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From: Richard Bissell <r_bissell41@my-deja.com>
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X-Article-Creation-Date: Fri Jun 02 16:37:06 2000 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Amber: The Making of a Fuck Toy {RBissell}(2/?)(teen, slut)
Date: Fri,  2 Jun 2000 22:10:05 -0400
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X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, kelly
Adults only, no prudes.  If you don't like sex stories containing people
engaging in weird perversions, or you can't separate truth from fiction,
get lost.  The author does not advocate or condone anything that goes on
in this story.
This story is mine.  You can repost it or archive it only if 1) you
don't change it, 2) my name and this disclaimer remain attached, and 3)
you aren't making money off it.  That includes posting it on some
slimeball banner farm web site.  Yes, that means you!
This mean, nasty, and perhaps out-of-character piece is yet another
spin-off from CGC.  I got quite a few requests to bring other men into
that story, never mind that I repeatedly stated that I wasn't going to
do it.  I'm not much attracted to the "slut" genre, so it never appealed
to me a great deal.  But recently, I came across a story containing a
theme that seemed to work, and after playing with it in the context of
CGC, I had an idea.  That idea turned into this.  Don't look for any of
the intelligent, redeeming plot elements you usually see in my stories,
because you won't find them here.  This is pure porn.
You know the drill: If you like it, let me know.  You can find my other
stories in the following archives:
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Richard_Bissell/www
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MichaelD/www/
www.storiesonline.net (under authors, MichaelD38)
Overall Story Codes: Mf, MFf, Mm+/f, teen, bdsm, humil, mast, piercing,
oral, anal, gangbang
AMBER: THE MAKING OF A FUCK TOY
(C)opyright 2000 by Richard Bissell
---
Chapter 2.
"Get up," I said.
Amber looked at me in confusion for a second and then sat up.  She
reached for her top, but I stopped her.
"No.  Stand up."
She did, still quivering in agitation.
I searched through my closet until I found a scarf, which I used to
blindfold her.  She gasped as I covered her eyes and began breathing
rapidly.
"What are you doing?"
"It's not what I'm doing; it's what you're going to do."
"What is it?"
I took her arm and tried to lead her out of the bedroom.  She took a few
steps before speaking up again.
"Where are we going?"
I stopped.
"Amber, do you want to do this?"
"Yes."
"Then stop asking me questions and just do what I tell you to."
"I'm sorry."
"Come on."
I led her to the back door.  When I opened it, she squeaked in fright
and began shivering even harder.  I could see her jaw vibrating as the
fought the urge to ask me what was going on.
She followed me out to my car, now shaking so hard that she had trouble
walking.  I lived on a fairly large wooded lot, and so far no one could
see us.  But that was about to change.
Amber climbed into my car when I opened the door.  By the time I got
into the driver's seat she was on the verge of tears, shaking and
gasping in her seat.
"You want to ask me where we're going, don't you?"
She nodded violently.
"You'll see eventually.  This is part of your training.  You want to be
a slut, don't you?"
She nodded again.
"All right.  Here we go."
I started the car and drove out of the garage.  It was quite dark, and
Amber was short enough that no one was going to see much of her unless
they looked directly into the car.  But she probably didn't realize
that.
Her arms were pressed across her body now, one over her breasts, the
other in her lap.  I took the arm closest to me and pulled it away from
her breasts.
"Relax your arms.  Never cover yourself unless I tell you to."
Still shaking in fear, she lowered her arms to her sides.
I drove outside of town to a local park, finally stopping on a hill
overlooking the town.  No one else was around, which was fine for now.
Amber had calmed down a little while I was driving, but when I stopped
the car, she began shaking again.  I went around and opened the
passenger side door, reaching for her hand.  She was so tense she could
hardly move.
"Get out.  Come on."
She took one awkward step out, then another.  I helped her to her feet.
 She swung her head back and forth, unable to see but trying to listen
for anything around us.
