Cream 1

I originally posted this as part of a 'five hundred words or less' competition. After re-editing, I guess it just falls into the realm of a 'flash' story. Femdom love, bondage, and a happy ending. If this isn't your cup of tea, then don't read it.

A heavy evening rain patters against the bedroom 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 three months flashed through my brain, uncalled for and certainly not welcome. I could no longer shut them out. Expressing to my wife that I wanted her to occasionally take the lead in our sex life 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 female domination stories, but that there were other things I wanted to try. She caught on quickly...too quickly. Weekends became hers. I reveled in serving her as a sexual slave, and she luxuriated in the decadence of power and control. 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, and I fell into the trap that is contentment. The love that we had grew and matured into something new, something exciting. Something dangerous. We tried bondage, and role-playing. We tried spanking, and chastity. I read stories and came up with a list new ideas for us to try; she edited the list, added some things, and we continued on. Everything was kept safe, sane, and consensual.

It was only a few weeks ago she introduced me to her doctor friend. I thought their relationship was purely platonic, but it was more professional than I could imagine. That first night I received my first dose of hormones with my dinner. At least, it was the first dose she told me about. My treatments had been going on long enough that the doctor wanted to check on my progress. In actuality, my wife had been giving me the drug for quite some time, and I was already addicted to the piggyback drug. She and the doctor had merely decided that they were happy with the results so far and were upping the dose to a more suitable level.

That night, our relationship was changed forever. On a whim, she had taken one of the items from our ‘fantasy’ list and turned it into reality. She had done this without my knowledge, so I could say it was non-consensual. The treatments were experimental, so ‘safe’ was no longer a factor, either. And when I found out just what she intended, even though it was too late, I was no longer sure about the ‘sane’ part. My complaints about the implementation and the proposed end results fell on deaf, since I no longer had any say in any part of our sex life. She controlled it all.

The changes were subtle at first. The hormones changed my body to something a little more in line with her growing desires. The guys in the office noticed my behavioral changes, and the women thought they noticed the physical changes. I can look back on it now and see that people had tried to say something, tried to hint or insinuate that something was happening, but I had been too blinded by passion to see it. 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 visited me 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 dominatrix outfit she wears underneath. Collar. Corset. Boots. The spike heeled kind. All just for me. She knows all my visual triggers. I made them known to her early in our changed relationship, and she reinforced them until they became fetishes. She grins at my predicament: hopeless, spread-eagle style and tied to 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 which fills her mouth. She reluctantly spits the results into a mug, half filling it. Satisfied, she picks up the dress and turns to leave, but stops at the door. "Babe, you look so helpless lying there like that, I could just eat you right up! 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." She checks the time, and slips the dress back on. A normal housewife, once again. The only outward signs are the hint of the boots from under the long dress, or the glimpse of the collar of leather under the collar of cotton.

"Unfortunately, I have to get back. I just came to get some cream for Marna's coffee. Funny, the girls all seem to want extra 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 good doctor again. See you in about fifteen minutes for another helping!" With that, she strolls out of the room, whistling a contented tune.

I can hear the rain against the window, and I wonder what will happen next.

*end*