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From: "Assmaster McStuff" <assmastermcstuff@hotmail.com>
Subject: STORY: The Stolen Panties (MF, anal, reluctant)
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Assmaster McStuff and the Stolen Panties (MF, anal, reluctant)
(c) 1998

You know the drill: don't read this if you're less than the legal age 
(21 in most jurisdictions) or if you don't enjoy reading about hot, 
sweaty, ass-busting fun. Also, while reality sometimes sneaks into 
Assmaster McStuff stories, most of them are set in a world where I'm 
always hard, and women with big breasts would like nothing more than a 
poke in the duff from an anonymous stranger. Don't try this at home.

I've included the "reluctant" tag in the message header because the 
woman in this story is verbally coerced into a compromising situation 
and ends up enjoying it. This is not a model for real-life behavior.

Your mileage may vary. See your dealer for details.

===================================================

So I'm in this department store looking for a birthday gift for my 
girlfriend, Hobbs, when  I notice in the power tool section a woman 
who's fine as frog's hair. 

This girl, as Lyle Lovett says, makes me think so fast I leave my 
thoughts behind. She's tall, maybe 5'9", and draped in a short dress and 
-- feature this -- cowboy boots.

Who cares what I'm wearing.

I move in for a closer look, but she's headed out of the power tools and 
into the men's wear, so I follow at a distance. She picks up a cologne 
sample and slips it into her purse, keeps moving. Next, naturally, on to 
the women's lingerie. As she's moving through the racks, she glances 
around and slips a pair of panties into her purse, then heads for the 
dressing room. This is too much, and my mind is racing over the 
possibilities. I stand near the dressing room entrance, hold my breath 
for 30 seconds, and slip in. A light perspiration breaks out across my 
forehead, I can't believe what I'm doing, and I push open her dressing 
room door. She looks up, gasps, I move into the stall and quickly shut 
the door behind me. No time to waste and no room to fuck up, I say, 
"Mall security, ma'am," and quickly flash my Waldenbooks Frequent 
Readers Card. "We prosecute shoplifters. Turn around."

"But, but, but," she's stammering, I'm thinking this is whacked, what am 
I doing, and say sternly "I said turn around!"

She faces the wall and I have a moment to catch my breath, keep my head 
from spinning, and survey the scene. Okay, okay, stop sweating and stay 
calm. This girl's brown hair is shaking a bit, she's trembling, and her 
golden shoulders are tensed. My eye carries down the ridge of her spine 
to a sweet round ass and shapely legs. I revise her height estimate up 
to 5'10". I haven't had the best look at her face, but from the glimpse 
I've seen she's a beauty, a bit of the Teri Hatcher type. The flowery 
dress is hanging on a peg, and all she's wearing is a blue satin bra, 
her cowboy boots, and the stolen panties. She's obviously picked a size 
too small, because her ass is spilling out around the blue fabric. 
Enough looking, if I don't keep this thing moving the spell will break 
and she might wise up and shout. 

"Hands against the wall, Miss, now." She hesitates, but after another 
"NOW" she puts her hands up against the wall of the dressing room. She's 
shaking and stammering something, I lean in closer and hear her 
whispering "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." 

"All right, miss, that's enough. I'll do the talking. You stole those 
panties didn't you?" She nods, whispers yes. I say "We'll need to retain 
those panties for evidence," and she tentatively brings her hands down 
to remove them. "Hands on the wall!" I yell, and she quickly obeys. "You 
might be carrying a concealed weapon. I'll need to remove them myself." 
She tenses up, as I lean forward, and think -- what the fuck am I doing? 
This is the sort of behavior that lands your ass in jail, brother. But I 
push those thoughts aside and place my thumbs under the strap of her 
panties and slowly peel them down, only an inch. I lean close to her 
ear, and whisper, "You know you can go to jail for this sort of thing" 
-- hey, if I'm freaked out she should be too. She gulps, and actually 
says, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'll do anything you say."

I pull the panties down over the swell of her ass, and only with 
superhuman effort restrain myself from licking a cheek while I pull them 
past thighs, calves, and boots. "Step out of them," I say. She gingerly 
lifts one booted foot, then another, and from this angle I notice just 
how big and sweet her ass is compared to the rest of her body. I slip 
the panties into my pocket, stand up, and say, "That bra may be stolen 
too, it should come off." I reach around, fumble with the clasp between 
her breasts, and release them from the confines of the satin. Now she's 
naked except for the cowboy boots, and she's not coming out of those if 
I have anything to say about it. 

