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Chapter 101
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Monique sighed, but didn't protest as the band of steel closed
relatively gently around her right ankle. The other end of the ankle
cuff attached under the heavy sofa. There were other deep scratches
in the wood of the sofa leg, as if it weren't the first time it had
been used as a restraint anchor.
Monique's skin was soft and smooth under his finger tips. He
allowed his fingers to trace up her calf. The girl shivered, but sat
still until he turned towards Andrea.
Andrea sat naked across the coffee table, chained by the ankle to
the other sofa. The baseball cap sat jauntily on her head, her
ever-present ponytail dancing about her shoulders, her blonde bangs
nearly falling into her eyes.
He straightened.
"What are you going to do with us now?" Monique asked quietly.
Instead of answering, he turned towards the entrance. At the archway
into the marbled front hall, he turned back towards the girls.
"When I come back, I'll give you some books to read until I need you
again."
"Need us for what?"
"Whatever I like," he replied with a smile dancing about his lips.
He turned and disappeared into the hallway.
<---===***===--->
Both Kate and Leigh looked up as he poked his head through the
swinging kitchen door. Both girls wore identical expressions of
discomfort and pleading in their eyes. The gags had been in their
mouths longer than he'd intended. But he couldn't let them free,
yet. There was more to be done upstairs.
"Only a few more minutes," he whispered.
A tear formed in Leigh's eye, but somehow the girl managed to keep
it from falling down her cheek. Instead, she pulled against the
ropes holding her down, but eventually gave up with a quiet mewl.
Her head dropped forward, her brunette hair hiding her pretty face
from view. Kate stared at him for a moment, her eyes still pleading
with him to release her -- at least from the red ball wedged between
her teeth. He shook his head kindly, and let the kitchen door close,
cutting off his view of the pretty naked girls bound to the kitchen
chairs.
They'd be free soon enough.
<---===***===--->
He settled into the chair, tilting back his head and staring at the
ceiling. They were all restrained, and he could finally relax. None
of them were any immediate threat.
He cast his thoughts outward, riding the waves of hazy mists.
Puzzled, he could sense something odd, but he couldn't quite
pinpoint it. The bubble he'd cast around the newlywed, Linda, was
gone -- gone like smoke into a fog. Forcing his mind to narrow, he
located Mark, her husband, still floating freely. But something,
almost like a wall, prevented him from seeing inside the suite where
he'd left the girl. A mental block seemed to manifest around the
location of his former base of operations.
Who? What? Why?
He didn't know the answers. Something was happening there; though
whether it was a natural phenomenon, or man made, or whether it was
a manifestation of some sort of time mismanagement by himself, he
didn't know.
He nearly rose from the chair, ready to leave the girls alone in the
old mansion. It was dangerous not knowing.
The image of a dusty blonde appeared, naked and lying on the floor
of an office, her hands lightly roaming her bare skin. She lay in
front of a marbled desk that looked eerily familiar. A male, really
not much older than a boy, sat frozen behind the desk, his back
ramrod straight, his eyes lifted above the writhing, nearly naked
girl stretched out before him. The girl's head tilted back in a
silent scream of passion, or ecstasy, her fingers moving gently
between her legs, hidden from the Timeman's immediate view. The
Timeman shivered, as the image faded into the mists of time.
Who was that girl? He'd seen her before, lying clothed on a park
bench near an old man feeding pigeons. Was she related to the block
upon the bridal suite? He didn't know, but something deep inside him
cried out the answer. Yes, he thought the pretty college aged girl
was intertwined with all of this.
A pretty college co-ed, roaming free in this silent world, somehow
blocking his time manipulations? Absurd. If she even existed, she
was merely a girl, like the girl lying naked, hurt, and handcuffed
in front of him.
He shook his head, and laughed quietly. Male fantasy -- it's what
got him here in the first place. His mind flit to the the man still
standing frozen in front of a non-existent suffering daughter. Yes,
male fantasy.
He began to push himself back to his feet. Have to go back to the
suite. Have to see what happened to Linda, though he fully expected
the girl to have simply returned spontaneously to her rightful
timeline. Or be exactly as he had left her, naked and slowed in her
hot tub.
A soft voice stopped him before he could complete the rise to his
feet.
<---===***===--->
"I'm so thirsty," Nicole said quietly, breaking him out of his
ruminations.
With a quick nod, he rose, and returned a moment later with the
octagonal glass filled with water from the bathroom taps. When he
returned, she sat carefully, her right hand pressing against her
injured side, and her legs firmly together overhanging the edge of
the bed.
Without hesitation this time, she accepted the glass, and drained
it. A lone drop trickled down her chin, where she almost absently
brushed it off and licked her finger. She held the glass out
towards him. Without a word, he took it, and then returned with it
filled again. More slowly, she sipped at the second glass. At last,
her eyes rose, and watched him warily sitting back in the chair. He
sat sideways, his legs dangling over the armrest, swinging easily
through the air.
She balanced the glass on her bare thigh for a moment.
"Why aren't you hurting me?" she asked quietly.
"You've been hurt enough," he said simply.
"Most men don't care about that."
"I'm not most men."
She raised the glass and sipped from the edge again.
"Most men would have raped me long ago, including the bastard in the
other room. Is he still ... frozen?"
The Timeman leaned his head back. "Nicole, first of all, you aren't
in any shape to be raped. It would probably turn into murder. I
think you've got a broken rib there, and sex might just cause
internal damage. I don't know why he hurt you like that, or how, but
whatever it was, you didn't deserve it. Second, I have no intention
of raping any of the girls I keep with me. There's no need to do
such a thing. Not for control. Not for pleasure. And with regards to
the bastard in the other room, he won't hurt you -- not while I'm
here anyway. Yes, he's still frozen, but not for much longer. You
don't have to see him."
Nicole paled for a moment, but then recovered.
"You're going to let him go?"
The Timeman nodded slowly. "For a while."
"He can't hurt me?"
He shook his head.
"He kicked me." The Timeman turned towards her for a moment. Her
fingers pressed lightly against her broken ribs. "Here. He kicked
me. My hands were tied behind me, and I couldn't stop him. I think I
heard something break. Inside."
"Why?"
"Is there ever a reason?"
"Sometimes. But never a good one."
"I really don't know. Because he wanted to. He likes hurting women.
Me, in particular."
The Timeman sighed. "You've been through a great deal. How long?"
She thought about it. It seemed so long, but she supposed that she
wouldn't have survived it it had been longer.
"A year, or so. After I dropped out of law school. I couldn't afford
it."
"He's a doctor?"
She nodded bitterly.
"And you don't want to be a doctor."
"I didn't until he started convincing me. But even after I came to
that little decision, it didn't stop. If anything, he beats me
more."
"I'm going to unfreeze him. You don't have to see him."
Nicole remained silent. She pulled carefully on her bound wrist, but
didn't shake her hand or twist it. It was almost like she was
stretching. A grimace of pain crossed her face, and she looked up,
tears nearly falling from her eyelids.
"I think I need to."
"Need to?"
"Need to see him. He won't be able to hurt me, right?"
"I don't think that's such a good idea. After what you've been
through."
"I have to go back eventually, don't I?"
The Timeman nodded, a look of pain crossing his face.
"I don't want to send you back, but I'll probably have to,
eventually. I won't be able to hold this timeline forever."
She didn't fully understand that, but she continued.
"This might be my only chance to say some things I need to say."
"He won't remember."
Nicole shrugged, her breasts rising prettily as she did.
"He's going to kill me, eventually. I know that. I want to say some
things before he kills me."
The Timeman looked pained, but non-committal.
"I don't know, Nicole. We'll see how it goes. Okay?"
"Do I have a choice?"
He looked at the naked girl for a moment, then pursed his lips.
Slowly, he shook his head.
<---===***===--->
Nicole walked slowly, with a slight limp, her hands loosely cuffed
in front of her. She had trouble with the stairs, but with some
support from his hand on her elbow, and her bound hands grasping the
oaken rail, she managed to step one stair at a time to the main
hallway. At the bottom of the staircase, she slowly lowered herself
until she sat on the bottom stair, her bare bottom against the
hardwood. Her breath came in ragged bursts, and she winced after
each rise of her chest. After she caught her breath, she looked up
at the sound of quiet murmuring from the living room.
"Who's that?" she asked. "You're going to share me?" Her voice
whispered, but rose in almost an accusing tone.
He smiled, and crouched in front of her. Carefully, he placed his
hands on her knees. Nicole didn't flinch from his touch.
"I already told you that I wasn't going to rape you, and I'm
certainly not going to share you. But there is some others that I
want you to meet. You'll be spending time with them."
Nicole's eyes flitted to a look of understanding.
"Kate?"
"Kate is one of them, yes, but she's in the kitchen at the moment."
Nicole nodded. He reached down, and helped her to her bare feet. The
girl winced as something inside jabbed her, but she managed to
prevent a scream.
<---===***===--->
As her eyes scanned the room, her eyes widened. Andrea and Monique
sat quietly, but turned their eyes towards the new girl.
"You fucking bastard," Monique whispered, her eyes roaming over the
bruises that graced Nicole's bare skin.
The Timeman turned toward Monique, slowly shaking his head.
"If I wasn't chained here, I swear, I'd kill you," she whispered
fiercely. "How could you do that to a helpless girl. You are one
fucked up shit."
"Monique, you know that I don't like swearing from my girls."
Monique looked at him incredulously. "I'm not your fucking girl, for
starters. And if you're capable of doing that to a girl, you're a
fucking animal." Her fists curled in rage beside her bare thighs.
The Timeman glanced at Andrea, who nodded gravely. He opened her
mouth to speak, but the words never made it from his lips. Instead,
Nicole spoke, her voice stronger than he would have expected from
her.
"He didn't do this to me," Nicole said slowly.
Monique turned her attention to Nicole. "You don't have to lie for
him. We know what he's capable of." Monique rattled the chain
connected to her bare ankle. "He abuses women for his sadistic
jollies."
Nicole turned towards the Timeman. "May I?"
He nodded, and leaned up against the archway, watching as Nicole
walked carefully across the room, settling into the sofa beside
Monique.
"He didn't do this to me," Nicole said carefully. Tears had formed
in her eyes. Monique hesitated, but some maternal instinct seemed to
flow into her at Nicole's unshed tears. She gathered Nicole into
her arms, and held her, skin to skin. Nicole seemed to melt into the
girl's arms.
"Who did, then?"
"It wasn't him. I'd tell you if he did. He saved me."
Monique looked up sharply, her eyes suspicious. The Timeman
shrugged, and Monique silently returned her eyes to the bruised girl
lying against her.
"Who did this to you?"
Nicole shivered, and simply shook her head. "He handcuffed me, but
nicer than before. And he didn't hit me, please."
"I'm not going to hurt you," Monique whispered.
"Thank-you," Nicole whispered. "Thank-you."
He couldn't tell who she was thanking, but she seemed to be
comfortable in Monique's arms.
"Who is she?"
The Timeman looked up briefly. Monique's gaze held him.
"Her name is Nicole, and she's been through a lot."
"I can tell. What happened?"
"Later."
Monique nodded.
"Will she be all right? Shouldn't we get her to a hospital?"
"Hospital? Doctors? Here?"
Monique sighed, and slowly began to stroke the girl's hair.
"She's hurt. Badly."
"I know. I need you to take care of her for a while."
"You could start by releasing us. She shouldn't have handcuffs on."
Nicole's voice rose slowly from Monique's arms. "I don't mind. I'm
used to them."
Monique nodded. "He wouldn't take them off, anyway."
"He offered to let me go free. It didn't feel right."
Monique looked quizzically at the girl, but eventually lifted her
eyes to the Timeman.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Please don't punish me."
He stared at the naked girl for a moment. "Sorry, for what?"
Monique took a deep breath, and let it out in a small sigh.
"Sorry for thinking ... sorry for swearing ..."
He shook his head gently. "You didn't know. It was -- appropriate.
I shouldn't have brought her in here without warning."
Monique nodded. "Thank-you," she whispered. And somehow, he knew
that he wouldn't punish the girl. Not this time.
<---===***===--->
He left the four paperbacks lying on the coffee table, though none
of the girls seemed interested in reading. Andrea, and Monique, and
Nicole seemed to be more interested in talking quietly amongst
themselves.
As he turned to move into the hallway again, to leave the girls
alone, Andrea's voice turned him.
"Sir?"
"Will you be all right in here?"
Andrea nodded. "I know the television won't work, but if we're going
to be in here for a while," she rattled her left foot where the
ankle cuffs restrained her movement, "may we listen to music? The
stereo should work. There's a stack of compact disks over there."
She pointed across the room.
She reminded him of a girl long ago -- Amy -- who liked to listen to
older rock music. Slowly, he nodded. He began to turn away.
"Thank-you," Andrea whispered. "But ..."
He turned again, a little impatiently. The girls in the kitchen were
uncomfortable in their gags. Andrea didn't know that of course, but
he hadn't really wanted to gag them in the first place. He needed
Kate and Leigh, and didn't want them too distracted by their own
physical discomfort.
Andrea paled at his expression. "I'm sorry. Never mind."
He gathered in a breath, and sighed. "What is it, Andrea?"
"It's just that, I ... I can't reach the disks." She flushed, for a
moment, as if she were a child caught with her hand in the cookie
jar. "I -- I tried already."
He nodded. "I don't have time to move them right now, Andrea. You'll
have to wait."
"If you released me for a minute, I'll move them closer to the
stereo. If you have to go, I'll put the cuff back on. I swear.
Please?"
Slowly, he shook his head. Tears appeared in the girl's eyes, and
she lowered them before the moisture overspilled onto her cheeks.
She wiped at them before they could fall.
"If it's okay, I can get them for her," a small voice rose from the
opposite sofa.
He turned his attention to Nicole. Her face still registered pain,
but she looked at him with bright eyes.
"You aren't going to do anything silly, are you, Nicole? If I don't
chain you to furniture?"
Nicole shook her head slowly, even that effort causing her pain.
"Where would I go?" He shrugged. The girl continued. "I'm
handcuffed, and I don't even have any clothes. Where would I go?"
"The police?" He knew that wasn't about to happen, but he needed to
test the girl. She probably didn't quite realise the external
limitations to her freedom yet. Andrea and Monique would probably
fill her in.
"They wouldn't help me. The deputy of police has been in this house.
Seen me before."
"Please, Nicole, don't do anything silly."
She grimaced, and nodded. "I can't. You know that, perhaps better
than even I."
"You can get her disks for her, but don't hurt yourself doing it.
Understand?"
Nicole nodded again, slowly. "I'll crawl if I have to."
"Don't let her hurt herself," he said to the other girls. With
that, he turned from the naked girls and moved slowly towards the
kitchen. Two girls tied to chairs in the kitchen needed to be
ungagged, and released. Badly.
Chapter 102
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Though they were still gagged, and tied, their eyes seemed almost to
register relief as he hopped up on the kitchen table between them,
his legs swinging freely under the table.
He turned to the redhead.
"eee, i aw uh," Kate tried to say around the ball in her mouth. He
had no idea what she was trying to say, but he understood the gist.
She wanted out, and was willing to do whatever it took to get that
way. Leigh pulled weakly at the ropes holding her to her chair, too,
impatiently staring at him. Of course, she'd wanted to be gagged, to
be fair to Kate, but she was probably regretting the decision, now
as her jaw muscles complained about the unnatural position.
"I have a task for the two of you. It won't be easy."
Leigh nodded, her brunette hair falling across her face. She tried
to toss it, but some stuck to her cheek where tears wet the strands.
Slowly, he reached forward and brushed the hair from her cheek. He
traced her gag for a moment, and the girl flushed, but didn't try to
avoid his fingers. She shivered instead.
"You may have to hurt someone."
Kate paled, and Leigh slowly shook her head. He considered for a
moment. "It's not one of the girls."
Comprehension dawned in Kate's eyes, and though she looked worried,
she slowly nodded her head. Leigh's eyes widened for a moment, but
she still shook her head. Kate tried to communicate with her eyes,
but Leigh looked away, pulled against her bonds further.
He hopped off the table, and moved behind Kate. The girl bent her
head, and with a bit of fumbling, he released her gag. He held his
hand below her chin, and with an effort, Kate popped the ball from
between her teeth with her tongue, and it fell, a little damp, into
his palm. She worked her jaw for a moment.
Her voice was shaky. "God, that hurts."
"I know. I didn't want to do that to you. Not this time."
She looked up at him with accusing eyes, but she didn't spill the
invectives that she was probably thinking.
"You didn't need to do that. You could have just separated us."
Leigh mewled from the other side of the table. Both Kate and the
Timeman turned their attention to Leigh. Kate began to talk, but he
shushed her.
"Will you do what I want?" he asked Leigh.
