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From: dantedibby@aol.com (Dantedibby)
Subject: <500 words:  Cream by Seurat


    I gotta get a sig at the beginning of the post so I don't have to
keep typing stuff over and over.  Here goes.

    Here's my second story (third post) and it happens to be for
Celeste's most recent competition.  If you like it, please let her
know (info on the contest can be found on a.s.s.m.)  If you don't like
it, lie and tell her you did.  For some strange reason I would like to
win this thing.


    Don't read this blah blah blah if you're under eighteen yadda
yadda yadda or there is some other reason you shouldn't.  You should
know by now if you're mature enough to read it.


Cream, by Seurat



    Rain patters against the evening window, and my mind drifts off
again.  I try to focus, to bring myself back to the real world, but
the events of the past months flashed through my brain uncalled for.

    Expressing to my wife that I wanted her to occasionally take the
lead was probably not the hardest thing I had ever done in my life;
getting her to do it was.  I let her know I didn't want the polygamous
relationships so often expressed in stories, but that there were other
things I wanted to try.  She caught on quick...too quick.

    Weekends became hers.  I revelled in serving her as a slave.  Our
scene was kept within the confines of our own lives; anything done
outside the house was not exposed.  Our sex life became varied and
very satisfying.

    It was only a few weeks ago she introduced me to her doctor
friend.   I thought it was platonic, but that night I received my
first dose of hormones with my dinner.  At least, it was the first
dose she told me about.  By then, I was addicted to the piggyback
drug, and she was merely upping the dose to a more suitable level.

    The hormones have changed my body to something a little more along
her desires.  The guys in the office noticed my behavioral changes,
and the women thought they noticed the physical changes.  It wasn't
until the time at the gym that things were confirmed.  Now nobody
knows what to make of me.

    A noise snaps me back to reality.  It's her, my mistress, visiting
her bound slave upstairs while her friends play bridge downstairs.
She has been visiting every fifteen minutes since the group got
together this morning, and I'm red and raw because of it.  My eyes
follow her as she takes off her sun dress to reveal the white leather
dom outfit beneath.   Collar.  Corset.  Boots.  The spike heeled kind.
All just for me.  She grins at my predicament, tied spread eagled on
the bed.  My body reacts involuntarily to her sexual manner, and she
grasps my now sore but erect cock for the umpteenth time today.  Her
hand and mouth work me quickly to a gushing orgasm filling her mouth,
which she spits into a mug, half filling it. Satisfied, she picks up
the dress and turns to leave, but stops at the door.

    "Those pills really have done the job, haven't they?  I'm so horny
now for that eleven inches of meat; it fills me much better than that
old six inches you used to have.  Unfortunately, I have to get back.
I just came to get some cream for Marna's coffee.  Funny, the girls
all seem to want cream today.  I sure am glad those tennis-ball sized
balls of yours hold so much delicious cum, and refill so quickly.  I
really must thank the doctor.   See you in about another fifteen
minutes for another helping!"

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