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From: see@below.for.email (dimitri)
Subject: (A.S.S.M) TombRaider - Lara's Defeat 1/4 (m/f, adventure)
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A little something you should know : GO AWAY - if you are
not over eighteen you must leave RIGHT NOW. I am not joking, the law
prohibits anyone under the age of eighteen from viewing material of
this nature - that is why you are unable to purchase Playboy,
Penthouse, Rent dirty movies or get laid (legally at least).
I will not take responsibility for the corruption of young minds,
or I may find myself being burnt at a stake by various religious
political parties. Understand this - I WILL ONLY CORRUPT THE MINDS
OF THOSE OVER EIGHTEEN, THE REST OF YOU MUST STAY PURE AND
INNOCENT!!!
As for those of you over eighteen - hello and welcome, it's
good to see you (Okay, good to write to you) and I hope you enjoy
this story.
If you miss any parts or want to see some more of my stories
check out :
ftp://asstr.ml.org/pub/Authors/Dimitri
or
http://members.xoom.com/dimitri_archive/
or
http://www.cjspalace.fsn.net (I haven't had a chance to
check this out yet, but apparently my stories are
at this site)
or contact me at :
dimitri_resides@hotmail.com (where you can also send any
compliments, complaints or criticisms)
Lara's Defeat
Part One.
The photographer sneezed.
"Sorry, I'm allergic to wild flowers and pine," he said,
sniffing snot back into his nose.
"That must be hell in your line of work," said Lara, her
english accent seemed strangely at home here in the Canadian forest.
"I'm new to the work," he said, grinning weakly,"And I forgot
my tablets."
"Okay, what do you want me to do?" asked Lara, she stood in
a clearing in the forest, she was wearing tiny brown shorts and a
tight gray top, her huge breasts strained against the fabric and the
photographer smiled to himself, he had a few ideas on what he wanted
her to do, that was for sure. Unfortunately, he couldn't follow
through on them, he was hear to take pictures for Adventurer
Magazine.
The subject of his photo-shoot - Lara Croft - was hot
property at the moment, she had been brought up as the wealthy
heiress to Lord Henshingly Croft, an aristocrat since birth.
Following a ski trip however, her plane had crashed and she had been
the only survivor, she was forced to rely on her wits to stay alive
in the Himalayas. She escaped and returned to England, but found
herself unable to live in the claustrophobic atmosphere of upper
class Bristish society. She traveled the globe, going on
adventures, discovering several ancient sites of extreme interest
and significance in the archeological community. But her family
disowned her and she turned to writing to finance her trips - she
became quite successful - publishing several travel books and
detailed journals of her exploits.
Now Adventurer Magazine wanted to write an article on her
and get a few photos as well - Lara seemed only too happy for the
publicity, despite the fact that even without her father's support
she didn't want for money.
The photographer noted the two pistols she nearly always
wore at her side.
"Those things loaded?" he asked.
"Always," she said,"A girl can never be too careful."
"Okay," he said,"I wonder if you could pretend to be
studying tracks in the ground or......"
A sudden scream cut him of, he jerked his head around and
noted in irritation a man rushing out of the woods.
"This is a closed............AACHOO......a closed photo
set, you'll have to leave........"
"Help me!" cried the man, the photographer noticed that
blood was running through his shirt.
"What happened?" asked Lara, approaching him, she pulled
open the shirt and winced at the claw mark in his side,"That looks
like a bear claw, only larger."
"It's.......it's the Sasquatch!" he screamed.
The photographer let out a laugh,"Bigfoot? come on pal......"
An earth shattering scream cut him off, he looked up at the
clearing and saw a giant figure stepping through the clearing - it
was huge, nearly ten feet tall, and it looked angry.
"Wow," said Lara, impressed,"It's got fangs, that means
Bigfoot is a carnivore - who would have thought it."
"Let's.......let's get out of here," gasped the injured
man,"That thing could eat us for breakfast."
"Are you kidding," said Lara,"This one will guarantee me
another bestseller, I can afford to go on trips forever if I get
this baby."
