|
Chapter 111
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Monique stopped on the warm sidewalk, the sun caressing the skin of
her cheeks. The exit door swung closed quietly behind her.
"What?" she asked innocently, as he drew up beside her.
"Was that long enough?" he asked pleasantly.
She regarded him, confused. "Was what long enough?"
He stood watching her, not answering, waiting for her to figure it
out. She tilted her head slowly to first one side, then the other,
her brow furrowed. Then it dawned on her.
"Please, no. Not yet," she whispered.
He wore a curious mix of regret and anticipation upon his face. She
shook her head slowly, the tears already beginning to trace down her
cheeks. Her feet backed away from him slowly, her eyes wide.
"Not yet. Just a block or two."
"We had an agreement, Monique."
"I know. I know. But, please. Just a little while longer. It's not
fair."
He reached out, and took her right wrist. She didn't resist as he
coaxed her arm behind her back, then joined it with the other one.
As the handcuffs closed about her wrists again, she began to cry
harder.
"No. No. No," she felt her voice rising. She didn't want to do this,
she'd agreed to his conditions, and here she was standing outside
the mall entrance, trembling and fighting like a child. "No," she
said more quietly.
His eyes flashed in a strange mixture of desire, and disappointment.
She lowered her eyes, feeling the disappointment more than the
desire.
When she looked up, he stood in front of her. He held up the hunting
knife, its metal gleaming in the noonday sun.
"Please, no," she begged. "I'll do what you want."
"You won't, and that's fine," he said easily, his voice neutral and
almost emotionless. She shivered. "This will be easier than if I
made you take them off yourself."
"Please, no."
He touched the dull side of the blade to Monique's throat. She
swallowed carefully, and shivered.
"Please, don't hurt me. Please."
"I'm not going to hurt you, but if I were you, I'd stand still."
Monique inhaled, and held it, holding her body as rigid as she
could. Still she trembled, but he seemed capable with the weapon.
That frightened her even more.
She felt, rather than saw, the buttons pop from between her breasts,
and then the fabric parted from her neck to her bound wrists. The
blouse fluttered from her body like a butterfly on the wind. It
flapped for a moment near her bare feet, and then danced in the wind
towards the sparsely parked cars of the parking lot.
The denim about her legs rended as easily as if the knife had been
slicing through warm butter. She shivered, but tried to remain still
as the cold steel of the blade kissed her thighs, then her shins,
and exited near her ankle. She closed her eyes as he tugged the
white jeans from between her legs. As if of their own mind, her legs
parted a little to allow the fabric to come free of her body.
When she looked up, he was smiling and tucking the sheathed knife
into his waistband beside the gun. Tears fell unheeded and like a
river down her face.
"You fucking bastard," she choked out.
Instead of chastising her for swearing, and for insulting him, he
merely turned from her, picked up the backpack, and began to walk
towards the parking lot. The white, tight, denim fluttered against
her right ankle.
The cool spring air kissed her bare skin once again, as the tears
fell in hot rivulets down her cheeks.
<---===***===--->
The anger and sense of the unjust left her as quickly as it had
arrived. Her feet whispered through the grass beside the road,
while he walked near her but on the asphalt in his shoes. At least
he'd allowed her the freedom to walk in the grass again, despite her
outburst as her clothes had been forcibly removed. Now, it felt as
if the emotions had flown from her, like a dove fluttering from a
cage.
She stopped, and he did so as well, slowly facing her.
"Going to insult me again? Someone in your position might want to
reconsider." His voice was light, not angered as she'd expected. It
frightened her in an inexplicable manner.
She sighed, and willed back the tears that were about to fall from
her eyes again. Slowly, and awkwardly, she lowered herself to her
knees, the grass tickling her bare skin. She rocked back on her
heels, wishing that her hands weren't pinned behind her.
"I'm sorry," she said, her face upturned to watch him. He cocked
his head to the side, a hint of a smile flitting to his lips. "We
made an agreement, and I should have stuck to it. Instead ..." she
let her voice trail off.
