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From: corvidae1@aol.com (Corvidae1)
Subject: (ASS/M)RP: Any Other Way- B (F/m)
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* * * *    
  
                                 Any Other Way        
        
                                 by L.Corvidae 
Part Two:

   Aislinn, with Jake's unrelentingly engorged penis still inside her,        
lowered her hot sweaty body on top of his, and lapped idly at the rivulets     
  
of sweat that soaked his skin.        
        
   In a little while, she told herself, feeling selfish and mean and        
unspeakably satisfied; in a little while she'd take off the cock rings.        
        
   But Aislinn Roylance had already decided that the rest of the bonds        
would stay on, at least until the sun came up, and her thoughts raced to       

the unexpectedly vast possibilities that lay beyond.        
        
   She had just begun to succumb to an overwhelming drowsiness when she        
heard Jake's plaintive, shaky voice say her name.        
        
   "Please," he begged, shivering, "Take them off!"        
        
   "Oh!" she squeaked, suddenly remembering, and twisted herself into a        
sloppy push-up.        
        
   "Just a 'mo," she chirped perkily, planting a sweet little kiss on his      
 
dry lips.        
        
   She wormed her way off the bed and began to pad across the room on her      
 
bare feet. She scooted through the house naked and went into the kitchen,      
 
filling an oversized plastic cup with ice. She toddled back to Jake and        
paused at the foot of the bed. His member was still painfully swollen and      
 
had an unsettling purplish cast to it. He was making soft, pained        
whimpering sounds.        
        
   "Ho-kay," she sighed, seating herself between his splayed legs. "This       

is gonna be a leeetle bit uncomfortable."        
        
   She took a cube of ice into her left hand and touched it to the        
engorged flesh between the two rings. Jake screamed in raw agony, shaking      
 
her to the core. For a moment she enjoyed his pain all over again, feeling     
  
a tiny bit of that warmth creep through her; but she began to realize that     
  
his erection wasn't abating at all.        
        
   "Uh...." she muttered nervously, grabbing some more ice in her other        
hand. Her left palm was beginning to burn from the cold. He was making        
piteous, keening noises as she fervently pressed the melting mass against      
 
her tortured skin. It wasn't working.        
        
   "Crap!" she cried out, beginning to panic. Jake called out for her        
again, terrified and tormented.        
        
   She rubbed his balls against a big chunk of cubes fused together. It        
wasn't working at all.        
        
   "Crap! Crap! CRAP!" she screamed. Jake cried out in fear.        
        
   Aislinn moved swiftly to untie his feet and then fumbled the key to the     
  
cuffs in her cold-numbed hands. She freed him, the sweat on her body        
beginning to run again as she felt a mounting horror swell within her in a     
  
monstrous parody of the now-forgotten blossoming of her lust.        
        
   She pulled him into a sitting position as he rubbed his wrists,        
groaning. She didn't even think to remove the blindfold; half guiding half     
  
dragging him through the room and into the bathroom.        
        
   She dumped him in the tub, stopped it up frantically, and then left him     
  
as it filled with cold water while she dashed back to the kitchen for more     
  
ice and some butter.        
        
   The water was up to his waist when she got back. She turned it off and      
 
glanced hopefully at Jake's cock. It was still hard.        
        
   "CRAP!" she shrieked, dumping the ice into the tub, eliciting another       

exhausted moan from Jake.        
        
   Aislinn scooped out a handful of butter, knelt down next to him, and        
began to determinedly went to work, greasing up his penis. The water        
turned cloudy, obstructing her view and her arms went numb up to the        
elbows. Tears began to stream down her face, merge with her sweat, and        
drip into the tub.        
        
   "C'mon, sweetheart!" she begged, trying to keep the hysteria from her       

voice as she struggled to wrench the ring nearest the head loose. "Think       

unsexy thoughts for me!"        
        
   "Tell me about work!" she pleaded. "Still have to fly to California?"       

        
   "Bastards!" he croaked bitterly. Aislinn broke into a crazed giggle. It     
  
was good to know that in spite of everything, Jake's hatred of his job        
remained a constant.        
        
   Suddenly, gloriously, the ring pulled free. Jake's throat was raw and       

dry, but he still managed to bellow in intense agony. The sudden jerk        
caused Aislinn's bare knees to slip on the linoleum floor and she nearly       

broke her teeth again on the cast-iron side of the tub.        
        