Leigh looked confused for a moment, her eyes pleading. She only had
limited communication with that ball between her teeth. She could
nod, or shake her head. She didn't want to do either. She wanted the
gag out, wanted to obey, but she wanted to tell him that she
wouldn't hurt anyone either. He knew all this, watching the
tortured girl's face.
She tried to talk, but it came out as an incomprehensible grunt.
"I can leave you here for a few hours ..."
Leigh closed her eyes, tears of frustration beginning to form.
"Leigh, he'll make you do it. You know he will. Cigarettes. Whips.
He'll hurt them, in front of you. Make you listen to them scream.
Please," Kate whispered. Her words were careful not to tell Leigh
about her unique insight, not with the Timeman standing right behind
her. She carefully avoided mentioning who the Timeman might want the
girls to hurt. She thought that she could do it, and if Leigh
understood, she might, too. She glanced upwards at her captor,
standing easily behind her. "Please, can't I explain to her? Can't
you explain to her? Why are you doing this?"
He slowly shook his head.
"Leigh?"
The girl looked up miserably. "Will you do what I want? You once
promised to do whatever I wanted."
Her eyes pleaded with him to ask a different question, something
that she could simply nod or shake -- yes or no -- but he wasn't
about give her an easy path. She wanted to scream at him. "Anything
but hurt someone. I won't. I won't. I won't." But the gag nicely
prevented that.
"Please, Leigh?" Kate whispered.
Slowly, the girl gave in, and nodded her head. Tears fell from her
eyes, and pain crossed her face in waves.
He nodded and moved behind Leigh. The girl shook as he released her
gag. The ball fell from her mouth as soon as it was free.
"You're a fucking bastard," Leigh whispered, as she worked her jaw
slowly.
<---===***===--->
He bid them halt, and the girls obediently stopped walking. Quiet
murmuring flowed from around the corner. He recognised Monique's
voice, and Nicole's quieter voices floating on the air.
The girls turned to face him. Rope marks graced the girl's wrists
and ankles, and thin rope marks were already fading from their bare
midriffs. Neither Kate, nor Leigh, seemed to mind, simply relieved
to be no longer tied to the chairs, or restrained as they walked in
front of him.
He moved between the naked girls, and lightly grasped their elbows.
He guided them slowly, into the living room.
It took a moment before Leigh stopped dead, her feet refusing to
move, her eyes anchored on the new girl who was sitting up, now,
beside Monique. Her sore jaw dropped for a moment, her mind barely
registering the fact.
It happened too fast for him to react to, though he probably
wouldn't have done anything different, even if he'd forseen Leigh's
reaction.
"You low fucker," Leigh whispered.
"Oh no," Kate said quite clearly from his left.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it coming, but didn't have the
time to prevent it from connecting. Leigh's open right palm swung
hard at his cheek. It connected with a solid crack, rocking his head
back, eyes widening. Kate was already moving, her elbow pulled
easily from his grasp. Leigh spun, and he managed to get his hand up
this time, catching her left wrist before her weaker left hook could
land, perhaps knocking teeth and blood flying.
"No, Leigh. It wasn't him," Kate cried. The naked girl crossed in
front of him, with a flash of bare skin, arms outstretched. "He'll
kill you ..."
"Get away from me," Leigh hissed. Her free right hand rose, and
connected with another stinging blow on Kate's left cheek. The girl
cried out, but didn't stop, her arms falling under Leigh's and
driving the brunette backwards, and away from the Timeman. Leigh
cried out as Kate's shoulder impacted with her ribs, knocking the
breath from her lungs. The two nude girls tumbled to the carpet.
Kate quickly straddled Leigh, and held her as Leigh gasped for air
like a landed fish. Leigh's bare breasts peeked up between Kate's
bare thighs. Leigh regained her breath.
Leigh shook, her anger and hurt streaming from her lips.
"How could he? How?"
The Timeman sighed, and rubbed at his cheek, backing away from the
flailing girls. In his peripheral vision, he could see the other
girls, in shock, perched on the sofas watching mute.
"Stop it, Leigh. Stop it. He didn't do that to her." Kate nearly
screamed. "I saw it. I saw her before he took her." Kate turned her
face towards the Timeman, her voice shaking. "You should have told
her. You should have let me tell her."
The Timeman turned from the girls, and rocked his head back against
the wall hard enough to hurt.
"Please, Leigh," Kate begged, turning her attention to the girl
between her thighs.
Leigh managed to get her right arm free from beneath Kate's knees.
Her fingers grasped at the redhead's throat. Kate scrabbled at
Leigh's arm, but then seemed to lose resistance. Leigh's fingers
closed with her thumb resting on Kate's windpipe. Kate relaxed and
tilted her head upwards, giving Leigh more access to her own throat.
"Why are you defending him?" Leigh nearly screamed. "Did he make
you, somehow? Did you help him hurt her? For fuck's sake, Kate."
Kate whispered, her voice cracking even under the relatively gentle
pressure of Leigh's fingers. She choked once, then managed to find a
more steady voice.
"He didn't do it to her, Leigh. I saw her. Someone else did that to
her, was still doing that to her when we found her. I begged him
save her. Please."
Leigh seemed to relax, but then tightened her grip on Kate's throat.
"What did he do to you, Kate? Did he rape you? Did he rape her? Did
he say he'd stop if you helped him?"
"Hurt me if you want to, Leigh, I understand. But I swear, I
wouldn't help him hurt any of us. Nicole, she's one of us now, and
she's better off here than where she was. You have to believe me."
She paused for a moment, rocking her weight back freeing Leigh's
other arm. "Either that or hurt me."
Leigh slowly brought her other hand up and encircled Kate's throat
with both. She didn't squeeze, but Kate slowly closed her eyes, her
breasts heaving with her efforts. Tears streamed down Kate's face.
Slowly, Leigh turned her head, trying to capture the Timeman's eyes.
"Say something," she whispered to him.
He shrugged. "Would anything I say convince you, at this point?"
"He didn't touch me," a small voice came from Monique's sofa. He
sensed movement from that direction. Nicole cried out, but pushed
herself from her seat. Tears formed, but somehow, she managed to
avoid spilling them. She walked to where Kate still straddled Leigh.
Slowly, she lowered herself to where Leigh lay on her back. "He
didn't touch me. He saved me." She reached out gently to touch
Leigh's arms which extended upwards, the fingers still grasping at
Kate's pale throat.
Leigh's eyes riveted to the girl's ribs where the ugly bruise seemed
to have stabilised for the moment.
"Who did this to you?" Leigh whispered.
Nicole hesitated, looking to Kate for help. Kate, however, still
stared at the ceiling, purposely exposing her throat to Leigh's
grasping hands.
"My -- my father," Nicole whispered. "He saved me from him. At
least for a little while." Tears fell unabashedly from Nicole's eyes
now, and she brushed them with her handcuffed hands.
Leigh's fingers slowly released Kate's throat, and they fell to the
carpet beside Kate's thighs. The pent up anger and aggression seemed
to melt from Leigh's body like a glacier retreating from the sea.
"Oh God, I'm sorry," Leigh whispered. She turned her eyes upwards,
as Kate lowered her face to stare at Leigh. "I'm so sorry, Kate,"
Leigh said.
Tears fell from Kate's eyes, falling like wax upon Leigh's trembling
breasts. Slowly, she climbed off the girl, and pushed herself to her
feet. Kate reached down, and helped Nicole to her feet, and walked
her back to Monique. Monique automatically gathered Nicole into her
arms, and Kate returned to where Leigh lay weeping on her back. The
redhead lowered herself to sit beside Leigh, cross-legged on the
floor, not caring about her exposure.
"I'm so sorry, Kate," Leigh choked.
Kate gathered Leigh into an easy embrace, unconcerned about their
mutual nudity.
"It's all right," Kate whispered. "I'd have done the same thing."
After a time, the girls rose to their feet, and approached the
Timeman.
"You can punish me, now," Leigh whispered, her face lowered and her
eyes seemed more interested in her toes.
"I'm not going to punish you," he said. "I have something else that
I need from you and Kate, if you aren't going to take another swing
at me." He nearly laughed. The easy tone in his voice brought her
eyes up. It was written on her face. She knew that he could have
stopped her, could have hurt her badly to stop her. He hadn't.
"I actually hit you. I'm so sorry," Leigh whispered. She reached up
to rub at the light red mark etched into his cheek. Her fingers
traced it, even as it faded.
He rubbed at his cheek. "A nice right slap you got, too. Maybe we
can put it to good use."
Kate looked up, her voice wavering. "I know it might get me
punished, but -- you shouldn't have done that."
He turned to Kate. "What?"
"Not warned her. You planned that right down to gagging me in the
kitchen." He nodded slowly at her words. "You can't blame her for
doing what she did."
He nodded slowly. "No. I can't. I'm not going to punish her for
being human."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you bait her, like that?"
Leigh's eyes watched back and forth between the naked redhead and
the Timeman. Kate held his eyes, not backing down.
"I wanted to know what she'd do. I found out."
"Was it what you fucking expected?" Kate almost spat out the words.
"She nearly choked me, for Christ's sake."
He smiled and touched her lips. "No need to swear," he admonished
her. Kate paled a little, but retained most of her composure.
"I'm sorry," she said. "But it was a pretty shitty thing to do. Even
if you don't count how much those fucking gags hurt."
He smiled and touched her lips again. He raised his eyebrows.
"Language, Kate. Next time, I'll have to punish you. But you're
right. It was a shitty thing to do, and I'm sorry. Okay?"
Kate looked at him quizzically for a moment. Then she whispered,
"I'm sorry for swearing. Why do you hate that so much?"
"Hate what?"
"Us swearing?"
He smiled, and then touched her bare shoulder. "It's not ladylike.
And if nothing else, even through the pain and indignities that are
imposed on you, I expect you to be ladies."
For some reason, Kate smiled at that.
After a moment, Leigh's voice cut through the quiet.
"Did I pass?"
He turned to her with a smile, and nodded.
"You did fine, Leigh, you did fine."
Chapter 103
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Leigh's body shook noticeably as she approached the man. She was
wary, careful not to touch his frozen flesh as she slowly circled
him, her eyes taking in his body position, his snarl, his hand
slowly lowering his zipper.
"This piece of -- this bastard is who did that to Nicole?" she
whispered.
The Timeman settled onto Nicole's stripped bed, lacing his hands
behind his head. Kate stood beside the bed, purposely not watching
the frozen presence in the room. The Timeman nodded in response to
Leigh's question.
"How badly is she hurt? Nicole?"
"I don't know -- I'm not a doctor. But Kate thinks she might have a
broken rib or two, and possible internal damage. She says he kicked
her while she was tied up. He was about to force her to have oral
sex with him."
"She was here?" Leigh pointed to the spot where Nicole had knelt.
The Timeman nodded gravely.
"Kneel there."
Leigh looked up sharply. "What?"
"Kneel there. Where she was. Just for a moment."
Leigh shivered, but moved slowly to stand in front of the man. "May
I ask why?"
"I'll tell you in a moment."
Leigh cast him a wary glance, but began to lower herself to her
knees. She stopped halfway down.
"You aren't going to free him?"
"Not for a bit, and even if I do, I wouldn't do it with you kneeling
in front of him."
Leigh cast him another suspicious glance, but obviously not seeing
any choice, she knelt and lowered her thighs back to her bare heels.
She glanced up at the man towering over her, and shuddered.
"Hold your hands behind your back. Open your mouth."
Leigh did as she was told, and shivered. A tear formed and traced
slowly down her cheek. Kate whimpered, capturing his attention.
"Go," he said to her.
Resigned, Kate padded over and touched Leigh's shoulder. The
brunette closed her mouth and climbed to her feet. Another tear
meandered down her cheek. She stepped aside, touching Kate as she
did. Kate nodded, and lowered herself to mimic the position that
Nicole had been found in.
"Oh, Christ," she whispered as she, too, held her hands behind her
back and opened her mouth. After a few moments of holding the pose,
she scrambled to her feet and faced the Timeman.
He motioned them over.
"Still want to know why?"
Neither girl answered, lost in their own thoughts. When Leigh spoke,
her voice was only barely above a whisper.
"What do you want us to do?"
"What do you want to do?"
Leigh hesitated for a moment.
"I think I hate him. I've never hated anyone in my life."
"Not even me?"
Leigh slowly shook her head. "How could anyone do that? He's her
fucking father."
He didn't admonish the girl for swearing, and she didn't even seem
aware that she'd done it. It seemed appropriate and perhaps this
wasn't a lady-like situation.
"Can you do it? If you can't, I'll understand. Monique might."
Kate slowly nodded. Leigh hesitated a little longer, but then joined
Kate. She nodded once.
"What do you want us to do?"
<---===***===--->
Kate and Leigh knelt quietly on the bed. He lay between them, his
hands resting lightly on each girl's hip. Neither girl tried to
avoid the touch.
The man began to move, the sharp sound of his zipper filling their
ears. Whatever he'd been saying before the time stop had gripped
him, continued to ooze from his lips.
"... time for your gift, slave cunt ..." his voice trailed off as
his body stiffened. "What the FUCK? I'll kill the bitch ..."
The Timeman spoke quietly, but his voice carried easily.
"There is no need to swear; it will offend the ladies."
He jumped at the sound, but turned around slowly, a snarl gracing
his lips. His penis jutted from his zipper like a floppy snake.
"Who the FUCK are you?" His eyes didn't even touch the reclining man
on the bed, but tracked back and forth between the two nude girls
kneeling beside him. He took a step forward, fists clenched.
The man was big, well over two metres, and he looked strong enough
to break ribs with a single kick.
"I wouldn't do that," the Timeman said slowly. The big man halted
for a second, but then took another step forward.
"Who's going to fucking stop me?" the man snarled.
"You don't want to test me," the Timeman said mildly. He sat up,
never releasing his fingers from the girls. They seemed to extract a
certain calm from his touch, though they both trembled.
"What are you going to do, pussy boy?"
"Stop you."
"You and the cunts? Who are they, anyway?" The man did stop then,
his eye roaming over the naked girls. When the Timeman didn't
answer, he continued. "Doesn't matter. I'll tear you apart, then
make you watch while I kill them. Nice and slow."
Without warning, he rushed forward, fists swinging. His aim wasn't
particularly focused, and if allowed to continue, he would have
probably broken bones in Leigh's face. Instead, he cried out in
surprise, and fell, his fist missing the trembling girl by a scant
five centimetres. Leigh screamed, but didn't fall backwards, mostly
because the Timeman's hand had moved to the small of her back,
supporting her.
The man cried out again from the floor.
"What the fuck have you done to my fucking feet?" He seemed to be
pulling ineffectually on his wingtips, which seemed to be glued to
the floor. "I'm going to kill all of you. Then I'm going to find
that little slave bitch and make her sorry she was ever born."
The Timeman slowly slipped from the bed, releasing Leigh and Kate,
and crouched low but out of the man's range. From somewhere behind
him, he extracted the gun. The man's eyes widened at that, but
didn't lose the redness of hatred and fury.
"I think Nicole is sorry that she was ever born already, don't you?"
"What have you done with her? Her cunt is mine."
The Timeman laughed, pointing the gun at random places on the man's
body. The man paled when it pointed towards his groin.
"She's not yours, and never will be. You may play as if she is, but
she isn't. She's mine now."
"Fuck you."
He turned to the girls watching terrified from the mattress.
"Kate?"
The girl nodded, and without further instruction slipped from the
bed and approached the blue backpack. The man on the floor watched
every move that the naked girl made.
"She's quite a bitch. Maybe we can work something out between the
two of us," the man said. He pulled hard on his glued shoes, but
yelped as he pulled something in his leg.
He ignored the man until Kate approached with a set of handcuffs and
the key. She handed the Timeman the key, and then knelt beside him.
"Tell her to come closer. I'll show her what a real man can do."
Ignoring his suggestion, the Timeman asked, "What's your name?"
"Fuck you. I don't have to tell you squat."
The Timeman sighed, and raised the gun to aim at the man's head.
"No. You don't. You have a simple choice, I can shoot you, or you
can tell me your name. And I won't shoot you in the head." He moved
the gun to aim at the man's penis which still flopped obscenely from
deep within his pants. The man paled. "Give me a reason." The
Timeman shrugged and cocked the gun.
"Maurice. Maurice Stephens."
"That would make the girl you were torturing, Nicole Stephens?"
The man nodded, his eyes no longer on Kate, but following each tiny
dip of the handgun aimed at his privates.
"I'm going to have Kate, here, handcuff you. You are going to let
her. If you don't, you'll regret it. Understand?" He held the gun on
the man, but didn't rise. Maurice nodded slowly. "Now, stand up."
Maurice struggled, but managed to gain his knees, then his feet.
With a sigh, he held out his hands. He tried to move his feet, but
the shoes remained stuck to the floor. "Those look a lot better on
girls," he said tightly.