He nodded, seemingly accepting her apology. He reached forward
towards her, but she rocked back and away from his fingers.
"It's not fair. I'm a human being, you know."
"I know that."
Ignoring him, she continued. "But I'm sorry. Punish me if you like,
but please leave the others out of this."
"I'm not going to punish you. And I wouldn't take it out on Kate, or
Leigh, either."
"You've done it before. To prove a point, that hurting others is
somehow worse. It is. I understand. But I'm the one that refused
you, that balked. Okay? I should take whatever punishment you have
in mind."
He crouched, his fingers urging her chin up to look him in the eyes.
"Monique, I'm not going to punish anyone. I'm frankly surprised that
you didn't try to run."
"I still might."
"And that's why I'm watching you. I should never have allowed you to
taste clothing again, if I'm intending to keep you without. It's too
... tempting."
Monique nodded. "I enjoyed it, while it lasted."
"A little too much."
Monique flushed, pushing away the anger. Anger wouldn't help her --
not here, not anywhere. She was naked. She was controlled. And she
was here. Nothing she could do to change that. Survive, and survive.
She nodded slowly.
"I'll stay nude as long as you want," she whispered.
He nodded, then lightly grasped her elbow. With his help, she
climbed wearily to her bare feet. The grass tickled the bottoms of
her feet as she began to walk again. She inhaled the cool air,
smelling fresh grass, and some perfume that she couldn't identify.
She sighed, somehow glad that he'd accepted her apology, and it
appeared that this would be the end of it.
They moved down the road again, backtracking towards the house, and
the other girls.
<---===***===--->
The bench was shaded, and Monique thankfully sat down near one
corner. The wood of the back of the bench pressed comfortingly into
her bound arms, and the slats under her bare bottom were smooth with
use. She sighed, and pulled up her legs, unconcerned now about her
nudity -- the jeans, and the loose blouse only a pleasant memory.
She missed the clothing, of course, but not as much as she thought
when it was being cut from her body.
Her feet ached, even though he'd let her walk the entire way in the
grass, and she nearly wished for the cold, harsh water of the
fountain to cool her heels. Her feet felt dusty and tired.
The vibration of his body lowering into the opposite side of the
bench brought her head up from inspecting her bare thighs.
She was silent, watching him. His eyes didn't fall against her
nudity, which surprised her, but rather sought out the girl standing
clothed, silent and frozen, about to board a city bus. The
distinctive red stripes and ever present advertising graced the side
of the vehicle. With a flush, Monique realised that she'd been tied
in that bus, had sex in that bus, with the girl.
Melanie didn't even twitch, but his eyes didn't leave the frozen
girl.
"You could be charged with sexual assault, you know?"
Slowly, the Timeman turned toward Monique, a smile gracing his lips.
"Sexual assault? I didn't rape her."
Monique cleared her throat.
"But you made me have sex with her -- that's sexual assault."
He laughed. "You offered. I only allowed you to take blondie's place
in the matter. That's hardly 'forcing' you to have sex with the
girl. But it was an interesting show, nevertheless."
Monique blushed, but tried to ignore her embarrassment. She'd had
sex with the girl, even brought her to climax. Something inside of
her was actually proud of that. It wasn't a fake, and she wasn't a
homosexual. No. She'd done it to avoid pain. Nevertheless, she'd
done it, and done it well. Apparently.
"I'd call you a bastard, but that might earn me another sex session
with Melanie."
He nodded, but then shook his head and said, "I am a bastard."
Monique nodded. "Sexual assault. I've dealt with enough to know."
Her smiled again. "Who's going to catch me?"
"It's not illegal unless you're caught?"
He sighed, and nodded slowly. "Something like that."
"You really believe that? That you can justify doing this to us? Me?
Her? The rest of them? Because you can't get caught?"
He leaned back into the corner of the bench and extended his legs
towards Melanie.
"You know how you got here, right?"
Monique nodded. "You chose me, for some reason, out of a few hundred
million viable women on this planet, as your plaything. And so I
sit here, naked and bound, because you want me this way. And there's
nobody to help me. It doesn't make it right."
