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From: "Yotna El'toub" <yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com>
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ReSent-Subject: {ASSM} Webb's Wonderful Web - Book 3 The War! Chapter 1 of
 15 By Yotna El'toub 
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Subject: {ASSM} Webb's Wonderful Web - Book 3 The War! Chapter 1 of 15 By Yotna El'toub 
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Date: Fri,  6 Aug 2004 00:10:03 -0400
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_________________________________________________________
Webb's Wonderful Web - Book 3 The War! - Chapter 1 of 15
By Yotna El'toub  (MC,FF,MF,MM,Alien,SF)

With thanks to my proofreaders Esu and Scorpiocat, for their humour and 
friendship.
_________________________________________________________
Inspired by Lost Boys first competition and dedicated to the LB and his 
work.
WARNING: This story will contain situations and explicit language of an 
adult nature and should be read only by those of a legal age to do so. If 
you are a minor or object to stories of an adult nature, LEAVE HERE 
IMMEDIATELY. Legal age local to the author is 18+ please abide to your own 
local laws. Please note and understand the content codes for this story.

The characters portrayed in this story are just that, characters in my 
story.  Any similarities to real people are purely coincidental and 
unintentional. The characters and situations portrayed are pure fantasy; the 
author is keen to state that in reality adult sexuality should remain only 
in the adult world. Please do not allow or cause this story to fall in to 
the hands of minors.

(C) Yotna El'toub 2004
_________________________________________________________


Chapter 1: Under siege

Dave yawned and lent back against the wooden shell of his stall `Shit things 
are sure slow in here today'. His half closed eyes watched a fly slowly buzz 
across the space of the shopping centre, its intention clear. Sure enough, 
the fly settled on the plump strawberries that filled the punnets at the 
front of his stall. One swift grab and the fly was trapped in Dave's fist, 
he smiled `You have to be faster than that to catch out Dave Green' he 
thought in triumph. But the high was short lived, the fly was duly squashed, 
and tedium descended once more.

Ella and Tina walked through the quiet centre, relieved to have so few 
competitors for the first of the summer sales. Ella turned nimbly on her 
heels and scooted into Prada, Tina, as always, followed in her friends wake; 
she knew Ella had a nose for the bargains, it was wise to let her sniff them 
out.

Sure enough the girls were soon standing in front of a row of designer 
dresses, spring season wear for sure, but there were some very tempting 
clothes on offer. The dull thump of a rap song plugged away in the 
background, unwatched, MTV gyrated on the panel display behind them.

"Ella, we can't afford to even look at these!" Tina whispered.

"Who said anything about paying for them?" Ella smiled.

Tina felt the butterflies tapping against her lower stomach; she loved that 
feeling - the excitement - when Ella took control.

"Ella! You can't, you'll be caught, they are very security conscious here" 
Tina warned her friend half-heartedly.

"No I can't, but with my help - you can!" Ella giggled softly.

"Me no! I couldn't..." Tina's eyes widened.

"Listen I've got a plan - it's easy really!" Ella soothed.

Tina felt the rush, almost sexual, sweep over her; Tina bent her head to 
listen to her friend's idea.

Soon Tina was walking towards the changing room with three dresses and 
Ella's carrier bag. Her legs trembled, her mind fixed on the adrenaline 
rush.

"Three items, cubicle four please, madam" chimed the prissy assistant. Tina 
smiled nervously and disappeared into the indicated booth.

Once inside, she started to snip off the labels, and position them in the 
same places on the market bought copies. Soon only the security tags 
remained securely fastened to the expensive dresses. Tina carefully placed 
each one into Ella's carrier bag, and then hung the copies onto the shops 
hangers. Her heart pounding, Tina drew back the curtain and strode out, 
replacing the three fakes on the rack before the self-assured assistant.

"Thank you madam, I am sorry they were not to your taste," she said, with an 
insincere smile.

Tina was certain she heard a sneer in the practiced cultured tones but 
ignored it, and headed towards the front of the store. Suddenly all hell 
broke out - sirens screamed and red lights in the ceiling blinked furiously! 
Immediately Tina felt a hand close around her upper arm, she glanced into 
the eyes of the store detective; her heart missed a beat, and then two more.

"No need to panic madam, but we need to clear the shop, fire alarm - please 
go out through the fire doors over there and make your way to the right out 
into the esplanade" He advised in a calming voice.

