Message-ID: <7999eli$9804181722@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: Theodore@Spoonbender.demon.co.uk (Spoonbender) Subject: ** NEW Penny's Ruin IX (Revenge, Humour) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: Theodore@Spoonbender.demon.co.uk Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <3537fd7f.1231893397@news.demon.co.uk> Penny's Ruin IX (revenge, humour) **************************************************************************** This short story is not for minors or anyone else that doesn't like to read about young gentlemen being taken advantage of. This is copyright (c) 1998, by Spoonbender. It can be distributed freely as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived it is on the basis that I have unrestricted access to the archive (which means I'm told about it). This is all pure fiction, the figment of a peculiar mind (You don't honestly believe its real do you?) So no characters in it are based on real people, either living or dead. Don't flame me if you don't like my style, I'm still learning the craft. Email me if you have constructive criticism, or if you like it and want more. My address is Theodore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk. ***************************************************************************** Linda Jean always tried to sit near the front in the remedial English class. The sad fact was that her glasses were not exactly matched to her prescription, so much so that she sometimes had cause to curse the old lady from whom she had stolen them. Which meant that she had nearly as much trouble seeing the blackboard (never mind what was written on it) as she did with simple sentence construction. But she shrugged these little annoyances off, especially when her tutor expressed his delight at the fact that she could now read 'Topsy and Tim go to Town' without moving her lips. With just a little more work, she would be able to preclude the use of her finger as well. And after only six months of classes too! No wonder she was proud of herself. And she had good reason to be. An arresting woman of indeterminate years, a living testament to the great strides that had been made in the art of plastic surgery, she naturally attracted the open-mouthed stares of any male she came into contact with. The more malicious, and in her mind, jealous women around her said it had a lot to do with the fact that her latest facelift had left a proboscis in the middle of her forehead. But she looked up her nose at these suggestions. She was a natural redhead, with a tendency to dye her roots black, "To make myself look interesting!" she proclaimed, gaily, to anyone who would listen. At least they thought that's what she said but her thick, guttural accent made it sound more like a series of barked orders in a Balkan concentration camp. Which she had nothing to do with, no siree, and she'd challenge anyone to prove it. Unfortunately she had accidentally burned all the papers that could have proved her ingenuousness. But one look into her innocent eyes, especially the brown one, would have convinced even the most sceptical observer that she was as pure as the driven snow. On any Moscow highway they'd care to name. Now she listened intently as her tutor spoke. "Can anybody give me an example of a consonant?....Yes, Linda Jean?" "America!" she proclaimed proudly. "Asia is also a consonant," she added , showing off her skills to the rest of the bewildered class. The tutor smiled. "Close," he said, patiently. "But the answer I was looking for was a letter of the alphabet........." Just then the bell rang signalling the end of the class. "......Ok people, can you remember to bring your exercise books into the next class. I'd like to go through them with you. See you next week," he concluded, then started to clean the board as the class filed out behind him. Finally the door closed and he turned, to find Linda Jean hadn't moved from her seat. "Can I help you, Linda Jean?" he asked mildly. "Can I ask you something, Theodore?" she husked. He smiled. "Of course." "Do you find me attractive?" "I find you a very striking woman," he said, carefully, and then added sotto voce, "In the pugilistic sense." Now it was her turn to smile. "That is good. Would you come to a bar for a drink with me?" He couldn't see any escape, but he consoled himself with the fact that he'd be safe with her as an escort. No self-respecting street gang, with a healthy sense of self preservation, would dare attack him with her around. So he answered, "Ok, but it must be a quick one as I have a lot of grading to do tonight." "A quick one. I'd like that." she mused out loud. Theodore gulped. ************************************************************************** "I will buy them," she said as they reached the bar. "What will you have?" "A beer would be fine." "A beer and a whisky, please," she said as she muscled in through the throng of steelworkers that crowded around the bar. "Hey! I was here first....." a hulking brute of a man started to protest, but tailed off in confusion as she caught his eye. "Oh it's you, Linda Jean" said Greasy Eddie, the barman, as he replaced the shot glass with the mug that she was accustomed to. His hands shook as he poured the whisky and he wiped the sweat off, on his stained tee shirt, after carefully handing her the bottle. "How much is that?" she asked. "I'll buy it," blurted the petrified steelworker. "Thank you," she simpered. "Think nothing of it," the man replied in a relieved tone of voice. The bar was crowded as they made their way to the rear where the private booths were. "Are these seats taken?" she enquired to the group of stevedores that crowded into the booth. They shook their heads. "We was just leaving," one of them muttered, as they scuttled out of range. They took their seats, thigh by thigh. Theodore nervously sipped his beer, while she threw the tumbler of whisky down her throat with a satisfied sigh, followed by a gut-rumbling belch. "Excuse