"I agree, actually, but the girls haven't hurt anyone lately."
"You're a shithead, you know that?"
Ignoring him, the Timeman nodded to Kate. Kate rose to her feet,
leaving the Timeman sitting on the floor. Kate approached the man
slowly, her eyes wary. Maurice stuck out his tongue and waggled it
at her obscenely.
"Nice cunt. Pretty cunt," he whispered. "What I wouldn't do to get
my dick in your cunt."
Kate paled and stayed out of his range, the handcuffs dangling from
her right hand.
"Come and get me then, little cunt," he said. Kate backed up a step,
turning to glance at the Timeman, pleading in her eyes.
He nodded to the girl, and Kate inhaled deeply. She stepped forward
again, and reached out to place the cuff around his right wrist.
Maurice waited until she had committed herself, and then pounced.
Quicker than she was expecting, he had her turned, his forearm
across her neck. She choked, unable to even scream. Slowly, her face
began to turn red. Images of Darren, and his arm raced through her
mind.
"Do something," Leigh whispered. She was already half-way off the
bed.
"Stay," the Timeman barked at her. Leigh paled, and pulled her bare
legs back up onto the bed. Kate choked again, as Maurice tightened
his grip on her throat.
"You have them well trained, my friend," Maurice said amiably. Kate
pulled weakly at his arm. Her feet nearly left the floor while she
was in his grip, forced up on tiptoe. Maurice's free hand slipped
down her skin, brushing at her bare breasts.
"They respect me, even if they don't like me," the Timeman said. He
moved closer to Kate and Stephens.
"My slave respects me, too, even if she doesn't like me," Maurice
said with a chuckle. "Now, if you'd be so kind, release my feet from
whatever magic you've imposed on them, and we can talk about what to
do next."
Kate tried to shake her head, no, but he squeezed again, and the
girl choked, futilely pounding on his arm with her fists.
The Timeman cocked his head to the side.
"You're making it worse on yourself."
Maurice laughed. "What are you going to do, shoot me? I'll kill her
before you even pull the trigger."
"I can stop you without this," the Timeman said slowly. He then
tossed the gun towards the door. It clattered to the hardwood and
skipped across the floor until it rested against the baseboards near
one of Nicole's stuffed bears. Maurice's eyes lit up. Slowly, he
bent his head, and licked along Kate's neck beside her ear. The girl
moaned. "No. You're making it worse on yourself. Girls have a soft
spot, even if misguided, about hurting people -- even scum -- even
assholes -- even torturing, sadistic fathers that would rape their
own daughters in the light of day. Tormenting Kate isn't going to
help you."
"The fuck it won't. I'll kill her without a second thought."
As if to prove his point, he squeezed the girl again, and Kate began
to slump in his grasp. He eased up on her, and she sucked air in
like a drowning babe. Her breathing rasped like it was passing
across coarse sandpaper in her throat. Her eyes pleaded with the
Timeman to do something. Anything.
"Like you'll kill Nicole eventually?"
"That cunt isn't worth my time to kill her."
The Timeman regarded him for a moment. "Let Kate go."
"Or what? You want Nicole? You can have her. Give me these bitches
for a few hours in compensation."
"I'll give you these 'bitches' for a while, but I doubt if you'll
enjoy their company."
"I'll start by breaking their toes. Oh yes. Then their fingers. And
then we'll start having fun."
The Timeman took another step towards Maurice. In response, he
tightened his grip again on Kate. The girl gurgled, and Leigh
screamed from her place on the bed.
"I don't want to hurt you," the Timeman said quietly. Maurice seemed
taken aback by the calm in the other man's voice. "Kate is just a
girl. If you kill her, so be it. I can get others. But you'll be in
hell for far longer than you imagined possible, if you hurt her."
"You care about her."
"In a way, yes, but I won't stop because you are threatening her
well being. She's used to pain."
"I'll bet she is. You and I are like peas in a pod. But take it from
me. You can't let emotion rule these kinds of things."
The Timeman smiled and stepped forward. Maurice tried to step
backwards, but his feet remained glued to the floor. He grunted and
responded instead by squeezing Kate's throat. She made a strangled
sound, her hands clawing at his forearm, her nails finally drawing a
bead of blood. Her chest heaved, unable to pull life's air through
her throat.
Instead of backing off, the Timeman approached, and drove a single
fist past Kate's flailing body and into Maurice's soft underbelly.
Maurice gasped, and released Kate. Kate fell to the ground with a
groan, her hands pressed to her throat, gasping in gulps of air.
Leigh scrambled off the bed, and ran to the fallen girl.
The Timeman's eyes never left Maurice's.
"I suspect that you'll pay for choking her," he said mildly. He
turned away, but then turned back. He drove another fist into
Maurice's solar plexus, and the man doubled, gasping for breath.
Leigh had helped Kate scramble out of Maurice's reach, and the
Timeman crouched near the naked girls.
"Is she all right?"
Leigh nodded slowly. Kate looked up, and began to sob lightly, her
hands pressing to her injured throat.
The Timeman touched Kate's chin, and tilted her face upwards.
"Ready to try again?"
Kate slowly shook her head. The Timeman, looked down but when he
looked back up, he smiled a little.
"You're a brave girl. You'll get your chance to reverse that."
Kate nodded and pushed herself away from Leigh's arms.
"I'll try." Her voice sounded odd, raspy and forced. He hoped that
she hadn't suffered permanent damage.
"Good girl," the Timeman said. He rose, and retrieved the gun.
Maurice, who had straightened again, watched.
"Little man needs a gun?"
The Timeman approached, waving the gun at Maurice.
"I might not be able to stop her from killing you without this."
Maurice laughed. "I won't let her bind me. You realise that, don't
you?"
The Timeman shrugged, and moved in front of the man. "That's up to
you. But another stunt like that, and I'll probably not even
hesitate. Where would you like the bullet? Elbow? Knee? Pecker?"
Maurice paled. "Fucking asshole. We could have so much fun with
them."
"I'm already having fun. And you need a lesson in how to treat
women."
"And you don't?"
"Nicole has broken bones, as far as I can tell."
"They heal."
"She won't. As long as she lives."
Maurice shrugged.
"Hold out your hands. I'm only going to ask you once. After that, a
joint gets a bullet through it. How would that heal, doctor?"
Maurice paled. He hesitated for a moment, then held his hands out.
They shook. The Timeman motioned for Kate, and the girl approached,
trembling. She picked up the handcuffs that she'd dropped when he
had choked her, and then warily placed them over the man's wrists.
They clicked into place.
Maurice's eyes left the gun and rested the entire time on Kate's
breasts. She ignored him, and scampered away as soon as he was
secured. He pulled a little at the bonds, but realised the futility.
The Timeman turned from the man, and approached the girls. Kate and
Leigh had returned to kneeling positions on the bed.
He gave them instructions, and then then watched as the girls
slipped off the bed to complete the task.
<---===***===--->
Maurice stood hands above his head, ankles bound with ropes that had
at some point bound most of the girls in the Timeman's group. The
handcuffs about Maurice's wrists were held to the ceiling with a
thin rope looped through a ring set into the beams above. The
Timeman was sure that Nicole had tested the weight bearing capacity
of the rings at some point over the last year.
Kate and Leigh padded slowly towards the Timeman, who stood easily
in front of Maurice.
"He's dangerous," the Timeman said. "He'll hurt you if he manages to
get free. I need you to be careful. I can't bring you back from the
dead, and I can't heal you if he breaks your fingers, or arms, or
ribs. Understand?" Kate and Leigh nodded solemnly. "Teach him."
Again, the naked girls nodded. "But don't kill him."
He turned with one last glance at the tied man.
"I wouldn't goad them," he said easily.
"Fucking cunts don't scare me," Maurice whispered.
"They should. The female of the species is far more dangerous than
the male," he said.
"Fuckhead," Maurice said.
As the Timeman closed the bedroom door, he noticed locks on the
outside of the door. As the gap narrowed, he heard Maurice call out
to the naked women.
"Get away from me ..." his voice almost trembled.
The Timeman smiled gently, and began to push the locking bolts home.
If the girls were silly enough to free Maurice, the last thing he
needed was a crazy sadistic doctor with revenge on his mind roaming
the house freely.
Chapter 104
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The strains of Mozart filtered from speakers as he leaned quietly
against the door jamb leading into the living room. The soft clink
of chains echoed to him as the girls shifted positions. He watched
them for a while, as they were unaware of him.
Andrea lay on the first sofa, her left leg dangling off the edge to
accommodate her ankle chain. Her eyes were closed, her hands
interlaced behind her neck, and she appeared to be asleep, or
listening to the strains of music floating from the speakers.
Monique curled up in the corner of the other sofa, her bare legs
tucked under her. Her ankle chain was a little longer, and would
allow her the pose. Her mind was somewhere far away, in the land of
the Talisman.
Nicole lay on her belly on the floor beside the coffee table her
fingers tented open on a thick book. He couldn't tell what the girl
was reading.
It was Andrea that sensed his presence. Without opening her eyes,
she spoke.
"Are they all right?"
Monique looked up at the sound of Andrea's voice, and Nicole turned
her head to glance over her bare shoulder. Nicole flashed a quick
smile and then turned back to her book. Monique slowly folded over a
corner of her book and closed it, placing it on the coffee table.
After a moment, he answered Andrea.
"Who?"
"Leigh and Kate. You didn't give them to Nicole's father, did you?"
The Timeman laughed, and entered the room. He settled into the sofa
with Monique, who pulled her feet back as far as she could to avoid
contact. Nicole looked up worriedly and closed her book. He didn't
remember picking up the book Nicole was reading -- a copy of
Shakespeare's sonnets.
"No, they should be safe. They're with him, yes, but I suspect that
he's the one that will regret it."
"He's dangerous. Please don't leave them with him. I'll go back, if
you need someone to play with him," Nicole said quietly.
"You can't go back. He'd kill you -- handcuffs or no."
Nicole paled, and slowly, painfully, pushed herself into a seated
position.
Abruptly, he rose, and paced out to the small bathroom in the main
entranceway. In it, he poked through some drawers and emerged with a
bottle of Tylenol. He returned to the living room.
He crouched in front of Nicole, and held out the bottle.
"I don't want to kill myself," Nicole said. "Not yet."
He laughed, and reached out. She stiffened when he grasped her
handcuffed wrists, but then allowed him to turn over her right hand.
She grimaced at the marks there -- they seeped slowly, but he
suspected that they looked worse than they were. He shook two pills
into her right palm, and then closed her fingers around them.
"Thank-you," Nicole said. Before he could stop the girl, she popped
the pills into her mouth, and dry swallowed them. She gagged, but
then smiled.
"I was going to get you a glass of water," he remarked as he rose.
Nicole shrugged. "He never let me take them with anything, if he
even allowed me to have them. I think he wanted me to taste the
bitterness." She paused for a moment. "I did."
He nodded. "I'm not him."
"I know that."
He sighed and pushed himself up. Without a word, he left the girls,
and wandered into the kitchen. In the fridge, he found a case of
root beer. He extracted four cans, and returned to them with the
root beer cradled in his arms.
"What do I have to do to get that?" Andrea breathed, her eyes rooted
to the cans of pop.
"Well, I was going to pour it on Monique and have you lick it out of
her belly button."
Andrea held her ground, her eyes never leaving the cans cradled in
his hands.
"I will. You know that."
He nodded. "Perhaps, some day I'll have you do it, too."
He held out one of the cans to the blonde girl. Andrea hesitated.
"I don't have to do anything?"
"Are you thirsty?"
The girl nodded. As far as he knew, she hadn't had anything to drink
since he'd taken her. It seemed long ago and far away.
"Take it. No strings."
She looked confused momentarily, but then extended her small hand
and took the can. She opened it deftly and sipped slowly from it.
She sighed.
He distributed the other two cans to Nicole and Monique. He drained
his in one quick swallow.
"Do you know how long it's been since I've been allowed anything but
tap water?" Nicole breathed.
He shook his head.
"I don't think he ever let me drink anything but water and milk. And
I think the only reason he made me drink milk was to keep my bones
strong so he wouldn't break them as easily. I didn't mind, this
stuff is hell on the system, but water gets dull."
"Enjoy it."
He returned to the archway and watched the girls drinking more
slowly than he had. They were beautiful arranged around the room.
None of them really paid him any attention.
"I don't suppose you'd let us free," Monique asked quietly.
"I need to have a shower," he said simply.
Monique nodded, as if he'd answered her. Perhaps, he had. She
sighed, and picked up her book. He watched as her body moved, so
exposed, so helpless, so simple. The girl didn't even notice his
attention. Instead, she opened the book at the page she had marked,
and began to read, her eyes tracking down the paragraphs. As he
finally turned towards the staircase, Andrea's voice called to him.
"Do you want company?"
He was about to refuse, but on impulse, he returned to the room, and
released her ankle. The girl raised her eyebrows, but quickly
scrambled to her feet. She winked at Monique, as if to say: "I don't
understand, but I told you so."
Silently, she walked ahead of him, her nudity seemingly not
bothering her. She opened the door to the bathroom, and motioned him
in. After a second of hesitation, he slipped into the bathroom, and
she followed, slowly closing the door.
<---===***===--->
Her fingers deftly unbuttoned the clasps on his shirt as he watched.
Gently, Andrea pushed the fabric from his shoulders and it fluttered
to the floor. He stopped her as she began to release the button on
his jeans.
"You don't seem to be worried about not wearing clothing."
Andrea looked up, and let go of his pants.
"Don't you want me to see you naked?" she asked. "Seems unfair."
He ignored her comment. "No. You. You don't seem to care about me
taking your clothing away."
Andrea smiled, and backed up until she rested against the counter.
"Should I be? Am I ugly?"
He smiled. "Quite the reverse. But the other girls don't like being
naked all the time."
Andrea laughed. "I'd prefer to wear clothes, but since you obviously
aren't going to let us, I don't worry about it. This is me. We're
all naked under the bits of cloth that we drape around us. We're all
naked, vulnerable human beings underneath. Even you."
"You don't care that I can look at you anytime I want."
"I seem to be at your mercy, and there isn't much I can do about
it."
"You don't have to offer to shower with me."
Andrea smiled. "Maybe I want to."
He nodded slowly. She waited a moment to see if he would regale her
again with more questions, but when none appeared, she moved forward
again. He stopped her fingers again as she began to unbutton his
jeans.
"Don't tell me that you're shy," Andrea murmured.
He laughed, though in truth, the girl wasn't far off the mark.
"I won't laugh, even if it's small. I suspect it wouldn't be good
for my hide."
"I don't think you'll laugh."
"Do you want me to leave?" Andrea said. Her tone was serious, though
there was a sparkle in her eye. "Would you feel better if you bound
my hands?" She glanced around as if looking for a pair of handcuffs.
He shook his head, and then released her fingers. Andrea nodded, and
then pulled at his jeans, pushing them in one motion to his ankles.
He kicked off his shoes, and then leaned down to pull off his socks.
He stood in his boxers in front of the naked girl. She looked at him
questioningly.
"You've made all of us strip for you -- it's your turn, now. And
it's only me." She cocked her head to the side. "I have to be naked
in front of the whole damn world."
"Maybe I should just shower alone."
She laughed lightly. "I'll leave, but are you serious?" She pointed
at herself, her fingers tracing her nipples that were beginning to
become more erect as she spoke. "A naked girl is offering to shower
with you. It's not like I need one. I just took one, with Monique.
Remember? You chained me to her? Made me wash her? If I can wash
another woman, I can wash you."
He sighed, and making a decision pushed the last remaining clothing
to the floor. He stepped out of the boxers. Andrea glanced down
once, a small smile gracing her lips. But it wasn't mirth, and it
wasn't mocking. She lifted her eyes purposely to his, and held out
her hand.
<---===***===--->
The water felt wonderful across his shoulders, and her fingers
kneading the soap into his skin felt heavenly. He moaned.
He looked down, not surprised at his penis. As the water had run
over the two of them, and she'd brushed against him, the desire of
the last couple of days had surfaced in a rush of blood below. He
throbbed, and knew that it wouldn't take more than a few gentle
touches and he would explode. But it wasn't time, and he regretted
it. Hormones rushed through him, and he idly wondered if time
manipulation caused a physiological release of hormones into the
bloodstream. It might account for his increased sexual tension while
inhabiting this domain. Idly, he wondered if the girls felt the
same thing. He hadn't allowed any of them release since he'd taken
them. He'd teased them, forced other girls to tease them, but never
quite let them climax.
His penis throbbed.
"Andrea?"
"Yes?" Her fingers worked shampoo into his hair as she stood beneath
the waterfall behind him.
"Forgive me for asking, but how is your sex drive?"
