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Message-ID: <48948asstr$1093273803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: rache696@yahoo.com (Rache)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 23 Aug 2004 01:38:32 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Van Dyke Street (FF/M, Les, BDSM, NC, CBT, Null)
Lines: 557
Date: Mon, 23 Aug 2004 11:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Story Codes: FF/M, Les, BDSM, NC, CBT, Null

Copyright 2004 Rachael P. Ross all rights reserved. May be reposted
and/or archived to FREE adult access provided my name, email
rache696@yahoo.com and this notice are included in the message text.
All characters and events are fictional and no resemblance to actual
persons or events is intended.

Author's note: Originally written in 2000 or so, I was still in high
school anyway, hence some of the references like the VW. I'd
completely forgotten it until...lo and behold...I found it, along with
other stuff. I dusted it off but didn't do a whole lot of editing for
content, just style really. The writing was originally quite
atrocious! -rr


Van Dyke Street
Fiction by rache


I was sitting on my front steps with my best friend Jenny when the guy
showed up. He was driving a little yellow VW Bug, one of the new ones
using UFO technology. It wasn't spinning around really fast or
anything though, it was just pulling a U-Haul trailer. We figured some
girl would get out. But it was the guy.

He was kind of cute, like Mr. Chekhov on the old Star Trek show,
before he became the bad guy on Babylon 5, which I think was a sexier
character...but young Mr. Chekhov looked sexier, in a queer nation kind
of way.

"Are those posies?" Jenny asked me. "Or pansies?" She was pointing at
the flowers in the UFO inspired flower vase molded onto the little
dash of the VW Bug.

"I don't know." I admitted.

We sat there, just watching mostly as the guy unloaded his stuff. He
looked like he was probably a musician, or a hit man for the mob.

"Is that a violin case?" Jenny wondered aloud, pausing to light a
cigarette.

"Or a viola case?" I finished for her as she handed me one too.
"Thanks, Jen."

Every now and then the guy would look at us and smile, he even waved
once, I think, or maybe there was a mosquito or something in his face.
I thought about going to help him, but that would have been unethical,
because Jenny and I had already decided we hated him.

"Why did he move here?" Jenny had conned Delilah, the black girl who
lived in the basement, out of a forty and she passed it to me. "I
mean, it's fucking Dyke Street for crying out loud."

"Technically it's Van Dyke Street, honey." Delilah said.

"Yeah, but you know what I mean." Jenny held out her hand. "Hey
bitch!"

I swallowed a couple mouthfuls of malt liquor and handed the bottle,
still in a small paper bag, back to Jenny. "Sorry." I grinned. "Maybe
that's why he moved here."

"He's a twink." Delilah judged and went back downstairs.

"I don't care if he's fucking Tinkerbell himself." Jenny sniffed. "I
can smell his prick."

This part of the Village, for a couple blocks anyway, was almost
exclusively female. Lesbian supremacists like my girlfriend Jenny, and
their muffs, like me, lived here. Having the guy move in was like a
slap in the face for Jenny. I didn't really care. I figured he was
gay, so who cares right? Live and let live, that's my motto, but
that's why I'm just a bottom bitch.

"Looks like he's just about done." I observed.

"Yeah." Jenny nodded. "Why don't you go say hi to the guy."

I looked at Jenny. "Why?"

"Because." She answered. "I want to play."

"What if he's gay?" Since he seemed to be, at least as we blithely
stereotyped him, ignoring our own great distaste for such treatment.

"Then ask him if he'd take a look at our wallpaper." 

We'd done this before and I never quite understood the amusement, but
Jenny was never one to be denied. I thought perhaps she enjoyed it as
a kind of a punishment for me, or possibly some sort of proof of my
devotion. She knew I didn't enjoy it. I stood up and pulled my skirt
down and fixed my blouse, gave Jenny a quick kiss and walked over to
the U-haul, leaning against it when the guy came back out of the
brownstone.

"Hi." He said when he saw me and he smiled. He really was pretty cute
for being a guy.

"Hi." I smiled too. "I'm Lisa, I saw you moving in."

"Right, yeah, I saw you there on the steps." He looked across the
street. "I'm Eric." He held out his hand, giving me the look, which I
didn't expect from a fag.

I touched him briefly with my fingertips. "That's my friend,
Jennifer." I gave a little nod. "We were wondering if you wanted some
lemonade, or iced tea or something." I smiled and looked him up and
down with my pretty brown eyes, giving him the same treatment he'd
just given me. "You look all hot and...bothered and stuff."

