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From: "Laura Smith" <lauras_1979@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} New Author: LauraS "My Story" (F/MMM...??? Oral)
Date: Mon, 21 Feb 2000 09:10:03 -0500
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My Story
by LauraS
Laura handed her ticket to the man in the tuxedo standing beside the small
wooden podium. Parting the thick velvet curtains, he motioned for her to
enter. When the curtains swished together behind her, Laura found herself
alone in a small vestibule. The thick carpet was the same color red as the
curtains covering all four walls. She turned completely around once looking
for the opening she had come in through but the heavy pleated curtains
looked unbroken all the way round the room. She found it odd to have lost
her bearing so quickly. The opening must be right here. She began feel
about between the deep velvet pleats but there was no seam anywhere.
"Hmm! That's odd," she said aloud. Her voice sounded oddly muffled by the
thick curtains and heavy carpeting.
And then the room began to move. It wasn't so much that she felt it moving,
but the hum beneath her feet made her believe it was moving.
"Ah! An elevator!" she said softly aloud again. "But am I going up, or am
I going down?"
She raised herself up on her tiptoes, as if that might make her more able to
identify to the sensation of motion. But then it stopped. The sensation
had been so subtle; there was no way to tell which way she had traveled. It
could have been sideways or even diagonally for all she knew.
What next? she wondered, deciding not to speak out loud any more. Now that
she had arrived at wherever she was going, there might be a person nearby to
greet her.
Directly behind her, the curtains silently swished open. It happened so
quickly, so quietly, that Laura felt the rush of air against her neck
instead of actually hearing them move. When she turned, they were
completely motionless. There was no residual swaying; it was as if they had
been open all the time.
Looking out of the elevator, or the moving vestibule - Laura wasn't sure how
to think of the room she was in any more - she could see a long narrow room,
or perhaps a wide short hallway that was dimly lit. Not knowing what else
to do, Laura stepped through the curtains into the room. Her shoes clicked
audibly on the hard floor, startling her at first and then making her laugh
at her own skittishness. She felt the curtains behind her swish shut. Just
as she expected, when she turned around there was nothing behind her but a
blank a wall.
Laura walked the length of the long narrow room and turned around to look
back where she had come from. The walls and floor of this room were made of
the same shiny hard material. It looked like metal or plastic; she couldn't
be sure. And it was getting harder to make anything out besides. Instead
of appearing brighter as her eyes became accustomed to the low light, the
room seemed to be growing darker.
"Yes, it's not as bright as when I came in, that's for certain," she said
aloud. If no one was going to greet her she might as well talk to herself,
she decided.
"Hello!" she called out, listening to the metallic echo of her voice
bouncing off the walls. "Hello I say!"
The lights went out completely.
Uh, oh, she thought and stood in the darkness for quite a while wondering
what to do.
"Sorry," she said meekly, but was answered only with more silence. The
lights did not come back on.
A man's voice, a deep bass boomed at her: "Give...or receive?" it said.
Laura was so startled she jumped nearly a foot in the air. The voice had
come from all around her, as if emanating from loudspeakers.
"Give...or receive?" the voice boomed again, making her jump once more.
"Hello?" she said in a voice that sounded small and mousy after the booming
basso.
"Speak it!" the voice commanded.
Laura was completely befuddled. Speak what? Give or receive what?
"Speak it!" the voice said again exactly as before.
"Speak what?" she managed to call out in a tremulous voice.
There was a long silence and then: "Give...or receive?"
"Give or receive what?" She was more defiant now. Her voice sounded
stronger in her own ears.
The silence was even longer this time before the voce repeated itself.
"Give...or receive?" It seemed even louder and Laura wondered if she had
made it angry.
Well too bad! she thought. This thing is a bloody broken record. It's
simply awful!
She decided to wait it out, but the voice continued repeating the enigmatic
requests more and more frequently. It also seemed that the voice was
growing louder, although it might have only been her ears becoming tired.
Eventually Laura began to grow desperate.
What could this mean? Give or receive.
"T'is better to give than receive," she repeated the old saying she had
learned somewhere. But is that really true? What if it's money, or jewels?
Then it definitely better to receive, I don't care what they say.
The voice seemed to have sensed she was seriously thinking it over. The
booming demands stopped while she wrestled with the question.
But what if it is something bad, something awful? Well, then it is
certainly better to give, isn't it?
Perhaps not. Could she go through with it, if it meant doing something
horrid to someone else? But at least she would survive. The other way was
more risky she decided.
"Give!" she boomed, mimicking the voice as best she could.
"Thank you," it boomed back.