I led her away from the car toward the edge of the hilltop, where there
were a couple of picnic benches.  I had Amber sit on one of them, facing
the town.  She held her arms tight around her waist, obviously wanting
to cover herself but just as obviously not wanting to upset me.
"Are you all right?"
She couldn't answer me right away.
"Amber?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to go home?"
A few rapid gasps.
"I don't know."
"Yes or no."
"No."
"Because?"
"Because you don't want me to."
"Very good."
I took her arms and removed them from her waist, then spread her legs
slowly.  She was still in a lather of agitation, shaking and quivering
on the picnic table.
"Masturbate."
She gasped.
"What?"
"Masturbate.  Get yourself off.  You do know how, don't you?"
"Um--"
"Have you done it before?"
The shakes intensified, and she began to cry again.
"Amber, answer me."
"Yes," she squeaked.
"Then do it.  Now."
One hand moved weakly between her legs, and she tried to play with
herself.  But she was shaking and gasping so hard that she could do
little to herself.
"Amber, if you were really a slut, you would have no problem with this.
 Sluts don't care about where they are or who might be watching.
They're only interested in fucking.  Do you understand?"
"Yes," she gasped.
"We're not leaving until you come.  Unless you just want me to take you
straight home."
She fought to get control of herself, and her movements became more
deliberate.  She rubbed herself gently with her middle finger, pushing
it in and out of her labia just below her clit.  She tried to lean back
a little to get a better angle on herself, and I helped her lie flat on
her back.  That seemed to calm her down somewhat.
I watched as she grew wetter and wetter, until her finger was glistening
in the moonlight.  I looked around us, watching for other cars, but saw
no one.  The local make-out spot was in this park but near the other
end.  We were not likely to be disturbed up here.
Amber's legs started to twitch, and her hips began to squirm as her
fingers moved faster.  One hand had come up to play with her tits.  She
had stopped shaking completely, lost now in making love to herself.  I
sat down, straddling one of the benches, right by Amber's head.  I
stroked her forehead gently as she neared orgasm.
When she seemed close to the brink, I pushed the blindfold off of her
face.  Her eyes flew open and she sat up to look around.
"Don't stop.  Keep going."
She gasped, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes tightly.  A few
seconds later, her back arched and a little squeak came out of her nose
as she came.  Then she shook and quivered gently in the aftermath for
several moments.  I bent and kissed the sweat from her forehead.
"Very nice."
Her eyes opened slowly, and she forced herself to look around.  She
relaxed visibly when she realized no one else was near.
She sat up slowly, unsure what to do now.  Her chest and face were
flushed a deep red.
"Did you enjoy that?"
She shrugged.
"No?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
"You thought we might have an audience, didn't you?"
She nodded again.
"But you did it anyway."
Her eyes met mine again, then looked down.
"Some day you might.  Some day I may want you to perform like this for
someone else.  I may even want you to fuck them."
Her eyes shot up again in horror.
"If you're going to be a slut, that's the sort of thing sluts do."
Her jaw began vibrating again, but she said nothing.
"Come here."
I took one of her legs and had her sit directly in front of me, one foot
planted on the bench on either site of me.  The scent of her arousal
rose up around us.
"Again."
"What?"
"Do it again.  Get yourself off."
Taking a nervous breath, she moved her hand back between her legs and
resumed masturbating.  This time I watched from only a few inches away,
watched her fingers pumping busily into her sex.  She leaned back on one
hand, gasping for breath.
I reached for one of her breasts, and she started when I touched her.
But she didn't stop.  I stroked her gently, feeling the firmness of her
little tits.  They were ripe and upturned, with prominent pink nipples,
totally ignoring the force of gravity.  She twitched as I played with
them, twisting them back and forth.
"Tell me when you're going to come.  Tell me right before it happens."
She nodded rapidly, and her hand moved faster.  About a minute later, as
her body started to shake, she squeaked out, "Now."
