Message-ID: <50238asstr$1105945803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Return-Path: <dstar@pele.cx>
X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com
Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com
X-Original-Message-ID: <E1CqMH1-00040G-00@pele.pele.cx>
From: Shalon Wood <dstar@pele.cx>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 16 Jan 2005 20:05:43 -0600
Subject: {ASSM} Prudence, TX Population 1276 15 (Mff rom no-sex)
#mail -s "Prudence, TX Population 1276 15 (Mff rom no-sex)" -a "
Lines: 615
x-asstr-message-id-hack: 50238
Date: Mon, 17 Jan 2005 02:10:03 -0500
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
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2005/50238>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: akalexis, dennyw
This is a continuation of "Prudence, Texas Population 1276", a
collaboration between my husband, Shalon (dstar@pele.cx), and I. The
raw material and dialog were produced by both of us. The final editting
on the first two files was done by him, but I took over after that,
thus explaining any stylistic differences between the first files and
the rest.
Standard disclaimers apply; this story may or may not contain, in any
given part, graphic depictions of lesbianism, homosexuality, group sex,
bdsm, underage (teen) sex, magic, occultism, violence, and biting
sarcasm. If you're underage, or if for any other reason it's illegal
for you to read this, or you're disturbed by the content, please don't
read it.
Archived at http://prudence.pele.cx. Comments *greatly* appreciated.
Enjoy,
Velvet
PS: I've given up on trying to update on any predictable schedule, so
if you'd like to be notified when Prudence updates, feel free to
email me at velvet@pele.cx with the word "Prudence" in the subject
line of the email, and I'll be happy to add you to our new mailing
list.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
They drew quite a bit of attention when Mark drove up with Kristen
beside him. Students and teachers watched even more curiously as he
solemnly escorted her to her locker, then walked her to class, staying
beside her in the nearly empty room until the teacher arrived. By the
time he left her to go find the principal, the whispering had already
started in earnest.
Principal Ward was in his office, peacefully drinking coffee and
enjoying the morning paper when Mark walked in without knocking and
closed the door behind him. He collapsed in the chair in front of the
deck and glared at the man with obvious annoyance. Before Ward ccould
say anything, he asked, "Why didn't you warn me about her father?"
Ward frowns, puzzled. "What about him? I _did_ tell you he was
eccentric."
"Eccentric!" Mark snarled. "He's holding me _personally_ responsible
for her safety. Or else."
"What?" Ward still looked confused. "Why?"
Mark threw his hands up in the air. "How should I know? Maybe because
I'm the one who came to him about it. All _I_ know is that if I don't
do everything in my power to keep his little girl safe . . . well,
never mind. But it won't be pretty."
The principal shook his head. "I did _not_ know that would happen,
Mark. Jesus, the man is a total . . . I'm sorry."
"It's ok, I guess." Mark sighed dramatically. "I wanted to help her
anyway. Be careful what you wish for...The rumors are going to start,
though. Actually, they probably already have. I drove her to school
today, and walked her to her locker and then to class. I am _not_
risking her dad thinking I'm not taking this seriously."
"Understandable. I'll speak with the other teachers privately and let
them know what's going on. I can't do anything about the students,
unfortunately."
Mark nodded, making a face. "Yeah. I'm probably going to have a little
trouble with students blaming me for her decision, though if they
actually _say_ something to me, I can quietly set them straight." He
rubbed his eyes. "For some strange reason, I didn't sleep very well
last night. Go figure. I think she'll be spending a fair amount of time
at my place when her father's out of town. I'll try to have nother
student around as a . . . well, chaperone. At least when I can." He
looked at the principal. "Are you going to have trouble with the
school board when word gets around? I'll try to do what I can to
minimize the rumors, but that's not going to be much."
Ward shook his head. "I honestly do not know. Most of them have had
some sort of confrontation with Steven Davis at one point or another.
He's well known for being a bit over the top. I think they'll
understand."
"Good." Mark sighed again. "Well, at least I got a shot of good vodka
out of it. I think he wanted to make sure he caught me off guard." He
glanced at the clock. "I'd better get to class."
The principal nodded and said again, "I'm sorry, Mark."
Mark just sighed, shook his head, and left.