"Time manipulation, Monique. Time."
"So what? We're as human here as we were out there," she said,
nodding towards Melanie.
"The Universe is a strange place, Monique. Things have dimensions."
"Height, width, length. Yes, I know."
"And time," he added patiently. "Without any of these, the Universe
cannot support it. If an object has no time, then it does not exist.
Cause and effect."
Monique didn't quite understand, but she nodded slowly.
"And we have time here. I exist. Here and now. What's the point?"
He gathered his thoughts for a moment. "For you, as long as I don't
share what I've seen, when I return you, you'll be as oblivious as
Melanie. What happens here, never happened for you. Period. You
never sat naked in that corner of a bus shelter bench, handcuffed,
in front of me, talking about philosophical issues."
Monique shrugged. The handcuffs jingled quietly behind her back.
"But I am here. And I feel. And I hurt. And I shame. The same as I
would outside of this -- timeline. What you're doing is wrong. Can't
you see that? Wrong to hurt girls, wrong to force them into sexual
acts for your own twisted gratification. Yes, you haven't raped us
-- not directly -- not yet -- but you've subjugated us, made us into
less than we are."
He smiled. "Are you less than you were?"
Monique thought about that for a moment. Did sitting here naked and
handcuffed, forced to have sex with women make her less than she
was? She slowly shook her head. If anything, she was stronger than
she was before. She didn't need power suits to be what she was. Not
underneath. But she didn't express that. It was an important
question -- one to which she suddenly was unsure of the answer.
"It's still wrong," she insisted. Her voice seemed small in this
silent world. "We didn't do anything to deserve this. Being female
isn't a crime, in case you hadn't noticed."
"No. Being female is a wonderful thing."
"It's wrong. We deserve more."
"You think I don't respect you?"
Monique turned away, trying to conjure the image of him cutting her
clothes from her, forcing her head between Melanie's soft thighs.
But try as she might, it didn't fit. In a strange, and ironic way,
he did respect them. She didn't answer his question.
"It's still wrong," she said quietly.
"What's wrong?"
She cast him a glance of incredulity. "What's wrong?!?!?! You can
look at me sitting here naked and helpless, and still ask that?"
"Not that. Who determines right and wrong?"
"I don't know. The law?"
"Laws are different, country to country. In some strange countries,
as a woman, even exposing your face would get you beaten. And the
law supports it. Happily."
She thought for a moment. "I don't know. God?"
He laughed then. "Are we going to fall into a discussion of absolute
right and absolute wrong? The word of God seems to change depending
on who you are, and what you believe. The word of God gets women
beaten for exposing their ankles. Same country. Which word of God is
right?"
Monique shifted her weight, extending her legs and crossing her
ankles. The pavement where her heels touched was pleasantly warm
below. She swallowed.
"I don't want to get into a religious discussion. It's just wrong.
Can't you see that?"
"Are you a religious person?"
Monique faced him again, and slowly shook her head. He nodded as if
he understood somehow. She thought, maybe, that he did.
"I was raised Catholic, but I'm not sure what I believe any more."
"Let me ask you something else. If I think about raping Melanie,
there, but don't free her and don't throw her to the ground
screaming, and don't stick my penis deep into her. If I only think
about it, is that wrong?"
Monique stared up at the sky. The blue looked like a dome, the
shining disk of the motionless sun breaking the monotony, not a
cloud in the sky.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Yes," he repeated. "Have you ever heard of anyone successfully
prosecuting anyone for thinking about rape? Haven't you ever dreamed
about being raped?"
Monique closed her eyes, knowing the answers, and not liking either
one. She shook her head slowly. "But," she said slowly, "the
difference between second and first degree murder is intent. That's
not something tangible. Every first year law student knows that."
"But an act has been committed -- murder -- it's crossed from
thinking to action, right? At that point, it becomes more than just
thought. More than just fantasy."
Monique sighed, knowing where this conversation was going.
"And if these things never happened to me? I never sat here having
this conversation with you, then the crime never occurred, and you
can justify it? Your guilt assuaged?"
