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Subject: {ASSM} My Reward, CH48 (MC, Mf)
Date: Thu, 3 Feb 2000 00:10:03 -0500
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My Reward
By Azil
Copyright 1998-2000
This chapter and the preceding forty-seven are available at
www.storiesonline.net.
Disclaimers:
This is a work of fiction. No character is meant to resemble any specific
person, living or dead.
Sexual actions of various types will be depicted in this story. This does
not mean that the author approves of these actions, has ever performed any
of them, or would perform them if given the opportunity. (Nor does it mean
that he doesn't, hasn't, and/or wouldn't).
This is inappropriate reading material for minors. In many jurisdictions it
may be illegal for minors to read it, or for adults to make it available for
minors to read. The author urges you not to disobey these laws. Even if it
isn't illegal where you are, keep it away from kids anyway.
CHAPTER 48: SARAH WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE
Things were quiet for the next couple weeks. Or as quiet as they ever get in
my various lives.
I blame myself for what happened next. I had become so absorbed in my
various adventures and so distracted that I didn't see that Sarah and Thomas
had both become distant, and that Sarah was even more sullen and cold than
usual. Something was on their minds, but I didn't realize it.
What was on Thomas's mind was to take a while to become apparent. Sarah
moved more quickly -- it was in the middle of the month that Ashley called
Tom O'Malley one weekday afternoon just after school let out, telling him
tearfully that he had to come to her house immediately.
When I got there, Ashley met me at the front door, her eyes red with crying.
She led me into the living room, where I was surprised to find Sarah,
looking very smug.
It took no mental giant to work out that Sarah's smugness and Ashley's tears
were related -- somehow Sarah had just scored big in her war with Ashley.
"So what's the story, Sarah?" I asked.
"Well, Tom, you see . . . ever since you informed me at the football game
that all I was was a good piece of ass, I've been thinking . . . ." She
spoke with a self-satisfied smirk, clearly believing herself to be in total
control of the situation.
"I decided that I was going the wrong way in my life, and I'd be inclined to
thank you for straightening me out, except," she laughed and put out her
hands in supplication, "how can I do that when you and Ashley are continuing
in the behavior I've renounced?"
I said nothing -- merely noting to myself that it appeared to be a
well-rehearsed speech.
"I see you doing such awful things to my good friend, Ashley -- wild orgies
at your beach house, anal sex," she tried to express horror, but it was a
poor performance. "Well," she went on, "how can I let such things continue?"
"How indeed?" I agreed. "So what are you going to do about it?" I sat down
and gestured Ashley to sit next to me, pulling her close and putting her
head on my shoulder. She had stopped crying now, but buried her face against
me.
"I plan to go to the police and get your nasty ass thrown in jail where it
belongs," she snarled, before returning to her pose. "You've been having sex
with at least two underage girls, and probably dozens of others."
"No doubt," I agreed with a laugh, giving Ashley a kiss on her nose. She
tried to smile at me, but was too frightened.
"Tom, I'm so sorry," she said, starting to cry again, "I never should have
invited her to your place -- this wouldn't have happened."
"Maybe I'll go to the FBI," Sarah mused. "You took us across state lines,
you know."
"I'd do the FBI, if I were you," I advised. "So much more impressive than
the
Phoenix PD."
Sarah laughed. "You're doing a good job of trying to be Joe Cool about this
-- I suppose you think I'm joking, but . . . ."
She was right that my calm demeanor was a put-on. I was boiling mad, but
it's easy to ignore threats and maintain a veneer of calm when you've got
Reward on your side. "No, actually, I don't think you're joking," I
answered, "but I also don't think you're planning to go to the police. What
does that gain you? It doesn't seem like the Sarah Mallory style --
blackmail seems more likely."
"You certainly are a very smart guy -- just like Ashley always says. Yep,
blackmail it is," she said with another laugh. "You know, in the movies the
blackmailer always says something like "blackmail is such an ugly term" and
then suggests some euphemism. I don't mind it at all."
I asked for her terms.
"Don't pay her, Tom!" Ashley pleaded. "She can't prove anything."
Sarah laughed again -- she was really enjoying herself. "You think I didn't
think of that, you stupid little bitch? I don't have to prove anything. So
what if he gets off? The publicity will still ruin him and his business."
She returned her attention to me. "I want a million up front and twenty-five
thousand a month for the next seven years. At that point, the statute of
limitations expires and you're off."
I didn't know what the statute of limitations was on statutory rape and
interstate transport of underage girls, but it appeared Sarah had done her
homework, and I saw no point in challenging her legal analysis. I rather
admired her for not thinking small. I also idly wondered what a guy in this
position would do without Reward. Would I pay up or try to brazen it out?
