Message-ID: <55883asstr$1179461401@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Path: e65g2000hsc.googlegroups.com!not-for-mail From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <1179454952.514892.65360@e65g2000hsc.googlegroups.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 18 May 2007 02:22:32 +0000 (UTC) User-Agent: G2/1.0 X-HTTP-UserAgent: Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Windows NT 5.1; en-US; rv:1.8.1.3) Gecko/20070309 Firefox/2.0.0.3,gzip(gfe),gzip(gfe) Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com Injection-Info: e65g2000hsc.googlegroups.com; posting-host=124.6.164.23; posting-account=qBK25Q0AAACTpvYY3RGCixMIsuvRRKwm X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 17 May 2007 19:22:32 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} The Secret Way of It (F/MFb, Femdom, Pedo, Violent, Humil, NC, Rape, Blood, Fant, Incest, Caution) Lines: 619 Date: Fri, 18 May 2007 00:10:01 -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/Year2007/55883> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: Sagittaria, dennyw The Secret Way of It Copyright 2007 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for adults only. Story Codes: F/MFb, Femdom, Violent, Humil, NC, Rape, Blood, Fant, Incest, Caution Author's note: This story will become clear later. -rr The Secret Way of It by rache "Hi mom." I offered her a smile and she looked at me for a moment, and then kissed me, smoothing my hair from my eyes, looking at me while she talked, the way a mother will because it's in her blood. And she hasn't seen me in a long time. "Keri." My dad was there, already holding his drink, maybe his third or fourth since it was afternoon, and it was better that way for both of us. "I barely recognize you." "I know." I smiled weakly and shrugged. "She hasn't changed." My mom said, making it clear that she wished I had. And my aunt's where there, the three wicked step-sisters, but not so wicked anymore. Not since I'd grown up and escaped their clutches, and truthfully they'd never been wicked at all, but I'd liked to tease them anyway. My mom was Cinderella, of course. They had to have their kisses too. Cousins numbered eight, nieces four, nephews two, and the odd brother and sister as well. I had a couple of each, somewhere. Our annual family reunion was underway and of course the big surprise, the real showstopper was me. Because I had been gone for so long. "So, how's college?" My Aunt Steffi asked, she of the blue hair and pearl earrings the size of tennis balls. You know the type. "I graduated five years ago, Aunt Steffi." I smiled. "But last I heard it was still standing." "Well of course you did!" My Aunt Fiona, was smiling, chomping at the bit for a little news. "You graduated with honors and now, what is it that you do exactly?" "I'm a therapist." I nodded. "Yes, a therapist." The third step-sister, Meredith, informed us. "She's a doctor." "I knew that!" Aunt Steffi frowned. "She always wanted to be a doctor." "A specialist!" Fiona agreed happily. "Uh, right." I wasn't a doctor, but it was easier to agree, believe me. They would tag-team me like that for as long as I could stand it. One asking a question, the next agreeing, and the last embellishing. It was the way legends were born in my family and by the end of the week I'd be Dr. Keri so far as everyone was concerned. It was inevitable now. "Hi there." A man was smiling at me, younger than my 31 years, maybe 25 I guessed, and handsome the way the men in my family are. Strong brown eyes, square jaw and sensual lips. "Hey." I grabbed a diet soda out of a barrel full of ice. "Want one?" "No thanks." He smiled. "I've got one." He held up his Michelob. "Sure." I brushed a lock of black hair out of my eyes. I most closely resembled my mother, but all the women in my bloodline looked much the same, generally. I had long black hair, blue eyes and vaguely oriental some thought, with high cheekbones and a wide, inviting mouth. I was tall for the women of my family, just a few inches shy of six feet, and nicely proportioned with a narrow waist and hips, and full breasts. I was considered very attractive, a fact I'd come to appreciate and even use to my advantage from time to time. But occasionally being pretty and single could lead to complications and I tried to avoid those. "I don't think we've met before." He held out his hand. "I'm Eric." "We've met." I smiled at him. "Twelve years ago, you watched me take a shower through the bathroom window." "Riiiight." He licked his lips. "Well...I was a kid." He chuckled like that made all the difference, and I suppose it did. He dropped his hand finally as I'd plainly ignored it. I started walking away. "You're not gonna hold that against me are you?" He caught up. "Look uh, Cousin Eric...We're cousins, right? I'm really beat. It was a long flight, so...I'm just gonna sit in the shade, okay?" "Sure, right." He nodded, letting me go. "Bitch." And that was me all over. Keri the Bitch. I took a deep breath and made my way towards a tree, one of many in my parents' big back yard. It was a small ranch actually, but all they had were some horses. I'd grown up riding, but I hadn't been very good at it. I didn't like animals much, and they didn't care for me either. It very much resembled my relationship with people, which made me wonder what I was doing here. As if I'd forget. "Hmmm...Look who's here." My sister Denise sat down next to me, leaning against the tree, her shoulder against mine. "I thought you were dead." I took a drink of my soda. "That's what everyone thought." She laughed. "Some of them are disappointed." "Yeah." I nodded at that. "I thought you were gone to California or someplace." "I was." My younger sister shrugged. "I got divorced." "That's the worst, isn't it." I said, not asking a question. "What? Divorce?" "No." I pursed my lips. "That we always end up coming back." "Oh." Denise sighed. "Keri." My older sister appeared then, Helena, arms crossed and pouting. "Lane." I tilted my head. "You look the same" She said and I started smiling. "No, I mean it. You look...exactly the same." "Magic." I shrugged, wanting to change the subject. "Still getting abortions?" "Nope." She popped her P like bubblegum "Still being a bitch?" "Yep." I popped mine too. "What'd you come back for?" Helena asked me. "Nobody misses you." "So I'd never have to do it again." I smiled at her. Somebody missed me though. "Keri." He was smiling, like I knew he would be, and he was the only reason I'd come back. I let him hug me, taking me into his arms, and just holding me. Not too tight, not too long, but just perfectly. "Hi Wren." I stepped back after kissing his cheek. "You look good." "Me?" He smiled and looked down. "Yeah well, my tailor is an old guy. He's got a reputation to protect, you know." "Sure." I laughed softly. "But look at you. Mmmm...there's nothing there but you." He looked me from head to toe and back, not undressing me, nothing like. Just admiring me honestly, and I liked it. "I got your invitation." I said, taking his arm in mine and walking away from the others, across the lawn. "Obviously." "Well, I didn't think mom and dad would send you one." He shrugged. "I'm glad you came." "Me too." I nodded. "I've been thinking about what you said." "What? In my email?" "Yeah." Wren walked slowly, which suited me. "I want to see you anyway. Ever since I saw that..." "Wren." I sighed. "I meant what I said. You're my brother and I love you, I do. I don't want to hurt you..." "But I want you to." He smiled at me. "I mean, I understand, you're my sister, so we can't...Can I be vulgar?" I laughed at him and we stopped walking, facing each other in the late afternoon sun. "I want to fuck you again, Keri." "We did it once." I looked into his brown eyes. "We were kids, it was a long time ago." "We did it more than once." He chuckled softly. "It should have been once." I looked down. "I've never forgotten." He was staring at me. "Neither have you. I know you haven't." I didn't say anything, I just started walking. "Didn't Byron say 'In her first love, a woman loves her lover'..." "...'In all others all she loves is love.' Yeah," I smiled, "he did." "I was your first." He took my arm again. "And I was yours, Wren." I licked my lips. "And I've told you I love you, how many times?" "We can leave. Right now." He squeezed my hand. "I'm rich." I giggled. "Come on, Keri...Don't make me beg!" He was laughing. "What do you want from me?" "It's what I do..." I said gently. "I make people beg, you know that." "Then make me beg, fine." "You didn't think I was serious, did you?" I grinned at him, pulling my hair back as a breeze blew up around us. "I saw the pictures." "But you didn't think I was serious, or you'd know what I want. You'd know why I'm here." "Will you marry me, Keri?" He asked, stopping us again, and he pulled a ring from his pocket, no box, nothing like that, just a large diamond solitaire in a gold setting. "You're my brother." I looked down at it. "So? That's not important." He reached with his other hand, cupping my chin so I'd lift my eyes to his. "Will