"No crime has been committed, Monique."
"And I'm sitting here without my clothes only because you're the
only law here."
He nodded slowly. "When you return, it would never have happened.
Not for you. No victim. No crime."
"But it did happen. Is happening. I feel. I hurt. I exist, both here
and at home, wherever that is." She jingled the handcuffs purposely
behind her back. He looked at her. "At least I won't remember all
this," she added quietly.
"You may find that you want to, by the end. But even I can't change
that."
Monique shook her head firmly. "I won't. And it's not right. If
you're honest with yourself, no matter what philosophy of life you
believe, whoever your God might be, it isn't right."
He sighed, and returned his gaze back to Melanie.
"I wasn't going to make you have sex with her again. I just like
looking at her."
Monique closed her eyes again and regarded the sky.
"It's wrong," she whispered, "here and now, for you and me, it's
wrong."
"Somewhere, in my heart, I think you might be right."
Monique sighed, and pushed herself back to her feet. She smiled a
little. Somehow, his words made her feel lighter, and more alive --
somehow easier to accept her captivity.
He didn't rise with her, but remained watching Melanie.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" he murmured.
Having experienced the girl intimately, Monique could only nod her
head. "Yes, she's beautiful." For some reason, the words didn't make
her feel homosexual -- it was merely an admission of the beauty of
the girl standing motionless in front of them.
As he pushed himself from the bench, he turned to face Monique.
"Why did you take me?" she asked quietly.
"You're all beautiful," he said with a smile. He touched her bare
shoulder and Monique didn't resist. Her feet fell with a soft patter
as she began to walk again. Without asking, she moved back to the
grass bordering the roadway. The chain jingled quietly behind her
back.
Melanie's form receded as they moved up the street, two specks
moving in a sea of motionlessness. Monique turned once to regard the
girl, standing alone, and frozen almost out of sight. The Timeman
turned, too, but with a sigh began to walk again. After only a
moment, Monique turned as well, and caught up.
She approached him without making physical contact, walking through
the grass quietly, together.
Neither of them spoke, each lost in their own thoughts.
<---===***===--->
At the sound of the front door, Kate poked her head from the
kitchen. She looked worriedly at Monique, but not seeing any
physical damage, the redhead lifted her eyes to the Timeman standing
easily behind Monique.
"You're late," she admonished.
He shrugged. "Captor's perogative."
Monique looked at him over her bare shoulder and shrugged. A look,
almost of grudging respect, passed over her features before it
flashed away.
Kate looked at them, puzzled. "Dinner will be served at seven.
Whatever the heck that means. About fifteen minutes." Her head
disappeared back into the kitchen, and quiet voices emerged from
within. The door swung shut with a creak.
He nodded and guided Monique towards the living room.
Andrea and Nicole looked up from what they were doing. Nicole
winced, her hand moving to her damaged ribs. Andrea slipped the
headphones back over her ears, closing her eyes after ensuring that
Monique didn't seem hurt.
He guided Monique to the sofa where he released her hands and then
cuffed her ankle back to the sofa leg with the handcuffs. Monique
didn't protest. She merely pulled weakly at her restraint, and then
tried to ignore it.
"At least you aren't Maurice," she said. Nicole looked up sharply at
that, but then returned her attention to Shakespeare.
He nodded, apparently understanding.
"Thanks for the walk," he said.
Monique picked up her book from the coffee table, and opened it to
the folded down page. The pages rifled under her thumb.
"You're welcome," she said quietly, then turned her attention to
Peter Straub and Mr. King. "Anytime."
Chapter 112
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"What's for dinner," he asked as he strode into the kitchen.
The girls turned, surprised at his entrance. Kate stepped forward,
her voice small.
"It's a surprise. Please don't look."
He smelled garlic and yeast. He shrugged, and backed away from the
stove, where a large pot bubbled. Leigh interjected her bare body
between him and the pot. She smiled and lifted her bound hands.
"It's damn difficult cooking with these."