--------------------------
Mark was unsurprised to find that the rumors had, indeed, started. A
few of them were unexpected. Such as the one that the reason she
stopped seeing other guys was that Mark was incredibly jealous and
possessive and threatened to kill anyone who touched her. He frowned,
and started looking for a chance to talk to David and Kevin.
Unfortunately, Kevin avoided him like the plague, and David glared
daggers through his skull every time he saw him, then turned pointedly
away.
Finally, Mark resorted to actually calling them into his classroom.
Kevin leaned nervously against the wall. David glared sullenly.
"What do _you_ want?" he asked.
Mark sighed. "You've obviously heard the rumors. Wonderful. It
would have been _nice_ if you'd given me the benefit of the doubt, but
fine." He glared at them. "For your information, Kristen's father is
holding me _personally_ responsible for her safety. _Personally_.
Just because I was the one who had to talk to him about what's going
on."
"Oh." David blinked. "So you're not...."
"Going to kill someone just because they talk to her? No." Mark threw
up his hands. "Which is, by the way, an incredibly stupid rumor,
since I _heard_ about last Wednesday at lunch. You're still alive,
aren't you?"
David shook his head, stubbornly ignoring the question. "So you're
not sleeping with her, is what I meant," he corrected him.
He just stared at the boy. "Give me some credit for having a _few_
brains, David. She's underage, and she's a student to boot. That
would be just about the stupidest move I could make."
Kevin looked at him skeptically. "Man, if she wanted you to, you
would. Anyone would."
Mark snorted. "Then maybe I'm lucky that she decided to become
celibate. I have _no_ desire to throw away my freedom and career,
just for a roll in the hay." He became serious, and looked at them.
"Look, she's what, fourteen? Ask me again in three years, when she's
legal, and the answer might be different. But for now -- I am _not_
going to risk everything just for sex."
David shook his head again. "You're not dumb enough to admit that
you'd do it. But you are human. It doesn't matter. The important
thing is that you're not going to try and treat her like your personal
property and keep her from doing what she wants."
Mark just shook his head. "Even if I was sleeping with her, I
wouldn't do that. As is, of _course_ I'm not going to do that. All I'm
going to try to do is keep her safe."
"Good. That rumor might be a good thing then," David said, surprising
the hell out of Mark.
"Huh?"
"It'll keep at least some of the jerks from bothering her when she
doesn't want to be bothered."
"Yep." Kevin nodded in agreement with his friend. "A lot of guys who
wouldn't think anything of hassling her won't want to mess with you."
Mark raised his eyebrows, and then looked thoughtful. "I guess that
makes sense. And they'll be mad at _me_, not at her, so if they come
after anyone . . . that could be useful."
"Yep." David grinned. "Big, muscular adult males who blow things up
are much less likely to be harassed than pretty little girls."
"Indeed," Mark agreed with a smile.
-----------------------------
Kayla confronted him at lunch. "What the fuck is going on?"
"Huh?"
"Have you suddenly turned suicidal, or what? Have a sudden craving to
become the luvslave of a burly inmate named Chet?"
Mark stared at her, confused.
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "I come in this
morning, and half a dozen people ask me if it's true that you've
decided Kristen is yours and did you really beat up Aaron because he
looked at her?"
He blinked, then sighed. "Oh. That. I assumed that Kristen would have
told you, since y'all are friends." He spoke as if they were being
overheard, mindful of his half-open door. "Her father decided to hold
me _personally_ responsible for her safety, so I brought her to school
and escorted her to her first class." He made a face. "Which reminds
me, I'd like to ask you for a favor. She's probably going to spend a
fair amount of time at my place when her father is out of town, and
I'd feel better if there was a . . . chaperone around. Maybe that
will help defuse the rumors. If it was two guys, with her reputation
people would just say we were both . . . well."
Kayla stared at him in disbelief, then fought not to laugh. "Uh. I
see. Sure, I'll talk to my mom about it."
Mark nodded. "Thanks. You know, these rumors might be useful. If
people think I made her stop, maybe they'll be mad at me, not her."
"Um. Yeah. That makes sense." She leaned forward over the desk and
whispered, "You have got some serious balls, there, Mark."
He just grinned, and whispered back, "I'd think you would know."
"I can't believe you really have the nerve . . . " Kayla shook her
head, grinning.
Mark chuckled. "It's the perfect cover, though."
