Message-ID: <41018asstr$1045905003@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-AntiAbuse: This header was added to track abuse, please include it with any abuse report X-AntiAbuse: ID = 948ab4c8608b1a0ba1fa7e3decf9f577 Reply-To: katzmarek@excite.com From: "don james" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Original-Message-ID: <20030222070258.94340133D3@xmxpita.excite.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 22 Feb 2003 02:02:58 -0500 (EST) Subject: {ASSM} The Donor (part 1) By Katzmarek (MF, Preg, Fdom?) Date: Sat, 22 Feb 2003 04:10:03 -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: newsman, dennyw _______________________________________________ Join Excite! - http://www.excite.com The most personalized portal on the Web! <1st attachment, "The Donor.doc" begin> The Donor By Katzmarek This is entirely a work of fiction and to my knowledge original. If I have plagiarised any part it is accidental and the author would appreciate the pointing out of the error of his ways. Please! I am not the British Intelligence Establishment. It is written as a work of erotic fiction so, obviously, if you have an issue with that then, www.cartoonnetwork.com was probably what you were looking for, young lad. Jonathon Wetherall knocked on the front door of number 12 for the final interview before selection. He waited somewhat nervously for the door to be opened. 'Jane' admitted him into the front room that was being used as an office. As usual the other woman 'Margaret' was already seated at the desk. "This shouldn't take long Mr. Wetherall," 'Jane said, "we just need a couple of more things". Jonathon hadn't quite figured out what the relationship between the two women was. 'Were they living together in a lesbian relationship? Or were they just friends?' He couldn't tell. For the last three weeks he had absently studied the 2 for some sign, but their attitude had been entirely businesslike. "...So you've studied the contract... ah, Mr. Wetherall?" He became aware that 'Jane' was talking. "Sorry," he said, "lost in thought for a while." "I asked you if you agreed to the conditions in the contract?" She repeated somewhat peeved. "Oh yes, no problem." "Good. So if you are selected you should expect to hear from us by Friday. Did you bring your test results?" "Yes, here," he replied, handing them the brown envelope. "Good. We'll be in touch, that's all, you can go." As Jonathon walked back down the path he began to wonder whether it was such a good idea after all. All this carry-on just to donate a little of his sperm. Psychological tests, IQ tests, DNA profiling, medical history and, of course, tests for STD's. When he'd answered the ad in the local paper he'd hadn't expected it to be such a demanding process. 'Jerk a little semen into a flask', and a quick $500. Good money for something he'd be doing anyway. The contract though had run to a couple of pages. 'If 'Jane' conceived he would have no claim of custody.' 'He would forgo any parental rights. In return there would be no maintenance order.' He walked back to his tiny one-room apartment, he shared with his cat. It was in the usual disorder, clothes strewn about, dishes in the sink. 'I really need a housekeeper,' he thought to himself. He searched through his CDs scattered haphazardly next to the stereo. Bic Runga, Kristin Hersh, Kim Deal, women singers, pleasant voices, good melodies, but with an edge, a certain something. He chose Kristin and put her on, settled into his armchair and closed his eyes. On the verge of 40 Jonathon had never really stuck at anything in his life. He must have had, what, about 40 jobs so far, one for every year of his life. He made a bit of money writing copy for a local radio station and the occasional 'voice over' work. 'Voice overs' was where the real money was but it was hard to get regular work. Once your voice became associated with a product other advertisers were reluctant to use you. It's a reality of the business. 'What other jobs had he had?' Salesman, truck driver, mechanic, TV repairman, none of them had held his interest for longer then a few months. Women? He'd come close to marriage once but he'd screwed that up. As the day was coming nearer he'd suddenly got cold feet. A bad case of the jitters. Sue had finally gotten fed up with his erratic behaviour and walked out of his life. A fine woman she was too. He wasn't that bad looking. He'd always worn his blond hair long but it was beginning to thin out alarmingly. He now kept it in a ponytail. He described his features as 'Nordic' looking. His body was well proportioned and not showing any middle aged 'spread' yet. 