Message-ID: <22047asstr$946498202@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail X-Original-Message-ID: <38691E2E.7A25@hotmail.com> From: M Quayle Reply-To: quayle_m@hotmail.com MIME-Version: 1.0 Subject: {ASSM} A "Farrell" Story (Late For Dinner) Chapter 83: Join the Club (S&M Family Fun, Resolutions) Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Lines: 112 NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 29 Dec 1999 12:30:45 EST Date: Wed, 29 Dec 1999 15:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: Vulpine, Lambchop, dennyw Happy 2000!! Your comments, criticisms, and evil/sexy/comical plot ideas are always welcome. Many of Kathy's adventures are loosely based on reader suggestions. Join the free "Late For Dinner" mailing list: http://www.onelist.com/subscribe.cgi/LateForDinner New chapters are also posted regularly to alt.torture & alt.sex.stories. Earlier chapters are on-line in the mailing list archive and at J. Wijnands's site at http://www.xs4all.nl/~wijnands/bdsm/late/ >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> WARNING! This story is for adults only and contains Strong Sexual Content and Convoluted Attempts at Humor. It is intended as a work of satirical sexual fiction for ADULTS only, and the author does not in any way condone or encourage similar behavior even if it was legal or physically possible. If you are under the age of 18 or reside in a state (or alt.state) that prohibits such behavior, stop reading this right now. I mean it!!!!!! Remember: DON'T DO THIS STUFF!!!!! <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< Do not repost or post without permission of author. Chapter 83: Join the Club Michael's grip on Kathy's neck was so tight she couldn't make a sound. She kicked at the bed in hopes it would rouse Christi from her revere, but her beloved's azure eyes were as vacant as marbles. What to do? Michael had her pinned. She clamped down on his organ, but, despite her years of sex-ed training, it didn't do any good. And the voices were pleading with her now, begging her to surrender and go. She was moving toward a brilliant white light when the door burst open. "Ho, ho, sorry to interrupt." It was Officer Ray! "Hey, Mike, the guy at the desk wants to know if you want the room for another hour." Michael silently continued his automaton-like hunching, his hands locked tightly around Kathy's throat. "Say there, Mike," Ray teased, "you aren't having a relapse, are you? Michael?" He tapped his shoulder. "Hey, Mike?" The richest man in town didn't respond to the public servant's polite inquiry. Kathy focused all her energy and pushed the last of her air out of her lungs to make a tiny, desperate "eeeep." "Oh, good golly!" Ray flipped on the light, grasped the situation and sprang into action. He grabbed the stun gun from Christi's lap and fired -- zap! -- hitting Michael right between the testicles. Something heavy hit the floor with a wet thud as sweet air flooded Kathy's lungs. The voices and the white light disappeared. She was back in the room. Michael was on the floor next to the bed. He was totally ignoring her, holding himself in a most self-absorbed way. She found his groaning totally unromantic. Officer Ray freed Christi from her restraints and removed the red hot penis gag and double dildo. The torture mouse let out a little "whee" and crumpled like a rag doll into the chair. When she regained her composure she spied Michael sprawled next to the bed and a look of disappointment swept across her pretty-but-sweaty face. "Does this mean he won't be skewering my breasts tonight?" "I'm afraid not, Christi mouse." Ray comforted, "but if you come down to the County Home, I'm sure the boys masturbation team can use you for target practice." "I'm game!" The merry masochist squeaked. "I'm sure they'll love using these," she tore open her blouse to bare her ample breasts, "to keep score. They will shove the pins in really deep, won't they?" "I'll make sure of it," Ray promised. The good officer released Kathy from the handcuffs, and promptly clicked them on Michael's wrists instead. "How 'bout you, little Kathy? Wanna play catch the cumshot?" "Not tonight, thanks," Kathy croaked, "I just want to go home." She stood up wobbly and, well, accidentally ground her high heel into Michael's scrotum. "Sorry," she apologized most unconvincingly as she stepped over him. Sobbing, she fell into Christi's arms. "It's okay," Christi wrapped her in the big puffy sleeves of her tattered convent girl costume. "No harm done. We'll go play with the jack-off boys and forget all about mean ol' Michael." "No, you go on. I just want to go to bed and sulk. I've had enough MEN," she hissed as Ray marched her rejected lover from the room, "at least for one evening." "Hey, I thought I was the almost-lesbian in this relationship." "I may join the club," Kathy fumed. On the way from the motel, the girls snuggled in the trunk of Ray's patrol car. "You know, Kathy, if Michael doesn't marry us..." "We're NOT marrying him, Chris." "Well, then someone else is going to buy us after we graduate," a tear formed in Christi's voice, "and, and what if, what if the auctioneer won't sell us as a pair?" "Don't worry," Kathy calmed, "we're double or nothing. Don't ever forget it. I wouldn't know what to do without my torture mouse. And you know what else?" "What?" "From now on, I'm not trusting my neck to anyone but you." -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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