"Are you asking if I'd normally offer to take a shower with the guy
who stripped me, held me at gunpoint, and kidnapped me in a
different time zone?"
Slowly, he turned, brushing shampoo from his brow.
"I suppose. Are you finding yourself more aroused than normal since
I unfroze you?"
The girl stepped back. "That's a hard question for a naked girl in a
shower with a naked guy. Look, I've been tied up, stripped naked,
essentially in public, surrounded by other naked women nearly
constantly. I think it's natural. So yes, I've been more -- sexually
interested."
"Is that why you offered to shower with me?"
Andrea slowly shook her head. "No. I offered because I thought that
you'd enjoy having some female company in here. Don't you?"
Her hair plastered to the top of her head, and beaded over her skin.
The effect was tantalising.
"Yes," he nodded. "But I'm not expecting anything from you. You
realise that, right?"
Andrea sighed. "Why don't you rape us? We can't do much to stop you.
Hell, you could tie us to beds and rape each of us twice, in turn.
But you don't."
"No. I don't."
"Why?"
"I'm not sure I can explain it."
Andrea seemed satisfied with that. She stepped forward and seemed to
purposely press her bare breasts into his chest. For a moment, he
stood there, enjoying the sensations. Her hand dropped to cup his
groin, and he moaned, his voice mixing with the shower.
He felt her drop, settling to her knees in front of him. He touched
the top of her head, and she looked up questioningly.
"I don't have to do this."
"Do you want to?"
"I might," she said evenly.
Slowly, he nodded.
<---===***===--->
Her lips slid along the length of him, her tongue a fluttering
satin. Her fingers tickled him, in all the right places. But, it was
wrong for him, or she was purposely postponing his release.
Honestly, it felt like the latter. He pressed forward into the
depths of her mouth. She moaned, and he cried out.
He approached the edge of the chasm that was about to claim him. She
sighed around him, and bobbed her head one last time. Expertly, she
provided just the right amount of suction around him.
With a cry, he touched her wet hair, withdrawing. His penis pulsed,
and cried out in unfulfilled agony.
"You don't need to do this," he whispered.
She looked up at him from below, a puzzled expression on her face.
"Didn't you like it? I've been told I'm not too bad at this ..."
"No, Andrea, you are good." She smiled in some sort of satisfaction.
She reached for him again, but he stepped back, and brushed
her fingers from him. She glanced up, hurt, but then resignedly
pushed herself up to stand under the shower. She made no attempt to
keep the water from cascading down her face.
"Don't all men want that? A naked woman on her knees?"
"Most do."
"Don't you? Wasn't I good enough for you?"
"Yes, and you were."
She paused for a moment, as if considering whether to ask her next
question. He waited patiently. At last she spoke, though her voice
was uncharacteristically timid.
"Are you gay?"
He laughed easily, and her face fell into a careful relief.
"Would I have this, if I were gay?" He pointed at his erection which
still throbbed uncomfortably between his legs. "Why would I choose
girls to keep around naked and handcuffed?"
She pursed her lips, as if these things hadn't really occurred to
her before. But he didn't believe that. Andrea was too -- worldly --
to have really believed that he was homosexual.
"Then why push me away like that? I'm naked. I'm female. I'm here.
And I'm willing."
"Are you willing?"
She cocked her head to the side and stepped from the spray. He
could see her mind whirling, psycho-analysing him.
"You think you're raping me?"
"It's not like you're here by choice."
"I asked if you wanted company. I offered. I sank to my own damn
knees for you. I didn't see you pushing me down. I'm not wearing
your handcuffs. It's not like your gun is in here with us."
"It's still not right."
"What is right here?" she asked quietly. "Is it right to keep women
chained up, naked, against their will? Monique doesn't want to be
here. Kate and Leigh, I'm not sure about, but I'd be willing to bet
that they'd prefer clothing, and perhaps a few less ropes holding
them down."
"What about you?"
"Me?"
"Do you want to be here?"
"I am."
"That's not an answer."
Instead of answering, she glanced out beyond the glass enclosure of
the shower.
"Maybe if I get you to have sex, maybe you'll be easier to get along
with. Maybe you won't need to hurt them as much."
"I see. I'm not in the mood to hurt anyone tonight. You must know
that."
"How could I know that? How do I know that you won't change your
mind the first time Monique inadvertently forgets her place, and
insults you? How do I know that you won't change your mind if Kate
steps on your toes? Or Leigh spills a glass of wine on your shirt?
Or I say the word 'fuck' when you don't want to hear a girl
cursing?"
He stood silent. Water splashed through the quiet.
"Look," Andrea said as she turned to face him. "I'm here. You
obviously want sex. I'm here, and whether you believe it or not, I'm
willing -- at least in my own mind. I'm a liberal girl. I've
experimented. Do you think that you are the first guy to ask me to
wear handcuffs? Or walk around without my clothes? I'm in college
for Christ's sake. I experiment. I don't mind having sex with you --
I might even enjoy it. Scratch that, you're the only guy on the damn
planet. I'd almost definitely enjoy it. You asked me yourself. I
wasn't lying. My hormones are coursing through me. You can tie me
down, if that turns your crank. I don't care." She paused for a
moment. Slowly, without waiting for an invitation, she lowered
herself to her knees again. This time, on her way down, she
purposely slipped his hardness between her wet breasts, and pressed
them together. He slipped through, gasping. She touched him again
with her tongue. "I'll never love you -- I have to be honest -- but
that doesn't mean we can't have each other. Satisfy some of those
driving urges of yours. We have to keep you happy, and I honestly
don't mind. I'll beg, if that's what you want." She slipped her lips
over his penis again, and pumped. "Please?"
He concentrated on her motion for a moment, the chasm widening, and
drawing near in a matter of two downward strokes. She wasn't teasing
any longer, her fingers stroking in just the right places. With a
cry, he pushed her head again, and stepped back.
She lowered herself, under the water. She looked small and almost
pathetic. She lowered her face into her hands, and her shoulders
shook twice. After a moment, she raised her eyes, and pushed herself
to her feet.
"Anytime you want to reconsider, I'll be here. Where else will I
go?"
He nodded, bent and kissed her wet cheek. "I appreciate the gesture.
It's just not right. Not now."
"Fuck one of them, or more of them," Andrea said quietly. "You'll
end up hurting someone if you don't. Monique doesn't want you, but
she would fuck you if you asked. Both Kate and Leigh would have sex
with you in an instant." He looked at Andrea skeptically. "If you
don't want me, please, choose someone. I don't want anyone raped any
more than you, but if you ask, and they say yes, it's better than
what will happen if you let this," and she reached forward to gently
stroke up his penis, "control you."
"Kate and Leigh would both consider it rape. They'd have sex, I
think, but they'd consider it rape."
"At one point they would have, but not now. Especially after seeing
Nicole -- seeing real rape up close and personal." Slowly, he shook
his head in disbelief. Andrea smiled. "You'll see," she said.
She reached forward and touched him one last time. He closed his
eyes, and moaned. She withdrew. When he opened his eyes, she spoke
again, dropping her voice into a husky timbre.
"Having sex with me doesn't mean losing control, you know ..."
She reached past him, and turned off the shower. The flow stopped
obediently, and was replaced by a fast drip from above his head.
Then she turned and pushed open the door, her skin sliding against
his. Holding out her hand, she led him from the enclosure, and
shivering, dried him before herself.
<---===***===--->
He helped dry Andrea, and she let him. Using the hairbrush, he
brushed out her blonde tresses, and instead of pulling it back into
a ponytail, and hiding it under her cap, Andrea looked up at him.
"You prefer it loose, don't you?"
"What makes you say that?"
"All the other girls have their hair loose. Monique said that you
made her pull out her bun. She was wearing it up when you took her."
Andrea lowered the security cap to the counter and shook her head.
"I'll go natural for a while, if that's okay with you." Her hair
felt light and clean upon her shoulders.
He nodded slowly, bending to pick up his clothing. He slipped on the
clothes, and then stood before her barefoot, his hair still damp.
"Touch me?" she asked.
Before he could consider what he was doing, he reached up to cup her
left breast. Andrea sighed, but stood still while he gently stroked
her clean skin. She gasped as his fingers teased her vaginal lips,
and then slipped inside, only once.
When he withdrew, she trembled, willing her hands to her sides to
prevent them from continuing what he'd started.
She sighed.
"I'm not allowed to climax either? Will you let me masturbate?"
He smiled. "Maybe later."
She shrugged, but her body ached. She couldn't admit to him that she
actually did want sex -- desperately. Instead, she tried to will the
sensations and demands from her body away -- not very successfully.
Slowly, she bent and picked up his shoes and socks. Carrying them in
one hand, she held out her other. He took it.
Fingers entwined, she led him back down to the living room. There,
she didn't protest as he returned the steel bracelet to her ankle,
and she relaxed back into the pillows of the sofa. She sighed once,
her body aching. She watched him, as he ensured that Nicole was
comfortable enough, and Monique didn't need anything.
Then he walked from the room, without so much as a backward glance.
Chapter 105
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The chain rattled between his wrists and the rope leading to the
handcuffs looked dangerously thin. Hesitantly, Leigh approached the
big man, while Kate remained back rubbing almost absently at her
throat.
Maurice raised his eyes to Leigh, a fire burning deep below the
surface.
"Cunt," he nearly spat at her.
Her eyes widened, and she nearly backtracked away from him, but in
the end, she held her ground and stared into his bloodshot eyes.
"Pathetic," she said, nearly in a whisper.
"Fuck you, cunt," he said. He pulled again on the rope holding him
immobile in front of the girl. "I will get free, and I will kill
him. I won't kill you, though. No. But I will break your bones, and
grind them in her blood." He glanced at Kate who swallowed and
involuntarily stepped back. Leigh continued to stare at him. When
the girls didn't respond to him, he laughed. "Fucking girls.
Fucking useless." He turned his head away.
Leigh sighed, and returned to where Kate was standing.
"What do you want to do?"
Kate swallowed again, pain dotting her features. She massaged her
throat again.
"I want to choke him. God, I want to choke him."
Leigh sighed, and guided the redhead back to the bed. Together the
girls sat down, their weight creaking the mattress. Leigh opened
the first two drawers in Nicole's spartan nightstand. The second
one contained various sexual implements -- a vibrator, and a small
whip, nipple clamps. Leigh picked up the whip, and stared at it.
"I hate him, but I can't hurt him," Kate whispered. She stared at
the bound man standing watching them. He winked back at her.
"Fucking dykes," he said.
Leigh sighed, and hefted the leather in her right hand. She walked
carefully back to Maurice.
"You're making it easy to do what we have to do."
"What's that cunt? You don't have the balls to use that thing."
Leigh found a hint of a smile. "You're right. I don't have balls.
And neither will you, when we're done with you."
Her smile widened for a moment as he paled.
"I'm not afraid of you, cunt. I've whipped girls far more impressive
than you. Pussy. Not even allowed to wear clothes." He turned away
from Leigh again.
Leigh flushed, but didn't retreat.
"I don't want to hurt you. I hate you, but I don't want to hurt
you."
He turned to the girl, and smiled. It was an ugly smile, chilling
her to her core.
"That's the difference between you and I -- besides the balls. I'd
hurt you, if I had the chance. Make you scream. Like I do Nicole."
The image of Nicole's battered skin rose into Leigh's mind, her
reaction to the girl, slapping the Timeman, rising as well. Maurice
smiled.
"You want me to beat you. Fuck you and beat you. Fucking worthless,
cunt," he whispered.
The whip tumbled to her feet, where it lay curled up near her bare
toes.
"Bastard," Leigh whispered.
"I am a bastard, and I'll enjoy removing your fingernails, one after
the other as you scream."
"I wouldn't scream for you," Leigh said quietly. She wanted to
swear, wanted to scream at him. But something inside her cried out
for her to hold onto herself. Her body throbbed, being in control of
this brute, but it was only an illusion. Nevertheless, it was a
convincing one. She was free, even if she was naked, and he was not.
She could strip him if she wanted. She didn't, and so he kept his
clothing. But it was her choosing. Not his.
She cried out as he spit at her. White globules from his lips
spattered her left cheek; some landed obscenely on her left breast.
In a daze, she wiped the moisture from her skin, and stared at it
lying against her pale fingers. She looked up at him, and for the
first time, he tried to back up. The ropes held him.
"Fucking cunt. Let me go, and maybe I'll go easier on you."
She stepped forward, and without thought swung her fist at his
stomach. He was taken off guard, and he lost his air with a whoosh.
Gasping for air, he managed to straighten and release some of the
pressure from his wrists.
"Fucking worthless, cowardly, cunt."
Leigh stepped back for a moment, and regarded him.
"I have a cunt. It's right here." She pointed downwards without
looking, though her legs were pressed tightly together. She wasn't
about to give this animal a free show without coaxing. "But I am not
a cunt. Understand?"
He laughed, even while his breath came in slow hitches.
"Cunt," he said with a sparkle in his eyes.
Leigh sighed, and stepped forward again. She swung again, not
knowing where she was punching, only relishing the soft sound of her
hands hitting him. Hitting him. Hitting him.
A voice, which she barely recognised as her own rose in a cry of
pain, and anger. "Bastard. Fucking bastard."
<---===***===--->
"You're going to kill him," a voice whispered in her ear. Leigh's
arms felt like lead; she could barely raise her arms anymore. At the
light touch of Kate's fingers, Leigh stepped back and away from the
man hanging limp by his wrists. Blood, like Nicole's, ran down his
arms from the cuffs in rivulets.
"Oh, God," Leigh murmured. She slowly sank to the floor, her elbows
resting on her crossed knees. "Oh, God." Tears ran down her face,
and she shook off Kate's comforting hand from her shoulder. Maurice
moaned, and incredibly he began to push himself, trying to get his
feet under his weight.
Kate rose, and still massaging her neck, approached the man. Leigh
watched silently through her blurred eyes. Kate looked back once,
and then turned to face the man.
"What the fuck are you looking at? Cunt?"
"After she pounded you, you still call us names?"
"Cunt," he repeated. "I'm going to enjoy fucking you."
Kate shivered, and paused. "We're human, you know. Nicole, Leigh,
me. We're human beings."
"Cunts. That's all you're fucking good for."
"You'll be caught some day."
He laughed at that, straightening further. He seemed to wince, but
then drew back his head.
"You can't hurt me. You're only a fucking pussy."
Something seemed to snap in the girl, and she stepped forward, much
as Leigh had.
"I don't want to hit you," Kate said. "He instructed me to, but I
don't want to. Hitting you isn't the answer."
"Then I guess you'll have to kill me." With that, he spat again.
Most of it missed the girl, but some landed on her shoulder. Kate
turned to regard the moisture, but didn't wipe it. She looked like
she would be ill. She shook her head.
"He'll hurt us, if we don't hurt you."
"Fuck you, bitch."
She looked at him, her eyes blazing. Kate inhaled deeply, held the
air in her lungs for a moment. She closed her eyes, as if counting
to calm herself. When she opened her eyes, he tried to twist away
again.
She stepped forward, her hand bent back, her small hand angled, palm
up. The edge of her palm struck him at the base of the throat. It
might have killed him, there and then, his windpipe collapsed, if he
hadn't managed to tense the muscles of his neck at the last second.
Her wrist felt as though she'd struck a soft, pliable wall. His eyes
bulged in pain and surprise.
For a moment, he looked like a fish out of water, unable to draw
breath, gasping. He closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing loud
and almost restricted by the blow. He swallowed heavily, finally
reopening his eyes. For a moment, he actually looked frightened of
the naked girl standing in front of him.
When he spoke again, his voice was husky and raspy, as if he'd been
screaming at a sporting event for hours.
"When it comes time for you to die, I'm going to enjoy choking the
life from you," he said slowly. "You fucking, bitch, cunt."
Kate closed her eyes for a moment at the tirade, but then reopened
them slowly.
Without warning, she raised her right leg, unconcerned that he was
staring between her legs as she did. This distraction didn't help
with the impact. Her foot struck out, in a nice approximation of a
roundhouse kick. She cried out as her toes connected with his side,
near where Leigh had punched him repeatedly. He lost his breath
again, wheezing. Closing her eyes, Kate began to throw kicks at him,
unconcerned about where they fell. When her right leg tired, she
switched to her left, until she couldn't stand anymore.
Her knees collapsed, and she fell to the ground. Leigh began to
crawl forward towards Kate. Kate curled up, weeping. Leigh reached
her, gathering the girl into her bare arms and rocked her.
They remained like that for a while, until they noticed that the
invectives had stopped from above. Only quiet moans issued from the
tall man bound above them.
"My foot hurts," Kate said quietly. Her fingers massaged her right
foot slowly around her bare toes.
"So do my hands," Leigh said quietly. The man stirred above them,
but didn't wake.
"I should feel good, but I don't," Kate whispered. "I feel like I'm
no better than him."
