.  You have been the only
person I can count on.  And I can't begin to forgive myself for trying to
take advantage of you."

   I measured her from my desk chair.  This was a truly unexpected turn. 
For the first time in all the years I'd known her, I looked at Dorothy as a
potential sex partner.  She was an average looking 33 year old woman. 
Pretty enough, but not gorgeous.  A tad overweight.  She could dress up
well enough for a business party, but after a tough weekend of playing
super-mom she could show up on Mondays looking a little frumpy and unkempt.

   But extending far beyond her looks, she was dedicated and loyal.  I knew
for a fact she had turned down four job offers in the time she had been
with me, and that didn't count the offers I didn't know about.  I also knew
the two of us had become quite close in our employer/employee relationship.
We knew about each other's lives and families.  In fact, she probably knew
me better than anyone at this point in my life.  That made her betrayal
hurt even more.  She was the only person who was aware that I had had a
series of affairs with dark-souled, subservient women and had even
facilitated my schedule to accommodate my odd assignations.  She had to
know what she was getting into making this offer.  I decided to take a risk
and test her.

   "You really truly mean this?" I asked.

   "Yes," she said, raising her eyes to mine for the first time today.

   "Then show me your tits," I said flatly as I pushed away from my desk,
unzipped my fly and unveiled my semi-hard penis to her view.

   I knew this was a moment of truth.  She would either balk or submit.  I
was betting on the latter.  I hadn't had any pussy for six months and I
figured it was time to break my fast.  Dorothy froze for just a microsecond
upon seeing my prick for the first time, but then she quietly unbuttoned
her blouse, opened it, and unfastened her bra to reveal a pair of lightly
freckled, but perky titties with small pink aureola and even pinker erect
nipples.

   I was pleasantly surprised.  Her tits were a little on the small size,
but they didn't droop at all.  I felt like I'd just had a winning roll of
the dice.

   "Sweet," I said, and began stroking my cock more vigorously.  Dorothy
licked her lips as she watched me jack off.

   "I know they're small," she said, fishing.

   "They're perfect.  Your nipples beg to be bitten," I said, then added,
"Let me see you pinch them, those pink little nipples.  Make them hurt a
little."

   "I'll do anything you want," she offered as she clamped down on the pink
little berries and winced.  "Anything."

   "Then get over here and suck my cock," I said.  "I want to fuck your
pretty face."

   Dorothy scrambled over to my chair and nestled between my spread legs.
She enveloped my penis in her mouth and swallowed me whole.  I felt her
throat ripple around my cock and heard her gurgle as if this was the way
she wanted to live and die, with my cock buried in her throat.  I grabbed
her by the back of the head and hunched into her mouth, smacking my balls
under her chin, fucking her face, grinding my cock head deep into her
gullet, using her.  I saw Dorothy reach down, raise he skirt and reach into
her bright red panties, diddling her pussy as I used her for my personal
cum dump.

   "Fuck that cunt, you sweet bitch," I whispered hoarsely.  "I want to
smell your hot pussy while I cream your mouth."

   Dorothy must have liked what she heard because she dug into her cunt
with a viciousness.  We were both stifling our groans, but that did not
stop me from fulfilling my desires as I started pumping a steady stream of
slimy cum into her belly.  The air was permeated with the scent of her
steaming cunt now.  She was getting off on my cum, on being my slut.

   She was messy with throat slime and gasping for air when she sat back on
her heels.  Her face and breasts were flushed with exertion and desire.  I
stared down at her as she looked deep into my eyes.  "You still mean
anything I want, Dorothy?"

   She coughed, then reiterated "Anything.  I know you, Art.  I know what
you like.  I'll do anything for you, anytime, anywhere."

   "Then open your mouth again," I said.  "I need to piss."

   Dorothy grinned up at me."Yes," she said, "That's what I've been waiting
for, what I want," and opened her mouth wide, laying the head of my dick on
her waiting tongue.  It had been a while since I'd used a woman like this,
but it was well worth the wait.  I moaned softly as I released my bladder
and let my urine flow into my AA's passive waiting mouth.  As soon as I
started pissing, the woman sealed her lips around my dick and drank down
the golden elixer as if it were a sweet wine.  She gulped and gurgled as I
closed my eyes and murmured, "Jesus, Dor, your old man must have been a
total fool to give up your talented mouth.  Fuck, if your pussy's as good
as your mouth, I'll marry you."

   I didn't really mean that, or at least, I didn't think I did, but any
woman who pleasured a man as well at Dorothy did and did so willingly,
deserved some serious accolades.  For her part, Dorothy wasn't deterred by
my complimentary offer, she drained every fucking drop of piss from my
peter.  Only after my penis started to re-harden in her mouth did she pull
off.

   She held my prick to her lips so they brushed against it when she spoke
and looked up at me as she said, "I never drank Elijah's piss.  I offered,
but he wasn't interested.  He wanted an innocent, conservative church-going
wife.  Towards the end, he even admitted if he wanted perversions, he would
go to a prostitute.  He knew I worked closely with you, making arrangements
for your personal life, not just office business, and assumed I got my
crazy ideas from you.  He even accused me of fantasizing about you all the
time.  He said you had corrupted me.  He told me he had lost all respect
for me, knowing I even considered cheating on him." She kissed my cock like
a lover, tonguing the small piss opening and said, "Of course he was right.
I wanted you, or I wanted him to be more like you.  He wanted something
else."