The light snapped back on and she found herself in the middle of the same
long narrow room. The walls gleamed in the bright light. It reminded her
of the kitchens in the fancy hotels her family sometimes stayed at - all
that shiny stainless steel.
"Please remove your clothing!" the voice boomed.
Laura was too shocked to react.
"Your clothing!" it repeated.
"Uh...excuse me. Didn't I say 'give'?" she asked.
"Please remove your clothing!" the infuriating voice boomed again.
"Absolutely not!" she shouted back.
And then, to her complete horror, she was standing there completely naked.
Her clothing had simply vanished off of her body. She spun around looking
to see where her things had gone, but the room was as empty as before.
Crouching down, she tried to hide herself from whoever might be watching.
As if reading her mind, the voice said: "No one is watching."
"Oh, really," Laura said, trying to curl into a tight little ball. "What
about you?"
"No one is watching." the voice repeated impassively.
Laura said nothing, looking around the room for something, anything to crawl
under or hide behind.
"Would you prefer darkness?" the voice asked. It still boomed, but Laura
thought it sounded concerned somehow, although she knew it was ridiculous to
assume anything of the sort.
"I'd prefer my clothes back, thank you!" she yelled back in a strangled
voice.
The voice said nothing, but the lights went almost completely out.
At one end of the room she saw something move. Something was slowly rising
up out of the floor and a bright spotlight went on from above to illuminate
it. Still crouching, she turned towards it. That looks like a pedestal
sink, she said to herself, the old-fashioned kind.
Cautiously rising to her feet, Laura moved in the direction of the
brightly-lit object. Walking naked in the strange darkened room was
thrilling in an unexpected way. Laura took her time and enjoyed the
sensation of cool air touching her on the parts of her body that were
normally covered up.
"It IS a sink," she whispered aloud when she reached the pool of light cast
by the overhead spotlight. "How odd."
"Please wash your hands," the voice boomed.
The request sounded so ridiculous, coming from that booming voice, it made
Laura laugh out loud.
"Your hands," the voice repeated.
"What for?" she asked, impetuously.
There was a long silence.
"Please wash your..."
"All right! All right!" she shouted. "You aren't going to tell me why, are
you? But I'll wash them anyway."
Laura ran the water and washed her hands with the little blue bar in the
soap-dish and dried them with the small towel hanging below the sink. Then
she waited.
After a few moments, a small pedestal rose up beside the sink. On it was a
bottle of mouthwash and a glass.
Laura shrieked with laughter.
The voice boomed: "Please rinse out...
"...rinse out your mouth," she said along with the voice. "My breath is NOT
bad. I know it isn't! I brush three times a day! But," she added
hurriedly, "I know there's no arguing with you. If I don't do as you say
you will simply repeat yourself until I give in. Very well then..."
She swilled the mouthwash right out of the bottle and spat it into the sink.
"Thank you," the voice boomed. "One moment please."
The room went completely dark. Laura could hear a whirring sound; probably
the sink and the pedestal sinking back into the floor, she thought. When
the light came back, up she could see a door in the wall ahead of her,
directly behind where the sink had been.
She sighed. Nothing surprised her anymore.
Laura opened the door and stepped into a pitch-dark room. Even without
seeing the walls, she could tell this room was much narrower than the last.
She could FEEL the walls closing in on her. She stretched out a hand.
"It would be best if you stayed absolutely still until there is light enough
for you to see," a voice said. Laura recognized the booming voice. This
was the same person, only now he was speaking in a normal tone. Still, the
words seemed to come from all around her, as if from a loudspeaker.
Sure enough, the light was growing brighter, only very slowly. She could
just barely make out the walls. They were not smooth, as in the last room.
There was row upon row of something, like books on a bookshelf or...
Laura experienced a profound feeling of deja vu. She had been in this room
before, or one just like it. If only she could remember.
She snapped her fingers. Yes! That was it.
She went with her father to the bank once, down to the vault where the
safe-deposit boxes were kept. This room was exactly the same dimensions!
And the arrangement of something, row upon row, from floor to ceiling was
just like that as well. Laura remembered her father's box was near the
ceiling. The man at the bank had to roll over a ladder that slid along a
rail and climb up to reach inside while she held her father's hand and they
waited below.
The light grew brighter and Laura thought she could make out shapes on the
wall. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see what she
imagined she had seen. When she opened them again the room was bright
enough so that there was no mistaking it. Along the walls on either side
were mounted row upon row a fake penises. They were about a foot apart,
from floor to ceiling. There had to be hundreds of them!