She started towards the giant creature, waving her arms at
it,"Hey ugly! this way."
The Bigfoot turned and peered at her, she noted foam all
around it's mouth - it had rabies, it was mad. The thing rushed at
her with amazing speed, the photographer forgot his fear and started
taking photos, Lara was right, this one would make them both rich.
The creature stopped in front of her, it threw back it's
head and roared as Lara pulled her pistols loose, then it darted
forward with blinding speed... only to find Lara was faster.
The Photographer snapped away madly, trying to follow Lara
as she somersaulted to the side and left the creature clawing at
dust. He barely even registered the loud cracking noise of her
pistols firing at the supposedly mythical monster.
It roared in pain and twisted about, rearing up to it's full
height of nearly ten feet and screaming. But as it wasted it's time
trying to scare her she was blasting away with her pistols, pumping
round after round into the creature's hairy chest. Falling back a
step the creature turned as if to retreat - it's maddened mind
clearing enough to realize it was in over it's head - but Lara
lowered her gun and blasted it behind the kneecaps.
With a roar the creature collapsed to the ground and Lara
rushed forward, shooting the last of her guns ammo into the back of
the monsters thick skull.
Next to the photographer the dumbfounded tourist stood gaping
in wonder. Lara placed one boot on the dead Bigfoot's back and
lifted her smoking guns to her face, blowing the last of the gun smoke
away.
"Now did you want me to study some tracks?" she asked the
photographer,"Or will that do?"
---
Lara was exhausted, but she refused to let it get her
down, she had a press conference to attend to. She stepped out into
the bright sunlight and winced as the bright light mixed with several
flashes of light coming from camera bulbs.
"Ms Croft, Ms Croft, New York Times, did you suspect the
Sasquatch would be in the forest?"
"......Bugle, did you have to kill it, couldn't you have
immobilized this rare animal?"
"....Planet, several noted scientists are talking about
legal action against you for possible genocide....."
She answered all the questions as best she could, trying to
keep calm despite the anger she felt welling up inside her, finally
it was over and she was able to leave, falling in exhaustion onto the
bed in her expensive hotel room.
Her last thought before sleep overtook her was that she needed
a break, she thought she'd go back to England.
---------------
Two Days Later.
---------------
Jaqueline Natla - CEO and Founder of the highly successful
Multinational Natla Technologies - read the article in yesterday's
paper once more with interest. Putting it down she yawned,
stretching her arms and purposely bringing her chest forward so that
the tight white business shirt against her large breasts stretched
appropriately - she knew Larsen would be staring at them for as long
as possible before bringing his eyes back up to her face.
- I can still drive them wild after several millennia, - she
thought to herself with a grin. Finishing the yawn she picked up the
old journal and leafed through it one more time, perusing the last
lines again and again :
"....creator himself. My toes sweat at such possibilities and
I find I must beat these thoughts out of my head each night........"
The old monk had been foolish to not at least look for the
scion, she thought, she shook her head and looked once more at the
map, the locations had been pinpointed, all that remained was to find
a couple of patsies. She flicked up her laptop and bought up the
video link with Eygpt.
"Any luck yet?" she said to the short man who appeared on the
screen, he wore a baseball cap backwards on his head and held a
skateboard in his hands - pathetic, he was twenty nine years old,
still, he could always be counted on to get the job done.
"None, it looks like you were right, we'll need the other two
pieces of the scion to find where they put this one."
She sighed,"I had hoped it would be easier, but those two
bastards were never ones to do things the easy way."
She called up a new video link, this one in London, a hulking
black man appeared, thickly muscled with the appearance of
stupidity,"Have you found him?"
"No ma'am," the huge man said,"But I do have some strong
leads."
"Follow through," she said,"And remember, price is no barrier."
He smiled as she shut down the link.
"Larsen," she said picking up the paper,"Find me this Lara
Croft, we're sending her to Peru."
-------
London.
-------
Not just anyone could get into the club that Lara approached,
it was probably the most exclusive in all of England - but she had no
problems.
