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Message-ID: <31875asstr$997110602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "John Smith" <pervitron@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} ASSM (RP) Neanderthal, by Pervitron {Mff,MM, interracial, voyeur}
Date: Mon,  6 Aug 2001 11:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "neander.txt" begin>

   WARNING: The following story contains graphic descrip-
   tions of a sexual nature. It is intended for mature
   persons only. Any persons not old enough to legally
   receive adult materials or who are offended by them
   should read no farther. Further distribution of this
   story--and all others of this nature by this author--is
   permissible only to appropriate persons and only if the
   contents and author credit are unchanged.

   NOTES:

   1. Copyright (c) August 1999.

   2. The persons and situations depicted in this story
   are entirely fictitious. Any similarities to actual
   persons or situations are completely unintentional and
   coincidental.

   3. Reader comments and feedback are always encouraged;
   send to Pervitron@Hotmail.com

   4. This story may be copied for free distribution,
   provided the author credit is retained.

   5.  This is a FANTASY.  I'm really a nice person; I'm
  nothing like the people I write about.


                     Neanderthal
                      by Pervitron

  The phone interrupted the Knicks-Bulls game.   "Reed has two
  visitors."  Shit, it was late in the third quarter, the game
  was close, and I'd miss the end of the game, taking care of
  Reed.   I made up my mind to get back at him later, run him
  up on some bullshit charges, get some of his yard time taken
  away.   Yeah, that's what I'd do.

  Prisons are made of metal and sweat.

  I banged my club on the bars. "Reed. Visitors." There was
  movement in the bottom bunk.   They were both there, Reed
  and his latest punk.   The last one was still in the
  hospital; this one was a little smarter, or maybe he was
  really just a pussy, because he did it without a beating.
  He had his mouth on Reed's cock; when he heard me he stopped
  moving, but kept it there. Not sure who he should be more
  scared of:  Reed, or me. A few days ago he was hot shit, a
  young white boy, the big man in community college because he
  had the fast car, the beeper, and a pocket full of white
  powder.  A real big man. The kid looked at me with dead
  eyes. He'd think of Reed every day for the rest of his life.

  Reed slid his thing out of his cellmate's mouth, and he
  climbed up off the bunk.  He stood in front of me, leaving
  it hanging for a moment while he pulled his pants up.  He
  took his time, like he was showing it off - and who could
  blame him?  The rest of him was just as impressive, he was a
  polished black mountain of a man, almost 6'8".   Almost all
  the men who pumped iron got bigger, their muscles grew so
  big it was grotesque. The weight room was like a freak show.
   But Reed didn't get any bigger - he just got harder. I had
  seen him in the shower, he was built like a black steed, a
  frightening combination of strength and quickness.

  He followed the drill. When he got his clothes back together
  he stood flush against the back wall of the cell while I
  opened the door. He waited for me to stand off to the side
  before he moved.  Reed just sauntered out of the cage, he
  turned in order to walk ahead of me down the corridor.
  There was another guard down there, in case there was
  trouble. I kept my distance; I had my hand on my club. I
  knew I was in no danger, but I still felt wary.   As he
  turned he looked at me, he straightened up slightly as if to
  showcase his height.  I held his eyes for just a second, I
  looked up at him, careful not to show any fear, even though
  I felt my heart race.   Christ!  Just the thought of a night
  in a locked cage with this guy gave me chills.

                           **

  The visiting room was a large square room with metal tables
  and chairs that amplified the noise.   Lots of screaming
  kids, and noisy, fevered talk.   It seemed like visitors
  tried to make the time pay by talking as quickly and they
  can.   There were two steel cage doors on opposite ends:
  one for visitors, and one for us.

