Bethany's Troll

By XerXes Xu

Bethany has cultivated an intimate fantasy since puberty, but when she starts a new job as a teaching assistant, her indistinct, fantasy partner, a raging troll, starts to take on some of the characteristics the new schoolmaster. Mr Hunter is "old school" in his appearance and methods, divorced, and has worked abroad for many years. His old fashioned methods lead to schoolgirl gossip that he indulges in old fashioned practices. Bethany's work deteriorates because of her distraction with titillating thoughts about Mr Hunter. Her distraction is noted, and the Human Resources and Welfare Committee steps in. She is given advice, but the committee also sees a way to kill two birds with one stone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: XerXes Xu
• Release date: Nov 14, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466102613

XerXes Xu

Remember Mutually Assured Destruction? At age five,when the four minute warning sounded, my teachers took twenty minutes to evacuate the class to the nuclear bomb shelter. That troubled me. The next time the siren cranked up, I left the classroom and ran. When the four minutes were up I was sitting alone in the shelter. I’d let everybody down, I was a disgrace, a very naughty boy. Yes, I was naughty, but I was no fool. Did I need to be a fool to be good? I wondered. After that early lesson in self-sufficieny I plowed a lonely furrow, as the one who would break ranks and question rules. Along the way I’ve accrued a wife, two children, two degrees, lots of experience, very little money – but a triple A credit rating, because I always pay my way. I’ve travelled with a backpack, run two businesses, practised in the law courts, worked in a lunatic asylum and laboured in construction. Seventy years on I’m running out of ranks to break and rules to question, so I have to make them up. At five, I couldn’t make my case. My stories are a late comeback, picking at the foundations of of the big rules, the moral foundations, and exploring what might result when they fall. As a child I read voraciously – everything. At fifteen every new novel I picked up was "stale", by the end of the first page I had that feeling of "deja lu", so, with nothing "fresh" to read, I gave up. Now, I understand there is only one story, the struggle between my version of good and your version of good, maybe His version of good - the battle of moral perspectives - of moral relativity. There are no white hats or black hats, all hats are grey, and by a moral illusion look white against a black background and black against a white background. When the background changes, the colour of the hat changes. Now that I want to tell stories myself, I try to dress them in new clothes, but set them in reality, untanted and uninfluenced by the last fifty years of literary fashion, in the hope of achieving that elusive quality - “freshness.” As death impends I write furiously in the hope that, if I hurry, I may finish two or three more “fresh” stories before I’m timed out.

Book preview

Bethany’s Troll

By

XerXes Xu

© Copyright XerXes Xu 2011

Published by Strictly4Play Productions at Smashwords.

Third Edition: 11th March 2012.

ISBN: 978-1-4661-0261-3

This short story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental and unintended.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter 1.

Frenzied Masturbation.

Bethany loved to masturbate.

The day had been filled with coursing hormones and turbulent emotions that could only be stilled by an intense orgasm.

She had not pleasured herself for five hours and needed her fix. The hurried jill in the comfort room at lunchtime was a snack; it always was when she masturbated alone. Now she needed a three-course meal, and that required an audience.

Raising her skirt up round her waist, she dropped into the occasional chair on her fifth floor balcony. She slid her knickers down her long brown legs, which she parted and rested over the chairs arms. Several tower blocks overlooked hers and she hoped to attract voyeurs. The fresh eddies of the evening breeze tickled her thighs; she pretended to read a book, but looked over it to scan the neighbouring buildings for peering faces.

Putting down the book she pressed fore and index fingers against her chubby shaven pudenda and began to rotate slowly, squashing her labia up then ever so slightly parting them in turn. Next, she took her labia and stretched and twisted them, then pulled her pussy wide open, hoping this provided a satisfying visual effect for her audience.

It was time to invoke him. She had only to close her eyes and reach between her legs; but once her eyes closed, he took control and she braced herself to receive him.

Now he would be in command, he would order, she must obey.

She screwed her eyes tight, arched her back, pressed her fingers to her tumescent clitoris and prepared for the onslaught.

He loomed over her, huge, faced creased into ugliness by lust, bulging eyes, throbbing temples, rippling muscles, convulsed with desire. In his right hand, he nursed his huge penis, the size of her forearm, squeezing and pulling, exposing a taut and glistening bell-end four inches across.

MAKE ME COME, MASTURBATE, READY YOURSELF FOR THIS, I’LL STICK IT IN YOU AND SPLIT YOU APART IF YOU DON’T MAKE ME COME.

Her vagina responded with a flush of slippery secretions; her fingers began to glide effortlessly.

FASTER, FASTER.

She bit her lip and rubbed like a mad women causing her bristling clitoris to radiate visceral sensations.

OPEN UP, OPEN YOUR CUNT. I WANT TO SEE YOUR CUNT.

She gripped her labia and pulled.

WIDER, MUCH WIDER.

She inserted fingers and hooked wide.

PUT TWO FINGERS IN.

She began to plunge in and out with two fingers.

ANNOY YOU CLITORIS.

With her other forefinger she began to jill frantically.

MORE FINGERS, MORE.

Bending forward and splaying her left leg, she managed to stuff in four.

"NOT GOOD ENOUGH, I’M GOING TO SPLIT