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Message-ID: <53625asstr$1145545803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: PleaseCain@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} [deirdre Fest - Muse] "Sucker" by Vickie Tern, 12/13, TG, Femdom, humiliation, W
Lines: 308
Date: Thu, 20 Apr 2006 11:10:03 -0400
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[Posted on behalf of Vickie Tern; e-mail address at the end of story.  -- 
pleasecain]

{ASSM}Deirdre Homage (Muse). "Sucker" by Vickie Tern, TG, Femdom,
humiliation, Wife, F/M M/M. 


                                xii.

In the morning Debbie woke me by calling me back to their bed.  Our 
bed?  I crept in and was immediately presented with Bruce's cum and
pussy-juice crusted cock, then by Debbie's oozing pussy.  I drank
and licked and sucked both, eyes shut, savoring the flavor,
wallowing in it.  When I opened my eyes once to look up
into their faces, I saw they were both watching me, pleased. 
"Isn't being a girl wonderful, honey?" Debbie asked me.  "When
there are men like Bruce around to keep us both satisfied?" 

When they were both clean Bruce turned me onto my back and gently
pushed my legs high up in the air, leaned over me, and entered me
face to face.  And fucked me as slowly and deliberately as he had
fucked me and Debbie the night before.  Debbie meanwhile crept down
from above me on that huge bed, dropped one of her breasts into my
mouth, then leaned further forward and began to suckle on my own
breasts, first one, then the other.  We sixty-nined our upper
bodies, faces buried in warm softness, sucking and sipping and
kissing each other's delicate nipples.  Heaven!  And all the while,
that delicious fulfilled feeling, followed by a yearning, then 
again by fulfillment, as Bruce stroked in and out.  Again, heaven.  

And so the weekend went.  Bruce escorted both of us to the Avalon's
formal Saturday Night ball.  We were both beautiful in our long
gowns, mine the off-the-shoulder gown Debbie had bought me only 
a few weeks ago.  Other men asked us each to dance, and Bruce danced
with both of us, and fucked both of us afterward.  Repeatedly.  
And we both sucked him off repeatedly, once both of us together, 
bumping heads and noses, fighting for a lick or a mouthful, giggling 
because it was such fun!.  We played tennis the next day, Bruce 
against the two of us, and he ran us ragged in our matching tennis 
dresses.  I felt ... cute!  Cherished!  It was a strange feeling!  
But day or night, the three of us were inseparable.  And Bruce's 
cock never quit!  

Debbie had been right from the beginning, I realized.  If I hadn't
developed the sensibilities and desires of a woman before this
weekend, if I hadn't learned to love making love like a woman and
being loved like a woman, if I hadn't found out what the varieties
of sexual experiences were with many men, and gotten accustomed to
them, then sucking Bruce's cock even once as I had originally
agreed would have been for me an ugly perversion, a severe
punishment, not a rare privilege.  As I'd first thought it, a trial
to be endured.  

But Debbie never meant to punish me.  She'd instead wanted to
remake me, with Bruce my reward.  She'd wanted me to be a woman
like her!  For the joy of it!  And I loved it!  I did enjoy taking 
Bruce in at either end, and he enjoyed each of us and both of us.  
Many times, that weekend.    

We got back late Sunday night.  I couldn't really question Debbie
until the Monday morning after we both got back home -- we were
both too busy with Bruce, and then too weary!  We woke to call in 
sick to our offices and then sleep for another few hours, still 
wrapped snugly in each other.  We'd neither of us gotten much sleep 
since Friday night, and we both needed the full day to recover.  
I wanted to be rested when I showed up at work for the first time 
with my new face and figure.  I now actually was the woman Debbie'd 
told my Boss and Personnel I meant to become.  

But above all, I wanted to know finally what had been happening. 
To my life, to my marriage, to my wife.  To us.  It wasn't till
past noon that we convened in the kitchen to share the muffins I'd
tucked into the freezer a month earlier, and fresh coffee.  Debbie
leaned back against the kitchen counter while I sat opposite at our
breakfast table, looking up at her, waiting for her to say
something.  I was well made up, because she'd suggested we go
shopping so Samantha could have one last journey into the
outer world before Sam began a slow return to the world of men. 
Or, so Samantha could fill in her wardrobe for the long haul, 
and the two of us could enjoy the first joint shopping spree 
of the rest of our lives.  I'd decide which.  Meanwhile I was 
still euphoric, daydreaming about the weekend now past.  About 
that thing of Bruce's.  Who would have thought ...? 

"Bruce called while you were in the shower," she said suddenly.

"Oh?" was all I could say.

