Message-ID: <3463eli$9708291136@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Francis Dashwood Subject: Lauren Gisal Book 2 Chapter 55-57 of 59 (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: <199708290109.TAA13714@shaman.lycaeum.org> Lauren Gisal Volume Two The following fiction portrays events that will be considered offensive to some people. 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, or if you are considered a minor in your country, then delete this file. 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. Please do not request reposts of this material. Constructive criticism is welcomed. Chapter 55 Lauren had no recollection of leaving the lounge, of being cut from the chair and taken to her bedroom with the ropes still tight around her wrists. She vaguely knew that Emma had bathed her while she lay on her stomach on the bed, dousing the raging heat in her buttocks and thighs with so many cold flannels that the bed was decidedly wet. Fortunately, Lauren was unable to see the blood that Emma squeezed out of the flannel with every trip to the bathroom. Lauren cried relentlessly, sobbing as Emma tried to smooth her buttocks, caresing them with suntan cream she had found beneath the sink. The stinging ebbed slowly, turning into a dull ache that seemed to prevent her from moving properly. Five hours after she left the lounge, still in agony, she cried herself to sleep for the first time in maybe fifteen years. She woke early, the pain still very much in evidence as she rolled carefully onto her side. Her back ached and she now realised that her anus hurt badly. Curling into a ball, she cupped her buttocks, testing each palm-sized area of skin for damage. She opened her eyes, smiling gently as Emma slept soundly opposite. Her recollection of the previous day was already fuzzy. She knew that something terrible had happened, and remembered the whip well. But her mind had shit out many of the details and although she spent the hours follwoing dawn running through the dreadful punishment, little came to mind. Emma brought Lauren up to date about the show after she had passed out, and how ugly Maria's wound had looked, the great red stripes across her thighs and over her pussy. The streaks of the whip had even shown through the dense black pubic hair, according to Emma, and the conversation naturally turned to Lauren's injuries. With little convincing, Lauren had allowed Emma to help her roll onto her back. Emma pulled on her regulation shirt and sat beside Lauren, the little girl's face reflecting the extent of Lauren's terrible ordeal. With a warm flannel, Emma cleaned her again, rinsing down from her breasts, over her navel and over her thighs. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, to which Lauren acceeded to the request and parted her legs. Emma gasped as she saw the red marks for the first time in daylight. The whip seemed to have wrapped around her thighs, the thongs and knots digging into her flesh at precise intervals. Emma rinsed, parting her legs before laying the warm flannel over her pussy. As the pleasure seeped in, Lauren sniffed, fighting back the inclination to cry yet again. To the utter surprise of Lauren, Maria did indeed return their passports the next day, even apologising for the delay. She seemed changed, almost apologetic, and most certainly made no reference to the show they had put on for the General. Lauren remained convinced that the return of the documents was linked to her performance (and humiliation) at the hands of the General and his weird entourage. The whole household seemed to be in shock as people walked quietly around, desperate to avoid eye contact and cautious in their conversation. The following day Lauren wandered out of the house and conducted a leisurely tour of the grounds of the house, realising as she walked further that even though they had their passports, leaving the place was easier said than done. As far as she looked were hills, dense jungle, brilliant blue skies. The occasional screech of a macaw and the incessant din from the cicadas were the only sounds to be heard during the hot afternoon sun. She carefully sat down on the wall, watching the tiny red ants scurrying over the old stones, busy going nowhere. Her freedom was useless. Movement in the undergrowth on the far side of the road. Her heart leapt as she looked slightly to the side of the source of the noise, watching the branches move. It must be a pretty large animal to move the leaves like that, she thought, dropping to the ground quietly, preparing to run for the safety of the house. "Psst!" Lauren stared at the undergrowth, now able to discern the dark grey of a man's shirt. "What?" she replied, wondering whether she should have ignored it and made her way inside anyway. Deciding she still had the wall between him and herself, she stood her ground. "It's me, Peter." She smiled, overjoyed that there was someone apart from those in the house that she knew, who could possibly help them. Someone worldly-wise, resourceful. He broke cover and looked around him, up and down the dusty road before making his way across to sit the other side of the wall, out of sight of the house. "You're in trouble, or do you know that?" "We've got our passports back, and can leave when we want to." she replied defensively. "You got them back with sex, right?" "Maybe" hissed Lauren, looking into the jungle where he had appeared. "That's just the beginning. You need to leave as soon as possible. Don't ask for a lift, just run." "Why? They've promised to take us to the Venezuelan border and avoid the uprising and fighting" "Fighting stopped last week, country's almost back to normal" he said, waiting for it to sink in. "I saw you a week ago. I know this woman who runs the place. She makes films, right?" "Yeah, I haven't seen any though" "Don't, or you won't sleep" "Why?" "They involve sex, but the stars rarely live to see the finished film." Lauren's head whirled, blood coursing through her body. "I met a couple of refugees about a month ago, just by chance. They had run through the night, pursued by her troops. There were four initially." "But it's so far from anywhere. How did you get here?" "By truck, then walked across that hill to find you." She was touched by his help, and realised that he must have walked for the best part of the morning to find the old house. She leaned over to see him. "No, keep looking up, don't let them know I'm here or you really have had it. Your best chance is to come out together just as you did this afternoon. Come out of the house separately after your evening meal and each make your way over this wall and to the little opening that I came through. I'll meet you. Bring nothing or you'll give the game away. Once we start to run, we must keep moving. No stopping or God knows what'll happen." "What, tonight?" "Yeah, you can't wait any longer. Lauren, believe me, she's a whacko. Tell the children as late as possible. Don't give them time to think or give the game away, OK?" She looked out at the hills, the dense undergrowth and thought of the brambles, the insects, mud, snakes and other inhabitants that would feast on her. The house was so safe, cool, there was food, television, a bed. "I don't know....there's Juan and Julie as well in there" "Oh great, more! Don't be stupid Lauren. You have no goddamn choice. I can't hang around here. What time do you finish tea?" "Six thirty, maybe a bit later." "OK, tell the children at six forty-five. Have them change their clothes, put on socks