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Subject: {ASSM} Story: Harlot Fever, parts 1-4 (mc,some ff) by Jafar
Date: Wed, 14 Nov 2001 09:10:02 -0500
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                                 Harlot Fever

                       Copyright (c) 2000-2001 by Jafar




Summary: mind control, Mf, some ff, incest
A rabies mutation has an affinity for different neural tissues. Can we
stop this disease before it spreads to every human on the planet? And do
we really want to?

See No Evil: Contains sexually explicit and politically incorrect
material. If you shouldn't be reading this, or if it might offend you,
simply stop now.

Legalese: All actors and actresses are over the age of consent. Proof of
age is on file. Any similarity of any character, event or place to any
actual person, event or place, is purely coincidental. This is all
fantasy, and the actors are all professionals  --  do not try any of
this at home.

Archiving: You are welcome to discreetly repost or archive this, just do
not change it, steal from it or claim credit for it.

Author's Rambling: This is one of those stories with --  egads! --
setup and development, so it takes a little while to get going. It's not
all sex, some of it is a little more violent than usual (hey, it's
rabies we're talking here), and let me know what you think of it.

Have fun!



                          Hell Steps Upon the Earth
                          ---- ----- ---- --- -----

The end, when it came, did not come with a bang. Neither did it come
with a whimper. Instead, it came (pardon the pun) with the loud, gasping
screams of a mind-blowing orgasm.

Right now, my mother is writhing, tied to the couch, begging me to fuck
her. My wife is pleading from the bedroom, where I have also tied her.
So far, I seem to be unaffected by the disease, though I watch everyone
around me, everyone dear to me, succumb. I am trying to record my
thoughts now in case I, too, fall to this plague.

It was viral. That much was pretty well agreed upon before the news
reports became ... surreal. It seemed to be a mutated strain of rabies,
with an affinity for different neural tissues, for the septal region,
whatever that is.

Whether it was a natural mutation or a deliberate, terrorist act was
never determined.

Infected individuals initially just ran a fever. They gradually became
extremely emotional and sexually agitated but were unable to orgasm,
increasing their emotional volatility. During this second stage of the
disease (the first stage being the short incubation period), coherent
thought was still possible for the victim with enough effort.

Then came the convulsions. The victims described these as enormous
orgasms, too big, too thrilling, to describe. "Orgasm" did not even
begin to cover it, they all agreed. They sought for the rest of their
lives to experience these again, which seemed to almost "burn out" the
part of the brain that accomplished rational thought (or at least
responsible thought), especially in women. Females were left afterwards
perpetually horny and incredibly submissive and exhibitionistic.

At first it was thought that men did not experience these personality
changes, leading "street speculation" to claim that it simply made
females just as "horny" as men always are, but without the puberty years
to learn to control that. This was sexist rubbish. Men kept the ability
to form rational plans -- conniving plans --  to seduce and take women,
especially uninfected, "clean" women. They kept the knowledge that this
was wrong, but they just stopped caring. The portion of the brain that
kept these lurid desires suppressed was "fried" just as much as women's
intelligence and assertiveness.

And with this insidious little trick --  borrowing built-in human
instincts -- this mutated freak of a pathogen became the most successful
virus in human history.

The first cases appeared in Brazil --  hell, the very first cases were
suspected of simply being a few people starting Carnival early. Once
sufficient victims fell to it, it became known as the Brazilian
Syndrome, or the Rain Forest's Revenge. Then cases started creeping up
all over the world, despite quarantines. It started being called Harlot
Fever or Whorepox.

To this city, to my family, to me myself, right up until just before the
end, it was still just something happening "out there," if you even
believed that it was happening at all, that it was not a huge scam. It
was something you read about in the papers, but did not ever expect to
see. I myself wondered how big a hoax could get before it fell apart
under its own weight.

Then horrible reality slipped in the front door when my brother returned
home.



                                 Jack's Back
                                 ------ ----

(Sunday afternoon)

"It's getting away!"

"Donny! Grab it!"

I looked up from where I was fixing the table leg for tonight and saw a
frozen turkey skittering its way across the table top, trying to escape
to freedom. I gathered my wits and responded with my only rational
recourse.

"Gah!" I yelled as I fell over backwards on my butt.

