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Message-ID: <40383asstr$1042247426@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Spiller -" <spiller48@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Small Town, Small Street, part two (BDSM, M+/F+)
Date: Fri, 10 Jan 2003 20:10:26 -0500
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This story is adult material, so stay off, if you shouldn't be here.

Remember: Authors' only reward is your comment. So please take a minute of 
your time to mail an opinion to:
spiller48@hotmail.com


Chapter four, number 5 and number 7.

	There is not much to be said about number 5.  In this case you could talk 
about `provincial' and `boring', or maybe I just do not know what has been 
going on earlier. Today it is occupied by an old couple in their eighties, 
and all the years I lived in the street there was no hanky panky with them. 
A retired fisherman he is a stout and weather-beaten man, and she is your 
archetype grandmother and great grandmother. Solid, kind, always busy and 
taking care of a lot of things.

	But number 7 ! When my attention was attracted to them they were in their 
mid thirties. Two nice and kind persons, and their children just as nice and 
well behaved. Helly was a school secretary and Peter was a clerk at the town 
hall. Not two very well paid jobs, but taking care of the pennies assured 
them a comfortable life in the house, which was their big hobby. Peter was 
very proficient with his hands, and Helly had done a lot of preliminary work 
in the city archives, so today their house was definitely the best restored 
in the street. Best in the way that it was absolutely true to its original 
looks.

	I had lived in the street for four years before I noticed anything. In the 
afternoon the kids were picked up by the grannies for a weekend in Legoland, 
and at around 7 three couples arrived at number 7. At about 9 I went for a 
short walk, and nothing out of the ordinary took place. From the windows of 
number 7 I could hear music, and people could be seen dancing. But when I 
returned from my walk about an hour later it looked as if the house was 
empty. No light, no people, no party. Quite early, I had to admit, and it 
tickled my curiosity.  I went home (I lived in number 11) and changed into a 
black cotton coat and a black hat. Then I went down to my back garden and 
along the path running behind the fences of all houses in Smallstreet.

	Number 7 was the only house in Smallstreet, which had a basement. And it 
was not even a proper basement; more like a first floor dug a couple of feet 
into the ground. A thin stripe of light penetrated the curtains, and I just 
could not help myself; my curiosity demanded satisfaction. What I saw 
through that narrow opening in the basement curtains had started five years 
earlier.

	Helly and Peter had been married for 7 years when they ran head on into a 
severe stalemate. It was absolutely no case of the `seven year itch'; it was 
more a case of the `missing itch'. Two highly active children, quite 
demanding jobs for both, work on the house, and then the 30-year syndrome: 
Your future seems put on rails, some of the dreams of your youth never came 
through, and the days turn monotonous and bleak. Each factor on its own 
would have been easily handled, but together they formed an efficient 
`passion killer', and gradually their lovemaking deteriorated into once a 
week, once every two weeks and once every month, if the weather was not too 
bad.

	On a gloriously warm afternoon in June they had filled up one of those 
portable plastic pools for the kids to play with in the back garden.  A 
little later Helly jokingly splashed a shower of water onto Peter, as he was 
sunning himself beside the pool. Equally jokingly Peter chased her round the 
garden, and right in front of their kids their love life took a drastic 
turn. He caught her, wrestled her down on the grass, held her arms, and 
jokingly started spanking her round bottom through her bikini briefs. Peter 
had expected her to fight back, but suddenly she went very soft in his 
hands, and her heavy breathing was no longer caused by their running around. 
It was just a short moment, because the kids thought it great fun, and came 
running to take part in the joke, but the moment was not forgotten.

	That night when they were undressing for bed, Peter saw that Helly had not 
changed her bikini into underwear, as she always did. When she took off her 
summer dress she was standing in her bikini, very conscious of what she was 
doing. Fortunately Peter is a very sensitive man, and he immediately 
percepted her wish.

	"Come over here, Helly. I think I didn't finish that spanking you deserve 
for splashing water on me." Slowly, without saying a word, she walked up to 
him. Her nervousness showed clearly in her slow steps, because this time it 
was not for fun, and she only had a faint idea of how she would react. In 
one swift movement he wrestled her down on their bed, lying face down, and 
when he had grabbed both her wrists with his left hand, he started slapping 
her pretty, round bottom. Quickly her breathing changed, just like it had 
done in the garden.