"No better lie than the truth, I guess," she agreed, smiling. "Just
be careful."
"I am. The nice thing is that I can be visibly worried about her
safety."
"Yeah. Okay, well, I'm gonna go have lunch with her. Don't beat me
up, k?"
Mark grinned. "Go eat." He headed to the teachers' lounge to eat
himself.
There were more rumors after lunch, mainly saying that the fact that
Kristen was in the cafeteria for the entire lunch break confirmed the
earlier rumors. On the positive side, though, the principal seemed to
have talked to the teachers, because the disapproval . . . and in a
couple of notable cases, extreme jealousy . . . which was radiating
from them before lunch was gone.
----------------------
The rest of the week followed a similar pattern. Mark and Kristen
would spend the night either at his house or Steven's, he would drive
her to school and escort her to her locker and then to class. No more
threatening notes appeared, and if the rumors didn't die down, then at
least they didn't get any worse.
They made plans for the wedding, and spent a lot of time in enjoyable
exploration. Kayla was over for at least a couple of hours each day,
ostensibly to 'tutor Kristen in math.' They discovered that any
morning Kristen started out glowing slightly, she could skip her
traditional 'lunch break', a discovery that pleased her immensely and
resulted in her actually gaining a pound or so during the week.
The girls seemed to have a lot of fun together, in bed and out. They
laughed a lot, and teased each other and Mark. Kristen nagged Kayla
into doing her English homework; Kayla nudged Kristen into completing
her algebra rather than burning it. All week Mark watched them
together, and he grew more and more convinced that he needed to have a
serious talk with Kristen.
Friday night, after Kayla had gone home and Kristen was happily
snuggled up to him on the couch, he bent and kissed her forehead.
"Hey, love. Need to talk to you," he said, unable to hide his
nervousness.
She looked up at him apprehensively, eyes wide. "What's wrong? Is it
tomorrow?"
Mark shook his head. "No. It's . . . well, to be honest, I'm scared to
bring it up. It's not anything bad, but I'm scared to death I'll say
it wrong, and make you think it _is_, and hurt your feelings. I
_wouldn't_ bring it up, but I want to be up front with you about
everything, so that you never have to worry or wonder about how I
feel."
"Mark..." Now she sounded truly scared. "Just tell me. Please."
He kissed her gently. "You know I love you, right? And you know
Kayla's in love with you too."
"Yeah, I know," she said quietly, almost a whisper.
"How do you feel about her? Any less confused?"
"I . . . I still don't know." She looked away. "I just don't want to
do anything to screw things up. This week has been _so_ nice."
Mark kissed her again. "It sounds like there's something you _would_
like to do, but you are afraid it will screw things up. Want to talk
about it?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. If things stayed just like they
are, I'd be happier than I've ever been in my life."
"Which do you like better, her going home and not making any demands,
or when she spent the night with us last week?" he asked.
"What do you mean, making demands?"
"Well, you know, she's not insisting you have a relationship with her,
even though she'd like it. She's not requiring anything from you, just
taking what you are willing to give, then going home. Last weekend was
a little bit closer to what an actual relationship would be like, I
think."
"I didn't really see it as 'demanding,' Mark. Did you?" Kristen
seemed puzzled.
Mark shook his head. "No. But I wanted to know how you felt. Frankly
. . . " He sighed. "This is where I get scared, because I'm afraid
that if I say it wrong you'll think I don't love you, and that's _not_
the case. I'm not even worried about how you'll feel about it. I'm
worried about my ability to say it right."
"Mark . . . you are scaring _me_. I don't know what you're trying to
say. I liked last weekend, yeah. A lot. I would like Kayla to stay
over more, if it's okay with you. But if you don't want to, that's
okay."
"Okay." He sighed. "I'm not good with subtlety. I love you,
Kristen, more than I ever knew possible. But . . . I think I could
fall in love with Kayla, too, very easily. _Too_, love, not _instead
of_. I wouldn't stop loving you, or even love you less." He looked
at her, obviously afraid of her reaction.
Kristen sat quietly, face blank, and he swallowed nervously.
Finally, she asked, "What do you expect me to say?"
Mark's voice was very small. "I love you? And, maybe, 'thank you for
being honest with me'?"
She smiled slightly. "I love you. And your honesty. But you don't
make things easy, you know."