"Oooof!" I gasped as I blocked the bird's escape trajectory with my
abdomen -- at least that's what I tried to sell the rest of the family
later. They all obstinately insisted that the bird simply fell off the
table onto my belly while I was distracted by my aching ass.

"Oooooh, noooo!" Kitty wailed as the bird dropped off the end of the
table out of sight onto my tender belly.

After a silent moment, Mom spoke. "It's okay, Kitty. Maybe Donny caught
it."

"Hungh ... hungh ..." I gasped in response.

"See? I think he caught it," she soothed as she came around the table.

Kitty broke free from her panic-frozen stance and moved forward. "Did
he?"

Mom crossed her arms and callously looked down at me in my pain, the
frozen bird still weighing down on my abdomen, making it hard to breath.
"Oh, yes. I think we can say he caught it. Or it caught him. I'm not
sure which yet."

"Do ... you mind? ... I could ... use some ... help here."

"I'm not sure yet whether to help you or the bird."

Exasperated, I gave up on getting any warm sympathy out of my family and
lifted the cold bird from my stomach and set it up on the table, then
slowly stood, making sure nothing was broken.

"Oh, thank God," Kitty let her held breath out. "The bird's okay."

"Excuse me!" I said, having not received anywhere near the sympathy or
gratitude I expected.

Kitty got a devilish smile on her face. "I don't know WHAT we would have
done if something had happened to the bird! Thank goodness Donny's body
was there to act as a rug."

Slightly mollified, I moved towards a chair to sit down.

"But, Mom, are brothers like motorcycle helmets? One crash and you need
to throw them away and get a new one?" She looked at my stunned face and
smiled mischievously. "Because I want you and Dad to know that I'm okay
with that. If we need to, then we need to, and there's simply no use
crying over spilt milk. I know that Donny would have wanted it that
way."

Mom was washing the bird off in the sink. "We'll see how badly he's
damaged first, Kitty. Why, he might be good for two, maybe even three
more bird-catches. What do you think?"

"*I* think," I said, standing, "That I'm going back to the den to help
my wife. That way I can at least be abused by someone that loves me."

"Who ever said I love you?" came a voice from the kitchen door. I
turned, and there of course was Julie, my "loving" wife. "I only married
you to warm my toes in bed in the winter and to catch frozen fleeing
birds in the spring."

"Is there no END to the abuse?" I muttered.

Julie laughed. "I heard the crashes from the other room. Is everyone
okay?"

"Physically I'm alright," I pouted, "But with everyone making fun of my
act of valor, I'm not real sure how I'm doing psychologically right
about now."

"Oh, Donny! Our hero!," Kitty chirped up, holding her clasped hands up
to touch her cheek in a mock "damsel in distress but saved now" pose. "I
don't know WHAT we would do without you!"

"Mmmkay," I said, mollified, "That's better."

"Don't swell his head up too much, though," Julie warned, "Or I'll need
to stick a pin in it so that he can get through doorways."

"Now with all of us going through all this trouble for Jack --	the
turkey feast, the cake, the rescheduling of everything else we were
going to do this weekend --  just for his coming home this weekend, you
guys just tell me who is going to need their head pricked with a pin?
Hmmm?" I crossed my arms and leaned back. I had them there.

"I'mmm ... going to have to go with Donny," Kitty smiled.

"Yeah, me too," Mom said.

"But-- !"

Julie kissed me on the cheek. "Hush, honey. Stop while you're ahead."

"But I'm not -- "

"You're as ahead as you're going to get, sweetie."

"You'll finally get to meet Jack, Julie," Kitty smiled.

"Finally. Especially after he stood up our wedding."

"He really wanted to be there," Mom said, sprinkling spices on the
rescued bird. "If he hadn't been on the class field expedition."

"I know," Julie smiled. "It will just be good to meet the final member
of my husband's family."

"You two will get along great!" Kitty exclaimed.

The doorbell rang.

"He's here!" Kitty jumped up.

"No, he's not due for three hours," Mom said.

"He's early!" Kitty said as she ran towards the front door.

Mom continued seasoning the bird.

"Jack!" Kitty squealed from the other room.

"I guess he IS early," Mom said, setting her vials of spices down on the
table. "Come on, you two. Let's go welcome him."

"This will be fun," Julie gave me a quick kiss just before we left the
kitchen.