Would I bargain with her, or kill her? I think I might very well try to kill
her. Oh well, I'd never know.
"What makes you think I have that kind of money?" I asked.
"I've seen your house."
"Good point," I replied, "but that doesn't mean I have a million in cash
lying around."
"I'll give you a week," she answered, getting up. "Sorry to leave, but I
have homework to do. Don't forget the test in Spanish, Ashley," she added
cheerily.
"Won't your parents think it a bit strange when you suddenly have a bulging
bank account?" I asked.
"Screw 'em."
"Another good answer," I replied. "Okay, I'll get you your money within the
next few days. See you later, Sarah."
My daughter left, still very sure of herself, but perhaps wondering about
how easily I'd capitulated. I was happy to let her wonder.
When she was gone, Ashley again cried on my shoulder, apologizing for
introducing Sarah into our midst. "She used to be such a good friend," she
said wonderingly. "I don't know what happened to her."
"I wonder about that too," I said. "But let's not worry about Sarah right
now." I held her close and kissed her lightly on her forehead, her eyes, her
nose.
We cuddled like that for quite a long time. I honestly had no intentions of
doing anything sexual; it didn't seem like the right atmosphere. But I
forgot that sex can be, among its many other qualities, a great healer. As
we kissed and embraced, Ashley, already emotionally overwrought, became
steadily more excited, her hands beginning to run down my back.
"Tom," she said at last, "let's go to my room."
As we walked down the hall, she said, "Do you remember, this is where we did
it the first time?"
I remembered. The room was still the same teenage mess as before; I wondered
if the crumpled McDonald's bag on the floor was the same one that had been
there almost a year and a half before.
"I remember that you were very shy and uncertain of yourself," I said,
kissing her. "I remember you didn't think you were very sexually
attractive," I added, beginning to unbutton her blouse, as she smiled
happily at me. "I remember you thought your breasts were too small."
"I still do," she answered, giggling. "But all that matters is that you like
them . . . and that you love me."
"I do and I do."
We embraced in a long, deep kiss that ended only when we couldn't breathe.
Ashley finally pulled away, saying we needed to hurry, because her parents
would be home soon.
She turned toward the bed, and I had another flashback. I remembered playing
with her body that day as we looked into the big mirror over her dresser,
and telling her what I was doing as she gradually became aroused and ready
to have sex with me for the first time.
I told Reward to send Ashley's parents on a long errand, and removed her
worry about their return. Then I stopped her with a hand around her waist.
My other hand reached under her open blouse and cupped her breast. "Do you
remember, Ashley?" I asked softly. "Do you remember watching in the mirror
as I stroked your breasts?"
She smiled and nodded, looking at my hand caressing her small breast through
her bra, as the other hand rubbed her flat belly.
"Do you remember that I told you how beautiful you are, and that I took your
bra off, and that I pinched your nipples like this?" I pulled her nipples
out away from her body, then released them and again cupped the two breasts.
Ashley just looked at her reflection in the mirror and leaned against me,
breathing faster.
I nibbled on her neck and ear, as one of my hands traveled down her body,
slipping under the waist of her skirt. "Do you remember that I took your
panties off and touched your pussy for the first time and you were very
wet?"
She was whining slightly now, her eyes closed, as my finger slid into her
hot pussy. "Do you remember that I told you that I was going to make love to
you, that I was getting your hot pussy ready for my cock?"
"Oh god, Tom, I'm ready."
I released the button on her skirt and it dropped to the floor, then I
lowered her panties to the middle of her thighs, as far as I could push
them. "Look at yourself," I whispered in her ear as my finger again entered
her. "You're getting finger-fucked," I said, "and your pussy is wet and hot,
and you're turning me on."
She turned to kiss me. "I want you turned on."
"Then why don't you finger yourself," I suggested, "and we'll both watch."
Ashley had never masturbated with me present, but she was hot enough to try
anything. She slipped a finger into her vagina, grinning sheepishly at the
mirror. I again slid both my hands over her breasts and began massaging
them, simultaneously rubbing the nipples between my thumbs and index
fingers.
Ashley was getting more excited, and was now staring at herself in the
mirror. "Are you hot, Ashley?" I asked. She nodded, slack-jawed. "Then open
your pussy wide for me," I whispered. "Use both hands."
She reached between her legs, parting the lips of her pussy, exposing the
pink interior and the very erect clitoris, which she began to rub lightly.
"You're wide open for me, aren't you, Ashley?" I asked, kissing lightly on
her ear as I whispered.
She looked into the mirror, then grinned, saying, "God, this is so dirty."