'Two more days and I'll know whether I'll earn myself $500,' he thought to himself. On Friday morning the phone rang about 9.30. It shook Jonathon awake. He picked the receiver up struggling to clear the fog from his brain. "Yeah, whatizzit?" he said. "Mr. Wetherall?" it was 'Jane's' voice. "Yeah." "I'm pleased to tell you that you've been selected." "Good, thanks," he replied. "I want to start this weekend," she went on, "is that convenient?" "Um, sure." "Ok, 2pm, Saturday?" "I guess that'll be ok," he said wondering what game was on and whether he'd miss it. Hell! $500 for a wank, he could afford to give up an afternoon. Saturday, 1.55pm Jonathon was outside number 12. "You're prompt," said 'Jane,' "I like that." 'Jane' was in her late thirties, he figured. She wasn't bad looking, 'a bit plain', he thought and she'd always wore conservative business suits when he'd seen her. He thought maybe business executive or a lawyer. Certainly a professional type. Jonathon assumed she was a lesbian whose biological clock was ticking and wanted to have a kid before time ran out. Her hair was always tied back giving her a rather severe look. 'Jane' talked briefly to her friend 'Margaret' standing in the hallway of the rather expensive looking house. "Do you want to stick around?" "Do you want me to?" "Margaret' asked. "I think he'd be alright, he looks pretty harmless to me." "Ok, I'll be off, I'll see you on Monday." With that 'Margaret' left. No peck on the cheek, no lingering expression of affection, 'Just friends,' Jonathon thought. 'This whole set-up is looking a bit weird.' 'Jane led him through the house to a door down a short passageway. "You can get ready in there," 'Jane' said. "Ready?" Jonathon queried. "You know, do what you have to do, I'm sure you don't need instructions," she told him with a wry grin. "Oh yes, of course." He flushed in embarrassment. Jonathon opened the door to find it was a spare bedroom. A double bed dominated but for the most part the room was Spartan. "Er, just a minute," he called to 'Jane' retreating down the passageway. "What do I do with it... er... you know. Don't you have a test tube or something?" "Test tube?" She asked in surprise, "oh, I see...ha ha, that's funny. Did you assume... oh... we didn't tell you perhaps... I'm so sorry." Jonathon was confused. "No test tubes, I'm afraid. We'll be doing it the natural way. I thought you knew. It's not too late to back out if you want. Although it would be a pain finding another candidate on short notice. You were the outstanding applicant, believe it or not. All the characteristics I would want for my child." "I was, I mean, I am," Jonathon was flustered. "Natural way, you mean like... together... I mean..." "Unless you can think of some other natural method. 'Together,' would seem the only way," 'Jane' smiled. "Do you have some sort of religious objections Mr. Wetherall? You know, it did ask that question in the form we sent you. You should have stated..." She continued. "No, no objections, it's just... a bit of a surprise... I assumed I would be using a test tube and..." "We believe that intercourse is the more effective way, Mr. Wetherall. So, if you don't have a problem, shall we get on with it? I do have a dinner appointment." "Ok... sure... no problem... I'll just go back there and... get ready," Jonathon stumbled out the words. "Please." replied 'Jane' continuing up the passageway. Jonathon sat on the bed with his trousers down and his limp dick in his hand. 'Get ready,' he thought, 'get ready? How? This whole situation is about as erotic as mucking out the stables.' He tried to think of porno he had seen, girls he'd lusted after. He even tried to remember girls that had turned him down way back in school. Now he was the dark avenger, stalking them, giving some payback for the humiliations he'd suffered as a teenager. Abducting them and taking them to a cabin in the woods, in his imagination, over the next week he would turn them into his willing sex slaves. They would call him 'master' and be ready to accept him anywhere, anyway, anyhow and anytime. Jonathon squeezed and stroked his unwilling penis as first Melissa, then Annette and Joanne took him into their willing mouths. He tried to imagine their budding teenage breasts bobbing on their chests, their eager young faces. So eager to please and grateful for every compliment. "Mr. Wetherall? Are you ready yet?" 'Shit' he thought. "No, not yet... sorry." "Look, what do you need?" 'Jane' said, "I haven't got all day." "I'm not a machine," Jonathon said in exasperation. "I can't just turn it on and off." He heard her sigh outside the door. "Can I come in?" Jonathon quickly pulled up his pants and said, "Sure." 'Jane' had changed into a long silk nightdress. It hugged quite a slim figure with well-proportioned breasts. The way they jiggled when she walked across the room revealed she was braless. Her hair was still tied back severely from her face, though, giving her a stern, authoritarian look. She sat on the other side of the bed. "Listen," she said, "I'm not looking for a bell-ringing performance here. I just need you to produce the goods. I'm not interested in you as a husband or date. All I want is what you have down there and I'm willing to pay for it. That is what we agreed to. I'm sorry I don't have any porno here, I'm not interested in the stuff. I don't read romance novels, they're not worth my time. I'm a busy woman with a successful career and no time or inclination to have men come in and screw up my life. I don't know what turns you on, or care, but I've only got one hour so you'd better find the trigger soon or the deal's off and I'll go look for someone else." " I want to play my part," Jonathon said, "But this whole thing, the atmosphere, it's so clinical and businesslike. I need a bit of tenderness, attraction, chemistry, perhaps a bit of lust. Perhaps a bit of romance, even though it's being paid for. A fantasy of a romance even." "For heavens sake," she said, "men!" 