index


Message-ID: <47398asstr$1081721405@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Imagineer <imagin8r47@yahoo.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Cruel Summer 20 {Imagineer} (nosex ScFi)
Lines: 426
Date: Sun, 11 Apr 2004 18:10:05 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d



Cruel Summer

copyright 2001-2004 by Imagineer.

comments to 
imagineer 47: yahoo green eggs com ham
but without the green eggs or ham

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Imagineer/www/


// 20: Dumped


  Noel Aquino sipped his coffee, anxious for the caffeine to kick in
and beat back the urge to sleep as he waited for Captain Ramirez. The
utter exhaustion of working long hours and shadowing Angela Barrett
with every spare moment was apparently enough to overcome the
nervousness he should be feeling at what he was to face in less than
four hours. He didn't know if he'd ever be ready to be on a radio talk
show, though Ramirez had promised to prepare him beforehand. He still
couldn't believe the chief had agreed to this stunt -- apparently
councilman Trimble and the QuickMart robbers' lawyer were stirring up a
lot of trouble for the department. Ramirez had said something about the
budget coming up for discussion next month, and rumors of severe
cutbacks under the guise of a new council-mandated efficiency program...

  Noel turned on the radio while waiting for the coffee to take effect.

  "...and later this morning on the Raymond Rocket show, Ray will have
Detective Noel Aquino and Captain Robert Ramirez from the Oak Valley
Police Department here to talk about crime prevention and the
challenges facing today's law enforcement including the recent rise in
vigilanteism. As you know, Detective Aquino heroically stopped an armed
robbery of a QuickMart early yesterday morning, while off-duty picking
up donuts for the office -- the same QuickMart where a few weeks ago
another robbery was stopped by a vigilante some have called 'the
avenging angel.' The alleged holdup duo from the first attempted
robbery made the fantastic claim of having been attacked by an angel
from heaven as the holdup was in progress, an unbelieveable story
nonetheless corroborated by the cashier of the ill-fated convenience
store and a nearby witness. As a result of that attack, councilman Mike
Trimble has called for an investigation of the Police Department,
accusing them of Selective Justice and tacit encouragement of
vigilanteism through inadequate law enforcement. We're told Captain
Ramirez has a statement answering councilman Trimble's allegations, and
that Detective Aquino has just been assigned to investigate this and
several other recent incidents of vigilante attacks which the Police
have attributed to the same young woman. You'll want to be listening to
hear the Detective's thoughts on what it's like to be chasing an angel,
and on whether it could be the fresh donuts at this particular
QuickMart that are attracting so much attention in this usually-quiet
neighborhood. That's this morning at 8, on the Raymond Rocket show here
on The Blast, KBST, 98.3, San Pedrona, Oak Valley, Irving. Stay tuned
for your valleywide weather forecast after the break."

  Noel wondered if his son knew what was happening. He hadn't really
spoken to Ricky since The Incident, and that was... two days? three
days? more? It was hard to keep track of the days when you didn't
sleep... couldn't sleep, lest the dark and seductive images play over
in his mind... Angela, the tease; Angela, the seductress; Angela, the
slut; Angela, the demon of his desire... The only way to protect his
son was to sacrifice himself, surrender to temptation, to take her
before she could take his son. To kiss those supple lips, to entangle
her tongue with his, to wrap up her dangerous curves in his strong
arms, to shield those perfect breasts with his chest, to grip the firm
globes of her ass in his experienced hands, to feel her slender legs
snaked around his waist, to enter her in one savage thrust...

  A sharp rapping on the window. Aquino awoke with a start, spilling a
few drops of hot coffee in his lap. It was Ramirez. "Open up, we gotta
get going."


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  "No! Don't go!" Angela awoke with a start. A nightmare. Ricky had
been driving away in a car... No wait, there was really a car outside;
that was odd. It was... 4:30 in the morning. The guy who delivered
newspapers didn't make his round for another hour. She got up and went
to the kitchen, her satin babydoll nightie swishing across her smooth
skin. Looking out the window she saw a car stopped in front of her
driveway. Angela tiptoed quickly to the front door, peering through the
peephole just as a shadowy figure was retreating from the porch. Her
heart skipped a beat as a name she hadn't thought about in a week leapt
into her conciousness -- had Scott found her? Or the people he'd warned
her about? Thoughts she'd dismissed as paranoid suddenly regained
frightening possibility; Angela recoiled from the door. What to do? Get
her sapphires! Defend herself! 

