Message-ID: <44617asstr$1065438607@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20031006061332.89108.qmail@web20509.mail.yahoo.com> From: Lazlo Zalezac X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 5 Oct 2003 23:13:32 -0700 (PDT) Subject: {ASSM} John Carter II 01 (mf mmf ffm ff mm sci-fi) Date: Mon, 6 Oct 2003 07:10:07 -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: dennyw, IceAltar __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? The New Yahoo! Shopping - with improved product search http://shopping.yahoo.com <1st attachment, "Mesa01.txt" begin> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. If you are offended by sexually explicit material or are under the age of 18, stop reading now. This material cannot be reproduced for commercial purposes without the consent of the author. John Carter By Lazlo Zalezak Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezak, 2003 Part 2: Mantle Of Aries Chapter 1 ... to open that door behind which lies a frightening strength. All he knows is what all people know. He knows the strength that flows into the body when pushed into a rage. Fearlessness comes and allows him to lash out at all around him. He knows the regret following devastation and hates the harm caused by such an unthinking fury. There is the guilt that comes afterward. Rage is not the only key that enables the power to escape. Fear for others allows one to perform heroic feats of strength. The parent, out of fear for their child, is strong enough to lift a car. There is the survival instinct that allows one to run for miles when chased by an enemy. There is the competitive drive that can let loose this power and allow an exhausted athlete to complete the race. There is the sacrifice that can save many at the expense of self. The soldier throws himself on the grenade to save his comrades from injury or death. He knows that the power is neutral. It can be used for good and for evil with equal ease. It is a two edged sword. Unlike a real sword, he can not be trained in the use and mastery of this tool. Without training, the power can not be aimed to achieve good ends. Hence, it is a power that must be contained by an iron will. Only specific circumstances can destroy the will that binds this power and it is in those circumstances that it is most destructive. Destruction aimed at others will turn and become self-destructive. This he knows in the same way that others know, from experience. The trail from last night's campsite to today's destination was familiar to him. He had walked it five years before and little had changed. New generations of squirrels had come and gone, yet to his eyes they could have been the same squirrels he encountered then. It is a fact of life that a particular individual does not matter in the grand scheme of things. Nature can not operate in any other fashion. For nature to be robust it can not depend upon a single individual. To do so, would make it fragile. Only individuals value one over another. His walking stick made a soft thud as it struck the dirt. Occasionally, the walking stick would make a sharp click when the brass tip would hit stone. His pace was easy, but he approached his destination steadily. He would be there on time. An observer would consider him fearless, but he feared what he would find on his arrival. Would the Goddess be angered that he had allowed harm to come to his medallion? Perhaps it was time that he, like a squirrel, was replaced by a new generation. With such thoughts, he walked through the woods towards his destination. Then, with one step, he transitioned to that other place. The colors brightened, the sounds intensified, and the air was cooler. He took a deep breath through his nose, catching scents normally hidden to the human nose. The air hinted at mystery. He took a few hesitant steps, not recalling the way to the stream. A naked man stepped free of the cover provided by the trees. John recognized that it was the same man that had broken the chain to his medallion. The man was huge and built like a bear. Thick black hair covered most of his body. Broad shoulders and strong arms completed the resemblance. His flaccid cock, impossibly large, hung over balls the size of oranges. He gestured for John to follow. They walked along a faint path through the woods. John kept his distance. He feared the man, knowing that he could break John like a twig if he so desired. Soon, they arrived at a stream through a clearing next to the woods. This was the same place John had been raped by the woman. He looked for her, but she was not in sight. The man turned and looked at John. The flaccid cock had swelled with blood to a full erection. No human male could boast of such a huge erection. Before John had a chance to react, the man grabbed him by the hair and pushed him down roughly to his knees. His cry of outrage was stopped by the introduction of a rigid cock into his mouth. He struggled to get away, but the cock was relentless in its thrusting. He grabbed the balls that hung below the cock and squeezed. His efforts had no effect. He bit down, but it was like trying to bite through a steel rod. The