Leigh sat for a moment, considering the man above them.
"You're better because you didn't want to do it."
Kate nodded, but it wasn't clear if she felt any better.
Slowly, Leigh pushed herself to her bare feet. Tides of sexuality
flowed through her, but she tried to push them away. It wasn't
right. Not here. Not now.
Slowly, she lifted Maurice's shirt. His middle was a mass of
brownish bruising.
"He looks like Nicole," she muttered.
Kate nodded, and then rose. Together, the girls lay down on the bed,
falling wearily into each other's arms.
<---===***===--->
"Fucking dykes. If I was free, I'd show you a real man," Maurice
muttered.
Leigh and Kate looked up sharply. Leigh shook her head. Perhaps,
she'd been dreaming? Her body ached, but mostly her hands. She
flexed her fingers, her hands refused to clench. It hurt.
With a groan, she swung her bare legs from the bed, unentangling
herself from Kate. She lifted herself to her feet, and stepped to
face him. Kate remained reclining as modestly as she could on the
bed.
Leigh shook her head slowly.
She bent and picked up the small whip that lay near Maurice's shoes.
"I'll bet this hurts," Leigh said quietly.
"Ask Nicole," Maurice said with a smile. Leigh remained quiet. "Ask
Nicole how much she screamed when I used it on her fucking useless
tits."
"Why don't we find out how much you'll scream, instead."
He paled for a moment, but then recovered. "You don't have the balls
to use something like that."
Leigh sighed, and stepped forward. It was becoming easier, after the
initial release of her aggressions. She reached up easily, and
slapped him. His head rocked back, and he swore.
"Fucked up, cunt!"
In response, she hooked her hand, and dragged her nails down his
cheek. Thin lines of blood welled up, and despite his initial
bravado, he shrieked.
"I'm going to rip off your tits for that, you fucking bitch."
She stepped back, and slowly swung the whip at him. It struck him in
the chest, and he stiffened, but bit his lip to keep the yelp of
pain from emerging. Even through clothing, the leather must have
raised a welt. Slowly, she cocked her arm back again, and the whip
fell, snaking across his chest and striking the cheek that she'd
scratched. He screamed again, despite his attempts at control. A
thin line appeared on his cheek where the whip had struck him.
<---===***===--->
He hung by his wrists, breathing hard.
"Why don't you go fuck her? Bitch? Did whipping me make you hot?"
Leigh sighed and dropped the leather instrument. Instead of
dignifying his comment with an answer, she stepped back and cocked
her head to the side. Her eyes shone both with unshed tears, and
with something else.
"You'd like to see that, wouldn't you?"
"Fucking dyke."
"Maybe we will. Have sex right here on the floor in front of you.
Show you what you'll never have." Leigh purposely touched her
breast, tracing the nipple. The thoughts of her making love to Kate,
even in front of the monster, excited her. Her breathing increased.
"Fucking slut," he said. "You really are hot. Come closer, and I'll
show you what a real man can do for you."
"You sounded like Nicole probably did when you whipped her.
Screamed like a little girl. A real man? Whipping a helpless girl?
How can you stand yourself?"
Instead of taking the bait, he stared at Leigh.
"He hasn't fucked you at all, has he? Fucking worthless piece of
shit. I'd dick you at least four times a day, if you were like
that in front of me all the time. Fucking slut." Leigh stood
silently regarding him. "Fucking pansy doesn't know what he's got.
I'd have you begging for my prick. Do you in the ass. Do you in
every fucking hole you got. Maybe even rip you some new ones."
Instead of answering him, she approached him. He watched her warily.
"I'll never give in to you, bitch. Or the other one."
Leigh sighed, and ran her fingers gently down his chest.
"Maybe I do need a 'dicking'. Maybe I do."
"Fucking horny bitch. I knew it," Maurice said. He didn't even seem
concerned about her sudden change in demeanour. She could feel his
body tensing under her soft touch.
Kate's voice floated from the bed. "What are you doing, Leigh?"
Leigh sensed the other girl rising from the bed. Leigh ignored Kate
for a moment, turning her full attention to the man bound in front
of her.
She whispered to Maurice. "If I let you down, will you whip me?
Like I just did you?"
"And more, slut. I'll hurt you until you beg for more."
Leigh smiled, and her fingers trailed down his trunk, playing just
about his groin. Slowly, he pumped his hips. Kate stood to the side,
watching, fascinated and silent.
"I'd like that. Maybe you could do both of us? Together? Hurt us?
Give us what we need? What he won't give us?"
"Fucking dykes. Oh yeah. I'll make you both beg."
Leigh took a deep breath, and rubbed her breasts against the rougher
fabric of his shirt. Slowly, she allowed her hand to work under the
waistband of his pants. He pulled in his stomach a little to give
her more room. His penis was rock hard under his clothing. She
cringed, but let her fingers stroke slowly along his shaft.
"Suck it, slut. On your knees, and suck it."
Leigh began to fall to her knees, until Kate's voice rang quietly
from the side.
"Leigh!"
"Fucking cunt. Shut up. There's enough for the both of you."
Kate stared at him, and Leigh hesitated for a moment. She touched
her own breast for a second, teasing the nipple.
"Back down, slut. And maybe, when I'm free, I won't hurt you as
bad."
Leigh smiled.
"You want me?"
"Cunt."
She worked her hand down lower, tickling his balls.
"You want me? Or Kate?"
"I want. To. Choke. You. Both. Break. Your. Fucking. Fingers."
"What are we?"
"Cunts."
"I don't want you to call any girl a 'cunt' ever again. Understand?"
Leigh's voice grew harsher as her fingers continued to play with his
groin.
"Why not? That's what you fucking are. Cunt."
Leigh sighed, and began to close her fingers around his testicles.
He shifted his weight for a moment uncomfortably.
"What the fuck are you doing, you bitch?"
"Or bitch. Or slut. Or pussy. I'm Leigh, and she's Kate.
Understand?"
He shook his head. Her hand hurt, her fingers almost didn't listen
to the commands of her brain. She squeezed as best she could. Pain
flowed across his features.
"Fucking cunt."
"Leigh." She whispered her name, almost like a mantra. She squeezed
harder. He screamed as the pain settled into his being. He fought
desperately against the bonds holding him upright. The thin rope
miraculously held him. She could feel his penis wilting as the pain
reached his core. There was nothing for him but the pain of her
fingers.
"Cunt. Cunt. Cunt. Cunt. Cunt," he screamed.
She squeezed further, crying out as her own fingers protested. She
twisted, and he screamed again.
"Oh, God," he moaned.
"Leigh."
"Cunt," he whispered.
Crying out again, she tried to squeeze again, realised that she only
had one of his testes. She released him, and he sighed in relief,
but then she grabbed again, and twisted hard. For a moment, he
opened his mouth and no sound emerged.
"God. Oh, God. Stop."
"Is this how it feels when you whip a girl's breasts?"
"I don't know. Fuck. You have to stop."
"Leigh."
"Fuck. All right, you cunt. Leigh."
"Again, without the 'cunt'."
He screamed again as her fingers twisted him. Her fingers felt like
they would fall off, would cut open the sack of hidden skin and
release his balls into her palm, but somehow, she managed to
maintain the pressure.
"Leigh. Leigh. Is that what you want. Fuck. Fuck."
"And Kate. We're human beings. We might be naked, and we might be
female. But we're human beings. Not objects. Not cunts."
"Yes. Yes. Kate. I'm sorry."
Leigh pulled her hand out with a sense of relief. She wiped it on
his shirt as he slumped again in his bonds. She thought that he
might have passed out again, but after a moment he moaned.
Leigh stepped away, staring at the man.
Slowly, he raised his head to stare at her. His mouth pulled into a
grimace, partially of pain, partially of sadistic pleasure.
"Fucking cunt," he spat at her. Tears forming in her eyes, Leigh
turned.
<---===***===--->
Kate's foot rose almost without her conscious will. Later, she'd
realise that she'd meant to do it, wanted to do it, almost was
forced to do it. She wasn't proud of it, and in fact, later, felt
ashamed of her action. Her foot would ache afterward, throbbing in
pain, and guilt. Nevertheless, her foot rose, and landed squarely
where Leigh's hand had rested cruelly twisting the parts of a man
that should never be twisted.
They shouldn't be kicked either.
For a split second, she saw fear in his eyes; the same fear that
she'd glimpsed in Nicole's eyes as she scrabbled from in front of
the man. For a moment, only a moment, Kate felt blissful
satisfaction. He tried to twist, but the ropes wouldn't let him
remove himself from her path. She knew what that was like, being
restrained, and knowing there was nothing to be done. In the end,
he seemed to relax, almost push his groin towards her approaching
foot.
It felt like her foot was going to explode, from her bare toes, to
her calf, and his silent scream filled the room. She screamed in her
own pain.
When her foot fell back to the floor, she couldn't place her weight
on it; it throbbed and ached like a living thing, though she was
nearly sure that she hadn't broken it. There had been no sickening
crack as her foot has connected with Maurice, only blossoming pain.
Tears welled in her eyes, as she watched him collapse, his head
lolling forward, his eyes rolling back into his skull
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
<---===***===--->
The two girls, arms around each other, stumbled back to the small
single bed and collapsed to the floor to the side of it.
Without forethought, they fell into each other's arms, and simply
cried on the floor until they could cry no longer.
But with the tears came peace. Maurice didn't wake for a long, long
time. By then, they were no longer there. Exhausted, the girls fell
into a light sleep, their breathing soft and regular. Eerie silence
permeated the room.
Chapter 106
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"You didn't kill him, did you?"
Leigh shook her head, disoriented. Soft arms held her, and her legs
seemed to be entangled with someone else. Slowly, it came flooding
back to her, and tears flooded into her eyes. Kate stirred beside
her, and both girls looked up at their captor with bleary eyes.
"Who?" Though she knew perfectly well who.
"Maurice seems rather -- incommunicative."
Leigh sighed, and pushed herself into a sitting position. Kate's
arms reluctantly released her.
"I don't think we killed him. He was breathing when we collapsed
here." She didn't add the remainder. She didn't particularly care if
they had killed him.
The Timeman wandered over to the bound man, touching his bleeding
wrists.
"Seems like he got what he deserved," he remarked, wiping the blood
onto the man's shirt.
Leigh buried her face in her hands. Kate walked around, limping
slightly, to where Leigh sat.
"It's all right, Leigh. It's over."
The Timeman approached, and touched Kate's shoulder gently.
"Kate. Go wait in the kitchen. Okay?"
The redhead looked up, and seemed to consider a protest. Instead,
she straightened, adjusting her shoulders, unconcerned about the
effect it had on her bared breasts.
"Will you be all right, Leigh?"
The brunette nodded slowly without releasing her face from her
hands. Kate sighed, and padded towards the door. At the jamb, she
turned back to the Timeman.
"Don't hurt her? She's been through a lot."
"I know."
Kate nodded, and Leigh listened to the girl's footsteps as they
descended the stairs and then silence.
"You won't do that to us, will you?"
"What?"
"He tortured her. For fun. Not because she did anything."
"I know."
"I can understand rules, and punishment. I can even understand the
subtlety of control. I don't like it, but my body does. That I can
understand, even if it's not what I'm used to. He whipped her
because he wanted to. He nearly killed her."
"I'll stop him. On the main timeline."
"How?"
"One phone call to the right people. Easy. Won't save her today, but
soon."
Leigh nodded slowly. "We're nothing but animals to him. You take
away our freedom. You take our clothes, make us wear handcuffs."
"Yes."
"But you respect us. Somehow, you respect us for what we are."
"Not born slaves?"
"Not born slaves. Female human beings. To him, we're what's between
our fucking legs."
"I know. There's a lot of men like that."
She turned towards him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.
"You won't ever start calling us 'cunts', will you?"
He inhaled briefly and the sighed. "I don't even let you swear, if I
can help it. I doubt if I'll start calling you derogatory names. Not
necessary. Not for control. That crude fantasy is for people like
Mister Stephens over there."
Leigh glanced over at the man, her face grimacing. She flexed her
right hand, wincing at the pain. He seemed to understand, and rubbed
at her hand. She didn't pull her hand back.
"I made him apologise. He didn't mean it, but I made him say it."
"Good girl."
Quickly, he climbed to his feet and extended a hand. Leigh pulled
herself up and walked with him to the door. The man remained slumped
in his bonds, blissfully ignorant of how much he would ache when he
woke. Leigh was far too aware of her own discomfort. Her bare feet
whispered across the floor. The Timeman held the door open for her,
and she stepped out into the hallway.
"Why aren't you like him?" Leigh asked as they walked past the empty
bathroom.
He looked at her for a moment.
"Because I don't want to be," he said.
<---===***===--->
He sat in the chair that he'd formerly tied Kate into. The girls,
Leigh and Kate, moved around the kitchen, opening cupboards, and
locating various implements.
"You realise that I'm not much of a cook," Kate said.
He shrugged. "I can always punish you both if it turns out badly."
Kate paled, but smiled as he laughed gently.
He tuned out the clink of cutlery, and the banging of pots and pans.
He let his mind wander. He stiffened as he realised that the suite
still was unavailable to him. He pushed his senses towards the
former base of operations, seeing Mark's slow timeframe, but still
unable to see the newlywed wife. She should be there. He pushed
again. A glimmer of life emerged for but a second. He thought it
might be two people for a moment, but then the walls closed again,
and he reeled back.
He was about to extract, and determine if Kate and Leigh needed
anything before he set out, when Mark's slow timeframe shimmered and
stuttered. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. No doubt about it. The
man's time bubble had shifted from his control. He pushed back,
struggling with an interfering force. He could overwhelm the force,
if he tried hard enough, but it was an effort at this distance. The
time bubble slipped in sync for a moment with the secondary
timeline. His body felt drained, tired with the effort.
"Shit," he muttered. He felt a presence, an overriding influence.
With a soft cry, he pushed again. Mark slipped back for a moment,
then skipped back into sync.
He could feel the other presence weakening, almost crying out in
pain and frustration. Mark remained unfrozen for a few seconds, and
then, almost without any real effort, the Timeman forced Mark back
into the slower time frame. The interference pushed one last time,
and then collapsed. Whoever she was, she wasn't as strong as he.
With a start, he realised that the interference, the other, had a
distinctly feminine sense. He couldn't explain it, but somehow, he
knew. It was a girl. The knowledge made him feel a little better.
When he opened his eyes, perspiration dotted his brow, the girls
stood quietly watching him.
"What's wrong?" Kate asked worriedly.
"Is it Maurice?"
He laughed, though he didn't think it was funny. Not in the
slightest. "It wasn't Maurice."
Kate nodded, and but didn't turn back to her task. Leigh did.
"Sir?"
He turned towards her, his voice clipped and tense.
"What is it?"
"Is everything all right? Are we in any danger?"
He shook his head. No danger. None. Of that, he was sure. He didn't
understand, and that frightened him, and he had a sense of impending
collapse of the timeline, but it was only a dim sense. He shook his
head again.
"So we should make dinner. We'll be here that long?"
He laughed. "We'll be a long while, yet. Not to worry."
Kate looked a little crestfallen, but then she looked up. Her face
had regained the beauty of simple freedom of decision. Her red hair
framed her features like a halo.
"Um," she said, her face screwing up with a little worry. "Can I
ask something without you freaking out?"
"Freaking out?"
"We don't ask for much."
"Yes, you do, but what is it?"
Kate hesitated for a moment, but then continued. "Aprons."
"Aprons?"
"Leigh and I are kind of naked here, and if we're going to be
cooking, it might be nice not to have hot stuff spatter on us. These
are kind of sensitive," Kate said as she pointed unselfconsciously
at her rising nipples.
He laughed. "All part of being a slave girl."
Leigh turned at that, with a worried look on her face. He smiled at
her, and she relaxed, turning back to hunting for pasta somewhere.
Kate nodded, though she was obviously disappointed. "I guess we'll
just be careful."
<---===***===--->
The girls stood quietly in front of him. Kate held a pair of tongs
in her right hand, Leigh held a Teflon coated pan.
"How long until dinner will be ready?" he asked the girls.
"Half an hour?"
"I need longer than that."
"I'm hungry," Kate said quietly. As if to prove her words, her belly
rumbled. Leigh echoed the sentiment.
He shook his head, resigning them to wait.
"I have to go out for a couple of hours."
"Where?"
"Somewhere with Monique." Kate lifted her eyebrows, but didn't say
anything further. "I'm going to leave the two of you relatively
free. Make sure that Nicole is all right, and make sure that you get
dinner ready in a couple of hours. Understand?"
The girls nodded together.
He motioned them forward, and each held out her wrists without
comment. He slipped the handcuffs on them, but not tightly. Leigh
twisted her wrists in the bonds for a moment, then sighed.
