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Hearthrob
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information.
From: [email protected] (Mark R. Rabne)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: Heartthrobs 1
Darkness had fallen over their path
since sundown and he was relying on night
vision gear for their navigation. She was
falling a little further back now, so he
urged her on, reminding her to breath more
air than she really needed. She still has
not gotten the hang of running with a
breathing pattern, he thought.
He rounded the guardpost and spotted
only three non-rates on duty. Perfect for
getting past. They didn't know what time
it was, let alone who was on their post.
With the silence of a feline, they stalked
across the dark, open path and into the woods
on the other side. They continued apace with
adreneline flowing in their veins. She was
now lost, but he fully expected that, since
she had no map-reading experience or land
nav training.
Up ahead, he saw Tower Seven and it's rapidly
blinking aviation lights. It stood a staggering
1400 feet tall and they would be at the top in
less than thirty minutes.
She pulled at his arm and begged a two minute
rest. He capitulated and then offered her one.
She was carrying only half what he was in weight,
but it still totalled over fifty pounds. She
took a sip from her spare canteen in her cargo
pocket. She'd emptied the two clipped on her
warbelt because of the hot night air. She drank
greedily after a moment, trying to quench the
thirst within. Her lips relished the wetness.
They approached the tower from the south
where it wasn't the darkest, but adequately so.
He clipped the chain links in rapid succession
She pulled open the slack and slid under, then he
did the same, pulling the fence back into place.
At the tower base, she reloaded her pack and
grounded her warbelt and weaponry. He grounded
his night goggles and surveilance gear, but kept
his nine mil.
Above the first junction, at about 350 feet,
she lost her footing on the dewy footholds. She
followed her training and jutted her arms out to
catch herself. Her triceps caught most of the brunt.
They recovered and pressed all the way to the top.
Their hearts pounded with intensity and their palms
were wry with cuts. They felt nothing but animal
passion.
She tied-off her pack at the transmitter level.
He tied off next to her and began to strip. She
joined him and they were clothless in minutes. The
boots and pants were only a challenge they cherished.
They'd prepared this in the woods for hours, but
now it was real and they were at risk. And the night
was perfect. They could see the lights of Los Angeles
to the North and San Diego to the south. They had
all they needed for the night. Pendleton was home.
With rythmic perfection, they unloaded their packs
in a reverse-preload maneuver and deressed one another.
She put the black half-shirt and spikes on his upper body
Then she put the leather chaps on his legs and refitted
his boots for him.
With polished routine, he tied her hands together and
kept her balanced. Then, above his head across the center
of the traingle shaped tower, he tied an 800 pound test rope.
He raised her up in position and cuffed by the wrists to
the rope and she dangled off into a world of trust.
She hung for a few moments taking in the humid
night air. He reached above himself and got a beaner
and some other clamps and a harness. He seated himself
in the harness, clipped a rope to the beaner, and snugged
the beaner around the supports one level above them.
The sweat was already running down her belly and
he was pumped as well. They knew this was the moment.
He grabbed a cat from his pack and fitted it firmly
into one hand. With the other hand, he gripped the
rope supporting him and pushed off on a tangent.
With lightning accuracy, he snapped the cat at her
buttocks. She could not anticipate the next strike
because of the wind whistling in her ears. He was
everywhere at once and she was the owner of a throbbing
clit. She ached for release. Just the act of breaking
security and making the climb had gotten her excited
beyond belief.
He kept her under ferocious attack, never really
letting her alone. She started her instinctive whimpers
as he stopped being easy on her. Then he let loose
with more of the power in his shoulder and forearm and
she yelped loudly.
He stopped spinning long enough to grab eight ammo
clips and her made them one with her nipples. She
screamed in delight louder until all four were on each
nipple. She was now a near constant erotic voice in the
sky. But he had other plans.
He pushed-off daringly again and resumed his catting.
She got the groin, belly, and tits this time. She needed
him to continue more than she needed him to stop, but
just barely so. She was living out a fantasy for him and
she was not going to spoil it.
Then, from the ground, their faces lit and she heard
voices from a bullhorn urging motionlessness. Their eyes
met and he gave her a look of reassurance. She felt nothing
but doubt. The Base Commanding General would not be pleased
to hear of this. Not his daughter and that damn Marine again.
Sounds of hammering steel radiated from the ground
then seconds later, the rattling started. They were being
pursued and were trapped in an embarassing situation. Faster
and faster came the footsteps and the distance closed. She
looked at him again as if to beg he cover her. He looked
down trying not to give any sign of emotion.
"You still got that privacy problem, Devil Dog?" came the
first of a series of snarling questions. She looked at him
and he grinned. She felt foolish when she remembered he
knew everyone on duty at Post Seven.
"Yeah, and fuck you, anyway. I almost got her off before
you guys spotted us", he grinned. "Wanna watch the rest?"
Before the begging could start, she realized that it was
all planned this way and she was going to be a source of
their pleasure anyway. She settled down to enjoy it.
"Whip me some more, you bastard!" she invited he and the
rest. "I need it bad".
And with that, he pulled out two more cats and called
down to his buddies for a hand. They did her in style and
you could hear the screams for miles as she came.
It's good to be the general's daughter, she thought.
mark
--
A peaceful place or so it looks from Space Jerry, Brent, Mickey,
A closer look reveals the Human race Bill, Bob and Phil
Full of hope, full of grace is the Human face, are
But afraid we will lay our Home to waste... The Grateful Dead!