"Uh, yeah, well...Sure, some ice tea would be great."

I waited while he closed up his now empty trailer, locked his little
VW with a couple sharp beep-beeps, and we walked together back to
Jenny. He didn't seem like much of a twink to me. The guy was about 25
I'd guess, six feet tall with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, one
of those v-shaped guys with good toned muscles, not the bulging kind,
just well defined. His eyes were kind of gray, more than blue, and his
hair was short and black and a little wavy.

I'm not sure what he thought of Jen and I. I'm a 22 year old dancer
with the Greenwich Dance Troupe, rather smallish at 5'2" and 95lbs,
with perky little breasts, a tight little butt, and great legs. My
blonde hair is long and I wear it like a halo around my pretty face.
Jennifer is a playwright and a director for Lilith Unbound, a small
off-Broadway production company. She's 37 and an attractive brunette
with the most wonderful hazel eyes. She dresses down though, so it's
hard to tell she's got a real hard body. I've been with her almost
since I stepped off the bus 3 years ago.

"Eric, this is my friend, Jennifer." I introduced them and Jenny kind
of gave him a look when the guy extended his hand, but she took it
gracefully enough.

"It's nice to meet you." He gave her a smile calculated to weaken a
woman's knees, the same one he'd flashed at me, and I wondered if he
practiced it.

"Great." Jenny gave him a smile of her own, somewhat less friendly,
but just as calculated.

"I asked Eric if he'd like something cool to drink." I smiled too, not
wanting to feel out of place. "Come on, let's go inside."

I led the way, with the guy following and Jenny closing the door
behind us. "So what do you do, Eric?" I asked just to break the
awkward silence as we wandered through our living room and into the
kitchen.

"I go to school, Columbia." He replied, looking around. "Interesting
place you have here, kind of got the post modern neo-Goth thing
going."

"I like to call it medieval renaissance, personally." I giggled and
pushed through a beaded curtain into the kitchen. "Have a seat, iced
tea, right?"

"Yeah, thanks." He sat down and I could hear Jennifer in the other
room, fiddling with the stereo. The strains of 'A Valentine For Jesus'
filled our little townhouse, but that was just a prelude to the real
music.

I mixed a pitcher of instant and dropped a tray of ice cubes into it
while I told him about Jenny and myself. It didn't take long and I sat
down with him, pouring a glass for each of us.

"So you're a dancer, huh?" He sipped his tea and looked at my legs. "I
can see why." He nodded appreciatively. "Where's uh, Jennifer? Isn't
she going to join us?"

"Oh, she'll be along." I put a little more sugar in my glass, stirring
it slowly. "Do you have a girlfriend then, at this college of yours?"

The guy shook his head. "Nope, nah....I'm pretty much alone, still
looking." He gave me a little lift of his eyebrows. "How about you? Do
you have a boyfriend?"

I wondered if he was serious. "Nope, I'm...I never found the right guy,
I guess." I laughed at the thought.

"I bet you've broken some hearts though, huh?" He chuckled.

"Only when they deserved it." I smiled coquettishly and giggled.

"You know, I wouldn't mind." He said with just the right sort of soft
sincerity to make me ask.

"Mind what?"

"Risking a broken heart." His eyes were twinkling now. "Just to know
you better."

"Really?" I lowered my eyes demurely, letting a little blush come over
me.

"Yeah, I mean it, Lisa." He touched my hand, just the back of it with
his fingertips. "I think you're gorgeous."

"You don't know anything about me." I looked up and tilted my head a
little.

"I'd like to." He leaned forward. "I'd like to know you a lot better,
Lisa." I became aware of his legs close to mine, the cool texture of
his jeans against my bare thigh.

"I'd like that." I said softly, licking my lips.

The guy's hand was sliding along my forearm, back and forth, petting
me like a little kitten. "Would you like to go out, get some dinner
with me?"

"I have a better idea." I lifted my other arm, putting my hand on his
shoulder as I leaned forward so our lips were almost touching. "Would
you like to see my bedroom?" I whispered, closing my eyes nervously.

"Are you sure?" His hand squeezed my arm gently, just above my elbow
and I nodded.

"Yesss..." And I sighed as Eric kissed me finally, his tongue slipping
past my lips.

I led him to the spare bedroom Jennifer and I kept, having found such
a thing eminently desirable in the friendly bohemian atmosphere of our
careers. It was simple enough, with a brass daybed and trundle, a
small unfinished dresser, a desk with one of Jenny's old computers on
it, and numerous old black and white photos of women framed on the
wall. My favorite was a picture of Sonja Henie from her Olympic gold
medal performance. It was original and autographed, as were they all.
Jenny's, I think, was a photo of Margaret Sanger, caught in a candid
moment on the street.

