Message-ID: <25262asstr$963529809@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: Steven Bockman <S_Bockman@hotmail.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <8kkrce$lgb$1@nnrp1.deja.com> X-Article-Creation-Date: Thu Jul 13 16:39:45 2000 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Satan's Sex Slave Ch. 3 {1/6} (mast, MMf, anal, yng, nc, inc, ff) Date: Thu, 13 Jul 2000 19:10:09 -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/Year2000/25262> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, IceAltar WARNING: Explicit sexual material below; do not read if it's illegal for you to view adult content where you live. The following is a work of fiction; any similarities between actual persons and/or events is entirely coincidental. And finally, the author does not condone the acts portrayed in this story. As a work of fantasy, it may be interesting to read, but if he were to find it in a newspaper he would be sickened and appalled. ** Author's Note: Full permission is granted for this story to be distributed, as long as the text is unmodified, the above warning remains, and my e-mail address (S_Bockman@Hotmail.com) appears somewhere in the document. ** visit my site at: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/The_Lazy_Cup/www for more stories! ** Satan's Sex Slave the third tale from the lazy cup by S. Bockman Chapter Three: Daddy's Dick (Part 1/6) (masturbation, MMf, ff, anal, incest, non-consensual) Jodie slept easily through the night and awoke feeling better than she could ever remember. Looking over at her clock she saw it was almost nine-thirty. She remembered suddenly that it was Sunday, which meant church at St. Beckett's. This should be amusing, she grinned to herself. She stood naked from her bed, waking her Familiar in the process. She pet him roughly with her tiny hands behind his ears, and whispered to him, "You've got to stay out of sight while I'm gone. Stay in my room and be quiet." Obediently, the dog jumped off the bed and strode towards her closet. She followed him and opened it, and inside he went, where she knew he would stay without making any noise until her return. She rummaged through the closet for a minute looking for something to wear, and grinned evilly at the idea of dressing like a whore to a house of God. But that would cause too much friction with her mother. She wasn't ready for all that... yet. And so, after grabbing one of her typical church dresses, she went to the bathroom and showered. She decided, however, not to wear panties today, as a form of rebellion she could get away with. After showering she heard music coming from her sister's room, which meant she had just awoken. She glared menacingly at the door as she passed it, practically getting wet at the thought of all the other vile things she'd have done to the poor girl before all was said and done. At the breakfast table her mom and dad were reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. Jodie helped herself to a cup and took a seat with them. "Good morning!" she smiled. Her mom looked up at her. "Good morning, darling," she said. Looking over her outfit she said, "I'm glad you decided not to dress like a tramp to church, at least." Jodie kept her mouth shut, but stared evilly at her mother. "Your mother told me about that," her dad joined in, putting aside his paper. "We're going to have to have a talk if you decide to keep dressing that way. Is that understood?" She tried to keep from grinning. "Yes, Daddy!" she said. She got up and started making cereal, observing how relieved her parents seemed now. It occurred to her that her father was in control of this family-her mother always deferred to him. He'll have to be taken care of, too, she thought. ** "I'm supposed to be going to church," Julie explained in a dead tone. Franklin looked down at her. He'd been driving to the Cup where he'd planned on getting some coffee and reading the paper when he saw, sitting on the curb, the form of Julie Florence. She'd been hugging her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth, staring absently across the street. Her normally soft black hair was matted and greasy looking, like she hadn't showered, and her full lips were devoid of their normal red lipstick. Although he didn't know the Junior that well, he'd decided to stop and find out what she was doing. "Are you going to?" he asked. Her lips moved in response, but no sound came. Franklin decided she was probably strung out. He didn't know if she did drugs or not, but she was certainly acting like it. Sitting down next to her, he lit up a cigarette and observed the residential street they were on. It was a shortcut he usually took to the Cup from High Town. "He's on fire!" Franklin started. "Who's on fire?" he asked. She shook her head, then gazed over at him. "You're Franklin?" He nodded. She looked away again. "He came and saw me last night." "Who did?" Franklin asked, confused. "Joe!" she suddenly said, voice rising into downright panic. "It was Joe! He was on fire!" She threw herself into Franklin's arms, and he took her as she sobbed. So that was it, he thought. She'd been friends with Joe Pierce, one of the guys who'd died in the fire. He hadn't known that. "He was a friend of yours?" Franklin asked sympathetically. She pushed him away, apparently in anger, and stood. Her eyes were red and puffy with tears. "No!" she yelled. "He was... I mean, he liked Jodie, but I didn't like him!" Franklin stood slowly in surprise. "He liked Jodie?" he asked, deadpanned. Julie spun around and stared down the street. Her voice suddenly dropping to just above a whisper she said, "I gotta go to church..." "I know," Franklin said irritably. "But tell me first... what's this about Jodie?" Without looking back at him or moving from the spot she explained, "He liked her. They were supposed to go on a date that... that night. He cancelled." Her eyes suddenly went wide as she stared at him. "If she'd been there... oh!" Again she crumpled to the ground and began sobbing. The gears in Franklin's mind were churning now in full force. Something wasn't right here. "What do you mean he came to you?" he asked. No answer. Franklin kneeled next to her. "Julie?" he said soothingly. "Julie... why didn't you like Joe?" "He was a creep," she blubbered, "a weirdo. Fucking goth kid... oh! He's so mad at me now! I gotta go to church!" She jumped up and began half