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From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern)
Subject: {VickieTern} NEW TG New Hairdo 2/3 F/m M/m F/f femdom
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{VickieTern} NEW TG:New Hairdo 2/3  femdom F/m m/M F/M




Though people in this story mean well, or claim they mean well,
they do things you may think ought not to be done.  So please
protect the underaged from reading about them.  If you are underaged,
please protect yourself.  




                          New Hairdo 2/3
                          by Vickie Tern




"Is he married?" I asked.  For some reason I wanted to remind her
of our solemn estate, not to be entered or left lightly. 

She looked pensive.  "He had been.  His wife died shortly after
giving birth, if you can imagine such a thing in this day and age. 
A combination of things, including AIDS.  Their baby was stillborn 
and she died two days later.  He was devastated."

"I can imagine," I said, to break into her silence.

"No you can't.  He'd cared for her devotedly.  No man more
attentive or tender.  He'd known that her pregnancy could be
dangerous, so he'd tried to deny himself the "consolations of her
body" he called it, except for a very few times when she'd begged
him for it, seduced him shamelessly, really.  Then those times he
took every conceivable precaution.  It was just as well, since she
was HIV positive and she hadn't told him."

"Well, she got pregnant anyhow, and refused to abort.  'This is a
love child,' she told him.  'And you're its legal father, so I want
to bear it and to see you raise it.'"

"So?" I asked.  I'd heard of worse marriages, if more fortunate
ones.  

"You don't understand, sweetie, any more than he did then.  A 'love
child' is a child out of wedlock.  Someone else was the father. 
After her death he found out there was no knowing who.  It'd hard to 
believe it, in fact the whole story sounds incredible, but 
it seems that his wife had been unfaithful for years, sexually 
insatiable.   And he was so trusting, he hadn't a clue.  All 
day long while he was at work there had been a parade of lovers
passing through their apartment and into her bed.  Gobs of their 
semen overflowed her snatch, and she never bothered even
to blot, their maid said afterward.  She took no precautions at all.  
Then when the afternoon household help came on duty, her first task 
was to run a bath so Scott's wife could soak off the sweat and cum 
and saliva, and douche herself while the maid mopped
up the mess and changed the soaked bed and got the 
sticky linens out of the apartment so Scott would never know. 
Scott's wife could take on a half dozen men daily, he found out. 
And did.  Long before her pregnancy, and all through it."  

"Anyhow, between the mother's marginal physical condition and all
those dickheads knocking on her door that baby never stood a
chance!  When his wife found out the baby was dead she told Scott
it was no big deal, it wasn't his anyhow.  That she'd never loved
him.  That she'd married him only because she'd tried everything
else, and he was as boring as everything else.  Then she died. 
That's why he felt so devastated.  His whole life had been a lie. 
He left town and moved to this city to get away from everything
that reminded him of her."

I looked sympathetic, but said nothing.  Then, "You said you never
touched each other.  How long before you did?"

April grinned at me.  "You want me to cut to the hot part, don't
you, sweetie.  Well, all right!  It was incredible, how it came 
about!  Unbelieveable!  Let me tell you!  About a month
after he'd settled in, when we were seeing each other daily, he
told me about his wife -- 'if she ever was one,' he said.  And he
asked me to perform a vasectomy on him.  If anyone he cared about
ever got pregnant again, he wanted to know for certain that the
child couldn't be his.  He didn't want children.  His patients
would be his children.  He'd be a better pediatrician for it."

I'd heard enough about this Scott's nobility.  "So?" I said.  "The
touching?"

"It's a simple procedure, I arranged to do it in my office.  I put
him in a gown, and set him up on a gynecological examining table I
keep there, and I fastened his wrists so he couldn't interfere or
thrash about, and I strapped his legs into the stirrups and spread
them wide apart.  That gave me plenty of access.  He looked so
cute, spread out like that!  So helpless!  Just like a woman!"

She smiled at me, and then looked away.  

