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From: J <autoeroticrobot@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Wow Thanks Chp. 3
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Date: Mon, 11 Dec 2006 19:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "thanks03.txt" begin>

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by the author unless explicitly waived.  Non-commercial re-posts
to ASSM or similar venues are allowed provided copyright information
remains on the re-posted story.  As a courtesy to the author please do not
delete the copyright information.  No commercial reprints are authorized.

   The author enjoys feedback and comments:
autoeroticrobot[at]yahoo[dot]com. ...Or look me up in Second Life: avatar
Fnugus Abismo.
WARNING: This story depicts consensual sexual activity between men and
women, or women and women.  Some of the fictional participants in the

story may be under the age of 18.

   Wow Thanks (MFf, exhib, voy, inc, cons) by autoeroticrobot

   Chapter 3.  Caught, and the Game Gains a Player.

   In the same email where she asked to stop the game, however, Denise also
asked (sort of off-handedly, it seemed) if I ever chatted via instant
message, and if so, what was my username - she said that her username was
the same as her email address.

   I knew this, of course, and had even seen her online, many times.  I
had, however, decided to try to avoid appearing pushy or "stalkerish," and
so I had never mentioned it and had remained committed to not pressing my
luck, unless she invited.  And...  this seemed to be a sort of invite.

   The next day, mid-morning, I was working at my computer (ok, I was
surfing the internet, reading stories on alt.sex.stories, not actually
working), when I saw her name go active in the yahoo messenger.  Long ago,
I had created a username for myself to match my authorial pseudonym, and
so, thinking quickly, I now logged in under it.  Somewhat trepidatiously, I
sent her a message.

   She was more receptive than I'd hoped - she was quite friendly and
apologetic about "what had happened." I didn't pursue the subject, as I
sensed her reticence, and I didn't want to seem nosy or pushy.  After a bit
of awkward smalltalk (about the weather - I'd told her where I lived, a
sufficiently large metropolitan area that I had no worries she'd imagine it
was her brother).

   After a little while, though, she suddenly volunteered that she felt
like she needed to explain what had so upset her, and what had caused her
to want to stop.  So she began to tell me what had happened,.

   Lissa, her daughter (who, she explained via IM, had just turned 14 -
another one of those eerily confirming personal details, as if I still
harbored doubts, but for some reason, I thought of it exactly that way, as
a "real" confirmation), had apparently decided that her mom was "acting
strangely" lately, and had therefore gotten nosy.

   Unfortunately, it hadn't taken much for Denise to "get caught" - she
said that, regrettably, she'd been stupid enough to 1) print out copies of
the emails we'd been trading, and 2) leave the large pink dildo lying with
them.

   So, the fact was, Lissa hadn't even had to nose around by logging on to
her mom's computer.  It had all been out there "for inspection," as she
explained: Lissa found
the emails and the "giant dildo" in the top drawer of her mom's computer

desk in the home-office/den - I could visualize the desk and den clearly,
and I had a stunningly intense vision of my niece Melissa popping open the
drawer and hefting the pink object with an expression of combined curiosity
and disgust on her face.

   Of course, Denise might never have known what Lissa had discovered if
she hadn't walked in on her daughter as she was "inspecting the evidence."
Placed on the defensive, she'd confronted her mother, and seemed very
upset, indeed.

   Denise went into some detail on her "fight" with her daughter, in which
Melissa threw at her an accusation that Denise was, in fact, engaging in
the exact sort of "risky behavior" that would have left Lissa "grounded for
life" - i.e.  Denise was chatting about sex with strangers from the
internet.

   It had, as mother-daughter confrontations often do, lead to a very
tearful and heartfelt talk, but the conclusion Denise had reached, though
frustrating for her, was that she should stop the game.

   I agreed during our IM conversation that it would be awkward to
continue. And I really did believe that - it was simply too weird and
inappropriate to move forward.  "At least for now," I added in an
unrealistically hopeful parenthesis.  And so, that's where it lay.

   -.:.Over the next month or so, Denise and I continued to share an
occasional email,
but things were oddly vacant, and definitely quite impersonal, after the

intensity of those weeks.  Then, two weeks before thanksgiving, I got a
short email from Denise in which she said she had a "serious question," and
to IM her sometime.

   Later that night, I saw her come online, and so I sent her a hello.  She
began by saying not to take anything she said the wrong way, but that she
had something that was bothering her, and she felt she could talk to me
about it "safely."

   "What's up?" I asked.

   She digressed, saying that she'd recently discovered my "other" story -
the earlier one (involving the incestual game of truth or dare).  I was
surprised, thinking she'd known about both of them all along.

   "No," she said, and, added that in fact, she might not have emailed me
in the first place, if she'd seen the earlier one.  Uh oh, I thought.

   "Please, just hear me out," she went on.  She said her first reaction
was that it was very "gross" and that it was inappropriate.  But then, she
said, she realized she was a hypocrite.

   Hm, this was going to be interesting, I thought.  "Why's that?" I asked.


