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Message-ID: <34367asstr$1009728604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: thedisciplen@yahoo.com (DiscipleN)
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
NNTP-Posting-Date: 30 Dec 2001 06:56:24 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Sammy and Moll (Mind Control, pedo, no-sex)
Date: Sun, 30 Dec 2001 11:10:04 -0500
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

The following is a work of FICTION.

   Sammy and Moll by DiscipleN

   Copyright (c) 2001, by DiscipleN.  All rights reserved.  This work may
not be used for any commercial purposes without prior, documented consent
from the owner.

   ------------

   --> Dear Storyteller, just wanted to let you know how much my husband,
Sammy and I enjoyed your story.  It got us both so aroused that (I blush)
we both masturbated as we read it.  Loved the spanking scenes as we both
enjoy this too.  I baby sit for my sister for her n-year old son and have
had the pleasure of seeing the boy masturbate while reading my husbands
mags (looking at the pictures actually).  He and I have talked about sex a
few times recently and it got my fantasies going.  My husband loves hearing
about it.  Thanks again for the lovely story, keep up the good work.  -Moll



   "There, that ought to hook the bastard!" Agent Madeline Fallew pressed
the Send button on her 'brown wrapper' email account.

   Her partner in police work finished the last lines of her email.  "Good
work Maddie." Richard Handel nodded.  "You used just the right tone of
confession and distance.  Mimicking the writer's own style of prose was
subtle genius."

   "Glad you thought so Rick, but your suggestion to mention the spanking
part is the real hook.  The sick fuck will think we actually read it."

   "This job gets easier with every new pry bar.  The agency's super
computers are terrific!  Every day, they can parse through millions of
stories, from all the sick and perverted web sites in the world, and rate
them on their child porn content." Agent Handel grinned victoriously.

   "This is American law enforcement at it's best.  Imagine what we'd be
like if WE had to read this shit eight hours a-day." Madeline released the
mouse and relaxed in her swivel chair.

   Richard patted the back of his co-worker's hand where she rested it on
their common work surface.  "Before the computers were implemented we
occasionally lost agents to Arousal Cycle Reconditioning.  After a while,
they needed porn to keep them from preying on innocents.  The psych boys
claim everyone of them will cease to be a threat with therapy, but they'll
have to take erection suppressants for the rest of their lives.

   "Except for poor Jones.  She was actually caught fucking her son-in-law
before the internal monitoring department realized she had crossed over."

   Agent Handle slowly shook his head.  "It's a hell of a mess what other
inmates do to child molesters.  I heard the prison keeps her in solitary
for her own protection."



   He gripped lightly Agent Fallew's shoulder and gave her a reassuring
smile.  Was that a slight blush in her cheeks?

   It's too bad we're both married, he thought briefly.  It was an idle
thought, no more.  Agent Handel truthfully loved his wife and never cheated
on her.

   They were summoned by a splash from Madeline's computer.  She had
replaced the new mail notice with one she considered more appropriate.

   "Well, lookie here.  Storyteller seems to have something piercing his or
her cheek." Richard indicated the sender field on his teammates' monitor.



   "Three minutes, I think that takes the record." Madeline noted the clock
on her task bar and pressed the Read button.

   --> Dear Moll and Sammy, I would be delighted to hear more of this
situation you describe, but please be aware that the internet is no longer
safe from police scrutiny.  You must not send any description of age or
relationship that could trigger unwanted attention.  Let us instead use the
very conservative number 22 and you and your husband will be visiting a
little known park to meet with this 'man'.  If I do not hear from you
again, I will assume I have frightened you away, which might be for the
best.  -Storyteller

   "Damn." She exhaled loudly.  Agent Fallew had been holding her breath.

   "Well, its as sick as the computer profile projected, but we'll have to
reel this one in very carefully.

   Madeline nodded.  In only the last two years, the totally incompetent,
internet sicko's were getting harder to find.  She hoped that this meant
the majority of child molesters had already been nabbed.  Of America's 250
million people, it amounted to less than a thousand convictions a year at
their peak.

   "To our advantage, he doesn't suspect he's already fingered." Madeline
mused.

   "Good point, but we'll need to study our target.  Let's download the
pervert's entire collection and read it.  Our computers can only flag
glaring clues, like illegal ages, drugs, and violent acts or threats.  The
psychological profilers will prepare their report, but we can't let this
one escape from a simple, technical mistake.  I sense this one's going to
be a real slippery fish." Agent Handel wrung his hands smoothly.