me!" she giggled coquettishly. "That's ok," he mumbled. "You are a real gentleman," she proclaimed in a voice loud enough to rattle their glasses. "And that is why I like you." With that she put her beefy arm around his shoulder. It was like God's wrath had descended on him and would have caused a lesser man to scream repentance and renounce all sins of the flesh. But teaching at an adult education centre for four years had given Theodore the carapace of a stag beetle, although even he was beginning to feel a little queasy as she belched lightly in his ear. "My house is around the corner," her whisper boomed around the bar, causing the nearest men to glance across at him in sympathy, mixed with a substantial dollop of relief. "Right." he said as decisively as he could, given the circumstances. "I must be going." "Yes. This too am I thinking," her excitement causing her to revert to her native vernacular. And with that she sprang up, grabbed the bottle and proceeded to push her way through the throng. With him bobbing in her wake like a cork, her beefy paw squeezing his upper arm in a vicelike grip, as she hauled him along. "Vice! That was an unfortunate simile," he thought, as the crowd parted magically in front of them. He could have sworn that at least half of the men present patted him reassuringly on the back as he was dragged away and he could see his whole life flashing in front of his eyes as the terrible possibilities loomed ahead of him. Survival became uppermost in his mind. But, by now, it was far too late. ************************************************************************** There was an artist not too long ago, who draped the Bundestag building in swathes of cloth as an artistic statement. It was a mammoth undertaking, and one that he attacked with gusto and panache. But even he would have blanched at the task of clothing Linda Jean. Never mind unveiling her. The actual unveiling itself was an awesome sight and Theodore sat quietly watching with the fascination of a snake in the thrall of a mongoose. He was sure he was going to die, but he had no control over it so he sat quietly and tried to think of pleasant things as his last few moments slipped quietly away. "You like?" she pouted, in what she fondly imagined was a sexy way, as she dropped her voluminous panties, which contained enough material to provide loincloths for a complete Masai tribe. As Theodore struggled to articulate his true feelings she completely crushed his confidence by unleashing her pendulous breasts. Usually, when he tried to describe breasts, he struggled to find a superlative that could come anywhere close to articulating what he thought of them. But in this case an expletive seemed more appropriate. "Fuck!" he said. She fluttered her eyes at him then held them up for his inspection. "Is good yes?" "They're bloody huge!" he blurted. She took this as a sign of approval and launched herself at him, burying his head between her outsized mammaries. As he flailed and thrashed in mortal terror, she proceeded to strip his trousers and underpants off. Then, with no respite, she gripped his prick like she was intending to rip it off and nail it to her bedroom wall as a trophy. Fortunately he was able to snatch a breath when she pulled his head from between her breasts and proceeded to kiss him, while her paw worked overtime down below. Theodore's immediate impression was that he had become entrapped in the mouth of one of those suction machines they use to retrieve artefacts from the seabed and again his panic mounted. The gods had obviously decided that he'd suffered enough and his erection grew under her not- too-delicate ministrations. She pulled away from his mouth leaving him gasping for breath as she looked down at his fully erect member and for one terrifying moment he was convinced that she was going to lift him up by it so she could have a closer look. Again lady luck was feeling benevolent and Linda Jean nodded her satisfaction. "Now we fuck yes?" What could he say? He was still gasping for air and so he missed his last possible opportunity for a reprieve. She pushed him down onto the bed then flopped herself on top of him. It was like being crushed by a barrage balloon filled with warm porridge and he was sure that his poor penis was going to get snapped off like a twig. But it was obviously made of sterner stuff than he gave it credit for, for it retained its insistence even as she manoeuvred it like a rather recalcitrant gear shift towards her soaking pussy. As she dropped down on it, he had a fleeting thought that she should at least allowed him to tie one of his ankles to the bedpost for, if her cunt was anything like the rest of her, then he could get lost in there for days. But she was surprisingly small down there and, although his fear still peaked from time to time, it actually felt relatively pleasant. Faster and faster she humped with a solipsism that would have made a toddler blush, banging him down into the mattress like she was sinking the foundations for a new office block, causing him to grunt in time, as the air was forced from his lungs. "Aaaaaaargh!" she boomed as her orgasm hit her and her pussy muscles squeezed his cock like she was trying to get the pips out of it. Luckily at this point, his will to live performed a timely intervention and he came inside her as she continued to puree his smothered member. Finally it was over and, terrified that she was going to fall down on top of him, he found hidden reserves of strength and managed to scuttle out from under her. She flopped back on the bed and sighed contentedly while he ruefully surveyed the ruins of his clothes. Just as he finished dressing, she opened her eyes. He opened his wallet, took out all his money and proffered it to her. She looked puzzled. "What is this for?" "You've stolen everything else from me. You might as well have this too," he snapped, then stormed off into the night. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |