{ASSM/ASS} Doubts and Uncertainties -- A new story by Kim

[Ghost Ex Machina]

Sorry about the lack of story codes, I have no real idea how to code it, so I
guess you'll just have to read it and make your own mind up <smile>.

Usual blah blah warnings...

Love & Kisses

Kim

For my boyfriend and fiance, who more and more grants me the special privilege
of seeing the world afresh through another's eyes.

Doubts and Uncertainties
By Kim

He watched me sullenly with his piggy little eyes. I picked up the gasoline
can and started to splash its contents over the floor and walls, being careful
not to get any on myself. The smell of gasoline was already strong from the two
buckets of the stuff I had placed earlier in a corner of the shed. When the can
was empty I dropped it on the floor and circled round behind him. He was naked
and tied tightly, face down, over the workbench. I hefted his balls in my
hand and gave them a squeeze. He gasped and started up his blubbering again.

It was funny, I didn't remember him crying once during the ordeal he put
me through. It was me doing all the crying and pleading then. I gave them
another tug and a squeeze. He couldn't say a lot, I'd gagged him with his
own boxers. I'd rammed them in with the handle of an old paintbrush I'd
found in the shed when I first brought him here. Old abandoned farms, with
all their funny little buildings, make an ideal location if you want to
torture somebody in private.

It was chilly, I watched my breath as I exhaled. I could see the goosebumps
on his ass and he was shivering, both from fear and the cold. I pulled some
fine, high tensile steel chain and a padlock from my coat pocket. The guy at
the hardware store had been most helpful. I'd told him I wanted the finest, yet
strongest chain he had. When he asked me what it was for I told him I wanted
to chain up an animal, but I wanted it small as I didn't want to harm its coat.
He grinned and told me I shouldn't be so lenient, an animal wouldn't respect
you for it. I laughed and told him I was just too nice for my own good.

I secured the chain extremely tightly round the base of his balls and prick and
snapped it shut with the small padlock. I gave the chain a good tug. He
groaned and bucked a bit, but the chain showed no intention of coming off.

I doubled up a few of the links at the other end of the chain and slid a large
nail through them. Picking up a hammer I placed the nail close to his face on
the bench. At the first blow he jumped and tried to squirm away as I started
to hit the nail. Once it was started I used both hands on the hammer to
repeatedly pound it further into the bench. Tears were running down his
cheeks as I finally hit it home. He was lucky, I hadn't hit him once. I tossed
the hammer to the floor and tried to pull the chain. It felt solid. I wrapped it
round both my fists and gave it as hard a tug as I could. It didn't budge. I
smiled in triumph. So far so good.

I took a utility knife from my pocket and cut the rope binding him to the
bench. I hurriedly stepped away from him and stood in the doorway of the
shed. He slowly lifted himself from the bench and tottered upright. His
ankles were still tied together and his hands were still handcuffed.
He looked at me, a mixture of rage and humiliation in his face. I tossed
the utility knife to the ground by his feet. He squatted down precariously
and picked it up. He cut the rope round his feet and stood up. He was a
bit more confident now, nearly untied and holding a knife in his hand.

"I remember once seeing a program on PBS about the danger of fires.
Just how quickly they can spread. Maybe one, maybe two minutes to really
take hold, especially in an old timber shed like this one. And, oh my,
somebody's poured gas all over the place. Tsk Tsk, how remiss of them," I
said. He glowered at me. He grasped his boxers and pulled them out of his
mouth. As they came free he retched and brought his breakfast up.

"Hey, ya gotta watch those autonomic responses. Something sliding across
the back of your throat like that when ya don't want it to, sure can make ya
gag," I mocked. He spat on the floor and glared at me. He took three strides
towards me and stopped abruptly as the chain round his nuts brought him up
sharp. He squealed and staggered slightly. He caught hold of the chain
behind him and gave it a fierce tug, but it held firm.

"You fucking cunt bitch," he screamed at me. "I fucking took you once, you
fucking bitch, and I'll fucking do it again, you fucking cunt!"

"Charmed, I'm sure," I said. He started tugging on the chain again. I was
relieved to see it still showed no sign of coming apart.

"The keys to the handcuffs are on the front seat of your car, which is
outside," I told him. I held a box of matches up and rattled them. I ever so
slowly pulled a match out and held it dramatically next to the edge of the
box, ready to strike.

"Hmm, let's see, you're chained to the bench which is bolted to the floor --
oh, sorry, I'm all out of wrenches at the moment -- and the place will turn
into a raging inferno in about three minutes. Have I covered everything?" I
said.

"For Christ's sake, you crazy bitch, I can't cut my way though this chain in
three minutes," he wailed.

I shrugged. "Who said anything about cutting though the chain?" I asked.
The meaning of the words sank into his already troubled mind. He screamed
"No!" again and renewed his frantic tugging on the chain.

"I've left a pack of Kotex Super Maxi pads on the seat, next to the handcuff
keys. Hell, you may be lucky enough to make it to hospital before you bleed to
death. I hear they can sew most things back on if they're kept cool," I said as
I struck the match. I stepped out of the shed and lit the rest of the box of
matches. They flared up in a mini fireball. I tossed the burning box into the
shed without a second's hesitation. He screamed.

I looked at the words on the screen. I swallowed hard and felt distinctly
uncomfortable. Jesus, did I just write that? What the fuck was I thinking?
That's horrible. I moved the mouse to the delete menu and my finger
hovered over the button. Hmm, I thought, maybe I should ask Rob what he
thinks. I moved the mouse away.

I looked over to the other side of the room. Rob was reading a book and
listening to some classical music quietly. I like classical music, it's
soothing. It helps me to write. I've tried listening to Country music, but I
find I get too easily distracted and start listening to the words, getting
lost in the stories they tell. Not good for writing, but great for inspiration.

"Hey, bookworm, come over here a moment and read something more
interesting would ya?" I called. He looked up from his book and sighed.
Shaking his head, he closed up his book and came over to me, with all the
air of a saddened parent who has to point out yet another failing of a
wayward child.

"Quit grousing will ya, you know you like to read my stories. And make
sure I'm not telling the world too much about us," I chided. He took the
mouse and scrolled back to the top of the page and started reading. A
moment later he stood up idly rubbing his index finger over his chin.

"It's certainly different," he said, noncommittally. "So when did this
happen?" he asked.

"Didn't. I just made it up," I said. I looked up at him and saw he was
smiling in delight at me. I realized he was being sarcastic. I scowled that I'd
been had so easily. I suppose it was only fair, we were always teasing each
other as a matter of course.

"Why would you want to make up anything like that?" he said, quietly. I
shrugged, feeling myself blush slightly.

"Aw hell," I said, defensively. "It's just, well, there's been lots of talk about
nonconsensual stuff on the newsgroup lately," I said, hoping that would explain
everything.

He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "And... " he said.

"Shit, I don't know," I said, getting cross with myself, and with him, for
pointing out the obvious. Just how exactly did that justify the writing of wholly
unpleasant stories? I pouted and felt stupid.

"I'll get rid of it then," I said, moving the mouse to highlight it again and
delete it.

"Hold on, I didn't say that," he said, touching my shoulder. "What I meant
was, make sure you know the reasons why you write something, that's all.
Don't go giving it false stature with meaningless good intentions. If you
want to write about somebody being tortured and hurt, then do so. Just
don't pretend it's for any reason other than because you want to," he said. I
thought about his words. Did I "want" to write about torture? I couldn't be
sure. It seemed interesting, yet... what was I trying to say?

"It would be like me saying 'Get on your knees and suck me' just because
I'd seen it in a porno movie," he continued.

I slid off my computer stool and onto my knees in front of him. I reached
up and undid the zip of his pants. I pulled his shorts out of the way and
scooped his prick and balls out into the open. He smiled and looked down at
me.

"Say something nasty, Kim. Get me hard," he said.

I thought for a moment. "I want you to fuck my ass before I suck your dick,"
I said. His prick twitched and grew large and stiff before my face. I closed
my eyes and shivered.

I opened my eyes and looked across at Rob, still reading his book and listening
to classical music. I looked at him for many moments, admiring him from
afar. He was completely oblivious to both my observations of him and my
thoughts about him.

I looked back at the screen and silently contemplated the words again. Why
write about torture, why? I thought again. Writing stuff like that didn't help
anything. Nobody would be saved, nobody would have a change of heart.
All that would happen is that some of my fans would be appalled and stop
reading my stories. I absentmindedly swung my stool back and forth, biting
my bottom lip in indecision.

