Message-ID: <52781asstr$1136466602@assm.asstr.org> Return-Path: <news@google.com> X-Original-To: story-submit@asstr.org Delivered-To: story-submit@asstr.org X-Original-Path: g14g2000cwa.googlegroups.com!not-for-mail From: "Shannon" <PunkyGirl04@gmail.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <1136428830.544484.289500@g14g2000cwa.googlegroups.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 5 Jan 2006 02:40:35 +0000 (UTC) User-Agent: G2/0.2 X-HTTP-UserAgent: Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Windows NT 5.1; en-US; rv:1.8) Gecko/20051111 Firefox/1.5,gzip(gfe),gzip(gfe) Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com Injection-Info: g14g2000cwa.googlegroups.com; posting-host=68.40.76.214; posting-account=fRlESA0AAACxI7vhykiNTub-De7R9YSZ X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 4 Jan 2006 18:40:30 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} A Teen Slut's Saga Ch. 6 Lines: 307 Date: Thu, 05 Jan 2006 08:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr.org/Year2006/52781> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-admin@asstr.org> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@asstr.org> X-Moderator-ID: hoisingr, RuiJorge THIS story should only be read by adults who understand the difference between fiction and reality. This story has lots of edgy sex (edgy if-it-was-real-it'd-be-illegal) involved. But they're not real!!! So enjoy with a clear conscience if you're mature enough! To see all of my stories, and participate in a cool online community, check out www.asstr.org/~Forbidden_Fantasies/, my 100% free story review and collection website! A Teen Slut's Saga By PunkyGirl Chapter 6: A Story Called Farm Girl Amy Torch was bent over the corner of her father's bed, her bare young ass held high in the air with straining legs, her naked tits pressed roughly into the king-size mattress. Behind her, the young girl's dad was holding her in place by pushing down between her shoulder blades with his left hand; his right, the girl knew, was pulled back, ready to come down and slap either her left or right ass-cheek. If she opened her eyes they wouldn't see much because her adorable 14-year-old face was pressed into the mattress covers. The only thing the young teen could do was cry, and blubber, and play with her pussy. Yes, her right arm was lying beneath her squashed body, threatening to go numb. But her hand was between her parted legs at an awkward angle anyway, barely giving her the ability to tickle her peach-fuzzed mound. She was also soaking wet down there, a detail that hadn't gone unnoticed to the sobbing girl. "FIFTEEN!" The brutal smack of her dad's large hand onto her soft round butt was enough to give the terrified girl the energy necessary to scream again. The pain was intense. But it was doing something strange to her body too, making it flinch and quiver and intensify the building pleasure already generated by her tickling fingers at her cunt's entrance. "Th-thank-y-y-y-you," the girl blubbered. Why was she thanking him? She didn't know. Then it came to her in a flash: she had to thank him. It was what her daddy had demanded. With every spank she was to thank him, or they'd have to start over. The girl gasped repeatedly as she tried to groan, sob, and breathe at the same time. Suddenly she heard the call for sixteen, then seventeen. Each time she managed to thank him audibly and coherently, even as her body writhed with unsurpassed levels of pleasure and pain. She had until the count of fifty, she knew suddenly, to cum. If she didn't have an orgasm by then he'd start over. Those were his rules. If she didn't cum at all he'd abuse her cute ass all night: he didn't care. He took pleasure out of hurting her. My daddy likes to hurt me, the girl thought. I give him pleasure when he hurts me, and he gives me pleasure when he- "TWENTY ONE!" The pain was incomprehensible. She had to cum, she just had to! Never had the girl been so worked up before but never had she been in so much pain. There was no way she'd be able to endure another fifty strokes; if she didn't cum by the end of this first round, she was a goner. The thought terrified her. And it turned her on even more as she desperately flicked her numb fingers at her dripping, trembling teenage twat. And she was getting ready to cum anyway. She was almost there. But suddenly the young girl realized she'd failed to thank her father at the 21st stroke and at that very terrifying moment, she awoke with a gasp and a scream. She was in her bed. The room was dark. Her chest was heaving and her pussy, wet and juicy, was trembling from the nightmare she'd just had. Six months had actually passed since Amy had contemplated calling the cops on her dad. Six months since he'd physically assaulted her. During those six months a lot had happened: summer had come and gone, a birthday had been celebrated, and Amy had begun the 8th grade at Westmoreland Middle School. What hadn't happened was another attack. In fact, her father hadn't done anything even remotely sexual to the ever developing young teenager aside from the occasional secret glare when she wore more provocative clothing. There hadn't been any late night intrusions into her room (as far as she knew, anyway), no casual brushings in the hall, nothing. There hadn't even been any hugging or family kisses. Amy's relationship with her father had definitely changed. She was more timid around him, more apt to do what he asked her to. Her dissent into teenage rebellion had been all but broken the night he'd raped her in his bedroom, when he'd spanked her and fucked her and made her cum harder than she ever had before or ever had since. After realizing the alternative to living with him-which was living with strangers in some