The Surgeon's Husband
by Shangbryan
http://shangbryan.deviantart.com/art/Th … -646079093

Scott felt the shift of weight on the bed, moving him just enough to wake him. His eyes opened a crack to find sunlight streaming in the windows. Morning, relentless, came for him.

He rolled onto his back to catch sight of his wife sauntering to the door. Nina, even more gorgeous than when they'd married. Credit belonged both to her exercise regimie and the surgeon's knife - she claimed she was the best advertisement for her own practice.

She'd caught his movement, putting her self in the doorway to be examined. Long, dark hair in perfect waves cascaded to her waist. Her eyebrows, perfectly arched, nose straight and regal, lips blush and her eyes an entirely natural crystalline blue. The efforts of a black sports top couldn't constain her chest, enormous plastic filled spheres, unnaturally round and just a bit bigger than her head. From there her body narrowed, tapering to a firm and slim as if it were corseted, thanks to the removal of some organs and a pair of ribs. Black booty shorts held her hips and butt, all firm curves, leading to her sculpted thighs and firm calves. Her feet angled into a pair of wedge-heel sneakers. Nina hadn't worn flats in decades.

"I'm going for a run," Nina told him. Scott nodded. It was about that time of the morning. "Be ready for me when I get back," she purred.

Nina often liked sex after a run - and Scott was her sex toy. He blew her a kiss and watched her go, until she finally made a turn to go down the stairs. Scott's head turned as he pondered his situation - lying in bed, limbless, with a massive erection thanks to Nina's teasing.

The courtship had been strange. Scott always found Nina beautiful, even before her procedures had amped her up to stunning, and thus he'd been smitten with her as soon as they met. That frat party had lead to hookups and dating, where Scott learned of Nina's other qualities - her brilliance, her intensity, her dominance. She was a dream woman, and as much as he wanted her, he discovered the only way to have her was to let himself be had.

That was the deal when they married. Nina committed to always take care of Scott, and Scott gave Nina blanket permission to mould him as she saw fit. She'd accepted, and as they planned the wedding over months, he'd wondered if the whole thing had been a trick, or a test, or perhaps a very perverse joke.

Scott looked at their wedding picture sitting on the bedside table. Nina, gorgeous in her gown, showing off her first set of implants - they'd seemed so big then - and Scott next to her, in a tuxedo without sleeves, as he'd lacked arms.

The wedding presaged the future. Nina built her practice, using Scott as an occasional model for some of her male clients, becoming both fantastically wealthy and known among the elite circles, where fashion and style and simple self-gratification took precidence over practicality or cost. By their first anniversary, Nina was ready to take his legs.

Through it all, she'd been feeding him designer nano-hormones to grow his organ. Now he shifted and swung the ponderous thing across his chest, where it rubbed his bulging pectorals. Nina's sense of humor there - for she put her torso-husband through regular electrostimulation treatments to give him the physique of a bodybuilder, one he couldn't have obtained naturally, let alone limbless. Scott shifted his hips and swung his shaft again, giving himself a long lick over his head.

"Daddy!" came a firm, strong voice in the doorway. A flush of embarassment crossed Scott's whole body. His younger daughter, Irene, stood in the doorway. A looker herself, she'd inherited her mother's dark hair and his own dark brown eyes. She stood, fit and lean, in just her panties and heels. She'd gotten the modification for her birthday several years ago, putting the girl permenantly en pointe, balancing on her toes. She'd taken six months to fully recover, and she'd never run again. Scott's throbbing shaft proved its appeal.

"Hi, baby girl," Scott answered, shifting on the bed, swinging his cock in a pendulous arc across his muscled chest.

"Mom went for a run?" Irene asked. Scott replied with a nod. Irene mmmed low. The teen took long steps with poise, balacncing on the tips of her toes and two thing stilletos. Today she wore her silver boots, one of her favorite pairs. The girl climbed up on the bed, moving herself in against the torso of her father.

"Feeling horny today?" Irene prodded. Scott nodded. "Hard not to be, sharing a bed with your mother."

"She's pretty hot," Irene agreed, sliding her right arm under her father's neck, snuggling in against his side. The bright red polish on her fingernails flashed as her left hand came down on his shaft near the base, stroking up along its length, turning around at reaching the head and going back down.

"Irene," Scott said, his voice breahty. "Mmm-humm?" his daughter replied, batting her eyes. "You shouldn't do this," he said. Irene answered with a petulant snort. "Why not?" Scott paused, biting his lip. "Your mother will want to use me when she gets back."

This Irene took as a sufficient answer. "Awh," she says with a pout. "And mom always talks about the value of sharing!" she protested. "Maybe ask her next time?" Scott suggested. Irene rolled her eyes, even as she nodded and slid off the bed.

"I'm going to the pool," she announced, and pranced off, hips swaying wildly thanks to her ballet heels.

Left alone again, Scott throbbed with need. Damn that girl! He moves his hips to swing his shaft, sliding over hier chest, head getting perilously close to his lips. If he could just get it in his mouth, he might get some relief....

...Ah hah! The bulbous head slid into his mouth, as he gave it a long lick with his tongue, about all he could manage. He tried to push down further, get more in his mouth, but that strained his muscles, and balanced, and as he released the cock swung free.

Worse off than ever.

Scott shifted himsef on the bed, hips one way, then shoulders, then hips, thens houlders, trying to wriggle just enough. Finally he flopped himself over, landing atop his thick, throbbing shaft. Trapped between the bed and his torso, his hips moved desperately, trying to jack himself off into the bed. The effort wore at his muscles, even as his need built.

"I do love to see you exercise," Nina said from the doorway. How long had Scott been at it? He couldn't recall, just knew his need. "Nina!" he croaked. She glistened with sweat and exertion, and couldn't have looked more gorgeous.

The surgeon sauntered over to her customized husband. She sat on the bed and reached over, scooping Scott up without much trouble, sitting him in her lap, facing away. The woman leaned in just enough to press her silicone-perfect tits to his back, her hands wrapping around to stroke his cock.

She nibbled his earlobe from behind. "See that?" she said. Now up off the bed, Scott coult see out their bedroom window, to the back patio on the pool, and Irene, lying out on a chair ot sunbathe, naked except for her boots. Her pert little rear, her long legs, her slim waist.

Nina stroked him, unrelenting. "Dirty daddy," she hissed. "Getting all worked up for your daughter." "But I..." Steve protested, until Nina clapped a hand over his mouth. "Tonight," Nina said, her voice husky, "She'll join us. Learn how to use mommy's toy."

A groan came from behind Nina's hand. Scott's steroidal torso shuddered and arched and his groan became a growl. A torrent of cum fired from his shaft, the first rope free to slam against the ceiling, the next getting caught by Nina's hand, and in turn run along him to lubricate. She kept jacking him as he released, draining his oversized balls one extended pulse after the other.

Scott panted, barely conscious as the orgasmic onslaught faded. Nina kissed his neck and nibbled his ear. "You'd better be that energetic tonight," she told him, and laughed.