I pulled the guy to the bed with me, so that he was on top of me,
kissing and touching. His hands were on my breasts, on my thigh,
sliding upward slowly and deliberately. I sucked at his tongue and
gave a small shiver as I felt him rubbing at my sex. His fingers felt
heavy and thick and clumsy and it was hard to concentrate.

"Wait...mmmm...hold on, can you...do something for me..." I breathed. My hand
moved across his chest, down to massage the full hardness pressing
like a knot against his jeans.

"What, Lisa...what do you need, baby?" He nuzzled my neck, sucking and
biting at my delicate flesh.

"I want to try something..." I was smiling and almost giggling as I
slipped away from him.

Eric rolled over, onto his back, smiling and catching his breath. "Oh,
what a tease!"

I went to the dresser and found what I wanted, holding them up and
grinning wickedly. "Please?" I asked softly. "If you let me do you,
I'll let you do me later!" I promised in a little sing-song voice.

"What a bad girl!" The guy laughed. "Just don't break my heart, okay?"

"I swear!" I unbuttoned my blouse, leaving it on, but exposing my hard
brown nipples. "Undress for me." I told him.

He moved slowly, confidently aware of how good his body was. The man
might be bi, I thought, but he definitely wasn't a twink. When Eric
pulled off his pants and then his briefs, exposing his very large and
semi-erect penis, I let out the expected gasp and he chuckled.

"You like it, baby?" He stroked it for me.

"Uhmmmm-hmmm...it looks delicious!" But I didn't waste time admiring it
for too awfully long.

I used the leather cuffs on the guy. It wasn't but a few moments
before his naked form was spread eagle on the bed, bound to the strong
brass frame of the bed. Eric struggled a little, just testing I think,
and he was surprised at how strong Velcro could be. He smiled up at me
expectantly and I reached under my skirt, pulling down my little pink
panties slowly while his eyes watched my hands. I held them up for a
moment and then wadded them into a ball for his mouth, pushing them
deeply so they were wedged in tightly.

I stepped back then, buttoning my blouse again, smoothing my skirt and
checking myself in the little mirror above the dresser. I ignored the
guy's muffled sounds of bewilderment and walked to the door, opening
it and calling for Jen.

She appeared a moment later. She looked at me and frowned slightly.
"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

I shook my head. "No, he was fine. But I don't think he's gay though."

Jen laughed. "No, I don't imagine he is." She glanced at him, seeing
Eric's wide eyes and hearing the bed creak and squeak as the guy tried
to free himself. Then she kissed me, hard, possessively, to show the
guy that she owned me utterly. Her hand went under my skirt, grabbing
my bare ass hard and making me groan.

After several long minutes, during which I practically melted into
Jen's embraced, she pushed me down "Lick me." She said, loud enough so
that Eric could hear.

I knelt and undid Jen's trousers, pulling them down and then her
panties, exposing her soft lightly furred sex. She pulled my head to
her, grinding her pussy against my tongue as I sucked and kissed and
licked. Jen was staring at the man, watching him watching us, and
smiling at him.

"So, you thought you could fuck my girlfriend, huh?" Jen chided the
guy. "Just smile and she'd bend right over for your big prick? Is that
what you thought?"

I heard some muffled sounds and I sucked Jen's clit until I felt her
fingernails digging almost painfully into my scalp. She reached down,
grabbing my skirt and pulling it up to expose my ass and then my
glistening shaved pussy as I spread my legs. Jen moved back so I was
forced to lean forward, wrapping my arms around her to keep from
falling face down on the carpet.

"After Lisa makes me cum, I'm going to cut off your balls." Jen's
voice was breathless and I giggled as I pinched her clitty between my
lips, knowing how that always affected her. "Oh...God!" Her knees were
starting to go and she rubbed my face up and down against her cunt as
she felt her orgasm coming quickly.

With a little cry, Jen's bittersweet juices seemed to pour out of her
and I pushed my tongue inside the woman quickly, feeling her vaginal
walls trembling with pleasure. I could always make Jen cum quickly if
I wanted her to, and having a man tied to the bed watching didn't hurt
either, it fed Jen's darkest fantasies.

I leaned back, giving the pussy I served one last kiss as Jen stroked
my wet and flushed cheek. I had her juices all over me, running down
my chin and even my neck. I sat smiling and breathing heavily while
Jennifer removed her pants and panties completely and walked over to
the bed.