	"Don't you move while I take off your top." Peter let go of her hands, and 
true to his order she stayed where she was. When her top was off, he grabbed 
her hands again, and in a very determined way he dealt her 10 slaps on her 
arse and the backside of her thighs. This time Helly wriggled her hips, but 
not as if to avoid him, more like she tried to make her ass even more 
vulnerable.  Strong currents of passion and submission cursed through her 
body and her mind, and her breathing became more ragged.  After the last 
slap Peter let his hand rest on the backside of her thighs, and a little 
later he slowly and deliberately moved it up between the insides of her 
thighs until he touched her cunt through the panties. Her gusset was 
dripping wet. "She must have anticipated this for hours," he thought, "she 
couldn't get this wet in just a few minutes." He pulled out his hand and 
said:

	"In a little while I shall let go of your hands for a short moment. That 
doesn't mean your punishment is over. I only want you to stand up and take 
off those panties, and then turn round to show me that pink arse you've 
got." As if to emphasize his words he landed another two slaps on her, and 
then he let go. Helly got up from the bed, and stood in front of him for a 
little while, knees trembling, and a host of new sensations running through 
her. Then she hitched her thumbs into her waistband, and pulled down her 
panties and stepped out of them. When she was standing upright again she 
turned round and stood dead still, showing her glowing arse to her husband. 
Peter ran his hand gently across the pink, hot skin, and Helly shivered at 
the difference of his touch. When he grabbed her hips and pushed, as if to 
turn her round again, she willingly followed his silent direction. Peter was 
still sitting on the edge of their bed with Helly standing close in front of 
him, when he said: "Spread your legs. I want to feel how wet my cunt is."

	Helly was a little puzzled by his words, but willingly she moved her right 
foot, now standing with legs spread and her cunt on display. "Put your hands 
on your hips and push my cunt closer to me, but don't move your feet." Helly 
couldn't hold back a loud gasp of excitement when his hand finally touched 
her naked cunt. And wet she was. Very wet. Peter pulled back his hand and 
showed her the glistening juices on it. "Mmm, my cunt is deliciously juicy 
tonight. Only a pity it's hidden by too much hair. Go and fetch your 
sharpest pair of scissors, I want to trim it."

	"But I've never done that before. I don't want you to trim it."

	In one very fast movement Peter pulled her down across his lap and landed 5 
hard slaps on her arse. Then he lifted her off again and made her stand in 
front of him. "Didn't you hear me tell you that it's MY cunt?"

	"Yes, Peter, I heard it."

	"And can't I do to my cunt what I want to do?"

	"Yes, Peter."

	"All right, then. Go and fetch the scissors."

	Helly quickly fetched the little pair of scissors from their medicine 
cabinet in the bathroom. When she returned she handed it to him and said:

	"These are the sharpest we've got, Peter. But please be careful."

	He looked at her pussy for a little while, snipping the scissors in the 
air. "No, dear, this is not a safe angle to do it. Come and lie down on your 
back across the bed, and I'll see what I can do." He stood looking down at 
her as she stretched out on the bed, her ass close to the edge. Suddenly he 
turned round and grabbed the wire, connecting the lamp on his dresser. Then 
he went to the other side of the bed and pulled her arms together over her 
head, quickly tied her wrists together, and then secured their position over 
her head by tying them down to the side of the bed.

	"You see, I've better make sure that you stay where I want you. Now, open 
your legs and lift your knees up to your breasts."

	Never had she felt so vulnerable and degraded, and her pussy started 
running again. With his left arm supporting her thighs Peter now started 
cutting her pussyhair very short. Around her arse and her pussy lips first, 
which elicited a few scared gasps from Helly, when she felt the scissors 
touch her most vulnerable places. Then up to her abundant bush, which soon 
was a lot less abundant. When he had finished cutting, Peter fetched a warm, 
wet washrag from the bathroom and removed the snippets of hair from her body 
and from the bed. "My God, Helly, you look absolutely ravishing. I can 
really see how your cunt has opened up." He ran a finger from her 
bellybutton down across her protruding mons and all the way down touching 
her clit, vagina and arse. "And deliciously wet it is. I'm sure I'll get a 
lot of pleasure out of my cunt tonight."