Well, Jack was home alright. And beside him stood the hottest redhead I
think I have ever seen. She was dressed in a black leather miniskirt,
black knee-high boots and a candy pink tube top.

Jack gave hugs all around while the redhead stood at the door. Finally,
Dad asked, "Who's your friend, son?"

You see, Dad could ask that. Me? I'd have gotten killed first by my
wife, then by my mother. So, smart me, I let Dad ask. I crossed my arms
and puffed my chest out, proud of my little feat of deduction and
patience.

"Mom, Dad, this is my English professor, Dr Susan Purkoney. I was taking
a course in dissertation formats, and she was teaching it, and I
mentioned that I was coming home this weekend, and -- "

"And it sounded like fun!" she squeaked enthusiastically, clapping her
hands together.

"So you ... uhm ... teach English and ... and dissertation formats?" Dad
asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah! All that stuff!" she bubbled. "Can I use your bathroom?
Pleeeeaase?"

"Uhm, yes. Kitty, could you show Dr Purkoney to the bathroom?"

"Sure, mom. C'mon, Professor Purkoney. It's this way."

"THAT is how they're building English professors these days, Jack?" Dad
asked after she'd left the room.

"Hmmmph," Mom expressed her opinion.

"Sure is, Dad," Jack grinned.

"Well, *I* sure haven't seen any professors like that!" Julie agreed
with Mom.

"You must be my brother's wife." He looked at me. "Do you think she's
wound up tight enough, Donny?"

"Jack!" Mom chastized him.

Jack looked at Mom a couple moments, then bowed his head. "Sorry, Mom.
Sorry, Julie. I guess I've picked up some bad habits in the last year.
Please forgive me."

"You certainly have. Julie is also a  member of our family now, and you
will treat her with the same respect as the rest of us. Understood,
young man?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What's gotten into you, son?" Dad asked.

Jack looked down at his feet.

"Uhm, I'm not sure if Professor Purkoney is okay," Kitty said as she
came back into the room. "Right after she shut the door, it sounded like
she banged into it, then she started making little screams. I knocked
and asked if she's okay, but she just kept making those little screaming
sounds."

Jack looked up and smirked. "She's okay. It was just a long drive here."
He walked back to the bathroom, then banged on the door. "Get dressed
and get out here, Suze. You can do that later."

"Sorry, it was a long drive," Jack smiled as he reentered the den, "And
she has a bladder the size of a thimble and gets the pee shivers
sometimes like you wouldn't believe --  especially when she's had to
hold it."

Kitty and mom were both staring at Jack, their mouths agape. "And you
know these details about your English professor because ...?" Julie
asked sarcastically.

Jack raised an eyebrow and gave a tight little smile. "She's a very open
person, Julie." He did not explicitly add, "You should loosen up and be
more like her."

Julie stared at him a couple seconds, then marched out to the kitchen. A
moment later, I did the same.

"Kitty," Dad said.

"I'm ... uh ... gone."

"Thank you, Kitty."

"Now, Jack -- " Mom started sternly.

"Excuse me!" Professor Purkoney staggered into the den. "I'm sorry, I
got a little carried away there." Her face was flushed, and her red hair
was a little dishevelled. "Jack, we need to go if we're going to catch
those people in time."

Jack turned to Mom. "If I can get back with you a little later about
what you were going to talk about, Mom, Susan and I DO need to hurry and
catch a couple people before the end of the day."

Mom stood rigidly as he kissed her on the cheek, then left with
Professor Purkoney.

Dad let several moments of silence pass after the front door shut behind
Jack and his date, then spoke. "He gets that from your side of the
family, dear."

"Kurt, this is not a laughing matter."

"I didn't say it was, dear. I was just taking an opportune jab at your
relatives."

Despite herself, Mom smiled lightly, then kissed Dad. "We still have a
turkey to finish in the kitchen."

"You have Donny to thank for that." He had apparently heard the ruckus
and also felt that I did not get the credit I deserved. Good ol' dad.



                               What's Up, Doc?
                               ------ --- ----

(Sunday, early evening)

Fear is like cancer. No, that one is too easy.

