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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

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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