and shoes, and tell the boys to leave first. Then the girls, then you, in ten minute intervals. I'll be here. If you don't show by eight o'clock, then I'll leave and you'll have to look after yourselves. Got it?" She watched him slink silently back into the undergrowth, disappearing from sight with a feint rustle of leaves then walked back to the house, striding purposefully, energised into planning their next few hours. She moved cautiously, his words causing her alarm as she looked at the house with open, wiser eyes. Jamie was slumped on the sofa, watching Spanish trash on the television. She sat on the floor in front of him, relating the plan and showing with her stern expression that she was both deadly serious and back in command. Without waiting for an answer, she rose and went to find Emma. She checked the kitchen, thinking that Emma might have offered to help with the preparation of their meal, but the kitchen was empty although some salad seemed to be ready, and she could smell the familiar spicy beef that simmered quietly on the stove. She wandered into their own room, and heard Emma humming from the bathroom. Gently, she pushing the door open and peered round the corner. Emma lay against the end of the bath, eyes closed, trailing her hands in the water, dreaming of something that clearly amused her. Respecting her privacy, Lauren retreated back into the bedroom, shut the door nosily and shouted out for her. "In here. Won't be a minute." "Hurry up!" she said, looking around at the clothes on offer. Army shirts, a couple of pair of knickers and the old T-shirts and jeans that had worn on their arrival. She heard the bath water draining away and the door squeak open. Emma stood naked except for a towel around her shoulders, framed in the doorway. "What's up?" she asked, smiling. "Come on, you need to get dressed." Emma slipped over to the bed, sitting with one foot pressed against the opposite thigh. Her little girl pussy, tight, spotless, gleamed between her tanned legs while her breasts poked out behind the towel. "Why, what's happening?" "Emma, we have to leave. But secretly." she confided, dropping the clothes she had collected at the foot of the bed. "Tonight, after we've eaten. I've already told Jamie." Emma looked down into her naked lap, a look of pain on her face. "Lori?" "What?" she asked, quietly, touching her knee in this time of crisis. "Do you still like me?" "Emma! Of course! What makes you say that?" Emma shrugged, her lower lip trembling in preparation for the tears that seemed certain to follow. Lauren drank in the sight of her body, the freshness and purity of her skin so delectable that her heart raced. She squeezed her leg. "Since we've been here, you've just ignored me, you know!" "Oh Emma! Times here have been very difficult, sweety." she said, feeling equally miserable that Emma should even have to mention the topic. "But, you could just curl up in bed with me." A tear that had be welling up fell on to her leg. "Hey." said Lauren, wiping the tear away from her pussy. "When we get home, we'll stay together, I promise" Emma was silent. Sensing her mistrust, Lauren leaned towards her and kissed her gently on the forehead. Emma held Lauren's arm, encouraging her. The sobbing ebbed as Lauren kissed her ear, causing Emma to chuckle. Pleased with the progress, and sure that this was going to be needed to get Emma's full cooperation, Lauren pushed her gently over onto her side. She pecked at her shoulders, feeling the girl's heart pounding through her chest, sliding slowly down to take each glorious nipples between her lips. Conscious that she had to be quick, she slithered over her navel, licking as Emma's legs parted, down over her stomach towards her young sex. Moving now between her legs, Lauren slipped her hands under the teenager's buttocks, pulling her up towards her mouth. Breathing over her pussy, she probed quickly with her tongue, teasing open the labia, rewarded with the taste and silkiness of her vagina. Open- mouthed, Lauren kissed her pussy hard, driving her tongue as deep as she could inside the girl, straining to delve as far as she could inside the lovely heat of her body. Lauren withdrew, pecking at her lips, flicking the folds that still covered her clitoris. Slowly, she lowered the girl back onto the bed and slipped up to rest with her. Lauren slid her arm around Emma's shoulders and pulled her tight. She had forgotten the illicit taste of Emma, the purity of her body and the responsiveness that had shocked her that first night. The tight, perfect skin and the way she moved, so baby-like, fresh, exploratory and innocent in a way that was so endearing it made Lauren want to scream with delight. "I promise, Emma. I think you're wonderful." Emma breathed in loudly. "Lori, that's all I needed. Just, you know, a hug, a little kiss." Lauren looked at the ceiling, unable to think of any response that would adequately answer her. She hugged her tight, slipping her arm around her waist and lay with her, re- organizing her thoughts, her priorities. She dressed Emma, watching her young pouting sex six inches from her eyes as she helped her on with her knickers, pulling them up slowly and carefully as the fine blonde hairs disappeared from sight. The material tightly hugged her buttocks and the elastic pinged noisily as Lauren let go, stepping back to help her on with her T- Shirt. They spent five minutes collecting necessities for the journey. A trip with only a beginning, no known destination or duration, not even a known outcome, just escape from a potential nightmare that Lauren was reluctant to share with Emma in any great detail. But Lauren was relieved that the children had accepted her authority once again. During their evening meal, Maria stuck her head into the kitchen so say she was off out to finalize their move to Venezuela. Lauren nodded, thanking her, stating with flashing eyes that she would wait up for her return, just in case she needed any more information. "I'm going to get some flowers from the garden when I've finished tea!" announced Emma. Her theatrical tone made Lauren cringe. She shot a glance at Maria, reassured to see that she had taken in innocence. Maria nibbled at her own food, standing by the kitchen window, looking out at the gathering clouds and gusts of wind that ruffled the bushes nearby. Lauren watched her, left hand on her hip as she absently forked her food. Her hair hung loosely over her back, shining, healthy. Her bare brown legs promised so much, their ultimate treasure hidden by the short skirt. Lauren shifted on her chair, rubbing herself in her dreamworld. Maria turned, smiled radiantly at Emma, then waved good-bye. "Grab a bag from the drawer and go pick flowers. Slowly, there's no hurry, remember. Listen for traffic before you cross the wall." She watched as the girl rose, took the bag and left the kitchen, passing by the window as though off on an evening walk of the grounds. Lauren glanced at the clock. Six forty-five. Her heart beat wildly, fear rising inside her at the thought of the next few days and their reckless bid for freedom. She collected the dirty plates with shaking hands and dropped them gently into the sink. "Fridge stuff" she said to Jamie. He took a bottle of milk, chocolate bars, cheese and some cold meat. They both knew that the food would spoil in less than a day, but at least it would keep them going until they could find something else. At six fifty-five, Lauren slipped out of the room, following in Emma's footsteps. She felt she was