Fear is like the applause of an audience. It is a mysterious "voice" out
there in the darkness, passing judgement on our performances. When it is
the loudest, it demands encores, for truly fear brings about the very
thing that is feared. And if your performance falls short, the audience
will walk out on you, leaving you without fear, without glory, just
standing in the cold, empty, echoing theater of the grave.

The demon of fear was clapping for Doctor Roderick Janecek.

"Please, why are you doing this? What do you want?"

The redhead giggled. "Why, I want your little pecker, sweetie."

The man in the shadows --  Roderick assumed it was a man, although it
COULD have been the demon of fear trying to stave off boredom with
tonight's interesting scenario --  held forth a knife that glittered
much more than any knife had the right to. The redhead took it and
turned towards Rod.

"Please! What do you want?! We can work something out! Please!" He
tensed, fighting the bindings that held him tied to the chair.

"Give me a little kiss, baby." The redhead leaned in and kissed
Roderick, letting her wet tongue enter, then dance around in, his mouth.

The man in the shadows cleared his throat.

The redhead pulled Rod's chin up and parted his lips with her fingers,
then drool ran out of her mouth and into his. She smiled and tickled his
adam's apple. "Swallow for me, baby."

Nervously, Rod's adam's apple bobbed.

"Oh, goodie! We're going to have to get you a t-shirt that says 'I
Swallow'! Aren't we?"

"Please."

"Aren't we, Rod?" came the voice from the shadows, and the redhead
froze.

"Aren't --  aren't we what?" Rod asked, his voice quivering.

"You swallow, don't you, Rod?"

"Y-yes."

"She just came in your mouth and you swallowed every bit of it, didn't
you?"

"Whatev--  whatever you want."

"Do you want to swallow my jism, Rod?"

Several moments of silence dragged out.

"I said -- "

"Yes! Whatever you want!"

"Not from MY weener, you fag!"

"Please! We can work something out!"

The nurses had all gone home. Rod had been closing up his clinic when a
thick black cloth had been snapped around his head and he found himself
jerked to the chair, where he was now tied.

"Go for it, Bambi," the voice in the shadows said. "Enjoy yourself."

"Please!"

The redhead brought the knife up again and reached for Roderick's
crotch.

"Please!!" Rod shrilly warbled.

"Now hold real still," the redhead smiled.

For several seconds, continental drift outraced anything that Rod did.

He felt his belt being unbuckled and his pants being unzipped. Then the
redhead worked the knife from the bottom of the zipper down his pants
legs, cutting him free of his trousers. Next the sides of his underpants
were slit to leave him naked from the waist down. He felt her warm hand
pull on his nervous penis.

"Come on, baby. Get it up for me."

She tossed the knife back towards the shadows, then her head sank to his
lap, where she sucked on his soft cock.

Rod's breath came in trembly little pants.

The redhead looked up at Rod, her eyes meeting his as her tongue danced
around the head of his pecker. Finally she frowned. "Come on, baby! Get
it up for mama."

Rod made a whimpering sound.

"Come on! Get it up!"

"I can't!" he yelled. "Please! Let me go! I won't tell anyone about
this!"

"Of course you won't. God, this has to be pretty embarassing for you!"
She walked over to join the man in the shadows.

"I'm--	I'm sorry! Please! I'm just so nervous! Please! Understand!"

"It's okay, baby," she finally said soothingly. "It's alright. Don't
worry about it. It happens to a lot of men." She stepped back into the
light and stroked the cock of the strap-on dildo she had just put on.
"Don't worry about it. If you can't be the man tonight, I'll do it for
you."

"What?" Rod saw the strap-on, then his eyes grew wide. "No!!" he
screamed. "Please! No!!"

"Bend over for me, sweetie," the redhead taunted, stroking her
artificial member and slowly pumping her hips.

"No!" Rod struggled at his binds. "Forgodsakes! No!" He began to sob.

The woman turned to her male companion and took a container from him,
then walked towards Rod. "Baby, I need you to help me do you. I need you
to -- " She halted and wrinkled her nose twice. "Rod?! Did you make
piddle?"

"Please," Rod sobbed, "Don't ..."

"Rod! Did you make piddle?"

Rod paused his sobs to momentarilly look between his legs, where a
puddle of urine had collected on the floor. "I didn't-- " he looked back
at the woman, bewildered at how the urine had gotten there. "I-- "

She was smiling again. "It's okay, Rod. I think it's cute that you can't
keep from pissing yourself."