"Making dinner like this will be a challenge."
"You're bright girls. You'll manage."
"I suppose we will."
<---===***===--->
He stood in front of Monique, who slowly folded over a page in her
book and lowered it beside her.
"Can I help you?" she asked quietly. Nicole remained on the floor
reading, and Andrea watched from the sofa opposite. The music had
changed to some Elton John.
Without answering her, he reached down, and grasped her right ankle.
She extended her leg, shivering as he released her ankle. He touched
her shoulder, and she rose to her bare feet eyeing him suspiciously.
"Where are we going?"
"Outside."
She stepped backward, one step. "Has it finally come to this?"
He turned to face her. As he turned, he noticed Andrea watching with
some interest. Even Nicole had forgotten about her book.
"Come to what?"
"You release me, separate me from the rest of them, maybe tie me to
a tree. Rape me." She said it calmly, though her body trembled as
she stood naked in front of him.
He nearly laughed, but Andrea beat him to it.
"Don't be silly, Monique. If he wanted to rape you, he'd already have
done it." The blonde girl eyed him meaningfully. "Or he'd have let
me finish blowing him in the shower." It was as if the college
student was prodding him, reminding him that Monique wasn't the girl
to be pressing for sex. Andrea had made it clear, earlier, that she
would be willing and able, if it came to that. Of course, he could
force any of them, but it wouldn't come to that, would it?
Monique's eyes widened a little, but she didn't relent.
"Are you going to rape me? I just want to know what to prepare
myself for."
He did laugh. "Turn around."
She looked at him for a minute, then slowly turned her back. At his
request, she simply held her wrists for him to cuff behind her back.
"I don't want to be raped," she whispered.
"He won't rape you," Andrea said quietly. She shut up when he cast
her a warning glance.
"We're just going for a walk. That's all."
Monique eyed him suspiciously, but then began to walk from the room.
She looked like a prisoner, approaching the firing squad wall.
Chapter 107
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The mansions stood silently, like sentinels beneath the sprawling
elms to each side. He walked with Monique beside him down the middle
of the road, dodging the odd Jaguar and Ferrari. At last, she
stopped. After a few steps, he turned to face her. She stood above a
service cover, the metal of it gleaming in the noon day sun. It
didn't feel like noon, but the sun didn't know that.
"Come on," he said.
Monique trembled, but didn't move.
"It's hard walking like this."
"Like what?"
"Naked, with my hands behind me. I'm not going to attack you, or
anything. Can't we release these damn cuffs?"
He slowly shook his head. "I like you like that."
"Helpless?"
He considered that for a moment, then nodded. She sighed, and took a
few steps to catch up with him. When she neared him, she halted
again.
"Can I at least walk on the grass then?"
"Grass? Why?"
She looked down at her bare feet, and then at his running shoes.
"You've got shoes on," she said.
"Yes, and you don't."
She nodded. "Asphalt isn't the easiest on bare feet. If you won't
let me wear shoes, at least let me walk in the grass. Please? I
don't mind being barefoot, but ..." He smiled, and nodded.
"Thank-you," she said. She turned, and walked to the edge of the
pavement.
The road didn't have sidewalks, not in this part of town, so one
step, and her bare feet settled into the grass. She sighed, and
began to walk again. For a moment, he watched as her bare form
stepped almost happily through the grass, her face tilted up to
catch the rays of the overhead sun.
She paused, and turned, catching him watching her. She raised her
eyebrows as if to say, "and just what are you staring at." He
hurried to catch up with the girl, and settled into an easy pace,
matching her through the grass.
<---===***===--->
"We can take any car we want," she said. He nodded, puzzled. "Then
why are we here?" He shrugged. "It'll be ten times harder to drive
one of these things through this stopped traffic, you know."
"I don't think we'll be taking it for a ride," he muttered.
She sighed, resigning herself to the darkness of his whims. Monique
looked up as he mounted the stairs leading into the frozen bus. She
watched a girl, perhaps seventeen, that was about to embark. She was
pretty -- brunette and young. Monique hoped that the Timeman hadn't
seen her, but knew better. There was little that the Timeman didn't
see.
Monique shifted her weight from bare foot to bare foot. He appeared
near the fare box, motioning Monique inside.
"Why?"
"It's -- interesting in here."
"I don't have fare."
He looked surprised for a moment, then laughed. He motioned her
forward.
Interesting? She didn't like the sound of that. Not one bit, but
glancing around, she knew that she really had little choice. Her
heart began to beat harder in her chest as her bare feet climbed the
two steps, the cleats of the rubber lining the steps pressing
painfully into her soft soles. The rubber was far harsher than the
grass had been.
She stopped at the top, glancing through the bus. He was at the
back, glancing at the passengers. The bus driver, a striking middle
aged woman, reached out, frozen, about to operate the door with a
large looped handle.
"Where are we going with this thing?"
The bus seemed like a whale, and she Jonah, but it wasn't crowded at
the time of day that it had left the timeline.
"We're not going anywhere. Have to be home in time for dinner. Or
Leigh and Kate will freak out."
Monique nodded. Up until now, she hadn't really realised that she
was hungry. Her belly shifted, as she pulled at her handcuffs
carefully. And since when did he care if the girls under his 'care'
freaked out?
He approached the naked girl, and gently turned her around.
He unclipped her hands, leaving one side of the cuffs dangling from
her right wrist. Without a word, he guided her midway to the back of
the bus. The rubber non-slip flooring felt strange beneath her feet,
but it wasn't as uncomfortable as the stairs. She couldn't recall if
she'd ever been on a bus barefoot before. She didn't think so.
"Grab the bar."
"What?"
He pointed. A bar, meant to be held by standing passengers, ran
along the length of the bus. She hesitated, anticipating his intent.
"You don't have to tie me to the damn thing. I won't interfere with
whatever you have planned."
He sighed. "I know. Grab the bar."
She still hesitated. "Why?" He didn't answer. "Why do you want to
tie me up?"
He laughed quietly. "Why do you think?"
"I don't know." It was a lie. She knew exactly why he wanted her
restrained. It wasn't because she'd interfere otherwise -- she
wouldn't and he knew that. Control. He wanted to exert his control
over her. That's why he handcuffed her to walk down the street.
That's why he'd taken her clothes. That's why he kept her off
balance mentally. She hated to admit it, but it was effective. She
felt controlled.
Slowly, she reached up and clasped the stainless steel bar in both
hands. Shivering, she allowed him to place the cuffs about her
wrists again, preventing her from moving. The bar was high, and she
raised herself automatically on her toes to compensate. He stepped
back and admired her.
She flushed. "Monique Pelletier, the big lawyer. Some lawyer," she
muttered. He laughed, but not unkindly.
He sat in an unoccupied seat for a moment near her.
"Are you aroused, Monique?"
His question seemed strange, and she hesitated before answering him.
She glanced down at herself, wondering what had sparked the
question. Her nipples had erected, but that was most likely the
coolness of the spring day. He wore clothing, of course, so the air
probably felt a little cooler to her. She concentrated a little
more. Perhaps. Being naked and handcuffed in a public bus was
perhaps a little arousing. The tingle between her legs confirmed it,
but she willed away the sensations of her body. She debated telling
him the truth, but opted for the safer course. Nothing good could
come of admitting that she might be enjoying her exposure, at least
a little.
"Are you crazy?"
He smiled. "Perhaps. I'm not trying to justify taking you, or trying
to convince myself that it would fine to rape you. I'm trying to
figure out if time manipulation causes changes in hormone levels."
Her mind whirled for a moment. Then she asked a critical question.
"Is it affecting you?"
He turned away at that, and lifted himself from the seat. He
approached, with a thin smile on his lips. Monique shivered, but
didn't try to twist as he reached for her; he traced her skin from
the base of her throat, between her bare breasts, stopping at her
belly button. Monique groaned, and he smiled again.
"I think I know my answer."
Monique shuddered, and flushed, turning her face from his. She
heard him turn, and walk towards the front of the bus.
<---===***===--->
"Please, what do you want?"
The frightened feminine voice came from outside the bus. Monique
opened her eyes, and watched as the young girl from the bus stop
stumbled up the stairs, tears falling down her face, her hands
grasping at the hand rails to steady her. A moment later, the
Timeman appeared, holding a gun aimed at the girl's face.
The girl shivered, but didn't fall.
"Name?"
The girl hesitated, crying harder.
He touched her temple with the gun, and she shrank back.
"Please don't hurt me. Please. I haven't done anything to you."
"What is your name?"
The girl remained silent, and scared. Her eyes never left the gun.
Monique sighed, and called out.
"Tell him your name, and he won't hurt you," she said quietly. Her
voice carried well through the tunnel that was the bus. The girl
turned. Her pretty face was marred by tears, but she remained
attractive nevertheless. Her eyes widened at the sight of Monique
naked and handcuffed to the rails, and she cried out a little. She
turned back to the Timeman as he touched her shoulder with the gun.
"Why are you doing this? Who is she?"
"A smart woman. I won't hurt you if you do as you're asked."
"Melanie. Melanie Powers. Please. I don't want to die."
"Well, Melanie, I think it's time for you to give me your clothes."
<---===***===--->
A pile of Melanie's clothes lay crumpled at her bare feet. Still
crying, the girl shook as she dropped the last item of her clothing
into the pile. Her plain cotton bra joined the other fabric, and she
slowly sank to her knees.
"Gather up your clothing, and come with me."
"Outside?"
"Outside."
"But ... please let me get dressed. Please?"
He gave her a look, and the girl's eyes fell to the gun. Slowly,
she began to pick up her clothing.
"Leave her alone," Monique said quietly. Instead of acknowledging
her, the Timeman rose and opened a window, letting a cool breeze
flow over Monique. When he turned, his newest captive stood naked,
holding her clothing across her heaving chest.
"Leave her alone. I'll do whatever it is you want."
He shook his head, and approached the girl. Melanie shivered, but
walked ahead of him towards the front of the bus.
"Please," she begged. But he didn't relent, and Monique watched as
he forced the girl to kneel on the sidewalk. She looked up at him,
her eyes wet and pleading.
"Please don't rape me. Please. Please. I'm only seventeen."
He smiled and crouched in front of the girl. His smile almost seemed
kind, if it weren't for the gun still aimed at her naked body.
Slowly, she dropped her clothing to the sidewalk in front of her.
"There are worse things than rape, Melanie."
The girl shivered, and hung her head, weeping. He handed her
something, and she took it, her eyes questioning.
"What do you want me to do with this?"
"You have a choice, Melanie. Do what I want, and you'll survive
this."
"What do you want me to do?" The girl's voice was losing its edge,
falling dangerously low into the realms of quiet acceptance.
"It's a lighter, Melanie. I want you to burn your clothes."
She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. "But, those are designer
jeans. They cost ... I saved for a month. Please no."
"We could stuff them in the gas tank of the bus, and you can let me
light it."
The girl glanced at the bus. Inside, Melanie shivered. She didn't
think that the Timeman meant to release her from the cuffs before he
created the world's biggest Molotov Cocktail. And though she didn't
believe that he'd roast her alive in here, she wouldn't want to test
the theory. Melanie knew even less of the man, than Monique did.
"The girl ..." Melanie whispered.
"Or we could tie you up and see what the lighter does to your
breasts."
Melanie paled, and swallowed heavily. Tears fell constantly from her
eyes.
"I'll do what you want. Just don't hurt me. Please."
He smiled, and watched as the girl pushed her clothes into a neat
pile. With one last pleading look, she spun the flint and stared at
the small flame. She leaned down, and surprisingly quickly, the
clothing caught, and smouldered. Soon, blue flames spouted, and the
girl backed away from the pile, tears flowing as her expensive jeans
reduced to black ashes.
"Please just let me go?" she whispered.
But he grasped her upper arm, and almost yanked her to her feet.
Crying, she stumbled back up the stairs. This time, she wasn't able
to keep her balance, and she sprawled onto the floor, her breasts
and tummy pressing against the rubber.
"Please, just let me go?"
<---===***===--->
"You didn't need to do that," Monique whispered. "She would have
done what you wanted without making her burn her own clothing." Her
mind wandered to her own designer suit, lying somewhere crumpled in
Blake's office. She doubted if she'd ever see it again -- at least
not until he tired of the girls and returned them to blissful
forgetfulness.
He shrugged.
"Don't you care if you are hurting her? What if she was Nicole?"
"She won't ever know it happened to her."
"Why are do doing this? For my benefit? I remember, okay? I remember
crawling around an office, Johnson following me with his eyes. I
remember you punishing me, tying me to a chair. I can't forget.
Okay? You don't need to do this. Not for me. You don't need to do
this to control me. I'll do whatever the hell it is you want."
He smiled. "I'm not doing this for you."
"Then why am I here?"
He didn't answer her, but turned towards the girl, reaching down,
and almost tenderly helping her to her bare feet.
<---===***===--->
Her hands fought the handcuffs, moaning. Her feet were spread, tied
to seats on either side of the aisle of the bus. The naked girl
fought to release some of the pressure on her arms, alternately
rising up on her toes, and then lowering herself. The other frozen
passengers watched the girl struggle in the aisle without seeing.
Melanie struggled, her frightened eyes watching Monique.
"I'm sorry," Monique said. "If I could have stopped him, I would
have."
"Are you. Are you with him?"
"I'm as much a captive as you. I wouldn't choose to be here, if
that's what you mean. Melanie, just do what he says, and he'll let
you go home. It might be uncomfortable, but it won't last forever.
Try to remember that. I don't have that option, and I still
generally try to do what he says. Unless he asks me to hurt another
girl."
"This hurts," Melanie said. Her tears were beginning to dry.
Monique idly wondered where he had gone, but was in no rush for him
to return. "I know it does. I know."
The girls lapsed into silence.
<---===***===--->
He returned with two bottles of spring water. Melanie refused to
drink any, but Monique gratefully swallowed as he tilted the bottle
to her lips.
"What are you going to do, now?"
He smiled, and turned away. Monique watched over her bare shoulder
as he walked towards the back of the bus.
Chapter 108
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The girl was older, perhaps in college, but blonde, like Andrea, and
as scared as Melanie. She stripped and burned her clothing faster
and more cooperatively than Melanie had. Tears wet her face, as she
knelt in front of Melanie and accepted the handcuffs of her captor.
"What are you going to do?"
"Watch them for a while."
"You're a sick fuck," Monique said.
He nodded, seemingly unperturbed by her language this time. He
settled in a seat beside an old guy that looked like he was about to
expire. He closed his eyes for a moment, not even watching the girls
he was tormenting.
The blonde girl knelt and cried, but didn't speak. Melanie hung from
the rails seemingly dazed.
<---===***===--->
"Lick her."
"What? No."
He grasped the girl's blonde curls and bent her head back.
"Leave her alone. If you need to see girls having sex, you have four
at the mansion that will perform for you."
He turned to Monique and almost snarled at her. "Shut up."
Monique didn't, knowing that by speaking further she risked a gag,
or a strapping. But she couldn't watch as he tortured the girls with
sex.
"I'll do it. If you want someone to lick her, let me. Let one of
them go."
"You want to have sex with Melanie?"
"Not particularly. She's attractive, but you know I'm not gay."
The blonde girl was gasping on her knees, his fingers relentless in
her hair.
He shook his head slowly, and released the blonde girl's hair. He
approached Monique. "You don't even know her."
"It could have been me, long ago."
"You're not lesbian."
"She's probably not either."
The blonde girl moaned. Melanie shook her head from side to side.
Monique pulled half-heartedly at her bound hands.
"Let me go, and I'll do whatever it is that you want these girls to
do. Are you going to rape them? One after the other?" He shook his
head. "I'll let you rape me instead. Whatever way you want."
"You were frightened silly of it when we were in the living room."
"I still am."
"You don't even know these girls."
"I do. They could be me."
"You'd have sex with me, or one of them, to save one."
Monique nodded, but a single tear dripped from her eyes.
"Please, don't do this."
He pursed his lips, and then nodded slowly.
But when he turned around, the blonde girl had her face buried
between Melanie's spread thighs, her head bobbing. Melanie moaned
quietly, her body rigid and unmoving.
<---===***===--->
After a few minutes, he walked back to the bound girls, and touched
the blonde's head.
"It's okay. That's enough."
The naked girl looked ludicrously thankful, and her breath came in
short bursts. Melanie simply closed her eyes, as if only enduring
until the experience was over.
Before Monique's eyes, the blonde girl shimmered and then
disappeared.
Never even knew her name, Monique thought. Never even knew her name.
The handcuffs that the girl had worn clattered to the rubber.
<---===***===--->
The sound was familiar. Monique had heard it before, skin striking
skin.
Melanie cried out, but didn't scream. He struck the girl again, her
chest. Melanie's left breast danced above her exposed ribs, and the
girl moaned again.