you marry me?" I searched his face for a long moment, feeling some small excitement, but not overwhelming me. I'd never been given over to passion, at least not without just cause, and this was more cerebral than visceral. It wasn't the first ring I'd been offered. "Do you really want what you're asking for?" I asked gently, but I gave him no time to answer. I was weary of my disguise. "Ask me properly, and I'll consider it." I told him, and my voice had taken an edge. My brother swallowed hard and nodded and he didn't look to see who was around us, who might be watching, which pleased me. It showed how serious he was at least, because he was Wren, and I had my doubts. "Mistress, may I serve as your husband?" He was on the ground, in his expensive silk suit, kneeling and prostrating himself as he kissed the toes of my black leather slings. "Give me that pathetic ring." I held out my hand and he placed it carefully on my open palm, keeping his head down, and just lifting his eyes far enough to see what he was doing. "Do you know what I'll do with this?" "I'll wear it for you gladly, Mistress." "You'll wear it through your useless cock." I told him. "Yes Mistress." "I'll make you hate me." I warned him. "If you wish it, Mistress." "I'll make you loath the day you set eyes on me, you little cocksucking bitch." "If you command it, Mistress." "Get on your back...Lick the shit from my heel, you filthy cunt." I held the bottom of my right shoe over Wren's face, forcing him to lift his head and extend his tongue if he wanted to please me. My heart was beating faster, and I could see our assorted family stopped as if frozen on that perfect earth, looking at us from their happy little lives. I licked my lips and gathered my saliva, spitting on my brother's face as he stared up at me. "I'll give you three days, Wren." I told him. "But only because I love you." "Thank you, Mistress." He breathed, but I was already gone, making my way towards what remained of my family, which is to say nothing. And then through them as they parted with shared looks and whispers. "What was all thaaa...yeeooow!" Brave Cousin Eric went to his toes as I grabbed his balls in my fist, squeezing hard and yanking them up and out, drawing a thin gasp from the people around us. "Your daughter is dead." I stared briefly at my mother. "Grieve for her." I turned my back to them all, letting go of the man and knowing I'd never see any of these people again. They were sheep and I'd ever been the wolf in their midst and they would be much relieved when I was gone. Except one...Maybe. I looked at the ring briefly, frowning as I'd planned on turning him away completely. Instead I'd given him three days to come to his senses and change his mind. "Wren...Wren..." I sighed, starting my rental and pulling out of the drive. "Why do I love you?" I'd almost forgotten him. Almost, but in truth he was with me always. Ever since that day when I was 15 and he was all of 17 and we'd made love that first time. I couldn't say whose idea it was, his or mine, but neither of us had anything but desire. I wanted him so badly then, in those years. He was the only one with intelligence, the only one with the wit to understand what I tried to express. He was my first and only love. My Wren. I returned to the dark, to my city, which I loved. I'd graduated with a master's degree in psychology, doing my post graduate work on sadomasochism and fetish behavior in misanthropic personas. I might have continued towards my doctorate, but I'd learned as much as I needed, and I'd been anxious to begin. Wren had found me through the internet, which is to say he'd been both persistent and imaginative in his efforts to find me and I had little doubt that he'd spent no small amount of money in the process. I wasn't very easy to find and most of my family really had believed I was dead, my sister hadn't been joking. I was a professional Dominatrix, which only means I earned some money performing services for those few clients who could afford it, and even some who couldn't. The nature of the beast held far more appeal for me than anything else. Which is why Wren plagued me so dearly. I should have accepted him eagerly, as the ultimate corruption, which was my own very particular interest. But I didn't and that was love, an emotion that vexed me as no other. Fear held no great mysteries for me, nor did anger or joy. Even hate was a simple thing and well defined within the boundaries of my passionate analysis. But love. He was the only one, the only thing I'd ever given myself to, my darling Wren, and now he was mine for the taking. I could pluck him from the vine and sate my thirst with his blood, if I so desired. Or set him loose and be...lonely. I hadn't been giving him three days to change his mind, I knew he wouldn't. I'd been giving myself that time to turn him away. To reject him utterly and perhaps save what part of me was still pure and innocent and 15 years old. That I needed time at all however, I wasn't comfortable with that and I determined to forget him for the moment.