"Oh look, Lisa." Jenny laughed. "He's so hard!" She pointed at the
guy's penis, standing rigidly at attention from his prone body. His
eyes were wide with fear and excitement, having just witness two
attractive women engaged in lesbian sex. "How typical."

"Maybe you should do something about that, Jen." I laughed too and
stood up, peeling off my skirt and losing my blouse so I was naked.

"Bad penis!" Jen spoke as if speaking to a dog. Then she slapped it
hard with her palm repeatedly. The guy on the bed struggled at this
rough treatment, pulling at the cuffs holding him tightly down on the
bed and attempting to turn his body away from Jennifer's hand.

"We can do whatever we want with you, guy." Jen was saying. "This is
Dyke Street, nobody cares what happens to a man around here. Even the
cops. If they send somebody it's gonna be a female. It's gonna be a
big blue bull and she's just going to fuck my girl and be on her way.
You know how I know that?" She smiled.

"Because it happened before." I nodded. "Officer Stevens...Mmmmm..." I
gave a little sigh thinking about the 5'11" black woman, all 170lbs of
her, squeezed almost impossibly into that sexy NYPD uniform. She'd
been taking the report on some homeless guy who'd up and died out on
the street, choked to death on his own penis. But Officer Stevens had
spent most of her time giving me the third degree on our living room
floor, much to Jennifer's amusement.

"Happened before." Jen echoed.

The guy's eyes were open real big and I could tell he was more than a
little nervous, as well he should be. But he was excited too, his cock
was still rigid, despite Jen's none to gentle attentions.

"I think he likes it." I crossed my arms over my chest looking down at
him. "Are you one of those masochist guys?"

"He looks like a pain slut." Jen nodded in agreement. "Probably a
closet case."

The guy was shaking his head and making some noises like he
desperately needed to tell us something important. But it could have
been the secret recipe for Kentucky Fried Chicken, we wouldn't have
cared.

"How about it, guy? Are you Goldilocks?" I laughed as he made little
sounds of confusion.

"Go get my tool box, Lisa, we'll get this over with." Jenny stared
down at the guy. "We're not going to kill you, we're just going to do
something about that little problem between your legs. If you're real
good, it won't even hurt." Jenny shrugged. "Well, not too much. But if
you're bad." She clucked her tongue. "Then it will hurt a lot. I
promise."

I went to the closet and found the big plastic fishing tackle box in
which we kept all the odd little tools we needed to fix things around
the house. I put it on the bed next to the guy and opened it for Jen.

"Let's see..." Jennifer teased him a little. "We have this." She held up
a ball peen hammer. "And this...What do they call these, Lisa?" She held
up some wire cutters.

"Dykes." I laughed.

"Oh yeah." Jen smiled and set them down. "And, oh! Here we go, nothing
like a box cutter to get to the bottom of things." She pushed the
blade out and we all examined it. "Looks a little dull, doesn't it?
Well, it'll work I think."

I went to the kitchen and got our big heavy wooden cutting board and
brought it back. The guy was being very quiet now, maybe hoping if he
was good we'd just smile and tell him we were teasing, then let him go
and everyone would have a good laugh. I slid the cutting board under
his balls, lifting them gently and spreading them nicely on the
scarred wood surface.

"Cut?" Jen held up the box cutters. "Or hammer?" She held up the
hammer.

The guy started squirming then, making a lot of muffled sounds of
protest, which we largely ignored.

"He was trying to fuck you, Lisa, so you pick." Jennifer smiled at me.

I looked at the guy and rubbed my nose thoughtfully. He had been kind
of nice, almost polite, but still...he had definitely tried to put that
thing inside me. "Hammer." I nodded.

The guy was bouncing up and down then, making the whole bed creak and
rattle and his eyes were big and pleading. I almost felt sorry for
him. "Oh, don't worry." I shushed him, grabbing his still hard penis
in my hand and stroking it. For a guy about to get his balls smashed
with a hammer, he certainly was keeping a very fine erection. "We're
just giving you a hard time. Nobody is going to hurt you, okay? Just
relax and we'll let you go, huh?"

He settled down a little and I kept massaging his prick, sitting on
the bed next to him while Jen sat on the other side of the guy,
nodding and smiling like it was all a big joke. His eyes closed and he
gave a weak sigh of relief through his nose. That was when Jen smashed
the hammer down on his balls as hard as she could, over and over and
over, while I held his cock and smiled happily into his suddenly
horrified and pain-filled eyes.