He settled into a kitchen chair and set the two dark coloured boxes
on the table in front of them. Kate's eyes flit to the boxes, but
then returned to his face. He motioned the girl forward.
She stepped towards him, a look of pleased surprise crossing her
face as he released her wrists from the chains. Leigh bent and
brushed his cheek as he released hers.
The pot hissed, and Leigh scampered back to the stove, lifting the
lid and stirring the contents. She glanced over her shoulder.
"Thank you for releasing our hands. It'll help a lot. But if that's
all ..." She apparently didn't want to outright ask him to leave,
but rather supplied a strong hint.
"In a minute, Leigh," he said quietly. "Can you come here for a few
minutes?"
Leigh sighed, and reached towards the stove, jumping as a jet of
stream kissed her bare arm. She turned down the front burners, and
then turned to join Kate beside the Timeman.
"Dinner is going to be even later?"
"Cranky?" he asked her.
Kate gave a small laugh. "She used icing sugar instead of flour.
The first batch was sweeeeeet."
He grinned as Leigh scowled at Kate. After a moment, Leigh's frown
broke and she smiled as well. She turned back towards the Timeman.
"What do you want, anyway? Everyone, that is all the girls, are
hungry. Aren't you?"
He nodded, patting his stomach lightly. "What if I don't like the
food? Are you sure you want to keep it a surprise?"
Leigh licked her lips, then answered. "If you don't like it, I'm
sure you'll eat some ice cream, and then punish us all by making us
eat it, or go without. Whatever strikes your fancy at the time."
He nodded, and tried to hide a grin. She knew exactly what he would
do. But she seemed willing to take the chance.
He reached for the boxes, peeked inside, then handed one box to
Kate, and the other to Leigh. The girls took the boxes from him
without comment, or opening them.
"What is this?"
"A present. I want you to wear it tonight."
Kate looked at him skeptically. "What are they? Lingerie? Leather
and cuffs?"
He laughed and leaned back in the chair.
"Just open them."
<---===***===--->
Leigh gasped first, then extracted the gown from the box.
"You've got to be kidding."
Kate echoed the sentiment as she held hers up to her bare skin. Her
pale skin shimmered beside the black fabric.
"You're going to let us dress?" Leigh looked back at him with
suspicion. "In these?"
"I insist on it," he said quietly.
"Why? I didn't think you'd ever let us have clothes back."
He shrugged. "It's just for dinner."
"Do you have any idea how expensive these are? Where did you get
them?"
"Monique picked them, and expense isn't exactly an issue."
Leigh eyed him again. "The others?"
"What others?"
"Monique, and Andrea, and Nicole?"
"They'll remain as they are. The gowns are for you and Kate."
"No."
Even Kate turned to regard Leigh.
"No?" he said, an edge rising into his voice. Leigh paled a little,
but held the gown away from her bare skin, offering it back to the
Timeman.
"I can't," Leigh said quietly. "If you aren't going to let the rest
of them dress, I'd feel ... odd wearing it."
Kate turned and did the same, holding her dress out to him.
He laughed and reached out, pressing the gowns back towards them.
"You misunderstand, girls, this isn't an option. I want you to wear
them as much as I enforce nudity the rest of the time. You'll wear
them because I told you to, not because you want, or don't want to."
Leigh swallowed, and then nodded her head. Kate continued to hold
the dress out. When he didn't take it, she dropped it in a crumpled
heap on the floor.
He rose, without looking at the clothing. He flashed them a quick
smile.
"I'll bring the other girls into the dining room in fifteen minutes.
Seriously, the others won't mind, dress, and enjoy it."
At the last moment, he spun and regarded Leigh. The girl held his
gaze for a moment, then lowered her eyes. He approached her again,
taking her right hand. She looked up as he pressed a bottle into her
fingers and wrapped them around it. Her eyes widened.
"Where? I'd nearly forgotten about that."
"Wear it if you want."
The purple bottle from a locker that she'd nearly forgotten
shimmered in her palm. Poison. The soft fumes tickled her nose, even
though the bottle remained capped. This bottle, that she'd scrimped
and saved for. It wasn't exactly as she'd supposed it would be used,
but she nodded slowly, neither promising to wear the perfume, or
denying it.