  The panicked teen rushed back to her room, diving over the bed to
retrieve her Sapphire bag from under the far side of the bed. No time
to change into uniform now, just get the gems on! Her trembling fingers
struggled with the clasps on her bracelets as her feet searched on the
floor and toes worked under the mesh straps of her stiletto slippers.
The tiara jammed into the tousled locks atop her head; she nodded once
to make sure it was secure. Angela pulled her drapes open a crack,
holding her breath as she peered out into the dim orange glow of the
streetlights. No motion that she could see; her ears strained to hear
anything outside, but only the hum of her old clock radio greeted them.

  Angela crept back down the hall to the front door, her sapphires
casting a faint blue glow around her. Her senses tingled, her heart
pounded. Were they already in the house? A soft creak was heard behind
her; she spun around, knees bent and arms cocked in a defensive
position, her satin babydoll briefly taking wing before settling down
around her waist again. Her limbs quivered with frightened excitement;
she'd never considered the possibility that she might face hostiles in
her own house! Her mind raced through the possibilities. There wasn't
much room to maneuver; she had to make sure they didn't get too close.
After a moment spent staring into the darkness in the direction of her
mom's room where she heard only gentle breathing, she turned back
toward the front of the house.

  Her body was hyper-sensitive; every sound amplified, every shadow
suspicious, every movement dizzying. It wasn't until she again reached
the front door, her stilettos tick-tacking on the linoleum, that she
realized she was panting. She struggled to calm herself down as she
peered out the peephole. No one. Just something on the porch. What
could it be? Some kind of boobytrap? Well, she couldn't just go out the
front door -- too many places for people to hide. Her mom had been
meaning to get rid of those shrubs, but she never got around to it...
No, she'd have to check things out from a safe vantage point first. The
safest way out of the house would be the sliding glass door out back --
the way she always left as Sapphire.

  Angela turned to retreat back down the hall; the click of her heels
against the tile entry sounded like blasting caps to the
adrenaline-charged girl. She froze after two steps; she didn't want to
give away her movements. Taking two deliberate steps back to the door
onto the doormat to announce herself at the door, she quickly reached
down and removed her jeweled slippers; holding them in one hand she
tiptoed down the hallway toward the living room.

  The cold tile on her bare feet gave rise to a feeling of
helplessness; she felt naked without her sapphire shoes. (Had she
noticed her reflection in the hall mirror, she would have seen the
feeling wasn't far from the truth. The satin babydoll showed a lot of
cleavage and barely reached her hips; the matching panties rode up,
exposing much of her firm backside as it flexed with each step.) By the
time she reached the carpeted living room panic had taken over; she was
in such a hurry to get the shoes back on her feet that she nearly fell
over, plopping down ungracefully on the arm of the couch. Her hand
found the back of the couch, keeping her from sliding over the couch
arm and landing face-first on the seat cushions. Angela felt her
breasts strain against the cups of the babydoll; the side seams split
more than an inch down from the top. She rolled off the couch back onto
her feet, ironically feeling more secure perched atop the
awkwardly-high heels.

  A careful peek past the window curtain revealed an empty back yard;
if anyone was lying in wait, they would be too far away to grab her.
Angela took a moment to get ready, then snicked the lock, slid the
door, pushed past the curtain and stepped outside. Her legs flexed, her
sapphires answered the call with a brief flicker, and an instant later
she was perched on the roof.

  With her ascent to the roof, panic subsided, replaced by controlled
excitement. Now Sapphire had the advantage. She scanned the featureless
back yard for signs of odd shapes or movement; nothing. Good. She was
about to hop up over the house to the front when she remembered the
open glass door. Shoot, if I leave it open someone might sneak inside.
Well, I better check to make sure nobody's sneaking around...

  Sapphire rose up in the air fifteen feet -- high enough that prowlers
close to the back or side of the house wouldn't notice her, but low
enough that anyone out front couldn't see her above the house -- and
floated toward the back fence, turning 180 to face the house. She stood
perched like a bird on one foot on the top of the wooden fence. No one
crawling about under the eaves in back... (she hopped/floated to the
left) No one on this side... (she floated to the right) No one on this
side either. Good. Sapphire arced back to the peak of the roof, landing
in a crouch. A hard look up and down the street revealed no activity.
The only sound was the spray of automatic sprinklers from the Johnsons'
across the street and the hum of the sodium streetlamp.

  She tiptoed down the slope of the roof carefully, her sapphires
making the impossible simple. No sign of activity in the front yard,
either. Maybe she *was* being paranoid. Maybe Scott hadn't found her
after all. Still, better safe than sorry. There was still the
mysterious object someone had left on the porch. Nobody ordinary
delivered at this hour.

  Legs flexed and kicked; Sapphire launched herself into a high arc
toward the sidewalk; arms held out wide for balance, she slowed her
descent and touched down ever so softly on the edge of the front lawn,
just at the edge of the streetlamp's glow, facing the front of the
house.