Jennifer had to do it hard because the bed absorbed a lot of the
energy, the cutting board bouncing a little under the rain of blows,
but pretty soon it was over. The guy had been screaming, although it
was muffled quite a lot by the panties stuffed deep in his mouth. Then
he'd cried a little and his body seemed to convulse. I think he would
have thrown up, except he couldn't with the gag in place. I suppose he
could have drowned on his vomit, that might have been interesting to
see. But he didn't. He just passed out.

The guy's balls actually held up pretty good, at least from the
outside. They didn't actually rupture externally or anything, but
after Jen was done and I took them in my hand it felt like they were
full of pudding. His cock had spurted a little semen, not a lot though
and it seemed slightly pinkish and of course he was totally limp now.
But I thought I could fix that.

His eyelids fluttered a bit and a throaty groan sounded in his chest
as he started coming back around.

"There, see?" Jen was smiling. "Now we can be neighbors and I won't
have to worry about you trying to fuck my muffin all the time."

I was stroking his cock slowly, trying to work it hard again. The guy
was dreadfully pale now, bathed in sweat and his eyes were lidded, as
if he was drugged. There was some wetness leaking from the tip,
pinkish and watery. I rubbed my thumb over it, wondering what it was,
while Jen put her tools away and picked up the cutting board.

"Are you going to play with him?" She asked me, and I thought her
voice sounded just a little sad. Jen had never, ever been with a man.
I had, once when I was 16, but I'd only been experimenting. But still,
it did make me a suspect, I knew.

"I just wanted to see if I could make him cum." I shrugged. "I bet it
would be pink." I giggled a little at the thought and Jen rolled her
eyes.

"Well, don't get too attached to him. As soon as he can walk we're
kicking him out." Jen gave him a last look and disappeared down the
hall.

The guy moaned and his eyelids fluttered a little more and then he
fell completely unconscious. I let go of his penis with a sigh,
resigning myself to the fact that he just wasn't going to ejaculate
one last time for my amusement. I contented myself with playing with
his balls, rather enjoying the mushy texture as I squeezed his testes
repeatedly.

A little while later I was back outside, sitting with Jenny on the
steps. The sun was going down and the street was relatively quiet. It
was our favorite part of the day and we sipped iced tea and smoked our
cigarettes and listened to some old Stones coming up through Delilah's
window.

"Who's that?" Jen elbowed my knee and I looked.

"I don't know."

She was with a friend. Two women, one dressed nice, like a lawyer or a
stock broker maybe. Tall with short black hair and fine, fine legs up
to the short hem of her business skirt. The other was shorter, a
little mousy thing with a button nose and pouting lips. She wore a
Yankees t-shirt over her large and unrestrained breasts. She was cute
and shy, it looked, almost terminal.

They were walking up to the guy's apartment, ringing the bell and
looking around. The tall woman stared at us, the smaller one looked up
and down the street. After a few minutes they walked over.

"Hello." The woman in the suit said, smiling at us in turn. "I'm
Kathy."

"Hi. I'm Jenny and this is my girlfriend, Lisa." Jenny didn't move so
neither did I.

"Nice to meet you." Kathy glanced at her companion. "This is my
friend, Samantha."

"Just Sam." The girl, who couldn't have been more than 18 I thought,
smiled apologetically and nodded. "Hi."

We nodded back as Kathy looked across the street at the guy's
apartment. "You, uh...you haven't seen the guy driving that yellow bug,
have you? Tall, black hair, good looking?" She looked back searching
our faces.

"Carrying a violin case?" I asked.

"Viola." Samantha spoke quickly. "It's a viola. I go to Julliard."

"That was your viola?" Jen asked.

"He's my brother, Eric. He's helping us move in, Sam and I, and uh, he
was supposed to be here. I see my car and the u-haul but..."

"That's your Volkswagen?" I asked, suddenly feeling very unhappy.
"You're moving in and not..." I swallowed, "...your brother?"

Samantha giggled and Kathy gave her a look, the same kind Jen would
have given me and I understood their relationship immediately.

"Of course he's not moving in." Kathy gave me a little look. "This is
Dyke Street, isn't it?"

"We've been waiting months for a place to open up here." Samantha
leaned a little closer to Kathy and the older woman put an arm around
the girl protectively.

"Ever since Sammi moved in with me." Her voice was full of affection
for the girl. "My apartment in Midtown is so small..."

Samantha nodded. "But this will be perfect and Eric is so nice to us.
He's straight, but he's so understanding about everything." She looked
into my eyes and smiled. "I hope he comes back soon, so we can
introduce you guys to him!"

the end
rache696@yahoo.com

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