Life as Abby Ch. 01

Hello, again my beautiful people. I promised another story, The Chains that Bind chapter 2, but as with any project, inspiration comes as it will. So, instead, I have dove right back into the world of Mistress M and Abby. I know a great many of you will be happy that the second adventure has begun and I will do my best to keep up with regular updates.

Hugs and snuggles to you all

Abby

**************

Her hips ground into mine as she lowered herself onto me again. Moans of pure pleasure permeated the room, as did the strong musky smell of our lovemaking. We had been at it for hours now, but neither of us showed any signs of wanting to stop. Her hands found my breasts and she squeezed. Moaning louder, I arched my back, pushing myself even deeper into her. She used my breasts as a handhold to steady herself, then slowly rocked her hips back and forth grinding her clit across my pelvic bone.

Looking into her eyes, I could tell she was close again. I had lost count of the climaxes we had both shared during our lovemaking, but it was more than we had ever had before. Her speed increased, and I put my hands on her thighs to help steady her.

"Are you going to cum for me?" she moaned.

I could only pant and nod.

"Deep inside? Oooooh..."

Her body shook and her hands clamped tighter on my breasts as the first wave washed over her. I took over the thrusting, determined to make this one last as long as possible.

"I'm cumming!" I moaned.

"Cum for me, baby! Cum deep inside!"

Neither of us could move as the waves crashed over us both.

She collapsed on top of me, crushing her large breasts into mine but still holding me inside her. The walls of her vagina steadily flexed around me, milking me for every drop. She moaned in my ear as I kissed her shoulder.

"I have missed this so much," I whispered.

"Me too," she said.

I could feel our mixed juices running down my shaft to drip between my legs, but I didn't care. I closed my eyes and held my wife tight to my chest and tried not to cry.

*************

My fingers traced ever so lightly across the gentle curve of flesh. A soft smile played across my lips as I watched the reaction to that light touch. Goosebumps rose across the skin, and the rosy little nub surrounded by slightly darker flesh grew hard. The fingers traced circles around that nub causing it to grow harder, and a soft moan echoed around the room. The light touch of the fingers was quickly replaced by the grasping force of the hand they belonged to. The moan grew louder as I squeezed my breast none too gently with my other hand.

"Starting again, and without me," Missy said while moving up behind me.

Her arms circled me from behind. Her hands came up to replace my own and gently cup my breasts. Biting my lip, I pressed into her touch.

"Just... amazed," I answered quietly.

"You have always been amazing," Missy replied.

She pinched, then tugged gently at my nipples causing me to gasp loudly. Then, with hardly a sound, she stepped away towards the shower.

"We are going to be late if you don't stop admiring yourself in the mirror."

I grinned and looked down between my breasts at the other engorged part of my body.

"You sure we don't have time for a little fun?"

"Seriously," Missy asked. "We just spent half the day and night fucking our brains out, and you are already looking for more? At least that proves the surgery didn't remove your libido."

Giggling, I followed her into the shower. Missy's hand wrapped around my shaft as she pulled me closer.

"Help me with my hair and back, then maybe I will give you a quick tug and tickle," she teased. "If we still have time."

The massive his and hers, or should I say hers and hers, the shower came to life. We both gave it a moment to warm up, then stepped under our respective shower heads. I fell into my daily routine quickly. My fingers traced over every part of my body as I used the nice black-cherry body wash to scrub myself. My searching fingers sought out stray hairs that would need the attention of my razor, but since the new body waxing sessions each month had started, I seldom found anything.

It had been almost four months to the day since we had returned from our second honeymoon and just over three months since I had gone under the knife for breast augmentation surgery. I was still amazed that I had been brave enough to do so, and that Missy had been so willing and accepting. To be honest, all of our friends had been so accepting that it still brought tears to my eyes to think about it.

We had talked with the doctor and tried several "fake" breasts to try and decide on the perfect size for my build. I was insistent I wanted to make Missy happy and get the massive K-cups, like my new breast forms, and while Missy was more than happy to go along, a K-cup was not going to be small enough to look natural.