walking too fast, making her way almost directly to the front gate. Detouring a little, she wandered aimlessly for a while, turning to surreptitiously look at each of the windows that faced the road, checking for any signs of life. She knew that there would be two soldiers somewhere, but had never really thought of timing them or working out their daily schedule. With a tinge of sorrow, she turned and made her way to the wall, plucking a flower on the way before sitting and pulling the petals off, one by one. She heard the rustling behind her and a whisper. "All clear!" hissed Peter's voice. Her heart beat wildly as blood surged to her head. Imitating soldiers she had seen on television, she slipped off the wall and crouched tight against it's side, breathing hard. Then she saw him, kneeling behind brambles. She looked both ways along the road, heard nothing, then scampered across the road, tripping as she entered the undergrowth and scratching her hand on the brambles. "Shit!" she hissed, staring at Peter as though blaming him for choosing such a dangerous place. "Take it easy." he said, catching her arm. "Keep going back there. It's easier going and Emma's waiting for you." She stumbled on, smiling weakly at Emma as she realised now that should anyone raise the alarm, they would be hunted down like animals. Wiping the cut on her jeans, she turned back to wait for Jamie. He arrived silently less than five minutes later, and joined the girls with Peter close behind him. "Did you leave the message for Maria?" "You did what?" asked Peter, incredulously. "Yeah. It just said that we'd gone to bed early, and we'd talk in the morning. Thanks for the work on getting us out." Peter nodded in agreement, then snaked back to the roadside to collect Juan and Julie. "What about Maria, did she leave?" asked Lauren. "Yeah, just before Emma arrived." replied Peter. "Now, single file, everyone follow me. We've got a lot of ground to cover overnight. Every 15 minutes we'll stop, but as it gets cooler we should try and keep going longer." He looked at them all, watching their expressions which showed little belief. "Come on, we'll make it." Lauren took hold of his arm, pulling him closer. He recoiled slightly, possibly fearing a kiss. Lauren smiled at his reaction. "We just want to say thanks!" she said sincerely. He nodded, grinned and led off into the thick forest. As they walked further, the going became easier, allowing them to stand up and walk normally. With frequent stops for water and tired feet, they covered about ten miles in the first four hours. Sticking away from the roads to avoid any traffic, they trudged silently north. Lauren found herself quietly pleased, enjoying the time to herself, to ruminate, let her mind wander even more than usual. Her thoughts returned to Maria as she desperately tried to fit her character to that of murderer, as suggested by Peter. In many ways, Maria reminded her of Emma. So sensuous at one moment, then a complete sea change in a matter of seconds. Both beauties, alone, seeking companionship. But Emma's mean side was revengeful, punishing, vindictive, whereas Maria seemed to do it because it was necessary, expected of her, an order. Either way, concluded Lauren, they could both be spiteful, and Maria had the backing of her "Uncle" to help her get her way. She smiled, realising that she found them both quite irresistible. As the night worn on, Lauren found herself snagging her clothing more frequently on bushes and the outcrops of rocks that lined their path. She had no idea at all how Peter was managing to steer them, but he seemed to keep a reasonably straight line, obstacles permitting, and never once faltered or seemed confused. On more than one occasion she wondered though if their goal of reaching Boquette and the safety of a true government stronghold was too adventurous, especially since it was at least one hundred miles. Her thoughts tangled into one strong, central force. Survive. Get back to Boquette, wash, sleep, and survive. The only way to do that was to keep walking and avoid being caught by any of the Nationalists. And so, walking in the dark, the three girls and two boys followed Peter. But her thoughts also meandered around herself. The burning question she sought to solve was how she could desert the children so easily when there was even the slimmest hope of sex. Not just a man, any sex. Just as Emma had pointed out, she hadn't really tried to escape. She had been in the bath willingly with Maria. And just as Maria had said - she recalled with crushing embarrassment - lying on Maria's bed, having been threatened hours earlier. Maria simply touching her, promise, suggestion in her fingertips, and 'wham!' she was anybody's. Sex occupied her thoughts almost all the time. Sex and how to get satisfaction. It was surely unnatural. Dammit, there weren't continual sex scenes in the Sound of goddamn Music. Same predicament though. She caught herself staring at Peter's buttocks. His legs were strong, hairy, dependable. She wondered if she would make love to him. It seemed likely. She tested herself. If he pulled her into the bushes and dropped his trousers would she take hold of his cock? She thought hard, imagining the circumstances, the look on his face, where the other's might be. The answer was 'probably'. Would she have sex with him on the mountain? Definitely not, they were too filthy. She ran through the others, sorting them in order of sexual attraction. Jamie had to be last. He was nice, but not a turn-on. Emma was lovely, a pretty doll who clearly loved her. That left Juan - no thanks but clearly a sensitive lover - Peter and Julie. She watched Julie, clambering over a rock, muscles bulging in her thighs without being masculine. She held a certain fascination, mystique, uncharted territory. Lauren imagined her in the bath, bubbles cascading down her ... "Oh shit!" screamed Lauren, falling hard against the ground. She grazed her hand as she reached out to break her fall. "Jeeze, didn't you see it? It's pretty big, right?" asked Emma. "Yeah, sure. I wasn't watching, that's all. Shit, that damn well hurt!" She looked at her wrist, scratched badly, blood dribbling down into the palm of her hand. She wrapped her hand in her T-Shirt and walked on, the grazes on her knees now making their presence known as her legs began to ache. "Shit!" Occasionally their path took them close to the road and the straggle of refugees. They too seemed to walk at night, pushing themselves to get home, to discover what had happened to their houses, their livestock, their friends. The paths were blocked frequently by huge cacti or wild thorn bushes, their prickles difficult to deal with even in the moonlight. She cursed them often, holding the branches back for the others to pass. Dirt tracks off the main road criss-crossed their own makeshift path, leading higher up the mountains to isolated houses. She knew in the day their roofs shone in bright colours rather than the drab grey of Europe. Rustling in the undergrowth stopped them on the third morning. Lauren was pleased to stop every time they heard something ahead, her nerves were on edge and she suspected that everyone else felt a bit shell-shocked. Each time it had been an animal, but each time they had treated it was deadly concern, squatting down to the side of their path, resting, staring into the blackness for a sign, and outline of what lay ahead. A goat, on this occasion still tethered to a stout iron pole, sniffed at the ground, turning stones with it's snout in