Collar, corset, boots

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!”