Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/H/HOTNSOUR.TXT

Text File | 1994-07-04 | 16.9 KB | 328 lines

                       Hot And Sour Soup
                       by  Kneeling Icon
                 ([e-mail])


Hot and Sour Soup

2 quarts    beef stock, chilled, with fat removed
4 or 5      dried black mushrooms
1 ounce     dried black fungus
4-5 ounces  pork or chicken, cut into long thin slices
1 can       slivered bamboo shoots, rinsed thoroughly
1           green onion
1           egg
1 cup       rice vinegar (ordinary white vinegar will do)
1 tsp       crushed red pepper
1 tsp       ground white pepper
1 tsp       black pepper
1 Tbsp      corn starch, tapioca starch, or arrowroot starch
1/2 cup     soy sauce
several slices of peeled ginger

Susan stood before the stove, staring at the card with her favorite
recipe for Hot and Sour soup on it.  Her concentration wavered as she
read the card; she had made this dish so many times that she didn't
know exactly why she had written down the recipe in the fist place.
It hadn't come from any cook book, but rather had been distilled from
several, and from her own experiences, until it was the one which
represented the best way she knew how to make the soup.  She had given
it to countless people upon request.

        Place mushrooms and fungus in a shallow bowl, and cover with
        cold water.  Set aside.  Slice chicken or pork with the grain
        into strips about 1/4 inch wide and 1 1/2 - 2 inches long.
        Place in bowl with ginger slices, marinate with soy sauce.
        Cut greens from onion and set aside.  Mince onion whites and
        mix with marinating meat.

Susan started going through the motions mechanically, preparing the
ingredients to follow the recipe.  Her hands did the work while her
mind wandered in it daze.  She wondered if she'd ever see Mark again
after last night.

She usually waited a few weeks before introducing new boyfriends to her
toys, but Mark had made an offhand comment that had started her head
spinning.  They had been watching _Misery_, where the world-famous
celebrity gets restrained and then tortured by a crazed fan.  mark had
commented sarcastically that it embodied two of his fantasies: the
first to be stuck in a house with a psychotic fat woman, and the
second to be tied up and beaten.

Even if he *had* been joking, he had said he wanted to be tied up.
Susan's heart had almost leapt from her breast as she had playfully
bitten his arm and volunteered to tie him to her bed.  She remembered
how Mark had thought *she* was joking, and had called her bluff.
"You're too sweet and innocent for that game," he had said.  Susan
recalled the patronized smile she returned while she had imagined what
a surprise she would inflict on him.

A sharp pain in her hands brought Susan's attention back to the
present.  She looked down at the index finger of her left hand, which
was bleeding onto the soft white chunks of onion.  An interesting
contrast was presented to her: the pale flesh of her skin under the
small rivulet of dark red blood, next to the almost clear white of the
onion.  All of this was set on a backdrop of shiny stainless steel
from the knife and the alternating strips of dark- and light-brown wood
butcher block.  The acid from the onion stung the cut more than the knife
wound did.  She cursed under her breath and scooped the stained
vegetable into the garbage disposal.  One small piece of now-pink
onion flesh remained, which she picked up and nibbled.  A strangely
sweet blend of onion and blood sprang forth, a coppery taste spreading
across her tongue.

She plucked another onion from the bunch and started chopping again,
this time concentrating long enough to finish the job without losing
more finger or onion.

        When mushrooms have expanded fully (approx. 10 minutes),
        rinse mushrooms and fungus several times, and pat dry on
        a paper towel.  Cut fungus into strips no longer than 2
        inches.  Bring stock to a boil and reduce heat.  Add
        mushrooms, fungus, and contents of marination bowl to stock.

Susan led Mark into her bedroom and told him to take off his clothes
and lie down.  She opened the bottom drawer of her dresser and pulled
out several leather manacles, each with two feet of coarse chain
attached to them.  Mark's eyes hadn't adjusted to the dim light in the
room, but he heard the clinking of the links as they were lifted from
the drawer.  "Hey, are you some kind of pro at this?"  He still
thought he was joking.  Susan merely stood silently and watched him
finish undressing.  He had a nice body, she noticed again.  It was
mainly why she was dating him; he wasn't any too bright.

Mark sat down on the bed and laid back slowly.  He stretched his arms
and legs out in what he thought would be a parody of a spread-eagle
position.  "Is this how I'm supposed to do it?"  A vacant sarcastic
grin adorned his face.

"That's fine." Susan said.  "Just relax while I put these on you."
She started with his right wrist.  She wrapped the leather around his
wrist and buckled it closed.  The chain dangled behind the small
headboard until she slipped one of the links onto the hook she had
screwed into the bed's leg in that corner.  She made sure it was tight
enough that Mark would be unable to push down into the mattress and
release the chain.  She repeated the process with the other three
limbs.  Blessedly, Mark remained silent.  Susan always enjoyed the
suspense of strapping someone in, and it was often ruined by idle
chatter from her partner.