=- =-=-=-=-=-=-= Eve was there, at the airport to meet me. She wore only a coat, a dark Burberry buttoned tight to her delicate neck, black stiletto heels and sunglasses, with her long blonde hair pinned up neatly. She looked famous, for no other reason than she was beautiful and aloof. People stared at her as she stood alone and Eve ignored them studiously as I approached, finally handing her my bag so we could walk together slowly. "Open your coat." I told her, once we were in the back of our hired limousine. The partition was up and the dull sound of tires on pavement was the only sound. Her body was flawless, but for the bruises and bites that covered her body in odd and random places. There were dozens, some old and fading, others new and weakly scabbed from her recent bath. Eve submitted without a sound, removing her sunglasses and her ice blue eyes watched mine. She licked her lips and arched her back as I took her in my arms, bending my mouth to her right breast, biting into the fatty tissue hard, so that she stiffened against me and jerked instinctively as if she might escape. But I was holding her tightly and the rich taste of her blood filled my mouth so that I drank her in small quick swallows. "Spread your legs." I breathed after several minutes, my white teeth stained red and my tongue dripping with the girl's flavor. Her pale skin was painted now, blood running down the succulent curve of her breast to her stomach, drawn inward and trembling. "Wider, bitch." I slapped her pussy hard with my hand and a soft sobbing sound escaped her luscious lips. They were ripe and soft as the pulp of a pomegranate and I held my urge to bite them, kissing her quickly instead in an effort to catch that small pain. "Yes Mistress." She whispered and she opened her long legs for me, so that I could inspect her cunt. I'd infibulated her several days before, removing tissue, mainly the dermal layers from her inner labia and then suturing the small wounded lips together. A short length of surgical tubing would define an opening less than the diameter of my little finger for her urine and menses to pass. It was something I'd long promised her, from the moment we'd met, and Eve had accepted it willingly as one small proof of her love. "If you've lost your stitches..." I breathed, pulling gently at her labia major, her swollen outer lips to expose the interior. I might very well have pulled one myself with that little slap to her sex, but that also would be her fault, not mine. "Did you use the antibiotic ointment?" "Yes Mistress." She nodded quickly, her body shaking and blood running slowly from the fresh bite I'd made on her breast. "Okay." I nodded finally, letting go of her sex and sitting back. "Entertain us now." "Come away, come away, death..." Eve whispered, her eyes fixed on mine, moving to meet me. "...And in sad cyprus let me be laid..." I pulled the young woman to me, for she was no more than 17 then, and closed my eyes as she recited favored passages from Twelfth Night in her soft, quailing voice. She'd been an actress once, a young and aspiring one attending the Manhatten High School of Performing Arts, and she was hardly famous, but very talented nonetheless. I'd chosen her for her voice, after she'd offered herself.I hadn't been looking for her, it was Eve who had found me, as they always do; and Eve was my only lover currently. Sometimes I had several, other times none at all, at that time I had Eve and I'd infibulated her largely to see the expression in her eyes as what I'd once promised became reality. She could have refused, I wasn't in the habit of forcing anyone to become my slave, or my lover, but that point was past. Eve was mine to do with as I pleased now, for that was what pleased her, and I took careful notes to understand why that should be so. I'd question her at times, or merely observe Eve's behavior, and she was delightful puzzle and I very much hoped I wouldn't tire of her before I solved it. I kept several apartments and we were going to Midtown, the most private of