I grabbed her hand and jerked it from between her legs.  She gasped,
shaking against my grip, and her thighs tried to slam shut against my
chest.  She squirmed in front of me, face contorted in frustration.
"Did you come?"
She fought the shaking of her body to answer me.
"No.  It hurts."
I pushed her flat on her back and bent to lick at her.  She half-gasped
and half-squeaked, gripping the edge of the table tightly.  I stuck my
tongue into her, tasting her sweet fluids, then began pummeling her clit
with my tongue.  Another quiet cry burst from her lungs, and she
thrashed in orgasm under me.  I kept it up until the tremors subsided a
few seconds later.
I let her rest for a few moments, then stood up.
"Time to go.  Get up."
She struggled to her feet and followed me back to the car.  We drove
home in silence.
When we got back, I led her into the bedroom.  I could see the nervous
anticipation in her eyes, but I was about to surprise her again.
"You can get dressed."
She looked up in confusion, not moving toward her clothes.
"You thought we were going to fuck?"
She nodded weakly.
"We're a long way from that.  You haven't earned it yet.  Get dressed."
She did, quickly and quietly.  When she was done, I took her in my arms
and caressed her gently.  I sat on the edge of the bed, and she climbed
into my lap.
"You surprised me tonight."
"I did?"
"I didn't think you would be able to do all that.  I didn't think you
had it in you.  I half-expected this to simply be a way to get rid of
you."
She didn't answer me right away.
"Do you want to be rid of me?"
"No.  Not anymore.  You have potential now, I think."
She gulped.
"To be a slut."
"Yes."
She shivered in my arms.
"Go home.  Come back tomorrow."
---
-To be continued.-
---
Amber: The Making of a Fuck Toy
Copyright 2000 by Richard Bissell
Free redistribution permitted; no commercial use without authorization.
-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
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Message-ID: <24454asstr$959998205@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
X-Original-Path: not-for-mail
From: Richard Bissell <r_bissell41@my-deja.com>
X-Original-Message-ID: <8h8nrh$t3v$1@nnrp1.deja.com>
X-Article-Creation-Date: Fri Jun 02 16:37:06 2000 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Amber: The Making of a Fuck Toy {RBissell}(2/?)(teen, slut)
Date: Fri,  2 Jun 2000 22:10:05 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/24454>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, kelly
Adults only, no prudes.  If you don't like sex stories containing people
engaging in weird perversions, or you can't separate truth from fiction,
get lost.  The author does not advocate or condone anything that goes on
in this story.
This story is mine.  You can repost it or archive it only if 1) you
don't change it, 2) my name and this disclaimer remain attached, and 3)
you aren't making money off it.  That includes posting it on some
slimeball banner farm web site.  Yes, that means you!
This mean, nasty, and perhaps out-of-character piece is yet another
spin-off from CGC.  I got quite a few requests to bring other men into
that story, never mind that I repeatedly stated that I wasn't going to
do it.  I'm not much attracted to the "slut" genre, so it never appealed
to me a great deal.  But recently, I came across a story containing a
theme that seemed to work, and after playing with it in the context of
CGC, I had an idea.  That idea turned into this.  Don't look for any of
the intelligent, redeeming plot elements you usually see in my stories,
because you won't find them here.  This is pure porn.
You know the drill: If you like it, let me know.  You can find my other
stories in the following archives:
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Richard_Bissell/www
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MichaelD/www/
www.storiesonline.net (under authors, MichaelD38)
Overall Story Codes: Mf, MFf, Mm+/f, teen, bdsm, humil, mast, piercing,
oral, anal, gangbang
AMBER: THE MAKING OF A FUCK TOY
(C)opyright 2000 by Richard Bissell
---
Chapter 2.
"Get up," I said.
Amber looked at me in confusion for a second and then sat up.  She
reached for her top, but I stopped her.
"No.  Stand up."
