Message-ID: <37716asstr$1028643002@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <newsmaster@cox.net> X-Original-Path: 53ab2750!not-for-mail From: HammonWry@yahoo.com (Hammon Wry) X-Original-Message-ID: <3d51a57f.122541585@news.east.cox.net> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 06 Aug 2002 07:14:42 EDT X-MailScanner: Passed X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 06 Aug 2002 11:14:42 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Catharsis (MF Dom/Humil Vag Fist Anal Safe) Date: Tue, 6 Aug 2002 10:10:03 -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/Year2002/37716> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, newsman Notice: The following is a work of erotica, and is meant for those of legal age and inclination in their jurisdicions. If you are not of age, or if this is illegal where you are, please do not read any further. (C) E. Howe 2002 All rights reserved Author's note: Once again, Totten and Dr. Carter. Yeah, yeah, I know, I need to develop more characters...let me get used to writing erotica with these two, first. Back story: for more insight on why Totten is so tense, you may want to read the following 3 story segments. They begin here: http://members.cox.net/ehowe/lc1.html For those of us who prefer to skip directly to the good parts (you can tell those folks by the dog-ears in their books) here it is: Catharsis She wanted a cigarette. She wanted to draw in the foul smoke, let it curl around the inside of her lungs, expanding them out in a reverse embrace. She wanted the acrid burn, anything to counter this rage, this heat. She hadn't enjoyed the sex. She hadn't climaxed. She wanted more. But she sat upright, hugging her knees and rocking slightly, as John removed the used condom, and turned back to her. He had not come, either. He tried to touch her, but she flinched. Hand in mid-air, he stopped. She looked askance at him, and then fixed her eyes on the wall, and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm still jumpy from meeting Antony Scapaldi earlier." He made contact, and brushed her hair away from her face. She flinched again. He ran his hand over her shoulder, gauging her tension. She was as hard as a rock, a violin string too tightly tuned. She twisted from his hand without thinking. She tried to breathe slowly, but it wasn't working. "You need to fight." She looked at him sharply. He'd seen that look before. The hunter in him had seen it on the face of a devilbunny, cornered, but not ready to give up. It knew it was going to die, but wanted to fight its way out--out of the corner, or out of this life. It didn't matter. It had wanted to fight. She said nothing. She stared at him, eyes haunted, face a mask. She stared at him. "You need to fight me." She jerked her gaze away from him, hugged her knees and hid her face on her arms. She was shaking. She knew he was right. She didn't want to fight. She did. He moved in front of her. She refused to look at him. He took her wrists, and grasping them, pulling them from around her knees, spread her arms wide. She looked up at his face, and he looked at her. "Fight me, Wench. Come on. Fight me. You know you need to. You know it will make you come so hard you will scream, don't you?" She ached. He was right. The son of a bitch was right. Anger flared. Snarling, she twisted her wrists out of his grasp, and shoved at him. He caught her wrists again, and laughed. "You call that fight? I've had better from tiny kits. Fight me, Wench. Come on, fight me." He leared at her. "Or should I have you suck me till I get hard again, and lay you back gently and do you like a fragile lady? You could close your eyes and think of England and your babies." She snarled her distaste. He grinned. "You need to dig your heels into the back of my legs, draw claw marks down my back, don't you? You need to try to scramble away from me on all fours, know that I am going to catch you and bring you backwards to me, hold you still while I fuck you from behind. You need me to pull your head back by that hair of yours, Wench, the other arm around your waist, and me behind and over you, mounting you like a mare, biting your back and shoulders." His voice cut into her, drawing pictures on the inside of her eyelids. He held her wrists together in front of her face. She panted. "Be glad it's me, and not Antony Scapaldi, Wench." She snapped. She roared. She broke free again with a ferocity that delighted him. Oh, yes, she would fight. He was glad he would be along for the ride. He leered at her, taunting her. "What, I touched a nerve, Wench? Perhaps I should place a call, and offer you to him? Nice little insult to the bunny lover, offer you to him after I have you myself? She lunged at him, and he side-stepped. He laughed at her effort. "Better, yes, a bit better, Wench. You are at least showing some determination. Now, show me more. Because I intend to take you and fuck you whether you want me to or not. If you don't put up a fight, I will call Antony." He made a grab at her, catching her deftly. She curled into the fetal position around his arm encircling her waist. He struggled to get it free. He grasped her hair, and began pulling. She tightened her neck muscles, and his hand slipped down the length of the hank without moving her head back. He noted that as his hand came away, it was partially filled with her hair. He shook his hand free of the red strands, and then maneuvered her ass free, and slapped it, hard, his mouth set in a hard snarl. "Stubborn Wench". *Slap!