  My mouth must have dropped clear to the floor when we got to
  the door. I looked and I could tell immediately which ones
  were there for him.  It wasn't at all unusual for Reed to
  have female visitors. He had quite a few, each of them would
  come with a litter of kids.  A baby in one arm, another in a
  rickety stroller, and always a couple of scrappy little
  brats - they'd scurry around the room like mice.  He must
  have had a dozen kids, you wondered if these women knew
  about each other.   Or cared. And there were other women
  that Reed didn't even know. They were what we call prison
  sluts, trashy girls who got off on visiting prisoners, they
  liked to flash their asses at dangerous men, keeping their
  pretty little stuff just out of reach.   And that was what
  we had today.

  But these girls were no more than fifteen!

  I was fuckin' amazed, first at how young they were, and then
  by the attitude.   I could tell that both of them went to
  the private school over on the nice side of town - they had
  that look about them.  You know, kids with money that think
  they're bad.   The boys tool around in brand new cars,
  gangsta rap shaking the windows around them.  Skid marks and
  the smell of burning rubber. And I guess this is what the
  girls do, they take daddy's credit card to the mall, and
  strut around like sluts.   They put out. And play with fire.

  One of them was dressed like a biker chick.  She was sitting
  backwards on the chair, her forearms were resting on the
  back of the chair that rose up between her legs.   She wore
  a baseball cap backwards, and one of her eyebrows was
  pierced with a half dozen tin rings.  She had fiery black
  eyes; She was wearing a Metallica tank top that hugged her
  chest tightly. She was dark, probably Spanish or Italian,
  her skin had the warm color of brown leather. This girl was
  a handful, no doubt, but for all her hardness she was
  definitely worth it - she had an almost frightening beauty.
  She had a great body.  Yeah, she could kick ass.  She wore
  purple spandex workout pants that ended just above her knee,
  and a pair of black, high-top sneakers completed the
  picture.   She must have had 5 pounds of cheap jewelry on, a
  mane of silver and tin necklaces hung loosely around her
  neck.   One for each blow job, no doubt.

  The other girl had the "nice girl gone bad" look.  She had
  her hair done like she was going to the prom; long blond
  hair with dark streaks, and she must have spent hours
  crimping it into a thousand tight curls that framed her
  face.   Her features were soft, with blue eyes the color of
  fine china, a tiny upturned nose, and soft lips that would
  dimple if she smiled.  Which she didn't.   No, she was
  scared - she really didn't want to do this. Biker girl ate
  this up.  She beamed at Reed when she saw him, but this
  other girl just froze at the sight of him. My guess was that
  Biker girl put her up to it - she was doing this on a dare.
  They probably stopped at the mall on the way over.   I could
  see Biker girl picking out the dress she was wearing, a
  tight red tube dress that hugged the thin curves of her
  torso. Yeah, I looked at them and figured there was some
  kind of dyke thing going on: Biker holding the dress up
  against her little princess.  "C'mon, you'll be hot."   The
  two of them back in the changing room, those thin corral
  doors, maybe some heavy breathing.  Well, Biker had good
  taste in boy toys - her friend had one fine body.   She was
  a shy one too, she sat there with her arms and legs crossed,
  but still, you noticed. Her waist was thin. The tube dress
  was so tight I could see her belly button. She had tiny
  little girl tits, and they were so firm, so round, like ripe
  apples. Just a whiff of her would give you a hardon. And
  somehow I knew, even though she was sitting, that her ass
  had to be absolutely perfect.  She looked that good.

  Reed liked what he saw. I left him standing in the doorway,
  and moved over against the side wall and stood there with
  two other guards. We talked among ourselves; we could see
  what was going down. We were also wondering which of us was
  screening visitors today, figuring he must have gotten some
  head for letting these two in.  No way they'd get in
  otherwise.

  Reed took it all in stride.  Mr. Cool: "My, what a pair of
  angels to brighten up my day!"  He dug this, people stopped
  what they were saying and looked over at him and his
  visitors. The girls moved their chair aside so Reed could
  sit between them, making room for the big man.  Read scraped
  a chair on the floor, he dragged it over between them and
  sat down.   Way down - the chair was too small for him, his
  knees were angled up, level with the girls' shoulders. He
  reached his long arms around their shoulders.  Biker
  snuggled right up to him, princess needed a little pull, but
  she came, she wouldn't fight.  Reed smiled at me, as if to
  say: "See, you may think I'm dirt, but your women, they love
  me."