I'm surprised it's gone this far, and can't think of what to say next. 
There's an awkward silence while I look blankly at her beautiful back, 
and after a moment she looks over her should at me and asks, "Were you 
going to search me?" This is almost too easy and I briefly wonder how 
many people she's fucking. 

"Hush," I say, "I'll do the talking. What's your name?" She mumbles 
something that sounds like "vomit," and I say "what?!" She speaks up a 
bit, "Hollis."

"All right, Hollis," I tell her, "spread your legs." She does, 
awkwardly, and I reach my hands around to hold the fullness of her 
breasts in my hands. She gasps, and I squeeze them gently. I slowly let 
me finger tips drift over her stomach, her thighs, and the cheeks of her 
ass. "Sit down Hollis," and I motion her to the dressing room bench. She 
sits, and I get my first good look at her face. She's breathtaking: big 
brown eyes, creamy skin, and pillowy lips. She's looking up at me 
expectantly and I know that no matter what, I have to ball this woman. 

"What should we do with you, Hollis?" I say.

She looks down at the floor, hesitates, mumbles, "I don't want to go to 
jail." (Me neither, I'm thinking).

I scratch my chin, pull a face, and say, "Maybe we can keep you out of 
jail. How much are you willing to cooperate?" As I say this I sit down 
on the bench next to her, close enough to smell her nervousness. "What 
should we do here to keep you out of jail?" I ask, softening my tone.

"Are you going to punish me?" she says softly, looking away. "Tell me 
what to do. I'll do... what you say." 

"I don't know Hollis," I say. "What do you think I should do about 
this?"

Hollis shrugs, but I reach up and hold her chin, look her in the eye, 
and say, "I think you need to take this seriously, Hollis -- and that 
means being part of the solution."

"Can't you just make the decision," she says. "I don't want to right 
now. I'd rather not."

"I am making the decisions Hollis, but I need to see that you understand 
the meaning of what you did," I say. I know, I know, pretty weak, but 
I'm still nervous that things could go wrong and I'm buying time to 
think.

"Well, I guess," she mumbles, "I guess it's all about me taking the 
panties. So maybe I need to be punished for that." She looks at me, our 
eyes meet.

"That's right Hollis. Since the panties covered your bottom, maybe 
that's where we should begin," I say. "Bend over my lap, Hollis."

She tenses up, "Why?"

"Just do as I say, Hollis."

"What are you going to do?"

After a long look, I pull her across my lap. She tries to twist, but 
strength is on my side, and  I position her face down across my lap. She 
struggles a bit and attempts to reach back, but has no purchase. The 
toes of her boots are just off the floor on my right; her small waist 
and golden round bottom struggle before me. I can feel her breathing, in 
and out, and I can feel the heat from her body as she tries to gain 
control. I wait her out, and after a time she quiets down. Her bottom is 
soft, round, and very vulnerable. Finally, she waits, supine on my lap. 

"Spread your legs, Hollis." She hesitates, and I smack her lightly on 
the ass. She complies by moving her legs slightly. I spread my hands 
across her bottom and caress her roundness, feeling the softness and 
texture of her prime ass. I shift her a little until her bottom is 
centered over my knees. She struggles again. "Is this how you obey me?" 
I ask. "Spread you bottom Hollis; I want to see it all. Use your hands."

After a pause she reaches back and pulls her cheeks just a little. I 
give her ass a sharp stinging slap on one cheek. "Owwww!" she cries, 
"That hurts!" She begins to struggle again, and I hold her to me, 
waiting her out. "Spread your bottom, Hollis, do it now."

After another moment, she reaches back and pulls her cheeks much farther 
apart. "There, can you see everything now?" she says, with attitude. 

"Yes, that's fine, Hollis. Just keep holding yourself open." I can see 
the small, tight rosebud between her golden cheeks, with its tiny folds 
narrowing in the center, and below it the moist crease of her pussy. 
Damn this girl is perfect. "Very well, Hollis. You can take her hands 
away."

"About time," she says. Her upturned ass is relaxed -- soft and round. 
But when her hands go down, I spank her, hard. She cries out in surprise 
and tries to cover herself with her hands, but I grab her wrists and 
held them together at the small of her back. "You -- SLAP -- will -- 
SLAP -- do -- SLAP -- as -- SLAP -- I -- SLAP -- say!" Her bottom 
jiggles helplessly as she cries out, taking the blows, her heels kicking 
in the air. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she sobs, her bottom quivering, 
"I'll do as you say!"