She did, still quivering in agitation.
I searched through my closet until I found a scarf, which I used to
blindfold her.  She gasped as I covered her eyes and began breathing
rapidly.
"What are you doing?"
"It's not what I'm doing; it's what you're going to do."
"What is it?"
I took her arm and tried to lead her out of the bedroom.  She took a few
steps before speaking up again.
"Where are we going?"
I stopped.
"Amber, do you want to do this?"
"Yes."
"Then stop asking me questions and just do what I tell you to."
"I'm sorry."
"Come on."
I led her to the back door.  When I opened it, she squeaked in fright
and began shivering even harder.  I could see her jaw vibrating as the
fought the urge to ask me what was going on.
She followed me out to my car, now shaking so hard that she had trouble
walking.  I lived on a fairly large wooded lot, and so far no one could
see us.  But that was about to change.
Amber climbed into my car when I opened the door.  By the time I got
into the driver's seat she was on the verge of tears, shaking and
gasping in her seat.
"You want to ask me where we're going, don't you?"
She nodded violently.
"You'll see eventually.  This is part of your training.  You want to be
a slut, don't you?"
She nodded again.
"All right.  Here we go."
I started the car and drove out of the garage.  It was quite dark, and
Amber was short enough that no one was going to see much of her unless
they looked directly into the car.  But she probably didn't realize
that.
Her arms were pressed across her body now, one over her breasts, the
other in her lap.  I took the arm closest to me and pulled it away from
her breasts.
"Relax your arms.  Never cover yourself unless I tell you to."
Still shaking in fear, she lowered her arms to her sides.
I drove outside of town to a local park, finally stopping on a hill
overlooking the town.  No one else was around, which was fine for now.
Amber had calmed down a little while I was driving, but when I stopped
the car, she began shaking again.  I went around and opened the
passenger side door, reaching for her hand.  She was so tense she could
hardly move.
"Get out.  Come on."
She took one awkward step out, then another.  I helped her to her feet.
 She swung her head back and forth, unable to see but trying to listen
for anything around us.
I led her away from the car toward the edge of the hilltop, where there
were a couple of picnic benches.  I had Amber sit on one of them, facing
the town.  She held her arms tight around her waist, obviously wanting
to cover herself but just as obviously not wanting to upset me.
"Are you all right?"
She couldn't answer me right away.
"Amber?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to go home?"
A few rapid gasps.
"I don't know."
"Yes or no."
"No."
"Because?"
"Because you don't want me to."
"Very good."
I took her arms and removed them from her waist, then spread her legs
slowly.  She was still in a lather of agitation, shaking and quivering
on the picnic table.
"Masturbate."
She gasped.
"What?"
"Masturbate.  Get yourself off.  You do know how, don't you?"
"Um--"
"Have you done it before?"
The shakes intensified, and she began to cry again.
"Amber, answer me."
"Yes," she squeaked.
"Then do it.  Now."
One hand moved weakly between her legs, and she tried to play with
herself.  But she was shaking and gasping so hard that she could do
little to herself.
"Amber, if you were really a slut, you would have no problem with this.
 Sluts don't care about where they are or who might be watching.
They're only interested in fucking.  Do you understand?"
"Yes," she gasped.
"We're not leaving until you come.  Unless you just want me to take you
straight home."
She fought to get control of herself, and her movements became more
deliberate.  She rubbed herself gently with her middle finger, pushing
it in and out of her labia just below her clit.  She tried to lean back
a little to get a better angle on herself, and I helped her lie flat on
her back.  That seemed to calm her down somewhat.
I watched as she grew wetter and wetter, until her finger was glistening
in the moonlight.  I looked around us, watching for other cars, but saw
no one.  The local make-out spot was in this park but near the other
end.  We were not likely to be disturbed up here.