  I stood there with the other guards.  We were all middle
  aged, a bit thick in the waist, and a roll in the hay from
  our wives was about all the excitement we got.   Every once
  in a while we'd get a blow job from a visitor, payment for
  some extra, "private" time in the side room next to us.
  But we got it as payment, we sure didn't have young girls
  serving it up the way Reed did.

  Biker girl had done this before.   She laid her head back on
  Reed's shoulder and started to rub her hand against his
  inner thigh. Even across the room I could see the effect it
  had on him. It didn't matter that he'd gotten head just ten
  minutes before, he was always ready for more.  Especially
  from a fine young thing like this. She was looking up at
  him, watching his reaction as she moved her hands onto his
  crotch.   He started talking to her, he said something to
  the dressy one too, as if to invite her in.  She smiled back
  at him, but I could see it was still forced. She was
  uncertain, and scared;  she kept looking around, checking to
  see if anyone was watching them. She was in over her head -
  she thought she'd would just kid around, just put on her
  shimmy dress just and tease a guy. Maybe a sort of lap
  dance, whatever that was. Yeah, it might even be fun.  She
  never thought it would go so far.

  But nothing would stop it.  The biker continued to rub Reed,
  and when she knew he was ready, she reached her hand down
  into his loose pants and pulled him free.  I had seen him
  before, so I knew how big he was, but the girls hadn't. No
  way they'd seen anyone hung like this. The Biker looked up
  at Reed with a leering smile, reaching for him at the same
  time.   The other one was slower to react:   she just stared
  at the thing, I could see her eyes dancing along the shaft.
  She wasn't looking around the room anymore - she was
  transfixed.

  I knew what he was like.   He was here for a reason. Every
  man in this room deserved to be here.   Reed was one of the
  worst, he had beaten three men to death;  a few weeks ago in
  the yard he almost got a fourth - it took three guards to
  subdue him, and the man he was kicking was still in
  traction. But as much as I hated him, there was quite a bit
  of envy. The way they looked at him, the mixture of fear and
  delight. Yes, I wish I was hung like that.

  The dark girl bent down and took him in her mouth. There was
  something so raw, so primitive in the sight of this young
  girl giving head.  I was right, this wasn't exactly her
  debut.  Yeah, she liked big men, and she knew the place to
  come to find them. The way she stretched her lips as wide as
  she could, opening wide to get as much as she could in her
  mouth. He wasn't even halfway in, but I could see the strain
  in her throat, the way she fought to control her gag reflex.
  Reed lifted his head and looked over at us.   It was a
  proud, defiant look.   See, you can put me in chains, but
  your women will still find me.

  The feeling in the room changed. It happened every time.
  One minute the crowd of visitors would be normal, each of
  the prisoners would be talking to his wife or his mom.  No,
  not talking, really just listening.   There'd be picture
  albums and school report cards; there would be stick figures
  drawn with crayons, and kids would climb all over their dads
  like they were climbing in a tree.  You'd think this was for
  the men, but after a few minutes they'd be all glassy eyed,
  checking the clock, bored really. And then it would start,
  some young mom would see the look on her man's face. She'd
  shoo the kids away.  A moment later she'd have her head down
  on his lap, moving slowly up and down, and daddy would feel
  like a man again.

  Once the first blow job started the whole tone of the room
  would change.   Conversations would continue, but they were
  forced now.  The wives and mothers continued to talk to men,
  as if THAT wasn't happening.  Everyone tried to ignore it,
  while shooting quick, furtive glances at what was happening.
  Grandmas would give a single look and then recoil slightly -
  they'd talk even more, as if they were protecting themselves
  with words.  And the kids noticed.   In fact that was they
  only thing that slowed the little boys down, they'd stop
  running around, the punching and the karate kicking would
  stop, and they'd scamper under the tables and watch.  I'd
  see the small eyes in the darkness under there. No matter
  how old a boy is, he knows what feels good.