"Ms. Croft, it's a pleasure," said the hugely musclebound
bouncer, his skin was a magnificent bronze, Lara had always wondered
if it was a tan or his natural skin color. He had no hair on his head,
including eyebrows and she had no idea how old he was, but he seemed
genuinely pleased to see her and she smiled in return.
"Thank you Barry," she said,"Good crowd tonight?"
"Tell the truth, a lot of people have left," he looked around
to make sure no one else could hear him - not likely, the streets
were mainly deserted in these last days of Winter when the wind seemed
to blow the hardest, everyone was in a pub, club or at home - then
whispered into her ear,"The Brothers are here tonight."
She nodded as comprehension dawned on her,"Oh! Them."
He smiled and opened the door for her and she stepped in,
nearly getting flattened by the sudden roar of music that was deadened
by the soundproof walls for anyone outside.
Several people greeted her as she made her way through some
of the dancers - all of them celebrities or the children of wealthy
Lords - like she had once been.
- Still am," she thought to herself with a smile, - Unless
Daddy's altered the will, it's just I can get in here on my own
merits now. -
Sitting down at the bar she ordered a gin and tonic, and
turning about to drink it she saw with some consternation that the
older of the brothers was approaching her.
"Hello there," he said, taking the seat next to her,"I'd
like to shag you."
"Hey," she replied with a sweet smile,"Since you seem to be
so in love with yourself, why don't you go shag yourself."
His eyes widened in surprise, then he grinned in what was
supposed to be a sly manner,"You know who I am?"
"A wanker?"
He growled lightly,"There are millions of birds around the
world who would kill for a chance to have sex with me."
"Leave the poor little birds alone, just because your dick
is only big enough to fuck a sparrow doesn't mean you have to take
it out on them."
"You fucking ineffectual little whore!" he yelled, his voice
raising with each word,"I'm a fucking music star! My band is the
biggest fucking thing since the fucking Beatles! We're fucking bigger
than the fucking Beatles!"
"To tell the truth," she said with that same sweet smile,"I'd
rather screw John Lennon than you, and he's dead."
His face was growing redder and redder, it made a nice change
from the horrid pallid complexion he normally had, but just made his
horrible hair and bad teeth look worse.
"Hey bro, what's going on?" asked the younger brother,
noticing that a lot of people were looking his brothers way.
"Fuck off," he growled,"I fucking hate you, I fucking hate
this bitch here, I hate the fucking Spice Girls and I hate my
fucking fans! The only person here who really deserves my fucking
respect is fucking me!"
"Fucking A," murmured Lara,"You've got to respect anyone
who'd lower themselves to giving you a pity fuck."
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I FUCKING MEANT!!!!" screamed the rock
star,"FUCKING.......!!!!"
"Come on bro," muttered his brother,"Let's go home."
"I don't fucking wanna go home......"
As the two brothers made their way out of the club, the
younger cast an apologetic look back at Lara, who raised her gin and
tonic and smiled in commiseration.
Within five minutes things were back to normal, and Lara was
finished her second gin, ready to go up and dance when she saw in the
corner of her eye someone sitting next to her.
"Congratulations," said a french accent,"You handled that
prick quite nicely."
"That's probably the worst come on line I've ever heard," she
replied, turning about and finding herself looking at a stereotypical
French ladies man. He was unshaven with stylish black hair that came
down to just above his neck, he wore a purple jacket and black t-shirt
with jeans - she didn't know who he was or how he'd gotten into the
club.
"Ahhh, I see, 'handle the prick' and all that, I apologize if
I have offended, let me buy you a drink."
She nodded slightly, - what the hell, - she thought, - one
drink can't hurt. -
"You are Lara Croft," he said with a grin,"I saw you in the
paper yesterday."
"I'm happy for you," she replied,"If you're from Playboy or
Penthouse then the answer is still no."
He laughed,"Ahhh, again you have gotten the wrong end of the
stick," he paused,"I hope I have not offended you again in any way
with that remark. In this day and age it becomes harder and harder
to be perfectly politically correct," he sighed as if from long
suffering,"Let us start again," he extended his hand,"My name is
Pierre DuPont, and I have a proposition for you."