   "I'll ask legal to find a judge willing to okay locating the
Storyteller's home.  We'll know the bastard's real name by tomorrow." The
female agent launched their inter-office forms application.  "You know, I'd
really, rather not read any of that crap."

   "Not to worry, it took years of continuous reading to affect the poor
souls who used to do this job."

   ------

   The two agents began their preparations, working late into the night. 
The hunt was commenced and every tool needed to be sharp.  They met their
first two disappointments before noon the next day.

   "It doesn't make any sense." Agent Fallew regarded a printout.

   "Hmm?" Richard looked up from his own report.

   "Legal found multiple access points for this character, mostly internet
cafes and rogue, wireless network routers."

   "That is something.  The target is likely paranoid and computer
literate. Funny, this psych report, here, doesn't mention it."

   "What doesn't make sense is the access points are all over the world."

   "Huh?  Let me see that."

   Madeline grimaced slightly at 'men and their need to see everything for
themselves'.  She handed the printout to her co-worker.

   Agent Handel studied it for several minutes.  "This must be a mistake.
Ah, he's probably working through one of the encrypted, virtual networks.
Some will export to the regular web from random connect points."

   "Those poisonous hackers, why won't they just give up?" Agent Fallew
fumed.  "Potential sex offenders and terrorists have the highest
investigative priority.  We'll always be funded well enough break through
these idealistic programmers' defenses."

   "The obvious solution is search for all the public, virtual networks and
identify the ones with random export location.  Might as well get started.
I've got to discuss this report with the psych department, talk about
things not making sense.  See you this afternoon."

   Madeline grinned.  "I wouldn't worry too much about the psych report. 
They're always a work in progress.  Every new bit of evidence changes them
180 degrees.  What we have to worry about is not tipping our hand.  We
can't wait too long before responding to the target's last email,
especially if she or he is paranoid."

   "Right." Richard nodded.

   Their response was sent to the target before nightfall.

   --> Dear Storyteller, I spoke with Sammy this morning, and we came to an
agreement.  We think its pretty exciting to tell you about our adventures,
especially in secret.  Maybe you'll make this of one of your stories. 
Anyway, we started looking for your other works.  I read your one about
that priest who taught 'special' ed to choir boys late at night.  I think I
cummed as hard as I ever have reading that one.  Thanks.  I'm deciding if I
shouldn't go the the park and read it aloud to a man I know who visits
there.  Sammy suggested it.  What do you think?  -Moll

   Once again, within minutes, an answer appeared at Madeline's in box.

   --> Dear Moll and Sammy, I think you both should go to the park.  While
Sammy reads the story to your 22 year old friend, Moll might make herself
available to be played with.  I would love to hear if this idea turns you
on.  -Storyteller

   Agent Fallew's disgust scrunched her face as Richard read the email.

   "It's not enough to convict the shithead", He commented, "but it's a
start."

   "The sooner the better.  I nearly threw up reading about those poor
choir boys.  They were orgasming in pools of their own blood! 
Eeeewwwwhhhhh!!!" Madeline shivered and looked up for reassurance.

   He offered, "What if I read all the stories?  I could give you the info
you need to compose our future emails." Agent Handel took her shoulders and
massaged them briefly.

   "I'm tempted, Rick, but I wouldn't be your partner if I didn't haul my
share of the shit work."

   "This creep writes a variety of themes.  The one I read was about a
married couple exploring sex toys.  A newspaper might have printed it."

   Agent Fallew thought for a moment.  "Hey, how's this for a solution?  We
let the computer rate this idiot's stories, and I'll read the less violent
ones."

   "Good plan.  I'll talk it over with the nerds in investigative
computing."

   "Good luck.  Oh, and by the way, Do you have the revised psych profile?
I'll need it by tomorrow afternoon for my next email."

   "Sure thing, but it still reads like a jigsaw puzzle filled in with
pieces from different puzzles." Looking down into Madeline's beautiful
hair, Richard shook his head in secret.  He left the room soon after.