cock forced itself deeper into his mouth. The cock inched its way down his throat. He started to gag, but the reflex was suddenly killed. Now the man used his hold on John's hair to rock his head on the cock. John's energies were spent trying to breathe rather than trying to escape. It seemed like hours that his mouth was ravaged before the man groaned and released his cum into his mouth. His throat worked of its own volition to swallow the man's cum. When the cock was finally pulled from his mouth, John attempted to speak. His attempt was cut off as he was spun in the air. His pants and underwear were torn from his body in one swift move. He struggled, but to no effect. He screamed as the cock penetrated his ass. It was pushed to the hilt in one rapid thrust. The pain was intense. It felt like a baseball bat had been shoved up his ass. He was spun around to find himself looking up at man. He watched as the man grunted as he thrust hard into his ass. He struggled to free himself from the man's grasp, but the grip on him was made of iron. The ass fucking continued for hours. His own cock began to erect. His mind rebelled, but his body acted on its own. The man grabbed John's cock and started to pull on it. His grip was hard and it felt like he was trying to rip the cock from John's body. The pulls on his cock were timed to coincide with the thrusts in his ass. Finally, John's body performed its' final betrayal. He shot cum high into the air. At the same time, the man unloaded his cum in John's ass. Each time the man pulled John's cock, John ejaculated again. Repeatedly, for at least an hour, John ejaculated into the air. Finally, the man stopped his actions and withdrew. With the cessation of activities, the man dropped John to the ground. John lay there, his balls in pain from the excessive milking they had received. His shirt soaked with his own cum. When John looked up, the man was holding his medallion in one hand. John reached for it. The man threw it in the air. John's eyes followed the flight of the medallion to the top of a huge cliff. John turned and looked at the man. The man pointed to the top of the cliff. He wanted John to retrieve the medallion. Afraid that he would be raped again if he hesitated, John decided to go after it without further prompting. John stood up on shaky legs. His ass hurt, his cock was sore, and his mouth tasted of cum. He was wearing a shirt and his shoes. His pants and underwear were gone. His backpack was still on his back. He walked to the base of the cliff and looked up. It seemed impossibly high. He glanced once at the man and then started to climb. The climb was easy at first. He took his time and conserved his energy for later. As he climbed, the footholds and handholds became smaller making the climb more difficult. Little cracks in the wall were home to scorpions and spiders. They crawled out and attempted to sting his hands. He used his knife to clear the handholds of the insects. As sweat started to run down his face and into his eyes, he had to work more carefully. It was with an initial sense of relief that the handholds became larger. Then, as he reached for one of them, he heard the telltale rattle of a rattlesnake. He held the knife to his body to warm it. With considerable caution, he lifted the knife up. The snake struck at the knife. In striking, the snake overextended beyond its ability to recover and fell over the edge to the ground below. More snakes were coiled on handholds above him. He repeated his actions, one handhold and one snake at a time. He finally came to a large ledge on which he could stand. Climbing onto it, he found a dead cat, its head crushed by a rock. It was a stripped tabby and his shoulders sagged with sadness at the sight. Next to the cat were three kittens. There was a tawny, a tiger striped, and a black kitten. The kittens would not be able to survive on their own. John removed his backpack and carefully placed the kittens in it. They fought and scratched at first, but he calmed them down by making gentle sounds to them. They were too young to be wild or to have gone feral. Their eyes had probably been open for only a day or two. He closed his backpack making sure that the kittens could breath and yet couldn't get out. As he moved around on the ledge, a rock came hurtling down. It missed him by mere inches. He signed a breath of relief at his narrow escape. He moved again and another rock flew past him. He had assumed the first rock was the result of something moving above him. The second suggested something a little more sinister. He looked up in time to see a man leaning out of a cave throw a rock at him. He ducked out of the way just in time. He looked around trying to decide what to do. Small outcroppings of rock dotted the wall of the cliff. He climbed sideways until the outcropping was between him and the man. Rocks continued to rain down upon him. The outcropping protected him from the rocks, but the handholds were tiny and far apart. He struggled up, the strain on his fingers almost beyond his ability to withstand. When he reached one outcropping he had to climb sideways to get beneath another. Those