  So this was nothing new.  The biker girl was getting into it
  now, she was licking her tongue all along him, from his
  balls all the way up to his crown, taking her time, drawing
  it out while she looked up and watched him smile.   There
  were two other blow jobs going on. In the far corner, JJ, an
  18 year old gangbanger had some coke whore down on her
  knees. She had to be about 45, and she was sickly thin,
  drugs had eaten her away inside, all that was left of her
  were bones and stretched, dry skin.  But she still had her
  lips, big wet lips that were made for this, they were soft
  enough, and slow enough to get all she really wanted from
  men. And there, right in front of us, not caring that there
  were three guards watching, was another couple.   We knew
  this one well: this was the one with no panties on under her
  dress, so when she really got going she could climb on his
  lap and slow fuck.

  Biker was still going at it.   An older white couple
  appeared at the visitor door, they scanned the room quickly,
  and they started walking towards the only table that was
  available:  the one next to Reed. The woman lead the way,
  she had angular, birdlike features and grey hair, and while
  she kept her eyes lowered, she walked upright, determined to
  keep her dignity.  Her husband shuffled behind her, with his
  hands in his pockets.  They were struck several times in
  transit by kids that smashed into their legs like billiard
  balls. They kept moving with their eyes down; this was a
  march through Purgatory. When they came to the table they
  pulled the chairs out, and sat down, doing this silently, as
  if they wanted to remain invisible. They sat and looked at
  each other.   Don't look around. But there was no ignoring
  what was happening.   You could close your eyes and smell
  it: the sex. The room was full of sweat and dry semen, like
  an all-male theater.  She saw what was happening, she looked
  quickly at Reed and his angels, and her eyes danced like
  they were on fire.   She looked away, she looked down at her
  hands, and she kept her eyes there, afraid of what else
  might be going on in the room.  Her husband saw it too -
  except that he looked a bit longer at first, and he kept
  looking back. Definitely some mixed feelings there.   Yeah,
  I knew who they were.   Their son was Reed's new punk.

  Reed was just about ready now.   He was back inside Biker's
  mouth, she had settled into the right rhythm, she could tell
  from his breath the type of lick that he liked. She was
  working him in and out with a slow, constant pace. Princess
  was all eyes.   Reed turned and looked at her, Princess
  looked up from his cock.   He took his hand off her
  shoulder, he brought it up to her face, and ran it though
  the blond curls of her hair.  He said something to her while
  he rubbed the light tips of his fingers on her face.  So
  gentle.  Jesus!  Suddenly I realized how hard I was, for all
  the open, raw sex that was happening all around me, the soft
  trace of his long, sensuous fingers on her cheek was the
  sexiest thing I had ever seen.

  Reed reached his hand down and pulled Biker off his cock.
  He was like a kid, sampling different candies.  Princess
  went down slow, there was no doubt in my mind that she had
  never given head before.  She hesitated, her mouth just an
  inch or so from the huge thing, it was slick and wet with
  saliva and cum.  I wasn't sure she'd do it, the thing looked
  almost evil, like a Cobra, and there was a slight look of
  revulsion on her face.  Biker leaned over and said
  something, she whispered in her girlfriend's ear.   Whatever
  it was, Princess opened her mouth, she opened it as wide as
  she could, and she went down on him.   I thought I'd burst
  in my pants, the voices in the room faded away from my
  awareness, so rapt was I at this mystery.

  Jesus!  He was in her like an oak tree, he reached his hand
  into her hair, and made her take even more.  He didn't have
  to push hard, after just a second of this, I could see she
  liked it.   The thrill of this intimacy with a man.   A real
  man.   She'd compare every other man in her life with Reed;
  this was a feeling she could never recapture. She had her
  mouth full, and she swiveled her eyes to look at Biker.
  See, I can do it.   Reed let his head rest back, he was
  going to let go now.  Biker noticed this, she whispered in
  Princess's ear, and she slowed a bit.  They were like
  divers, communicating with their eyes. Don't rush now.
  Slow.   He took a deep breath, I could see the surprise in
  her eyes, they clenched tight for a second.  And then his
  seed came running out the sides of her mouth, dripping onto
  his balls.