"But I -- "

"It's okay, baby. Everything's going to be okay. But I need you to lube
me up so that I don't hurt you."

"Noooo!"

"Rod. Rod, stop sobbing! Now we're going to untie your hands so that you
can lube up my cock."

"Nooo! No! Nooo!"

"Rod! Now you can either lube me up, or I can do you dry! And I don't
think you'll like that much. Or then again maybe you will, you teasing
little slut."

"Pleeease?" Rod asked, his lip quivering.

The voice of Death spoke at his ear. "I'm going to cut your hands free.
If you cause us any trouble, I will keep you alive for hours while I
peel the skin off your pecker and open up your sack, whittle out your
balls and feed them to you. Understood?"

"Please?" Rod squeaked. He felt the bindings on his hands loosen and
drop away, then brought his hands in front of him and rubbed his sore
wrists. He could actually fight back now, he thought, if he needed to.

"Rod."

He looked up and saw the container the redhead was holding out to him.

"Scoop some out."

Should he fight? His hands were free, but his legs were still tied to
the chair.

"Rod, you can do as she says," the voice of Death whispered from behind
him, "Or you can get fucked up the ass with the barrel of this gun."

"Pleeeeease?" Rod pleaded as he reached toward the container. It was
hard to see past his tears to scoop out a gob of vaseline. "Please?"

"That's my good baby," the redhead cooed. "Now lube me up." She stood
with her hips pressed forward.

Sobbing, Rod started to spread the vaseline up and down the strap-on
dildo. "Pleeease?"

"Mmmm, baby, that feels good! You know how I like it! Keep stroking!"

Rod blinked some of the tears out of his eyes. "But?"

"Just keep stroking me. Mmmmmm."

Rod kept pumping up and down the woman's artificial cock.

"Tell you what, baby. If you stroke me enough to make me cum, I'll be
too spent to do your ass."

"But?"

"Just keep stroking."

Rod redoubled his stroking. He had no idea how this was going to make
her cum, but if it saved his virgin asshole ...

The redhead had her eyes closed and was slowly pumping her hips. "Lick
it, sweetie. Lick the head."

Rod kept pumping her tool with his hands.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Lick the head, honey-bunch.
You're going to make me cum."

Rod had no idea where this was going now. Was she crazy enough to get
off on having a dildo stroked? Distastefully, he leaned forward and
licked the thing.

"Mmmmmm, put it in your mouth, sweetie." She watched as he put the head
in his mouth. "Yeeah, now look up at me. Let me see those gorgeous eyes
of yours, sweetie. Yeah, keep looking. Now run your tongue all around
the bottom. That's where it's most sensitive. Oh, darlin' you are one
hot cocksucker. Mmmmm. I'm getting close."

Rod let her lightly push the dildo into his mouth and back out for a
couple minutes. She ran her hands through his hair.

"Can you deep throat me, sugar-doll?"

"Hmmmph" Rod gasped around the cock as he felt her hands push his face
forward, impaling his throat on her dick. "Nnnggrrh!" he began to panic
and gag. She pulled back out all the way, and Rod continued to gag,
almost vomitting.

The redhead began stroking her cock and shaking her head. "No, we're not
going to make any more progress with this hole, are we, Rod?"

The man threw a rope over Rod's head, then pulled back, catching it at
Rod's throat, choking him. Rod felt the chair slide across the floor
towards the table. The man twisted the rope a couple times behind Rod's
neck, then used it to pull him partially across the table while the
redhead came around and tied his hands to the tablelegs.

"Pleeeease!!" Rod bellowed.

The couple came around the table and untied his legs, then spread them
wide and retied them to the table legs.

"Oh, what a cute little ass you have, sweet cheeks."

"Nooooo!"

"I've gotta get you out to the beach in a bra and bikini more often, so
that you can show that sweet little tush off."

"Noooooo!"

"You get me so hard, just thinking about poking myself into your little
hole," the redhead taunted.

Rod felt her sliding the strap-on up and down between his cheeks.
"Nooooo!"

"You are such a tease, sweet-cheeks! If you didn't want it, though, you
wouldn't make me feel this good stroking up and down between your cheeks
back here. Look, you're clenching. God, that feels good for me!"