	"Can I see it?"

	"I'll untie your hands for a little while, and you can look all you want 
while I go downstairs and fetch the cloth-line."

	When he returned with the bundle of line Helly was standing in front of the 
mirror. "Peter !  This is too much. I really can't go to the showers after 
the gym tomorrow, looking like this."

	"Why not? To me it looks a lot better."

	"What am I going to tell them, when they start asking questions?"

	"Tell them that your husband likes it so much that he wants to have a 
better look."

	A little snicker escaped her. "That would make a few of them quite 
envious."

	On the bed Helly was tied up spread-eagled, without a chance to move. For 
almost an hour Peter `tormented' her, sometimes spanking her thighs and her 
cunt, sometimes licking and sucking her fiercely, right up to the point of 
orgasm. Time and again he tested her to see, how far he could go, how hard 
he could pinch her nipples, how she would react having her face slapped with 
his hard cock, how much spanking would give her lust, and what made her 
flinch. Finally he masturbated her to a glorious orgasm, and before she had 
finished coming he plunged his red-hot cock into her and started fucking her 
fiercely. He could feel, that he would not last very long, but neither would 
Helly, considering it would be her second orgasm. When he saw the signs of 
her oncoming orgasm, her pink cheeks and chest, he suddenly pinched her 
nipples very hard, with his nails. He pinched them and he pulled them, while 
he hammered her the last 6 or 7 times. With a roar he emptied himself into 
her, and was rewarded with the most wonderful contractions of her cunt, as 
her orgasm overtook her.

	When his cock dwindled and plopped out of her, he got up on hands and knees 
and untied the strings, at the same time caressing her gently in the places 
where he had afflicted pain only moments earlier. They were totally 
exhausted, and it was way past midnight, when Helly snuggled up on his 
shoulder, her eyes shiny with tears of happiness.

	Peter realized, that for two absolutely unprepared beginners, they had been 
very, very fortunate, that the whole evening had developed so well. When 
they woke up next morning Helly was very loving and still very happy, and 
that day and over the next weeks they agreed to seek more information and 
inspiration before they tried again. For a couple of years they gradually 
developed their relationship. One problem, though, were the children. The 
risk of being disturbed, while Helly was tied up, was imminent, and on 
Helly's suggestion Peter redecorated one of the rooms in the basement to be 
their `darkroom'. Of course a darkroom must have a lock on the inside, and 
of course children cannot get in there just on the spur of the moment, and 
of course he put up a lot of sound isolation when he set up new panelling 
and ceiling.

	About a year later they got a computer, and together they surfed the 
Internet for information, and when they found the homepage of a Copenhagen 
SM club called `The Black Society' they were very silent for the time it 
took them to read about the club. When they had finished reading they turned 
to look at each other.

	"I don't even have to touch, Helly. I can see in your eyes that you are wet 
now."

	"And I can see your pants all right, but I wouldn't need to, to know you 
are hard."

	"What do you think? Should we give it a try?"

	"It looks terribly exciting, doesn't it?"

	"You bet. I'm very hard just talking about it."

	"And I'm wet. But...."

	"But what?"

	"With other people around, I'll sure need two `stop' codes. One like we 
have now, if things get too painful, but I'll also need one, if I really 
feel it's getting out of hand and I want to go home at once."

	"I'll need that one too. We could use the same word, and make the 
agreement, that it has to be respected under all circumstances. No 
discussion, no hesitation, just up and go if the word is said."

	She leaned over and kissed him. "You are such a sweetheart. God how I love 
you. And praise be the moment I splashed you with water."

	"Mmmm, only too happy you did, love. Well, let that be the word, then: 
`WATER'."

	Later they often talked about how easily they came to this agreement. If 
they had known how it would change their life they probably would have 
discussed it a lot more, but they did not. Peter contacted the club, they 
got more information, they were told about evenings for `beginners', and of 
sections of the club where people, who were into severe pain, could stay by 
themselves, and a lot more information.