He turned and pushed through the door. It swung back with a
creak, and Kate and Leigh turned to look at each other with puzzled
expressions.
<---===***===--->
The fabric kissed her skin like a prince, the gown falling modestly
to her bare ankles. She was sure that it would look odd without
shoes, but even barefoot, she felt more human with the cloth draping
her body. She adjusted the straps, and then turned. Kate stood
blushing, the strapless gown fitting her body perfectly. Kate didn't
need a bra, and gravity refused to tug the black fabric from her
body. It swirled around her when she walked.
Leigh's heart hammered for a moment, and Kate returned her smile
like the school girl that she was.
"I don't think I've worn anything but jeans in years."
"You look like you're ready for the prom."
Kate laughed easily. Her red hair danced around her shoulders
contrasting with the gown. She smiled and twirled.
Without thinking, Leigh stepped forward, and stopped Kate as she
launched into her second spin, her hands light upon Kate's
shoulders. Kate looked up, her eyes suddenly moist with happiness at
being dressed, and flushed from her exertions.
Without a word, Leigh kissed her, her lips falling easily onto
Kate's. After a moment's stunned hesitation, Kate kissed back, her
tongue tickling Leigh's lips.
With a gasp, Kate broke the kiss and quickly turned away.
"I haven't either," Leigh said quietly. "Worn anything but jeans."
Kate turned back, her face flushed. She laughed easily, not
concerned about the intimate gesture of a moment before.
"I'm not wearing any panties, Leigh," she said with a smirk.
"Neither am I. Neither am I."
With that, Leigh turned with a quick sigh towards the stove and
turned back up the burners. The pot was boiling again in a few
minutes, and she almost forgot about the kiss. Almost.
<---===***===--->
The Timeman sat at the head of the table. The chairs to either side
of him were vacant. Nicole sat alone on the left side of the table,
her hands clasped easily upon the white linen tablecloth. Monique
and Andrea sat quietly beside one another down the right side of the
table. Expensive looking china sat in front of all places, though
only his place was graced with knife and fork.
Andrea sighed, but other than that sound, the room was silent.
He looked up as Kate swept through the doorway holding a large bowl,
her fingers protected by a dishcloth. Andrea's eyes widened as she
noticed the evening gown, but Monique only smiled a little.
Kate set the steaming bowl in front of him, and picked up the
serving spoons buried under the pasta. Efficiently, she heaped pasta
onto his plate until he motioned for her that she'd served enough.
"Sir?" she whispered. "May I serve the girls, as well? Or shall we
wait for you?"
"Of course, the girls are as hungry as I am. This smells heavenly."
Kate smiled, and began to place smaller amounts of the pasta on each
girl's plate.
When he looked up, he saw Leigh standing in evening glory holding a
bottle of wine and a box of matches. Her eyes questioned his, and he
nodded.
She moved towards the hutch, and sifted through the glassware,
crystal clinking softly. She placed a single glass in front of him,
and looked perplexedly at the bottle. He gently took the bottle from
her, and placed it beside her plate. Poison wafted gently from her
skin.
"I think the girls need glasses, too, don't you?"
Leigh looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. "You're going to
let us drink wine? I was going to serve water for us."
"I think you all deserve wine, don't you?"
Leigh flushed and nodded. "But, Kate and I, and probably Nicole,
we're ..."
He laughed. "You're worried about being underage?"
Leigh flushed, and then took a step backward. "I suppose not."
"One glass each. That's all. All right?"
Leigh nodded. Kate finished spooning out the pasta. When she
straightened, she looked worried. She whispered to Leigh, but the
Timeman could hear her.
"We should have thought about this. How are we supposed to eat?"
"Eat?"
"Without cutlery." She turned to look pleadingly at the Timeman.
She raised her voice a little. Her hands rose to play with the
neckline of her gown.
"Sir? Can I ... can I take off the gown, now?"
He regarded her without answering.
