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Subject: {ASSM} The Barn, (nc? anal, bdsm)
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Date: Thu,  9 Mar 2000 00:10:32 -0500
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I was not sure if this one had been posted to ASSM but it seems
I forgot.

The usual wanrings apply...read at your peril, buyer beware, if
you are under the legal age etc in the area where you are
resident etc......please go to disney etc.

There, I've paid lip service to Tipper Gore or whatever the name
of that dreadful narrow minded biggot is......

Read on

The Barn


The candles flickered as the air currents moved, stirred by the
swing of the girl suspended by her wrists from the hook long ago
driven into the beams of the old barn.

She waited, limply, no longer willing to try to break the bonds
linking her to the ancient structure.

Few thoughts passed through her brain, her mind long since blank
through deprivation of her senses. The blindfold smelt of him,
the one who had dragged her to the barn, bound her and hung her
like curing ham. She remembered it being placed around her face,
the red pattern blurring as it passed closer to her, then only
the dull light passing through the cloth.

She heard footsteps in the edge of her senses: was he back? What
would happen? A sound, something hitting the floor, yet what?
She did not know, would never know.

Hands touched her face, tracing slowly down her cheek below the
blindfold, a finger nail scraping slowly down her neck. She
shivered, shrank back, yet could not because of her bindings.

The hands were gone, silence, then they returned to her neck,
touching her dress, two hands in the neck of the simple cotton
dress. The fingers tightened then moved apart, stripping the
dress from her back, tearing textiles asunder. The shriek of the
cloth, destroyed, was the only noise.

The cooler air caressed her back, chilling the beads of sweat
breaking her skin. The wait, the dread, the thoughts of what
could happen, what price he would extract from her, were almost
unbearable.

She felt the warmth of his breath on her ear before he spoke,
softly to her. "You shouldn't be here, you know that, don't
you?" he hissed. She swallowed, unable to speak through her dry
mouth, but nodded her head.

"Nobody knows that you're here," he paused, the breath returned
to her other ear, "you're just a missing person. I can do as I
please." She felt him move away from her. Her ears strained for
sounds indicating his intentions, but she heard nothing, only
silence.

She arched her back, wracked with pain. Her brain screamed with
shock yet was unable to register the site of the pain. After a
few seconds the burn shot across her shoulders, followed
instantly by sweat on her top lip. A second bolt of pain across
her buttocks caused her to jerk again, then relax. She swung
slowly, revolving on her rope with the tips of her toes touching
the dusty floor. Then silence.

Braced for the next blow, she waited; the seconds passed slowly,
becoming minutes, still waiting. Would she be released? Would
she be free again? When would he strike her again? What had he
used on her?

Still hanging by her wrists with the ache in her arms returning
after becoming overridden by the two blows, she felt his
presence. She thought how strange it was that she should become
so tuned in to her environment even when deprived of the use of
her eyes.

His hands were on her hips, turning her on the end of the rope,
holding her firmly. Was this when he would finally cut her down?
No! She felt his warm, naked body press against her from the
rear, his fingers searching between her buttocks, touching the
delicate flesh, the paper thin skin in her cleft, the thicker
feel of his penis, the blunt end pushing, probing, searching.
She clenched her buttocks, determined to stop his entry but
could feel his fist, wrapped around his penis, holding it in
position against her anus, his knuckles pushed into her firm
buttocks. He pushed, slowly, steadily against her anus. Unable
to resist the force her anus stretched until, with a sudden pop,
he was inside her, his groan drowned out by her cry.

The sharp stinging of her anus increased as he entered her,
turned to a burning, then eased as he slid in, his penis
disappearing as he pushed. She felt full, full enough to burst,
slightly uncomfortable with the fullness yet he unexpectedly did
not start to thrust, he just waited with his penis buried deep
in her rectum. The tears soaked into the blindfold.

After a few minutes he started to move slowly, backwards and
forwards, sawing into her, deeply, his breathing rate increasing
audibly behind her. She was powerless to offer any resistance,
with her hands tied above her head and her feet hardly touching
the ground. He stopped; she felt him adjust his position, then
holding her firmly he started to move her forwards and
backwards, pulling her further onto his penis, then pushing her
away: it was as if he were masturbating with her anus. The
sensation of fullness changed with her swinging motion on the
rope. The rate increased until her held her firmly against him,
his penis jerking in her bowels and he shot deeply into her. He
pushed her forward, and his penis withdrew from her anus, the
semen leaking out, tinted pick with blood from a small tear.

The girl was left hanging for a few moments, then without
warning she collapsed to the floor, tasting dust in her mouth
from the barn. She could feel the severed rope around her wrists
being untied, as the pressure was released she felt the blood
rush into her hands, the tingling pins and needles adding to her
day of discomfort. As feeling returned, she reached up and slid
the blindfold up her forehead. The light bursting into her eyes
caused her to close them. Slowly she squinted though eyes half
closed, adjusting to the light, trying to focus on her captor
who stood over by a table, packing a riding crop and rope into a
bag. He turned, saw her looking at him and spoke again in his
soft voice. "Is it next weekend that we are going to visit your
parents?"




If you liked this, drop me a line, and.....visit the lair of the
Fanged One at
http://pages.whowhere.lycos.com/arts/paulinusfang/index.html

Have fun.




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