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From: Francis Dashwood <an18615@anon.nymserver.com>
Subject: Lauren Gisal Book 1 (1/39 ff/mf/Ff/Mf,inc,cons,nc)
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Lauren Gisal
****Warning - Disclaimer for your protection ****
The following fiction portrays events that will be considered offensive
by some people in that graphic scenes are described of sexual
intercourse by teenagers, adults, with and without their consent.
Later chapters deal with punishment. If you are offended by such
material then read no further and delete this file. You will note that
by way of the plot and characterisation that there is no intent to
condone or encourage similar behaviour. Indeed, it is clear that the
story serves as a warning.
The author hereby permits the redistribution of the attached material
on the understanding that it is not for financial gain and it is
credited to the author, Francis Dashwood.
Lauren Gisal
Chapter 1
Thursday 9th July
Lauren watched the convoy of coaches winding their way from the
lush green valley a few hundred meters below. They slowly snaked
and shuddered up towards the mountain pass, bound for Italy and the
crystal clear lakes beyond. She envied the tourists their freedom and
opportunity to explore beyond the closeted environment of the
picturesque alpine valleys. Recently, her own yearning for discovery
had driven her to feign sickness. She had walked one glorious
summer day up through the dark, steeply sloping forest to emerge
again into the shimmering heat of the late morning and there, lazing
on the deserted mountainside, she had gazed down at the people in
their tiny villages below. The weather had been perfect, the sun
shining brilliantly in a cloudless blue sky, reflecting off the snowy
mountain peaks, with just a hint of a breeze that cooled her tanned
face and rippled the soft down of her arms.
Andleburg, the village where her grandmother had settled forty years
earlier, was a few kilometers from Interlaken. It possessed an air of
bygone tranquillity coupled with stunning views of the Jungfrau and
the majestic mountain range beyond. But occasionally, more so
recently, she had felt cramped and concerned that while time marched
on in the world at large, it passed over Andleburg with abandon,
choosing to concentrate on a more receptive audience in the larger
towns.
Lauren was not one of the village's prettiest girls, but her features
were distinctive, characterised by her boyish face, deeply set brown
eyes and strong nose. It was a face, she thought, that people would
find pleasant rather than beautiful, that people would be happy to kiss
as a duty rather than as a source of pleasure. Her skin was perfect and
unblemished from the childhood ravages of chicken pox or measles.
Her wavy brown hair normally fell to her shoulders, but was
constrained presently by an elastic band (the height of fashion, she
thought to herself) and tied back.
A sharp crack brought her out of her reverie, as Lauren realised that
some optimistic team-mate had passed the ball to her.
"Lauren Gisal, for goodness sake run with the ball, look around you!"
shouted the games-mistress, umpire and part-time sadist Miss
Connely, in her Irish-accented Swiss-German.
She was a petite woman who in Lauren's estimation was about
twenty-five. She looked like as though her body had given up adding
inches to her stature during her mid-teens to concentrate on providing
a mane of straight dark hair that hung down to her waist, tied back in
a similar manner to Lauren's at the nape of the neck. Miss Connely
wore a tracksuit making it difficult to judge her physical build,
although the tracksuit looked only partially filled. Lauren
remembered that she had seen her undressing in the staff changing
area a couple of weeks ago and had remarked to Nikki at the time
that she could have passed for one of the senior girls.
"I don't think so" Nikki had said, "she looks like a virgin". Lauren
smiled at the conversation, looked up towards the goal and hit the
ball resoundingly. She was surprised to see it scythe through the grass
at great speed, and moreover, in the direction that she had wanted.
The flow of adrenaline and the rush of expectation subsided as
quickly as it had begun, as the opposing goalkeeper gathered the ball
safely just to the side of the net.
She counted herself among the more fortunate of her contemporaries.
She had a family who had few financial worries, she had a brother
(Lauren saw Mike only when he returned from boarding school), she
had a very comfortable house and now had found a wonderful friend
in Nikki Brugen. Although Lauren had lived in Andleburg all of her
life, Nikki had arrived only a couple of years ago due to her family's
relocation - her father managed one of the largest hotels in the area. It
had taken only a few weeks for Lauren and Nikki to become the
staunchest of allies, confiding in secrets and personal tittle-tattle that
is usually reserved for one's inner-most thoughts. Nikki was a never-
ending source of knowledge (on occasions inaccurate but always
entertaining) which came from eavesdropping in the hotel. Lauren's
father, who worked for a government research department, rarely
overheard gossip or conversation that was interesting, unless of
course import quotas could be considered suitable material for the
exchange of whispered wisdom.
Lauren determined that she had spent the past thirty minutes walking,
trotting and running around the rectangle of grass to little advantage,
the ache in her limbs testament to her exertion. There was a hint of
shape in her long brown legs, accentuated by her red socks at half-
mast and her dark blue games shorts. Recent months had replaced her
gangly features with a recognisable feminine form. Some of the girls
said that the exercise would help to give them beautiful legs in later
life, but Lauren was a firmer believer in destiny and fate being
responsible for shaping her legs and every other event in her life. The
final whistle sounded, and so she spun on her heel and headed for the
changing rooms, noting that Nikki's game must have ended earlier as
her pitch was now empty.