  There was no one here.

  Quick but cautious steps took Sapphire up to her porch, her gaze all
the while shifting back and forth among the shrubs and shadows in the
yard.

  The object on the porch was a rolled-up paper grocery sack. She knelt
down and unrolled the top, reaching a hand inside. Clothes. Cotton,
denim. And paper beneath them. Angela peered inside the bag, the soft
blue glow of her wrist sapphire providing just enough light to identify
the familiar contents. The clothes she'd worn to Ricky's. Why was he
dropping them off in the middle of the night? Her heart leapt to her
throat. It didn't mean... The paper underneath her clothes had markings
on it; her fingers frantically grabbed at it, practically ripping it
out of the bag, straightening it out and holding it with two hands to
see it by the light of her sapphires.

  It was a sketch of someone's face. Her face. And yet not her face. It
was more beautiful and happier than she now felt. The image looked pure
and chaste, an impossible contrast to the way she'd behaved...

  She flipped the paper over. On the other side, just three words:

  I'm so sorry

  Angela felt as if her heart had fallen right out of her. Ricky!

  She grabbed the bag and ran down to the sidewalk. She looked
pleadingly up and down the street, hoping against hope that somehow his
car would be there, that she could run to him, apologize, somehow take
back the bad things she'd done, somehow make him see that she wasn't
like that...

  ...and yet she was standing in the street wearing almost nothing. She
*was* like that. The only friend she'd had left, and the first person
she might have had feelings for... and she'd scared him off, made him
think she was some kind of nympho, a cheap tart who was only interested
in sex... she had no idea how much he meant to her until now. Now that
he was gone. He'd seen who she really was, who the sapphires had made
her become, and... and... *this*...

  Tears flowed freely down Angela's face. Ricky had been the one boy...
man who always treated her with respect. The man who saw her as she
wanted to be. And she took his faith in her and threw it in his face.
Flaunted her true self in front of him. Shattered his image of her.

  There we no illusions now. Angela had only Sapphire.

  The bag fell to the sidewalk as a lost lonely little girl floated
gently away.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  "...and later this morning on the Raymond Rocket show, Ray will have
Detective Noel Aquino and Captain Robert Ramirez from the Oak Valley
Police Department here to talk about crime prevention and the
challenges facing today's law enforcement including the recent rise in
vigilanteism. As you know, Detective Aquino heroically stopped an armed
robbery of a QuickMart early yesterday morning, while off-duty picking
up donuts for the office -- "

  Ricky snapped off the car's radio.

  If Ricky were speaking to his father he might have congratulated him.
As it was he was having difficulty balancing the hero image of the
QuickMart story with the indignant, judgemental, puritain tyrant who'd
chased Angela out of his life. It wasn't right. He was just starting to
really get to know her... or so he'd thought until she'd done...
*that*... on his bed. He dreamed about it at night, even as he
questioned his own motivations for wanting to be with her.

  But no matter how much he questioned his father's reaction, he wasn't
about to defy him. Not just to see a girl he didn't even know anymore.
Maybe what his father had said was right -- the fantasy was better than
the reality. "Girls like that will get you in trouble, Rick."

  Yeah, the fantasy was probably better than reality. In his fantasy,
Angela was his sweetheart. Shy and innocent, unaware of her own beauty,
she was attentive, caring, supporting of his work, and loved to spend
time with him.

  And by night, she became Sapphire, Guardian Angel of the Greater Oak
Valley Area. Superheroine extraordinare. Sexy, Strong, Smart... but
still emotionally vulnerable, and not invincible. She would need
someone to watch out for her, help her, support her. And he could
chronicle her adventures in his comic books...

  In reality, Angela's display scared him -- maybe she was a party
girl, always getting in trouble; maybe she used drugs? Or maybe she was
a dominatrix or some kind of sexual freak, a predator ready to drag him
into a world of deviant and dangerous behavior...

  Yeah, the fantasy was definitely better than the reality. Angela his
girlfriend, Angela as Sapphire, Sapphire a superheroine! Even if it was
ridiculous.

  Then again, in reality he'd had a beautiful almost-naked girl doing
unspeakable things to herself while he watched. As dirty as it made him
feel, or as low as he might now regard Angela, or as scary as it seemed
in its now-defunct implications, a part of him couldn't help but find
it very appealing.

  Ricky gathered his resolve. Maybe his father was right. Angela wasn't
the right girl for him. As hard as it was (in more ways than one), he
had to break off the relationship. He couldn't see her or talk to her
anymore. He had to forget her, or he might even get obsessed.