I saved the piece to disk and shut down the word processor, still unsure if I
should do anything with it. I checked for e-mails. Another three had arrived
in the last hour since I'd last checked. I sighed and got up without even
reading them; later, I thought. I wandered over to Rob and put my arms
over his shoulders from behind his chair. I kissed the back of his head and
rested my chin on him, looking over the top of his head at what he was
reading.

"How's it going?" he said, absently.

"Not good," I said, sadly. He looked up from his book, and twisted round
to look at me.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Oh this and that," I said.

"Tell me. Maybe I can help," he said.

"Doesn't matter, we already discussed it," I said.

"We did?... When?" he asked, puzzled. I'd forgotten it had all been in my
head.

"Oh, I'm sure we did... sometime," I said, offhandedly. "Hey, wanna fool
around again?" I said, trying to change the subject. He smiled.

"Maybe later, you crazy slut," he said, grinning. I smiled back. After a
moment's pause I spoke again.

"What do you really think about nonconsensual stuff, you know, rape,
torture, humiliation, that sort of thing?" I asked.

"What, in real life?" he asked.

"No, no, in sex stories, movies, books etc," I said. He pursed his lips and
thought a moment.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't turned on by some of it," he said.

"But it's terrible. Horrible. How can you say that?" I said, disapprovingly.

"Now, Kim, we both know how you feel about the girl-girl stuff, and how
you like it even more if it's dom and sub," he said. I blushed.

"That's different," I said, trying my best to sound convincing. I knew I
couldn't win the argument. Not feeling the way I did. I would always be the
hypocrite.

"Surely it's the same thing," he said.

"But I don't feel it's the same. I wouldn't like a woman torturing another
woman any more than I'd want a man torturing a woman. It's just...
obscene," I said. Rob remained quiet for a while, just looking at me. I felt
self-conscious and looked at the floor.

"Isn't humiliation a kind of torture?" he asked quietly. I looked at the floor
some more, swaying on one leg as I swung the other back and forth in a
little arc.

"Not if it's what they both want," I said, not looking up.

"Well, that's true. But how do you know that the victim didn't want to be
tortured?" he asked.

"That's ridiculous, who'd want to be tortured?" I said.

"Seems stupid to me, but how do you know?" he asked. I looked up to see
if he was being serious. He was smiling in his usual sardonic way. I couldn't
tell if he was serious or not.

"This is futile. It's not going anywhere, or helping me to rationalize this at
all," I said, suddenly cross with him. He shrugged.

"You're finally getting there, Kim. You're asking questions that have no
clear cut answers, or tidy explanations," he said. I gave him a sour look and
stomped off back to my computer. Big fat help he'd been, I grumbled to
myself.

I checked my e-mail. Another two. I looked at the backlog of unanswered
e-mails. It was getting on for two weeks now. I sighed. How could he be so
fucking rational about something so emotional? Didn't he feel it was wrong?
Surely stories about torture and killing were just plain wrong? They didn't
need explanations as to why.

I looked into ASSD to see if anything was happening. Some of the posts
were funny, some interesting, some obnoxious. I was feeling angry so I
picked on one of the obnoxious posts and fired off a flame at it. I felt
better, but five minutes later, when my post appeared on the newsgroup, I
immediately regretted it. Shit! I'd done it again. Said something dumb and
offensive to somebody who didn't really deserve it. I scowled at my
message. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I got up from the computer and went to annoy Rob some more. He was
reading his book again. I stood in front of him and started swaying and
dancing to some beat playing in my head. He looked up briefly then went
back to his book. I harumphed and pouted. I turned round so my back was
facing him and slowly bent down till I was bent double. I knew my skirt
would be molded tight to my ass and riding up my legs to reveal my thighs.
I looked back between my splayed legs. He'd put his book down and was
looking at me. He didn't make a move or say anything, just sat there looking
at me. I had to stand up again; all the blood rushing to my head had made
me feel dizzy.

"Did you like the view?" I said, swaying slightly. I wondered if he was in
the mood again yet. It had been nearly two hours since I last seduced him.
When we were both in the mood, we often indulged in a frantic fuck, with
little or no foreplay being neccessary. I was still sticky from it.

"Kim, it was wonderful, but I'm trying to read," he said, gently.