   Jake was making noises out of some nightmare as blood returned in force     
  
to the compressed tissue.        
        
   Aislinn was shaking, sobbing. She crawled back into position and took       

another scoop of butter, ducking her hands back into the murky water,        
fumbling for the base of his penis and the second ring.        
        
   She swore that no matter what happened, she was castrating Gary. It had     
  
been his fucking idea and his fucking rings. He'd suggested she tie Jake       

up, and when she tried to explain that her fear went deeper than that,        
he'd had the "bright" idea to use the cock-rings to "Chain up" Jake's        
manhood. And what killed her, what incensed her into a white hot ball of       

fury, was that she had ASKED about getting them off again, that she had        
voiced a serious concern of just that thing. And Gary had just laughed and     
  
suggested she use "a little ice."        
        
   "Butthead!" she swore hatefully.        
        
   The second ring gave a little. She shut her eyes and thanked God, whom      
 
she hadn't felt she was fit to pray to, but had prayed for Jake's sake        
anyway.        
        
   Jake was screaming her name, over and over again. He suddenly reached       

out and grabbed a handful of her hair, jerking it violently. She grunted       

in pain but kept working the ring. It slid, millimeter by millimeter.        
        
   "COME ON!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "COME ON!"        
        
   And then she was sitting on her butt, wedged between the toilet and        
bathtub, the ring in her hand, Jake wallowing from side to side in the        
frigid water, weeping uncontrollably.        
        
   "thank you," she whispered as the exhaustion slammed into every cell in     
  
her body.         
        
   "thankyouthankyouthnakyouthankyou...." she said, and then the darkness      
 
claimed her.        
        
* * * *         
        
   Aislinn woke in her nightgown, tucked comfortably into bed. She sat up      
 
and looked around, but there was no sign of Jake. A cursory search of the      
 
house revealed no note, but the butter was back in the fridge and the        
rings were laid out next to each other on her vanity. Jake's clothes were      
 
still in the closet, but his car was gone.         
        
   She showered and dressed in cut-off jeans and a hockey jersey with the      
 
insignia of the Klingon Empire on it. It was Jake's, but she'd loved it        
from the start, loved loosing herself in its large, soft folds. Her hands      
 
shook as she fixed coffee, feeling guilty and heartsick.        
        
   She picked up the phone and called Jake's work. She asked for him, and      
 
almost broke out crying when she heard his voice.        
        
   "Hi, sweetheart," he said wearily.         
        
   "Hi," she said, dragging out the "i" sound. "Are you... are you okay?"      
 
        
   He sighed heavily on the other end. "Been a shitty day, sweetheart. I       

can't feel my thumbs."        
        
   "WHAT?" she cried out.        
        
   He sighed again. "I don't know. It's scaring the hell out of me, can't      
 
seem to get the blood back to 'em." He sighed again. "Fucked up one        
prototype, sent the blade right through its head."        
        
   "Oh no!" she moaned. There was a pause as she steadied herself to ask       

the question that had haunted her upon waking. "How....?"         
        
   "I don't want to talk about that on the phone. I... it hurts Aislinn. I     
  
might be coming home early."        
        
   "I'm sorry!" she wept into the phone. "I'm so sorry!"        
        
   A heavy, weary sigh.        
        
   "We'll talk about it when I get home," he finally said. "But-"        
        
   "Yes?" she asked, teary-eyed and trembling.        
        
   "I want you to know: I love you."        
        
   She heard the line go dead and sank to the floor, the handset still in      
 
her grip. She curled into a ball and began to cry softly; though whether       

they were tears of sorrow or relief, even she couldn't say.        
        
    Finally, she screwed up enough strength to pull herself off the floor.     
  
She stormed into the bathroom to get the rings, and then charged back into     
  
the kitchen to grab her keys off the hook by the kitchen door. Aislinn        
climbed into her Trooper, and drove off, headed towards town.        
        
* * * *        
        
   Gary was just reclining the musty old high-backed leather chair in his      
 
musty old law office when he heard Grace squawk over the rattletrap        
intercom, "Sir, a Miss..."         
        
   Grace didn't get to finish as Aislinn erupted through the door to the       

reception area and stomped across the slightly molded Persian carpet he'd      
 
picked up at a garage sale; and with a fiery cry of vengeance, flung the       

two rings at him even as he rose to greet her.        
        