  Ricky pulled up to the house, stomping down the emergency brake and
putting the transmission in park. The motor kept running as the young
man grabbed a paper grocery bag on the seat next to him and got out.
Quiet footsteps made their way to the doorstep. The bag dropped. And a
young man hurried back to his car even as a rush of regret leadened his
heart.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  The soft beep of the motion sensor woke him from his nap. He looked
out the van's back window, through the peeled-up corner of the dark
tinting.
   
  There it was again; the kid in the Mercury. Probably her boyfriend.
He suppressed a jealous thought. He had no right to be jealous; after
all, he'd turned her life upside-down and abandoned her.

  What was her boyfriend doing here at 4:30 in the morning? He didn't
think she was the type for a booty call. Maybe it was the boy's father;
he'd been past here in the same car twice yesterday. Was Dear Old Dad
the suspicious type?

  The headlights switched off as the car turned the corner. He
struggled to focus the binoculars on the driver but couldn't focus
quickly enough. He moved to the side window.

  The car stopped halfway in the driveway. The driver got out; it was
the kid. He left the car running. Was he picking her up?

  The kid was carrying a bag. Paper grocery sack with the top rolled
closed. The kid headed up to the porch; a moment later he came hustling
back to the car without the bag. The car lurched back out of the
driveway, then briefly squealed a back tire as it hurried off.

  Binoculars focused on the house. He could see her bedroom window to
the right, but the front porch was blocked by the garage. No lights, no
activity. Apparently she hadn't heard the car. 

  He picked up his digital camera and switched it to infrared, zooming
in on the house. He couldn't zoom as close as the binoculars, but the
infrared mode picked out things beyond the glare of the streetlamp and
the neighbors' security light better than his own eyes did. He stared
for several minutes; might as well, now that he was up. The camera
panned up and down the block, checking the neighbors' houses. Nobody
else was up either. Oh well. Might as well catch a few winks...

  Waitaminute, what was that? The camera caught movement next to her
house. No, not next to, on top of! It's a person... no, a woman... no,
it's her! What's she doing on the roof? He snapped off a few shots as
he watched her tiptoe down the pitch of the roof to the front of the
house...

  He grabbed the binoculars. Where'd she go? He scanned the rooftop;
she was gone. Wait, there, in the front yard, visible at the edge of
the streetlamp's sodium glow. What's she wearing? Looks like some kind
of frilly camisole. Babydoll, his mental lingerie catalog corrected.
And high-heeled slippers. So much for being shy... She looked stunning.
Sexy. How'd she get down on the lawn so fast? She was looking around
nervously, like she was trying to spot a burglar hiding behind the
shrubs in her yard. Now she was walking up to the porch. She
disappeared from view.

  Moments later she came running as best she could manage in the little
skyscraper slippers down to the sidewalk, looking up the street one
way, then the other.

  Oh shit, she was looking right at him! No, wait, she was just looking
for her boyfriend's car.

  He took the opportunity to get a good look as she stood there
motionless for a long time. Through the binoculars he recognized the
shoes -- the sapphires were on them. Oh, if she had any idea how much
trouble those stones were she wouldn't be wearing them out on the
street like that! His gaze crept up the girl's curves -- if she had any
idea how brief that negligee was she wouldn't be standing under the
streetlight like that... God, she was beautiful, even in the harsh
orange overhead glow of a sodium streetlamp. The binoculars continued
their rise up her form. She clutched the paper bag in both hands,
holding it close to her body, just under her breasts, which threatened
to fall out of the low-cut garment; she seemed to be shaking, bobbing
slowly up and down. Finally he saw her face. 

  She was crying. 

  Tears streamed down her face; her mouth creased into an open frown,
her lips quivering. She sobbed uncontrollably, her body pitching in
emotional agony.

  It hurt for him to see her like this.

  He put the binoculars down, drawing away from the side window.

  His hand found the handle to the back door. Fingers gripped it
tightly before he even realized what he was doing. He stopped himself.
He wanted to throw open the door, run to her. Take her up in his arms
and hold her. Soothe away her pain. Despite his years he remembered all
too well the crushing weight of young heartbreak. He wanted to protect
her.

  But I can't.

  Isn't that why you're here? a voice within him asked. To protect her?

  Yes, but now is not the time. I can't come charging up to her like
some stalker. She'll scream, she'll run, the neighbors will see, I'll
never get a chance to explain myself.

  If only things hadn't gone so bad... he'd thought he had everything
under control. Thought he'd get away with it. Or something. Now he
didn't know what he'd been thinking. Or what he was going to do now
that he was here, exactly. 

  He looked out the side window again, but she was gone. The paper bag
lay on its side, haloed by the glow of the streetlamp, a lonely prop
marking the end of a heartbreaking scene.

   


__________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
Yahoo! Tax Center - File online by April 15th
http://taxes.yahoo.com/filing.html

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+