* She jerked, and he reached around front, and shoving, pushed her legs down, releasing his arm. She shot away from him, and he went after her. Her breasts and ass bounced with the effort. She left the room, naked, and ran down the hall and the stairs. He followed. He cornered her in the exam room. She was panting, and the table was between them. Her breasts heaved. Her hair, wild from earlier release, was a mess around her face and shoulders. 'Maybe you *should* call him, John. He's probably got more stamina than you." It was his turn to become enraged. He leapt for her across the table. He missed. She laughed as she slipped by him, and he snaked an arm around her waist, picked her up and drew her back into the exam room. She struggled, kicking. This time he grabbed her hair closer to her head, a goodly fist full, and brought her head back, holding her from behind. She moaned. He was hard again. It was all he could do to restrain himself from entering her right there. He had no condoms. He roared. He snaked his hand down her belly to her groin, located her clit, and pinched it. She struggled again, squirming away from his hand. He bit her shoulder, and she pressed back against his erection, rubbing and teasing it with her ass. He pressed her down over the end of the exam table, her hair still in his fist. She lay face down. Her ass still showed the hand print, and it was up and open wide, her cunt wet and fully visible. He groaned. Damn. He wanted to fist her. He wanted to fuck her ass with his cock, and her cunt with his hand at the same time, but he couldn't without lube at the very least. She knew it too, and she mocked him. "You wouldn't dare. You wouldn't dare." He slapped her ass hard. She jerked, and cried out. He caught her hands, and pulled them over her head. He looked around for something, anything, to tie her with. Failing, he marched her back to his room, her arm twisted up behind her and on tip-toe. He moved her to the end of the bed and stood behind her. He reached around to her front, and grasped a nipple. He pinched it. She shuddered, and moaned, leaned back against him. He pushed her away. "Too easy, Wench. You losing your fight? You'd take him now if I called, wouldn't you? Let him mount you? Huh?" She stiffened. She pulled forward, away, and he let her slip from his grasp. He laughed. Again she ran from him, to the far side of the bed, and he was over it in a shot. But she surprised him by standing her ground, and he found himself captured by a fist full of his hair. She drew his head back. Her face moved down in front of his, and filled his vision. Her eyes were hard, and the curve of her mouth reminded him of a scimitar. Those lips parted, and he heard her say softly "Once again, John, perhaps you *should* call him. I doubt he'd fuck around. He would mount me, at least, instead of these games. Maybe I should tie you up, and call him myself, and make you watch while I take him into me? Hmm? Bet that would make you furious at first, watching me spread my legs for him, wriggling beneath him, opening my cunt for him? But knowing you, Doctor, you'd enjoy it eventually. Hell, you'd probably like to mount me between the two of you, you in my ass, him in my cunt. That way you could fuck us both, right? Wouldn't you?" He licked his lips, and said nothing. She was right. He nodded, once. Holding his head back, and with a savage snarl, she slapped his ass several times in a row. Each one was white hot, blistering, and he could feel it all the way through to his balls. He bounced, and then-- She let him go. His balls ached, his ass stung and burned. His cock was painfully erect, and he rolled over to release it from beneath his body. He arched and moaned. She watched him from the side of the bed. "Too easy, doc. You losing *your* fight? Because I *would* take him now if he were here, use him up like a tissue and then crumple him and toss him aside." The doctor listened, and smiled on his back on the bed. "But he's not here, Wench, I am. You want to try that with me?" He was up and after her again, and when he caught her this time, she screamed and kicked, but was held firmly by both wrists behind her. He went to his closet, and withdrew a necktie, and used it to tie her wrists together, and then forced her face down on the bed. Her face was a mask of rage. Then he reached into the night stand, withdrew two gloves, a condom, and the bottle of lube. He put both gloves on the same hand one on top of the other, the condom, and as he spread lube over his hand, told her to get her knees beneath her. She refused with a snarled "No! Make me!" He did so by putting his bare hand beneath her hips, and heaving upwards, and then drawing her backwards and onto her knees in front of his erection. Her cunt was swollen, red, wet. She smelled of sex from the start of the evening, and it filled his brain. His cock jerked, and with his lubed hand, he captured it, pinching the crown, stopping from coming too soon. Wisely, if she noticed, she said nothing. Gaining control of himself, he took the bottle of lube again, and this time squeezed it onto her anus. He knew it had to be cold, and she gasped as it trickled down. He caught it with a single finger before it reached her cunt. He brought it up to her anus, rubbed it gently in a circular motion, and while doing so put the bottle of lube on the bed beside them. He reached for her hair. "You know what I am going to do. I am going to do it whether you want it or not. So you might as well bear down, and save yourself some tearing, yes?" He forced her head into a nod. He could feel her fright, and so took a little longer to tease her ass. He circled it, watched it contract, then deftly slipped one finger in. She didn't even have to bear down. She was wide open to receive him. He smiled. "Good girl, Wench. Remember your exam?" She nodded of her own accord this time. "Remember my fingers in your cunt and your ass?" Again, she nodded, and her eyes closed. Her lips parted, panting. Her ass contracted around his finger. He moved in closer and then slipped his thumb into her cunt. She sighed, and thrust back against his hand. He could feel her cunt sucking at his finger. She was ready. He toyed with her a bit, played with her clit from beneath, and she shuddered, close to orgasm. He stopped. He removed his fingers, and watched her. She arched back, trying to find them again, but he slapped her ass instead. His hand print burned bright red. She moaned, and raised up, showing her cunt spasming. He smiled. He removed the first glove, and tossed it away, not caring where it landed. He added more lube to his cock and to her ass, then to the second glove. Pressing her into position, he moved behind her, and placed the tip of his dick at her anus. She stiffened, fearful. He reached beneath her again, and played with her clit, and then said "Bear down when I stop." She nodded. He stopped, felt her ass open, and thrust in. He smiled. "Good girl." He held still for a moment. She did too. Then he released her hands from behind her back. Slowly, she pressed her shoulders up with her aching arms. He stopped her with his bare hand pressed on her back, keeping her hips and pelvis at the right angle for what he wanted to do next. Reaching beneath his own cock and balls, he found the opening to her cunt. He tugged at it with two fingers, downward toward her clit and the mattress. She gaped open. He slid four fingers in, palm up. She moaned, and again, thrust back against him. He could feel his cock filling her ass. Thrusting gently, he rubbed the length of his cock, as much as he could. He began to thrust into her ass. She moaned. She contracted around his hand, and around his cock. She screamed her orgasm. He could feel her wetness gushing past his fingers and down his wrist. It dripped to the sheets below. He'd heard of it, and discounted it as a myth. But he could not deny it now. She had ejaculated. Oddly, the doctor in him wished he could collect a sample for analysis. He chuckled. "I hope you realize that you will be sleeping in the wet spot tonight, Wench." She lay down on her breasts, ass still full of his cock, cunt still full of his fingers. He reached around again, and toyed with her clit. She reacted violently, shuddering another orgasm, this one less wet. He thrust into her again, pounding in time to the contractions, and soon joined her in orgasm. He withdrew carefully, holding the top of the prophylactic to ensure that it was intact. Then, he told her to bear down, to press his hand out from between her legs. She did so, and his gloved hand slid out, and he stretched it. Amazing how strong those muscles are, he thought. She lay down on her side, her back to the doc, knees up. Her ass was a long curve, the pudendum peaking from between the backs of her thighs. He smiled. He drew off the condom, and then glove, being sure to catch the condom inside the glove as he turned it inside out. This time he aimed for the waste basket. He lay down behind her, and tucked her body into the curve of his, after pulling the covers over the two of them. She stretched her legs out and down, and he followed suit, a sow tandem motion that pulled sore muscles and relived the last pockets of stress in both of them. Doc rolled on his back, and the Wench turned toward him. She slid along his length, and fitted herself beneath his arm and against his ribs. -- 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> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+