Message-ID: <26832asstr$971363404@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: Azil X-Original-Message-ID: <8s3kuf$of2$1@nnrp1.deja.com> X-Article-Creation-Date: Thu Oct 12 06:15:46 2000 GMT Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} My Reward, Ch55 (MC,MF,Mf11) Date: Thu, 12 Oct 2000 11:10:04 -0400 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: IceAltar, RuiJorge My Reward By Azil Copyright 1998-2000 Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction. No character is meant to resemble any specific person, living or dead. Sexual actions of various types will be depicted in this story. This does not mean that the author approves of these actions, has ever performed any of them, or would perform them if given the opportunity. (Nor does it mean that he doesn't, hasn't, and/or wouldn't). This is inappropriate reading material for minors. In many jurisdictions it may be illegal for minors to read it, or for adults to make it available for minors to read. The author urges you not to disobey these laws. Even if it isn't illegal where you are, keep it away from kids anyway. CHAPTER 55: CALLED INTO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE The next couple weeks were comparatively quiet, so perhaps this is an opportunity to bring you up to date on developments on other fronts. I had ceased actively tormenting Sarah. Terrible as it had been for her to try to blackmail Ashley, I decided finally that she had been sufficiently punished. But not before putting her through hell. After her interlude with Rodney, the school nerd, I made sure that he talked about it all over the school, and had the principal announce it on the school PA system, right after the notice about the Chess Club meeting, and just before news about the car wash to raise money for the band's trip to San Francisco. At the next break, I had them walk hand-in-hand through the halls. It was a beautifully mortifying experience for Sarah. For a while, I had made her totally without sexual feeling, but driven to have sex - thus fucking endlessly but feeling nothing out of it. I had turned that around one day and caused her to have orgasms every five minutes throughout the day. I had caused her to be endlessly on the edge of orgasm, but unable to achieve it - when she would reach into her pussy to stroke herself, her fingers disappeared. I also tortured her in small, nonsexual ways. One day when her car was being repaired, I made the laughing suggestion that she ride a bike. Her look of horror at this led me of course to send her to school on a 1957 Schwinn, complete with basket on the front, a bell, a broken headlight, a slightly bent rear wheel, and a loose seat. Unfortunately, the kids at her school decided it was deliciously retro, and all I accomplished was a run on bikes at thrift stores all over the Valley. Another of my great ideas that backfired. Ultimately, of course, I was forced to recognize that, as my daughter, much of Sarah's nastiness was my own fault, and I dropped all the punishments. I left her with only two after-effects of the experience: I put a control on her that she couldn't hurt Ashley, and I let her remember, not the details of her humiliation, but the fact that I had brought her down - so that she wouldn't do the same thing again. Chris seemed to be enjoying her visits to her shrink. I met Dr. Kristin Martin only once and was a bit uncomfortable with her. Based on the waiting room literature, she appeared to be a bit more of an aggressive feminist than I'm comfortable with, and her attitude to me was decidedly cool. But she was Chris's doctor, not mine, and I was prepared to wait to see the results before making a judgment. Thus far there had been no noticeable results, but I had not expected any so quickly. I dropped the plans to have Thomas fuck every fourteen year old girl in Phoenix, although I had fun with the mental image of a mile-long line outside our house, with Chris and Sarah yelling "Take a number!" at everybody. I had screwed up the kid enough for now, and decided to just leave him alone for a while - although I also amused myself with the concept of bringing in Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera to have a little threesome with him. Now that Tom O'Malley and Ashley were allowed to be openly an item, they were having a great time dating - Tom got a real kick out of going to high school dances and parties (despite the music), and Ashley loved the envious looks she captured on her classmates' faces. I'll fill you in a bit more on this later. Things were quiet in the Mallory Empire, where my benevolent dictatorship had now spread over dozens of islands, and my benevolent dick (sorry, I couldn't resist) had spawned a population explosion that necessitated dozens of islands to contain it (okay, a bit of an exaggeration, but there were LOTS of kids). My other lives in other times were progressing equally well. Beth was having a blast with her church, which gave her all sorts of new ideas for weirdness. One unexpected result was that FuckMart opened a Religious Supplies department. It featured such items as rosaries