search of food. The further north they walked, the more relaxed they felt. Peter ventured out onto the road as they passed a large group of refugees that had gathered expectantly at a cross- roads. He wandered on in their direction, ambling off into the undergrowth before doubling back to report his findings. "Seems it's all over. Nobody has seen any Nationalists since two days ago. Certainly not round here. We should walk on the road when it's dark tonight I think, we'll make it back to your place much faster." It was later that day that Juan realised that they were less than ten miles from his old house where he had been staying before setting off for the south. They stopped after he and Peter had discussed it for several minutes so the whole group could debate what the best course of action was, given that they had still seen nothing of the Nationalists during their trek. Everyone was tired as they sat in the sweltering afternoon sun. Juan hugged Julie as much as the heat and decency would allow, confirming in Lauren's eyes that he had made up his mind. She really looked wonderful, even though sweat poured from her forehead, her hair matted against her face. Her T-Shirt was torn and her jeans almost useless, flashes of her pink knickers showing through. Great rips at about waist height that had also cut through and torn her skin. She was filthy, hands black with dust and grime, her trainers torn, curling at the toes. But underneath, Lauren recalled her pure skin, the muscular look to her shoulders, the fine covering of pubic hair that had parted when Juan slipped a finger into her pussy. She had been so loving that afternoon with him, caring, feeling and responding with her hands, caressing him even as he bent her backwards on the seat and thrust into her. Lauren nodded, agreeing with herself that there was something supremely erotic about the girl, with or without clothes, dirty or clean. Her thoughts turned again to how she might wash her but went no further than running the water. Juan stood, wished them well, turned, and walked west towards the scattered buildings far in the distance. A lump formed in Lauren's throat as she watched both Juan and the desperation on Julie's face, tears flowing down the girl's cheeks as her lover disappeared into the undergrowth. Lauren caught herself, about to utter something pointless along the lines of not worrying, she would see him again, and simply pulled her to her shoulder, allowing her to weep freely, tears washing a clean furrow through her grimy face. Their confidence grew after that night, so much so that when they came across a major road heading north, they left the road and crouched in the trees, calculating whether it would be safe to join the steady stream of refugees that trudged north. Peter had looked at each of them, trying to judge how easily they would pass for locals. Their clothes were tatty, their faces blotched, reddened from the sun, dusty and dried. They agreed that they would join the trickle of people one at a time, at three minute intervals, rather than as a group. That was, if one was stopped, the others might have a chance to escape. Their hunger and the dreadful heat caused them naturally to look down despondently at the road, following whoever was in front silently. Glancing at others along the way, Lauren tried to judge whether they had found food anywhere that she might have missed, or whether a group had some unfair advantage. But her suspicions were confirmed gradually as the journey unfolded and details were learnt from fellow refugees. The government had re-taken control of the country and offered the Nationalists the chance to talk, on the understanding that a cease-fire was respected. Various accounts put the cease- fire at almost two weeks old. Initially, one old woman said, nobody moved, fearing to return home in case fighting broke out again. But as the peace progressed, the trickle became a stream until much of the country was heading north, supervised by U.N. troops and the government. Their caution about staying apart, though wise, was unnecessary. Continuing their steady march, they made the outskirts of Boquette in less than two days, buying a ride on an ancient bus for three hundred dollars of Peter's money, more than bus could ever have been worth, and certainly more money than the old driver had ever seen. For Lauren, though, the greatest shock lay waiting for her north of Boquette, on the road to the house. Her elation at their trek and the obvious happy outcome was apparent and infectious. As they crested the hill that led up from the bay towards home, a rickety tractor approached from behind. It's rhythmic putter resonated along the road. Lauren turned to see the huge phallic chimney stack belching fumes in to the afternoon air and turned away, holding her breath. As it crawled past, she looked up. Her heart leapt as disbelief tensed her muscles. Sitting on the back of the low loader was Felix, his arm around a little girl - clearly his daughter - and another woman leaning against him with a young boy. The very picture of the happy family. "Er, Lauren, that's ..." muttered Emma from behind. Lauren fumed, her face reddening as she stared at the group through slit eyes. "I know, that little shit." She replayed every scene at fast forward through her mind. Now she realised why he couldn't stay the night. It had nothing to do with work, he simply went home to his wife. And the reason he seemed so accomplished in bed was that he'd had sex with his wife for years, 'probably every bloody day' thought Lauren. Or perhaps not, that was why he came by the gallon whenever they made love. She correct herself. No, they had sex, they didn't make love. She shook her head, trying to work out why she had never even suspected that he could have been married. The only comment Emma received was a thin smile from Lauren and threats to rearrange his anatomy with the bread knife. She was unsure whether he had seen her or not, but as the stark facts sank in it served to strengthen her stride and bring her up alongside Peter. They chatted again, as they had done almost continually since their escape, arm in arm, comrades, war heroes. Ironically, he had felt embarrassed that the Nationalist hadn't tried to snatch them back, and he therefore had wondered out loud if he had made a terrible mistake. But his tales of the films - some he had seen and others he had heard about - seemed vivid and almost plausible enough to justify their clandestine escape. As they entered the gravel driveway of the house she held his hand, pulling him close to her side as a gesture of thanks. Chapter 56 There was relief and delight not just at finally opening the two huge front doors of the house, but with the fact that everything appeared to have been left undisturbed. In their month away, Jamie found that the lounge windows had been boarded up and the woodwork surround had been replaced and painted, probably in preparation for new glass. "Looks like the landlord has been and done a few repairs." he announced passing through the kitchen. While Julie, Juan and Peter slowly followed them around, the children explored, checking that their respective rooms had been left alone. Satisfied that almost everything was normal, they gathered in the kitchen. "The pool's been patched up, but the pump sounds like it's going to explode. Water's clear, though." "Ahh!" cried Lauren as she opened the fridge. The smell crept out, nauseating the group in seconds. "Jesus, what the hell was in there?" asked