I laughed softly. "Are you a dirty girl?"
Again she grinned, then put on a little girl voice, simpering into the
mirror. "No, I'm a sweet innocent girl who's being taken advantage of by a
nasty man, just like Sarah says." She turned her head and kissed me. "Fuck
me, nasty man."
We were only about a foot from her bed, and she bent over, supporting
herself with her hands on the bed. "Come on," she said with another simper,
"Put your nasty cock in my sweet innocent little pussy."
I couldn't resist that invitation, particularly as it was underlined by a
wiggle of Ashley's shapely ass. I reached under that ass to separate the
pouting lips of her pussy and slid my cock into her. I had not been
exaggerating when I said it was wet -- my cock slid in easily.
Ashley and I had by now had sex many times -- dozens, hundreds of times. But
I never tired of her, never was bored.
Her pussy gripped my cock tightly as I entered her, and when I was fully in
her she sighed softly and moved her ass, trying to get just a bit more. Then
she was still and said softly, "Don't move, Tom, I just want to feel you in
me."
I didn't move, but I couldn't resist returning to our game. "Look at
yourself in the mirror, little girl. Look at the nasty man fucking you."
She looked up to see me grinning at her, and herself bent over to receive my
cock. She giggled softly. "Man, this is so strange. I feel like a voyeur,
watching myself get fucked." She wiggled her ass, laughing at the image of
herself. "Come on, nasty guy," she said then, "why aren't you fucking me?
Don't you like sweet innocent girls?"
I pulled out and pushed back into her, a bit harder than usual. "Yeah," I
said gruffly, "I like to fuck sweet innocent girls real hard, because
they're not used to it."
Ashley grunted as my cock drove into her, then pushed back. "Oh yeah, do it
hard to me, nasty man, do it real hard."
Then we quit the game and just went at it as hard as we could, driving the
ugly images of betrayal out of our memories with the fervor of our coupling.
I grabbed Ashley's hips and slammed my cock into her hard and fast, while
she pushed her cunt back at me with equal passion. There was no way we could
fuck at such a pace for long, and it was only a few moments before Ashley
was climaxing, her squeals of delight ringing through the room and
convulsion rippling through her body. Just a stroke or two more and I was
shooting into her.
Ashley fell forward onto the bed, and I lay down beside her. If I thought we
were done, though, I was greatly mistaken. As soon as I was on the bed,
Ashley rolled over and spread her thighs. "Do me again, nasty man," she said
with a leer.
I laughed. "You know, I don't think you're as sweet and innocent as you
pretend to be."
Ashley took the opportunity to change the game. She stuck two fingers in her
pussy and began to run them in and out. "I'm not. I'm a dirty, nasty little
slut, and I want a hard cock in my slut pussy." Unfortunately, Ashley had a
hard time with this role, and started to giggle.
I tried not to laugh at her. "Any hard cock," I asked, "or is there a
particular cock you'd prefer?"
Working hard at keeping a straight face and trying to sound tough, she
answered, "Stick your cock in me and I'll decide if it's hard enough for me.
If not I'll go out and spread my legs on the sidewalk and let the whole
neighborhood fuck me."
We both laughed at that image.
"Well," I said, as seriously as I could, "I guess I'd better fuck you then,
because I don't want you corrupting all the little boys around here."
I rolled atop her and kissed her deeply, caressing her breasts, then moving
my head down to take one of the small breasts into my mouth. As I suckled
it, Ashley sighed with contentment, putting her hand on the back of my head
and holding me close.
"This is fun, Tom," she said at last, "but I don't want any more games. I
just want you to show me that you love me."
I kissed her deeply again, lying atop her for long moments. We remained
locked in that embrace until she moved her hips slightly and I simply sank
into her, my cock sliding almost with direction from me into her sopping
pussy.
We again stayed motionless for a long time, my cock buried deep inside her
pussy, my tongue equally deep inside her mouth, our arms wrapped around each
other as we hugged each other tightly. Then I slowly pulled about halfway
out, and equally slowly reentered, setting up a languid rhythm, our hips
barely moving, our mouths remaining locked.
This was the sort of fuck that takes a long time, and had Reward not been
vigilant, no doubt Ashley's parents would have walked in to the sight of
their daughter with her legs spread wide and her boyfriend between them.
But that didn't happen, of course, and Ashley and I fucked quietly on,
increasing our pace only gradually. Finally, Ashley's legs wound themselves
around my back, she pulled her mouth away from mine, and she whispered in my
ear the single word, "Now."
