Message-ID: <48442asstr$1089418204@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <foxbat00@gmail.com> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Message-ID: <2bf593d704070912456618ef89@mail.gmail.com> From: "Mr. Foxbat" <foxbat00@gmail.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 9 Jul 2004 14:45:28 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} Mother's Daughter by Foxbat (mf nc nosex flash) Lines: 183 Date: Fri, 9 Jul 2004 20:10:04 -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/Year2004/48442> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman Mother's Daughter by Foxbat (mf nc nosex flash) Disclaimer: This story contains graphic sex should not be read if such stories are illegal in your state, or if you are a minor. Please feel free to distribute this, on the condition that the disclaimer and author's name remain intact and unaltered. For previous parts, or other stories of mine, please check out http://assm.asstr-mirror.org. You can search by title or author, or just browse. Happy reading. Thanks to ASSTR, I also have a website at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/foxbat/www/ where you can find all of my work. This is also available via ftp at www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/foxbat/ Feedback, comments, suggestions, etc are always welcomed and appreciated at foxbat00@gmail.com Mother's Daughter by Foxbat (mf nc nosex flash) The doorbell chime interrupted Diane as she was doing the dishes after dinner. Her daughter, one day past her fifteenth birthday, was helping her dry. "Can you get that hun?" Diane asked, tired still from chaperoning the birthday party. "Sure, mom," Julie said, as she dropped the towel and walked towards the front door. Reappearing a minute later, she informed her mother, "He says he's here to see you. Says he's an old friend." Diane turned, just as the man stepped into view from the front hallway. Her heart leaped into her throat, and she had to grip the towel-bar to keep from collapsing. He looked just like she remembered, except that he was perhaps a little more bald, his neatly trimmed beard more white, and the depth of his gray eyes even greater. When she had first met him while working at the diner, she thought he looked like some sort of distinguished author or statesman. He was the type who was instantly recognizable, but impossible to describe - American is full of bearded men of average height and weight. It was those eyes which defied description that made him unmistakeable though. And those eyes now burned into her again for the first time in 15 years. "Hun, why don't you go upstairs. Mr..." - she realized she'd never known his last name - "Mr. Smith and I have some things to talk about." Julie, despite a momentary premonition of trouble, complied, disappearing up the stairs near the front door. "So you've finally come for her," Diane sighed, with a look of resignation. The man nodded slowly. "From the look of things, I would guess that you haven't told her anything," the man observed. "Yes, I thought I'd leave that to you," Diane replied, a faint smile on her lips. "You did such a good job explaining to me." Both looked wistful for a moment, their minds on events that happend 15 years prior. Suddenly, the man looked up. "So I will be back later tonight then, after she's asleep." He paused. "You will keep your end of the deal - you will not fight me on this, right?" His gray eyes tore into Diane. Inwardly, she laughed. He must be getting senile if he thought that anything she could do would stop him. She'd already tried every trick in the book, but after each move, every name change, the monthly $5000 checks would always find their way into her bank account, regularly as clockwork. After a few years, Diane had essentially given up, and decided that she might as well give her daughter a normal life for as long as she could. She sighed and nodded her acquiescence. It would be hard to live in an empty house again. Part of her wondered how her daughter would react - if Julie would feel the same feelings that she herself had felt all those years ago. It was strange, she thought, but by the end, she was almost reluctant to leave. Not that that had stopped her. It was testimony to her still conflicted feelings on the matter though, that she had never been satisfied with any relationship she'd had since. She had not been traumatized so much in retrospect. She felt less like an abused child as a result of the experience, and more as, say, a veteran who returns from war to find the normal existence for which he'd been longing for years too mundane to occupy him or to sate his craving for... not for war again, but for something like it. Diane looked up from her reverie, but the white-bearded man had already left. Perhaps with her daughter gone she could now renew her search for man in her free time. *** "Good morning, sleey," said the old man. Julie at first thought she was still dreaming as she opened her eyes. She was sitting in a large easy chair in the middle of what appeared to be a private library. The walls were covered in floor to ceiling shelves, and the chairs in which she and the old man sat were the only furniture besides a reading table or two. She tried to sit up in the seat, only to discover that her arms were bound behind her back. Further struggling established that her feet were also bound, and that all binding were quite secure. The man sat calmly, watching and waiting while the girl tested her bonds and then screamed for help. After nearly 5 minutes of this, the man, with a patronizing but slightly peeved look finally inquired if she was quite done already. Feeling foolish, Julie shot the man a drop dead look, but remainded silent and immobile on the floor, where she'd fell during her struggles. "Now then. Do you know why you're here?" the man with the beard asked Julie. She recognized him as the friend of her mother's who had been at the door the previous night. "Because you fucking kidnapped me!" Julie seethed in response. The man smiled. "Touche. Do you know why I kidnapped you then?" he asked. Julie shook her head in frustration, wishing that the game of 20 questions he was playing would end, so that she could be released or rescued or anything really except this Alice-in-Wonderland-like reality. "You will be my sex slave," pronounced the man, smiling for the first time. "You will service me, and anyone else I designate eagerly and skillfully, or else I will punish you. Of the two modes of existence available to you, I will enjoy both equally, while you might find one much more to you liking than the other." His smile twisted into a leer. "Fuck you! I'll never touch you, you fucking perv!" Julie spat back at him. He just continued smiling. "You remind me so much of your mother," the man sighed, as if the thought alone wearied him. For a moment, her anger was forgotten, as Julie was overcome by curiosity. "How did you know my mother," she asked. "Your mother once lay on the floor where you now lie. She fulfilled my every fantasy for about 5 years. Then, one day, after one of my little parties, she informed me that she was pregnant. After clinical verification, and on learning that I was not the father, I decided to get her an abortion, but she pleaded with me to let her have the child. Despite having been very carefuly with birth control for her, this unexpected condition ruined all my plans. Her desire to keep the child was so strong, that she told me she would do anything to be able to have it. "The child is you, and the anything was the stipulation that, at age 15, you would fill out the remainder of your mother's service to me. Since, at the time of her release, your mother had already been missing 5 years, she had been declared legally dead. Each month since then, I have deposited a substantial amount of money into her bank accounts to allow her to raise you in a nice environment, without having to worry about work or money. Despite her best efforts at evading me, and despite having told her story to the FBI - who did not believe her anyway - I have followed you both, waiting for today. Over the intervening years, I have had other 'ammusements,' but none has come anywhere near your mother in satisfying me." The man paused, looking down at Julie, who seemed to be in shock. Part of her was denying what the man said, but it did explain all the moving and name-changing which stood out so starkly in the landscape of her early memories. Her mother had always told her that the money had come from the estate of a rich aunt who'd died, but she'd never known the name or heard about the aunt in any other context. There were only the most faint memories of private detectives and investigators, police, and talk of monthly deposits - faint enough that she was unsure to what extent they were seeded by what the man had just told her. ------ As always, I love to hear what you think. Drop me an email at foxbat00@gmail.com -- 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> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+