"He likes you.  He asked me for permission to take you out again,
tonight.  There's an opening at the art gallery where women will be
wearing their finest designer outfits.  It's a chance for you to
wear yours and see what the latest fashions are."  She paused.  "To
see what you'll be wearing next year."  She paused even longer. 
"Or, he can get tickets for both of you to go to the Knicks game. 
He says, whichever you prefer." 

This news was strangely satisfying.  A tumult of emotions passed
through me.  Was I pleased?  Disappointed?  Troubled?  Some of them
must have been evident on my face.

"That's right.  You're off the hook, honey.  He's very happy with
you,  You did a marvelous job, and you deserve all the credit in
the world.  And I'll keep my word.  I'll give you your long-awaited
blow job any time you like.  Now, if you like!"  

She looked away, and delivered her next words to the kitchen
window.  "But I have to tell you this.  If you decide to go to the
Knicks game with Bruce, to be one of the guys again, I'll leave
you.  I'll have to.  I can't have a man who sucks other men's cocks
for a husband."

This was astonishing!  Unfair!  Outrageous!

"What!?" I cried out.  "But this whole thing was your idea!"  I had
a sudden insight.  "You were looking for an excuse to dump me the
whole time!  You wanted Bruce for yourself!"  Then I said it. 
"Because of his dong!  Because he's bigger than I am!"

Debbie looked at me reproachfully, yet sympathetically.  She waited
for me to calm myself.  Then said, "Partly true, honey.  But only
partly.  It's true that I like real men.  Big men!  No offense, but
you can't really feel resentful, because you're responsible for it! 
You started me off!  Those porn movies of yours.  They gave me
ideas, just as you'd hoped.  But not about fucking and sucking --
that's all rather pretty obvious stuff.  The movies gave me ideas
about what it's like to get stuffed with a huge dong like the ones
all those porn studs have!  I don't know what you were watching all
those times, but I was checking out the guys' pricks, and then I
was watching the expressions on the girls' faces as those big
pricks fucked them!"

"I wouldn't have known anything at all about huge penises without
those movies you wanted me to watch.  I had a sheltered girlhood,
hardly any boy friends before we were married.  Your cock is
average, I suppose.  I do feel it moving around inside me somewhere
when you're on top of me.  Usually."  

She leaned forward, and her eyes began to shine!  "But the pricks
on those guys in those movies!  You know!  I'd feel the strangest
longing in my pussy each time I settled in with you to watch them! 
Pure lust!  Each man with a cock that goes on and on as it goes
into a girl, and keeps coming, getting deeper and deeper, and
meanwhile so thick that it stretches her to bursting until she
doesn't dare breathe, and she splays her legs and feels split wide
open, and even then it keeps coming on into her, that incredible
pole, it just doesn't quit, on and on and into you until finally
you think the head must have reached up into your throat and that's
why you're gasping and choking and shrieking.  Maybe having chain 
orgasms one after the other, altogether out of your her mind!  And 
finally you feel his balls slam against the cheeks of your ass, 
and that's all of it.  The whole thing is inside you!  You're in 
paradise!  Then it happens in reverse.  Then the whole thing all 
over again.  It can go on for hours!  You know!  We've both just 
done it this past weekend!  Quite a few times!"

I was shocked!  What did this mean?  That Debbie had identified
with those girls in the porn films?  I'd wanted that to happen, I
guess, so she'd enjoy sex with fewer inhibitions.  But not this
way!  Apparently she'd spent all those viewing sessions imagining
she was a porn queen with her legs spread wide open to big-dicked
porn kings, maybe whole teams of them!  Not to her ordinary
average husband!"

"When I said 'you' just now, I didn't mean that you yourself
imagined those long cocks entering you up to the hilt the way I
did.  I know that.  I meant me.  Though I know you understand how
I felt, now that you've felt it yourself!"  

She smiled a conspiratorial smile at me, and I responded wanly. 
She knew how I'd lost it every time Bruce exploded his spunk into
me.  She'd heard me shriek, and she could see that at that moment
my pelvis was as wild as hers when Bruce was plunging deep and
about to climax.  She could see me writhing desperately each time
to milk his cock with my asshole. 

"So my porn movies gave you the wrong ideas?"  I asked her, with a
sinking feeling.

She smiled to herself, then looked away from me.  "Yes, they
certainly did.  Wicked ideas, they seemed to me then.  They made me
incredibly curious about how men are really hung, and whether you
can tell when you're just chatting with them.  The girls in my
office told me there's really only one way to know, to learn by
doing.  But I noticed that they'd usually spread the word around
when one of them had found some man who was ... exceptional.  And
because that word was easily confirmed by anyone else, it was
usually reliable.  So that was a second way to know.  It wasted
less time than actually trying a man on for size to see how he
fits.  After a few months I learned to listen to office gossip, 
and that saved me a lot of mistakes."