"But down there he didn't look at all like a woman.  Not with that
equipment!  Leslie, honey, you've never seen anything like it! 
I'll bet not even when you were dating all kinds of boys back in
college!"

She was so entranced she'd forgotten who I really was!  As her best
girlfriend, I nodded, trying not to break the spell.

"So I injected him with a local, and cleaned him up, and when I
thought he couldn't feel anything, I took up the scalpel and
prepared to cut in, to resect his vas deferens.  But I teased him
first.  Tied up the way he was, it seemed like fun.  I said, 
"You know, with a flick of my wrist I could emasculate you right now, 
the way I did my husband."

"His voice came from the other side of the sheet we use to isolate
our work area, 'You have a husband?  I thought you lived with a
woman.  A lawyer, good-looking if a little butch is what I've
heard.'"

"'Yes,'" I told him.  I didn't want to keep any secrets from this
man.  And I wanted him to believe my teasing might not be teasing! 
"He's a very good-looking woman now," I said, "You could say
pretty.  But he wasn't when I began with him!"  The same feeling 
came over me I get when I'm playing with you.  I felt so powerful!  
"Would you like to join him?  Join my little harem?  You might end 
up as pretty as he is!"  I waved my scalpel high up, where he could 
see it.  I imagine no man ever felt more helpless than he did at 
that moment.

His response was unexpected, Leslie.  I'd never have imagined it! 
"'April,'" he said.  "'If you must, I want you to.  I hope
you'll leave everything there.  I guess this is as good a time as
any to say it.  I have very special feelings for you.  I want to
join myself to you.  I want to become part of you.  I want to make
you happy the way only a man can make a woman happy.  I'll need
what's down there to do that.  I love you.  But because I love you,
I want your happiness above all!  So you do whatever will make you
happy!'"

"Can you imagine?  I couldn't believe my ears!  That was so sweet! 
He was willing to give up everything for me.  Even more than you've
given up, Leslie. at least so far!  I could accept him as a man or 
unman him, whichever I chose.  Greater love hath no man! 
Right then and there I couldn't help myself.  I felt so grateful! 
A gift like that?  I leaned forward and I kissed the very balls
he'd offered to me.  Softly.  I thought that with the anesthetic
he'd never know.  But his cock swelled up immediately -- he hadn't
gone numb yet.  So I came around the other side of the barrier and
I looked him straight in the eye.  That rugged, handsome face.  He
had a broken nose from his college boxing days, but that only made
him more handsome.  Tears, I was crying, they flowed down my cheeks
and they fell on him as I leaned forward and kissed him on the
mouth.  He kissed me back.  He must have tasted my tears.  I opened
my mouth, and he thrust in his tongue.  It isn't as long as your
tongue, Leslie, but it tasted so very sweet!"

She'd finished with her main course.  I'd finished mine earlier. 
Now she set her silverware aside and seemed to be day-dreaming, as
if seeing it all again.

"I told him that no one had ever trusted me so completely before,
not even my husband.  That I had to love him for that!  And that I
wanted to kiss him some more, while we waited for the anesthetic to
kick in.  He interrupted me.  'May I kiss your breasts, April?' 
What a proposal!  My smock and my bra just flew off, and there were
my breasts with their nipples protruding, rock hard.  I decided not
to release his hands, though I desperately wanted to.  You know
what it's like, Leslie, when you're aroused and want to feel your
breasts caressed and cupped and held passionately.  I gave him just
a few minutes apiece of each breast dangling over his face, my
nipples hanging into his mouth.  His lips closed on the ends of
each breast, and his tongue tickled and caressed the tips, and
shocks of pure bliss shot through me deep into my vagina."  

"I don't remember when I climbed up onto him and inserted him into
me.  I know we were both soaking wet when I came to myself and
found I was astride him and he was inside me and I was banging and
riding and writhing and twisting on top of him for all I was worth,
and my pussy was squeezing itself into one spasm after another. 
Glorious!  Chain orgasms, I'd heard of them!  I've had them so
often with him since then!  Most often when he's on top of me, that
gorgeous thing of his banging into me as ferociously and brutally
as he can slam it and pound it at me!  God, I do love hard
fucking!"