were nervous times as rocks fell around him. His progress up the cliff had slowed to a near stand still. Despite his seeming lack of progress, he persevered. Slowly he approached the cave from which the man was throwing rocks. He climbed towards the cave. He reached a crease in the rock face that ran next to the cave. He entered it and was then able to climb without fear of thrown rocks. The crease stopped a little above the mouth of the cave. He realized that if he left the crease, the man could reach out and hit him with a stone. That would end his climb. He reached out and grabbed the side of the cave. With an effort that nearly drained his remaining energy, he swung himself into the cave. The wild man inside attacked him immediately. John fought to subdue the man. The man fought to kill John. His eyes shone with a madness that denied any suggestion of rationality. As the man scratched, kicked, bit, and hit, John resisted. He grabbed John and tried to strangle him. John threw the man off. The wild man stumbled backwards out the mouth of the cave and fell to the ground below. John slumped to the ground breathing hard. His efforts had nearly drained him. He was tired, sore, and hungry. His eyes took in the cave looking for anything that could help him in his situation. There was nothing but loose stones. His attention was suddenly grabbed by a sound from deep within the cave. It was the sound of a person running. John stood up and waited, hoping that this person was more reasonable than the last. His hopes were dashed when the man immediately threw himself at John. The struggle was shorter as John was less willing to try to subdue the man. Again, the other man was only stopped when he was thrown out the mouth of the cave. This repeated itself as one man, or sometimes two men, ran from the back of the cave intent on killing John. He fought only to keep from getting killed. The wild men fought on until they were thrown to the ground below. He drew upon reserves that he did not know he possessed. He never intentionally killed the men, he only tried to subdue them. There came a time when he stood poised for the next man and no one came. It was over. He did not trust the peace enough to rest there. John went to the mouth of the cave and looked up at the top of the cliff. It was only ten feet above him. He started climbing. In seconds his arms began trembling with fatigue. His legs shook. He pulled himself up a foot. His fingers cramped as pulling up his weight stressed them. Pain shot through his arms. Sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes. His vision blurred. He moved a foot up seeking some small outcropping or crack that would support his weight. Looking down only allowed more sweat to run into his eyes. He found a small crack and lifted himself up. He felt the rock above him with numb fingers as he searched for another handhold. He struggled to climb. Each foot of progress upward sapped his strength. For a well-rested man, this portion of the climb would have been easy. For a tired man, it was murder. He finally reached the top and pulled himself over. He lay there with his feet hanging over the edge. He didn't care; he was past caring. He lay there for thirty minutes before dragging himself upright. He looked down at himself. His scared legs were scratched and bruised. His cock looked like a bloody mess. His fingers were bloody stubs. A fingertip looked like it had been bitten off. The tip of a bone was visible through the meaty flesh of his finger. He looked around at his surroundings. He was on top of a mesa that rose impossibly high out of a forest. The plateau on which he stood was less than a hundred feet across. It was flat and featureless covered by scrub brush. There was only a single tree. He opened his backpack to check on the kittens. They were curled up and asleep in his pack. He looked over them and wondered what he would do with them. He had no milk. At least they had survived to this point in time. He put on his backpack and went in search of the medallion. It wasn't long before he found it lying on the ground near the center of the mesa top. He knelt down and picked it up. He looked at it and saw the chain had been repaired, but the medallion had changed. The man who had sent him on this task appeared next to him. He took the medallion from John and placed it around his neck. He stated, "John Carter, you have learned compassion and used it to help people. Now it is time for you to discover your strength and use it to protect people." John was bent over; his hands on knees as he listened. He couldn't catch his breath. The sweat ran in a river, dripping off his nose. At that moment, he didn't feel like he had any strength. The man smiled at him and then stated, "You have done well, it is time for you to rest, John Carter." He woke stretched out under a tree next to the clearing. He was rested and felt good. He was fully dressed with the clothes that he had been wearing, but they were clean and like new. His hands were healed. He slowly became aware of a low rumbling noise and a pressure on his thigh. He slowly sat up and looked down at his thigh expecting to