"I'm sorry. But . . . it felt wrong not to tell you. And I don't
ever want you wondering. I'm not in love with her yet, love, and if
you want, I'll try not to. But -- you are going to be my wife. You
have the right to know what I feel, _whatever_ that is. And she'll
come second, you know. If it ever came down to a choice between you
or her -- well, it couldn't, because there would _be_ no choice."
Kristen pulled her legs up on the couch and curled them underneath
her, wrapping her arms around her knees. "That sounds awful, Mark.
To her."
Mark sighed, and nodded. "I know. But then, I'd always come second to
you for her, so I'm in the same boat."
"No, you're not, because you come first to me."
"And she doesn't." He sighed again. "Point. I don't know, love."
"What . . . what would _you_ view as the ideal outcome of this
situation? Honestly?" she asked him.
"Honestly? For all three of us to be in love with each other. She and
I are already in love with you."
She sighed. "You don't think that would be too complicated?"
Mark tried to smother a laugh, but couldn't, and began laughing
uncontrollaby. "Like . . . things . . . aren't . . . already?" he
managed to get out between laughs.
"Hmf. You know what I meant."
"Seriously?" He smiled at her. "It'd be hard, yeah. Relationships
always are. But we could make it work, if we wanted. There's only
one question."
"What?"
"How you feel about her."
Kristen whispered, "Oh." She looked away from him, embarrassed. "I
. . . I still don't know. I'm sorry, I know . . . I know that sounds
stupid, but I just don't."
Mark shook his head. "No, it doesn't." He paused, thinking. "Try
this: Imagine her dating someone else. How does it make you feel?"
Kristen thought for a moment, then said, "Hurt."
"Ok. What about, oh, her going off to college away from you?"
"Unhappy."
"What about her moving in with us?"
She smiled. "Scared."
"Good scared, or bad scared?"
"Both, I think."
"What about you taking her out to a movie? Someplace like Dallas,
where you could?"
"I'd like that," she said, without hesitation.
Mark nodded. "What would you want to do if she came down with the
flu?"
"Take care of her."
"Does that help you understand how you feel any better?"
"I think so. I just . . . it doesn't seem fair to her. And I'm
scared to . . . to promise something that I'm not sure I can give."
"What are you afraid you won't be able to give?"
Kristen swallowed hard. "Commitment. Sharing."
"Why wouldn't you be able to give her commitment? And what are you
afraid of not sharing?"
She looked up at him, eyes miserable. "You," she whispered.
Mark pulled her close. "Love . . . she loves you first. She wouldn't
want what you can't give. You've already shared my body with her;
what are you afraid you can't share?"
"Your . . . your time, your attention, your love. I don't know if I
could stand for you to look at someone else the way you do me."
"Okay. That's fair. I want you to imagine me looking at her the way
I do you, and her looking at _you_ the way I do, and maybe her looking
at me that way. How do those make you feel?"
"It . . . hurts, Mark. But, it feels good, too."
"Imagine both of us looking at you the way I do."
Kristen smiled. "I'm selfish. That doesn't bother me at all."
"It kind of sounds to me like . . . well, like you're already almost
in love with her, or maybe you already _are_, but that you're afraid
to lose what we have if you try for that. Maybe I'm seeing it wrong,
though; I'm not trying to tell you what you feel, just what it seems
like to me."
"Mark . . . you don't know how _different_ this has been for me. It's
so wonderful. Of course I'm scared to do anything that might hurt it.
I think I would die."
He smiled and kissed her. "Love, a three-way relationship might not
work out. That's always a risk, though in our case I think it's a
small one. But you could _never_ lose me."
"Even if I'm selfish and jealous?" she asked in a tiny, fragile voice.
"You aren't, you know."
"Am so. You share _me_."
Mark shook his head. "You've already shared my body with her. And
you haven't seemed the least bit jealous of my friendship with her."
"Love . . . the only reason she hasn't actually fucked you is because
of my jealosy."
He looked surprised. "I thought she wasn't ready for that yet."
Kristen shrugged. "She would be. With you. But she doesn't want to
bother me."
"Would it?"
She blushed. "Maybe, but . . . " She turned and hid her face against
his shoulder.
"But?" he asked.
Kristen shook her head.
He looked at the back of her head with dawning understanding. "The
thought turns you on, doesn't it?"