Her voice had risen, and I looked around.  She noticed, and ducked
her head.  "Oops!" she said.

The waiter came and removed out plates and went away.  He then came
back with dessert menus.  April handed them back to him.  "Maybe
later," she said.  "Maybe not at all.  Wait, and we'll let you
know.  Is that all right?"  

"The waiter mumbled 'Of course, madam,' or something like that.  I
don't know why, but at that moment I turned toward him and gave him
a great big smile, perhaps of gratitude for his tolerance that we
could stay a while longer.  Perhaps it was something else.  To
reassure myself that I still was sexually attractive myself, as a
woman if not as a man?  To overcome my jealousy of Scott, of that
cock hammering my wife's pussy as mine never would again?  I
touched my hair a few times, fluffed it up a bit in back, and
looked the poor man in the eyes just a bit longer than I needed to. 
He was startled at first, but he returned a grin as he turned away. 
April noticed, but said nothing.

"I never did perform that vasectomy.  When we were both fucked out
and my thighs were stiff from riding and bouncing on him, I just
climbed off the table and picked up the scalpel again, and grinned
wickedly, and said to him, 'So you trust me, do you?'  'Yes,' he
said, and he closed his eyes.  So peacably!  'I do.  I love you. 
What you want is what I want.'  Leslie, I had his balls in the palm
of my hand, and a knife in the other hand.  But what I said to him
was, 'Scott, I want your baby!  I want lots of them.  And lots of 
doing what we've just done!  A lifetime of it!'  It surprised me! 
Amazed me!  Him too!"

"But from that moment I've known that one day you and I would be
sitting here talking like this, Leslie honey.  That I'd need to
tell you I was divorcing you to marry Scott.  Because Scott opened
his eyes and he looked at me and he said in the most earnest and
intense voice I have ever heard, 'April,  that's what I want!  All
of it!'"  

"So of course I set down the scalpel.  And then with his cock erect
but absolutely numb, I gave him the best blow job I have ever given
anyone, while he watched.  He couldn't feel a thing, but he knew I
had to, and he watched me do it with such understanding and
gratitude and devotion and fondness.  We spent the rest of that
afternoon cuddled in each others' arms, kissing, spooning, loving
each other.  My heart felt so very full.  It still does."

"When was this?" I asked, a little bitterly.

April didn't reply.  She just looked at me.  I remembered my proper
role.

"That's so exciting, April!" I said.  "I'm so happy for you both! 
But for how long have you two been ... making each other happy? 
And is it ... very often?  You can tell me!"

She resumed chatting with her girlfriend.  

"That was maybe a year ago.  We've gotten together whenever we
could since then.  Never often enough, never more often than four,
maybe six times a week!  Our schedules are pretty tight, so it's
not easy to free up the time and place.  We're quite an item around
the hospital.  Hardly anyone hasn't opened a door and found us
humping each other standing, sitting, lying down, crouching, you
name it.  Or me blowing him.  We do little things for each other. 
We love it.  We love each other.  There's no getting around it,
Leslie.  That's why we want to get married."
                     
"But you've loved me this past year too," I reminded her.  "For our
kind of sex.  You've come home eager, and crooked your finger at me
and said 'Come upstairs to bed with me quick, honey, I need you
badly.'  And when I'd get upstairs you were already lying on our
bed with your skirt and panties off and your slip pulled up and
your legs spread wide, and you'd say, 'For God's sake, Leslie,
please!  Your tongue!  I need your tongue!'  And you were already
dripping wet, really soaked down there sometimes, by the time I
could get my lips rounded and clamped over your slit to begin to
suck you and spoon those sweet juices out with my tongue.  Some
days you were really filled to the brim, secretions pooled in every
crevice.  I loved it, that you'd get so aroused just from
anticipating me!"  

