Domestic Discipline Addict Ch. 10

Chapter Ten

I drove to the Walgreens store, clear across town.

"Prescription for Morgan?" I said at the "get prescription here" window.

A voice said, "I'll take that."

The pretty girl moved away leaving me facing a short, wizened man.

"Come into the consultation room," he said.

I followed dutifully.

"Okay," he said when we sat, "you need to be careful with the sequence here."

"Okay," I replied.

"Now," he said, all business, "you start her off with these," and he handed me an amber plastic pill bottle with pills big enough to choke a horse.

"One as soon as she wakes up, one at noon, and one at bedtime," he went on, "giving her a massive overdose of estrogen and progesterone, making her body think she's pregnant."

I nodded.

"That course is four days," he said, "and then these," and he handed me another plastic bottle, "more estrogen and progesterone but not as much of an overdose, and heavy on prolactin to get those udders producing along with some oxytocin to make sure she's enjoying it."

I nodded again.

He handed me a box.

"You need to nurse," he looked up at me, "you know, suckle on the teat," I nodded, "regularly and have her use this pump at LEAST four times a day, more is better."

"Gotcha," I said.

"Questions?" he said.

I chuckled and said, "how long before her milk comes in?"

"That, my friend," he said, smiling for the first time, "depends on the woman. If you're not getting anything after three weeks come back and see me," he said and handed me a card.

"Okay," I said, standing when he did.

"Good luck," he said, and then added, "see you at the Club."

I was smiling as I headed for the car.

"You look like the Cheshire cat," Arlene said as I got in.

I chuckled and said, "just excited."

As I started heading for home she said, "David, when we get home, pump it up some, please."

"Really?" I said.

"Yessssssssssssssssssssss," she sort of hissed, "I can barely feel it."

I smiled, concentrating on my driving, and said, "you are going to look SO damn good when you're hugely pregnant."

She giggled and said, "I remember how much you liked my body then. I can't wait."

We sang along with the oldies station on the way home.

As soon as we got home she took my hand and led me into the bedroom.

"Get some water honey," she said as she started undressing.

So I went into the kitchen, got a glass of water, and went back to the bedroom.

She had the blankets turned down and was sitting up on a towel she had folded into a pad.

She had a hand mirror and was actually a little breathless.

"Show me how you do it," she said.

The little pink end of the filler tube was barely peeking out from her pussy so I filled the syringe with another 100 ccs of water, locked the end of the syringe onto the little tube, and pressed.

"Again," she said, even more breathless.

So I did.

"Let me," she said, holding out her hand.

I handed her the syringe and watched, fascinated, as she filled it and attached it to the filler tube.

Her hands were trembling a little.

She hissed a little and then smiled at me.

"Oh my," she said, giggling a little, "I felt that one."

"You're beautiful," I said.

She pumped three more syringes in, making that soft little hissing sound each time, bringing her "baby" to about four pounds.

"Oooooooooooooooh," she crooned, "that's enough for now," and handed me the syringe and glass.

She sat on the edge of the bed and then stood, I noticed already needing to adjust to her new center of gravity.

Her baby bump was, not yet prominent, but clearly present.

She went to the floor-length mirror on the door and looked at herself.

I went and stood behind her.

She turned and met my eyes.

"Am I really beautiful, David?" she asked.

I turned her around and moved behind her, my body touching hers, my hands around the bottom of the baby bump, and nuzzled her neck, whispering, "look in the mirror."

She did and I caressed the roundness of her belly and then cupped and lifted her breasts. I know I was imagining it, but the already felt fuller right then. Her nipples were very hard and her areolas were tight and crinkly, the little love bumps very prominent.

"You," kiss to her neck, "are," kiss, "abso," kiss, "lutely," kiss, "stunning." kiss.

She giggled and turned and threw her arms around my neck and kissed me.

"Now," she said, breaking the kiss, "show me the goodies we got at the drugstore."

I smiled, took her hand, and like two children we walked back to the kitchen where I had dropped the bag from Walgreens onto the table.

I was a gentleman and held the chair while she sat.

Then I pulled the various bottles out of the bag, along with the daily pill organizer I had picked up, and walked her through the course.

I put the pills in the proper containers and then said, "now, I am going to make love to my pregnant wife."

She giggled and stood.

"Will you still want me when I'm a blimp?" she asked, softly caressing her round belly.

I bent and kissed where she was rubbing and said, "yes."

I stood and slapped her ass and said, "now come on wench, put out."

She giggled again and followed.

We made love twice, slowly, tenderly.

And then I realized I was absolutely exhausted.

I watched, sleepy, as she got the box that had the breast pump, looked at the instructions, lubricated the cup with vaseline, and turned it on.

I drifted off to sleep to the pleasant rhythmic buzz-whoosh-click of the pump.