"I. I don't want to get it dirty, and I will if I have to eat with
my fingers. I'm not complaining, not at all, I'll put it back on
after dinner if you want. I just don't want to be punished for
ruining it. Please."
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. The garlic from the pasta
tickled his nose, and his belly rumbled.
"Get forks and spoons for the girls. I don't want you all to have
burned fingers, either."
Kate stood stunned for a moment, then recovered. Impulsively, she
bent and kissed him, her lips brushed his, sending shivers down him.
Then she was gone, her bare feet whispering below the gown, as she
hurried back to the kitchen.
"Thank you," she whispered as she disappeared though the doorway.
Leigh stood at the end of the table. She slowly shook out the match.
Two long tapered candles burned, sending swirls of smoke up towards
the chandelier. She stepped over to the switch and dialled down the
light. Then she joined Kate in the kitchen for a moment.
He glanced around the table. In the flickering light of the candles,
he could almost believe that the remaining girls weren't nude, that
they sat there watching their plates almost as if they were seated
in a fancy restaurant.
<---===***===--->
Kate brushed through the doorway, forks and spoons clutched in her
fist. She distributed the cutlery quickly. Andrea reached for hers
almost immediately, but then drew her hand back and dropped it into
her lap. Kate settled into her seat on the left, beside Nicole, with
a sigh.
She breathed in the scent off the pasta.
"Leigh's having trouble finding a corkscrew," she whispered.
He nodded, and waited quietly. In a moment, Leigh returned carrying
a large bowl of salad, and a corkscrew. She handed the corkscrew to
the Timeman, and then began distributing the salad.
Without comment, he worked the corkscrew into the cork, and pulled
it free. When he began to pour, Kate stopped him. She rose with a
smile, and retrieved the bottle. It was a dry white wine, by the
label, and she poured his glass first. Then half glasses of the
remainder for all the girls.
After they settled, he glanced around at them. The girls watched
him, waiting quietly. He debated telling them to start, but then
nodded and quickly tasted it. The pasta melted in his mouth, and the
wine complemented it perfectly. He smiled.
"It's wonderful, Leigh."
The girl beamed, and reached for her fork and spoon.
"Thank-you," she murmured.
Soon, the sounds of eating and sighs of satisfaction filled the
room.
<---===***===--->
It was as if he weren't there, that this was a private dinner
attended by two girls in evening dress, and three without clothing.
He leaned back, sipping at his second glass of wine while the girls
ignored him, and their odd state of dress, and talked unabashedly.
Nicole was talking about her experiences, her voice remarkably
steady.
"... and he made me crawl under the table, doing his friends, women,
men, it didn't really matter ... my tongue ached after that ..."
Monique answered, almost gaily. "I'll bet. I know what that's like."
Nicole continued. "He made me crawl regularly, all day. Raped me
continuously. When he ran out of steam, he used a vibrator until I
begged for mercy. I didn't get any, but I think he stopped when I
passed out. Perhaps not. I'll never know."
The other girls were staring at her, unbridled sympathy naked upon
their faces. Nicole shifted a little uncomfortably.
"This is killing the mood," she said. "But you all asked."
Kate nodded her head. "I don't mind." She sounded like she wanted to
justify something, and it had been done.
Nicole nodded and sipped from her glass, draining it. Her hand
shook slightly, though only the Timeman seemed to notice. He reached
forward with the bottle and emptied the remainder into Nicole's
glass. She stared at it for a moment, then raised her eyes
questioningly.
"I thought ..."
"I changed my mind," he replied. "Have as much as you want. I
wouldn't get drunk. Hangovers here seem worse than on the main
timeline."
Nicole nodded, sipped once from her glass, then spoke again. It was
painfully obvious that she wanted to change the subject.
"What have you got planned for us tonight?" she asked demurely.
Leigh excused herself from the table, and moved quietly towards the
kitchen.
"Whatever you want to do. I don't have anything strenuous planned
for tonight."
"You aren't going to tie us up?"
He laughed. "I didn't promise that."