   ------

   --> Dear Storyteller, It's hard to tell you what a blast Sammy and I had
last night.  No, really!  I'm not sure how to word this.  While Sammy read
your story aloud, I was groped in the most delicious places.  My friend at
the park was very curious about lots of things.  First he looked at my
breasts which I exposed casually.  (I never wear a bra.) Then he touched
them, mostly because he watched me touching my aroused nipples.  When he
discovered my other hand was moving behind my waistband, he was even bold
enough to stick his hand up my dress!  I'm still breathless from the
memory. I can hardly wait for our next visit.  Your story about special
toys has given me some interesting ideas.  Do you think 22 is too young to
be given one?  -Moll

   ------

   Dear Sammy and Moll, No, please do!  If they weren't so expensive, I'd
say give him one of each.  Be sure to at least present him with a butt
plug. 22 year old's need to learn about anal pleasure, and don't hesitate
to use lots of lube and plenty of force.  Threaten to spank him if he acts
up, all right?  -Storyteller

   "How long did you have to wait for a reply this time?" Richard asked
Madeline.

   "Actually, it was about an hour."

   "That's still pretty quick, on average.  This person is always connected
to the internet."

   "The psych profile is fairly confident that the target has trouble in
real-life interactions." Madeline hoped that they might be zeroing in,
finally, after nearly a week of research.

   Agent Handel relaxed at her upbeat tone.  "Any luck with the encrypted,
virtual networks?"

   "Yes.  Only two of them export randomly to the regular web, both in
beta. For all their noise, the hacker community is a terribly inefficient
lot."

   "I mentioned it to investigative computing.  They said they should be
able to infiltrate the virtual network by using portions of its own code.
They're going to try attaching riders to the encrypted data packets by
spreading a virus to every node." Richard recited from memory.  "I think
what they meant was, we can't read the data, but we can track it."

   Madeline knew the routine.  She completed it for Richard.  "If we can
track it, we can analyze it statistically and find correlations to regular
traffic."

   "Yep, every time this jerk posts a story or answers your email, we'll
step closer and closer, until we find the source of his packets and knock
on his door." Agent Handel filled the room with his pride.

   Madeline felt herself strongly affected and curiously drawn to it.  She
shook it off easily.  Her husband was taking her out to dinner that
evening, and then they would check into a classy hotel for the night.  She
had become more passionate of late with her husband.  He hadn't minded one
bit.

   "If our data tracking fails, I think there's a good chance we can lure
the target to come to us." She voiced her own hope.  More than one molester
had been caught by faking a meeting with an undercover victim.

   "Then may the best investigator nab him or her first." Richard winked in
mock competition.

   -----

   --> Dear Storyteller, I wish I could have emailed you earlier, but aside
from the regular world's hecticness, it took Sammy and I a long time to
decide on what gift to bring with us to the park next time.  (We took your
advice.) Also the park isn't always available, and we haven't been able to
visit it nearly as much as we like.  But before I bore you, let me say that
we did meet our friend yesterday, and it was more fun than I imagined.  For
a 22 year old, he was very naughty.  We had to spank him several times, but
we made sure not to leave any tell-tale marks.  The best part was when I
distracted him by lifting my skirt, for yesterday I didn't wear my white
cotton panties, and he was really interested in all the smells and tastes
and textures.  I must have cum three times while he fondled me.  And all
this time, Sammy was lightly touching our friend's cute little butthole
with lube, on the pretext of soothing the spanking.  I know Sammy wanted to
jerk off right then, but I've told my husband he must wait until he gets
home before he is allowed to cum.  When he finally screwed the plug in, I
swear he almost came without touching himself.  What should we do next? 
-Moll

   Madeline reviewed her work with a professional eye.  Once satisfied, she
hesitated over it further, reading it slowly to herself.  She felt flush
with a strange pride.  I'll nail this bastard on the head with this one. 
If Storyteller doesn't offer to assist in person after this I'll chuck my
literature and psychology degrees into the toilet, she swore.

   -----

   --> Dear Moll, you certainly seem to be the one in charge in your
household.  I was thrilled that you keep your husband's orgasms on a leash.
I had great fun listening to your latest adventure, but I should remind you
about using diminutive descriptions.  Please avoid words like cute and
little.  I would have liked to have been there.  I haven't been idle,
either!  Your emails excite me so much I had to write a story just for you.
Here it is.  -Storyteller

   Madeline began reading the appended text without reservation.  It was
quite long and began innocently enough.

   Richard found her still at the display after normal quitting hours.  "Hi
Maddie, working on another masterpiece of bait?" He reached for the coat
that lay on his chair.