She gave a quick, embarrassed nod.
"That doesn't sound selfish or jealous to me. How do you feel when you
see me make her come?"
"Turned on," she admitted reluctantly.
"Not jealous?"
Kristen was silent for a long while before answering him. "Um. No.
I don't think so."
Mark nodded. "Like I said, you aren't jealous or selfish."
"Can't we just see what happens?" she pleaded. And not worry about
it?"
"We can. But . . . will you do one thing for me? Tell me what, in an
ideal world, if everything worked out perfectly and we had the perfect
result . . . what would that be?"
"Not having to hide anything any more."
"And you and me and Kayla?
"Just . . . making love whenever we wanted, however we wanted, without
having to worry about anything. No pressure, just pleasure. Going
out, cuddling up together, laughing."
"Sounds like being in love, to me."
"But we _can't_. Especially not here."
"We can't _openly_ be in love. But we could drive to Dallas every so
often. We could cuddle together here in the house."
"But she has to go home and sleep all by herself, like . . . " She
broke off, biting her lip, her face twisted with pain.
"Like?" he prodded gently.
She sighed and looked down at the couch, not meeting his eyes as she
answered him. "Like when someone just wants to fuck you but is too
embarrassed to actually be _seen_ with you or let you sleep in his
bed. Like we're ashamed of her."
Mark's arms tightened around her as he realized that what she was
describing could only be from personal experience. He kissed her
gently, trying to take some of that remembered pain away. "But that's
not why she'd have to go home. It wouldn't be that we didn't want her
here."
"But wouldn't it _feel_ that way to her? If I could stay and she
couldn't?"
"Only if we didn't _show_ her that we didn't feel that way," he said
soothingly.
"I think . . . I think I'd like to try. But I just don't want to hurt
her."
"I don't think you will, love. I said it seemed to me like either you
love her, or are close. Which do you think it is?"
"I don't know how to tell, Mark."
He looked thoughtful. "Good point. Imagine telling her that you love
her . . . does it feel like you are telling the truth?"
Kristen thought, then nodded, slowly. "Yes."
"Then I think that's your answer."
"I'll . . . think about it. It's still scary." She smiled. "You
know . . . this isn't how I pictured my life if I ever got married."
She shook her head a bit wonderingly. "It isn't how I pictured
getting married, either, I guess."
"I'm not surprised. I assume you expected what everyone else does?"
Kristen looked down at her hands in her lap. "Yeah."
"Are you upset at not having a big wedding?"
"Not really. Well . . . sorta. Mainly I just . . . it just kinda
hurts that it has to be so secret. I can't even wear a wedding ring."
"Yeah. I know." He looked at her unhappily, wishing there were
something he could do to make it hurt less. "You could wear your
wedding ring on a chain around your neck," he suggested, "It's not the
same, I know, but . . . "
She looked up at him and smiled sadly. "It's okay, Mark. I
understand why, I really do. _I'll_ know you want me, whether anyone
else does or not. That's what counts."
Mark kissed her again, then asked, "Hey, would you like to call Kayla
and see if she can spend the night? Or would you rather not?"
"Not tonight. I just want to cuddle up and go to sleep, really, if
that's okay with you."
"That's fine, love. After we get married, though . . . want to go out
to dinner, maybe see a movie?"
She smiled up at him. "I'd really like that."
"Okay. Just us, or Kayla too?"
"It wouldn't hurt your feelings if Kayla came? I mean . . . since we
are getting married and everything tomorrow?"
Mark smiled. "Not if you want her to, love. I . . . well, I like
seeing the two of you together. You look . . . right. And it would
be kind of hypocritical of me to be bothered, after our conversation."
He hugged her. "Besides, if our relationship works out, you might
want to marry her, and I certainly wouldn't want to be left out
afterwards!"
Kristen laughed. "Sweetheart, we're in Texas, not on Tertius."
Mark said, "Oh, we couldn't get _legally_ married . . . but we could
have a ceremony, anyway. It might not be legally binding, but it would
mean something to _us_."
She cuddled up to him, smiling. "Love you."
"Love you, too."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you like this, you might want to take a look at Strange Love, an
e-zine of sf/fantasy/paranormal erotica. The first issue is on sale
now for $2 at:
http://strangelove.pele.cx
Take a look!
.
--
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}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+