Message-ID: <18715eli$9901212218@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year99/18715.txt> From: M Quayle <okieram@telepath.com> Subject: A "Farrell" Story (Late for Dinner) Chapter 35: Works for Me (S&M Family fun, miniature golf) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: okieram@telepath.com MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1 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: <368987FA.31E0@telepath.com> Your comments and plot ideas always welcome. New chapters are posted regularly to alt.torture, alt.sadistic, alt.sex.stories, and alt.sex.stories.moderated. You can also find complete story in the alt.sex.stories.moderated archive at www.qz.to/erotica/assm (December 1998 file). >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> WARNING! This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains Strong Sexual Content and Lame Attempts at Humor. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only, and the author does not in any way condone or encourage similar behavior even if it was safe or conformed to the laws of physics. If you are under or over the age of 18 or reside in a state (or state of mind) that prohibits such behavior, stop reading this stuff immediately or you’ll grow hair on your palms!!! Remember: DON’T DO THIS AT HOME!!!!! <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< copyright 1998 by M Quayle (a pseudonym) All rights reserved. Do not repost or post without permission of author. Late for Dinner Chapter 35: Works for Me! Kathy lay on her taunt belly as the doctor lubed up her rear entrance. “I really don’t like it back there,” she gently pleaded. “I’m really tight in front and my Daddy says he can’t tell the difference.” “Sorry, sweety,” the doctor smiled wickedly, “I’ve had my eyes on your little poop chute ever since we peeled you off that pool table.” He lowered himself over Kathy’s supine form. “I’m sure your honey pot will get plenty of action tonight, but right now,” he aligned himself with her narrower opening, “I‘m playing proctologist.” Kathy bit into the clubhouse’s thick shag carpet as the meaty invader sent shock waves of ripping white agony through her body. She could feel his weight press the air out of her as he rested against her back and pumped rhythmically against her hips. She tried to kick and claw her way to freedom but unseen hands quickly pinned her arms and legs to the floor. “Just let it happen,” Mommy soothed. “Stop fighting and I’ll let go of your hands.” “I’m sorry, Mommy,” Kathy sobbed from underneath the heaving healer, “I’m just so horny,” she puffed, “I just want to cum for a change.” “It’s okay,” Mommy loosed her grip and stroked her daughter’s sweat-streaked hair. “I’m sure you’ll cum plenty of times before the evening’s over.” The doctor forced himself deeper and deeper into Kathy’s nether reaches and the pretty blonde was sure he would momentarily pop out her mouth. However much she had appreciated his medical expertise in the aftermath of Friday night’s merry mix-up and enjoyed his probing office examination, she was going to have to seriously reexamine her opinion of his bedside manner. Time seemed to stop as the assault continued. Although she could see Mommy gracefully riding a dignified-looking man and envied her happy sighs as she reached peak after peak of pleasure, Kathy seemed to be spiraling endlessly downward toward an ever-receding oblivion. Had the immortal “O,” the legendary heroine of the second sexual revolution, really given herself so to the entire French nation? Or, was “O,” as her history teacher maintained, merely a character in a novel by Pauline Rage who was given life by propagandists to inspire submissive women to surrender to their desires and serve the whims of all men? Kathy pondered such mysteries as her physical existence became terrifyingly transparent from the awful tearing of her bottom and the alarming lack of air in her lungs. Finally, she felt the invader evacuate the constricted chasm and cover her salty face with minty seed. The world seemed to come back into focus as the doctor patted her on the top of her tousled head and made way for her next partner. The handsome young man asked Kathy to lie back and relax as he entered her in the way she longed for and she soon forgot the rivulet of blood that tricked between her thighs. At last, she thought, someone who spoke her language! She wrapped herself around the shining hero and journeyed with him over hill and dale then dug her long fingernails into his ribs as he carried her farther and farther away from the abyss into which she’d sunk such a short time ago. Later, after two more heavenly male encounters, Kathy curled like a kitten with her head on Mommy’s tummy. “I’m sorry I’m such a spoiled ingrate,” she apologized. “I really should be flattered that such a distinguished doctor would even be attracted to a little schoolgirl like me.” It’s okay, honey,” Mommy stroked the satiated girl’s wet hair, “sometimes you just have to do your chores before you can have your fun.” The two women snuggled together in the now empty clubhouse and listened to the sounds coming from the miniature golf course. Between the snippets of laughter and music that floated in through the open windows, Kathy suddenly heard a sharp “yip” that she recognized as that of her beloved. “Oh, my gosh, Mommy,” Kathy sat up straight, “Christi’s still playing golf, we’d better go check on her.” Kathy and Mommy quickly straightened their nylons and “borrowed” a couple of promotional T-shirts to warm their shoulders from the evening’s chill then hurried to the 17th hole. “Hi, guys,” Christi smiled blissfully as a golfer tapped a two-foot putt and the ball disappeared into Christi’s stretched sweetness. The player pushed the return button, sparking a “zap” from the machine and an orgasmic “yip” from Christi as the tiny sphere rocketed back into its owner’s hand. “This is a great job,” Christi beamed blissfully. “I could do this all day.” “Yeah, I can see your resume now,” Kathy cackled, “head cheerleader, winner of the school’s Submissive Miss competition, almost-lesbian, torture mouse, and ball return machine.” “Works for me!” Christi grinned as Kathy held the button down to bring the happy brunette to a sustained electrical climax. “I think I’m going to start calling you ‘Sparky’,” Kathy teased. “You keep this up and you won’t need batteries to run your vibrator.” -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>