I was back now, they were done.  The voices in the room
  returned, I felt like I was surfacing from a deep ocean.
  JJ was still in the corner - he'd be there for at least an
  hour.  The older man and woman at the next table were still
  waiting for their son.  I looked at the other guards, but we
  said nothing.  We each had our own thoughts. I looked up in
  the corner, at the camera, thinking about the running tape.

                           **

  They walked out like a couple of hellraisers.  Biker and
  Princess stomped over to the exit like a couple of Vegas
  showgirls.   They could do anything they wanted; they knew
  we lived in a world without rules.   I walked over to Reed,
  he stood up from the table and looked at me.   That look
  again.

  He started back towards the other exit.   Just as he turned,
  his punk came through the door.   He saw Reed, mom, and dad
  at the same instant.  A frightful tableau that tore him wide
  open. His face started twitching.  "Hey, my main man!"  Reed
  boomed it out, he was grinning, his white eyes were gleeful,
  and he reached down and rubbed the kids hair playfully as he
  walked by.  The kid looked at his mom and dad.  Mom had
  never taken her eyes off her hands.


                        **

  My heart was racing wildly all the way back.   I was alone,
  there was no guard ahead of us now. He could turn on me and
  kill me.  With his size, just a few quick punches. He just
  walked ahead, back to the cage, swinging his big shoulders,
  rocking them from side to side in a sort of swagger.

  The cell door was open.   He entered and stood against the
  back wall.   The drill.   I looked down the corridor. I
  looked both ways and walked over to the cell door.   I could
  hear faraway voices, the shouts of cursing men echoing off
  the steel bars, but there was no one about.  I took a deep
  breath, I pulled the prison air into me, the smell of men,
  hard men, men too wild for my world outside.

  He knew I would do it.   Even before I went over and sat on
  the bunk, he had it out again.  Fuck!   What a cock Reed
  had! I loved the look of it, such animal power.  He came
  over to me, and I opened wide.   Yes, it was back, the
  hardness,  and that glorious odor.   I was hard myself, I
  knew my seed was leaking out of me as I did this.   He was
  all the way back in by throat, he had a shock of my hair in
  his big hand, and he was pulling slightly, letting me know
  he could hurt me, and this only added to my excitement.

  So I reached behind him, I loved to feel his ass, the
  tightness of it as he pushes into my mouth.   He does this
  for a few minutes, just fucking me, pushing any way he wants
  to, until he draws back and pulls his thing out. He holds it
  an inch in front of my face, he likes to watch as he dumps
  all over me.

                           **

  I can't help it. I've been doing this for years, and I'm not
  the only guard that does.   Even at night we think of them,
  when I fuck my wife I imagine I'm one of them.

  And she does too.  She never says it, but I see her looking
  at them, watching them.

  The coiled sexuality of these men is just too intense.
  Prison only buys us time, it makes it harder for women to
  get to them.   But they will win, men will someday all be
  black, we'll all be as strong, as virile as these men are.

  You can see it in every prizefight, and its only a matter of
  time before the universities and the professions show the
  same pattern.  Power flows from the balls - virility leads
  inevitably to hegemony, to dominance in all things.   This
  has happened before. There were epochs in the past when
  humanity changed, when there was more than one type of human
  living at the same time. Homo Sapiens Neanderthal, and Homo
  Sapiens Sapiens.

  And now we are the Neanderthal, we look with awe at the new
  ones, the Men who will one day rule over us.

  #######################################################
    I'd love to hear from you, no matter what you thought of
  my story. Comments and story ideas are welcome at:
  Pervitron@Hotmail.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Pervitron/www
  #######################################################


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