Path: not-for-mail
From: deeperblue <deepbluedesires@hotmail.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.d
Subject: Re: {ASSM} Grant's Story {Riv Yavtry} (bsolo, mf nc preg magic?)
Date: Sun, 26 Nov 2006 17:32:44 -0800
Organization: http://groups.google.com
Lines: 369
Message-ID: <1164591164.027866.241760@f16g2000cwb.googlegroups.com>
References: <54702asstr$1160712601@assm.asstr.org>
NNTP-Posting-Host: 74.116.137.51
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
X-Trace: posting.google.com 1164591168 29236 127.0.0.1 (27 Nov 2006 01:32:48 GMT)
X-Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 27 Nov 2006 01:32:48 +0000 (UTC)
In-Reply-To: <54702asstr$1160712601@assm.asstr.org>
User-Agent: G2/1.0
X-HTTP-UserAgent: Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Windows NT 5.1; en-US; rv:1.8.0.8) Gecko/20061025 Firefox/1.5.0.8,gzip(gfe),gzip(gfe)
Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
Injection-Info: f16g2000cwb.googlegroups.com; posting-host=74.116.137.51; posting-account=251B8AwAAAA_GPrtVzKpCMEpjUOewGaa
===================
really want to hear more about grant........:)
Riv wrote:
> My Muse deposited an idea for a series in my hopper. I didn't want to
> leave it there to to decompose, so I wrote up the first two parts while it
> was fresh. The two parts make a relatively self-contained story, so I
> decided to merge them and release to ASSM. Constructive criticism is
> welcome, but I'd especially appreciate opinions on whether I should make
> additional adventures for Grant a priority. Riv Yavtry
>
> _______________________________________________ No banners. No pop-ups.
> No kidding. Make My Way your home on the Web - http://www.myway.com
>
> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
> This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's
> Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP)
> system due to inadequate formatting.
> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
>
>
> <1st attachment, "grant.txt" begin>
>
> My name is Grant. Really. There is some corroborating evidence later
> in my story.
>
> I suppose the right place to start is when I was very little. I
> watched a cartoon of a fairy tale on television that helped to shape
> my life.
>
> A kingdom was terrorised by a wicked witch. Traditionally the
> seventh child of a seventh child has magical powers, and there was a
> prophecy that one day such a child would possess enough magical power
> to vanquish the witch. The witch went round killing all seventh
> children of seventh children to stop the prophecy being fulfilled. A
> woman, a seventh child, gave birth to a son, her seventh child.
> Knowing that the witch was coming for him and that she couldn't
> protect him, she put him in a waterproof basket in the river and let
> him float away. The witch found the woman, killed her and sought high
> and low for the little boy. The boy was raised by a couple who found
> him floating further down the river, and he discovered his destiny
> just in time to use his magical powers to defeat the witch, avenge
> his mother and free the kingdom.
>
> That night I was so excited by the film that my mind raced and I
> couldn't sleep. I did the math. I was a seventh child. All my
> siblings were at least five years older so although I was part of a
> large family, none of them wanted to hang out with me and I had quite
> a lonely childhood. My father was an only child, but my mother was
> the youngest of a large family. I counted the aunts and uncles, but
> was bitterly disappointed to realise that there were only five, so
> including my mother that made six.
>
> Still, I developed a strong interest in magic and all things
> mystical. At school it was the worst of both worlds - I wasn't
> athletic and had the reputation of being a geek, but had none of the
> usual redeeming features of being a geek such as being an academic
> high-flier. However my reputation for being a bit odd meant that the
> other kids didn't bother me too much.
>
> That changed when I started senior school. There was a group of boys
> who bullied me mercilessly. My older brothers tried to protect me
> when they could, but the school tried to segregate different age
> groups so I was usually on my own.
>
> One morning during break, one of the worst bullies, a boy named
> Billy Jenkins, managed to catch me. He tripped me so I fell over,
> kicked me in the ribs a few times, then knelt on top of me, pinning
> me to the ground. A crowd of his cronies gathered round to watch.
>
> "Let's see what you've got in your pockets."
>
> I struggled, but to no avail, as one by one he rifled through my
> pockets and helped himself to anything of value. Then he found my
> wallet, including some money I had saved to buy a brother his
> birthday present after school.
>
> "No, please don't take that, it's for my brother," I beseeched
>
> "Serves you right for being such a pathetic little weed," he
> replied, slapping my face so hard it made my teeth rattle.