"Please! Don't! I'll do anything! Anything!"

"Honey ass, you already have done everything. You've given me delicious
head. You've deep throated me. I just need to cum up your asshole, and
you'll be my bitch." Despite Rod's clenching cheeks, she placed the head
of her cock at his sphincter and slowly started pushing.

"Nooooooooooo!" he wailed. "Please, you're killing me! You're splitting
me apart!"

"Don't be such a pussy, babydoll. You know you want it. It'll make you
feel like the real woman ..." --  Rod screamed as the head of the dildo
popped past the sphincter, then she smiled as she began slowly sliding
in more easily -- ".. that you are."

Once she was buried in up to the hips, she unbelted herself from the
device and stepped back to admire her handiwork. The physician was tied,
spread to the table, the twelve inch cock protruding from the ass it was
buried in. She almost wished she did have a cock to stroke now.

"Well, that's it, Doc," the redhead giggled. "Thanks for a wonderful
evening."

"Wait!" Rod cried. "You can't--  you can't leave me like this."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll shit that cock out of your ass by morning, Doc,"
the voice of Death whispered. "If you really want to, that is."

"Pleeease?" he wailed as the two intruders walked out of the office.

Then the doctor stood there, alone in the dark, abandoned by Death and
His dignity, left with the nasty little snickerings of Shame as he
waited for his staff to find him like this tomorrow morning when work
began.

Tears forced their way out of Roderick Janecek's eyes and onto his
cheeks in great huge hot gasping sobs.



                                 Family Night
                                 ------ -----

(Sunday night)

"Well, that's it," Professor Purkoney said, bringing her napkin up to
dab her full red lips. "I can't eat another bite, or I'll just ... bust
... right out of this little blouse."

"The tramp was busting out before she sat down to dinner," my wife
grumbled quietly beside me.

Mom was frowning disapprovingly from her side of the table as well.

As far as the men went, however, even Dad looked like he wished she'd
try to squeeze in just one more little nibble.

"We're ... uhm ... glad you could make it back with our Jack," Dad said.
"Do you have family in town?"

"Oh, no," she smiled and waved her hand. "You all just sounded like such
a nice family that I HAD to come. And he wasn't lying, either. You guys
are really nice."

"Gee, sounds like a Hallmark card," Julie muttered further.

"Well," Professor Purkoney said, standing up from the table, but bending
at the waist as she did so to give me a good view down her blouse (of
course, I could not take advantage of the view, lest my wife catch my
glance and relieve me of the pesky organ that would get blamed for doing
the thinking at that moment). "Kitty, can you show me where some of the
bathroom items are upstairs?"

"Sure," Kitty said, wiping her lips on her napkin. "May I be excused,
Mom?"

"Yes, of course, dear."

"Thank you."

Kitty walked Professor Purkoney upstairs to the bedroom that she would
be using. Jack had been supposed to sleep in that bedroom, but since he
came home with the female professor, Mom had quickly switched plans
around, and now Jack was to sleep on the unfolded sofa in the living
room.

"Let me just change, and I'll get you to show me where the soap and
towels are, Kitty."

"Sure, Professor," Kitty smiled.

Susan Purkoney unbuttoned her blouse, and Kitty cast her eyes
respectfully downward. Susan unsnapped her bra and threw it to the bed.

"You know, you have a very nice figure, Kitty."

"Thank you, uhm ..." Kitty looked up and saw that the Professor was
bare-breasted, then quickly cast her eyes back down again. "Thank you,
Professor."

"A pretty young girl like you just has to be running around with your
choice of handsome young men."

"I ... uhm ... don't have a boyfriend, Professor."

"You don't?! But, Kitty, you are just cute as a button!" She held out
the young girl's right arm, then set her hand on her abdomen. "And a
tummy as flat and trim as anything a girl could desire."

Kitty kept her eyes downward and blushed. "Thank ... uhm ... you,
Professor."

The professor's hand slowly moved up her abdomen. When Kitty realized
where it was headed, she moved her left hand to hold it in place and
looked up at the other woman.

"Move your hand, Kitty."

"I-- "

"Move your hand away, Kitty."

Slowly, Kitty removed her hand from the Professor's.

Slowly, the older woman's hand moved up and over Kitty's breast, then
around in a gentle circle.

