Message-ID: <28981asstr$982807803@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: "George Carter" X-Original-Message-ID: X-OriginalArrivalTime: 20 Feb 2001 11:43:59.0155 (UTC) FILETIME=[69C4D030:01C09B32] Subject: {ASSM} Midsummer's Nightmare Part 2/3 (George Carter) Date: Wed, 21 Feb 2001 21:10:03 -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: RuiJorge, gill-bates _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com. <1st attachment, "nghtmre2.txt" begin> A MIDSUMMER'S NIGHTMARE - PART 2 Copyright 2001 by George Carter The despair that was running through my veins like poisoned blood lasted only as long as it took for me to realise that Laura wasn't going to hit me again. It was quickly replaced by shame and self- loathing. Where the hell were my balls, I asked myself, lying here waiting to be beaten? Then I thought about what I'd said... and I actually started to giggle. Enough. I had to get to my feet. I had to act, rather than just think, for that way lay madness. I rose, and blinked the tears out of my eyes. There was Laura, now a big strong man, with his hands up over his mouth in a very feminine expression of shock. His erection was gone, but the damn thing was still a monster, even on the slack. I was envious. 'George, I'm so sorry! I... I wanted to... and then it was like you'd rejected me, and I just kind of... oh God, it's just so... hard. Look how I've hurt you. Your poor face... I'm a ...' I rushed to him, and took one of his hands between mine. 'It's not your fault. You weren't in your right mind.' I kissed his hand to try to show that I forgave him, and left a bloody smear on his fingers. 'It really isn't your fault', I repeated. 'Think about it... you've been a woman all your life, and now, suddenly, you're flooded with male hormones. Umm... lots of male hormones, judging from your... build. And no years of learning to deal with it, like I had. No wonder you lost control. But you got your control back... thank God for that. Are you all right now?' 'Am... am *I* all right? Ohh, George... how can you be so... so...' We were interrupted by the sound of Moire's voice from beside us. 'I trust that you both understand the point of the lesson.' And with that, and another of her little ballet routines, we got our own bodies back. I raised my hand to my mouth. It was intact. I felt a chemical wave of strength and confidence suffusing me, and that made me brave enough to face Moire again. 'Is there any way I can persuade you to leave Laura alone? I know that I'm the one you want to torment. Well, you can. I can't stop you. If you send her back... I'll... cooperate with you. Please.' 'Why do you persist with this?' Moire's expression darkened. What is she to you, to make you risk your all?' 'I... I care about her. I don't want to see her suffer. I...' A warm hand touched my own. Another hand gripped my shoulder and turned me around. Laura embraced me, and pressed her soft, warm breasts against my chest. Her eyes threatened to brim over with tears. Her lips were parted. 'What are you doing?' I asked. 'Saving your life. Both our lives.' Then she kissed me. Her tongue slipped between my lips. It was a promise. She drew her face away and spoke again. 'You're a good, decent man, and I love you for trying, but... stop trying. Let's give her what she wants.' She kissed me again, harder, deeper, and things started happening in my body. Familiar, masculine things. Things that made me want to rejoice that I had my old body back and that it still worked. Things that made me want to celebrate this woman who was wiser than I. Of course she was right. We were in a hopeless position, being unable to resist the little voyeur-pixie, and having nothing to bargain with, and it was only my pig-headed refusal to compromise on principle that had kept me fighting for this long. It was time to surrender. To each other. Slowly we sank to the floor of this odd place. Its texture was fine and soft, like the finest lawn... like lying on a putting green. It had enough give in it to make us comfortable when we lay upon it. Laura had initiated this, but she lay back, passively inviting me to sample her buffet of feminine charms, her eyes closed and a half-smile on her lips. Propped up on one elbow beside her, I ran a hand through the luxurious thickness of her chestnut hair while I placed a tender kiss on each of her eyelids. My fingertips brushed her face, running down the contours like a blind man's would. One finger traced down over her full, crimson lips - she'd never need lipstick - and as it parted them, she moved her head forward a fraction and trapped my finger between her teeth. Her tongue touched my finger for a second before she released me. Another promise. My freed finger splayed her lips apart as I moved my face to hers and kissed her again, slowly exploring her mouth with my tongue. Sliding over her own tongue, playing and exploring, with the intimate contact sending surges of blood and power through my body, preparing it for the passionate contest to come. I ended the kiss, panting. My hands started moving again, along the base of her ribcage, my palms moving under her firm, medium-sized breasts. She was a good few years younger than I, and in better shape. Her skin was taut under my hands. Her own fingers had found my scrotum, and she was absently playing with it. 'I want you to know,' she started, 'that I want to do this. Not because of... her... but in spite of her.' I nodded. 'Me too.' My heart was full. It was under the worst possible circumstances... but we'd found each other. We'd get through this, leave this place, and then, in our own place and time we would look into each other's eyes again. Until that very moment, I didn't believe in love at first sight. Maybe it was just that I'd never looked hard enough before. 