find his backpack. Instead, he found a full-grown cougar. It was a beautiful example of its species. The tawny brown coat was thick and glowed with a healthy luster. He estimated that it was somewhere between 175 and 190 pounds. It was asleep with its head lying on his thigh. The low rumbling sound was a purr. His heart raced as he tried to figure out what to do. The very last thing he wanted to do was to surprise the cat. A cat that big could do significant damage to an unarmed man. He searched for his backpack hoping that he could get to his knife. It was too far out of his reach. His walking stick was on the ground next to him. He grabbed it and tried to use it to move his pack closer. The movement must have woken the cat. The pressure suddenly disappeared from his thigh and the purring sound stopped. John slowly turned his head to find the cat sitting and watching him. John stayed frozen in place, but the cat never moved. Deciding it was time to take a chance, he stood. The cat watched him stand, but made no other movement. John took a hesitant step away. The cat stood and approached him. With a sudden move, the cat rubbed his head against John's leg. John was astounded. He took several more steps. The cat followed him, staying within a hand's reach. When he walked, the cat followed. When he stopped, the cat sat down. When he took a step forward, the cat just watched. John decided to continue his planned trip into the town where his car was parked. If the cat came with him, so be it. If the cat attacked, there wasn't much he could do except fight back. Attacking the cat would only serve to start trouble. He stepped over to his backpack and opened it. He peered inside to see if there were any kittens in it. There weren't. He closed the pack and swung it into place on his back with practiced ease. He turned towards the trail and set out. The cat glided beside him, keeping pace easily. John watched him out of the corner of his eye. He reached the end of the trail and stepped onto a sidewalk. He expected the cat to return to the woods. The cat, despite John's expectations, stayed with him. In a few minutes, he was walking down the street. John wondered how the cat would react to city noises. A car drove by, but the cat paid no attention to it. His destination, the restaurant where he met Lily, was only a few feet away. He looked down at the cat and pondered his situation. Should he go into the restaurant? If he did, would the cat follow him in? Then he decided that he didn't care, it was foolish to let a cat dictate his life. He opened the door to the restaurant and stepped in. The cat squeezed between him and the door so that they entered the restaurant together. John caught his reflection in the same mirror that had hung there on his first visit here. He knew enough this time to expect changes and not to spend much time marveling over his new appearance. He made a quick inventory, his beard was totally white now and he had two streaks of white in his hair. He wondered what changes had occurred that he couldn't see. He walked over to the counter. No one was visible. Hesitant to enter the kitchen, he called out, "George? Martha?" It was several minutes before Martha came out from the kitchen. She looked a little flustered. Her face and upper chest showed clear signs of a sex induced blush. As she walked, she tucked her blouse into her skirt. She looked over at him for a second and then a smile spread across her face, "Is that you John?" "Yes, ma'am," replied John. He was pleased that Martha remembered him. She shouted out, "Hey, George. Get out here. It's John Carter." George came out of the kitchen. He extended his hand across the counter in a friendly gesture, "Hello, John. It's good to see you again." John took his hand and shook it. George actually looked younger than the last time he had seen him. He smiled, "It's good to see you again. How are things going?" "Good." "Great. I saw Lily a couple of months ago. She looked really good." George and Martha smiled at the memory of the unexpected vacation. Martha asked, "Can we get you something to eat?" John nodded, "That would be great. I'll take soup and an egg salad sandwich. My friend here, will take six pounds of raw meat." George looked around and didn't see anyone. John pointed down at the cat. It was seated on the floor next to him. George leaned over the counter, "Jesus H. Christ. Where did you get that?" John shrugged, "He followed me here. Do you know of anyone that lost a pet cougar?" "No. I don't even know anyone crazy enough to have a pet cougar." John shook his head. "Strangest thing in the world. I woke up this morning and he had his head on my leg purring like a freight train. He hasn't let me out of his sight since then." George laughed, "Coming from anyone else, I wouldn't believe that story. Knowing you, I have to believe." Martha asked, "Will he attack me if I try to pet him?" John shrugged, "I really don't know. I haven't tried to pet him or anything myself. I thought that by coming into town, he'd run away. He didn't." George shook his head, "Well, I'll fix you a bowl of soup and an egg salad sandwich. I'll see what