'Jane' came and sat next to Jonathon. "Take down your trousers," she ordered. He shyly pushed down his pants. Almost instinctively his hands covered his genitals. "Good grief, we're a nervous wee thing, aren't we? You're not a virgin are you?" "No," he replied. "Good. Would it help if I rubbed it for you? But I don't want you groping me like a like a two-bit lay in a back alley, understood?" "Sure, yes... I mean... go ahead..." 'Jane' set to work stroking and manipulating Jonathon's dick. She seemed to know what she was doing and soon had him semi-rigid. She would pause and run her fingertips lightly down over his balls and along the inside of his thighs. They were cool and smooth to the touch. "Better?" 'Jane' asked. "Much, thanks. If you don't mind me asking, you must have had some pretty disastrous relationships in your past. To make you so... against men." "One," 'Jane' replied, "I do mind you asking, it's none of your business. Two, I'm not against men, I just can't be bothered with them. Three, I don't need the chat, thanks." "Ok, ok... whatever you say." Jonathon lay back and closed his eyes. For once he tried not to think of England, or sheep, or mucking out stables. "Think about this," 'Jane said, " how many chances do you get to get a piece of arse that's willing to pay for it, no strings, and won't come round the next day with her big brother?" " It may help," he said, "if I got a look at the piece of arse I'm getting." "Sorry, I don't do strip shows." Despite himself, Jonathon found he was getting hard. "That's better," "Jane' said, "Let's get on with it then, shall we? - With that 'Jane' lay back along the bed and pulled up her nightdress. Nice, well-shaped legs emerged, which she bent up and spread. She held the nightdress between her thighs, concealing her crotch. "C'mon, hop up," she commanded. Jonathon knelt between her thighs and edged his way forward, dick in hand. "Now don't charge in like a bull, ok?" As he neared her crotch she reached out and grabbed his penis. Taking some KY from the nightstand she squirted a little on her hand and smeared it on him. With another squirt she reached under her nightgown and did the same to herself. Jonathon got a tantalizing glimpse of her black bush. "Ok, come here... that's right... I'll guide you. Men never find it on their own... there... now be gentle." Jonathon eased himself slowly into her, with 'Jane's' hand firmly wrapped around him, controlling the action. "Ok, come in... a bit more... you can go right in now... " 'Jane' instructed. "You're tight!" "Oh please?" She reacted, "don't give me that macho bullshit. You're as big as a stallion, ok?" "That's some attitude you have lady." "Hard won! Now shut up and push." Try as he might Jonathon just couldn't get there. He even tried rapidly working himself at her entrance, but then he'd look up and see the look of impatience on 'Janes's' face and he'd wilt. Finally he sat up. "This is a waste of time," he told 'Jane'. "That is the first thing you've said I agree with," 'Jane' replied pulling down her nightdress. "I guess you're just not up to it. You'd better pull on your pants and go. I'll find someone else." "You'd better look elsewhere than the human race," replied Jonathon. "I'm not paying for the sarcasm, Mr. Wetherall, go home and feed the cat." "You're not paying me at all. How did you know I have a cat?" "I'll send you a cheque for $80. As for the cat... it figures, Mr. Wetherall, it figures. Good bye." Life pretty much returned to normal for Jonathon. By the second week he'd managed to successfully delete all thought of 'Jane' from his mind. In some ways she reminded him of his ex-fianc, smart-mouthed, too sure of herself and arrogant. Sue had finally been one over because Jonathon's wit and sarcasm exactly matched hers. By the end of the 'sword-crossing' they would dissolve in laughter and wrestle on the bed and then... But 'Jane' was as cold a fish as he'd ever come across and a complete turn off. Three weeks later the phone rings at 9am, Saturday. "Mr. Wetherall? This is 'Jane'." "Whatdayawant? I left my balls there?" "Are you still interested in a job?" "You're kidding me?" "No... Well?" (Watch this space for the stunning part 2.) <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- 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: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+