consisting of beads intended to be inserted in the anus and connected to a dildo in the place of a crucifix, nun's habits with the back cut away for easy rear entry, and books such as "Lives of the Sluts" and the "Ballsomemore Catechism". My Church of the Sacred Penis was doing well, too, with my flock worshipping regularly at the priapic altar. Sharon was enjoying her status as senior wife, while Wendy glowed with the joy of pregnancy (and managed to step up her wanton behavior to new levels, something I would have considered impossible). Val and Cassie were having a great time being newlyweds, cuddling together on the couch every night - Cassie was getting cuter as she got rounder. The only negative in my life at this point was Elizabeth. Little Bit was mad, and she wasn't one to make a secret of her feelings. I had figured she'd get over her anger, and I made a few approaches to her, trying to appease her with pussy licks and sixty-nining. But she was not to be so easily bought off, and Sharon didn't let up on me either. I have no doubt that eventually, as Beth predicted, I would have given in, but the matter was brought to a head a few days before Thanksgiving. The occasion was the mandatory fall parent-teacher conferences. The previous week we had gotten a note informing us we were scheduled for our meeting on Monday evening. Expecting little beyond, "Elizabeth is a fine girl and we're so pleased with her progress other than a little trouble with math do you have any questions thank you for coming," I came home from work early and Sharon and I headed for the school. (In case you were wondering, after Sharon's former husband had seen that he wasn't going to starve her into submission, he had started harassing her in other ways. I finally tired of him and had Reward put his company into bankruptcy and find him a new job in Minnesota, from whence he is seldom heard any more). The meeting started pretty much as expected. Sister Jean, a middle-aged nun who wore mostly conservative civvies other than a short scarf-like veil, went over Elizabeth's report card with us. We discussed her math problems, and then we listened to what a charming, young lady she was. And then, instead of "Thank you for coming tonight," the sentence after "charming young girl" began with, "There's just one other thing I need to discuss with you." Sister Jean frowned a bit in thought as she paused, then smiled to put us at ease. "I'm always reluctant, of course," she began hesitantly, "to discuss matters involving a student's home life, but there are times when it's necessary, so I'll just get right into it - it will be easier if we're direct about this." She smiled again in a way that told me that I wasn't expected to like what I was about to hear. I glanced inquiringly at Sharon, who looked worried. "As I'm sure you are aware," she went on, "the children talk among themselves about things that happen at home, and sometimes we overhear things we're not supposed to." She smiled deprecatingly. "Most of these things are trivial, but sometimes we hear something that concerns us, and we feel obligated to ask a few questions." Sharon's voice trembled a bit as she asked, "You've heard something disturbing about our home?" "What I heard," the nun answered, turning to speak to me, "and what concerns me so much, is that Elizabeth says that you have flatly refused to take her virginity. Is that true, Mr. Mallory?" I must report that the nun did not say this in an accusatory manner. Her face radiated Christian concern about my failings. I didn't quite know how to answer, but Sharon didn't hesitate. "I'm afraid it is true, Sister." Sister Jean looked very sad about having had her fears confirmed. "Mister Mallory," she said softly, "I know you don't want to hurt Elizabeth, but she's at a very difficult time in her life. It's always so difficult when there's a divorce and remarriage," she sighed, "and when the girl's father, as I understand it, is almost entirely out of her life." She looked for confirmation to Sharon, who nodded. "You're the father-figure in her life," she said, succeeding at making me feel very guilty for my failure to adequately fill that role, "and as such she looks to you for affirmation of her growth into puberty and of her sexual desirability. At present she's not receiving it, and it leaves her with very conflicted feelings - both about you and about herself." Now, having made me feel like a total worm, Sister Jean switched gears. "You are Penisites, aren't you?" she asked. Sharon and I both nodded. "I just asked because I wanted to be sure there was no religious reason - some religions disapprove of sex with children," she noted, "but that isn't the case with Penisism, I don't believe. It's rather encouraged, isn't it?" Sharon nodded, looking over at me rather smugly. "Elizabeth has told us about some of the home orgies you've had recently," she smiled. "They sound like fun. But again," she went on, "she tells us that you fuck everybody but her - you can imagine how that makes her feel." Sharon shot another nasty look at me, as I sunk into my chair. "How many wives do you