   "Ais... OW!" he cried as one ricocheted off his forehead.        
        
   "A little ice my ass! Those fucking things almost cut his cock off!"        
        
   He could see Grace's beehive hairdo and horn-rims peeking out from        
around the doorway.        
        
   "You go on to lunch now, Gracie!" he called, forcing a smile.        
        
   He watched her disappear, regarded Aislinn's fuming countenance, and        
curiously picked one of the rings off the floor where it had landed.        
        
   "Damn," he said to himself, really. "You don't say."        
        
   "You said you used those things!" she snarled.        
        
   "I did!" he protested. "I never had any problems! Damn, I didn't think      
 
Jake was... he was..." Gary ran his finger around the inside of the        
circle. "Damn," he whispered again, sounding awed and a little envious.        
        
   "It's my fault," he whispered softly. He looked up from the ring and        
met her baleful gaze. "Tell him it's all my fault."        
        
   She wanted to reply; to cut him down and decimate him under the force       

of her anger, but the words choked in the back of her throat. She just        
shook her head sadly and walked away, leaving Gary to worry and wonder        
what he had done to his best friend in the world.        
        
*  *  *  *         
        
    Jake had gotten home before she did. She found him on the couch in his     
  
undershirt and jockeys, with an icebag planted firmly between his legs.        
        
   The sight of him like that dropped her to her knees. She took his hand      
 
in hers and planted her forehead on his knee.        
        
   "Oh Jake, I'm so sorry!"        
        
   He let out a deep breath, and then a tired little chuckle.        
        
   "NOT how I pictured our first time being," he said, lifting her face up     
  
with his other hand so she could see the wry grin on his face.        
        
   She gave a nervous giggle in reply, then asked, "Does it hurt bad?"        
        
   He shot her an "Are you kidding?" look and she turned away, flinching.      
 
        
   "It's my hands that really bother me Aislinn, I can't sculpt with out       

my hands."        
        
   She tried to massage the heel of his hand in some foolish hope that all     
  
it needed was a little TLC, but she could see it in his eyes that he        
couldn't feel it.        
        
   "Okay," she said, standing unsteadily, "I'm going to get your sweat        
pants and we're going to see the doctor!"        
        
*  *  *  *        
        
   "Can you feel that?" Dr. Watterson asked, poking at Jake's thumb with a     
  
small hook.        
        
   "Ow!"        
        
   "Well, you can still feel pain," she said, sounding cheerfully        
professional about it, "That's always a good sign."        
        
   "Great," Jake moaned. Aislinn squeezed his other hand.        
        
   Of course, Jake thought, of COURSE Dr. Kindler had to pick today of all     
  
days to play golf. Dr. Watterson was young, tall, blonde and gorgeous; and     
  
having to expose his withered, black and blue penis to her ranked right up     
  
there with walking in on his first serious girlfriend and another guy as       

the most humiliating moment of his life.        
        
   To top it off, he'd had to explain the whole damn thing himself.        
Aislinn had insisted on staying by his side the whole time, but when the       

time came for explanations, she found herself rendered mute with the        
shame.        
        
   Still, after gingerly examining the wounded member - an experience Jake     
  
did not find as enjoyable as he would have otherwise had hoped - some life     
  
began to still in it after all, eliciting a groan out of Jake and a guilty     
  
little whimper out of Aislinn.        
        
   "Well, looks like you lucked out," Dr. Watterson explained. "A little       

narrower in diameter and the damage might have been permanent. As it is,       

you clearly seem capable of still having an erection." She smiled,        
bemused, at the couple who both looked away red-faced.        
        
   "As for your hands, I'd say there was no serious nerve damage. Take it      
 
easy for a week and if it's still a problem, we'd better get you to a        
hospital for tests, but you can wiggle them pretty good, and you can feel      
 
pain, so I think we'll be okay."        
        
   She paused, waiting until they both returned her gaze.        
        
   "May I make a suggestion?"        
        
   They both looked at her expectantly.        
        
   "If you kids are going to engage in this type of activity, at least        
read a book or two on the subject, will you? Find out how to do it        
safely?"        
        
   Jake began to chuckle in spite of himself, but Aislinn sighed deeply,       

and laid her head to rest against his shoulder.        
        
   They next day, while he took off from work and sat around the house        
watching reruns of old cop shows on A&E, Aislinn drove all the way down to     
  
the city. There, she bought a book.    


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