She walked slowly back to the open drawer, and squatted in front of it
while she looked for an appropriate device.  She found it in a leather
flail.  She let the many smooth, soft strips of leather run over her
hands like hair does when hands are run through it.  She breathed
deeply of the leather, but the intoxicating scent had long since been
replaced by sweat and some small amounts of blood.  She wasn't sure
which odor she wanted more.

She turned back to face Mark, who was watching her intently.  "Hey," he
said, "you *have* done this before!"  He sounded very suprised,
somewhat nervous, and a tiny bit frightened.  Susan looked down at
him with disdain.

"Yes,"  she said simply.  "If you want to stop now, we can."

Mark thought it over for a second, then shrugged as well as he could.
"Nah...let's keep going.  Can we quit after we've started?"

Solemnly, Susan answered.  "Yes.  If at any time you say ``safeword,''
I'll stop and let you up.  Got that?  Say it now."

Mark looked confused.  "Safeword?"

Susan nodded.  "Say anything else you want.  Scream, shout, beg me to
stop...I'll keep going until you say ``safeword.''  This way you can
play along but still have an escape.  Understand?"

Mark looked away from her for a moment and then looked back.  "OK.
This sounds like fun."  He didn't sound convinced at all, but Susan
was too excited to care.  She'd had a brand new toy delivered to her
bed by his joking attitude, and she intended to play with it.

        Once meat has turned completely white (approx 5 minutes),
        add black, red, and white pepper.  You may add more red pepper
        if hotter soup is desired.  Add vinegar slowly, tasting
        periodically, until desired sourness is reached.

Susan watched distantly as the chicken began to turn white.  The
strips of fungus turned small cartwheels in the convection currents of
simmering soup.  She was entranced.

Mark had forced his chin down as far as it would go, trying to watch
the flail as Susan dragged it across his chest.  She was teasing him
while she teased herself.  She wanted to hit him with it, but the
smooth tanned skin seemed almost too beautiful to harm.  She watched
the leather strips slide over his chest, drooping across his well-formed
pectorals as the flail moved slowly towards his stomach.  The little
tendrils twisted around each other, displaying the dark side, and then
the lighter side.  She watched with fascination as the strips traced
over the lumpy muscles in his stomach, manifesting Mark's musculature
in smooth contours of leather.  This guy definitely had the best body
she'd ever attracted.

She saw him twitch slightly, and tickled him briefly with the flail.
She used it like a feather duster against his ribs until he laughed a
little, and resumed her march along his body.  She let the flail glide
over his stomach again, dragging her left hand behind it to verify
that the muscles there were as taut as they looked.  They were.  She
guided her leather pointer between his hips toward his penis, which
was rigidly erect in anticipation.  Mark was turned on by this
treatment, she figured.  She lovingly caressed his dick with the
leather, making a lazy circuit around his shaft before continuing on.
He had a well-formed, classically male penis, with a smooth, bulbous
head.  Exactly the kind that she liked.  Of course, she thought to
herself, there aren't many kinds I *don't* like!

She pulled her flail farther, along his thighs, leading it in a gentle
swishing motion across the bulges under his skin.  Again her hand
probed the strength behind the leather.  When she reached the tip of
his toes, she knew that she had no excuse to delay any more.

She drew the flail back from his feet, and brought it back with about
half of her strength onto the sole of his right foot.  Every muscle in
his leg jumped, and his arms strained mightily.  Susan was quite
impressed by the display of muscles in his arms.  She liked strong
arms.

"SHIT!!"  Mark screamed.  "What was that for?"

        Add bamboo shoots to soup, stirring constantly.  Chop onion tops
        crosswise so that small tubes are left.  They should be about
        1/4-inch in length.  Set aside.  In a small bowl, scramble the
        egg.  Set aside.  Mix starch into approx. 1/4 cup of cold water.
        Set aside.

Susan added the spices to her soup and started on the onions.  She had
extra from using a second onion, so she threw a small handful into the
soup.  She knew they'd wilt completely, but she didn't really care.
She wondered if the flavor would change any.   Her hand went over to
autopilot for the egg scrambling.

Susan dragged the flail along his leg towards his head again, stopping
occasionally to strike him with it, never hard enough to cause him to
complain, but always hard enough to make him wince.  She liked this
toy.

When the flail reached his stomach, Susan hit him with it with about
three-quarters of her strength.  This time she was prepared for the
spasm in his muscles, and was watching his arms as they bulged.
"Goddamn it, that *hurts!*   This is supposed to be fun," Mark
bellowed. It *is* fun, Susan told him silently.  She watched the
beautiful little patches of darkening skin coalesce on his stomach.  A
thin sheen of sweat was starting to build up all over his body.

Her gaze was drawn back to his dick, where she could see the veins
stand out under the skin.  That was new...despite his complaints, he's
getting harder.  She decided to sample this delicacy.  She knelt by
the bedside, even with his pelvis, the flail held in her left hand.
She bent over slightly, looking straight down at Mark's gorgeous proof
of manhood.  Sweat glistened on it, too.  She stuck out her tongue and
licked the head briefly, tasting the salt from the surface.  Mark did
not complain.