As she trudged past the goal post, she looked across the fence of the
field and down again into the valley. She could see pollen and seeds
flying into the summer air as Mr. Hubert, who owned the Chemist
shop in town, cut a plot of very tall grass in his back garden. Mixed
in with the grass were buttercups, daisies and edelweiss, and the
scent wafting up to the school was rich and comforting. In contrast,
Lauren thought, to Mr. Hubert's one and only little girl, Claudette,
who was in the same class as Lauren and had recently become a
thorn in her side. The animosity had started, as far as Lauren could
recall, in this spot, the hockey pitch, when Lauren had accidentally
swiped Claudette across the shins with her stick. In revenge,
Claudette had struck Lauren on the back of her legs while Miss
Connely was repeating commands for the linguistically
disadvantaged. That was a week ago today, and they had not spoken
since.
Despite Lauren's lack of exertion, she was hot and sweaty from the
afternoon's exercise and small beads of perspiration clung to her
forehead. She looked forward to the end of term, only ten days away,
when she wouldn't have to run up and down in the heat, and could
lay by the hotel pool with Nikki - assuming that Nikki's father didn't
object to them occupying "marketable real-estate in premium season"
as he called the few square feet they needed. Lauren entered the main
changing area for the school and turned into the girl's section. At the
far end of the changing rooms she could see Miss Connely standing
already by the entrance to the showers, waiting to catch some poor
girl who tried to leave without showering. Noise echoed around the
room as girls shouted, lockers slammed and the showers hissed.
The rows of benches were arranged three on each side of the central
aisle leading to the showers and could accommodate about one
hundred girls. Presently, there were fewer than fifty, all in various
states of undress. Lauren recalled how painful it was during the
winter, after the freezing temperatures outside to undo her buttons
and pull off the heavy hockey shirts. Today there was no such
problem as she sat down on the bench seat to remove her boots. She
knocked the mud off them and walked over to her locker to retrieve
her white towel and clothes. A pair of her classmates skipped past her
on their way to the shower, their cute bottoms showing a hint of
shape.
She returned to the bench and pulled down her socks, discarding
them by her side. Despite the cacophony of shouting and giggling,
Lauren returned to her reverie, remembering her fascination almost a
year ago when she discovered two or three minute hairs growing
above her vagina. She had wondered how long they had been there
and that night had taken a long look at herself in the mirror in her
parent's bedroom, striking a number of poses in a similar fashion to
those she had seen on the Miss World contest. Returning to bed, her
hands had explored every potential source of interest, finding
conclusive evidence that her breasts were starting to form. She had
pulled her nipples and discovered that they did indeed get hard and
elongated, just as she had hoped they would.
Lauren stood up and saw the steam billowing through the doorway of
the showers. Ms Connely looked at each of the girls as they made
their way to and from the shower stalls, trying to be the model of
supervision and discretion. With a thumb either side, Lauren pulled
her shorts down past her knees, bringing each leg up in turn to allow
them to drop to the floor. She took hold of her shirt and pulling
upwards, removed it in one swift movement to reveal her small
breasts. She liked her breasts. In fact, she was very proud of them
even though she had nothing to do with their shape, size or
circumference. In her opinion, they were classically shaped, and
much nicer to look at than the girls she seen in her brother's
magazines. She hung the shirt on the hook above her head, and
quickly pulled down her knickers. Lauren now had a thin layer of hair
growing above her vagina, which scarcely concealed the lips of her
vulva. Then came the walk she detested - past Ms Connely on the
way to the showers and the feeling of her eyes taking in her shape
and mentally comparing her to the other girls. The return journey, for
some obscure reason didn't matter; she could look at her bum all she
wanted.
Lauren took her towel and strategically moved it as she walked down
the aisle. Few of the other girls looked at her, although Lauren
glanced at Annika sitting naked on the end of the final row. She noted
that she had large breasts, much larger that Lauren's, and a thick mat
of black hair between her parted legs. Annika's head leaned to one
side as she dried her hair and talked to her neighbour, Claudette.
Lauren quickly averted her gaze, deposited her towel on a hook
outside the showers, and entered carefully.
The square shower room was completely white, tiled from floor to
ceiling in a utilitarian manner and must have been about twenty five
feet long. It was much warmer than the general changing room area,
and had a smell that reminded her of wash days when she was a
child. A small three foot high wall ran along the centre of the room
with the exception of about two feet either end to allow all-round
access. Lauren took a bar of soap and moved under a vacant shower.
Two of the girls were shrieking in the corner of the room as they tried
to rub soap into each other's hair. Lauren smiled, and peering through
the steam recognised Ruth and Alysia who had become very good
friends in recent months. Ruth deftly moved to position herself behind
Alysia with her arms around her waist, and rubbed a soapy hand
across her face. Alysia screamed with delight as they fought.