Even from where she stood tied to the rail, Monique knew that he
wasn't really hurting the girl -- he could have, easily, but the
sound of his palm striking her was far worse than the reality of the
blows. Melanie wasn't screaming, only moaning.
"Stop hitting her," Monique said between blows. "Please."
He turned.
"Would you rather be hit? I won't be as gentle with you."
Monique paled, but nodded slowly. "Yes. You can hit me instead. Just
leave the girl alone. Please."
He turned towards Melanie. The girl's eyes blurred with tears, but
she stood up as straight as the ropes would let her.
"Please," she murmured.
After a moment, he sighed. "All right, but I am going to keep this
up, until you climax. If I don't think you're trying, I'll use my
belt." He reached towards the naked girl and teased her nipple.
Despite her obvious efforts to prevent it, her nipple rose in
response to his touch. He smiled, and then stepped away from her.
She slumped a little, at least as far as the ropes allowed.
"Do you understand?" he asked her.
Melanie, even though she obviously didn't understand, nodded
wearily.
<---===***===--->
Monique knelt quietly before Melanie. Her body pulsed, and she tried
to ignore the sensations. Perhaps the Timeman was right. Maybe it
was the situation, maybe it was the bondage, maybe it was the
exposure. She didn't know exactly. Maybe it was a flood of hormones,
over which she had no control. No matter the reason, she was unable
to completely quench the arousal she felt kneeling in front of
Melanie, her hands cuffed behind her bare back.
"I'm sorry," Monique said upwards. Melanie nodded, closing her eyes.
She understood. Despite her thrust into this strange world, she
understood.
Her scent and taste were sweet and musky. Monique thought that she
could even taste the other girl's, the blonde girl's, saliva. It's
only skin, and it wouldn't kill her.
Slowly, Monique reached out with her tongue, and lapped at the
swollen bundle of nerves that she hoped would make this quick and
relatively painless for the girl squirming above.
Melanie moaned, and pushed her hips downward.
<---===***===--->
It sounded more like leather striking bare flesh this time. Monique
glanced up, her mouth never leaving Melanie's sex.
Melanie screamed, her voice high and panicked.
Monique exhaled, feeling her breath reflected from the soft skin in
front of her face.
"Please no," she mumbled into Melanie.
The girl above her seemed to come alive after she recovered from the
belt across her breasts. She lowered her hips, rocking them,
moaning. The girl's spread thighs trembled beside Monique's ears.
Monique redoubled her efforts, forcing her rapidly numbing tongue to
find Melanie's clitoris, and stroking it at the rhythm that the girl
needed.
<---===***===--->
It wasn't a fake. Melanie's muscles contracted rhythmically about
Monique's tongue and lips. Melanie screamed, her voice crying out in
passion, and perhaps pain.
Monique wasn't sure, but she thought she might even have heard the
sharp sound of a palm striking a breast. She didn't want to know.
She kept her tongue lightly stroking the naked girl until her
shudders stopped, and Melanie gasped.
"I'm done. Please, God, I'm done."
<---===***===--->
Her breath came in short gasps, as if she'd been the one to be
forced into a climax. The blood pounded in her ears, and she pulled
weakly against the steel holding her wrists behind her back.
Wearily, she looked up at the Timeman who sprawled easily beside the
old guy, his legs comfortably reclined into the aisle only a metre
from Melanie's bare feet. He was watching Melanie with a look on his
face that reminded Monique of a cat that had caught its prey.
Melanie hung almost listlessly, whispering to herself, her chin
tucked to her chest, her eyes mostly closed. What she was
whispering was either a prayer, or soft muted cursing. Monique
couldn't tell which, but either was justified for the frightened
girl.
"It's enough. Let her go. She doesn't even understand why she's
here."
He swivelled easily to face Monique.
"Not you as well?"
"I'm not stupid. You won't let me go. But she's not part of this, is
she?"
He shook his head slowly. "She's stunning, and she's beautiful, but
no, I'm not going to keep her."
Monique breathed a sigh of relief. She glanced at Melanie, who
seemed to be ignoring the exchange deciding her future on this
timeline.
"Just let her go. Don't hurt her. Please?"
He nodded. Monique shuffled forward on her knees, her bare skin
scraping gently across the rubber ribs of the floor.
"I'll have sex with you, if you want. I'll do whatever you want.
Just don't make her suffer any longer."
"Would you let me ...," he thought for a moment, then smiled as if
from a former memory. "Tie you to a tree and tape lit cigarettes to
your nipples?"
Melanie moaned, shaking her head gently from side to side. Monique
sighed, and kept her eyes on his. She didn't attempt to rise from
her knees.
"You'll do that to me anyway, if you want." She paused, a tear
forming in her eyes. "If you have to hurt me, then yes. You can burn
my breasts if you'll let her go."
Her heart jumped as he nodded. She couldn't tell if he'd follow
through with the threat, but she was tired. She'd fight him at the
time, if he lit a cigarette in front of her. She glanced down at her
still heaving unmarked breasts.
When she looked back up, he was crouching in front of her. He
reached out, nearly gently, and cupped her chin. Monique sighed.
"You did well. Do you want to climax?"
(No. No. No. No. No.)
She hesitated, looked at his hands, one cupping her chin, one
resting on his thigh. His fingers, touching her body.
"Please," she whispered.
She began to shake her head, then with tears in her eyes, she nodded
once. He let her chin go, and her head dropped, but not before
catching his expression. He nodded thoughtfully, and then glanced
towards the naked girl tied to the bus that Monique had licked to
orgasm. The girl cried out once, and then shimmered. The ropes that
had held her fell quietly to the floor, and she was gone.
<---===***===--->
She twisted futilely at the bonds that joined her wrists behind her
back. The sunshine warmed her bare skin, as she nearly stumbled down
the steps of the bus.
Melanie's scent, and her taste, sat heavily on Monique's tongue, but
she couldn't do anything about that, not with her hands bound behind
her. She worked her jaw a little, but resigned herself to the
heightened state of arousal that the girl's scent washed through
her.
With a sigh, she stepped to the edge of the road. She would sense
him behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, he saw him pause. She
followed his gaze, and froze.
Melanie stood silently frozen, her right foot forward, her face
innocent. Only seventeen, she was ready for the world again in her
tight, expensive, designer jeans, and her loose blouse.
Monique knew what the girl looked like tied in a public bus,
moaning. She knew what she felt like when she climaxed, knew how she
cried, knew how she screamed. She knew what the girl looked like
naked, and what she tasted like.
Dirty and used. In some ways, Monique felt the emotions rushing
through her being -- unsure of whether she should have done as she
was bid, having sex with the girl, sacrificing her arousal for the
unnamed blonde girl. But she had, and that wasn't something that
she could reverse. She sighed inwardly.
She moved her tongue in her mouth. It was still a little sore from
licking the girl, but if she was honest with herself, she didn't
mind too much. Nobody had really gotten whipped, or hurt, or raped.
In that, there was a blessing. The blonde girl had escaped without
really experiencing the land out of time. And Melanie? She'd been an
actress in a warped fantasy. She was safe now, and for that,
Monique was perversely glad for her.
Monique sighed, and glanced away from the girl.
This world took some getting used to. Indeed it did.
Melanie stared off with her frozen eyes, blissfully unaware of what
she'd done -- what she'd been forced to participate in. Monique
wished fervently that she had the same options. Blissful ignorance
seemed distant, and far. She twisted her hands in her bonds again
until she heard his footsteps approach. At the touch of his fingers
on her bare shoulder, Monique stepped forward without looking
around.
"I miss her already," he said quietly. He seemed sincere, and his
voice nearly choked.
Monique's bare toes tickled through the grass as she began to walk
ahead of him northwards.
(I do, too. I do, too. I didn't know her long, but I knew her
name, and I knew her intimately. I do, too.)
Monique shivered in the noon sunlight that shouldn't be, and
carefully walked in the direction she was guided.
Yes, this world took some getting used to.
Chapter 109
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
He paused at the plate glass doors, almost as if he were too tired
to pull the entrance open.
"Too tired," he sighed. But she didn't think that he meant that his
arms were too tired to pull open the door. It sounded more general,
as if holding the timelines was a mental burden.
Monique didn't understand his words, but she didn't venture to ask.
He hadn't said a word since they left Melanie, and the bus, and
Monique had been satisfied to remain in her own thoughts as she had
walked through the grass, and now through the mall parking lot.
She glanced up. The entrance was painted blue, with a number
designating the entrance for shoppers to remember where they came
into the mall. She supposed that the average shopper could lose her
car, if she tried hard enough.
At last, the seemingly stubborn door swung outward, and Monique
sighed. She pulled at the cuffs holding her wrists, but stepped
across the threshold and into the coolness of the mall without
hesitation.
The air raised goosebumps across her belly, the noon sunshine not
reaching the interior of the building. Monique shivered, but placed
one bare foot in front of the other as he guided her down the mall
and around frozen shoppers.
<---===***===--->
She stood in front of a decorative fountain, the water frozen as if
an arctic breeze had washed across its surface. Above her, balloons,
rising on pillars of heated air and guided by almost invisible
wires, floated unmoving and silent.
"Why are we here?" she asked quietly, not turning around to face
him.
"Have to rest for a minute," he said.
She turned worriedly. "Is something wrong?"
She wasn't as concerned about his well-being as her own. If he
passed out, which he looked like he was close to, then what would
become of her? Would she be doomed to wander the mall, naked and
cuffed until she starved?
Slowly, he shook his head. "Just need to sit down for a minute."
She watched him skeptically, but didn't ask anything further. He
closed his eyes, and swayed on his feet. She had no way of catching
the man if he tumbled, but fortunately, she was spared the decision.
Her voice cried out, and she jumped as the sounds of splashing water
carried forward from behind her. The sounds of balloons rising on
their columns of air, filled her ears. She spun, as if a dangerous
animal were crouched behind her.
"Get in," he said.
She turned back towards him.
"What?"
"Get in."
"Where? The fountain?"
He nodded.
"What? Why?"
He shrugged, producing the key to her cuffs from his pocket. She
automatically turned around, and presented her hands to him, sighing
as the steel left her wrists.
"Go," he said, giving her shoulder a little push.
She shook her head, and turned to face him again. He looked pale and
exhausted. With her hands free, she considered what it might take to
tackle him to the ground. Then she glanced down at her nudity, and
sighed. The size difference wouldn't make it much of a fight -- even
if he didn't simply freeze her and then whip her for disobeying.
"Tell me why. Please?"
Instead, he glanced around the fountain. A young mother was walking
a carriage, approaching the fountain. A grandfather watched his
granddaughter as she knelt in front of the splashing water, face
uplifted fascinated by the balloons above.
"Monique, I can probably get her," and he pointed to the young
mother with the carriage, "to get in the fountain, just to prevent
me from picking up her baby."
Monique paled. The implied threat, of course, was that she would get
to watch it from a ringside seat, perhaps tied to one of the
benches.
"I'll go," she said quietly. "You don't need to do that. I just want
to know why. Please."
He sighed. "Sometimes there isn't a reason. You do things because I
merely want you to."
With another sigh, Monique turned and stepped over the low wall,
tiled in ugly brown ceramic. She jumped as her bare toes touched the
water.
She hissed, "It's cold. Please."
But when she turned to face him, his face carried a look that would
not be denied. She shrugged, and steeled herself.
The water wasn't deep, only up to her calves. Pennies, and nickels,
wishes from children and mothers, kissed the bottoms of her feet as
she walked carefully through the splashing water to stand near the
centre of the fountain. She placed her hands on her hips, and again
faced him. A trick of the light made it look like the little girl,
perhaps four years old, was looking at her, eyes wide. Monique
flushed, and nearly covered herself as best she could with her
hands. Instead, she turned her gaze from the child, and watched as
the Timeman settled into his dry bench, his eyes on her naked form
standing in the middle of the fountain.
"Why?" she asked.
"You know why," he said easily, crossing his arms across his chest.
He looked drawn and almost haggard. He closed his eyes, not even
watching her suffering.
She supposed that she did, know why. The age old mantra. Control.
He had her under his control, and she couldn't do a damn thing about
it.
She shivered, and wrapped her arms around her chest, carefully
keeping them under her breasts. She didn't need him to think she was
trying to hide her body from him. She wasn't. She'd have used the
same pose even if she'd been in a bikini. The cold permeated her,
rising up her legs like the warmer air lifting the balloons
rhythmically above her.
"It's cold in here," she said. "How long do you expect me to stand
here?"
He opened his eyes briefly, coughed, and closed his eyes again.
"Sit down."
"What?"
"Sit down. In the water. Now."
"But ..."
"Monique?"
His voice carried conviction. She knew, all at once, without further
protest, that one way or the other she would be sitting in the
fountain, cold, naked and wet. This way, it would be more her
choice, rather than being forced into it by way of the young mother
with the carriage. Monique closed her eyes for a moment; the image
of the mother tied and naked, begging for mercy as he whipped the
girl flooded her mind. The image had come far too easily.
With a sigh, and jumping with the discomfort, she settled her bottom
into the water. For a moment, she worried about the cleanliness of
the water that rushed up between her thighs to caress her more
private regions. The fountain should be clean, she told herself,
children can touch this water. Irony, she thought, I'm probably the
dirtiest thing that has touched this water today.
She reached down and picked up two coins. One was a quarter, the
other a penny. Twenty-six cents. She rubbed them together, touched
them to her lips, and tossed them easily over her shoulder.
She shivered miserably. Wishes rarely come true.
<---===***===--->
She climbed from the water, shivering, and naked, and expecting him
to put the cuffs back onto her wrists. He didn't, but she had no
way of drying herself, either.
She hugged herself, and fervently wished that he would climb into
the wishing fountain himself, just to see how uncomfortable cold
water in the middle of a mall was.
She sighed. That wasn't likely to happen either, was it? At least
he hadn't forced her to dunk her head. For some reason, though, her
skin tingled, as if she'd just emerged from a bathtub of hot water.
The shivering slowly subsided as she fell into an easy stride, her
arms free to balance her as she walked. Her feet left small wet
patches across the marble tiles of the mall as they moved deeper
within. The water from her skin slowly evaporated into the silent
air.
<---===***===--->
All the women wore the latest fashions here -- expensive designer
clothes, and expensive shoes. The clothing only served to contrast
against Monique's nudity, but she tried to keep her discomfort in
check, trying to remember that none of the haughty looking women
could see the naked girl walking around their frozen forms.
Ultimately, they wore the types of clothes that Monique had in her
former life -- impressionable clothing, power clothing. Now, she
wore nothing -- a naked animal. No more.
(No. Much more.)
Monique lifted her chin, only a touch so as not to attract his
attention. She walked on, her feet dry now, and whispering across
the marble.
<---===***===--->
"Here?" Monique asked incredulously. He merely nodded. "Do you know
how expensive the clothes here are?"
He smiled, waiting for her to realise something.
"Oh," she finally said. "What do you care?"
"Precisely."
She stepped across the threshold. She expected to hear the muted
warble of a light beam alarm, announcing the arrival of another
customer to the sales staff. The marble changed to simulated
hardwood under her bare feet, but she hardly noticed. They were the
only patrons of the frozen store. Only one bored looking, well
dressed, sales girl stood lounging near the cash register.
"Do we need help?" he asked Monique as she wandered through the
store. The clothes looked frozen, but each time she touched a gown,
or a blouse, or a sweater, the fabric seemed to flow into life and
caress her bare skin.
"Depends on what you want, I guess."
"I want two dresses."
Her eyes lit up. "For who?"
"For whom."
She didn't even bother trying to look like a chastened student.
"Whom, then."
Instead of answering her, he asked another question. She was growing
accustomed to this, and didn't bother repeating her own question.
He'd answer it in his own time, if she was to know the answer.
"Would you say the girls are the same size?"
"What girls?"
"You. Andrea? Kate? Leigh?"
She thought back. Women noticed these things, and weren't bad, in
general, at guessing dress sizes. She, herself, rarely bothered with
such things, but being naked, and in the company of naked girls, one
couldn't help but notice body types and sizes. Each girl that he'd
taken was stunning physically, she knew, and though there were
individual differences, breast size, and hair colour, each had the
same basic body type and size, including herself. She didn't
consider herself stunning -- she didn't know why he'd taken her, but
her body size was comparable to Kate, or Leigh. She idly wondered if
such things said anything about her captor.
"We're all about the same size. Andrea might be a little taller."
He glanced meaningfully at the bored sales girl.
"Should I get her to strip and help us?"
Monique shook her head quickly. "What do you want me to do?"
<---===***===--->
She picked up the two long black evening gowns, draped them over her
left arm, and turned towards the back of the store.
"Where are you going?" he asked, a note of patience in his voice. He
sat easily in one of the courtesy chairs that normally husbands, or
bored boyfriends, might normally occupy while the girl would try on
fancy, overpriced fabrics.