>
> I noticed a loose brick on the edge of the roof of the building
> behind Billy. I desperately wished I could somehow reach out and use
> it to smash him on the back of the head. Then, amazingly, I could
> feel the weight of the brick in my hands...
>
> The next few months were a very dark time for me. Apparently they
> found me screaming "I didn't mean to do it" over and over again. The
> back of Billy Jenkins' skull was bashed in - he lived but was
> severely brain-damaged and spent the rest of his life a quadriplegic.
> The police investigated, but were baffled. There was no way the brick
> could have fallen from the roof and landed within ten feet of Billy
> Jenkins, and yet it clearly had. They were equally convinced that I
> could have had nothing to do with it, despite what I'd been screaming
> - there was no brick dust on my hands. Billy Jenkins' parents sued
> the school for negligence and won, getting enough money to look after
> Billy for the rest of his life. However they squandered it holidays,
> fast cars and a constant supply of beer. I was sectioned to a mental
> hospital, where I was kept under a chemical cosh for almost a year.
>
> Eventually the doctors reckoned I wasn't a danger to anyone, and let
> me go home. Even today I can't remember more than an occasional flash
> of the hospital. I was allowed back to school, but fortunately the
> remaining bullies gave me a wide berth.
>
> About this sort of time puberty and hormones hit me. I discovered
> how pleasurable it was to rub my cock, how that made it hard and even
> more pleasurable to rub. Somehow I knew I shouldn't make such
> activity obvious but discretion wasn't my strong point and one day my
> dad caught me. I expected to be punished, but instead he handed me a
> well-used book and told me to read it. It was a sex education manual.
> At first I could scarcely believe it, a man pushing his cock into the
> hole a woman pees from, more-or-less, but as I read the details I
> realised that it was true. It also explained why the boys and girls
> in my class were acting so strangely around each other since I had
> gone back to school.
>
> I started looking at girls in a whole new light, but with my history
> as a wacko they gave me a very wide berth. There was one girl in my
> class in particular, called Melissa, curly chestnut hair, sparkling
> hazel eyes, fantastic figure including a nicely developing pair of
> tits, who I thought was absolutely gorgeous, but she wouldn't even
> give me the time of day.
>
> One Saturday I was in my room engrossed in a book on witches and
> warlocks when my mom turfed me out.
>
> "You shouldn't be stuck indoors on a day like this. Go out and play
> with your friends."
>
> Problem - I didn't have any friends. Anyway, I wandered down to the
> park and sat on a bench near the lake, from where I could watch the
> birds. After a while, I saw a girl walking slowly towards me along
> the path, totally engrossed in the music she was listening to. She
> looked about 20, with a beautiful face, long, golden tresses and a
> stunning figure. She was wearing a lightweight summer dress that came
> down almost to her knees. My cock shot to attention and I had to
> covertly adjust my pants to hide the fact. I found myself wishing I
> could lift up the front of her dress to see what lay beneath.
> Suddenly I could feel the thin cotton fabric of the hem in my hands
> and I lifted it up, revealing a very shapely pair of thighs and white
> panties. At first the girl didn't realise, then she saw me staring at
> her and realised what I was staring at. She blushed and batted the
> front of her dress down. She was still about 10 feet away. She
> averted her look and quickened her pace so she was soon past me. I
> felt thin fabric in my hands again as I lifted the back of her dress,
> and I was able to keep it raised, watching her firm panty-clad
> buttocks bob up and down, until she disappeared from sight.
>
> Now I was convinced I had a paranormal talent. The seventh child of
> a seventh child thing came back to me. Suddenly something struck me
> that I hadn't noticed in all my years. My siblings were named in
> alphabetical order, beginning with 'A', 'B', 'C' and so on. As the
> seventh child, my name began with 'G', Grant. The names of my
> mother's siblings started with letters from 'B' to 'F', my mother's
> name being Gwen. What happened to 'A'? I resolved to ask my grandma
> next time I saw her. That was sooner than I expected, because she
> came to visit for a few days later that month. I waited until I was
> alone with her.
>
> "Grandma, have you had seven children?
>
> Grandma went white as a sheet. I thought she was going to faint.
>
> "Who told you? How did you find out?"
>
> "I didn't. I was wondering why none of my aunts or uncles had a name
> beginning with 'A'?"
>
> Grandma sat down, holding her head in her hands. Then she looked up
> at me.