   "Here's what happened," she continued.  About a week after Lissa
discovered her "secret life," her daughter had come to her, and confessed
that it was she who'd made Denise's other dildo "disappear" - the one
Denise had told me had gone missing some months back.  Further, Lissa said
that she had been "thinking about things," and had decided that it wasn't
fair for her to not let her mom "have fun" and that she [Lissa] felt like a
hypocrite.

   The catch was - and apparently it took quite a while to get Lissa to
explain to Denise what she was getting at - Lissa had decided that if mom
was to be allowed to "play," then it was only fair that Lissa should be
allowed to play, also.

   "What in the world do you have in mind?" Denise quoted herself as asking
her daughter, and continued her self-quote, "I don't think people like Finn
are easy to find." ("Finn" was the name I'd given her as my "real" name -
something to go behind my authorial pseudonym from the alt.sex.stories
newsgroup.)

   She went on to tell Lissa that Finn probably "wasn't safe," for that
matter.  Basically, Denise trying to admit that the risk had, in fact, been
unacceptable, and that Lissa had been right to challenge her on it.

   But Lissa had asked, earnestly, "it seems like you do trust him, don't
you, mom?" Denise had nodded, yes.  More talk, more protestations, and
finally, net result was, Lissa basically had asked to be allowed to "play
too." Meaning what?  "Finn could give us BOTH tasks," she insisted to her
mom.  "Finn," of course, meaning me - Denise's brother.  Whoa.

   Denise continued her narration: she had felt angry, once she understood
what Lissa was getting at.  Outraged.  "No way," she'd insisted.  There was
something just too weird about doing sexual dares "as a mother-daughter
team or something."

   Denise paraphrased her daughter at length, then:

   "Don't be a hypocrite, mom," Lissa had argued.  "Don't you think it
would be a great way for me to have some fun, in a relatively safe way? 
I'm a pretty shy girl, no guy has asked me on a date (not that I wanted to
date those stupid guys from school, anyway, and not that you would let me,
right?), but I'm 14.  I'm a curious, normal, teenager, and of course my
hormones are out of control."

   To be honest, I was surprised at the maturity of the dialogue (assuming
it was being accurately reported), considering it was between mother and
teenaged daughter.  But I reflected that it was only to be expected - I
knew Denise was a committed, decent, but liberal-minded parent.

   Denise reported further, Lissa saying, "At least this way, you'd know I
wasn't sneaking out on you, behind your back, or doing dangerous stuff with
guys you didn't even know about, like some other girls do.  And I could get
to have some fun, and experience some cool stuff.  Right?"

   Finally, Denise summarized: as things stood, the answer from her to her
daughter was still a resounding NO.  She'd not even indicated it was open
to discussion, and Lissa was "off sulking," according the her mother's
description.  That had been nine days ago.

   But, meanwhile, Denise had nevertheless been giving it some hard
thought. Also, Lissa had been not-so-subtly pressuring...  saying things
like "don't you wish you had a hot little task today, mom?" or even, "I
sure am horny, mom."

   Denise claimed to be shocked at these displays of frankness from her
"randy 14 year old," although she observed, "I remember being 14, though -
unfortunately, it's not like I can't relate." She admitted, also, to being
"almost persuaded" by her daughter's persistent "perversion."

   So, after all this long narration, Denise had for me, first of all, a
question that was troubling her conscience: was she a "pervert psycho" (as
she put it), for having a large part of her that found the situation
appealing?  Exciting, even?  Was it incest, for a mother and daughter to
engage in sexual "tasks" (however "hands-off" they might be with respect to
each other) that had been "assigned" by the same man?  Where might it lead?


   And that's the question that had been torturing her for the last week,
until she she'd discovered my "other" story.  Which of course was strangely
apropos.  And what my other story had helped her realize is that maybe she
wasn't so perverted after all.  "I mean, compared to what you describe,
this thing with Lissa doesn't seem so twisted," she said.  Gee, thanks a
lot, I thought.  But I admit I was, even then, excited by where this was
going - what a wild situation, indeed.

   So now, for the last two days, Denise had been wondering if maybe, just
maybe, she should give it a shot.  Meaning: her and Lissa, both doing
tasks. "What do you think, Finn?" she wrote in the IM window.  "Would you
be willing, or is it simply too weird for even a confessed pervo like
yourself to take on?" Hmm, if you put it like that, dear sister....  if you
only knew.

   I tried not to betray my eagerness - though what healthy,
self-respecting internet perv worth his salt wouldn't be eager, at such a
situation?  I was noncommittal in my reply (still via IM).  Basically, I
told her "I think this is your call, Denise," but I added that I didn't
think it was necessarily wrong, in principle.  Very vague, very
cultural-relativistic.  That was the end of that conversation, as she had
to go.

   Then the next day I got a new email.  It was from Lissa, using her mom's
address.

