Message-ID: <2203eli$9707201353@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Francis Dashwood Subject: Lauren Gisal Book 1 (25/39 ff/mf/Ff/Mf,inc,cons,nc) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <199707201531.JAA20945@shaman.lycaeum.org> Lauren Gisal The following fiction portrays events that will be considered offensive by some people in that graphic scenes are described of sexual intercourse by teenagers, adults, with and without their consent. Later chapters deal with punishment. If you are offended by such material then read no further and delete this file. You will note that by way of the plot and characterisation that there is no intent to condone or encourage similar behaviour. Indeed, it is clear that the story serves as a warning. The author hereby permits the redistribution of the attached material on the understanding that it is not for financial gain and it is credited to the author, Francis Dashwood. Chapter 25 Sunday 30th August, 4pm Maurice Gisal had spent the majority of the afternoon in the lounge. He had been having a quick snooze if anyone had asked, although Daniele knew that he would sleep for hours if left alone. When the children were young, a snooze on the sofa was a luxury, and in those days they had rarely needed it. But now with the children older, it still seemed a little naughty, but a quick sleep after lunch certainly had a fortifying effect. He usually read a book for a while until his eyelids grew heavy, and then shut his eyes with the book on his stomach. He was reposed this way when the telephone bell jarred him out of his dream and back to reality. Daniele tried to answer the phone before he awoke, but to no avail. "Hello, Gisal residence" Maurice squinted while his eyes adjusted to the light. He sat up on the sofa, swinging his legs onto the floor. "AnneMarie! How are you. How was the honeymoon?" He exchanged several grunts while he obviously listened to her news, his smile broadening as she told him of the wonderful time they had spent abroad. "Yes, I know, Lauren told us all about it. She said she had a great day, and that you looked so pretty....No, she's out at the moment, can I give her a message?" Maurice stared blankly at the wall as he listened. "To me? Oh OK, what can I do for you?" The smile vanished from his lips. "What's wrong, dear?" asked Daniele. Her husband shook his head, raising his hand to silence her. "Look, I've known you a long time, and you've known her just as long. If this is some kind of joke, I find it in the poorest of taste!" her said sternly, frowning at the carpet. "I'm sorry, I just don't believe that Lauren would do such a thing. This is ridiculous, for Christsakes, she's only thirteen!" His face grew red and his breathing shortened as he listened to the unfolding story. "What is it Maurice, what's happened. Tell me!" shouted Daniele, tugging his arm. "Just a minute!" he said into the phone, covering the mouthpiece. "It's AnneMarie. She says that ... Hey, did you know that she used to live with a woman. I mean, really live with, like husband and wife?" "No, I didn't" "Well, just before her wedding, they had a reunion of some of her past friends, and someone - she says - had some photos of Lauren naked!" "Oh. That's stupid!" she said, smiling as though he had made a joke. "I can't believe it. It's obviously a mistake, Maurice." "Annemarie, where are these photos?" His eyes darted around the room as she responded, his face growing paler now as the facts began to mount and tip the scales from `unlikely' to `plausible'. "Yes, she's been seeing him for a few weeks now. You don't mean...I thought he was too good to be true." He paused again, listening to Annemarie. Daniele tried to get Maurice to let go of the phone so that she could talk. "You say that, but I'm not so sure. He may be a victim but if he's in the pictures, then he's bloody guilty. I'll have the little bastard in court tomorrow." "Maurice, please, let me talk to her!" she said, taking the phone. She listened for several minutes while Maurice fumed quietly, walking up and down the lounge, the look on his face changing every time she spoke as he tried to catch any inference from his wife's questioning that might give him some hope that there had been a terrible mistake. Eventually, after some quiet questions and much nodding, Daniele signed off, her eyes filling with tears. "Well?" asked Maurice. "She's in trouble, I think. Not just these photos, I think there's more. Annemarie said that Kristal was also at this reunion in the hotel, with her new girlfriend, and they stayed the night." Daniele reached for a tissue to dab her eyes. "But Lauren wasn't at this reunion, was she?" "No, but she was discussed. Seems she's been doing some modeling, for money, and it's gone a bit too far" "This is all unbelievable. Our little girl, showing her body off for money. Where the hell did she learn how to do that? Eh? Where is she now?" "She's at Nikki's." "OK, let's take a look in her room and see if there's anything that can prove this story one way or the other." They trudged up the stairs, fearful of what they may find. It had been their biggest fear that one day they would have to do just this, search one of the children's rooms for drugs or evidence, but they had never dreamed that they would be looking for evidence to support Annemarie's theories. Daniele opened the door and started at her bedside cabinet, careful not to disturb the contents too much, just in case this was all an enormous mistake. Maurice searched her desk drawers while Daniele continued with her school bag. Five minutes later, Maurice held up a red book and asked the question they had been dreading. "Where did this come from?" He held a passbook of the Thun Trustee Bank, open at the fifth page showing an account balance of one thousand three hundred francs. "Who gave her all this money? I certainly didn't." He thumbed through the preceding pages until he saw the address. "Hey, look, this is twenty kilometers from here, but it's in her name!" The utter disappointment showed in their faces as he threw it on the bed and continued the search. Daniele opened the top drawer of her four drawer chest, rummaging through the underwear and tights. She found a hairbrush that she hadn't seen before, wrapped in Dior knickers with a bra and chemise that she certainly had never washed for her daughter. Turning her back to her husband, she brought the brush to her nose and inhaled, recognising immediately its purpose. However, the underwear was more sinister, and she tossed the lingerie on the bed. Maurice turned as the clothes flopped down, took a look at the label and walked towards the door. "I'm going to call Nikki's father. He may have some insight into all this" "But, what if he hasn't?" "Well, then I'll just tell Lauren to get home immediately. She's got a lot of explaining to do already as far as I'm concerned!" Maurice Gisal sat down in his chair in the lounge and looked up Nikki's number in their phone book. He stared out of the window as he waited. He asked simply to speak to Lauren. "Oh, any idea when they'll be back?" he asked, twirling the cord of the phone round his fingers as his concern grew. " Left at seven o'clock? You mean this morning? That's very early - especially for Lauren on a Sunday. Where did they go?" He shook his head again. "Look, Andre, I think they may be in some sort of trouble." And with that introduction, he recounted the tale that Annemarie had given him. He glossed over much of the photographic part, saying that maybe both girls had been hanging around with the wrong types. He did mention however, just for added weight, that they had found a bank passbook in Lauren's room showing a large balance. "Andre, can you do the same and let me know if you find anything. I'm going to do some more investigating here.....Yeah, thanks, I'll call you later. I just hope that this is all a big mistake." Maurice turned to his wife and took her hand. "They went out at about seven o'clock this morning. Someone collected them. Jean will be back in about two hours and she knows where they've gone, but Andre's going to take a look at her bedroom and give us a call. You know, I don't like the sound of this." 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