-
He wasn't used to meeting men bigger than him, but this
Barry was, and it unnerved him slightly.
"Listen, I have to get in there to talk with Pierre DuPont,
if you'll just let me through...." he started forward, but one huge
arm came out and stopped him.
"Unless you're on the guest list," replied Barry,"You may
not enter."
"I represent Jaqueline Natla," he said patiently,"And..."
"Ms. Natla isn't on this list either," Barry said, unmoved
by the name of one of the world's richest women,"And until one of
you is, you can't come in here."
He hesitated for a few seconds and then turned about, walking
down the street with his arms buried in his trench coat muttering to
himself. There would be another time to contact DuPont, he thought,
and definitely another time to teach the Bouncer a little lesson in
respect.
---
Later that night Lara lay restless in bed, thinking over
Pierre's proposal.
- It's sounds great, - she thought to herself, - But that's
what's bothering me, there doesn't seem to be a downside... it's too
perfect. -
Pierre had told her about a contact of his at the Cairo
Museum of Natural History who was part of an archeological dig with
the celebrated Professor Frederick Golsha. They had come across what they
believed to be an ancient tomb of an unknown Pharoah, but were
having trouble accessing it due to a large number of ingenious booby
traps. The Prof. needed help to get into the tomb, and was looking
for a 'tombraider' clever enough to do it.
- I've never seen a tomb I couldn't get into, - Lara thought
to herself, - And the added public exposure will help my books sell
even better... but why is Pierre asking for my help, surely he's
capable of doing a job like this himself? -
She thought about Pierre for a few seconds, he was kind of
cute - for a Frenchman - and she idly wondered what it would be like
to have sex with him. Would he be one of those arrogant men who
climbed on top of you, thrust a couple of times, grunted and fell
asleep? Or would he be a caring, gentle lover?
Almost without realizing it she had lowered her arms down her
naked form onto her gigantic breasts. Her fingers rubbing her nipples
and bringing them to an all too familiar hardness. As had been the
case for the last two years now, she relied on her own hands to
bring her off. Her hands - lightly layered in perspiration - glided
down past her slim waist to the neatly trimmed pussy hair below. She
continued down between her legs and lifted her hips up, cupping her
firm, round asscheeks.
Lara sighed half in longing, half in contentment as her hands
moved back up against her firm cuntmound.
- Two years since I got laid, - she thought as her fingers
played between her cuntlips, - Damn if I nearly didn't take that
tosser at the club up on his offer! -
As her mind ran over her problems the tips of her fingers
ran back up her stomach - causing a thrill of pleasure to run through
her body - and she ran them in little circles around her erect
nipples, sending depth charges of sensation throughout her frame.
"Geez, I need to get laid so bad," she moaned as her fingers
once again ran back down her body to her pussy, which was crying for
attention.
Using her index and middle finger, Lara parted her vaginal
lips, while she slid her thumb down and pressed the knuckle against
her clitoris, which was already becoming erect. She moaned in
excitement as she felt that familiar tingle spreading from her pussy
and out over her entire body.
Her middle finger slid up inbetween her pussylips, sliding in
and out of her wet snatch, then slid a second and after that a third,
sliding the three fingers in and out of her pussy faster and faster.
- Immm yeah, it's not a cock but it'll do the trick! -
Now Lara's fingers were pumping in and out between her legs,
the friction causing a steadily growing wave of pleasure to build
up between her legs. She would come soon, and she smirked slightly
at the irony. When she had been getting laid her lover hadn't been
able to fuck her for long enough to fulfill her, but now her fingers
never failed to get her off within a few minutes.
Her body tremored in ecstasy as she felt her orgasm
approaching, she desperately tried to hold of the final moment of
climax as long as she could. The rising crescendo of pleasure was
nearly as good as the ultimate moment of orgasm itself.