	Two months later they `parked' the kids at Helly's parents and drove to 
Copenhagen on a Saturday evening. Helly had spent the better part of the 
afternoon making herself look like a million, in a slinky, red silk dress, 
high heels, sexy lingerie and heavy makeup. Peter was very elegant in casual 
slacks, white shirt and a coat. On the ride to Copenhagen they didn't talk 
much, but Helly felt herself  getting more and more heavy and damp between 
her thighs, and her belly felt, as if half of Denmark's butterflies had 
moved in there.

	The kind people in the reception had shown them the facilities and had 
advised them to take a look around, first. "You'll have to go and change 
first, though. Our erotic dress code is very unrestricted, but you have to 
be dressed in something erotic, like sexy lingerie, fetish gear, or whatever 
you like. We do not allow `suits on sightseeing' inside." Helly's underwear 
was fine for the occasion, shiny black stockings and suspenders, a tiny bra 
and flimsy panties. Peter's red G-string pouch would serve the purpose, and 
from his little suitcase he chose a short whip with 10 very soft leather 
thongs. Just before they entered Peter landed the whip on her arse and said: 
"Those panties will have to go, too. I want my cunt to be available."

	The sight that met them was unbelievable, and for a short moment Helly was 
tempted to cry `water'. About 30 people in various stages of nakedness, and 
as if it was the most natural behaviour in just as varied ways of 
domination. A tremendous rush of adrenaline ran through Helly, and she felt 
herself terribly turned on by the sights, but scared at the same time. A 
couple of the spankings were really severe. In a smaller room there were 
about 15 people engaged in different activities, but this time it looked a 
little less advanced. Peter sat down and told Helly to sit on the floor at 
his feet. For a little while they absorbed the activities and the different 
utilities.

	"That's right, sit down for a while and look at things." The tall woman 
from the reception came up to Peter's chair. "It is always a bit 
overwhelming the first time. But in this room, as you can see, there is no 
hard pain." She squatted in front of Helly. "I can see you are the slave. 
You do have a safety word, don't you?"

	"Yes. Actually we have two."

	"How is that?"

	"One for the pain, and one for going home."

	"Oh, that is very clever for the first times. But things will not turn 
nasty if you don't want it. It is a very strict rule, that you can ask for 
or offer assistance to other couples or individuals, but a `no' must be 
totally respected. May I offer you some advice?"

	"Certainly," Peter said.

	"For beginners I can recommend either the big X at the wall, or the solid 
bench with clamps for wrists and ankles." She got up from her squatted 
position and talked to Peter: "If you want to, I'd be happy to help you 
secure your slave to the big X, and show you what you can do there."

	"That would be very nice, in case she should put up a little struggle.  
Let's try that. Come, Helly."

	Helly felt her knees turn into jelly as she was led across the room to the 
big X on the wall. She didn't put up any resistance as Peter and the tall 
woman cuffed her wrists to the cross. Peter stepped back and looked at her. 
"I like that. Very nice."

	"The legs can be fixated in two ways." The tall woman showed Peter. "These 
cuffs are just like those for the wrists, so you wife will be tied up, 
really spread eagled. These other two are special. Look here: If you tie 
these leather cuffs to her ankles, you can hoist them up to be level with 
her wrists. A most interesting position. If you intend to leave her in that 
position for a long time, I'd advice you to put up this shelf to support her 
arse. Hanging unaided for a long time may be harmful to her back, apart from 
the pain and discomfort."

	"For a beginning I'd like her spread-eagled. She'll have to get used to 
other people looking at her, and I think I'd like to warm her front side a 
little."

	"OK. You start warming her, and I'll cuff her."

	Peter went up close to Helly and pressed a kiss on her trembling lips. Then 
he stepped back, and landed a number of lashes, which were more symbolic 
than really whiplashes, on her belly, pussy and thighs. He stepped back and 
admired the sight of his wife.

	"Yes, she is very pretty," said the tall woman. "Do you think she's going 
to like it here?"

	"I should hope so, but why don't you check her out for me? I'd guess she's 
reasonably wet already."

	There was a frightened look in Helly's eyes as the tall woman stepped up 
close, but she didn't say neither `break' nor `water', as she gave in and 
admitted her curiosity. This was the first time ever she was going to be 
touched by another woman. A divine tingle cursed through her body, as the 
soft, slim fingers parted the petals of her `rose', found her abundant 
juice, and went on to touch her clit with a lovely, soft pressure. A low 
moan escaped her, and she pulled at her cuffed wrists, as if to struggle 
against being tied up, but really it was in order to allow herself to rub 
her clit against that slender finger.