Tina glanced around for Ella, the hesitation earning her a swift rebuke.

"Now madam, this is not a drill!"

Tina raced for the exit and out into the safe hallway, she emerged shaken 
and confused. A sudden whooping sound behind her made Tina jump.

"Tine it worked, it worked!" Ella cried, dancing around the confused 
teenager.

"What? Move away Ella, there's a fire in the store!" Tina gasped.

"No there's not, silly! Just a smoke bomb I set off," Ella paused for 
breath, "No detectors on the fire doors, see?"

"Oh you silly bitch, you frightened me - so much," breathed Tina in relief.

Ella giggled.

"I can see that, you've peed yourself girl!" Ella pointed to the dark stain 
on the crotch of Tina's jeans.

"Oh that, that's not pee..." Tina stopped mid-sentence, and then blushed 
deeply.

"You dirty bugger, it gets you going doesn't it? Is that why you are always 
up for it? Ella grinned at her befuddled friend.

At that moment the store detective emerged from the fire doors.

"You two!" he shouted.

Ella and Tina froze.

"Move away from the fire doors right away, we need room for emergency 
access!"

The girls moved away willingly, and kept on moving. They left the mounting 
crescendo of lights and sirens far behind them.

"So Miss sarcastic, are you saying our brush with the law there did nothing 
for your pulse?" asked an inquisitive Tina.

"It frightened the shit out of me - but it didn't turn me on, you are just 
plain weird, Tine!" Ella smiled, trying to broker the peace.

"Well sod you Ella Fisher, so what if I gets a buzz; you got your precious 
clothes - didn't you! Tina grumbled.

"Look I'm sorry, look - I'll get you some of those strawberries and some 
cream - pretty please - I'm sorry," Ella appealed to her friend's sweet 
tooth.

"Um, alright then you're forgiven then; but you have to feed them to me - 
like I'm a queen" Tina smiled, sheer devilment crossing her pretty features.

"Oh, well OK if it'll make you happy," agreed a downtrodden Ella, "but I get 
to keep all the clothes, deal?"

"Deal" agreed Tina.

The girls laughed, and walked off towards the stall, arm in arm.

Dave Green perked up, `This is more like it' he though as he directed his 
best salesman's smile at the approaching girls.

"Ladies, Dave Green's the name, Green by name but not by nature" Dave 
winked.

"Yeah, sure, whatever - punnet of strawberries, and some cream!" Ella 
sighed.

"Strawberries, yes me dear picked by me own fair hand this mornin', but no 
cream sorry; can't keep it cool enough in this place!" Dave replied.

"Forget it then, dork - no cream no sale!" snarled Ella.

"No, don't be mean to Dave, I'll make do with just strawberries Ella" Tina 
cooed.

"OK then Romeo, big punnet of strawberries for my friend" Ella nodded.

"Sure, £2.85 please, madam"

"That's a bit steep isn't it" Ella protested.

Tina fidgeted, and nudged Ella hard in the side; grudgingly Ella paid Dave.

"And 15 pence change, madam" Dave offered.

"Keep it Davey boy, I'm sure you need it more than me" sneered Ella.

Dave shook his head as the girls walked away, `God, I'd like to show you a 
thing or two, you cheeky beggar' he fumed in silence.

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



Malcolm marched along the line of cars with military precision, he tutted at 
the tardiness of others. So far this morning he had booked 30 or so cars, 
and it was getting worse - what the hell was wrong with these people.
They got into that place and lost all sense of reality, buying their crap, 
and ignoring the rules.

"Idiot, damn idiots" Malcolm muttered into his much-loved black organiser, 
as he booked yet another offender.

Rules were important to Malcolm, rules and procedures, he had learnt in the 
Army how they could save your life. The memory of his Army days brought him 
to a sudden halt in his stride. Twenty years, twenty years of loyal service, 
and now this - a car park attendant for imbeciles!

His sullen reminiscing was brought to a shattering end, as a teenaged boy 
raced up to him on his BMX, raised two fingers and shouted coarsely.

"Malcolm the poofter, Malcolm the poofter - can't catch my arse Gaylord!" 
screeched the spotty youth.

Stoical Malcolm ignored the pathetic teasing, he had put up with it all 
through his military career, one way and another. Malcolm was not gay, he 
was controlled, abstinent - it's what mother would have expected of him.