Amber's legs started to twitch, and her hips began to squirm as her
fingers moved faster.  One hand had come up to play with her tits.  She
had stopped shaking completely, lost now in making love to herself.  I
sat down, straddling one of the benches, right by Amber's head.  I
stroked her forehead gently as she neared orgasm.
When she seemed close to the brink, I pushed the blindfold off of her
face.  Her eyes flew open and she sat up to look around.
"Don't stop.  Keep going."
She gasped, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes tightly.  A few
seconds later, her back arched and a little squeak came out of her nose
as she came.  Then she shook and quivered gently in the aftermath for
several moments.  I bent and kissed the sweat from her forehead.
"Very nice."
Her eyes opened slowly, and she forced herself to look around.  She
relaxed visibly when she realized no one else was near.
She sat up slowly, unsure what to do now.  Her chest and face were
flushed a deep red.
"Did you enjoy that?"
She shrugged.
"No?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
"You thought we might have an audience, didn't you?"
She nodded again.
"But you did it anyway."
Her eyes met mine again, then looked down.
"Some day you might.  Some day I may want you to perform like this for
someone else.  I may even want you to fuck them."
Her eyes shot up again in horror.
"If you're going to be a slut, that's the sort of thing sluts do."
Her jaw began vibrating again, but she said nothing.
"Come here."
I took one of her legs and had her sit directly in front of me, one foot
planted on the bench on either site of me.  The scent of her arousal
rose up around us.
"Again."
"What?"
"Do it again.  Get yourself off."
Taking a nervous breath, she moved her hand back between her legs and
resumed masturbating.  This time I watched from only a few inches away,
watched her fingers pumping busily into her sex.  She leaned back on one
hand, gasping for breath.
I reached for one of her breasts, and she started when I touched her.
But she didn't stop.  I stroked her gently, feeling the firmness of her
little tits.  They were ripe and upturned, with prominent pink nipples,
totally ignoring the force of gravity.  She twitched as I played with
them, twisting them back and forth.
"Tell me when you're going to come.  Tell me right before it happens."
She nodded rapidly, and her hand moved faster.  About a minute later, as
her body started to shake, she squeaked out, "Now."
I grabbed her hand and jerked it from between her legs.  She gasped,
shaking against my grip, and her thighs tried to slam shut against my
chest.  She squirmed in front of me, face contorted in frustration.
"Did you come?"
She fought the shaking of her body to answer me.
"No.  It hurts."
I pushed her flat on her back and bent to lick at her.  She half-gasped
and half-squeaked, gripping the edge of the table tightly.  I stuck my
tongue into her, tasting her sweet fluids, then began pummeling her clit
with my tongue.  Another quiet cry burst from her lungs, and she
thrashed in orgasm under me.  I kept it up until the tremors subsided a
few seconds later.
I let her rest for a few moments, then stood up.
"Time to go.  Get up."
She struggled to her feet and followed me back to the car.  We drove
home in silence.
When we got back, I led her into the bedroom.  I could see the nervous
anticipation in her eyes, but I was about to surprise her again.
"You can get dressed."
She looked up in confusion, not moving toward her clothes.
"You thought we were going to fuck?"
She nodded weakly.
"We're a long way from that.  You haven't earned it yet.  Get dressed."
She did, quickly and quietly.  When she was done, I took her in my arms
and caressed her gently.  I sat on the edge of the bed, and she climbed
into my lap.
"You surprised me tonight."
"I did?"
"I didn't think you would be able to do all that.  I didn't think you
had it in you.  I half-expected this to simply be a way to get rid of
you."
She didn't answer me right away.
"Do you want to be rid of me?"
"No.  Not anymore.  You have potential now, I think."
She gulped.
"To be a slut."
"Yes."
She shivered in my arms.
"Go home.  Come back tomorrow."
---
-To be continued.-
---
Amber: The Making of a Fuck Toy
Copyright 2000 by Richard Bissell
Free redistribution permitted; no commercial use without authorization.
-- 
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: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
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