   I should admit, here, that a part of me wondered strongly, at this
juncture, whether Denise, in fact, was just developing an elaborate fantasy
(as I'd been known to do myself, at least in one-nighter IM situations,
where I had all kinds of things "happen" to me, that didn't really happen).

   Still, I found myself philosophizing....  even if it is a fantasy, it is
nevertheless my very real, non-fantastical sister's quite perverted
fantasy. I felt deeply compelled to run with it, and to play along. 
Perhaps I even convinced myself, in my compartmentalizing imagination, that
it surely WAS just her fantasy, as this gave me a way of avoiding the guilt
involved at involving an innocent (and minor, for crissakes!) in our little
game.

   Nevertheless, from that moment, I began, suddenly, to mull the
possibility that I'd actually have the opportunity to "test" whether it was
Denise's fantasy or really happening, soon enough, when I went to visit
them, at thanksgiving.

   In her email, Lissa introduced herself, described herself (quite
accurately), and said her mom was "sitting right next to me." When she's
grown, she'll probably fill out and be a bit stocky like her mom, but she's
currently quite petite, and has got a whithery, asian cast from her dad's
side: a pixyish, lovely girl.  5 ft tall, A-cup

   breasts.

   Still a virgin, she explained, and basically "completely inexperienced"
with guys, she admitted, though she's kissed a few, and yes, she'd let them
feel her up a bit.  "But I love how guys look at me now, and flirting and
stuff.  I have a healthy sex appetite" she wrote, "I masturbate every day,
especially since I found mom's dildo, last May, and even more since I found
the emails her and you were sending to each other.  They really turn me
on." My god, this was my 14 year old niece writing me this, I thought.  And
with her mother's permission.  At least, that's what Denise wanted me to
believe.

   Wow.  So they wanted me to give them tasks, just like I had been giving
to just Denise, before.  I wrote back a little note, saying how amazed I
was being invited to participate in this, and jokingly added "I think I'm
the luckiest internet perv in the world, right now."

   Then I asked them, what kind of boundaries or rules there should be, and
also, did they want "synchronized" tasks, or separate ones?  Meaning, did
they want to each have the same task each day, or separate tasks "in
parallel," or did they wish to take turns?

   Denise wrote back that they would play the "boundaries issue" by ear -
she'd let me know if something wasn't a good idea, or if Lissa didn't want
to do something or whatever.  She also suggested that, at first, anyway,
they would like to "take turns" - even though that meant they'd each have
to take a day off between each task, and she understood I probably wouldn't
"let" them masturbate on their "off" days, which would be difficult, of
course, for two women accustomed to daily gratification.  So how about an
initial task for Lissa for tomorrow (a Friday)?

   I thought about what Lissa's initial task should be.  On the one hand,
she was completely "fresh," in the sense she'd never done anything like
this before, by her own admission.  Or even much of anything more
conventional, sexually, either, with the exception of some basic
masturbation.  On the other hand, she'd already seen, in great detail, the
tasks I'd given her mom, and, Denise had revealed, she had also read both
my stories.  So she wasn't exactly na�ve, either.

   Finally, I wrote back that, first of all, Denise had guessed correctly
that a basic rule of the game was that as long we were playing, they
weren't to "touch" themselves, except as part of a task (or to stay clean,
of course).  But, I said, I would be generous, and allow each of them 10
minutes a day of masturbation, in the mornings of their "off" days, but
ONLY without orgasm.  And only in the morning, before getting up.  If they
missed their chance, they weren't allowed to "make it up" later in the day.

   Then, I assigned to Lissa the following simple task: she was to spend a
day without bra or panties, under whatever clothes she preferred, then she
was to come home and masturbate to orgasm, and then send me an email about
it.

   Her reply had a nonchalant tone, but was detailed.  She had worn some
lowrider jeans she liked, and explained how they rubbed against her
pantiless crotch and made her horny and irritated.  And she wore a t-shirt
and a sweatshirt over that, so "my nips didn't really show - normally they
stick out pretty a lot, kind of like mom's." But she felt sexy, she said,
and she came really hard when she masturbated when she got home.  And so,
she concluded almost eagerly, what was mom's task for the next day?

   Her mom's task, for Saturday, was to go with Lissa shopping at the mall,
and to go into a dressing room and strip completely naked at least for a
minute and play with herself.

   Lissa could "stand guard," I explained, and I commented that having two
them actually made for a lot more interesting possibilities, since I could
have one always serve as "lookout" or run interference if necessary while
other did her task - this was a feature I'd exploited extensively in my
"tease club" story.

   Denise wrote back that same night, agreeing that she was already "very
much liking" the team aspect of it, and not only was she quickly getting
over being disturbed that her partner in crime was her 14 year old
daughter, but was possibly developing a "much closer, more adult
relationship with my teenage daughter than I'd have thought attainable only
a few weeks ago."

   She thanked me for being understanding, and for being sufficiently
"perverted" to be willing to play along.  Wow, I was being thanked for
being a pervert, I thought - that's a new one.  And wonderful.

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