He sighed deeply, part of him was convinced he had been born on the wrong 
planet; he wasn't like them, the pointers, the teasers, the absent minded. 
No he had a purpose, and that purpose was to end the chaos, to bring control 
and discipline to the world. Years ago he forgot about the world, deciding 
he could only bring it to himself and his life - it was his religion!

Malcolm glanced down at his watch 10:44, time for a coffee; a minute 
marching and he would arrive at the café at 10:45 - precisely on time - 
excellent!

He stepped from his ordered world, into the chaos of Central Milton Keynes. 
He hated this place, garish adverts, and suggestive clothes - depravity. 
Malcolm upped his pace to a brisk double time, and stared resolutely ahead - 
ignoring all temptation. He rounded the corner toward the café and stopped. 
He let out a strangled cry - not believing his own eyes!

Three firemen, in a very unsuitable state of dress, ran after a screaming 
woman. Malcolm noted the woman was quite sensibly dressed, well apart from 
the large breast that flopped from side to side as she ran, billowing up the 
remnants of her tattered blouse. She ran straight up to Malcolm, gripped him 
tightly, and thrust her unwelcome naked breast into his serge uniform.

"Help me they're beasts!" she gasped, trying in vain to pull together the 
flaps of her torn Prada blouse.

"Madam, control yourself I will sort out any unpleasantness; these men are 
fellow professionals" Malcolm stated coldly.

He strode confidently towards the front-runner in the group.

"Now see here chaps..."

The blow sent Malcolm reeling; his head struck the marbled floor with a 
sickening crack. The world swam around him, he blinked and almost blacked 
out; he fought back against the darkness and won. Struggling up on one 
elbow, he swung his head unsteadily following his attackers. They were 
gaining on the panicked woman; she disappeared like a frightened rabbit 
around the corner to the right. Her attackers paused, fighting for breath. 
`Good on her, she'll get away' Malcolm thought hazily.

Then for the second time in a few minutes he witnessed the unthinkable. The 
woman returned around the corner, now both breasts were exposed, and she 
caressed them in a most lewd way. Suggestively she licked her lips, as she 
walked towards the breathless fire crew.

She knelt before the tallest one, a wiry lad of twenty or so, unzipped him 
and sank his erect member into her welcoming mouth. Her hands were not idle 
either; each one snaked into the fly of the other firemen and freed their 
organs, masturbating them wildly.

This was outrageous, they couldn't do that here - this was a family venue! 
Innocents could be degraded - it was his duty to intervene. Ignoring the 
nausea and pain Malcolm struggled to his feet and made his way towards the 
fornicating group. It took him some time to traverse the short distance, and 
Malcolm arrived just in time for one of the firemen to release his steaming 
load. It hit Malcolm in the chest, stringing dripping whiteness all over the 
cherished serge jacket.

Malcolm saw red! He launched a feverish attack at the orgasmic man. Savagely 
beating him back from the floozy, she still entertained the others.

The sheer brutality of Malcolm's attack sent the injured fireman running for 
cover. A furious Malcolm dashed after him. Malcolm turned the corner and 
stopped dead!

An entire shop front glowed with colourful swirling TV screens. Forty years 
of restraint broke in an instant. Unknown desire flooded every fibre of 
Malcolm's being; he turned back and walked to the kneeling woman.

His hand rummaged under her skirt and pulled aside the sodden panties. In a 
second he was in her up to the hilt, he gasped at his pleasure - and moved 
on to a new phase of life. Order was gone - chaos ruled.


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

Dave was marginally less bored; he stood arms folded, watching one teenage 
girl feed strawberries docilely to another. He idly wondered about their 
relationship, the blonde one seemed OK, but under the thrall of the 
raven-haired bitch.

But the feeding was the other way round, the pale Irish looking girl fed the 
berries to the slim blond one, odd - but who was he to judge? Finally bored 
of their antics his eyes drifted to the big screen on the concourse, shit 
even that was boring - some sort of news conference. As Dave watched the 
display momentarily blanked and was filled by a mass of swirling colours.