have, Mr. Mallory?" the nun asked. "Four," I lied. "And two of them are pregnant," the nun noted, "Cassie and one of your other wives." She smiled. "Big families are so nice, and we see so few of them these days. I really commend you," she added, apparently feeling she had pounded me enough and now wanted to back off a bit. "It just seems to make it even more difficult that you're married to Cassie - you know what sibling rivalries are like. And especially since Cassie is pregnant - such a lovely little belly on that girl, she's due in April, isn't she?" she added as an aside. "As it gets closer you'll have to discuss with her teachers how you'll keep her up to date on her school work." She didn't follow up the marriage angle any further, but her drift was clear. She folded her hands on the desk, adopting a pose that told me she was getting down to the real core of the thing. "Now, legally of course we're required to report all cases of suspected child abuse. I'm not really certain about whether a father refusing to fuck his daughter falls into that category, but where it appears to be causing the child such distress, it may be necessary to notify the Department of Family Services if it were to continue." She paused, the threat left hanging in the air. Sharon assured her that the situation would be dealt with promptly. Sister smiled and thanked us, the tough job completed. "Do you think you'll be getting her pregnant soon? I know she'd love that - nobody else in her class is pregnant, and of course there's the sibling rivalry issue, as we discussed." She smiled understandingly as Sharon said that Little Bit's periods hadn't begun yet. "Well, of course, we have to wait for things on God's schedule then, but I'd recommend a pregnancy as soon as possible." I'll give Sharon credit; she managed to wait all the way to the car before jumping me. But after that the I-told-you-so's and the none-of-this-would-have-happened-if-you'd-listened-to-me's and the see-what-a-mess-you've-made's continued all the way home. I didn't even bother to say that I'd marry Little Bit ASAP - it was a given. Since I was busy saying, "Yes, dear" to Sharon, I waited until we were home to put a pause on things and ask Reward what the hell had happened. I could, of course, have stopped the nun at any point, but the thing was so surreal that I was initially stunned, and then amused, and finally anxious to see how it came out. But now I wanted an explanation - how could a nun threaten to report me for not being a child molester? He began, rather defensively, by pointing out that I made things rather difficult on him by wanting the world to go on in an ordinary way, while my family and I behaved in rather extraordinary ways. The way Reward bridged the gap, it seemed, was to make minimal changes in the thinking of those people who came in contact with my family members. Thus, when Little Bit told her friends at school about a weekend orgy, it would register on any listeners as no more remarkable than having a clown at a kid's birthday party. When Cassie announced her pregnancy, it seemed an ordinary rite of passage, equivalent to a girl's first period. And when Little Bit whined that her stepfather was cruel because he wouldn't fuck her, it struck the nun as an issue that needed resolution at the earliest opportunity. Reward assured me that the nun was otherwise unaffected - that she would for example react in horror, and immediately be on the phone to DFS, if any other student mentioned "inappropriate touching", or whatever the term is, by a relative. I wondered briefly about the ripple effects of this. I can see for example the mother of another student talking with the nun as Cassie walked by, and mentioning that "Cassie Prince is certainly putting on weight," to which the nun would reply, "Oh no, she's pregnant; and her name is Mallory now - she's married to her stepfather." And then the mother asks her hairstylist, "What's a good baby shower present for a fourteen-year-old? One of my daughter's classmates is pregnant." To which the beautician responds, "Isn't that nice? I think girls are so cute when they get knocked up at that age. Buy her diapers - you can never have too many." The possibilities were endless. But I shook off the thoughts - as long as Reward was handling it, I figured, it wasn't something I needed to worry about. The more immediate concern was Little Bit. I had told myself I wasn't going to have sex with her, but I'd been steadily weakening. Beth had bet I'd marry her by Thanksgiving, and it looked like she was right. I could keep stalling, but I knew as well as Beth did that I was going to give in to temptation sooner or later. And in that case it might as well be sooner. So when I finished talking with Reward and unfroze everybody, Sharon made me go into the family room, where Little Bit was watching TV. I did the job right, getting down on my knees in front of the couch where she was sitting (which still left me at eye-level), taking her hand in mine, and asking if she would consent to be my bride. Elizabeth's reaction was to shout with glee, give me a big kiss, fall back