foster care home at God knew where-she'd known she was stuck. Her only hope was to avoid getting him angry at her again. And it had worked. Amy's dad hadn't been angry with her at all. Sure, her last report card before summer break had pissed him off a bit, but all he'd done was take away her brand new cell-phone (which she could afford, now, thanks to the huge increase in her allowance) for a few days. Around the time of her birthday, near the beginning of the new school year, she'd also pushed her luck by daring to bring one of her new boyfriend's home with her. Other than that, he'd been a real gentle giant, a giant she'd been extremely careful to avoid provoking. Amy had long since broken up with Shane. He was terrible in bed, the girl had decided, plus she'd become quite attracted to his best friend, Andrew. The split had been bitter but before long Andrew had caught the girl on the rebound, and shortly after that he'd become her third-ever fuck. Unfortunately, he'd been as bad as Shane. The girl's next few hookups had been with the remainder of Shane's circle: Tim, Logan, and B (only hours after that disaster of a fuck she'd forgotten what the "B" stood for). All of them had had girlfriends when she'd dated Shane, but such is the nature of teenage relationships that she'd caught them all single when she'd needed to (although she still didn't quite believe that Logan had officially left his girlfriend during the week they were fucking). After those guys had realized what she was doing, fucking one of them after the other and then dumping them, she'd become an outcast. She wasn't friends with any of them anymore. None of them trusted her anymore. They'd discarded her-each had gotten what they wanted from her, and now they hated her. They'd been her only real friends, and they'd each loved her in their own way. Why they had all turned on her at the end was something Amy still couldn't totally understand. Sure, she had screwed up by blatantly fucking each of them, and for telling lies to cover herself, and for behaving like, well, a child-and a slut. But she had always been the child of the group, the slut, the outcast, the youngest and only female! Their sudden rejection of her had left the girl feeling desperate and alone. Thankfully, the money she was now receiving for her new allowance had earned her some new friends, friends that were quick to accept her when she no longer had Shane and his group around. And these were actually friends her age, kids her own gender, classmates. Amy's early summer break had been filled with trips to the mall with these girls where she'd buy the clothes that had previously been inaccessible to her, the clothes that made you cool. The fact that she could keep up with their spending made them like her. But the fact that she was clearly the cutest and sexiest of them made them jealous. And that's why, just after she celebrated her 14th birthday near the beginning of the first marking period of the 8th grade, they'd all turned on her. Jeff. It'd been because of Jeff. Jeff was Laura's older brother, and Laura was the real queen of Amy's new clique. Jeff was a lot older, though. He was almost 25. And at her 14th birthday party, Amy had fucked him. Because of his age and his physique, Amy had fantasized that this man would be able to make her cum hard, cum for real, something the boys her age seemed incapable of doing. She'd become infatuated with him. Fact was, he'd been part of the reason she'd become such good friends with Laura in the first place. Unfortunately the sex with Jeff had been the usual: a quick poke in, a few thrusts, a spurt or two of cum inside her young pussy. Not only had she not had an orgasm that night, Amy hadn't even been completely undressed when the older man had spewed his seed inside her tight twat. Well, Laura found out about what had happened, and for some reason quickly lashed out against Amy. The story Laura told everyone was that Amy had sucked off Steven, the boy who had consistently rejected Laura's advances (Amy figured he was gay; Laura had always dismissed this observation). Anyway, since all the girls had known how in love Laura was with Steve, her accusation struck a cord. Amy became a traitor, a bitch, a slut you couldn't trust around any guy, even guys you told her were off limits. They were jealous of her ability to entrance any boy, and threatened by it, so they had turned on her with a vengeance. And how could Amy discredit Laura's stupid lie? By telling the truth, that she'd fucked Laura's brother and for some reason that had angered her? Not likely. There weren't a lot of people around to back her up, to take her side, anyway. The drama with Laura had subsided weeks ago, though, and Amy hadn't found any new friends. She didn't even really care anymore, either. It seemed to the girl that everything boiled down to sex, whether your friends were boys or your friends were girls. But sex was never any good anyway. It only ever hurt, it never helped. Except... No. The exhausted girl refused to think it. She was lying in her bed, and the clock read 2:44am, and she had school the next day. Her panties were scrunched down to just inches above her knees, and her pussy was wet, and her heart was pounding. She'd just woken up from the nightmare. She was still catching her breath and was still incredibly aroused and ashamed. Nightmares like these were growing more common. These were nightmares where the recently turned 14-year-old girl would wake up with her hand at her pussy, rubbing herself, from a dream re-envisioning one of the two times her dad had fucked her. Sometimes they were violent dreams. Sometimes they were subtle, or even gentle. But they were always nightmares, she would tell herself. Right, the girl thought. Nightmares. Nightmares