His eyes locked onto the screen, until a flitting distraction entered his 
peripheral vision. His hand flashed out with practiced ease and captured the 
unwary fly. `Nice try fly, but you got to be better than that to beat Dave 
Green' he smiled grimly at his thought. He crushed the squirming life in his 
hand with some satisfaction. Then, Dave glanced back up at the girls on the 
bench opposite, and his mouth fell open, wide open - the casual observer 
would have thought he was trying to catch flies.

The image burning into his irises was lurid; the dark-haired girl was 
crushing the remaining strawberries onto the blonde's small chest. Already 
the juices had soaked through the thin cotton, and defined the outline of 
the underlying nipples in a rich, red contrast. As he stared the diligent 
pale girl slipped a hand under the hem of the tee shirt to access her 
partner more intimately. Dave's erection stirred in his boxer shorts, 
pressing the circumcised tip against his zip.

The show went on uninterrupted by Dave's burgeoning interest, the 
raven-haired girl started to lick the sticky juice from her friend's pert 
breasts. She took care to savour the tips, encouraging them to full 
ripeness. Dave decided the he could risk moving closer; they seemed 
oblivious of his voyeurism, so consumed were they by their intense Sapphic 
lust.

Dave walked forward; as he did his pronounced limp betrayed his condition. 
His eyes were fixed on the girls, a pale hand slipped from the blonde's tee 
shirt and nestled securely down the front of her tight denim jeans - she 
bucked against the invisible squirming fingers. His mouth went dry, Dave 
shut it and swallowed, but no spit came.

He finally stopped walking just inches away from the teenage lovers.  A pale 
hand extended, and slapped his face, momentarily turning it back to the big 
screen. His eyes drank in the flowing colours, his mind faded - only 
sensation remained.

Blank eyes continued to stare at the screen, long after the swirling mass 
had disappeared, and the normal coverage resumed. No one listened to the 
broadcast; all were too involved in their private sexual worlds. Dave swung 
his head back to gaze blindly into the pale blue eyes of the blonde girl; 
they had lost their sparkle since he last looked in them. It mattered not.

His mind was only locked onto the sensations her tongue gave him, as it 
travelled the considerable length of his bursting erection. Dave Green was 
beaten.

It was a shame that no one in the shopping centre listened to this 
broadcast, it would have explained a lot.

"One more question for the Minister" the aide asked.

"Nigel Titfer, The Times, so Minister these reports we have of random 
outbreaks of wanton behaviour are exaggerated in your opinion" the 
journalist asked.

"Absolutely, sensationalism of the worst kind. We are talking about a few 
occurrences of sexual hysteria. Clearly of concern, but hardly earth 
shattering" the Minister answered, curtly.

"So the rumours of crazed people is so much baloney, right! And what about 
the queues of people heading for Porton Down, Minister - What's all that 
about? Eh, Eh!" an unidentified voice shouted.

"Merely a few affected souls heading for the treatment centre as they have 
been advised. Really please curb your imaginations!" the minister paused "In 
fact Mr Jonas will brief you about that situation - Mr Jonas..."

An anonymous official stood and walked to the microphone.

"As of 10:00 hours we have implemented martial law, purely as a precaution 
to control any panic caused by excessive media speculation..." Mr Jonas's 
voice was drowned by the general hubbub.

One voice rose in protest.

"Nigel Titfer, Martial law! What are you holding back? This is unacceptable, 
in all my years..."

Mr Jonas's voice barked out, cutting off all dissent in an instant.

"The video you are about to watch will explain the restrictions to be placed 
on the media."

"It's got to be pretty persuasive to stop me reporting what I want to on 
this," shouted an anonymous voice.

The Minister stood, the grey irises of his eyes narrowed into slits, his 
smile was positively reptilian.

"Oh it is persuasive, I assure you it issss!"

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


Part 1 of 5

Book Three of the WWW Trilogy


_____________________________________________________________
Foot Notes (C)Yotna El'toub 2004
________________________________________________________

I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
As always, feedback is appreciated, since it is my only payment for my work. 
Please address comments to Yotna.eltoub@hushmail.com

This story is copyrighted by the author and as such may not be published, 
posted or archived on any newsgroup, website, or server, other than ASSM and 
ASSTR, without the EXPRESS PERMISSION of the author. Any reader may archive 
a copy of this story, provided the warnings and copyright information is 
attached in full.

_________________________________________________________________
Stay in touch with absent friends - get MSN Messenger 
http://www.msn.co.uk/messenger

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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