on the couch, pull down her shorts, spread her legs, and holler, "Come on, fuck me!" Sharon felt that this was an inappropriate response to a marriage proposal and told Little Bit that it was time to go to bed - alone - and that they'd plan the wedding the next morning. Sharon decided on a Thanksgiving wedding (we never wasted time in our household, and with Reward to do all the work, why should we?). She called the school and told them that Elizabeth would be out for a couple days getting ready for her wedding - which was fine with the school, of course. Having been through three weddings (or a wedding and a double wedding) in the past few weeks, I decided to put in a couple variations. The family orgy having been done, I thought we'd be more traditional and have an actual honeymoon. So I had Reward put the idea into Sharon's and Elizabeth's heads, and when they came home from shopping Tuesday evening, they informed me that after the ceremony we would have a combo wedding banquet / Thanksgiving dinner, and then Little Bit and I would go to Disneyland for our honeymoon. There may be more romantic spots, but not if you're eleven, I guess. So Thursday morning dawned to the confusion of last minute preparations. Since Sharon wanted me out of the way, I stayed in bed late getting a couple pre-nuptial blowjobs from the bride's sister. So I was well primed when Sharon came upstairs to tell us that everything was on schedule. She was upset with Cassie for not being ready, and sent her off to get dressed. Feeling deprived, I pointed out that chasing off Cassie had left me with a hard-on and nowhere to put it. Sharon laughed that I should save it for the bride, and urged me to get dressed, meanwhile doing as she preached, peeling off her shorts and blouse preparatory to putting on her new dress. I came up behind her as the blouse dropped to the floor, reaching around to cup her full, heavy breasts. "I can put a little something in the mother of the bride and still have plenty left for Elizabeth," I said. "Tom, we don't have time," she said, but made no move to stop me. I squeezed her breasts and she leaned back against me. We cuddled like that for a moment; I held her tight, caressing her breasts and kissing her neck. "I'm not as young as all the rest of them," she said out of the blue. I didn't know how to answer. "But you fuck as well as ever," I said, truthfully if unromantically. She laughed and turned around. "So do me fast," she said, "we're running late." We did it fast. I had her bend over and grab the footboard of the bed (now large enough for six), and slid my cock up into her pussy. I went slowly for the first few strokes, before getting into a good rhythm. Then I grabbed her ass and began stroking into her hard. We were interrupted once when Wendy came in, looking for her shoes - which upset our rhythm for a second. Wendy asked if we needed any help, but Sharon assured her we were doing fine. We got back to a good, steady beat as Wendy left and a few moments later I shot into her. Then we got dressed. As we were going down the stairs, I in my tux, as Sharon and Little Bit had insisted, Sharon in a beautiful light blue designer something, she stopped me briefly to speak softly: "You take good care of our little girl," she told me, looking like she was on the verge of tears. When I was in the living room, Elizabeth followed down the stairs. She was in a perfect replica, size zero I suppose, of the wedding dress Audrey Hepburn wore in "Funny Face". I can't describe such things - it was white and it had a veil - but it was beautiful, and she was as cute and as desirable as anything I've ever seen in my life. The wedding went pretty much according to form - or at least according to Church of the Sacred Penis form. It opened with "Oh Promise Me", which had a few small variations ("Oh promise me, that you'll take my hand," became . . . well, you can guess). Then we made our mutual pledges to each other, in CSP tradition: "I pledge to worship and serve this sacred penis in every way, to love it and please it, and to welcome it into every part of my body, so help me god," swore Little Bit. To which I replied, placing my hand on her head as she knelt before me, "I consecrate you and accept you as my wife and as a worthy receptacle for my penis. I pledge to fuck you frequently and to fill your belly with children. You may now suck the sacred penis." Sharon, Little Bit, and I had agreed that the Blessed Trifecta could be performed on the honeymoon, but we felt that at least a blowjob was essential to a Penisite wedding, and Little Bit did the job right, opening my pants and sucking the head of my cock into her lovely little mouth. Sharon had let her wear make-up for the first time on the occasion of her wedding, and the lovely, deep-red lips stretched around my cock were a gloriously erotic sight. Elizabeth had apparently been getting instructions from my other wives for the past few days, because her cocksucking had improved dramatically. (I later learned that this was the case - all the others had been giving her lessons on cocksucking and everything else). Genetics