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From: Hammon Wry <Hammonwry@Spamtrapyahoo.com>
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 21 Apr 2003 22:38:52 EDT
Subject: {ASSM} Hammon Wry's Words of the Day for February 15, 2003
Date: Tue, 22 Apr 2003 05:10:05 -0400
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Hammon Wry's Words of the Day for Saturday February 15, 2003

Note: Due to copyright laws, I am hesitant to include the definitions
and pronunciations of the words of the day.  I have provided the
websites for each so that you can look up the words for yourself.  

Dictionary.com provides a free utility call "Clever Keys" that allows
you to highlight an unknown word, hit CTRL+L, and it will take you to
that word on their website.  You can find it here: 

http://www.cleverkeys.com/ck.html?p=home&os=

This is an excersize in writing discipline.  I am trying to get into
the habit of writing something every day.  I figure if I use the words
of the day from two sources in a sexual context, I will have
inspiration and motivation.  

And now, on to Hammon Wry's Words of the Day!
(C) E. Howe   2003
All rights reserved

Dictionary.com's word of the day: voluptuary
http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/archive/2003/02/15.html  
M-W.com's word of the day: golconda
http://www.merriam-webster.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Feb.15 

"I am no voluptuary, sir. As I have said, I am a simple woman, with no
desire to be warmed to your advances by your money.  I know that you
possess a golconda, and that you have no lack of wealth with which to
dazzle your paramours."

"You wound me, Madame.  You are my wife, and I will not have you
dressed in so unbecoming a fashion.  You will dress as I choose,
befitting your station as my consort and bride.  As for my paramours,
I have none.  But I swear, if you do not thaw towards me, I will seek
one out.  But you will still obey my wishes regarding your attire!"

With that, he snatched her wrist and pulled her bodily to him.  Her
head snapped back with the tug, and she found herself stumbling toward
him unwillingly.  He grasped her simple gown and rent it completely in
a few swift tugs.  She stood there gaping down at her own form, her
undergarments threadbare and ragged.  She tried to pull her dress
about her.  He stopped her. 

"Why do you hide yourself from me?  I am your husband, legally wed
before God and man."

"It was a marriage of convenience only, sir.  I will thank you to
remember that.  I cannot stop you from forcing me.  But I would ask
you to at least allow me some modicum of modesty.  Now, turn your back
while I cloth myself in your finery."

He turned his back to her.  Likewise, she turned as well.  He heard
the sound of silk moire rustling behind him.  A glance across the room
revealed her shapely form reflected in the full-length mirror in the
corner.  He watched as she removed her ruined dress, then her
undergarments.  She had no corset, but she needed none--her waist was
tiny, her breasts full and round.  She took up the fine clothes, and
put them on slowly, feeling the softness of the cotton, the caress of
lace.  First the chemise, fine and sheer.  He could see her nipples
backlit by the sunlight through the window, outlined against the
cloth.  She bent to pull on her pantaloons, and her hips swayed as she
tugged them over their curves.  She found the corset, and with a
moment of consideration, put it on and began lacing it.  This took
some time, and he was sore-pressed not to offer assistance.  Finally,
she lifted the dress and put it on.  By then, he was stiff with want.
She turned to him just as he looked away from the mirror, and feigned
interest in something out the window.  

"It seems I am in need of assistance, sir.  I cannot button the dress
by myself."
"It will be my pleasant duty to assist you, Madame."

He crossed the room, and began the tedious process of slipping buttons
through the holes.  Each one was difficult because of their small
size, and the tightness of the dress.  What made matters worse was his
fingers slipping  because of his trembling.  She was so near, and so
fragrant...

"There.  It is done."
She turned and looked up at him.  His face was an open book, desire
written in every line.  She stood transfixed, paralyzed.  

He looked down at her.  Her face showed fear, confusion.  But not
refusal.  He lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her softly.  She
gasped at the contact, and flushed. "You would take a kiss in
payment?"

"If that were so, I think I deserve one for each button, Madame."

Hammon Wry

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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