'Touch me', she implored. I knew exactly what she meant. Whatever light source illuminated this strange place was enough for me to see the dew of arousal beginning to show in Laura's pubic thatch. My hand moved to it, and stroking, encouraged it further. With every little stroke, every little probe, she muttered and groaned, adding fuel to my desire. For several minutes I continued to touch her, learning the mysteries of her secret garden, and she slowly rocked and moved under my fingers. She was moist now. The hand I wasn't using to explore her sex was on a roving commission around her body. This hand was stroking an erect-nippled breast when she shook all over and gasped. 'Did you...?' I asked. She smiled. 'A little one', she replied. 'Are you ready?' she asked, and moved her legs into a welcoming posture. By way of answer, I propped myself above her and allowed her to take hold of my erect cock and guide it into her. I entered her slowly, savouring every little bit of this sweet invasion. Once I was all the way in, I paused, feeling her all around me, and let myself fall slowly on to her, touching skin to skin all along our selves. I kissed her again, and with our mouths working in concert, I started thrusting. In this strange, timeless place, we reached for our moment, and found it, and I know that when we were finished, at least one of us had tears in his eyes. We looked at each other, smiled, and rose to our feet. I took her hand in my own like it was the most natural thing in the world. Moire was there. I questioned her silently with my eyes. She spoke, and I was sure some of her imperiousness was gone. 'Your part in this is now over, Laura', she said. 'It is time for you to return to your own world. You will remember this only as a fleeting dream.' Laura was rocked by this statement. 'May... may I speak to George for a moment before I go?' she asked. Moire nodded. 'Be quick.' I burned the location of Moire into my memory before I turned to Laura. 'I'll be fine, sweetheart... don't worry. Go before she changes her mind.' 'George', she answered, 'If you come out of this okay... and you remember what happened... come and get me. Be direct... be firm... and don't take no for an answer. I like that... but I don't let anyone know it. Please... if we can, let's find each other again.' We embraced, and kissed. Possibly my last kiss, if the desperate idea I'd conceived didn't work. I treated it like my last kiss, in any event. Take your whole life in your hands and squeeze it into a ball. I didn't want to let her go, but I didn't want her to have to stay either. I looked Laura in the eyes and said, 'I love you. I'll come back for you.' We parted. Laura approached Moire and said 'I'm ready.' Moire executed one of her little dances, and the figure of the woman I loved folded in on itself, becoming a flat figure, like a cut-out, then just a vertical line, which shrank to a point, then... nothing. It looked like that little stunt had wearied Moire; she lost a little altitude and hovered for a moment about seven feet from the ground. It was now or never. Take your whole life in your hands and squeeze it into a ball. Squeeze damn hard. Bowl your best ball, make it a wrong 'un, and hope like hell she doesn't pick it, 'cos you'll only get one chance. Moire turned toward me, and was about to say something, but I'd already leapt toward her. Frantically, she flapped her wings and tried to evade me, but she was just a moment too slow. One of my hands found her arm and seized it. My sheer mass brought her down; her little wings couldn't support us both. If I was right, she had to be free to dance her aerial patterns to work her magic, so if I held on to her, she was helpless. If I was wrong... there'd be no telling what she'd do to me. The next seconds would tell the tale. She struggled, flapped her wings, and wailed a keening noise of pain. But I was still me. I was feeling triumphant and mean. So when she begged me to loosen my grip on her, I told her to shut up or I'd pull her little wings off. She gasped in horror, and her huge violet eyes filled with tears. Her voice was tiny as she said, 'You may as well tear me limb from limb. It would kill me just as surely.' And then the past hit me between the eyes, as I remembered the most shameful thing I'd ever done. As a small boy, I had once trapped a small bird - a sparrow - in the garage and battered it half to death. Just one of those things that curious small boys do. Life was such a mystery that I had to try to explore the other side of it. But then I realised that the bird was in terrible pain, that I'd maimed it, and I hated myself so much that I was sick. Then my father found out, and he forced me to put the bird out of its misery by killing it. It just may have been the most valuable lesson he ever gave me - that actions have consequences, and that a thinking human being should accept responsibility for his actions. The vicious little sadist that I always knew was lurking under the surface of my soul had come out. I was ashamed of myself. But I couldn't let her go; I was sure she'd destroy me if I did. I looked at her, and I could see awful bruises under my fingers. I was sickened by them. As I was debating my next move, there came a shimmering light in the air not ten feet away from me. A sort of hole started to appear in the very air, and a second fairy stepped through it. This one resembled Moire somewhat, but had an altogether different air about her. While she wore no badge or other mark of station, she was undeniably regal in her bearing. 'I would appreciate it, sir, if you would unhand my daughter.' Out of the frying pan. Into the blast furnace. END PART 2 <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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