In the end, the doctor and Missy were able to convince me to move down in cup size. It was the doctor's description of "Two beach balls" stuck to my chest that did it. I looked down at my chest as I thought about that discussion and my final acceptance. The water ran across the smooth skin of my E-cup breasts to drip from my rosy-colored nipples. We had opted for a little more painful procedure, one where the incisions were made in my armpits to insert the implants. I didn't want any visible scars and this was the best option.

The pain, swelling, and discoloration were terrible. For the first three weeks, I hated looking at myself and hated even more that I wasn't beautiful for my Mistress. But, as the bruising started to fade, and the swelling decreased, I started to see what beautiful work our doctor had done.

It took a full six weeks before I even attempted to put on anything other than a sports bra. But now, three months in, my collection of bras has changed dramatically. Most anything smaller than an E-cup was donated to charity, as was anything bigger. No more changing breast size on a whim for me.

Missy saw how difficult it was for me to part with my bras. I couldn't believe she had caught me crying over bras! But then, those were what had first made me... me. She did know how to cheer me up though. Bra shopping! My collection was bigger than ever.

A sharp jab in my arm brought me back from my thoughts.

"Are you going to wash my hair or not," Missy demanded.

"Sorry, I was just thinking," I answered sheepishly.

I grabbed the shampoo and started on Missy's hair.

"Were they good thoughts at least," she asked as my fingers worked across her scalp.

I shrugged, even though she didn't see it. "It's hard to believe it has been nearly four months since we came back."

"A lot has changed in the last four months," Missy answered. "Are you still keeping up with your exercises?"

"Every day, just like you said."

"I can see the difference it is making already." She said as I started rinsing the shampoo out. "Your waist is already narrowing and your ass is filling out nicely."

After my surgery, and since I strongly refused hormone replacement, we had decided on a series of daily exercises that would start shaping the rest of my body in a more feminine way. I was never really overweight, but with these exercises, I was toning my legs while increasing the size of my butt and narrowing my waist.

"I... I didn't hurt you last night, did I?" she hesitantly asked.

"Hurt me?"

"You know, your boobs? I was a little rough on them, but I was trying to be gentle."

I smiled and thrust my chest in her direction. "They are yours to be as rough with as you want, my Mistress," I teased.

She just frowned and arched an eyebrow at me.

"No. You didn't hurt me. It was the greatest feeling I have ever had. All the pain from the surgery is long gone."

"You remember what the doctor said, gentle massages, every day for at least six months," Missy said.

"That is just to stimulate cell growth and make them look even more natural."

"They look beautiful. I'm glad you agreed to the smaller size. Though I still think you could have gone a little bigger, maybe an F or even a G."

"The doctor said to give it a year or more to allow my skin to stretch and if we wanted to go bigger, we could," I answered with a smile.

"Back to the question at hand. You are OK, right? Yesterday wasn't too much," Missy asked.

Yesterday was the very first time we had been intimate since coming back from Bora Bora. After my surgery, I didn't want her to see me naked because of the bruising and swelling and just how ugly I felt. After all of that went away, Missy was afraid to touch me more than to help with my daily massages from time to time for fear of causing me more pain.

I think yesterday we had both just had enough waiting.

"I am better than OK," I said with a smile. "I am in love with a beautiful woman."

That got me a playful slap, but a nice warm kiss as well.

"You still need that tug, or are you going to make it through the day?" she teased.

"Can't we stay home and just make love?"

"We talked about this," Missy scolded. "You have to go back to work, or at least out...period. You can't hide away forever. Besides, Pam said if she had to drink one more cup of that rotgut people are calling coffee, she would stage a walkout."

I sighed, but kissed her again and smiled. "Then I guess the Coffee Slut will need to make her fabulous return."

"Yes, she will," Missy said, turning off the shower. "Did you try on your uniform yesterday? I had it resized for your new boobs."

Nodding, I handed her a towel. "It fits like a second skin, but I had trouble keeping my breasts covered. It's almost like the cups are too small."

"We will have to have a look once you put it on," Missy said.