running, half stumbling down the street. He let her go. She'd obviously hallucinated the night before, probably from acid or shrooms or something. That would also explain her condition this morning. But what she'd said about Jodie made something in the back of his mind itch... It was an itch he'd had since the night before at the Lazy Cup, and he knew that if he could just scratch it, everything would make more sense. Getting back into his car he opted not to go to the Cup after all. He had to talk to the one person he knew might be able to help him. A Churchill graduate named Steve Feebs. ** Jodie sat through the service bored to tears and even a little uncomfortable. All the crosses, and Latin chants, and ceremony that went with a Catholic church was making her feel irritable. She needed a release of some sort. She thought about young Michelle, who looked oh- so darling in her light-pink Sunday dress, singing the hymns and reciting the prayers as if nothing had happened the night before. Jodie knew better. She also knew more would happen to the young girl tonight, and this made her feel better. But then she looked over at her dad. He would have to be taken care of now, too, or her life would be hell until she could get enough money together to move out. But what to do with him? When the service was over she got in line for confession as always. It felt incredibly erotic somehow to be standing in her light Sunday dress with no panties on. She could feel the stares of several men, not unusual given her looks, but what they didn't know was her pussy was closer than they might have supposed. Before she knew it she was standing in front of the velvet-draped oaken cubicle where confessions were given. She smiled, crossed herself sarcastically, and entered. The small area smelled like wood-polish and moth balls, and as she slid the heavy purple drapery into place she could feel the hard oak seat on her bare ass. It felt so good she decided to hike her dress up further-she pulled the hemline behind her up to her back, then wiggled happily on the bench. She could feel herself growing wet. With a creak the window between her and the priest slid open, revealing a metal grate of some sort which prevented her from seeing him, or from him seeing her. The light which came through the grate was her only illumination now. She felt comfortable in the darkness. "Good morning," came the priest's voice. It was a gruff, stern voice, and Jodie immediately recognized it as Father Rickle's, the church's rector. She smiled to herself. "Forgive me, Father, I've sinned," she said in a little-girl voice. "It's been... a week, I suppose, since last confession." "What are your sins, child?" the priest asked. "Well," Jodie began, "I've started smoking cigarettes, for one." "Go on," the Father replied. "And," she said, grinning to herself, "I got stoned yesterday. On pot." "Using drugs is a sin in God's eyes," Father Rickle responded evenly. Jodie suppressed a laugh. "Okay," she said. "But that's not all. You see, Father...," Jodie paused for dramatic effect. "I lost my virginity." "Sex before marriage," the priest responded, not missing a beat, "is also a sin in God's eyes. Tell me, why did you do it?" Damn it, Jodie thought. She was trying to shock the old man, but so far hadn't succeeded. After pausing a moment she continued, "Well, Father, it wasn't like you think. I didn't lose my cherry to a horny classmate or anything... I lost it to a dog." Silence across the confessional. Yes! Jodie thought. "A dog?" the priest asked slowly. "Yes, Father," Jodie sighed as if loathed to admit it. "You mean... literally? A canine?" Jodie was getting a kick out of this. She wished she could see the look on his face. Absentmindedly she began petting her neatly trimmed patch of red pubic hair as she continued, "Yes, Father, a dog. A big black Doberman pincher named Dante. Two nights ago he fucked me for the first time..." "You've had intercourse with this...animal... more than once?" the priest asked in shock. Jodie smiled. She was really getting off on this; she could feel herself growing more wet, and suddenly she began sliding her index finger up and down her slit. "Mm... yes, Father. He's fucked me twice now, most recently just last night. And it feels so good... how can I describe it?" There was silence. Jodie continued. "His long doggy-dick pushes into me slowly at first, but before too long I'm dripping wet and it's easy for him to get the rest of it inside me. Eventually it's too hard to support my weight on all fours-because that's how we do it, of course-- so I just drop my upper body down and rest on my big titties while he pummels me from behind... sometimes, Father, his claws dig into my sides so hard I bleed, but it's sooo worth it..." Jodie was speaking in a low and husky seductive voice now as she began masturbating herself. She couldn't imagine what could be going through the priest's mind-he surely heard the soft slurping sounds of her finger sliding in and out of her quim, her panting as she neared orgasm... "My child, you must not lie in a house of God," the priest said sternly. "It's... no lie, Father, it's...," Jodie mumbled, sighing. She hadn't masturbated yet since her pact with the devil, and it seemed fitting for it to take place in a church... it was also quite arousing! "It's what, my dear?" the priest asked. She ignored him. She was now rubbing her clit frantically, causing her body to squirm and nearly thrash around in the tight confines of the confessional booth. The bench she was sitting on was now slick with her juice, causing her body to slide around it back and forth... "Father, I---," she began as she began to climax, "I-don't-need--- your--- FORGIVENESS!" Suddenly she came. She let out a long, low breath to prevent from screaming, and simultaneously slammed her index finger all the way up inside her to finish the process. When she was done, she was smiling evilly as her body trembled in relief. "Father?" There was no response. She looked through the metal grate and saw his silhouette. He was still there. She sat back then, still smiling, smug now in the knowledge that she had made the Holy Father speechless. ** End of Chapter Three part 1 (of 6) ** For the rest of this story please visit my web-site at: www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/The_Lazy_Cup/www/ -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+