>
> "Grant, I'll explain, but you must swear before God that you won't
> repeat any of this until after I'm dead?"
>
> "Yes Grandma, I swear."
>
> "It was during the war. We were near an army camp where soldiers
> were trained before being sent off abroad. Once a month there was a
> dance at the camp and all the local girls were invited. My parents
> warned me to be careful but one boy caught my eye and we got carried
> away. He was overseas, somewhere in Europe, when I found I was
> pregnant. I wanted to keep it but my parents wouldn't let me. Being
> an unmarried mother was very shameful in those days so my parents
> arranged a discrete holiday for me and it was taken care of, despite
> abortion being illegal in those days. It would have been a girl. I
> thought of her as 'Alice'."
>
> The next few months I practised in total secrecy. I practised
> masturbating until eventually my cock started generating overwhelming
> throbs of pleasure, and producing a few stringy drops of sticky white
> stuff emerged from the tip. I also practised my talent, which I
> called 'projection'. I found that it operated in straight lines. I
> didn't have to be able to see what I was manipulating, but
> experiments with groping for objects on the floor of the next room
> proved very unsatisfactory. Its limitations were pretty much in line
> with what I could do with my real arms and hands. One of my brothers
> was a jock so I got him to show me how to use his weights, and as my
> own body strength grew, so did the strength I was able to project.
>
> One day I was in town and I saw old Mrs Robbins walking her dog.
> Suddenly a youth ran up behind her and pushed her over, snatching her
> handbag. A couple of men started to give chase but the youth was fit
> and getting away. Almost without thinking I projected my foot and
> tripped him so he fell to the ground. Every time he motioned to get
> up, I kicked him in the face. The two men caught up with him and
> pinned him to the ground until the cops arrived. In an unexpected
> twist, the two men were arrested for causing bodily harm to the youth
> because the youth's face was a bloody mess. However the two men both
> corroborated each other's testimony that they hadn't assaulted the
> youth, and I gave a statement to that effect too, so the police were
> unable to prosecute. That taught me that I could use my talent for
> good, and that I could project other parts of my body besides my arms
> and hands.
>
> With these new discoveries and the improvement in my physique, I
> grew in self-confidence. Even my grades at school improved, despite
> missing a year. However my social standing didn't improve. Even girls
> from other schools steered clear of me and the name 'Melissa' kept
> cropping up. The girl seemed intent on poisoning the whole world
> against me.
>
> At school we were given the project of researching our ancestors,
> involving a presentation of the findings to the rest of the class. I
> was surprised to find that one of my ancestors had been hanged as a
> witch. Everyone has heard of The Salem Witch Trials, but witch trials
> occurred sporadically throughout the US. I made the mistake of
> mentioning this ancestor when I gave my presentation, and immediately
> people put two and two together and came up with Billy Jenkins. The
> Principal only aggravated matters when he addressed the school to
> pronounce that witchcraft didn't exist and Billy Jenkins had had an
> unfortunate accident.
>
> I continued to research my ancestors, widening my investigation back
> to England, from where my mother's family had originated. Information
> on the internet was scarce, but I found mention of a number of people
> burned at the stake for witchcraft from the right sort of area with
> surnames the same or similar to my mother's family. Perhaps
> supernatural powers ran in the family.
>
> As the summer holidays approached, my parents dropped a bombshell.
> Concerned that I didn't seem to have any friends, they were sending
> me away to camp to improve my social skills. At first I was horrified
> by the prospect, but then I warmed to the idea. I would be with a
> small group of boys and girls my own age and I would have a clean
> slate.
>
> The holidays came and my parents drove me to the camp. I was shown
> to the boys' hut and allocated a bed and everything seemed to be
> going ok. Then we were introduced to the girls and, my worst
> nightmare, Melissa was there. The camp counsellors made everyone
> introduce themselves to everyone else. My turn came with Melissa.
>
> "Hi Melissa," I greeted her warmly, hoping we could have a sort of
> truce.
>
> "Keep the fuck away from me, you psycho. You should be back in that
> loony bin where you can't hurt anyone. GIRLS, I have the misfortune
> to go to the same school as this psycho."
>
> The counsellors intervened immediately and talked to us separately.
> I explained about Billy Jenkins' 'accident' and my subsequent
> breakdown. Melissa's parents had gone abroad for a month, so sending
> her home was not an option. The counsellors persuaded her to offer a
> half-hearted apology, but I could see the hatred in her eyes as she
> made it.