I've got that he'll like." John sat down on one of the chairs. The cat leaned its head against his thigh and started purring. John slowly edged a hand down and rubbed it behind the ears. The purr grew even louder. Martha watched the cat fascinated. She whispered, "It sure seems tame." "I have no idea if it is or not. I'm working on the assumption that it is wild" George came out with a couple of dishes. He set the soup and sandwich in front of John and a huge plate of raw hamburger on the counter next to him. John grabbed the plate and set it on the floor. The cat started eating right away. John turned his attention to the vegetable soup. He remembered the last time he had come here and Lily had served him. He took a bite of his sandwich and made an appreciative sound. He glanced down at the cat. It had finished the whole pile of hamburger. He looked up at George and smiled, "I think he likes your lack of cooking." George laughed, "First time I've ever gotten that as a compliment." John laughed, "Well, I like your cooking." Martha kept watching the cat. She turned to George, "Can I get one?" George shook his head, "If we get a cat, it's going to be a whole lot smaller than that one." John finished his lunch and leaned on the counter. He looked around the room and noticed some changes. The floor had new tile, the walls were painted, and the chairs replaced. He stated, "You guys have made some major changes around here." George smiled, "After you're last visit here, we looked around at the place and realized that we had let it get a little run down. I guess it was the cleaning you did there in the kitchen. Anyway, we started taking a week vacation every once in a while. While we are gone, we have a crew come in to fix things up. Business has picked up and we're doing better than ever." John smiled, "Good. That's very nice. I bet you enjoy the vacations too." Martha smiled, "Yes. It reminded us why we got married." George laughed, "Yeah. We had gotten to the point where I was the cook and she was the waitress. We had forgotten that we were husband and wife. You and Lily helped remind us of that." "How's that?" Martha giggled, "It might have been all of those sounds coming out of the RV." John blushed and wondered how a fifty year old woman's giggle could embarrass him so easily. He wondered if they could have heard them outside the RV. They must have been standing right next to it with their ears pressed up to the window. George smiled, "What can I say? You two were hot." John shook his head, "Well, I'm glad to know that we helped. As much as I would love to stay here and chat, I had better get going. How much do I owe you?" "Don't worry about it." "Nah, my friend here ate a lot." "How about fifteen dollars? Does that sound fair." John shook his head. His calculation suggested that it was closer to twenty. Rather than fight about it, he agreed, "Okay, sounds fair enough." John pulled eighteen dollars out of his pocket and set it beside his plate. He stepped away from the chair. He bent down and picked up the empty plate setting it on the counter. He turned to the George and Martha, "See you guys later." "Alright, John. You take it easy." John walked to the door and opened it. The cat slipped out with him. He shook his head, "Well, cat. I guess I'm going to have to learn how to take care of a cougar. I wonder how much you are supposed to eat each day." The cat didn't bother to answer him. He just walked beside John as if it was his natural place. John watched the cougar out of the corner of his eye, expecting it to suddenly get tired of its adventure and return to the woods. John walked to the gas station where he had parked his car. The owner came out wiping some oil off his hands. Without looking up, he stated, "Well, that was five days at five dollars a day. Twenty five dollars." John fished twenty-five dollars out of his wallet and handed it over to the owner of the gas station. The owner, after counting the money, looked up and saw the cat. He jumped back in panic, "What in the hell's that?" John smiled, "A cat. Do you know anyone who's lost a pet cougar?" "Hell no. All of my friends are sane." The owner backed away into the station the whole time he answered. He closed the door behind him. He watched John through the glass window. John smiled at the owner and opened the door of his jeep. He decided that it was time for him and the cat to part company. The cat had other ideas. The cat jumped into the car and climbed into the back. The cat took up almost the entire back seat. John stared at the cat for a minute and decided that he had just been adopted by the cat. Climbing into jeep, he set his pack and walking stick in the passenger seat. He settled himself behind the wheel and closed the door. The drive to Jed Hart's store was only a half an hour. John spent the half-hour reviewing the events of the day. He had been raped, his medallion had been fixed, and he had become the pet of a cougar. Apparently four days had passed. Of all the events, being adopted by the cougar was the weirdest. He looked in the mirror to see the cougar looking out the window. When he arrived at the store, he