We dried off in silence, taking turns with the hair dryer. My hair had grown out even more and the beautiful baby pink shone brightly in the lights. We had decided that since I liked it so much, I was allowed to keep my hair this color for as long as I wanted. I got to see Sally about once a month for a new coloring session and a light trim to keep things even. Her girls still think of me as a celebrity even though I do nothing to deserve it.

Once dried and ready, I headed to Abby's room... Abby's room... We would have to come up with another name for that. I am Abby now. I will need to talk to my Mistress about this one. Maybe we could just call it my closet now, or the little slut's room? I'm sure Mistress would have some ideas once I pointed it out.

My work dress hung right where I had left it yesterday in all its purple glory. It, however, would need to wait until after makeup. Mistress had given very clear instructions on my makeup over the last few weeks. We had even practiced it several times to make sure I could do it on my own and that she would be happy with the colors. We found a liquid-gold eyeliner and matched it with a royal purple eyeshadow that matched the colors of the dress. The rest of my makeup was the same as always, concealer, foundation, blush, highlights, and lowlights. I had done it so many times now it was second nature.

One other thing I practiced was the temporary tattoos Mistress had received from Jo. She enjoyed them so much she had ordered a whole box of them. We practiced aligning them just right, then applying them with a damp cloth. And after just a few minutes, the purple and gold flowing text wrapped across the top of each breast and just started to dip into my cleavage. I was now marked as the Coffee Slut.

The dress is hard to describe. It looks like a cross between a frilly prom dress and a maid's uniform. There is a multi-layer underskirt and a built-in corset. It is, of course, done in several shades of purple with white and gold accents to reflect the colors of Missy's logo.

There are built-in garters for the matching stockings and panties. And the cords to tie the corset closed are on either side of the dress, making it possible for me to put it on and pull it tight myself. Because of the corset not being loose enough, I always struggle to get it pulled down over my chest. But once it is in place, it fits like a glove.

The final part, after tightening the laces, and fluffing the skirts, were my breasts. The dress has these tiny, little quarter-cups. It feels like they are filled with plastic or something that turns them into little shelves to "display" my wares as it were. They do offer a good amount of support but cover nothing at all. They just push my breasts up and make them look even fuller than they are. There is a thin, and I mean very thin, strip of stretchy, clingy, almost transparent material that covers my nipples and the bottom half of my breasts, when you can get it to stay in place.

It was always hard to keep tears from my eyes when I put this dress on. My Mistress made it for me. Just for me. There was not another one in the world like it. Well, that's not exactly true. I have five of them the same and a sixth done in pinks. But they are all mine. The little thin strip of material slipped up around my upper chest once again, and I sighed as it exposed my nipples to the world. I giggled when I saw myself in the mirror. The little cups of the dress pushing my breasts up, my erect nipples standing proudly offering to be seen, fondled, or sucked.

"You know that's not the way that works right?" Missy asked from behind me.

Looking at her in the mirror, I answered. "I told you that I can't seem to keep them covered now."

Frowning, Missy moved closer and started inspecting the dress. "We didn't have this issue with the massive forms, I wonder what has changed?"

She spent the next few minutes poking, prodding, and pulling at different parts of the balcony until with an "Ah ha!" she discovered the issue.

"It looks like we might have taken it in too much," she said.

"I did say it looked a little small."

"No, no the cups are fine, it is the strip that covers you. It is supposed to have some give so that when you stretch or bend it pulls tighter, but it is currently pulling too tight, causing it to slip."

"Does that mean no dress for work today?" I asked.

The look in her eyes was answer enough.

Missy spent a few minutes trying to adjust the material, and in the end found that if she lifted my breasts, and tucked the material under them slightly, it held in place quite well. The only downside was that now it covered even less. I could see the tops of my areolas peeking over the material.

"It's not perfect, but it will do for today," Missy said. "Now, where are your piercings?"

"Piercings?" I asked.

"Your slut plaques," she said. "We agreed you wouldn't have to wear them until after your breasts were healed. You seem to be healed just fine."