Peter. "I've no idea, but I bet it could walk out on it's own. Jeeze, what a stink!" smiled Jamie, handing her a cloth. It took most of the evening to clear up, make beds and move the food out of the spare room and into the utility area. Jamie and Lauren would stay in their separate rooms while Julie would stay in Emma's room on a mattress. Peter agreed to stay the night on the sofa which pulled out to make a reasonable queen-sized bed. Everyone took turns using the phone, reporting to the embassy that they were safe. Although the line was crackly, Lauren was overjoyed to hear that they had her name on the register, and the embassy staff sounded truly pleased that she was safe, well and at home. She was almost certain too that they said they would get a message to her parents in the next couple of days. After ringing off, she tried to phone them herself, but despite dialing five or six times, received no ringing tone from Switzerland. Jamie, helped by Peter, brought the air conditioning back on and watched carefully as the gas boiler roared into life to provide hot water. Just before bed, they wandered out into the grounds, checking the fences and making sure there were no dead bodies or other inconveniences lurking in the shadows. Emma came running back from the stables to report with unconcealed delight that the horses had gone. Lauren waved goodnight to her friends and shut her door quietly. Her bed beckoned, the silk bedspread shining in the gloom of the evening. She fell, face down on top if it, hugging it's coolness, smiling and bubbling at the thought of having escaped so successfully. She was sorely tempted to strip and fall asleep on the spot, but pushed herself to wander through into her bathroom and wash. She tore off her T-Shirt and threw it in the corner, deciding that the best thing would be simply to throw it away in the morning. She slipped off the remains of her jeans, and peeled her filthy knickers off down her legs. Four days of sweat and grime had blackened them to a state that she had not thought possible. Naked, she stretched above her head, turning to look at herself in the mirror. Her face was definitely blotchy, her cheeks red, almost swollen by the sun and rough living. Great black streaks seemed to have channeled into her face where sweat had coursed down during their trek. Her tan remained intact, but her hips seemed more pronounced, not because she had put weight on, but because she had lost it, sweated it all away during their one hundred mile sauna through the country. Admittedly, a large part had been in the bus, but that had been hot if not strenuous. She grabbed her buttocks, squeezing them, parting her cheeks as the cool air flowed around her legs. A hand cupped her pussy, grinding against the thick mat of her pubic hair. She scratched in the most unladylike fashion, bringing her fingers up to her nose. It was quite apparent that tired or not, she desperately needed to wash. The shower water was luke warm at best, but that scarcely mattered as she pulled the curtain around and stepped under the jet. Raising her arms, she let the water pummel her body, massaging her back into life. The water flowed down her legs, still clean to her surprise. However, once the soap took effect, great black streams of dirt appeared, and every time she rubbed her skin, the water changed colour. Ten minutes later, she stepped out, dripping and incredulous that there had been so much dirt and moreover, that she could have even considered going to bed without washing. In her lounge, she slumped on the sofa and flicked on the TV. The rerun of a western that she had seen when she first arrived made her smile. Still naked and dripping water, she absently rested her right foot on the arm of the sofa and laid back to watch the film. Her fingers found her pussy, reawakening her with feelings that had been absent for almost a week. The message said 'play with me' but reality beckoned. She turned off the TV, and slid into bed, hugging the pillow as she drifted into her dreamworld. Lauren woke at seven, and even though her clock agreed, she distrusted it enough to get up, wash and dress in her father's great white shirt and clean (oh joy!) knickers before making her way to the kitchen. Passing the lounge, she spied Peter, flat on his stomach on the sofabed. Her breathed heavily, his frame pushing up the thin sheet that covered him. She leant against the doorway, watching. He was broad-shouldered, strong, and tall. His clothes lay scattered around the room just as though they had been ripped from his body the night before. Alarm bells rang briefly in her head. Julie, Emma? Surely not. She tip- toed into the kitchen, made coffee as quickly as possible and returned to sit on the side of his bed. "Hey, wakey wakey! Another thirty miles to do!" The lack of five days shaving was apparent, stubble beginning to lay evenly over his face. "Ohh!" he grumbled, rolling onto his back with a broad smile. She sat facing him, offering the coffee as he looked around for another pillow to help him sit upright. "Jeeze, I really ache" "Yeah, so do I. You should use the pool today, relax in the sun a bit." He nodded, pushing the pillow behind him as he gathered the sheet around his waist. He had a hairy chest, muscular with rounded shoulders and strong arms. His eyes wandered over Lauren, dwelling momentarily on her long legs as he sipped his coffee. Lauren recalled her thoughts about Peter, how he had tied for first place with Julie. She knew it would end up like his tale of his past girlfriend, probably even worse until she herself returned to Switzerland. After the uprising, and assuming that everything settled down, he was unlikely to return to San Falino on business. "I must call work, tell them I'll be out of contact for a couple of days." "Ohh, right!" "Oh, sorry, if that's OK. I mean, well...you know." Lauren nodded, smiling assent. She shifted slightly, facing him. "I can show you round. The car's still here, and we could go into Boquette. In fact, we could all go out for lunch. I've got the housekeeping credit card!" He smiled, leaning over to find somewhere to put his coffee. Lauren took it from him, placing it safely by the fireplace. "You look nice and cool. How hot is it today?" She shrugged. "My father's." she said, posing to show off the shirt. "Suits you." His eyes probed beneath the shirt tails. "Didn't Jamie say the pool was working?" "Yep. You'd have to borrow some of his Dad's swimming trunks. You're much too big for his." said Lauren innocently. As the words sank in she smiled, shaking her with embarrassment, shifting closer to him. He toured her body again with his gaze, pleasure in his eyes quite apparent as he leaned back against his pillow, his movement and body inviting, casual. Lauren leaned across him, placing her left hand the other side of his legs, still not touching but confirming interest. Her legs shifted once again, the tanned highway in line with his head. "Hey!" exclaimed Lauren as though discovering something revolutionary, "do you want a bath? You can use mine if you want?" Her mind told that the offer was as far as she wanted to go at that moment. If he had pulled her down and kissed her, she would have reciprocated willingly. And perhaps there was a short future in a relationship with him, by way of thanks rather than anything else, but sex in the lounge had been tried before and was definitely too risky. "I'm too tired to wash, all I could do would be to lie there. Of course, if someone washed me, that would be OK!" She