I sped up, driving my cock deep into her, as her hips pushed up at me. I
entered her with long, smooth strokes, pulling out each time to come back
harder. Her heels dug into my butt as we sped up, urging me on, and soon her
arms pulled me to her, demanding the short, rapid strokes she needed for her
orgasm. I drove into her again and again, continuing through her
contractions, and then at last, as she fell limply to the bed, driving one
more time deep into her and resting there to shoot my seed into her womb.
We lay locked together for a long time afterward, enjoying the afterglow,
before I reluctantly took my withered cock out of her, and pulled away.
Even then, we lay side by side for a while before anyone spoke. While the
sex had been good, it hadn't totally driven the day's earlier events from
Ashley's mind.
"Tom," she asked pensively, "I know you have a lot of money and all that,
but can you really afford to give Sarah a million dollars?"
I laughed. "I could if I wanted to, but don't worry about Sarah any more.
She's not going to get her million and she's not going to ever bother you
again."
It's a measure of Ashley's faith in me that there was not a flicker of doubt
on her face as she asked, "What are you going to do?"
I kissed her pretty nose as I got up to leave. "Your parents will be home
soon," I said. "I'll tell you about it later." Then I was gone.
Enjoyable as this interlude with Ashley had been, when it ended, Ashley's
memory had returned to Sarah and it was no different for me. Despite my
brave words to Ashley, and despite my knowledge that I could deal with the
situation, exactly how to deal with it remained an open question.
I drove home rather than having myself transported, to give myself time to
think about the situation.
I've made plain any number of times in this narrative that I disapproved of
my daughter's greed and self-centeredness. But I must admit that I'd been
shocked that she'd stoop to blackmail. And on a rather grand scale.
I wondered as I drove what Sarah's plans were relative to her mother and me.
When I'd asked this question earlier, I'd received the airy reply "screw
'em!", but I presumed that she must have some type of plan in mind. She was
still a few months short of her eighteenth birthday, so she couldn't even
withdraw money from her small savings account without our signatures. And I
presumed a deposit of a million dollars to such an account might raise the
bank manager's eyebrows. Neither could she spend a significant portion of
the money without attracting attention. I supposed she must be planning to
sit on the money until her birthday, and then perhaps moving out on her own.
Anyway, it was all academic, since no such thing was going to happen. The
question was how I should deal with my darling little blackmailer.
As a father, the usual range of punishment options occurred to me, from a
good talking-to, through various degrees of grounding, to disemboweling. The
first two I rejected as insufficient, the latter as too messy. I could hear
Chris now, saying, "Don't think you're going to strew internal organs all
over the family room and leave it for me to clean up."
Knowing me as you do by now, forty-eight chapters into this story, it's not
going to surprise you to learn that, having rejected more traditional forms
of chastisement, my thoughts turned to sexual punishments. Part of the
reason, beyond my own obsessions, was because I asked Beth for advice.
This being a problem I couldn't very well discuss with Chris, but feeling
that I needed another parental perspective, I dropped in on Beth after
leaving Ashley's house. She was, at the moment, in her dungeon, having her
pussy eaten by one of her male slaves. The slave was simultaneously being
butt-fucked by a female slave with a strap-on, who was being fucked by a
male, and so on, through about thirty or so participants.
While I admired the smooth efficiency of the operation, I asked Beth if she
could suspend the action long enough to help me out. With a wave of her
hand, she made everybody freeze in mid-stroke, reluctantly getting up from
beneath her slave, who remained in position, his tongue poised over a pussy
that was no longer there.
Had I expected any sympathy from Beth, I would have been sorely
disappointed. Luckily I hadn't. When I had finished explaining the
situation, and she had finished laughing, she said, "See? That's what you
get for being so damned respectable and hanging out with sweetie-pies like
Ashley. If you're a real lowlife scumball, nobody can blackmail you. Can you
imagine somebody trying that shit on Hitler or Al Capone or somebody like
that?"
I agreed that both cases seemed unlikely, but added that she wasn't helping
any.
Unfortunately, Beth's ideas were no more serviceable than mine. She best
suggestion was that I turn Sarah over to her, and that she could lock her in
the dungeon for a week or so, and have her gang-raped twenty-four hours a
day by the slaves. Given that that's the best, you have some idea of the
nature of the others. Beth, I decided, was becoming seriously twisted.
She was helpful, however, in turning my thoughts to using sex as a
punishment. But my idea was to go in a different direction than Beth had in
mind. Given that Sarah was such a randy little piece, the best punishment I
could impose would be to take her sexual pleasures away.
Letting Beth return to getting her pussy eaten, I left for home. My last
sight as I climbed the stairs out of the dungeon was of Beth getting back in
position under her slave's tongue and the assembly-line fuck churning into
motion again.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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