April was silent.  Daydreaming again?

She looked at my face.  "Yes, sweetheart.  Sometimes Scott and I
didn't have time for more than one fuck before we'd be interrupted. 
Phone calls, patients, something.  And then I'd feel so frustrated,
unfinished!  Now and then we'd both fly out of town for
professional meetings, and then we could spend three or four days
plastered together.  That was always nice, my body always as full
of him as my heart!  But at the hospital he'd get called away
sometimes before we could satisfy each other several times.  I'm
really grateful to you that then you helped him out.  I do hope you
enjoyed his flavor.  I think he's delicious!"

She paused, and glanced again at my face, and saw the expression
there.  "Oh, good heavens, honey!  Did you think all that pearly
stuff in me was me?  Good heavens, no!  Some of it.  Your tongue
still excites me!  But not all of it!  Not even most of it!  You've
sucked and swallowed more of Scott's cum than I have during the
past year, Leslie.  Much more!"

She suddenly stopped.  She'd said too much?  "That's what girls do,
honey," she said a little defensively. "And I do want you to
experience everything girls do!" 

She sat a moment, then sat back.  Then looked at me.  The spell had
worn off.  I was again her husband, not her girlfriend, now that
she'd told me as much as she meant to tell me.  Maybe I was Scott's
jealous rival?  

"We have to talk more, Les," she said.

"Yes, I suppose so," I replied.  "Separation agreements, property
settlements, and so forth.  But not now, April, please."  

I was near tears.  That bleak feeling was descending on me again. 
Outside it was pitch black.  Soon she'd leave me and I'd have to
walk out into it alone.

"Yes, now," April replied.  "We need to talk.  But not about those
things.  Not exactly."

I just sat there.  What else was there to say?  I felt helpless. 
I'd done everything she wanted.  Sacrificed everything, nearly. 
And now I was losing her!  Could I begin my own life again?  As
what?  To cover my misery I took out my compact and lipstick and
began touching up my mouth yet again.  I'm sure I was starting to
cry.  I could barely see myself in the mirror.  A teeny, forlorn
sound came out of me despite myself.

"Leslie," April said suddenly in the sprightliest possible voice. 
I looked up.  Her head was cocked vivaciously, and she seemed
buoyant, grinning.  She wanted to cheer me up.  "Let me ask you the
same question you asked me.  How do you know you wouldn't rather
make it with a man than a woman?  Have you ever tried?"

I appreciated her effort to jest.

"Of course not.  You know that."  I couldn't look at her.

"No, you've never even had a dildo inside you, have you.  Even
though that's what women often use with other women.  You never
knew that?  It never occurred to you?
"
"No."

"Nor to me.  I must be pretty straight, I suppose.  I never did
feel like penetrating you, it was so nice just doing what we did. 
And because I've been getting fucked so frequently by Scott, and he
stays hard so long and recovers so quickly, I've never needed for
you to use a dildo on me.  But recently I've been wondering how
you'll get by, when I've gone off to live with Scott."

"I'll get by," was all I said.  "I'll survive.  Don't let me slow
you down!"  I tried to be sardonic, but she wasn't buying it.

"I'm sure you'll survive," she said.  Then, "You know, there's this
woman at work, Fran, she's another surgeon, abdominal mostly, she
said that she's cleared all kind of things out of men's bowels that
women have pushed into them and then couldn't get out.  Or other
men have pushed in.  Golf balls, soda bottles, light bulbs even,
you name it.  Lots of wives have done it to their husbands.  So one
day Fran decided to try something like that on her own husband. 
But safely, with a dildo."  