Laura shrieked with laughter. What kind of joke was this? Her laughter
redoubled when she saw that three quarters of the way up the way there was a
rail, and at the far end of the room, a metal ladder hooked to it so that
someone might climb up all the way to the ceiling if they wished.
Laura continued laughing for quite some time. This had to be the oddest
thing she, or any other girl for that matter, had ever experienced. What on
earth was the meaning of this?
She twirled around, intending to leave the room right away; but naturally,
the door behind her had vanished without a trace. She turned around again
and with a giggle faced the rows and columns of penises protruding from the
wall.
What was the proper plural for penis, she wondered? Was it, peni? With two
n's, or one? Or was it penises. She couldn't stop giggling. It wouldn't
do to ask Mr Cuthbert, the Latin instructor, would it? She could just see
him coughing and clearing his throat, his eyes bulging and the sweat
appearing on his brow.
But who would go to all the trouble to mount these on a wall in this way?
Up until that moment, Laura had only seen two different penises in her whole
life. One was her baby brother's when she used to give him baths. She
thought her mother had called it a 'peanut' because that's just what it
looked like, a little peanut, and it made her laugh. The other one was the
wrinkly old thing her grandfather, the drunken old war veteran sometimes
waved at her if he managed to lure her into his room when her parents were
away. That made her feel queasy in the stomach.
Laura wasn't sure how she felt looking at these. Mildly curious? Yes,
there was that, but it was something else as well. She walked the length of
the narrow room, looking left and right. They came in all shapes and sizes,
some hanging loose, sack-like, others pointing straight out like the prow of
a ship. It reminded her of her uncle Arthur's house, the trophy room where
he had all the stuffed animal heads mounted from floor to ceiling.
They seemed incredibly life-like, she thought; the skin tone and texture,
the curly hairs around them all looked just right. But they had to be
fakes. She tried to imagine the way the bodies would have to be arranged on
the other side of the wall. Impossible.
Perhaps I should touch one, she thought to herself. I might find out what
they are made of. And then it struck her that she was naked herself. It
felt odd to be unclothed in front of all those...things. Yes, they were
like Cyclopeses staring at her, weren't they?
She folded her arms across her breasts and regarded the nearest two penises
at eye level. One was soft, hanging down like the nose of an old man, the
other, rigid with a swollen red tip that looked like a fireman's hat. Laura
reached out a hand and gingerly touched the rigid one. Immediately she
sprang back in surprise.
It was warm to the touch! What a shock; it felt like real flesh!
Now what was that brushing against her back and shoulders? She gave another
start, realizing she had backed up against the opposite wall. How awful!
One of them had gotten tangled in her hair. She pulled herself away
shivering.
Well, that was quite a start, she thought, feeling silly once she had calmed
down a bit. So, it was warm, what of it? She grasped the same penis again,
more firmly this time. But it even has a pulse! Amazing! But it can't
be...alive, can it?
Nonsense! That could be your own pulse you are feeling, she reasoned. And
then it occurred to her that one way to find out for sure would be to see if
she could get the other one stand out. Laura knew all about what happened
to a boy's body from health class, and she knew other things as well, things
she overheard the girls giggling about after school. If she understood
correctly, Laura knew any girl could make a boy's penis grow hard,
especially if she was naked.
She lifted the sagging penis gingerly with her fingers, unsure of what to do
next. But already something was happening! She could feel it swelling in
her hand. It wasn't exactly standing up, but it was changing, growing
thicker. Fascinating!
Laura let go and watched it intently. At first, it continued to grow and
even stand up on its own. She thought it reminded her of pumping up the air
mattresses at the summer cottage. They gradually filled out until they were
bulging at the seams. The penis began to deflate again, a delayed reaction
to her having let go of it no doubt.
Laura touched it again, briefly reanimating it only to watch it droop again
when she let go again. Fascinating! Why were some of them standing out and
others sagging, she wondered? And were they real?
How could they be?
She knew of another test to perform that might help her figure out if they
were real or not. Laura never expected to find such immediate use for the
things she had learned in health class. But she was getting a little tired
of the two specimens she had been dealing with so far. Why stick to those
two when there was so much variety around? Laura turned and examined the
opposite wall.
There really were all shapes and sizes. Some long and thin, with pointy
little caps on their heads, others like big fat sausages. There seemed to
be no rhyme or reason as to their arrangement or any discernable pattern as
to which ones were standing straight out and which were hanging down.
She walked along the wall examining all of those at eye level. All of a
sudden, Laura realized she was enjoying herself, immensely. I'm packing a
whole life's worth of experience into a few minutes, she thought with some
satisfaction. How many of these does your average women see in a lifetime
anyhow?