Susan kissed the head, and pushed down, letting the tip force open her
lips.  She took the first inch or two into her mouth.  It was enough
so that she could close her lips to suck gently, but not so much as to
prevent her from circling the shaft with her tongue.  Mark moaned in
appreciation.  Susan accepted the compliment silently.

Susan toyed with the dick for a moment longer, enjoying the salty
flavor of it, before continuing onward.  She pushed the shaft into her
mouth as far as she could take it.  She wished she could take it all,
but she did not have that ability.  Up and down she went, slowly,
while moving her tongue as much as possible.  She maintained the
steady suction she had learned at age 15 that was so important.  She
kept it up for a few minutes, but Mark didn't seem to be nearing the
edge.  She gave herself a moment's rest by withdrawing completely and
looking over Mark's body.  He looked very relaxed.  She decided to
change that.  She brought the flail down against his skin as hard as
she could from her awkward position.  Mark jumped again, screaming.
"Owwww!  Hey, why did you...."

Susan silenced him with her lips againt his.  He resisted momentarily
but then submitted, and returned the kiss.  Susan tasted salt there,
too, and heat from his tongue.  She reluctantly moved her attentions
back to Mark's dick.  He didn't seem to mind.

She started at the tip again, but licked and kissed down the underside
of the shaft instead of taking it into her mouth.  When she reached
his loosely-hanging testicles, she kissed one lightly, sucking her
lips onto it.  She opened her mouth slowly and increased her suction
until the organ popped into her mouth like a large peanut M&M.  She
wondered remotely if it would melt in her mouth.  She sucked very
gently and licked the surface, wishing that balls didn't have hair on
them.  They would be so much more fun without the hair.  Mark squirmed
in pleasure.

As Susan released her hold she wondered how Mark would react to having
his nut bitten, but figured he would probably take it as some sort of
emasculating insult.  Guys were weird that way.  She drew her tongue
against the shaft of his penis again, and started back up along it.
When she reached the tip, she plunged it back into her mouth.  Mark
"mmmmmed" in pleasure.

After another couple of minutes of doing her best work on him, Susan
decided that he was one of those guys who just had a hard time coming
from blow jobs, even excellent ones.  He needed some more stimulation.
She pulled away from his waist and transferred the flail to her right
hand, looking for a likely spot to attack.  The glimmer of an idea
grew in her, but she wasn't sure it was the right thing for her
purposes.

        Add starch solution slowly, stirring soup constantly, until
        soup starts to thicken.  If soup fails to thicken from starch,
        repeat with another Tbsp. of starch mixed into 1/4 cup water.
        When soup is thick, bring briefly to a boil, and turn off
        heat.  Stir in onion tops.  Slowly dribble egg into soup with
        a fork.  DO NOT STIR WHILE DOING THIS!!  Make large circles
        over the surface of the soup, letting egg sink into soup and
        then resurface.  Be sure not to clutter the soup with too
        much egg.

Susan thickened her soup with skill, making sure not to thicken too
much.  She knew that the soup might gel up on her, and then it would
be useless.  She would have to water it down if that happened, and it
wouldn't taste right afterwards.

She looked over Mark's body again, but kept coming back to her first
idea.  Finally she went with it, on intuition.  She raised the flail a
few feet and struck Mark with it, squarely across the underside of his
dick.  He lurched as if he had been touched with a live electric wire.
He shouted at her.  "Hey, that's not funny!  That hurts! I..." She
hit him again.  "Owwwwwww!  What the *HELL* are you doing?  I thought
this was supposed to feel good!"  While Mark was babbling, Susan
transferred the flail to her left hand, and held up his dick with her
right.  She flogged him once on the top side.  He jumped again, and
started complaining right away.

Susan put down the flail and resumed her lip work.  Mark's sudden gasp
and subsequent silence convinced her that she had done the right
thing.  She wondered how much the flail had sensitized his dick.  She
knew it wouldn't be long before he came.  She sped up her pumping
motions.

Susan tasted the warning signs seconds before Mark came.  She felt the
tension build in his hips as he moved in time with her, until his hips
shot up.  She pushed herself down as far as she could manage, and felt
the pumping of the underside of his dick against her cheek.  Warm,
salty fluid spilled onto her tongue, rewarding her efforts with the
taste of success.  She savored the tablespoon or so that emerged on
its own, and coaxed another few drops by squeezing the her fingers at
the base and sliding them towards the tip.  Mark's stomach convulsed
briefly with the extra pleasure.  As Susan pulled away from him, she
noticed that his dick was quite red.  She wondered whether it was from
her or from the leather.

        Serve hot, with fried chow mein noodles.  Serves 8-10.


Susan sat at her dining room table, with the bowl of steaming soup in
front of her.  She remembered the difficult moments after Mark had
come, when he had called "safeword," for reasons she still didn't
understand.  He had been red-faced and embarassed as he had pulled his
clothes back on as fast as he could.  He had left with only a few
terse words and had practically run down the hall from her door.

She shrugged and set into her soup.  It was delicious.