pulled out the medallion from under his shirt and examined it. Now there were two of them fused together along a common edge. One medallion was unchanged. The other medallion had a picture of a mesa in the center that looked very much like an erection. Above the picture were the words "A Mesa" while below the picture were the words "To Conquer." The other side was identical except the order of the words was inverted. He said them aloud to himself, "A Mesa To Conquer. To Conquer A Mesa." He sat there pondering the meaning of the dual medallions. He guessed that he now served both the God and the Goddess. A thousand questions flooded through his mind. Unfortunately, he had no answers. He had gotten used to his life over the past five years and wondered if this meant that it was going to change in a major way. John got out of the jeep, taking the walking stick with him. He was going to slam the door shut, but the cougar followed him out. He waited until the cat was completely out of the car. He cringed at the thought of a having a full-grown cougar with its tail caught in a car door. He went into the store accompanied by the cat. As before, John was overwhelmed by he diversity of goods within the store. He walked the aisles examining the goods. He stopped to examine a gadget that looked like it might be useful, but he lifted it and decided that it was too heavy. The all-metal construction added a lot of weight. He put it back on the shelf. The cougar batted at it making it swing back and forth. He was startled by an irritated voice behind him, "John Carter." He turned, "Jed Hart." "What are you doing here?" He had returned from his last trip because he felt that a new medallion owner was going to stop in the shop. He had to be here. John had already been provisioned with what he would need. John shouldn't be here. John stated, "Just came out of the park again." "Why did you go back?" "The chain broke on my medallion." Jed's eyebrows rose in disbelief. He argued, "Don't you know that's impossible?" John pulled out his medallion and showed it to Jed. Jed bent closely and examined it. He looked up in awe, "I've met everyone who's ever gotten one of those. You are the first I've met that has two. How did it happen?" John looked out the window. His hand idly stroked the cat behind the ears. He stated, "A God broke it at the earthquake. He sent me back to the park to get it repaired." "How do you know it was a God?" "He met me in the park." John shuddered at the memory of his rape. "You've met two of them," Jed observed. He examined John carefully and saw the slightly haunted look that comes from close contact with the Gods and Goddesses. He glanced down at the cat and didn't even react. He'd had a medallion wearer come in with a wolf and another with a bear. He stated, "Stay here. I have something for you." John looked around at the goods. The cat lay down on the floor, a paw resting on his foot. John looked down at him and said, "I guess I need to find a name for you." The cat looked up at him. John knelt down making sure that he didn't disturb the cat. He looked at the cat and asked, "How about Monty?" The cat looked away. John suggested a number of cat names with the same lack to positive response. As a joke he tried a different one. "How about Rover? Do you like Rover?" The cat purred and rubbed his head against John's knee. The cat actually seemed to like the name. John laughed, "Okay, I'll call you Rover." Jed returned carrying a bundle of gray cloth. He shook it out and John saw that it was a cloak. John stood up to see it better. Jed stepped behind John and set the cloak on his shoulders. It hung down to the middle of his calf. John closed the solid silver clasp. The cloak fit perfectly. The workmanship was outstanding. In a specialty store, it would be worth thousands of dollars. Jed explained, "The material is waterproof and flame resistant. It has a hood that you can pull up. You can walk through a rainstorm and not get wet. You can walk through a fire and it will protect you for a while. The fabric is a neutral color and will blend into just about any background." John examined the cloak. He could tell that it would help keep him warm in the winter and cool in the summer. He turned to Jed, "Thank you. How much is it?" "No charge. Just like before." John shook his head, "I don't feel right just taking it." Jed frowned, "You serve in your fashion. I serve in mine." Understanding dawned on John. Jed couldn't charge him for this anymore than he could take a reward for rescuing someone. John nodded, "Well, I hope that I don't have to come by here again." Jed was brusque, "You'll never be back this way again. Who would ever get three medallions? Now you need to get on your way." John turned and extended his hand. Jed took it in a surprisingly strong grip. As they shook hands, John stated, "Thank you, Jed. May you journey far and enjoy each step." "Thank you, John. May your road be good and the weather kind." <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: Moderators: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at Hosted by | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+