>
> On the whole, the other kids didn't make my life too difficult.
> After Melissa's outburst I had no chance with the girls and when it
> came to picking partners for activities I was picked last and
> grudgingly, but at least my time at the camp would be bearable.
>
> The first night it was very hot and I couldn't get to sleep on the
> unfamiliar bed. Despite it being against camp regulations to leave
> the huts at night, I decided to go out for some fresh air. I wandered
> around for a while listening to the wildlife, then sometime later
> ended up near the girls' hut. The windows had shutters and they were
> closed, but I could see the dim light of the emergency lights
> escaping from a crack in one of them and I decided to risk a peek.
> The crack was narrow and I couldn't see much of the inside of the hut
> apart from one bed on the far side of the room. By an amazing stroke
> of coincidence, it was Melissa's.
>
> Because of the heat, Melissa was lying on top of the bed covers. Her
> nightie had ridden up to her hips, displaying her luscious thighs and
> pink panties. My cock forced a bulge in the front of my pants. I
> decided to risk projecting my fingers for a feel under her panties. I
> felt a few sparse hairs on her crotch, then, in the space between her
> legs, the all-important slit. Melissa's panties bulged and squirmed
> with the movement of my projected fingers.
>
> Melissa didn't stir so I got bolder. I started rubbing a finger
> along her slit, and as my pressure increased it slipped between her
> labia. I could feel her getting moist, as the sex ed manual said. I
> found her cunt and slipped a finger inside; it was hot and wet. I was
> getting really aroused and knew it wouldn't be long before my aching
> cock would spurt. If only I could put it inside Melissa. Suddenly I
> felt hot, moist flesh round the head of my cock and realised I had
> discovered another body part that I could project. I gently slid all
> the way in. It felt so good, the tight, hot tube fitting my cock like
> a glove. I pulled out most of the way and pushed back in, as it
> showed in the sex ed manual. I could see Melissa's tummy rise and
> fall in time with the invasion and withdrawal by my projected cock.
> Suddenly I couldn't contain myself any more and felt huge throbs of
> pleasure as I reached orgasm. This was infinitely better than rubbing
> myself.
>
> My projected cock went limp and slipped out of Melissa, and at the
> same time I felt my real cock go limp. Alarmed, I felt inside my
> pants expecting to find a sticky mess, but everything was fine, just
> a little moistness at the head of my cock. Consequence-free sex!
>
> Most nights after that I returned to the girl's hut and fucked
> Melissa by projection. Sometimes it was raining hard, once or twice I
> slept through after a day's exertions, but by the end of the holiday
> I must have fucked Melissa at least twenty times. I experimented. I
> learned how to postpone my orgasm to make the experience last longer.
> I learned that if I rubbed the hard little nodule between Melissa's
> labia in a certain way, I could make her throb with pleasure too. And
> finally I learnt to time things so that we both orgasmed at the same
> time. And all the time Melissa slept through it. However it must have
> affected Melissa to some extent because she became quiet and
> withdrawn, and not the socialite that she was at home. In a way, I
> was rather sad the holiday ended.
>
> Back at school, the other boys boasted about their summertime
> conquests.
>
> "I felt under Abigail's bra."
>
> "Connie held my cock."
>
> "I fucked my cousin Tabitha."
>
> However there was no way I could tell about projection fucking
> Melissa twenty times.
>
> It turned out my sex with Melissa wasn't consequence-free. After a
> couple of months she disappeared from school, and I had to piece the
> story together by overhearing snatches of conversation over several
> months. Melissa was pregnant. She denied having sex, and her
> boyfriend denied having sex with her. The dates suggested the camp
> but the counsellors explained the constant supervision, the sleeping
> arrangements and the night-time curfew and denied any responsibility.
> When Melissa had her baby son, her parents forced her by then ex-
> boyfriend, who had left her because of her obvious infidelity, to
> have a paternity test, and it proved he wasn't the father.
>
> I had a very good idea who the father was. My talent allowed me to
> excrete bodily fluids at a distance.
> <1st attachment end>
>
>
> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
> Notice: This post has been modified from its original
> format. The post was sent as an email attachment and
> has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
>
> --
> 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: <story-submit@asstr.org>|
> | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-admin@asstr.org> |
> +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
> |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr.org> |
> |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
> +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+