that make me want to cum. Presently she was wet between her legs from tonight's nightmare and her mind and body were pent up with unreleased sexual frustration. It was almost three in the morning and she had school in just a few hours, and here she was lying in bed, knowing already from past experiences that there was no way she'd be able to sleep again in such a state. Amy abruptly made up her mind. She slid her small body out of her bed and stared across her darkened room at her brand new computer. She's just bought it at the end of summer for over $1,000-it was easily the most expensive thing the girl had ever paid for on her own. She walked over to it on wobbly legs, her breath finally slowing down, her mouth whetting in anticipation. She'd sworn to herself after the last time that she wouldn't do this again. But the girl couldn't resist! And besides, she did have to get to sleep. The first marking period of the year was almost over and she had to really buckle down or else risk giving her dad another poor report card. She wouldn't want to do that, she told herself. The one thing that was good about not having friends again was that she had more time for study; she had to use the time to do well. Moments later the girl was online. She went immediately to her movies folder and began to watch a few porno clips, hoping they would be enough. She put her headphones on so that she could hear them, but after a few minutes Amy gave up. This wasn't a night for movies; she didn't have many good movies anyway. It was hard to get access to good porno movies when you're a 14-year-old girl, even on the Internet. So with baited breath the teenager slowly moved the mouse around on its pad, opening Internet Explorer, finding her favorites folder, and then selecting the link she'd wanted all along. The story that came up was titled "Farm Girl" by an author who called himself "Dark Dreamer". The irony of his pseudonym was lost on the preoccupied horny girl as she scrolled down through the story, looking for the part she really wanted to read, the part that made her feel so guilty and dirty and ashamed and yet, of course, so fucking good. She'd found the story months before through a Google search. Amy had been fascinated with porn stories since she'd first read one of her father's Penthouse Letters magazines back when she was eleven. Ever since that day Amy had spent more time reading text to get off than watching movies or looking at pictures. Though those other mediums for porn often did the trick for the girl, there was something about the way a good story got into her head that turned her on in ways that no movie or picture ever could. The first time she'd read "Farm Girl" she'd stopped in disgust at the scene where Becky, the hero of the story (if you could call her that), had intentionally had her dog eat her out. That had been too much for Amy at the time, and so she'd returned to the tamer stuff, the more normal romance, consensual, human-only stories. It wasn't until her first nightmare about her daddy that Amy had returned to Becky's tale. She'd needed something dark that night, just like she did this night. She increased the font size of the screen, now, and leaned back and began to read. It was the part where Becky's dad first raped his daughter. God, how true to life it seemed to the girl! A little over-the-top, of course, but it was after all, fiction. As she read about Becky's feeling of being violated by her dad, Amy began to get wet again and she finally pushed her panties all the way off and spread her smooth, trembling legs. By the time she got to the next sex scene, where Becky's father raped her again in the laundry room, Amy was struggling not to moan too loud as she expertly fingered herself. She shuddered in ecstasy as she pictured the scene: the large, gruff farm-man bending over his small, unrealistically well-endowed little girl over the laundry sink; his cock raping in and out of her from behind; him pushing her head beneath the soapy water, nearly suffocating her; her, quaking with fear and orgasmic delight through it all. And so was Amy, now. She was lost in Dark Dreamer's words. This was a sick story, a wrong story, but it was also terribly comforting. It made Amy feel more normal about her own experiences with her dad. More than that, though, it rocketed her into a tremendous orgasm that seemed to last forever and only a moment at the same time. When she had finished cumming she felt ashamed, like she always did. And just like always, she told herself that it was okay, for this one time, and that she wouldn't do it again. Ever. In silence, the girl turned the computer off. She was spent. That had been exactly what she needed and now she could sleep. She looked at the clock: almost 3:30am. She could get three more hours of sleep before having to get ready for school. The confused yet physically content girl slept soundly those next three hours without a single unpleasant dream or nightmare to disturb her rest. END OF CHAPTER SEE all currently posted chapters of this stories, my other stories, plus find reviews to similar stories I like at: www.asstr.org/~Forbidden_Fantasies/ ...a 100% free collection and review website run by me, Shannon! IF (for some strange reason) you want to distribute this story without my consent, well, there's nothing I can do about it is there? Frankly I wouldn't mind either. But a simple e-mail in advance would make me feel wanted!: PunkyGirl04@gmail.com PLEASE e-mail me with any comments/advice/mistakes... feedback makes the world go round! :P -- 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: <story-submit@asstr.org>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-admin@asstr.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+