them and a gift, as so many of my things were. I needed time alone. Time to think, but mostly I needed to rest and revive myself. I possessed many talents, many useful abilities, but they most often came at a price. I'd spent too long in the sun and for what? Vanity I suppose, the odd thrill of proving my family wrong, of seeing Wren once more. It was foolish and I was weak because of it, in the place where weakness invites suffering and death. I had been dead. For a day or two at the most. I'd been 19 then, and so I appeared now, unchanged and obviously so. Enough that mother had worried over it, my father and sister as well. But that was the nature of the thing, of the darkness, it changed us on the inside, and left us beautiful forever without. The man who'd killed me was gone, a nomad who'd kept me as his lover exactly one year and a one day, before loosing me on the world. I was his gift, he'd told me, his parting offer to a city that he loved. It was Nicolai's humor I missed most. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "In your bedroom, Mistress." Eva nodded, closing the front door of the apartment and locking it, setting the bolts and turning on the alarm. I left her there, finding my way in the dark for the sun had set while we'd ridden in that car and I didn't need a light, except to see him most clearly. He was in my bedroom, as she'd said, on my bed and sleeping. A boy, a child really, perhaps 12 years old. Thin and naked, scrubbed clean and painted, his cheeks rouged, and his nipples as well, for Eva truly enjoyed that and she knew I wouldn't mind. His hairless balls and smallish penis were wrapped, bound I should say with thin cord to his ankles, the line going between his thighs and past his anus and up, so that his knees were bent and his heels very nearly touching his smooth round buttocks. The boy's hands were likewise pulled back, and tied to his feet as well, so that he lay on his side facing me, trussed up like a Christmas turkey, plucked and tucked and ready to be fucked. He'd been crying previously, I could tell. The pillows were damp with his tears and spittle. His nose crusted with old snot. He was done crying now, sleeping uncomfortably and gathering his strength so he could renew his struggles later. He would struggle no more beyond this evening. I untied him gently and he stirred awake, stretching his arms and legs, arching his back, making those soft noises that sound so sweet to our hearts. I reached for the nightstand, reaching inside... "Who are you?" He asked me, blinking in the soft light of the bedside lamp. "Where's my mom?" "I'm going to call you Wren." I looked over my shoulder, standing now as I undressed. "My name's not Wren, it's..." "Shhh..." I smiled at him and sighed. "You mustn't speak unless I tell you to." "I want to go home." His lower lip trembled, but he didn't want to cry and he was watching me closely, seeing my body now. I wondered if he would get an erection, he seemed so young, and his cock and balls were swollen and darkly red from their recent bondage. But his testes were not dead, Eva had been careful with him as always, he was merely uncomfortable as fresh blood poured back into the starved tissue. "I know." I nodded, looking down as I put on my penis, a large red dildo, very firm, and not the sort of toy designed for pleasure so much as violent penetration. It curved upward, and it was very smooth, tapering to a long tip, not sharp exactly, but pointed and quite unlike a real penis in that regard. It would rend his anus easily, like the child was made of paper, and such images excited me. He was starting to get up, but the door was locked, he had no clothes and I could smell his fear. He was unsteady on his legs, no doubt feeling pins and needles as he moved stiffly about the room. I cinched the straps tight about my narrow waist, pulling the small bit of rubber that was molded to the base deep into my sex, I was wet already and those few inches inside me felt good and I would ride them to orgasm many times before we were done. It was a wonderful design, holding my phallus strong and steady even as it promised me pleasure from that impending rape. "You may scream, if you want, Wren." I whispered, capturing the child easily in my arms as he tried to open the door. I turned him around, so that he was facing me, my phallus against his soft stomach and I kissed him, forcing his preteen mouth open with my tongue. When he resisted I took his small cock and balls in my hand, all of his genitals at once, and squeezed him hard so that