"Well, she said it was overwhelming!  Really empowering!  She loved
being the dominant partner!  She loved violating his ass with her
own thrusting torpedo, at will or whim, whatever her pelvis felt
like doing, all the while he lay there helplessly and grunted and
just took it.  She liked being the man.  Being in charge.  He hated
it at first, she said.  But in a way he must have loved it too,
because his cock was a wooden pole the whole time.  And when she
orgasmed just from the raw animality of pounding into him, he came
too!  'It was different' was what he said when she asked him how it
felt.  'I'll bet!' she replied. 'I heard you moaning for more!' She
found that when she was wearing the cock and he knew he had to take
it into his body, he'd submit to other ...ahh... indignities as
well.  Even against his will.  And be grateful afterward."

"Well, I told Scott about Fran and her husband, but that's where it
ended.  Scott would never let me bugger him, not in a million
years.  He has the tightest asshole in Christendom.  I can't even
get a finger in!  A real anal compulsive, anal retentive
personality.  An uptight asshole, you'd probably say, if you were
a man.  But he does have the tightest buns, too!  I love them! 
Yours got so plump when your hormones rounded them out that they're
even a little flabby now.  I've been meaning to get you some
exercises to help you shape them up a bit more.  'Buns of Steel,'
you've seen the videotape."

"Anyhow, Fran asked me if I'd ever used a dildo on my girlfriend
Leslie.  When I told her 'No,' she just looked at me and said,
'What are live-in girlfriends for, April?  Good heavens?  The woman
has a cunt, and you don't fuck her?  She must be feeling terribly
deprived!'"

'"Yes,' I answered her.  'She may well be feeling deprived.  I'll
have to ask her.'  I couldn't very well tell her that my girlfriend
doesn't have a cunt, and that may be the reason why she's feeling
deprived."

"What?" I asked?  "What was that, April?"  Her last statement
hadn't at all gone where I'd expected it to go.  I hadn't felt at
all deprived, not until tonight!  I began to pull out of my
depression, to listen more closely.

"Leslie, tell me.  Wouldn't you like to feel for yourself what it's
like, what I've just been describing about my affair with Scott, or
what Fran's husband feels these days?  How it feels to be on the
receiving end.  To give while receiving?  To be really and truly
fucked?"

The obvious remark occurred to me, but I said nothing.

"I've been selfish, I suppose.  All take and no give.  But I do
want you to experience the ultimate pleasure a woman can have.  I
owe it to you.  You need to know why it is that these parking
attendants and waiters dance around you hoping for a glance and a
smile.  Why those men pick you up at those clubs we go to, and
whirl you around the floor.  They hope, they dream, vaguely, that
somehow you'll let them sink themselves into you, so they can feel
the pleasures a pussy provides.  Could provide, if you had one. 
And they hope for an opportunity to give you pleasure too!"

"April, cut to the chase!  Are you telling me to take up with
dildos, or with men, or to let you equip me with a vagina?"

"Honey, I really and truly feel guilty about all this.  I love you. 
You know that.  I don't want to just walk away and leave you
neither here nor there.  I want my girlfriend to enjoy being what
she is.  I certainly don't want you to resent that I turned you
into a woman, nearly, and that now I'm divorcing you for a real
man, the greatest fuck I've ever had, the love of my life!"

She hadn't answered me.  She noticed that I'd noticed, and then she
went on.  

"Honey, I guess yes, that's what I'm telling you.  I don't want to
press you or anything, but give it some thought.  You can only go
so far with dildos, or with satisfying your men with your anus, if
that's what you think I was thinking.  The best sex between men and
women is what happens when a man's cock is inside a woman's vagina. 
With no vagina, you can't experience that.  Right now all of your
erogenous nerve endings are still in that useless penis of yours,
most of them down toward the base.  I want you to think about
turning the whole assembly inside out.  About having a sensitive
clit and a vagina that throbs with joy when a real prick strokes in
and out of it!  Feeling heaven between your legs!"  

"And there's something else.  You know that Scott knows about us. 
He isn't jealous of us, exactly.  He isn't jealous of my relations
with women.  I don't think he understands them.  But we've talked
about you.  He likes the idea of my spending time with someone
affectionate who shares my interests.  A woman.  With an intimate
girlfriend.   He'd feel reassured to know there's someone I can be
with when he's not available."  