laughed. "That's a great idea. I'll run the water and then make sure that Jamie doesn't mind washing you!" She took the opportunity to glance quickly down again at his hips. The shock on her face was beyond concealment as she gauged the size of his cock. The shape of his leg was clear beneath the sheet, a swelling that fell with as the sheet hugged his inner thigh. But in the middle, between the two sharp bones of his hips bobbed his cock. Lauren had no idea quite how big he was, or whether he was fully erect, but a surge of adrenaline and lust coursed through her body, fluttering her heart as she realised he made no effort to conceal his erection. Regaining some composure, she stared directly into his eyes, starting a game. "Sorry, that's no fun!" he said. "Perhaps Emma and me, then. We'd have to make sure you're really clean. But I expect you'd be embarrassed, wouldn't you?" He looked at her intently, trying to judge how serious she was. He stuttered. "Emma's too young for such things, she's so innocent, right?" Lauren caught the movement of his cock under the sheet. She leaned further onto his legs, bringing her own up so that he couldn't quite see her knickers. "She needs to learn sometime, right?" she suggested. "Lauren, you're a naughty girl! I remember what you said you did with that girl in Switzerland." "Nikki" "Yeah. Washing and all the rest" "What rest?" Her hand found his thigh and rubbed gently, closing in. "Come here" he said softly. Lauren debated, intentionally giving the impression of her mental process. She slid to the floor, brushing his cock with her arm. Her lips met his, their kiss long, exploratory. She broke away, patting his cock as she stood. "Breakfast!" she said and turned, suprising herself that it had been easy to break away from what was most definitely the promise of the biggest cock in her life. She waved at Julie down the hallway as she emerged to greet the new day. Leaning on the sink in the kitchen, she realised that while she half felt like sex, something seemed to have happened to her during the past week. She created scenarios, judging them for their potency and desirability. A hug and kiss with Emma would be fine. She had a strong interest in doing anything with Julie, especially as she was such a dependable girl, cute and full of energy. Peter was fine, but she now thought that a relationship was impractical, probably even if they both lived in Switzerland. Jamie didn't even register as a possibility. Food and relaxation, house repair supervision and the children's schooling were therefore her top priorities. 'Yes', she thought, 'new priorities in my new life. Responsibility. Leadership.' The smell of cooking and coffee roused the household, and by ten everyone was fed, washed and ready for the day. Lauren spent much of the morning on the phone, leaving messages for Elizabeth and Gustav at every number she could find. One of Elizabeth's team mentioned that they all knew that the children were home and safe. Gustav was in Switzerland, but Elizabeth would now be cutting short her work in the north, and be home at the weekend, four days away. She would call that evening. "Damn nice of her!" said Lauren out loud as the line went dead. She showed Peter to her bathroom, their movements and distance perfectly choreographed, eliminating any chance of an accidental touch, their casual behaviour speaking volumes of what might transpire later. "Here. Soap, towel. What else?" she asked. "Got a spare toothbrush?" "Yep, here!" she said, opening the medicine cabinet on the wall. To her horror, two plastic gloves fell into the sink. She scooped them up, trying desperately of something to say. "Er, medicinal purposes. Emma" "No problem" he offered, his eyes wandering all over her for any sign of a clue to their real purpose. Lauren made her excuses and left, reminding him that she would be through in her bedroom, sorting out her washing. She listened during the ten minutes he needed, amused by the sound of his humming in the shower, the occasional shriek. She knew full well that the noises were half invitations to go and assist, but that didn't figure into her new plans. He emerged, dripping with a towel around his body and another round his head, his hair wet and matted. Lauren plugged in her hair drier and guided him to the edge of the bed. Kneeling behind him, she rubbed his thick hair, alternately combing and fluffing it to encourage it to dry. He seemed so strong, manly. It was wholesome to have him in her bedroom. She wondered if that's what the room needed to make it more like home, a man. The silk bedspread caressed her legs, recalling the feeling of how her bottom had felt when her ankles had been by her ears and Felix had introduced her to his toy. She settled slowly onto her heels, fully aware that the deeper she sank, the more her father's shirt rode up her thighs. Dropping her comb, she shifted slightly, using her left hand briefly to touch her pussy, loosening the tight knickers and allowing it to breath. She found there was something erotic, almost creative in running her hands innocently through his hair, combing it into some sort of order, touching him to her hearts content. He sighed occasionally, and when she thought his eyes might be closed, she knelt higher in order to glance round his shoulder and into his lap, the bulge still clearly defined beneath the wet towel. Although tempted, she flicked off the switch, announced that he could use the little lounge to change in if he wanted, and then left him alone while she again tried the phone. Pleased with herself and her new moral code, she made her way to the utility room. They had lunch in the town as planned, riding around like tourists as they showed the sights to Julie and Peter. Lauren allowed herself two beers at lunch, and felt more than relaxed as they pulled up back at the house. Her little entourage tumbled from the car and into the house, the cool of the air conditioning almost knocking them over as they slammed the door noisily. "Look" she said, loudly, to Julie and Peter "if this is your last night here you two we should have farewell party and celebrate! There's tons of food and drink here!" "Great idea. The we can take you to the station tomorrow morning, right Lori?" said Emma, herself a little merry from lunch. Lauren watched Julie as she shuffled closer to Jamie. It was clear that they would be saying good-bye most of the night and well into the early morning. Then it dawned on her that she had actually seen Julie leaving Jamie's room that morning. She grinned at the girl, mentally undressing her with the greatest of ease as she recalled the performance with Juan. Julie returned the smile, grasping Jamie's hand in hers. "Let's not wait for tonight, let's start now!" said Jamie, gaining a cheer of approval. Leading the way, he removed a bottle of white wine from the fridge, grabbed five glasses and walked onto the patio. He stripped, showing that he already had his swimming trunks on underneath his shorts, and slowly waded out from the shallow end of the pool, careful in case he stepped on rocks or any other object left by the builders. Lauren showed Peter to Gustav's wardrobe, searching with him to locate a pair of swimming trunks. It crossed her mind that he might try them on right there, in front of her, but modesty won the day, and he sneaked off into the bathroom to change. Re-emerging with more of a fatherly image, they sniggered together before parting so that Lauren could change. Chapter 57 Back on the patio, Julie was almost