As Lauren watched, she realised that the whole class was growing up
quickly, including herself, making the transition from childhood into
womanhood. Whereas a year ago there were only a handful of girls
who showed signs of development, all the girls in her class were now
blossoming. The two girls continued to laugh and fool around. Lauren
noticed that they both had pendulous breasts that swayed and
bounced as they frolicked in the spray. As she continued to stare, she
realised that she had been watching Ruth's hands roaming over her
friend's breasts. She was unsure whether the girls were aware of
being watched, but Lauren was slowly coming to the conclusion that
while their movements would have been considered horseplay a year
ago, it could only be described as mild petting now.
Lauren turned quickly towards the wall as a million thoughts raced
through her mind. She lathered up her hands and soaped herself under
her arms, then reached up high to the shower head and to allow the
water to rinse her off. Glancing at the two in the corner again for an
instant, Lauren caught a glimpse of a hand between Ruth's legs
moving quickly backwards and forwards. Ruth had closed her eyes
and held firmly onto the wall. Unable to contain her curiosity, Lauren
turned her back to the shower, and ran the bar of soap across her legs
while surreptitiously watching the action in the corner, convinced by
now that the mystery hand between Ruth's legs belonged to Alysia.
The clouds of steam lent a surreal backdrop to the performance, as
the girl's activities drifted in and out of focus while the showers
hissed. As the water rinsed Lauren's legs, she took the bar of soap
and let it lazily slide over the contours of her breasts. Unconsciously,
she paid special attention to her nipples, running the corner of the bar
of soap around them in small, firm circles. Her nipples responded,
hardening and crowning her delicate breasts.
Alysia's hand was moving more rapidly now, and Ruth gripped the
shower head for support, giving her breasts a classic shape and
preventing them from swinging so violently. The steam momentarily
parted and gave Lauren a startling view of a number of soapy fingers
flashing in and out of Alysia's vagina. As the picture faded back into
steam, she saw Ruth's mouth slowly open and heard a low moan
from the corner as though she had been hit in the stomach. As
Lauren's young mind analysed the information she had gathered,
another part of her was more concerned with mimicking the action
she had observed, and her hand had now found it's way from her
breasts to between her own legs which were parted further than
necessary for standing up in the shower. Again, she used the corner
of the soap to massage her vagina, while her thumb trailed behind
adding further assistance, the whole action causing her to lean
forward slightly. The outer lips of her vulva soon parted and bubbles
of soap ran along the delightful virgin skin.
With the middle finger of her right hand, she ran over her wispy pubic
hair and down along the length of her slit, exploring and probing as
her clitoris became enlarged and stood to attention. Lauren felt
bubbling activity inside her stomach and slightly light-headed. With
unconscious abandon, her middle finger slipped into her tight little
hole up to the second knuckle while the palm of her hand rubbed over
her clit. Slowly, she extracted the finger and marveled in the pleasure
that emanated from within her pussy. While she had experimented
before to this degree there was something intangible this afternoon
that added an extra dimension of intensity. As her actions became
more confident, her pussy lips fought to retain their hold on her finger
each time she pulled it out, giving up their little prisoner with
increasing reluctance. Her anus joined in the celebration, squeezing
tightly in a seemingly random manner.
"Clean enough down there for you, is it Lauren?" said Anke as she
moved under the adjoining shower.
"What? Oh, er, really hot games today" said Lauren, fumbling with
the soap.
"Yeah, I caught the tail end of their act too. Not the first time you
know" she said with an air of confidentiality.
"Oh, I wasn't watching, just dreaming".
"Whatever" said Anke, grabbing a bar of soap as she turned her back
to Lauren.
Regaining some of her composure she left the showers, took her
towel from the hook, and skirted around the ever-watchful Miss
Connely. She was aware of an unusually warm glow between her
legs, and determined that as soon as she had the chance, she would
play with herself and a bar of soap again.
She returned to the bench and stood with her right leg on the seat,
toweling herself as she replayed the action in her mind. Only as she
dried between her legs did she realise that she was still very aroused,
and immediately brought her leg back to the floor to preserve her
modesty. Confused, Lauren reached for her white knickers in the pile
of clothes and quickly stepped into them and pulled them up. It
sounded like Ruth and Alysia were still fooling around as a cheer
went up from the shower area. Lauren remembered that she had
promised to invite Nikki for tea at her house, so she hurriedly slipped
her blouse on and did the buttons up. She checked the waistband of
her knickers to ensure she had not put them on the wrong way round,
and sat down on the edge of the bench to pull on her white socks. She
stuffed her bra into her skirt pocket and pulled her skirt up, zipping it
at the side. Finally, she jumped into her shoes, grabbed her towel and
school bag, and flew out the door.
Turning left into the main corridor she breathed in the fresh, cool air.
Lauren pulled off the elastic band holding her hair and let the brown
locks fall over her shoulders. She took a hairbrush from her bag and
quickly ran it through her hair giving it some semblance of order even
though the ends were still wet. Her pleasure from the anticipated
meeting was evident as she jumped over a small wall surrounding a
formal flower bed. As she landed, she again thought that she must
have dressed upside down or inside out or something, but decided it
could wait until later.
End of Chapter 1
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