"Yes, Kitty, these boobs are nothing to be ashamed of. They may be a
little puny right now, but they will puff right out soon enough. I'll
bet ... your nipples are already two inches in diameter.

Kitty, bright red and trembling slightly, whispered, "I ... I need to
get back downstairs ... right now, Professor."

"Sure, Kitty ... right after you show me where the towels are."

"Y- yes, ma'am." Kitty led the topless woman down the hall to the
closet. "They--  they're in here, Professor. You can use any of them.
Mom keeps them washed. Now I-- "

"I know. You need to go, Kitty. But first, thanks." The older woman
leaned in and embraced her, then kissed her on the lips. Kitty held very
still while the Professor's tongue entered her mouth, moved around some,
then departed.

Quickly, nervously, just wanting to get out of there, Kitty swallowed
the spittle the tongue had deposited in her mouth.

"You're a good girl, Kitty."

Keeping her eyes firmly downcast, Kitty walked past the woman. "Thank
you," she whispered, then headed downstairs.

                                  ----------

Kitty silently took her seat at the family table again.

"Are you all right, Kitty?" Mom asked.

"Yes. Yes, ma'am," Kitty said, keeping her eyes downcast.

"Well," her mother said, studying her, "Have some dessert. You helped
make it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Kitty, you're really sprouting," Jack commented.

"Thank you, Jack." Her gaze still did not come up off the table.

"You're gonna make some lucky guy and awfully sexy wife some day."

"Jack," Mom cautioned him. "That's not-- "

"I don't like her!" Kitty stood and met Jack's gaze, tears starting to
form in her eyes. "I don't like her at all, Jack! And I don't like the
way you're acting, either! Mom, may I be excused?"

"Yes," Mom told her, "Yes, you're excused, honey. Do you want to-- "

Kitty hurried off to her bedroom and shut the door.

"Jack, what has her so upset?!" Mom challenged my brother.

Jack spread his hands and smiled. "I have no idea. What makes you think
that *I* would know? Maybe it's that time of the month."

"Christ!" Julie threw her napkin on the table. Is that the best your
little brain can do?! 'Maybe it's that time of the month?' Maybe you're
being so sexist because you can't get it up!"

"Oh, I can get it up, honey! I can get it up so far that you'll be
kneeling and beg-- "

"Enough!" Dad bellowed, standing and moving his hands in a cutting
gesture. "Enough of this!" Silence landed around the table, afraid to
move lest it be attacked by the beast that had just bellowed.

"Am I interrupting?" came a musical voice from behind Dad.

All our heads turned to look, and Professor Purkoney stood there in her
transparent pink nightie top, her red hair hanging loose around her
shoulders. I took note that her nipples had to be two inches in diameter
and was trying my best to determine whether she was wearing panties
without my wife noticing.

She smiled sweetly. "I just wanted to tell Jack that it was time to come
to bed, baby." She looked my brother directly in the eyes and held her
pinkie to her teeth to chew on the nail. "I'm getting all hot and
bothered, and I need to be serviced." She twisted a ringlet of hair
around her finger as she stood there.

"This is enough!" My wife said, standing. "Jack, I can't speak for the
rest of this family, but I have been insulted more than enough. You take
your bare-boobed bimbo someplace away from the dinner table, and if you
ever dare to bring her back dressed like this, you WILL regret it!"

Jack leaned back and chuckled softly. "Do I rub you the wrong way,
princess?" he asked.

Julie clenched her fists. "Jack, you-- !"

"Excuse me," Professor Purkoney's musical voice drifted between the two
preparing to face off. "But you are wrong."

Julie looked at her the way that you would look at an eight year old
child that had just darted out between two gunfighters preparing to
draw.

"You placed a stress emphasis on the word 'will' as though you were
indicating that you would see to it that he would regret it."

"Yes," Julie said slowly, not sure whether she was speaking to a total
idiot or just someone who totally misunderstood the situation they had
just stumbled into. "And he WILL if he ever lets you come in here
dressed like this again."

"No, he SHALL. For second person subjects, the verb 'will' expresses
predictions; the verb 'shall' expresses promises. So if you are going to
personally see to it that he regrets it, you should say, 'He SHALL
regret it.' To emphasize the word 'will', as you did in 'He WILL regret
it,' you are simply stressing that you are an accurate prognosticator."