	"I'm sure she'll like it here," the tall woman said. "Do you want to 
taste?" She pulled her hand away from Helly's pussy and held it up in front 
of Peter's lips. He saw that they were glistening with juice, and it was a 
very erotic feeling to suck his wife's juice off another woman's fingers.

	"I should say so," Peter remarked. "And thank you for your help. I think 
I'll take it from here for a while. Thank you."


Chapter five, number 7 continued....

	Peter went up closer to Helly and landed little stinging lashes across her 
thighs and belly. A couple of the leather thongs slipped in between her legs 
and hit her pussy with a stinging pain. Once again the adrenalin rushed 
through her, and she was totally concentrated on what was going on now, not 
five minutes or two years ago. When he stepped up very close to her, the 
uncertainty about what he was going to do was like a hot, erotic caress. He 
placed the whip in front of her mouth.

	"Hold this with your teeth, I need my hands elsewhere."

	Willingly she opened her mouth and bit into the shaft of the whip, and then 
she felt Peter's hands move down to her tiny bra. Fortunately it opened in 
front, and soon it was hanging lose on her ribs, while her proud, small and 
pert breasts stood out all naked. He took back his whip and stepped back.

	"Mmmm. You look absolutely edible now, the only thing I need for now is to 
get that lovely pink colour on your whole front."  God, he was good at that: 
Small, smart lashes, just hard enough to hurt a little, but never really 
violent. Her tiny breasts quivered in the most enticing way every time the 
soft leather thongs hit them, and gradually her whole front started to glow. 
For a short while he concentrated on hitting the top of her thighs and her 
pussy, and soon he saw her try to push her abdomen forward to meet his 
lashes.

	Throughout this, a nice couple around 40 had been watching them intensely. 
When Peter stopped the whipping and turned round to look at them, a moan 
escaped the woman. "That looks wonderful. You are very good at that." She 
was a full-bodied very pretty woman, dressed only in numerous thin chains, 
which intricately exposed her body where it ought to be exposed.

	Peter turned to her husband: "I could do with a little help. I'm not quite 
sure how to hoist up my slave's legs. Do you know how it works?"

	The excitement Helly had felt when she saw the club's homepage had been 
very nondescript, but suddenly her hidden lust broke out. Having a stranger 
help Peter hoist her legs up, so her ankles were close to her wrists, and so 
that her arse and cunt jutted out in such a vulnerable position, was the 
wildest and horniest situation she could have imagined. The two men stepped 
back to enjoy the sight, and Peter said: "I think we'll let her hang like 
that for a little while, before we put up the little shelf to support her 
arse. I think I'll whip her arse a little, but then you should feel free to 
touch and play with my slave."

	This time Peter put quite a bit more power into his lashes, and in just a 
few minutes Helly's behind and the back of her thighs had acquired the most 
lovely rosy colour, and her moans of pain had changed to moans of lust. 
Peter reached out and fondled her cunt as if it was just some piece of meat. 
  "Oh, dear. She's very sloppy now. I shouldn't blame you, if you want your 
slave to clean up this wet cunt  with her tongue, before you handle her."

	The man turned round and pulled at a thin chain, which was fastened to a 
dog's collar around his wife's neck: "You heard him, Ulla, there is a wet 
cunt to be licked clean. Get up and do it."

	Helly opened her eyes, and through a haze of lust she saw the pretty 
brunette walk up to her, felt how she reached out and caressed her rosy 
thighs, and then lowered her mouth to her wet cunt. A soft, moaning "ooohhh" 
escaped her, as Ulla proceeded to lick her with that tiny, pointed tongue, 
almost as if her cunt was an ice-cone to be consumed. Rushes of lust flew 
through her as she savoured this first: A woman licking her out. Ulla 
withdrew her mouth.

	"She's cleaned out now, John."

	"Did you clean out her arse, too? Some of that juice must have run down 
there."

	With shiny eyes Ulla dived in again, this time lapping the whole crack, 
from arsehole to clit and back again. Her own nipples swelled visibly as she 
was doing this.

	"Ready for you, John. She tastes very good."