suitably clothed. The thought was there, but Emma's spare bikini was meant for a girl of thirteen, not seventeen. The small patches of cloth barely covered her nipples, and the bikini bottom cut wickedly into her thighs, molding itself to her athletic build. Lauren slumped down onto the lounger, leaning back as she sipped the ice cold wine. She watched Jamie plying back and forth, turning effortlessly, length after length. Julie watched him with great interest as she sat on the deck chair, an ankle resting on her knee, no doubt, thought Lauren, giving Jamie a wonderful view of the material as it must surely be trapped between the soft folds of her labia. Lauren closed her eyes, aware that Peter wanted to talk, to join the group. He knew little of what they had been forced to do in Maria's wayward house, but Lauren had briefly mentioned that everyone was involved at the same time, including Emma. She had glossed over the facts about her relationship with Maria and focused on the little show that they had been persuaded to perform for Maria's so- called Uncle. Peter had been fascinated, asking no questions, lapping up every detail as they trudged along on the second day of the walk. His interest shifted from a need for the sexual details to a search for the reason that they were still alive. Lauren gradually realised that Maria may have felt that to have Lauren and Emma alive and willing was of more service to her than involve them in one of her more violent productions. They had not discussed the event since that time, the subject taboo. She opened her eyes, just in time to see Emma standing by the poolside, wineglass in hand. Jamie was bobbing up and down in the water, encouraging her. She swigged back the half empty glass, set it down and flicked the clasp of her bikini top. It hit the floor at the same time she entered the water, diving gracefully beside her brother. The activity wasn't missed by Peter, who sat up casually, waiting for the little girl to re-emerge. She didn't disappoint, breaking the surface fast enough to allow her young breasts to burst forth into the sunlight in all their glory. Lauren became aware of Julie to her right, restless and clearly torn between staying with the older pair and joining those closer to her age. Youth won. She stood in her tight bikini and walked to the edge of the pool, acknowledging the whistles and laughter from the water. Lauren and Peter looked at each other, smiling before turning back to watch the girl. Her physique was perfect, both elegant and athletic, the broad shoulders of a swimmer, maybe, combined with the no-nonsense tautness of her limbs. Her buttocks were tight together, trapping the thin strap of her bikini in a way that revealed her pussy lips between her legs to perfection. She turned to Lauren. "Do you mind?" she asked, holding the front clasp of her bikini top. Her breasts bulged from almost every edge of the material. "No, we're very casual here, don't you worry." she replied, dismissing her concern with a wave of her hand, spilling her wine. Julie flicked her fingers, revealing to Lauren once again her breasts, the nipples flat, asleep. She dropped the hopelessly inadequate clothing on top of Emma's and sat down on the edge of the pool, dangling her feet in the water. Jamie swam across to her and gripped her legs, pulling relentlessly until she tumbled on top of him into the water, laughing in delight at the cool water and the sensation of their bodies together. Lauren shifted on the lounger, crossing her legs and squeezing her thighs, glancing to her left at Peter and smiling. "Hot, eh?" she said, her words not slurred but with a pronounced drawl. Peter nodded. His hands were in his lap as he laid back against the raised seat, trying to look the picture of calm while his cock attempted to burst out from underneath the trunks. Her eyes gleamed in the sunlight as she toured his body, from his strong shoulders and arms, down over his ancient trunks and along his hairy legs. Ample room in the trunks for her hand, she thought. She decided two things within seconds of each other. Firstly, she just had to lose her top, because the sun was making her itch. Secondly, she wasn't going to be distasteful and do it herself. That was a job for Peter, and she would let him do it as a way of thanking him. He turned, following her eyes, clearly embarrassed by the length of time she had stared at him. Lauren and Peter ventured into the water only briefly, enough to be able to say they joined in, to wash away the heat of the afternoon. But she didn't like the splashing and the constant diving of the others worried her, so rather than nervously clinging to the edge, she waded out, stood still and drip dried for a couple of minutes and then resumed her relaxed position on the lounger. Peter pulled himself out of the water less than five minutes later. "Want some more wine, this white's almost gone?" "Yeah, I'll show you where it is." said Lauren, springing to her feet. Blood pounded in her head, black blotches from the sudden jump up half obscuring her vision as she wandered towards the kitchen. He caught her arm, steadying her as she stepped onto the cool marble of the utility room floor. "Here!" she said, opening the fridge, "one more bottle of white, then there's tons of red in the spare room." She put the bottle on the kitchen table, and took his hand, pulling him to the spare room. Her knuckles brushed against his rigid cock, her brain noting the hardness and, to her delayed surprise, the utter desire that registered. Their fingers interlocked, cool and damp, exploring, squeezing as their feet flapped along the cold hallway. She guided him into the room, flicking the door closed with her foot as he tugged along. They spun round, unspoken words exchanged, consent signaled as they edged closer. Her bikini was damp, the material clinging tightly to her body. Lauren pulled him towards her, his cock now raging against her stomach. To her amazement, the length of his erection and his physical height caused the top of his cock to nestle against the firm, graceful curve of her breast. She gripped his buttocks, pulling him close as she looked up dreamily into his eyes. Her lips parted as he leaned down, craning his neck to kiss her forehead. She could feel tiny drips from her bikini running down her leg, warm, caressing. She exhaled, delighted at his touch, the coolness of his hands, the safety of his strength. Swaying slightly, she kissed him back, slipping her tongue along his lip, encouraging him as his hands gripped her back, squeezing her breasts against his hairy chest. Her bikini top reminded her of the desire building inside her and so when his hands rubbed lightly against the side of her breasts she sighed, kissing him hard in encouragement. But rather than ripping her clothes off, she felt his grip increase, squeezing her sides, lifting her slightly so that she stood on tiptoes. Her hands moved over his back, circling, rising until she held his shoulders, maintaining her embrace with a sigh and a thundering heart. "Eyes closed?" She laughed, recalling their flight. "Story time?" "Mmm. Tell me what you feel." She thought, hot and panting as she lay her head on his shoulder and gently swayed back and forth to imaginary music. "I feel our bodies, close, touching all the way down. I feel your feet against mine. I feel your legs. I know your heart is beating very quickly. Your mouth is warm and tastes of white wine. I can smell chlorine, lunch." "What else?" "I feel the cool air in the