She stopped and grasped the nearest penis, a swarthy thing. Fully erect, it
was short and stout with a fat head on top that reminded her of a mushroom
cap. Grasping it firmly, she could feel the pulse pounding in it. The
heavy racing thud was definitely not her own.
Laura knew vaguely that she had to do something other than grasp the thing,
but beyond that she was baffled. Play with it somehow, I suppose, she
thought. But how? She decided to run her fingers along its length. First
the top, where beneath the smooth skin it felt hard indeed, as if there was
bone inside. And then below, where it was soft.
Ah! Touching it here made it twitch! Where was that again? Here? No.
Here? Yes!
There was a spot on the underside which, when touched, sent the organ into a
miniature spasm. That had to be a good sign. She felt along its length
again more carefully, looking for a similar reaction. The very end of it,
the tip-top, when touched very lightly, just so, made it strain upward, like
the nose of her puppy snuffling for a morsel beneath the tablecloth. She
put the penis through it's paces for several more minutes, enjoying the
notion that she had figured out some of the mysteries of it on her own.
But after a while, she grew concerned. The desired result had not occurred.
She must not be doing all she could to bring it about. Laura continued to
play with it idly while she thought about what she might do differently.
Perhaps I'm tickling it, she thought. That can be pleasing and unbearable
all at once. She imagined having her ribs tickled, the way her father did
it when she was a very small girl. And then what would he do? Hug her.
After the agonizing sweetness of his feathery touch, a firm grasp felt so
pleasurable, so reliving.
Laura grasped the penis firmly about the base. Immediately, she was
shockingly rewarded with a sticky, messy eruption that caught her square on
the bridge of her nose. And right after there was another, and another!
"Ugh! How awful!" she exclaimed as she jumped back, an instant too late to
avoid being pelted by one last salvo. Her entire face, neck and chest were
covered in sticky goo that smelled and felt like warm, salty oatmeal. Laura
didn't know what to think. She had been successful she supposed, but she
hadn't expected the eruption to arrive so unexpectedly or for it to have
been so prodigious.
She stood in the center of the room with her hands out. The stuff was
running down her body. She didn't want to touch herself. In a moment, she
had to laugh out loud as two towels descended from the ceiling on hooks
until they were dangling directly in front of her. One was damp, the other
dry.
Laura cleaned and dried herself and then replaced the towels on the hooks
and waited for them to be whisked away.
Now what? she thought, a little disconcerted by the fact she hadn't been
able to foresee the sticky bath she had received and get out of the way in
time. Maybe if she had been more perceptive she would have seen it coming.
Laura decided to try it again and be more careful this time. She crossed
the room and began looking high and low for just the right penis to try it
on. She decided it would be a greater challenge to take one of the soft
ones and bring it all the way along. Near the floor, she found just what
she was looking for.
It was drawn up, like a snail in its shell. The balls were proportionately
larger than on some of the other specimens. They looked like over-ripe
peaches hanging from a tree only they felt much softer when she touched
them.
When she stroked it, the little snail began to come out of its shell, and
with a little coaxing and tugging, she soon had it standing up to a
respectable size. Laura crouched off to one side as she rhythmically ran her
fingers over it so as to be out of the way of the sticky eruption.
It wasn't long before she achieved success. She penis twitched under her
fingers and sent out a thick spurt, like a frog lashing out its tongue at a
fly.
I'm getting good at this, Laura thought proudly. But is that all? The
other gave much more.
She grasped it again and was surprised by a second spurt, nearly as large as
the first, quickly followed by a few more of diminishing quantity.
So, it was possible to get more out of it, she realized and maintained her
grip, feeling the last few tremors and watching as the last few drops oozed
out. There was a feeling of satisfaction, knowing she had learned a new
skill and was mastering it.
At school, there was an awful boy named Jimmy. Laura didn't want to think
of him right now, but she couldn't help it for some reason. Between classes
he had pushed her into an out of the way corner and pressed himself up
against her, panting and saying the most awful things into her ear.
Laura held her hands to her ears, trying not to remember, but his words were
already inside of her head. What was it he wanted her to do? With her
mouth? It was disgusting!
Some of the girls whispered amongst themselves about Jimmy. He had tried
the same thing on others and it was rumored that one of the girls, Veronica,
had actually gone ahead and done what he asked.
Ew! The girls shrieked and laughed.
At the time, Laura scarcely knew what Jimmy or the girls had been talking
about. Such a thing seemed far-fetched and vile. But now she put a hand to
her mouth. Her lips were tingling. What would that be like, she wondered?