"Fine!" I said and stomped off to our bedroom. I threw myself on the bed,
frustrated and angry again. I wasn't really feeling horny, but I knew an
orgasm would have a good, calming effect on me. I tried to think horny
thoughts, as I stroked my nipples through my blouse and bra. All I could
think of was setting fire to a frightened, pathetic man. I scowled and rolled
over onto my front. I reached over to my bedside drawer and pulled out
one of my vibrators. It was the smaller one of the two. I switched it on and
reached back behind myself and slid it up and down my pussy, through my
pantyhose and panties.

The vibrations felt nice and comforting. I slowly raised and lowered my hips
thrusting back against my imaginary lover. A hand took the vibrator from
me and continued to rub me as I had started. I closed my eyes and smiled
and started licking my lips and sighing.

I felt my skirt pushed up and the top of my pantyhose being grabbed. A hand
tugged at them and swiftly pulled them clear of my ass and half-way down
my thighs. Hey, not so rough, I thought. The hand came back for my panties
and ripped them from my body. I yelped in surprise, they had been still stuck
to me from our recent lovemaking. The back of my head was grabbed and my face
was pushed into the bed as I was forcibly held down. The vibrator was pushed
between the cheeks of my ass and slid up and down between them. Having no
lubrication there, it was uncomfortable to say the least. The tip stopped
at the entrance to my ass and started to push inward. I groaned into the
bed as it entered me. I pushed my free hand under me and rubbed my slit.
I wasn't fully lubricating yet but I roughly pushed my middle finger into
my tender cunt anyway.

"Having fun?" Rob called out. He stood in the doorway watching me. I
pulled the vibrator and my finger out quickly and rolled over and tried to
be as nonchalant as possible.

"Yes, actually I was," I said haughtily. But I knew I'd been betrayed by my
blush. He laughed and came over and hugged me.

"Kimmy, you're crazy, but I do love you so. Tell you what, let's go get
something to eat and talk about your story. When we come back I might be in a
more responsive state to, erm, soothe your nerves," he said, grining. I readily
agreed, as I wriggled my panties back into place and pulled my pantyhose up and
smoothed them straight. I knew I smelled of recent sex, but I didn't care.

We walked to a nice local diner. Over the meal we talked about all the
ramifications of writing sex stories. Why I liked to do it, what it meant, how
serious it was, and how I might feel about it. I learned a lot and clarified a
lot of my thinking. And the food was good too. But in the end there were still
more questions than answers. I found myself beginning to think of what we might
do when we got home again, instead of such weighty matters.

I do love that man. If I hadn't sucked his dick so often, I'd swear he has
the brains of a woman.

I stepped out of the shed and lit the rest of the box of matches. They flared
up in a mini fireball. I tossed the burning box into the shed without a second's
hesitation. He screamed. I wondered if he'd have the courage to cut off his
own genitals. But then I had known all along that he wouldn't, fucking coward
that he was. He threw the knife down and huddled into a ball on the floor sobbing
uncontrollably, waiting for the fire to consume him. He whimpered and started to
piss himself. The flaming box of matches sailed in a lazy arc, as if in slow
motion, as it slowly tumbled end over end towards the puddles on the floor.

It landed with a splash, flared a few more times, then slowly fizzled out. It
had only been water that I had thrown about after all. I turned to look at the
man huddled and crying on the floor.

"Remember, asshole, everything we do in life we pay for in one way or
another. So remember that next time you want to abuse anybody," I told
him. I turned and left him there. I knew he'd eventually get free. I left the
Kotex in his car as a reminder to him of what might have been.

The End

There, not so much a story, more a meditation really <smile>.

I should also point out, being a responsible person an' all, that anal and oral
sex carried out back to back is probably not a very healthy thing to do (ya happy
now Bear? <grin>). Then again, neither is terrorizing somebody by threatening to
set fire to them <smile>.

I would like to thank The Bear for his help in the original proofreading and for
offering advice on the many grammatical and narrative failings. Thanks Bro.

Also, I must thank Kristen, Bronwen, Plainman, Mat, David L, Tom Bombadil, and my
new friend Blumenacht for valuable advice on the writing of this final version.

And a special thanks to Taria for, well, for being Taria and making me laugh, and
moan, so much <kiss!>.

Finally, it goes without saying that I don't condone real life abuse of anyone.

To read all my other stories, well most of them anyway, try my website, courtesy
of The Bear at http://www.io.com/~thebear/kimidx.htm and to e-mail me write to
Gh...@nym.alias.net

Permission for use of this story in a commercial site is categorically denied.

Kim
(C)January 98

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