probably had something to do with it as well - her mother gave great mouth. Anyway, Little Bit sucked in more and more of my cock, pulling her jaw farther and farther open until she had most of it in, and the tip of my cock nestled against her tonsils (or something down in there). Then she smiled up at me in triumph, and began slowly moving her head back and forth, allowing a little of my cock to escape, but then eagerly reclaiming it. As the pressure of her lips and the warmth of her mouth had its effect on me, her tongue began to add to the mix, swirling slowly around the length of my cock, caressing it lovingly. Somehow, and I don't think this can be taught - I think it takes experience or, in Little Bit's case, the instincts of a born courtesan - she knew when I was about to come. She slowly released my cock and looked up at me with a teasing look. Then she licked the head of the cock, looked up at me again, and said, "Fuck my face." Then the cock was back in her mouth, and she looked up invitingly. I grabbed her head just behind each ear and pulled her to me as my hips pushed my cock into her mouth. Then I eased off from her and again pulled her forward as I stroked between those bright red lips. I looked down at her beautiful young face, the pretty blue eyes looking up at me, daring me, urging me to fuck her harder. The blowjob was great, the view was even better, and I stroked into my little bride's face just a few more times before going rigid, pulling her head forward suddenly, and shooting my load deep down her throat. I came in two or three long, hot spurts, then relaxed and let Elizabeth loose as I stumbled to a chair. As I sat back, Little Bit climbed up on my lap and cuddled against me. "Pretty good, huh?" she asked softly. When I could walk again, we all headed into the dining room and had a delicious Thanksgiving dinner. I reflected as I struggled with carving the turkey (something I've never been able to do well, but I figure that as long as I get the meat off the bone, nobody cares what it looks like) that here was another of those little benefits of Reward that one often forgets. The typical Thanksgiving dinner has so many courses that there's no possibility that they'll all get to the table at the right time. Either the turkey takes too long and the potatoes get cold and the rolls burn, or the turkey gets done early and everybody's scrambling to get all the side-dishes ready. Not a problem with Reward - everything was right on schedule. The meal was great, accompanied by much banter and teasing, most of it directed toward Elizabeth. Cassie, typical of big sisters, was happy to lead the torment, telling her little sister that, "With your little hole, in a few hours, you're going to feel as stuffed as the turkey." But Little Bit held her own, telling Cassie that, "You're the one who looks stuffed these days." Seeing things degenerating into a sisterly catfight, Sharon shushed the girls, so everybody turned on me. Val said they'd never see us again, "Because once you get into Elizabeth's pussy, you probably won't be able to get out." When the meal was complete, Elizabeth and I changed our clothes and then said goodbye at the door, to more good wishes and jokes. Sharon, as a typical mother, got all teary in kissing her baby goodbye, and had to offer some whispered last-minute advice. Then she turned to me. "You've got three nights over there in California," she said, "and I expect her to come back well-fucked." We flew into John Wayne Airport on Reward Airlines, and Elizabeth had the opportunity to give me another blowjob on the plane. She wanted to climb on my lap and fuck, but I persuaded her to wait for a bed at the hotel. I was beginning to realize that this was one of the hottest little babes I'd ever met up with. I hadn't made any travel plans, but that was something I'd learned I could dispense with. Reward conjured up a limo waiting for us at baggage claim (we got a lot of strange looks when we walked up to the carousel and our bags immediately popped out, while people on earlier flights were still waiting). At the hotel, I asked the desk clerk for a room, the four foot seven Elizabeth at my side. "Of course," he replied. "I imagine you and your daughter will want a twin double?" "Well, she is my daughter," I replied with a smile, "but she's also my wife. We'd like the Honeymoon Suite." "Of course," he smiled. "Our congratulations and best wishes." We thanked him, and as I filled out the registration card, he went on. "Now, normally we provide complimentary champagne with the Honeymoon Suite, but I'm afraid Mrs. Mallory is underage . . . ." he said apologetically. I assured him that we wouldn't want Disney Corporation to break the state liquor laws. "We're probably going to be too busy fucking all night to waste time drinking anyway," I reassured him laughingly, "but perhaps you could send a meal up in a couple hours." "Pepperoni pizza," Little Bit chimed in. The desk clerk said he would take care of it, rang for the bellhop, and a few minutes later my wife and I were alone in our room. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+