I let go of her wrists and, after a moment, gently spread her bottom as 
she whimpers to herself. Carefully holding her cheeks apart, I suck on 
my middle finger and gently touch the center.

"Oh God -- not my ass... Please not my ass!" She flinches, and tries to 
clench her cheeks together, but she doesn't have the strength. I slap 
her again, hard, and push against the dark rosebud between her cheeks. 
She twitches and squirms, trying to evade my probing finger, and I 
quickly spank her again, slapping her sweet wide upturned ass with my 
open hand.

"Hold still, Hollis, we're not finished."

"Is that it?" she asks, with attitude, "Is it my ass you want?" She 
turns her head and looks backs at me. Her face is angry and streaked 
with tears.

"Of course, Hollis," I say, as I think to myself -- what the fuck else 
would Assmaster McStuff want?  -- "Now hold still." I reach for her 
purse on the ground and open it up, hoping to find... bingo! A bottle of 
lotion rolls out and I twist the cap off, applying lotion to my fingers. 
Spreading her cheeks with the fingers of my left hand, I take a bit more 
lotion and daub it around the center. She flinches at the first cold 
taste of it, but then -- since there's nothing she can do about it -- 
quiets down as I lightly stroke. Her asshole is darker than the 
surrounding skin, and tight, so tight -- a little kitten's mouth. I 
massage the opening gently, feeling the texture and the tender softness 
of her opening. At first she is completely closed -- clenched tight 
against my gentle invasion, but I continue to massage the center with my 
fingertip, occasionally adding a drop or two of lotion as lubricant.

After awhile, Hollis begins to let go -- out of fatigue if nothing else 
-- and I press into her just a tiny bit. As soon as I feel her opening 
to my finger, I start stroking her back with my other hand, caressing 
her gently, smoothly.

"That's right," I whisper, "such a good girl Hollis." Gently stroking, 
soothing, and all the time pressing slowly but firmly into her fleshy 
bottom. I continue for a few moments and then push firmly into her ass 
-- steady and deep, right up into her. Hollis arches her back, and 
clutches to my legs, crying out, "Oh my dear Jesus God... My ass -- 
you're... in.. my... ass!" -- and clamps my finger like a warm wet vise 
as her tight squirmy bottom tries to refuse me. She trembles and holds 
onto the bench as I hold her to me, slowly sinking my finger down into 
her cheeks until I'm buried two or three inches into her -- her tight 
ring of muscle twitching spastically around my finger.

After she quiets down again and becomes somewhat used to my finger up 
her ass, I probe deeper, moving in and out as she starts to pant a bit. 
"Oh my ass... my poor bottom... what are you doing to me?" she cries. I 
push back into her with more lotion, this time with two fingers. She has 
to open completely -- I want her bottom to accept me as a natural fact. 
Her face is tense and streaked with tears, but they will dry. She has a 
little control left, but she needs to lose it all. 

I reach around her waist with my other hand and begin to explore the 
soft flesh of her tummy... and lower, the firm naked mound between her 
legs. I find her little button and run a finger up and down the entrance 
to her pussy. I slide a finger into her sex, lean down and kiss her 
cheek.

She pants again, and says, "You're  making me... hot." I can feel her 
muscles tighten and close around my fingers. She is very slippery, front 
and rear. I lean down and whisper in her ear: "Do you know what I'm 
going to do to you Hollis?"

"Do you want to fuck me... in the ass?" She looks back at me from the 
corner of her eyes and clamps down hard on my fingers, which are still 
deep within her. "You'd like that, wouldn't you..." she whispers, "I 
think maybe you really like my ass. All men like my ass."

This girl is speaking truth and I am rock hard to hear it. She pushes 
back with her ass against my hand and shoves my fingers up in her as far 
as they will go, groaning as her eyes close halfway and her body jerks. 
She looks at me with half-closed eyes, whispering, "That's how I want 
you to put it up inside me. Like that. Only not your finger; I want to 
feel the thickness of your cock, hard and slippery inside me. I want to 
feel the head of it pushing me open for the rest to follow. I hope you 
have a big dick."