"The dressing room?" she said quickly.
He laughed and raised his eyebrows.
"You want me to change here?"
He laughed again. "Change? Monique ..."
She felt like slapping her forehead, but she didn't. "I'm not
dressed anyway." Slowly, she returned the longer of the two dresses
to the rack, draping it to keep the tail of it off the ground. She
glanced around, almost as if to ensure that nobody was watching her.
Of course, nobody but him was.
She pulled the first gown easily over her hips, and sighed as she
slipped her arms through the spaghetti straps. It would fit better
if she were allowed a push up, but overall it draped about her body
like a dream. She sighed again, raised her arms and spun slowly.
"It'll do," he said easily. She flushed, and turned back to face
him. The simple fabric, even with the lack of underclothing or
shoes, felt wonderful against her skin. It had only been a day or so
without, but the simple act of covering her nudity felt --
liberating.
"Next," he said.
She swallowed, and blushed, but without hesitation, she slipped the
gown back from her body. It felt wrong, stripping in the middle of
the store, somehow worse than simply walking in without clothes, but
she did it. She draped the gown over another rack, and picked up
the next one. She turned to him.
"Can you tell me who it's for?"
He shook his head. "Why?"
(Because I want to know? That's why?)
"Um. This one is larger than I am. Up top. If it's for Kate, or
someone larger than me, it should fit fine, if it's for me," she
said with an edge of hopefulness, "then a smaller busted one might
be better."
"Try it on."
She shrugged, and repeated her earlier motions, drawing the gown up
her bare body until it sat around her breasts. It didn't have
straps, and flushing, she realised that it might not stay up. She
gathered in the bust line with her fingers, and slowly spun for him.
When she stopped turning, he was watching her with some interest.
"It would look better if I was, um, bigger, and if I was allowed
some shoes."
He smiled gently at her. "It looks fine. You can take it off now."
She didn't move, her fingers clutching the fabric tighter to her
skin. She slowly shook her head.
"Please. I know it doesn't even fit me properly, but can't you let
me wear it -- just a little longer."
He seemed to consider it for a moment, and her heart began to beat
faster. The fabric swirled about her legs.
"Would you have sex with the sales girl?"
She stepped back a pace, her eyes widening.
"You're asking me to have sex with her in exchange for wearing this
gown?" He nodded, his lips set in a serious smile. "You're giving
me a choice? Why?" He shrugged. "You could make me do it anyway."
"But I'm not. If you want to wear the dress, for a while, you have
to have sex with the sales girl." He leaned back in the chair. "If
not, then take off the dress. Simple."
"Why? What do you expect me to say?" Her hand trembled above her
breasts. Her eyes narrowed. "Are you going to hurt her?"
He shrugged easily. "It might be necessary to make her strip so you
can play with her."
Monique paled, glancing at the sales girl standing blissfully
unaware of the conversation transpiring about her. She swallowed,
glancing back at the Timeman. She'd done it before, just an hour
ago, with Melanie, in fact. It was just skin.
(Just skin.)
But the girl. The girl. How could she justify it to the girl.
Monique clenched the gown tighter around her body for a moment, as
if savouring it's touch against her skin. A single tear traced down
her face.
"I really have a choice?"
He nodded. The others hadn't been by choice. She'd been naked, and
tied. There was a reason beyond her own comfort to offer herself for
the blonde. He'd forced her with the younger associates way back in
an office nearly forgotten. She trembled, but released the gown. It
hung on her for a moment, as if it were reluctant to leave her skin.
But in the end, gravity won, and it slipped down her body to lie
crumpled at the floor.
She was naked again.
She bent and gathered up the black fabric, and draped it over her
arm. She took the other one, too, and wandered over to the cash desk
to find something to wrap them in.
The sales girl stood silently leaning bored against the counter, as
Monique stared at her pretty face. A tear traced down Monique's
face.
<---===***===--->
The boxes lay at her right thigh as she knelt in the corridor
outside the store. Mostly women shoppers surrounded her; had they
been unfrozen, they would have been astounded at the former lawyer
naked and weeping and begging amongst them.
"Please. Please. Please. I'll take them off before we get back. I
swear it."
He looked down at her.
"I'll do whatever you want. I'll have sex with you. I'll do
whatever you want. I'll crawl for you." She didn't know if she would
go that far, not willingly, not for mere clothing, but after the
gowns had slipped into the boxes, hidden from her view, the memory
of the kiss of the fabric against her skin flooded through her like
a tidal wave. Perhaps it was hormones, perhaps it was simply
tiredness with this game of cat and mouse, where she was doomed to
be the naked, caged, mouse, for eternity. "Please let me wear
something. Just for a little bit?"
"I let you wear something, in the store, Monique."
Tears traced down her cheeks. She stopped herself from crawling
across the floor to kneel at his feet. But only by a slim margin.
"I'll do whatever you want."
He looked thoughtful. Then he smiled.
"We've been through this. You could fuck the sales girl, for me."
Monique paled. "You could whip Kate when we get back. Have sex with
Leigh. Then I'd let you dress -- for five minutes. No more."
Monique swallowed, crying harder. She nearly agreed. She had nearly
agreed. Instead, she slowly shook her head, and gathered up the
boxes, cradling the clothing that she'd never be allowed to wear in
her arms.
When she looked up, she wiped the tears from her cheeks.
"You are a bastard. You know that? I'm human, just like you."
He smiled a little, but then turned away from her. She regretted
begging already -- so regretted it. But what else did she have? At
the moment, not even her self-respect.
Still naked, she had to run to catch up to him.
Chapter 110
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"Going to tease me some more?" Monique asked bitterly.
He didn't answer her, but led her into a designer shop catering to
teenage girls. Normally loud bass music would be pounding from
hidden speakers, enticing the mindless crowds of fashion females to
part with Daddy's cash for overly tight jeans, and loose blouses.
Her thoughts turned to Melanie for a moment, then retreated as he
picked through a rack of Levis.
"What size is your waist," he asked.
Sullenly, she told him, and he extracted a pair of white jeans from
the rack. The jeans tapered -- not a style she would normally pick
for herself. He gently took the boxes from her and placed them on a
shelf, on top of some purple sweaters. He held out the jeans for
her.
She reached out and draped them over her arm, like she had the
gowns. Silently, he turned from her and wandered towards the back of
the store. She waited, not following. It didn't appear that he
expected it. She followed him with her eyes, shifting her weight
from bare foot to bare foot.
When he returned, he held up a purple silk blouse, that actually
would go with the jeans.
"Aren't you going to put them on?" he said mildly. He settled into
another of the boyfriend courtesy chairs in front of her.
She slowly shook her head. "You can make me, I suppose, but I don't
want to do it. I can't."
"Can't do what?"
"Put them on only to have you take them away."
"What if I didn't take them away until we left the mall."
She swallowed heavily. "Don't tease me. Please. It's not fair. I
don't want it badly enough. I won't have sex for the privilege of
wearing some cloth on my body. I won't hurt anyone else. Please
don't do this."
"I can make you put them on."
"I know. Please, I don't want to do it."
"Monique," he said more gently. "If you don't want to put them on, I
won't make you. I appreciate that you helped me with the gowns. I
know I could have forced the issue, forced you to be a mannequin.
All it would have taken was a pair of handcuffs, and a crop. Call it
a gift of appreciation. Until we reach the parking lot."
"You're going to let me wear clothes?" A note of incredulity edged
into her voice.
"Well, jeans and blouse, yes. I'm afraid they don't seem to carry
panties, or bras, and I don't want you in socks or shoes."
"You're kidding. No strings?" She didn't care about underclothing,
or shoes. In fact, going barefoot wasn't all that bad for her, if he
didn't force her to walk on asphalt.
He nodded carefully. "But you don't have to dress if you don't
want."
She nearly ran to hug and kiss him, but she refrained, trying to
remind herself that he'd stripped her in the first place.
Her hands shook as she drew the jeans up her legs. The fabric felt
more like satin than denim to her. She sighed as she straightened.
She tugged at the waistband of the pants. They were snug but not
overly so. Simply more snug than she was used to.
"Take them off," he said.
She whirled, her eyes flashing anger. "Please, no. I can't believe I
fell for that. Please."
"Relax. They aren't tight enough. I'm just going to get you another
pair."
"Please. They fit." She raised her arms, not caring that she was
still topless, and pirouetted for him. "See?"
"Take them off, Monique."
Tears fell from her eyes, but she willed her fingers to push the
denim from her hips and down her legs. She left the jeans crumpled
on the floor and waited for him to bring her another pair. When he
did, she looked skeptically at the tag. The waist was smaller than
the previous pair, might be too tight for her to button. But they
were covering, and even if they squeezed her in uncomfortable
places, she would try. She tugged them over her hips, and to her
surprise, the clasp engaged. She pulled in her tummy, and yanked up
the zipper.
In her former life, she would never have dared to wear jeans this
tight, but she was unreasonably grateful for the covering now. Her
thighs felt like they were encased in a second skin, and they
touched her intimately in places to make her blush. She didn't care.
Somehow, she knew that the second pair of jeans would be
satisfactory to him, and she slipped the blouse over her shoulders.
"Only two buttons, Monique."
She didn't care. The fabric felt like heaven to her bare skin. She
buttoned the two buttons between her breasts, the remainder of the
blouse fluttering as she moved. The looseness of the blouse
contrasted wonderfully with the tightness of the jeans.
He stood, and she picked up the boxes with the gowns within.
It felt odd walking barefoot through the mall, but so much better
than naked. She sighed as he took her hand and guided her back
towards the fountain.
<---===***===--->
The sounds of the fountain tumbled through the otherwise silent air.
Monique glanced at the sparkling water, and the coins within. She
shook her head once, thinking about what she had probably looked
like, sitting naked amongst the fountains like a decorative, but
alive, statue.
She shook her head, as she nearly collided with her captor.
"Oof," she breathed, but managed to get her hands in front of her
enough so that she didn't knock him over. "What?" she asked
quietly.
She followed his gaze, and swallowed heavily.
"You can't be serious. Haven't you had enough for one day? What do
you want with her? Please, can't we just go home?"
He laughed, and turned towards Monique.
"It's never enough ..."
Monique sighed and closed her eyes. "It's never enough until your
heart stops beating?"
He nodded with a vague smile, seemingly surprised that Monique had
recognised the reference.
"She's a new mother, even you can see that. Why torture her?"
"Who said anything about torture?"
"Call it a precedent."
"Always a lawyer."
Monique flushed; it had been days since she had thought of herself
as a successful lawyer. Her struggle to survive, and remain with a
shred of her sanity, had pushed her former infatuation with her
career onto the back burners of her mind. Understandably, she
thought. How we change when we have to. She cleared her throat.
"What do you want from her?"
He smiled and shrugged. "I want to see her in the fountain."
"I've already done that trick for you. Remember. Cold water?
Goosebumps?"
He smiled again. "I want to see her in there instead."
"Why?"
"Control."
Monique hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Is this your way of
making me offer to take her place? It's not fair. If you want me to
wade for you in the middle of this stupid mall, I will. You don't
need to play these games."
He looked surprised, as if he didn't realise that he was being
transparent. Or perhaps, he hadn't considered that Monique would
offer herself in place of the young mother.
"You'd change places with her?"
"You know that I would. Stop it."
She reached from the buttons on the blouse, the first one coming
free before he stopped her.
"No, Monique. With your clothes."
She sighed, but quickly rebuttoned the blouse between her breasts.
She stepped over towards the fountain.
She shivered, thinking about the coldness of that water, and the
clammy feeling that the tight jeans would have on her. She turned
towards him, her eyes pleading with him. His visage fell impassive
upon her. She searched for some hint of sympathy, or relent, but
there was none.
She sighed again, and turned. She reached over tentatively, touching
her still bare toes to the water. She recoiled, her foot screaming
to avoid this. Her mind pushed her forward again.
"Monique?"
The girl stopped, her toes only millimetres from the water.
"Those clothes are going to be a bitch to get you out of if you get
them wet."
Confused, Monique shrugged. "So, now you want me in there naked,
again?" Her fingers rose to the blouse again, toying with the upper
button.
He motioned her back. Puzzled, but thankful for the reprieve, she
retracted her leg, and then walked quickly back to him.
"What now?" she asked wearily.
"Silly girl. I just wanted to talk to the mother -- not hurt her --
not turn her into a sex slave."
"Then why do that to me?" Anger flashed for a moment in her eyes,
but she quelled it. Anger here would get her into the fountain
faster than any other approach. Despite her feelings of limited
freedom, and his apparent kindness in the last half hour, she didn't
want to push things.
"Because you offered, and I did want you in the fountain. You
looked -- nice in there."
Monique sighed. A naked, controlled lawyer.
"What are you going to do?"
"Exactly what I was going to do before you interrupted me." He
motioned her back a little. "Stand there." Monique obeyed, stepping
back and away from him and then settling into an awkward standing
pose.
He turned towards the young mother. She awakened, glancing around
the strangely quiet mall. A baby's cry emerged from the carriage,
taking her attention.
"Hello," he said pleasantly. Monique watched him carefully. She
could see the butt of the handgun tucked into his waistband, but he
hadn't had to use it since the bus. He made no move towards it now.
The woman looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly. She glanced at
Monique, and then her eyes lingered on Monique's bare feet and
overly tight jeans with an mild expression of distaste. The girl was
dressed as Monique used to -- expensive dress, and heels. Monique
flushed, but held her tongue. The woman was probably disoriented,
and certainly didn't know that she'd been forced to dress this way,
which was far better than the alternative. Monique shifted her
weight from foot to foot nervously.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked. Her hands disappeared into the
carriage, lifting out a newborn. Monique saw his eyes shift to the
little one.
"No," Monique whispered. The woman turned towards Monique, mystified
by the odd pair. The Timeman cast Monique a glance, having obviously
understood Monique's comment.
"Is it a little boy or a girl?" Monique asked. She stepped in front
of the Timeman. The woman glanced at her, dropping her eyes to
Monique's bare feet for a moment, sizing her up, trying to determine
if she was dangerous or not. Monique fervently wished for her dress
shoes, or even a pair of sneakers. But that wasn't about to happen
was it, and it was ironic that Monique was the one the girl was
worried about.
"A girl," the woman said. "Two weeks old."
"Only two weeks?"
The woman nodded, grasping the baby protectively to her chest. She
glanced nervously at the Timeman, as if some maternal sense had
triggered alarm. She looked like she was ready to flee.
"She'd look nice, naked in the fountain," the Timeman murmured.
Monique doubted if the girl had heard the comment, but she whirled
anyway.
"I would have stayed all night in there if you'd told me. She's only
been a mother for two damn weeks. You're a sick fuck. You know
that?"
He stood laughing. "And she'd do anything for the baby. Probably
even have sex with you."
Monique paled. "Please," she begged. "Do you want me to crawl for
you? Give you a blow job? Let you tie me up for hours? Let you whip
me?" She paused, catching her breath. "I don't want any of that, but
I'll do it. You know that. Leave her alone. Please."
When Monique glanced over her shoulder, the young mother was
watching, her eyes wide and nearly panicked. Her arms held the baby,
who now was crying.
"Please," she whispered. "Not my baby."
Monique swallowed and moved closer to the Timeman, her breathing
quickened. "Even you can't be that sick. Please take me, do
whatever your sick mind comes up with. I'll do it for you. Just
leave her alone."
He nodded slowly, and turned towards the new mother, and the baby.
"What's her name?"
"Morgan," the mother said, her voice wavering. "Please don't hurt my
baby. She's Morgan."
"I won't let you hurt her," Monique said firmly. "You had better
kill me, if you lay a hand on that baby."
He laughed, and then, ignoring Monique, turned back towards the
mother. "I wouldn't dream of it. Tell Morgan to have a wonderful
life."
The mother was crying now, her mewls mixing with Morgan's tearless
wails. She nodded, her feet beginning to back away from the Timeman,
and Monique.
"Let her go," Monique whispered. "Please. She's scared."
The girl cried out for a moment, and a last cry from Morgan filled
the air. Then only the sounds of the fountain splashing vibrated the
air. The woman again stood blissfully unaware of her ordeal, her
hand upon the handle of the carriage.
"Thank-you," Monique said quietly. "Do you want me to go swimming
now? Or not?" She took a deep breath and held it.
He slowly shook his head with a smile that reminded her of the
smiles of triumph that appeared in old gladiator movies. She didn't
know quite what had transpired here, or what she'd given up, but the
mother was free of time, and the baby slept on in her carriage,
unaware of the universe of time manipulation, and sexual slavery.
Monique shivered as she let the breath out of her lungs.
She began to walk again, her mind awhirl, towards the entrance where
they'd arrived seemingly an eternity ago. She had a feeling that
they'd be late for dinner.
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