Laura paced the room, not really looking at anything in particular. She was
thinking about Jimmy, about the whispering girls at school. What would it
feel like?
Out of the corner of her eye, something caught her attention. About waist
high - one of the penises was quite a bit different than the others. Laura
stopped pacing to look at it more closely. It was pale, and even though
limp, it was much larger than any of the others. Something about the end of
it was different too, as if there was some extra skin covering up the tip.
Laura knelt down and brought her face close. It was as big around as her
wrist! Her hand came up involuntarily to grasp it, but she stopped herself.
Something about this one stirred feelings within her, deep dark secret
feelings. She kept thinking about that awful boy Jimmy for some reason and
the things he had asked her to do. Was she bad for feeling curious about
what it would be like to do them?
Laura wanted very much to touch the thick penis, to take it up in her hands
and stroke it, to see if she could make something this monstrously large
even larger. She wanted to draw out what was inside and taste it. But at
the same time, she was afraid to do all that. Up until now it had been fun,
kind of silly almost, but this was serious. Her heart raced.
She took a deep breath and gently lifted the penis with her fingertips.
Partially encircling it with her thumb and middle finger, Laura pulled back
the extra fold of skin and exposed the head. Why was this one different,
she wondered?
Laura waited for it to grow larger, but to her disappointment, nothing
happened. Perhaps this one was so large it couldn't grow any larger, she
reasoned.
She thought about Jimmy again. Why did he keep coming to mind? Laura had
never seen him naked, but she would have bet anything he didn't have an
organ like what she held in her hand. Was it what he had said, the awful
thing he had asked her to do? How she had blushed when the other girls
explained what he had meant!
Laura knew what she had to do to make the limp penis in her hand stand up.
Even though she felt nervous about it, she brought her mouth quite close to
the head of it. And then with her eyes closed, she opened her lips and
placed them lightly on the tip of the soft penis.
The flesh had a faint salty taste and it felt surprisingly warm in her
mouth. She held it that way for a moment while she got used to the novel
sensation. This wasn't horrible at all, she thought. It was pleasant
enough in its own way. To her delight, she felt the penis begin to stir,
growing thicker, uncoiling deeper into her mouth.
Laura fought back the urge to withdraw. It felt so alive! Almost as if it
had a will of its own, the organ swelled and pushed itself deeper inside of
her. She thought about Jimmy again, what he had wanted, and she closed her
lips more tightly and began to suck like a baby on its nipple. The penis
surged and swelled even more in response; Laura could feel its pulse
pounding against the roof of her mouth. She leaned forward and took even
more of it in. Still, she contained only about a third of it. Bringing up
her hands, she grasped the remainder of it and held on tight.
Laura moved her tongue about as best she could, feeling the ridges and
contours of the organ in her mouth. When she found a sensitive spot, a
place where her tongue provoked a twitch or an increased swelling, Laura
concentrated on that area. Soon, she had it twitching and jerking in her
mouth so that she almost could not contain it. She felt like one of those
old west cowboys riding a bucking bronco.
The eruption was violent and prodigious. The penis strained and twitched as
it shot its thick salty emission deep into the back of her throat. Laura
gagged trying to take it all in, but there was too much; it ran down her
chin and dripped onto her breasts. The taste of it was salty, sweet and
sour, like nothing she had imagined.
Laura fell backwards and landed on her behind. The huge penis was
deflating, drooling out the last of its issue. Laura thought of that old
filmstrip they always showed in school: the great zeppelin crashing,
bursting into flames, sagging as it fell to earth.
She tried to swallow, but her throat felt clogged. She stared at the tiny
opening on at the tip of the penis, the one winking eye, and saw one last
drop squeezed out of it.
In the back of her awareness a bell was ringing. No, not a bell; a buzzer.
It persisted, annoyingly. Laura expected to hear the booming voice again,
telling her to get up but the voice never came. Gradually, the buzzer began
to sound more and more familiar: it was her alarm clock.
She woke with a start, realizing she was tightly grasping one of the thick
wooden bedposts. She had drooled on herself as well; a stream of it was
still warm on her chin. Reluctantly letting go of the bedpost which had
grown warm under the pressure of her clasping fingers, she reached over and
pressed the button to stop the alarm. Swinging her feet over the edge of
the bed, she rubbed her eyes at the bright light of the new day. If she
didn't hurry, she would be late for school.
As she padded off to the bathroom, Laura found herself thinking about Jimmy,
how she hoped she would run into him at school that day.
And she thought: I'll show him!
The End
LauraS
February 20, 2000
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