he did scream and I worked my tongue deep into his mouth, drinking his pain. His hands pushed at me, small fists on my arms and shoulders. He tried kicking and he even bit my tongue, hard enough so that I bled, and the sudden bitter chill shocked him I think, so that the child let go of me with his teeth. I slapped him hard then, across his face with my palm and then again with the back of my hand, snapping his head back and forth. I spat blood in his face and smiled, licking my lips as he cried. I held him by his thick brown hair and punched him, hard in the mouth, feeling his teeth breaking on my knuckles and the boy dropped to the floor, still conscious, but dazed and coughing up blood. I kicked him down with my heel, pushing him to the wood parquet on his belly, and I was on him. I pressed my cock to his anus and thrust so that his screams filled the room, the whole apartment. I held him by the hair, jerking his head back painfully as I slammed my hips forward, driving 12 inches of that hard phallus into his suddenly torn rectum. I could feel his tender young muscles resist, but it was a useless instinct and merely caused him more pain. The long red shaft penetrated him easily, the smooth tapering tip driving into his bowels. "Wren, my darling, is this what you want?" I whispered in his ear. "Is this what you dream of? Why do you make me love you so?" He was well spitted, my precious young lover, writhing and screaming in my grasp. His movements served my pleasure as that part of my cock which filled me moved back and forth, in and out slightly. My clit was burning as the base of my strap-on rubbed against it. I kept the pressure on his head, enjoying the way his smooth back was arched, pushing his firm round ass up and out. I momentarily wished I had a real penis, and heavy sperm filled balls of my own, that I could fill the child properly with semen, rather than his own mere blood. I fucked into him again and again, stabbing inside the child as he shook in my arms, his pitiful sobs broken only by pathetic cries for his mother. I felt my first orgasm coming, the quickening of my pulse, the flush in my skin. My eyes rolled back and my teeth grew long and sharp and I bit him at last, at the moment I was most vulnerable to my desire and unable to control myself. I ripped into the boy's neck, fucking his torn and bleeding asshole as I drank from his wounded throat. I needed that blood, I'd been too long without it, too much in the sun. I imagined I could have filled myself on three or four more just like him, my beautiful Wren. I wanted to feed until I was gorged full and I held him close to my breasts, pressing myself to his back as I fucked him slower, more deliberately, as if I might draw even more of his little life than what I'd already taken while he bled beneath me. I felt more than saw his eyelids flutter and finally close. His chest stopped moving, his heart slowing and growing weak as I grew strong. I was drawing hard upon his life now, rather than drinking from that eager crimson spring, the last of him reluctant to surrender. We didn't move, not for a long time. I was still as a statue, frozen on my knees, the child seeming asleep. His head was down, his cheek on my breast, as I held him silently. And even when Eva opened my door slowly, telling me it was nearly dawn, I was hesitant to move. I felt a great weight, perhaps sadness, or more likely regret I think. I should very much have liked to keep that boy and sleep with him through the coming day. But he was dead now, and the world was something less for it. "You should sleep, Mistress." Eva was lifting him from me and I didn't resist. She would lose him, lose the body and protect me. Eva would watch over me as I slept, for it was very much like death itself and I would be helpless in my dreams. "Eva..." I looked towards her. "Yes, Mistress?" She was naked but for her collar, and carrying the boy in her arms. "Where's the mother?" "Downstairs." She tilted her lovely face. "Do you want her, Mistress?" "Feed the boy's testicles to her." I looked down at myself, kneeling in a large dark stain of congealing blood. "Make sure she knows what they are..." "Yes, Mistress." She started leaving. "...who they're from." I whispered. Eva closed the door behind her, locking it with a dull, lonely sound. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= end rache696@yahoo.com www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm -- 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}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+