"Yes! Yes! YES! YEEESSSSSSSSS!!!!!," she screamed louder and
louder, not caring who heard her, reveling in her orgasm, her juices
exploding out over her fingers and onto the sheets, pooling up
around her firm asscheeks. She pushed her hips up into her hand,
burying her fingers as deeply into her gushing pussy as she could,
feeling her cuntlips clamp around her fingers.
At last she collapsed, her body a panting, sweating pile
of flesh.
- Now that's what I call a fuck! - she thought, trying to
be enthusiastic, but she couldn't fool herself, she needed to feel
a cock inside of her again. A real, hard dick fucking her cunt,
even her vibrators couldn't give her the same feeling.
"I'm too fucking horny for my own good," she muttered out
loud,"I need to get my mind of things."
Rolling over, and even now she couldn't help but check out
her beautiful ass in the mirror against the far side of the room,
she scooped up the card Pierre had given her, the picked up the
phone.
He answered on the fourth ring, sounding tired and
disorientated.
"Oui?" he asked.
"Pierre, this is Lara, count me in."
He didn't answer for a couple of seconds, when he did he
sounded like a man desperately trying to hide his excitement.
"Great, meet me at Heathrow tomorrow at 11, I already
brought your ticket."
She hung up without answering, but a small smile played
across her lips.
"Confidence, I like that in a man!"
------------------------
Heathrow - The Next Day.
------------------------
She was dressed up in comfortable, warm clothes and
Pierre almost didn't recognize her, he was dressed the same as
he had been at the club last night, but when he did see her and
walked over to her she could still smell the soap on him.
- Maybe he's got a lot of the same clothes? Or perhaps he
just washes them every night? -
She cut off her musings and pointed to a trolley that held
her luggage.
"Get that would you?"
Pierre frowned, then put on a smile.
"But of course, I am happy to carry your luggage around
for you... perhaps you might even give me a penny and I can
polish your boots?"
"Funny Pierre, if you can't handle it I'll take care of
it."
Pierre rolled his eyes and walked to the trolley, pushing
forward past her.
"Follow me," he said, and added under his breath,"Unless
you'd like me to carry you too?"
---
"I don't know what else I'd expect from a man whose
country rolled over on it's back for the Nazi's in World War
II!" Lara snapped an hour later as their plane made it's way
towards Eygpt.
"Oh that's fine, you know the only reason the German's
didn't come after you is because no one cares about your pathetic
little island! And besides, the American's saved your ass!"
"I can't believe I agreed to come on this trip with
you, I can tell you're totally unprofessional!" she yelled at
him.
"ME?" replied Pierre in mock shock, lifting one arm
to his chest,"I'm not the one who brought along Versace's Spring
Line for a weeks work!"
A stewardess arrived and looked down at them disapprovingly,
Lara and Pierre both looked up at her in irritation.
"WHAT?"
She sighed,"Sir, Ma'am, We've only been in the air for ten
minutes and your disturbing the other passengers, would you
please control yourselves?"
Lara muttered an obscenity, crossed her arms under her
giant breasts and peered straight ahead, Pierre did the same and
the Stewardess went on her way, a small smile on her face.
-------------------
Half An Hour Later.
-------------------
Pierre pulled the door shut.
"We shouldn't be doing this," whispered Lisa, the
Stewardess who only half an hour ago had berated him and Lara.
Even as she spoke she was unbuttoning her top.
"Sometimes," said Pierre with a grin,"The rules, they
are made for the breaking, no?"
"Oui," she said with a little giggle, dropping her
top and revealing large breasts held in a red, lacy bra.
-
- That man is so infuriating! - fumed Lara to herself,
waiting for him to come back from - as he put it - 'natures call.'
After the plane had taken off she had attempted to make
some pleasant small talk, but she had soon discovered that Pierre
had nothing valid to say. He was the most sexist, ignorant...
Frenchman! she had ever met.
"What the fuck is taking him so long," she muttered under
her breath,"I'm getting bored."
-----------------------
End Part One (Of Four)
-----------------------
If you'd like to make a comment, be it constructive
criticism, compliments or requests, drop me a line at :
dimitri_resides@hotmail.com
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