It just popped out!  "Debbie, where is all this leading?  I heard
what Bruce said yesterday about you looking to other men for sex! 
I decided he was just trying to get to me, the way guys do.  But
are you telling me you've slept with other men?  Besides Bruce, I
mean?  I've seen Bruce, and I can understand how you couldn't help
yourself when you saw us together!  But have you slept with anyone
else?"

She looked annoyed, then very solemn!  "Darling, you know you should 
never ask that question.  Marriage is based on faith!  We assume our
partners are faithful, don't we, and we never ask, do we, so
there's never any need for anyone to lie or deceive!  Is there?  
Marcie has told me about some of the men she's been with, for example.
And some of the women they've told her they've been with!"  She paused.  
Her face registered nothing, nor did mine.  Her round yet again! 

"Gabe doesn't know about Marcie's wandering,  or he never seems to 
know, and he never asks, because if he did he might have to do 
something about it.  And then he might lose her altogether.  
Certainly he'd lose faith in her, and trust her less.  Men get 
so dependent!  So of course she never tells him, and whatever she 
does with other men, on his birthday she tries to make it up to him.
Balance the scales, one for her, one for him.  Maybe even the same 
person.  He's such a submissive husband at heart, Gabe is!  He loves 
doing whatever he's told."  

She paused again.  Marcie had arranged sex for her husband 
with her own lover, true.  I felt used, somehow! 

"Have I ever asked you if you're always faithful to me?" Debbie 
asked me.  "I never kiss and tell, not even about you!  Not ever! 
So to answer your question, no, I don't sleep when I'm with other
men." 

I was silent after that.  It was a painfully evasive answer.  It
sounded like taunting.  Debbie realized that immediately, and
her annoyance vanished, to be replaced, I saw, by a deep sadness. 
I saw her struggle with herself, then settle something pretty
heavy.  She gave a huge sigh.  Then she began again.

"Samantha, listen closely.  Just nod that you understand what I'm
saying, all right?  Whenever I pause.  Don't say anything!  If a
sound emerges from you, any sound at all, even in your throat, I'll
stop talking.  And that will be that.  You know nothing, sweetheart!  
Now I want you to know everything.  Because you're my best girl!"  

This must be pretty awful, I thought.  I tried to create a mental
set in my mind, Be Silent!  Also in my throat, Be Silent!  The same
throat that was still sore from how many cocks moving in and out of
it this past week?  All for her sake?  All average sized cocks,
mostly, no monster cocks like those porn studs' cocks, anyhow,
thank God.  Except for Bruce's.  I shifted in my chair when I
thought of Bruce.  My rear end still remembered him.  It was still
sore.  I really should be sitting on a cushion, I thought.

I swallowed, then I nodded.  Here we go!

"Samantha, Sam, I love you!  I really do!  My day brightens
whenever I come home and there you are.  I don't feel complete when
we're not together.  I have never been able to imagine life without
you.  You're my companion, my friend, my adviser, my support, my
partner, my love, my other self, my life!  We really and truly are
one person, one being!  I feel everything you feel.  And I have
always wanted you to feel everything I feel."  

I nodded.  I felt tears welling up in my eyes.  Not tears of
sadness but of joy, for what she was now telling me for the very
first time.  We were one!  Despite all of the petty resentments
that accumulate between people after living together for years, as
we had.  Despite all the memories.  Because of all the memories. 
All of the little inadequacies.  All of the forgiving.
"
"And I know you feel that way about me.  That for you life without
me is inconceivable.  Insupportable.  I've counted on that often
enough during the past month.  I'm counting on it even more right
now."

I nodded slowly, deeply.  She seemed encouraged.  Grateful too?

"Sam, you're my loving and beloved partner.  My husband.  But you
aren't my lover.  You haven't been for a long time.  Not really."

That was puzzling.  We'd made real love often enough.  What could
she mean?

"Spiritually we couldn't be more intimate.  Physically though,
we've never been close.  For some reason, I didn't know why for a
long time, maybe it was chemistry I thought, maybe some deep
inhibition from my girlhood, but for some reason I couldn't ever
respond to you physically.  I thought I'd warm up to you over time,
but I never did.  There was always something missing.  When we've
had sex, I've given myself to you out of a sense of duty, not by
desire.  You know that.  You've always known that.  I've felt
guilty that there was nothing passionate between us, that I was
cheating you somehow.  Of course you didn't know.  You just began
showing me porn films, hoping they'd warm me up."

I nodded.

"Well, they did."

I sat there silent, unmoving.

"But not for you."  She paused and just looked at me.  And waited.

(End Part 12/13)
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