   "Idiot sonofabitch," I commented, rubbing the head of my dick over her
adoring face.  "He could have had heaven and chose a boring bullshit
existence instead." Then I stopped and she opened her eyes.  I could see
question marks in her eyes as I looked at her looking back at me, gauging
the moment, the situation, my own desires and her willingness to please me.
"I want you to eat out my asshole," I told her.

   Her eyes flashed, her nostrils flared and she hurriedly reached up to
unbutton my slacks, unbuckle my belt, pull down my pants and underwear, and
pull them off completely, then I watched as she wriggled her way between my
thighs, pulling my legs over her shoulders and my ass halfway off the
chair. I felt her spread my ass cheeks apart and I warned her, "It's likely
to be messy down there.  My operation..." was all I could get out before I
felt the absolute exquisite sensation of her tongue lapping at the
sensitive nerve endings of my open asshole, then her hungry probing into my
rectum.

   "Oh," was all I could mutter.  She had most of my weight on her
shoulders now, and I couldn't move or position myself, but there was no
need.  Dorothy sucked out my ass like this was known territory.  She ate my
shit hole as if born for it.

   I was little more than a mass of moaning protoplasm when she pulled back
and looked up to me.  "I ate some of your shit." she said flatly.  "I
sucked your butt hole and sucked out your dirty filthy ass."

   "I'm not sorry," I said between breaths.  "Get used to the taste.  I'm
going to feed you my turds till your belly swells."

   "I know," she answered with conviction.  "I like it.  I want it."

   Something about the way she said that made me want to test her more.  I
knew this was relationship was already in the realm of extreme intimacy,
but I felt driven to take it even further.  I broached a subject I had
never even considered before.

   "How old are your girls, Dorothy?" I asked.

   "Six and three," she answered.  She seemed to understand I was veering
into even deeper depravity.

   "Will you let me molest them?" I asked, as if I wouldn't be content
unless I took her further than she wanted to go.

   "I'll help you," she answered.  "If you want to fuck my little girls,
I'll hold their tiny pussies open for you.  I'll bury their angel faces in
your back-side and tell them to suck your shit.  Is that what you want? 
I'll do it."

   I stared at her.  This woman I had always considered the epitome of
propriety was offering up her children to me.  Children I'd never met but
only seen photos of.

   I wrestled myself away from Dorothy, got my balance back, pulled up my
slacks, stood up and buckled my belt.  I then drew her up to stand before
me.  I kissed her lovingly.  "Okay, Dorothy.  I forgive you," I said. 
"Tomorrow we can go back to business as usual."

   "No!" gasped Dorothy, now clinging to me.  "Don't forgive me.  Never
forgive me.  Use me like you just did.  I love to eat your shit for you,
drink your piss.  I want to give my babies to you.  I want to have your
baby and help you use it too.  Please, let me be yours."

   Hearing her sincerity, seeing the depths of her desired degradation and
perversions I realized why her husband had left Dorothy.  The bitch was
bat-shit crazy.  I also reaffirmed my belief he was a fucking idiot.  I had
been lucky enough to peel off her day-to-day facade and discover her desire
and willingness to surrender her body and soul to a man who would both use
her and protect her.  I was not about to give this up for the mundanity of
a 'normal' woman.

   I held Dorothy close and kissed her forehead, then when she turned her
face up to me, I kissed her lips, then explored her open mouth to take
possession of her.

   "Very well," I conceded.  "Starting now, this very moment, you are mine.
You, your children, your bodily functions, your love and desires, belong to
me."

   She was crying again, but this time it was obvious her tears were
combined relief and joy.  "Yes," she murmured.  "Yes, yes, yes."

   I kissed her again gently.  "Very well," I said.  "You go home, pack up
some clothes and other necessities, and I will send a car for you about 8
o'clock.  Then you and your girls come to my townhouse.  Tonight we will
begin our new life.  You, your girls and me."

   Dorothy clung to me as if she were afraid to let go, as if the dream
would dissipate and fade.  I forcefully pulled her arms from me and stepped
back.

   "Don't worry, Dorothy.  Everything will be okay.  Just do as I tell you.
You and the girls will probably have to take a day off from work and school
tomorrow after what you go through tonight, but your job is secure and the
girls will need to change schools anyway since you'll be living with me
from now on."

   Disbelief swept over Dorothy's face.  "You mean...I thought it would be
just tonight."

   "No," I said.  "Every night.  I expect you to take care of me, and I
expect your girls to do the same.  It's just like you said.  Your girls are
mine to do with as I please, just as you are."

   "Yes, we are," Dorothy quietly acquiesced.

   "Think about it," I said.  "Of the implications.  You have until 8 p.m.
to change your mind.  If you show up at my house tonight, your cunt, your
children's precious cunts, asses and everything else belongs to me, and
then there's no turning back."

   "No turning back," Dorothy breathed and started towards me but I put my
hands up to ward her off.

   "Go home," I said.  "I expect to see you later.  If not later, then
tomorrow morning here in the office."

   Dorothy looked worried as I helped her get her clothes back in order and
watched her head out the door.  As soon as she was gone I contacted a
company driver and asked him to pick up Dorothy and her girls and deliver
them to my townhouse.  Then I put my pants back on.

   I tidied up my desk a bit and decided that this had been one of the most
personally productive days I had ever had, despite it being a blank spot on
my business calendar.  I would always remember the day when Dorothy's IOU
came due.
   ~to be continued~