"That's it Hollis," I say, "You can show me how sorry you are by taking 
it all. Now stand up."  She does, and I stand with her. We face each 
other and I kiss her on the mouth, running my hands over her breasts and 
stomach. "Now Hollis, turn around and put your hands on the bench, 
that's it." She does, and I just have to pause to admire the scene. A 
fit girl in goofy cowboy boots, standing straight legged and bent at the 
waist, hair hanging in a beautiful face, supported by fit legs, smooth 
skin, and a big soft round edible ass just waiting to be sucked and 
spread open. I kneel behind her, spread her cheeks with my hand, and 
lick around the rim of her asshole. All resistance is gone as she leans 
back into my face and my tongue slips into her ass. This only goes on 
for a minute or so, because I suddenly remember that we're in a dressing 
room and we need to get this show on the road before we get caught. 

Plus I can't wait to bust her ass.

I stand up, unzip my trousers, and place my hands on her bottom. It is 
wide and soft and glorious, and I have to get into it now. "Hollis, 
spread your cheeks." She reaches back, still bent over, and without much 
coaching opens her ass to again expose her dark asshole to my eyes. 
Taking the lotion again, I drip some onto my fingers, smearing the fluid 
over the head of my penis and up the shaft. I touch her rosebud with a 
fingerful of lotion and gently push in. At first her ring contracts, and 
then relaxes. Withdrawing my finger, her rosebud is left slightly 
dilated and I reposition move my cock until it rests heavily at the 
softened opening of her bottom. Hollis takes a breath as I grip the 
cheeks of her ass with my hands.

I press at her hole, focusing the weight of my body into a single point 
at the tip of my cock. She's slippery and tight, but as I push just a 
bit I can feel a softness -- a weakness I hadn't felt before. My cock is 
a slick, fat padded stick about to violate her. "Hollis, open your 
cheeks more for me." She does, and takes another deep breath.

"Relax Hollis. Can you feel my cock?"

"Yes," she says, in a tight voice, "I can feel you."

"Am I in the right place?"

She lets out her breath. "Yes... you're pushing right on my -- my 
bottom."

"On your what?"

"On my asshole."

"How does it feel Hollis?"

"BIG."

"I want you to open yourself to me Hollis. Unclench your muscle." Her 
asshole is hard to enter, and my cock slips away. I take myself in hand, 
and press against her opening again. She whimpers, stiff with tension. I 
press my hips forward firmly and hold her, forcing the head of my cock 
against her ring and -- POP -- she cries out as I enter.

"Oh Jesus God my poor bottom... you're in me!" she cries as her tight, 
squirmy ass clamps down on my cock. I press, press, press and my cock 
slowly slides into her ass until I'm halfway in, buried between her 
golden cheeks. "Oh god I can't do this it feels like I have to..." she 
cries as her asshole twitches spastically around my thickness. A tear or 
two traces down from the corner of her eyes as I press again.

"Let go, Hollis," I say. "Relax your bottom. Open yourself to me like a 
flower." It's all I can do not to shoot a load up her ass right away. I 
probe deeper as she quietly gives in to me, slowly moving my cock in and 
out as she pants and begins to relax. I watch in fascination as my cock 
disappears up her dark asshole. When I slowly pull back out, the ring of 
her ass hugs my cock and stretches out, a hostess reluctant to let a 
dinner guest depart. I notice that she's becoming aroused again. Her 
nipples are erect, her face flushed and sweaty. 

I press forward again and that's it -- her ass is impaled and her 
sphincter twitches around the base of my cock. She's weeping a little, 
and her pussy is slick with juice. She doesn't know how to feel about 
this humiliation -- a first class buttfucking in a semi-public venue if 
ever there were one -- but she's getting into it regardless. Suffice it 
to say that this woman had no idea what she was getting into when she 
stole the panties. I'm still moving with the slowest strokes possible, 
when she whispers, "Yes, please yes -- do it to me... Fuck my bottom."

"Fuck your what?"

"Fuck my ass. Please buttfuck me. Please do it." I'm a sucker for trash 
talk from a woman, and I press again. She offers herself up to me and I 
lower my hips until I'm pressed against the cheeks of  her ass, then 
pull out, press in, pull out, a bit faster, a bit harder. Her ass is a 
soft pillow for hungry hips to come home to. Her opening is like a ring 
sliding up the length of my cock and she groans, warm and tight. "Go 
ahead, push it.... push it" she say thickly, "fuck my ass... fuck my 
pretty ass."