room, the warmth of my legs. I know there's suntan stuff under my arms and over my stomach. My muscles still ache. I'm a little drunk, not hungry. And you feel so clean. Your skin feels tight, cold, my fingers sort of squeak over it when I touch you." "What's poking against your stomach?" "Your cock" she replied without hesitation. "Why?" "Because it's stiff" "Why?" "Perhaps it's happy!" "Because you're here, because you're so gorgeous. Because when you take your top off, I think you'll look like an angel." He kissed her again. Lauren laughed at his romantic notions, trying to minimize the secret delight of his words. "I'm not going to take it off." He looked at her. "Why?" "Because that's your job." She turned, breaking their embrace. Undecided whether to stay in the spare room or venture to her own bedroom, she grabbed the wine and split the difference, stumbling into the bed. Again, he steadied her, leading her towards the lounge. They flopped onto the white sofa, kneeling while they leaned over the back to check that the others were safe and minding their own business. Julie was sitting on the edge, dangling her legs in the water while leaning back on her elbows with her head tilted right back. She stared at the sky while Jamie buried his head between her legs, licking her while Emma watched. Lauren turned to Peter, soliciting comment. He looked embarrassed, smiling nervously as he shifted, obviously rubbing his cock through his trunks on the back of the sofa. Lauren leaned forward, feeling the warmth of his breath as she approached, then the wet tingle as they kissed. She slid her arm along the back of the sofa, scooping him up while her other hand pulled him closer. "Some red wine, I think. To celebrate our freedom." "OK, but not too much, we don't want to fall asleep, right?" Lauren up-ended her wine glass, draining the remainder of the white wine. He poured carefully, the deep red liquid clinging to the side of the glass, the heady bouquet filling the room. "Cheers!" he said. They turned away from the activity on the patio and slipped down together. His eyes followed the wine glass, sneaking a look at her magnificent cleavage as she drank. Lauren looked so tanned, firm, young and most definitely in need of some serious loving. She rested her half-empty glass on the carpet and sank into the sofa, smiling while she shuffled around, turning her back on him while her head slipped over his chest, coming to rest in his lap. There was no mistaking his cock, arrogant, hard and ridiculously long, starting below her right ear, and giving every impression of continuing way above as her head pushed it hard against his stomach. Peter's hands rubbed her shoulders, massaging again the tired aches out of her system. Fingers probed deeper, gliding occasionally over the top of her breasts, delving the tiniest of distances under the tight material of her top. She glanced down, pleased to see her nipples erect, standing to attention, aching slightly as though deprived of sustenance. She pushed back, digging her head deeper into his lap, rolling his cock back and forth beneath the trunks. She brought her knees up, really wanting to open her legs, to leave one on the sofa cushion and the other on the back of the seat, but modesty dictated that she should wait until invited. The wine was having an effect on her now, her eyelids heavy, her movements dreamy as warmth from their bodies mixed to provide sanctuary. Relaxed, comfortable, so cozy with him as lazy fingers wandered over her shoulders, stroked the side of her face, teased jokingly as he placed a finger against her lips and quickly moved before she could bite it. Games she had played with her mother. He traced the outline of her bikini top, implying his desire to venture down to her hard nipples, to reveal the true perfection of her form. She pushed against his fingers, pleased as a finger tip brushed over the tautness, flicked and caressed before escaping for fear of offending. "You look gorgeous down there" he whispered. "such long legs, all the way down the sofa" She pushed into his lap, her left hand dropping to her side, finding his leg and stroking gently. "I can see you breathing, rising and falling. I think I can hear your heart beating too!" Lauren smiled, giggling as she ran her fingers through the hair on his legs. She turned her head very slightly to the right, bringing more of his cock into contact with her cheek. The warmth and hardness permeated his trunks, beckoning her, tempting her to take him in her mouth while he bulged a matter of inches from her face. The stiff outline of his manhood played tents, the top of his thick cock straining to reach daylight. He breathed deeply, in thanks for the added attention, stroking her hair before slowly, with the utmost care and strength, lifting her shoulders so that he could kiss her tenderly on the lips. Lauren melted, closing her eyes in total surrender to his lips, bending her knees and parting her legs slightly as she reached back and grabbed his neck. He twisted around so that their kiss was more conventional, pulling her up against his leg so that he still had to lean down but could hold her side and pull her close. To her relief she felt his hands roaming over her breasts, his thumb dipping under the thin elastic as he peeled the material away from her proud beauty. The bra straps slipped down her arms as the cups drifted to her waist, revealing her breasts and signaling to Lauren that he had taken the plunge and the trembling demands within her pussy would be satisfied at last. "You're perfect!" he said, shaking his head slightly. Embarrassed, she leaned and pulled his lips to her own, stifling any further examination and hopefully encouraging him to the next goal. Leaning across his legs, she slipped her hand inside the leg of his trunks, feeling her way to the thin webbing that served as a lining. He gripped her harder, rewarding her ambition and opening his legs slightly to allow greater movement. Pushing further, she felt the soft, squishy skin of his balls, hanging warm and loose between his legs. Slightly further was the rock hard beginning of his cool cock, bursting forth between his balls, immovable, rampant, seemingly endless. Unable to contain her curiosity, she clumsily traced it's length, speechless as the trunks prevented her from finding anything that felt like the great red knob she expected. "Oh yes, that's lovely." he said, rubbing her nipples gently with the palm of his hand before skimming down to her bikini bottom. "I can see your pussy lips beneath your bikini" Amazed and aroused by the running commentary, she nodded, looking down as she parted her legs a little more. Her hand found her pussy, the middle finger extended as she brought temporary relief. "I want you. I need you really deep inside me." She panted hard now, caught up in the language. "Make me come, do anything!" He slid down the sofa and picked her up in his arms in one fluid motion. Kneeling down on one knee, he grabbed the bottle of wine while she picked up their glasses. He stood again, pausing so they could watch the children once more from the gloom of the lounge. Jamie now laid on the lounger and Julie, naked and with her back to them, sucked his cock. Her legs were slightly parted and the erotic outline of her pussy and the bright spot of her anus between her legs affected them both. Emma appeared to be naked as well but content to sit in a chair on her own, watching. Lauren giggled again. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /