Message-ID: <39355asstr$1037653802@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-AntiAbuse: This header was added to track abuse, please include it with any abuse report X-AntiAbuse: ID = 948ab4c8608b1a0ba1fa7e3decf9f577 Reply-To: katzmarek@excite.com From: "don james" <katzmarek@excite.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Original-Message-ID: <20021118000516.DDDCE3DF4@xmxpita.excite.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 17 Nov 2002 19:05:16 -0500 (EST) Subject: {ASSM} Growing up in a Broken Land (mf, nosex) By Katzmarek Date: Mon, 18 Nov 2002 16:10:02 -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 X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2002/39355> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, newsman A short cameo of a child of the sixties/seventies. _______________________________________________ Join Excite! - http://www.excite.com The most personalized portal on the Web!<1st attachment, "Growing up in the Broken Land.doc" begin> Growing up in the Broken Land. This story is partly inspired by Jeff Zephyr's tales of growing up. It has been fictionalized and expanded. The reality was far less interesting. New Zealand consists of two and a bit islands laying in the South Pacific about 1500 miles from Australia. It sits astride two tectonic plates, the Indo-Australian and the Pacific, hence the land has been shaped as a result of seismic events and volcanism. The southern area of the North Island is bisected by 4 major fault lines, in fact a major fault runs clean through downtown Wellington, the Capital. North of Wellington, the Pacific plate 'subducts' the Indo-Australian, in the South island it overlaps, to push up the Southern Alps. In the middle, Wellington, it bashes straight together. This means that my hometown has a crazy topography of old fault 'scarps' 'fault-angle' depressions, rivers flowing the 'wrong way', numerous valleys formed by 'subsidary' faulting, land erosion, and a generally unstable ground underfoot. As Wellington grew, it flowed up valleys to form geographically rather isolated and self-contained little suburbs. I was born into one of these communities. Now, I was a somewhat shy and 'nerdy' kid in the mid to late sixties. American influence, by way of the anti-Vietnam war movement and 'hippydom,' hadn't quite flowed out from the Universities yet. I was to embrace all that in 1969. NZ was still 'Rugby football' and a quick fumble behind the bicycle sheds if you were lucky. Being too small and slow to play Rugby effectively I was cast in the 3rd 15, well away from glory and the girls. In the Hutt Valley you played Rugby, you simply had no choice. Being stomped on and raked with 'sprigged' boots every Saturday cured me of any enthusiasm I might have developed for the game. (Note to Americans; We played without body protection of any kind) I had to wait until University before I discovered that intellect can more than compensate for lack of sporting prowess when it comes to relations with women. Bullying and casual violence was common, both at school and in the community. The grounds of the High School I attended was dominated by gangs of students itching to prove their manhood by beating-up each other, and me. My father was a breeder of German Shepherds whom I always exercised along the rivers and over the hills. I had no problem with setting my dogs on anyone who attempted to bully me or extort money. I was, and still am, not to be fucked with. One of my happiest recollections was of some guy running away clutching his balls. My dog 'Cinderella' had just bitten him on the penis. ( All this is true...no shit) I never had any problem with Dog Control or the Police. Justice was served on the street. My best friend at the time, Steve, was a somewhat podgy fellow 'outcast'. I'd visit his house in a neighboring valley to hang-out. He would often baby-sit some neighbor's young daughters after school until their mother came home from work. (Shows the innocence of the times). We were 15. Christine and Nicole were about 6 and 8 respectively. Angela arrived home later from, 'Intermediate,' school, she was about 11. The younger girls were typical bubbly, playful energetic children. The older girl was blond, pretty, more reserved, and wore her school skirt very short, in common with the times. Steve invented the 'spanking game'. This consisted of chasing after the little girls, putting them over our knees, and lightly tapping them on the bottom. It became a regular activity until the older girl got home from school. We were worried the game might be 'misinterpreted' and the details communicated to their mother. We had a window of about half-an-hour. One afternoon Steve caught Nicole, after a particularly boisterous session, and reached under the girl's dress to pull her panties down. Everyone giggled away as he tapped her on the bare ass. Nicole's squealed and thrashed her legs about. He then pushed his hand between the girls legs and cupped her little bald pussy. The next thing Christine urged me to chase her. Not to be outdone, I followed Steve's lead and pulled her panties down to her knees to administer her 'spanking'. Both girls then took off their panties and demanded to be chased again. This happened a few more times with Steve and me taking more and more liberties with 'feeling them up'. The 'high-jinks' continue in this way with the girls 'daring' to display themselves by holding their dresses up for us. Eventually Christine pulled the zipper down of my jeans, saying it's not fair that they haven't 'seen' us. Steve backed away from the action as Christine wrestled my jeans down to my knees. Her sister watched nearby. My cock was in a semi-flaccid state as she felt and moved it about. I reached under Christine's little bottom and rubbed her with my finger. We had lost track of the time because I looked up and Angela was standing at the door with her mouth open. She had on her little green school skirt which barely covered her white panties. I looked at Steve who was as white as a sheet. I tried pull up my jeans but one of the girls was holding on to them. It would have been pleasant to report that Angela and I then went on to discover the joy of sex together. Alas it didn't happen. I managed to finish dressing and Steve and I beat a hasty retreat. Me, never to return. The aforementioned joy had to wait until I was 20 and it was with an Israeli with big tits. The only 'girlfriend' I had as a teenager was with a German/ Samoan girl a couple of years younger. She was a Jehovah's Witness and wasn't supposed to go out with boys. The most we ever did was hold hands. From age 17 I compensated for my lack of sex by indulging in a passion for insanely fast and lethal Japanese two-stroke motorcycles. I rode numerous Kawasaki and Yamaha death machines with utter neglect for my own safety. My 'tour de force' was the piloting of a Yamaha 650, equipped with a much-modified and bored-out motor from a beach racer, through the Mount Victoria tunnel. The road slopes away past it's western portal down a short hill to one of Wellington's major traffic roundabouts. If you gather sufficient speed the bike will shoot out of the tunnel airborne. You then have to brake heavily or you'll end up in through the fence of the cricket grounds. Needless to say I survived, just. That is, mostly the truth of a very selective autobiography. But, as they say, time moves on. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- 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> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+