Julie shook her head twice, her mouth opening and closing without making
any sounds.

Professor Purkoney smiled brightly. "I AM an English professor, after
all."

My wife still stood in stunned silence.

Susan Purkoney clasped her hands behind her back and rotated her torso
as she spoke. "Anyway, you hurry up, Jack. I'll be getting myself warmed
up for you. But for godssakes, don't be too long! Toodles, everyone."
She waved, then wandered back up the stairs, her hips swaying from side
to side.

She was wearing panties, I noticed now that I could view her from
behind, but they were as transparent as her teddy.

Slowly, heads at the table turned back towards each other.

"You do not act this arrogant to me ever again, Jack!" My wife stood
away from the table and began walking towards our bedroom. "Time of the
month! What a jackass!" she muttered.

"I should ... uhm ..."

"Go, Donald," Dad told me.

I followed my wife to the bedroom and told her many times that she was
absolutely right in being utterly repulsed by my shitheel of a brother
and his tramp of a professor.

Meanwhile, in the dining room, Jack and Mom kept raising their voices to
each other, with Dad sometimes bellowing too, after which there would be
a brief period of quiet before everything escalated all over again.

After I got my wife settled down, I walked quietly up the hall to
Kitty's room and knocked lightly on the door. "May I come in, Kitten?"

There was no answer, so I tried the door handle. It turned, and I eased
the door open. "Are you all right, Kitty?"

"Yeah," she said in a flat voice from her bed in the dark. Her voice
gave away that she had been crying.

I stepped inside and pulled the door mostly closed behind me, so there
was just a crack of light shining through. "Are you sure? You seemed to
be pretty upset at dinner."

"I just--  Jack's just not acting like himself. And I DON'T like that
woman! She shouldn't be here! She has no right!"

"Did she do something to you, Kitty? Did she say something?"

"I just ... REALLY ... don't like her."

"Mmkay. That sometimes happens. Any reason why?"

"She's just ... TRASH! What does Jack see in her?! She's nothing more
than a loose woman! And Jack didn't used to go for girls like that.
What's gotten into him? Does he just not see that she's--  oh, I don't
even know the words for her!" A sob bulled its way out of her throat.
"He just can't BRING people like that into our house!" she choked out.

"It's okay, kitten," I said, stepping forward and setting my hand on her
shoulder. "I'm pretty surprised by the way that he's acting too. And
you're right about Professor Purkoney. She's just on the prowl to get as
many men as she can to drool over her. Nothing more."

"So you don't like her, either, Donny?"

"She's a tramp and nothing more. What is there to like?"

"You promise that you'll never bring anyone like that home?"

"Kitty, I already have Julie. She's certainly not like that. And I
really am not interested in anyone else."

"Thank you, Donny. At least there's one person I can count on to behave
normally."

"You shouldn't get so upset, Kitty. It sounds like Mom is informing Jack
of exactly what types of people he can bring home and what types he will
not. Or is that 'shall not'?"

"Hungh?"

"Sorry. Stupid joke. I think Mom and Dad are taking care of the issue
about Professor Purkoney."

"I hope so! She'd BETTER never come around again!"

"Otherwise we'll whack her earlobes until she runs out screaming!"

Kitty smiled slightly in spite of herself. "Yeah, and we'll pull her
eyelids out and let them snap back into her eyeballs."

"Yeah, and we'll ... I can't think of anything else nasty to do to her."

"You can ask me. I'll help you come up with some things."

"So you're doing better now, Kitten?"

"Yeah, doing better."

"Good. I probably should get back to Julie. I think she had as much of a
problem with Professor Purkoney as you did and even more of a problem
with Jack."

"It's not really Jack's fault. He's just confused."

"I know. But that's what I'm trying to convince Julie of."

"Well, go get her straightened out, then. What would this family do
without you and me, Donny? We're the glue that helps the others get
along."

"You're glue, Kitten. I think I'm just a wad of bubble gum."

"Donny ..." she smiled. "You're not."

"No? After the way you guys chewed me up and spit me out when I saved
that turkey?"

"Donny! You know we were just teasing you."

"Of course I know," I smiled. "But I have to tease you back, don't I?" I
kissed her on top of the head. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Donny."

"Good night, Kitten."




.

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