   "Uh," Agent Fallew looked up somewhat disoriented.  "No, just lost in
thought.  I think you should write the next one."

   "Me?  I don't know a participle from a parenthesis." He chuckled.

   "Doesn't matter.  You have to write it from Sammy's point of view. 
Maybe his grammar's worse than yours."

   "Why, what has Sammy been doing that he needs to tell our pervert
personally."

   "Nothing.  It's what he hasn't done..."

   -----

   --> Storyteller, you really messed things up for me!  This is Sammy. 
Ever since we read your stories, I've been getting the short shift from
Moll.  That guy from the park has moved into our home, well the bedroom,
and I've been locked out.  Right now Moll is up there doing only you know
what.  Your last story convinced her that you are the only one who can
actualize her deepest fantasies.  Somehow, you bastard, you looked into her
heart and found all of the foul, disgusting secrets that were hiding there!
She wants you to keep telling her how to enjoy her visits with that 22 year
old dipshit.  She won't even let me masturbate in my own home.  I have to
do it in the dog house.  Eventually our Doberman pincher is going to get
wise and kick me out.  I HATE YOU!

   "Crap, I didn't know I was capable of such depravity." Agent Handel had
felt soiled as he typed out the email.  His voice oozed with self-disgust.

   "You've been reading too much of this guy's porn." Agent Fallew spoke
evenly.  "I think you should take a break."

   "Maybe so, but the cyber-crew doesn't have enough data for a location
match.  We could spend another month soliciting this scum.  My wife's been
hinting about the victims of long hours."

   "Take your wife somewhere special.  Show her a good time.  Fuck her
brains out." Madeline looked serious.

   "Excuse me?" Richard said, stunned.

   "You heard me.  Now get out of here.  It's late, and she needs you."

   "I don't appreciate your remark." Agent Handel stood up with his coat.

   "Yeah, well I've got a lot of work to do and it's late.  I'm tired and
cranky."

   Richard sustained his incredulity but decided to shelve the issue for
later.  It had been a long month's work baiting their target.  Madeline
probably wanted to take her own break once she wrapped up loose ends. 
"Sure Maddie, I'll see you in a few days.  Get your rest."

   "My name is Madeline.  Good night."

   Richard left the room.

   --> Dear Storyteller, Thank you, thank you!  I'm finally rid of that
pig. Do you imagine the joy I feel, here in the park of my bedroom?  My
friend awaits at the pillow, and I am eager to explore.  Help me.  Join me.
Let us discuss at least the possibility of you telling one of your stories
as I take this virgin cock deep inside my body, unlocking every rapture. 
-Moll

   ----

   Richard returned after a four day break over the weekend.  The breath in
his lungs was fresh and light.  He sauntered into his and Agent Fallew's
office with hardly a care.



   In the dark office, Madeline's computer glowed a white-blue frame
surrounding a large post-it note.  He pulled it off with a simple tug.

   Agent Handel, meet me at Fairfield Park, picnic table thirteen, and
hurry.  I'll be waiting there.  I think we got us a child molester.

   Richard's grin leapt from ear to ear.  He was ready to spin on his heels
and blow, when the computer splashed.

   --> Fool, sit in your dog house and pull on your tiny cock!  May the dog
lick it until you cum up its throat.  I wrote a little story, special for
your cuckold ass.  Read it, weep, and spit your impotent sperm into a
beast. -Storyteller

   Agent Handel was delayed by half an hour, leaving their headquarters for
the municipal park.

   Madeline waited.  Her hand cuffs dangled in readiness.  "On your knees,
fool!"

   Richard stumbled at her words.  He dropped into the sand.  A story
tailored to his weakness played in his head, over and over.  Another story,
quite its opposite played in Madeline's.  His promised freedom, hers power.

   From behind a hedge, there emerged a naked boy.  His cock directed him
to the newly fallen angels.

   "A story told me you would be my new mommy and my new daddy.  The
storyteller said we would live happily forever after."

   END

   ------------------------------------------ Note from the author:

   I have no idea why the original email was sent to me.  Was it more than
food for thought from the wide weird web? ...as if pedophiles are desperate
to contact unknown porn writers!!  So I wondered, if a story has the power
to corrupt sheep, shouldn't they also corrupt the shepherds?

   DN 

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