"And I want him to have that reassurance.  I'm now married to a man
who's nearly disappeared, and I'm divorcing what's left of him, but
that doesn't mean I can't still share things with my dearest
girlfriend.  We won't live together the way we do now, of course. 
You'll have your own place, the house we're in now, and you'll lead
your own life.  Have other friends.  Get to know the neighborhood
wives.  See other men maybe.  But we can still see each other. 
There's no reason not to!  You can still be my dearest friend.  We
can still giggle together about everything!"

She paused.  "Isn't that so?"

I nodded.  It was so.  I almost sobbed at the pity of it.  A
friendship was all that remained of our marriage!  But at least
that much!  Maybe more!

"That's if you're a woman.  If you're no way a man.  You have to be
a woman.  Scott has to be satisfied that you're a woman."

Understood, I suppose.  She'd sort of said that.  Then she leaned
forward to say more.  "Leslie, Scott and I want you to be my Maid
of Honor at our wedding."  

My mouth fell open.

"More than that, I want to do this for my Maid of Honor!  I want my
bridal gift to you to be a pussy.  I want to share everything with
you, the way girlfriends should.  Nearly everything!  Please think
some more about it."  

"Think too about how much fun we can have picking out our gowns and
everything!  I'd be so happy!  Arranging different couples at
different tables.  Maybe mixing up the husbands and wives, to see
what happens?"  She threw me a wicked glance.  "Honey, I don't want
you left all alone, after everything we've shared.  And think about
after the wedding!  There'll be lots of Scott's friends there, and
some of them are between wives, and some of them are roamers, and
I should think looking the way you do you'd have the pick of the
lot.  I know you would.  There are some wonderful experiences out
there for you, waiting to happen!  If you can accommodate them!" 

"April, you keep saying it.  But I don't want to be intimate with
men.  I really don't."  I was appalled by the way she kept
returning to that notion!  

"Honey," she said.  "You think so now.  But looking the way you do,
feeling the way you feel about yourself, it's only a matter of
time.  Take it from me.  I know that when you first try a dildo
you'll love it.  It's like Fran's husband said, it's different.  He
wasn't the least bit feminine when she started with him, but now
when she comes toward him he can't open up to her fast enough. 
Then sooner or later you'll find that men are a lot more satisfying
than dildos.  You already love the way they fall all over you for
a smile.  Don't deny it.  Well, you don't know it yet, but in bed
men can be very warm and loving, and when they're horny they have
moves and desires that can take your breath away.  You'll see."

"Leslie sweetie, you're the woman I've taught you to be.  That's
the next step!  I have no doubt at all that soon your mouth and
your anus will be baptized with real sperm, sooner than you think,
and you'll be thinking about getting a pussy.  I may not be moving
from man to man any more, the way I did before I met Scott, but
you'll be.  You'll be checking out lots of the merchandise.  The
way you behaved with that waiter?  You must know that!"

I paid no attention to her reference to the waiter.  "You've been
moving from man to man?  For how long now?"  I was shocked yet
again!

She looked at me narrowly.  "Oh, Leslie, I've been thinking you
were my girlfriend, and I forgot you still think you're my husband
too.  Of course!  Practically since we were married!  With lots of
men.  Right away I missed the way some of my old boyfriends felt,
different from you, so I started in again with one, then with
another.  I missed my old girlfriends too, the things we used to do
together, but they'd all moved away.  That's why I wanted you to
fill in, to be my new girlfriend.  And that's what you've been!"  

She sighed, reminiscing.  "Why do you think I found it so easy to
do without your cock?  Why do you think I didn't care when you lost
your erections?  On the other hand you know how I absolutely adored
those darling little titties of your when they first began to come
in, especially when your nipples got so erogenous that all I had to
do was touch them and you'd squeal, and then you'd do anything I
asked you to do.  It all got a lot easier then!"  She was lost in
reverie for a moment.


end 2/3
VickieTern@AOL.COM


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