I kiss her on the neck as I begin to stroke harder and harder. "I want 
your cock all the way up my ass" she says as she puts her hands back on 
the bench to steady herself. What the hell, I think, and I start banging 
away on her asshole. "Oww! Oww! Oww!" and she reaches a hand between her 
legs to rub her pussy as I fuck her ass for all I'm worth. She starts 
shouting "I want your fucking cock -- fuck me in the fucking ass with 
all of your fucking cock!" A wave of lust and fulfillment rises in me 
and I'm very close. Her bottom spastically grips the base of my cock and 
milks it. She's chanting, it's a rhythm now, "fuck me... fuck me... fuck 
my ass... fuck me deep" and she presses back into my cock as I lurch 
forward, spearing her dark sweetness with my entire length and I think I 
can hear someone knocking on the door but no matter because she says the 
magic words: FUCK IT LIKE YOU OWN IT and I am there and it comes pumping 
from my balls up the shaft and spews violently past the ring of her 
asshole into her body, spastically filling her soft upturned ass with my 
thickness, pouring myself up into her wet sweet golden bottom while she 
weeps and shakes and cries yes...

"Excuse me. Will you be making a purchase?" I hear a voice outside the 
dressing room door say as we begin to catch our breath. "Yes," I say, 
"but we'll need a few more minutes to make up our minds..." and we are 
both sweating and shaking and she leans forward onto the bench, her ass 
still in the air as I pull my softening cock out of her. Her distended 
asshole takes a moment to close, and I pat her lightly on the cheek. 

"Well," I say, "it appears we've rehabilitated you Hollis. Although if 
you persist in shoplifting I'd encourage you to do it in MY store." She 
giggles, panting, resting her head on the bench. 

"What about the panties?" she says, and I think -- yeah, what about 
those fucking panties? I can't walk out with them in my pocket; they're 
stolen. And they sure can't go back on the rack.

"Hollis, we're just going to have to conceal the evidence," I say, and 
pull the panties out of my pocket before wadding them tightly into a 
ball. Her asshole is still loose, slicked with lotion, and my cum is 
beginning to leak out of it. "Think of this as your own personal pocket, 
Hollis," I say. "Open your cheeks for me once more." Amazingly, even 
though she gasps "no" she places her hands, one on each cheek, and 
spreads herself to reveal her asshole to me for the last time. I press 
the balled panties against her hole and can't believe she's actually 
letting me do this, but after a moment's resistance her asshole gives 
way and the satin starts to disappear into her. I enjoy the sight of 
this woman, naked but for her cowboy boots and an absurd blue tail, and 
I leave just a bit of the satin sticking out of her ass. 

She stands, blushing, and begins to reach behind her for the panties but 
I gently reach for her hand and say one word: "No." She is beautiful: 
face flushed and sweating, breasts made for kissing, a flat, fit 
stomach, and a chunky, satin-plugged, cum-filled ass. I hand her the bra 
and the dress. "I'll be going now," I say, and softly kiss her on the 
mouth.

"Wait, will I see you again?" she says.

I think about it for a moment, and tell her I don't think so, because 
her sentence has been reduced on account of good behavior. She smiles, 
and says, "But what about probation?" She whispers her phone number to 
me, we kiss once more, and I slide out of the dressing room.

And I wonder as I walk out of the lingerie department, past the scowling 
clerk and past a real store security officer and past the gray-haired 
shoppers, charge cards in hand: how many people on the street are as 
sick as I am? Who on the street -- seeing Hollis and the awkward walk 
she will have for the next few hours -- who would suspect that her ass 
had been as thoroughly fucked as an ass can be? By a stranger? And that 
she now, for the next hour or two at any rate, wore a satin tail as a 
badge of the encounter?

I wonder.

=====================================================

Assmaster McStuff #3: Assmaster McStuff and the Stolen Panties, April 
10, 1998. Previous Assmaster McStuff (search for it at www.dejanews.com, 
originally posted to alt.sex.stories.moderated):
 
#1: Assmaster McStuff and His E-Mail Honey (MF, anal, light bdsm) 

#2: Girl Talk: Assmaster McStuff Listens In (FF, oral, internet chat)
 
Forthcoming McStuffery: Assmaster McStuff and the Pacific Rim, plus 
letters to the editor. All contents of this posting are copyright 1998, 
Assmaster McStuff. 

Constructive criticism is welcome.

"All stroke, all the time."



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