	John looked at Peter, who nodded his head in approval.

	"Ok, and thank you Peter. But maybe you would do me a favour?"

	"Of course."

	"Ulla thought you were very good with the whip. If I chain her arms to that 
rope, hanging from the ceiling, would you please give her a good lashing? 
I'd sure appreciate that."

	Only a minute later Ulla's arms were raised towards the ceiling, and she 
was left standing on the front of her feet. Her breasts were heaving, and 
the big, brown nipples stood out. Peter waited to watch Helly's reaction 
when John started licking her. There was no way she could hide her 
excitement, and then he turned round to Ulla. Without any preparation he 
landed the first two soft lashes on her front. Only a few of the leather 
thongs landed on her skin, the rest hit her chains. Soon he found out how he 
could lift the light chains to bare Ulla's skin wherever he wanted it bared, 
and very methodically he proceeded to warm her. It was a great delight to be 
able to walk around her, as she was hanging there, and so was the little 
kitten-like mewing she uttered, every time the whip hit her.

	Suddenly he heard the familiar sounds of Helly approaching an orgasm. Peter 
turned his head to look at the scene. John lifted his head out of Helly's 
cunt and asked: "Should we allow her to come?"

	"Since it's her first time here I think we should. If you put two fingers 
up her slave cunt I'm sure you'll like her contractions."

	"OK, I'll enjoy them."  John soon had a couple of fingers up her cunt, and 
then he started licking her again. Helly opened her eyes for a short moment 
and looked at Peter through a blurred haze of lust, and then she closed them 
again and succumbed to the orgasm. Peter had moved in behind Ulla, and while 
they both enjoyed the horny sight, he fondled her breasts with one hand and 
masturbated her with the other. Ulla was so wet, that juice had seeped down 
and made the soft insides of her thighs abundantly wet. Her cunt was 
certainly a delight to touch.

	"I'm sure your lovely, red skin tells you, that we are in command tonight, 
doesn't it," Peter whispered into Ulla's ear.

	"Oh, yes, it does. You and John are in command, sir."

	Peter reached up and untied her wrists from the rope. "Fine. I order you to 
go and suck your husband's fingers clean, and then you can help him guide 
his cock into my slave's cunt. And mind you, it's the first cock other than 
mine, that she's had for ten years."

	"But I need John's permission, too."

	"Hey, John. Your slave needs your permission to guide your cock into my 
slave. Can she do that?"

	"Sure. I'd be delighted if it's OK with you and your slave."

	"It's OK with me, and that's all the OK you need. Helly is here tonight to 
obey and enjoy, those were my orders when we entered."

	John fetched a low box to stand on, which would bring his cock level with 
Helly's vulgarly open cunt, and with shaking hands Ulla rolled a condom on 
to his fat cock. While she rubbed it up and down Helly's slit and then 
positioned it at the opening, John turned round to look at Peter. "And you 
are very welcome to take your pleasure out of my slave. That fuck-bench over 
there is perfect."

	While the two slaves were fucked for good, Helly's screams of joy had 
called the attention of several of the other guests, and when John pulled 
out his dwindling cock Peter invited all, men and women alike, to touch, 
masturbate or lick his slave. Later Peter fucked Helly's by now very sloppy 
cunt, but without a condom, and their first club evening ended when John 
ordered Ulla to suck Helly's cum-filled cunt while he fucked her from 
behind.

	In the shower and sauna still later, they talked about what had happened. 
John and Ulla and three other couples were in the sauna too. Peter admitted 
that the evening had surpassed his hottest expectations, and Helly just 
nodded her exhausted agreement.

	"I just loved that you two do not use all that strange lingo of `Master', 
`sub', `Lord' and all," said John. "It seems so strange to me."

	"Me too," a couple of the others said.

	A little later Peter said:" The only thing which could have made this even 
better would have been the absence of rubbers, but with AIDS and all, it's 
too dangerous without."

	The evening turned out to be Peter's and Helly's only visit to the club. 
Before they left five couples had agreed to start their own, private club, 
with strict promises of an HIV-check plus abstinence from other 
extracurricular activities.

	Those were the guests I had seen enter number 7, because the club was still 
going strong, with one monthly club evening, taking place in peoples private 
`dungeons'.

To be continued.....













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