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing missing parts, archive
locations, ftp sites, gif sites, and subscription requests. These stories get
deleted immediately after they are posted. For more info on the ARCHIVE
postings, read the FAQ posted bi-monthly to a.s.s.d
Subject: ARCHIVE: heartthrobs-2.Z
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information.
From: [email protected] (Mark R. Rabne)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: heartthrobs 2
She was almost out of air in her reserve tank as
they broke up through the surf onto his private
island. The brilliant sky invited them to have
their way with one another alone, undisturbed.
They walked ashore and slipped out of their
gear. It was her first time on the island, but
certainly not his. He'd given lots of his nest-
egg for this place. And the scene was ready to
start.
He brought only a diver's shovel along and in
a moment, he'd found the place he had left the
night before. He dug into the recently overturned
sand and uncovered his buried toychest.
He pulled it up onto the beach and popped the cover.
The first thing he did was unroll the blindfold and
snug it roughly over her eyes.
"Sit down and stay still," he ordered.
He then pulled out a carrying strap, closed the chest,
and heaved it onto his back. He looked at her. She had
excitment on her face. She was an old hand at accepting
her pain and she loved it intensely. He felt she was
about to meet her match.
He pulled her up to her feet and told her to follow the
sound of his footsteps. On a path across the island they
started. The walk took only a few moments and they arrived
at the other side.
He glanced knowingly out about 80 feet and saw the rack
just as he'd left it. After dropping the chest and pulling
out the waterproof knapsack inside, he led her toward the
breaking surf. They walked out into the warm tropical waves
and she let out a sigh of pleasure.
When they reached the rack, he told her to brace herself.
He slung the knapsack over his shoulder, gripped the six-by-six
with his forearms and pulled upwards. It nearly looked like a
cross, this rack, but there were places for both her arms and
her legs to be spread. But she couldn't see.
It was about an hour from high tide this evening and the
sun was lazily burning aboout two hours from it's setting.
The temperature and breeze filled him with excitment. Things
were even better than he'd expected.
He stood on the bottom crossbar, pulled out the ropes he
needed, and called to her to listen. He instructed her to
catch the shank that he threw down and to tie it snuggly
around her waist. She did so and he pulled her up with only
a little effort.
He faced her to the sea and bound her ankles and wrists
so her arms were parallel to the cresting waves below. The
peak of the whitecaps was merely six or eight inches below
her now pulsing womanhood. She heard him making more sounds.
He had two four foot streamers and one three foot streamer.
They were made up of colored strands of material and each set
had a clip-on ring at one end. He was relishing the next few
moments.
"This may take getting used to, so feel free to yell", he
said. He clipped the two longer streamers to her nipple rings.
The piercing was nearly five years old, and she'd had lots of
torture before. He held the streamer ends in his hands and
touched her forehead. Then he dropped the ends and they quickly
rushed behind her toward the shore.
"Nnnn-- nnnggggggg!!!" she moaned aloud as the first wave
passed and tugged at her tit-rings. "Oh-ohhhhhh", she pleaded
aloud for him to understand. It was her usual way of telling her
that she couldn't be pushed too far.
Then, he clipped the shorter streamer to her labia ring and
let it go. "Damn. DAMN. DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN!! " she screeched
as the next half-dozen waves cycled past.
"Are you feeling a little challenged?" he whispered hotly into
her ear. The sweat on her forehead was more than enough of an
answer. He slipped off her blindfold to let her watch the sunset
as the tide came in. She was afire and the arousal was building
inside.
The tugging pain came in rolling twinges lasting about seven
seconds each. It was intense as she felt a nerve-splitting pain
in her cunt and both nipples at the same instant. She wondered
if she might pass out.
Tides being as they are, the sea continued to rise under her,
eventually splashing warm sea water on her inner thighs. The slight
trickle of blood normally would have only been a side affect of
reaching her plateau, but the salt brought her flashes of intensity
before unknown.
The sun sank in the reddenning sky and the waves came above her
hips occasionally splashing her bosom. The screams she'd been so
intently expelling had now died to whimpers as she felt her voice
going. The mix was there. Pleasure was nearly overtaking pain.
Her head was unconsciously beating the hardwood behind her
as she counted the minutes to release. The viscious pain and
the delightful pleasure. The tugging. The stinging. The burning.
She was already short of breath from anticipating the next
crest to smack her breasts carelessly. The three rings were
her enemies, her friends, her lovers. She was going numb in
her upper body and her legs were cramping.
It overtook her. She shuddered violently and he was there
with his mouth over hers. He wrapped her jaw in his palms
and held her through the most exquisite climax she could recall.
mark
--
A peaceful place or so it looks from Space Jerry, Brent, Mickey,
A closer look reveals the Human Race Bill, Bob and Phil
Full of Hope, full of Grace is the Human Face, are
But afraid we will lay Our Home to waste... The Grateful Dead!
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing missing parts, archive
locations, ftp sites, gif sites, and subscription requests. These stories get
deleted immediately after they are posted. For more info on the ARCHIVE
postings, read the FAQ posted bi-monthly to a.s.s.d
DISCLAIMER: I did not write this story, nor do I condone its actions.
These files were archived several months ago, it is now time to kill
the archive, I am posting and then deleting these files. requests
for reposting will be ignored. - These stories belong to whomever they
belong to. enjoy!
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