I opened the top drawer of my vanity, and there lay two sets. One real, and one clip-on. The clip-on has a little ring that squeezes around the nipple to keep it from falling off. The two little chains that hang from that ring lead down to a bright pink plaque with the word 'Slut' in block letters across it. The real ones use a nipple bar in place of the ring. We had talked it over with the doctor and she had recommended waiting at least one year after the operation and nipple construction surgery before even thinking about getting them pierced.

Missy pulled down the bit of material, then quickly leaned over and sucked my left nipple into her mouth. I moaned and thrust my chest out. Her lips puckered around my nipple and sucked harder. My knees almost buckled in pleasure. Then just as quickly it was over. My now very hard nipple poked proudly in her direction as she slipped the ring over it and squeezed it tight. Missy repeated the process with my right breast, then stood back to see her handiwork. I jiggled my breasts slightly just to make the plaques sway.

"Perfect. Now you are ready for work," Missy said while turning towards the door. "Oh! I almost forgot." She stopped and pulled out the thick purple collar that matched the color of my dress. "Kneel, Slut."

I knelt in front of her and pulled my hair up out of the way. Missy latched the collar around my neck, then tilted my head back so our eyes met.

"Pull your hair up into a ponytail so I have something to hold your head by later, and don't forget to cover your nipples."

She leaned over and kissed my head before going to finish getting dressed.

Standing up, I moved back to my vanity and sat down to fix my hair. I wanted to surprise my Mistress, so I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail as she asked, but then added three lengths of purple ribbon to each of three sections of my hair. It took a few tries to get it right, but as I braided my ponytail with the ribbon, I made a beautiful pattern of purple ribbon.

I slipped my feet into the new six-inch purple heels that had come with the dress, then moved over to the full-length mirror to take in the whole look. The heels made my ass look great, though I had to pull up my dress to see it, it also made me force out my chest a little more as well. I touched one of my nipples, then gave the piercing an experimental tug. Mistress had secured them well. The material of the dress just covered my nipples as I pulled it up, but as hard as they were, you would never miss them or the outline of the plaques.

Fluffing my skirts once more, I gave myself a final once over. Makeup well applied, tattoos at just the right angle, nipples covered, skirts pulled down to just cover my ass. I was ready! Taking as deep a breath as I could, I turned from the mirror and tried my best to look confident as I made my way downstairs.

We had seen friends over the last few months, but nothing social, like dinner parties or drinks at the bar. Just a quick hello in a parking lot, or a video call with Chris and Mary. This was going to be the first time I took my new body out to be around people I know. Honestly, I was worried. I don't know why, all of them had seen me dressed like this before, but something about it being "my" breasts they were looking at instead of large bits of silicon, had me hesitating.

"Stop dragging your feet, Slut!" Missy called up the stairs.

"I'm here, Mistress," I answered from the landing.

"Come down so I can have a proper look at you," she commanded.

I descended the last few steps, then stopped in front of her with my eyes downcast as was only proper. Mistress's sneakers whispered across the tiles as she slowly walked her way around me.

"All of that practice doing your makeup and applying those tattoos has paid off," she said, lifting my chin so I could see her smile. "Smile, my beautiful Coffee Slut. Let the world see just how beautiful you are. And if they can't accept it, then fuck'em! You don't need them anyways! Right?"

A grin split my face, followed quickly by a soft giggle. "Yes, my Mistress. I love you so much."

"Good gurl. Now, make our coffee and I will get your leash."

My confidence boosted, my heels clicking across the floor, and my hips swaying just so, I made my way quickly to the kitchen where hot coffee waited. The travel mugs were already sitting on the counter from my preparations last night. Three sugars for Mistress, and only one for myself. I was watching my gurlish figure after all. Cups filled, I headed for the front door where Mistress stood, leash in one hand, and handbag in the other.

She clipped the purple leash to my collar, gave it a quick tug to pull me down for a kiss, then handed me her handbag before turning for the door. Two steps behind, just the right amount of slack in the leash, no more no less. Mistress locked the door, then led me down to her little sports car.

The 20-minute ride to work was an adventure as always. Mistress almost always made sure to pull up to other cars so that their owners could look right in and see me sitting there holding coffee with my tits falling out of my dress. She always got a laugh when she pulled away from a stoplight and they would still be sitting there staring after us.