Nicole nodded as if that were understood, and then continued to talk
to the others. He tuned them out until Leigh returned to stand at his
chair. She picked up the corkscrew and began to twist it into the
new bottle of wine that she held in her hands. He turned as she
grunted in dismay. Silently, he took the bottle from her hands, and
she returned to her seat to join the discussions. He popped the cork
and refilled his own glass. Leigh refused, as did Kate. Monique took
a second glass, and Andrea stopped him after hers was only half
full.
"A movie," Monique said to him. He roused himself to pay attention
to the girls.
"A movie?"
"Nicole says that there are a number of DVDs around -- that her
father bought a bunch."
He shrugged, and Monique smiled and nodded. He tuned out again.
<---===***===--->
"... I never got along with my parents ..."
"... my first time? When I was fourteen. His name was Jackson ..."
"... considered suicide? Coward's way. I couldn't ..."
"... I hated them, I'm not sure I do anymore ..."
"... nine years old. Breasts. These ..."
"... Jennifer Jones. I hated her ..."
"... home ..."
His eyes began to close, as the girls' voices surrounded him.
Chapter 113
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
A gentle hand woke him with a start, and the girl, whoever she was,
jumped back with a small cry.
"Wha?"
"Sir? I think you were asleep," Leigh murmured in his ear after
recovering. He glanced around the table. The plates and cutlery had
been cleared except for his wine glass which stood alone upon the
table, half filled. "If you want to sleep, then you shouldn't in a
chair. Your neck will kill you in the morning."
They had had cutlery, been free, and hadn't done anything. No fork
stuck in his arm, no butter knife slipped between his ribs. They'd
cleaned up, and then woken him as gently as possible, probably
electing Leigh to be the one to wake him. Smart girls, he thought.
He rubbed his eyes, then pushed himself to his feet. Leigh looked
up at him. The rest of the girls sat demurely around the table.
Nicole, Andrea and Monique still nude, Kate and Leigh sporting their
black evening gowns.
"If you want to sleep, can we at least watch a movie?" Leigh said.
"If you want, I'll beg."
He smiled at her, and touched her shoulder before she dropped to her
knees. The girl looked faintly thankful and returned to her seat.
He nodded slowly, motioning for Leigh to rise again. She did,
confusion gracing her face. She stood, unsure what to do with her
hands. She settled for holding them easily at her side.
"If I leave the rest of you free, can I trust you to behave
yourselves in the living room? Read, or listen to music?"
The girls nodded, even Leigh, though he had different plans for her.
"Go, then."
He concentrated and narrowed the immediate time bubble to
encapsulate the dining room and the living room. Even if they did
decide to run, they wouldn't get far. Of course, the girls didn't
know that, but he didn't think they would bolt. Otherwise, he would
have chained them, even temporarily.
The girls rose with a scraping of chairs. He touched Leigh's arm
stopping her from joining them. She gave him a puzzled glance, but
didn't protest. Andrea, Monique and Nicole swept out of the room,
chattering. Kate hung back.
"Isn't Leigh coming?" she asked quietly. She looked stunning, even
barefoot, in the dress. He suspected that the girl knew it. Her
cheeks were rosy from the wine.
He shook his head slowly. "I have to talk to her."
Kate nodded, though it didn't look like she believed him. She
turned to join the others, but stopped at the doorway.
"Can I take this off, now?" she asked. Her fingers toyed with the
black fabric.
He looked at the girl, surprised by her question.
"Why?"
Kate sighed, and hesitated. "I'll continue to wear it, if you demand
it, but ... I feel a little uncomfortable with it on in a roomful of
naked women. I know they don't mind, and they might wear it if the
positions were reversed, but Leigh isn't going in there with me, and
I don't ..." her voice trailed off.
"Is that all?"
"I'll wear it if you want me to." She hesitated for a moment, then
sighed. "And it itches. I think I might be actually getting used to
wearing nothing around here." She tried to smile, but failed. She
didn't look pleased at the idea.
He nodded, debating.
"I'll beg you," she said quietly. She began to slip to her knees. He
stepped forward to stop her and she rose with a look of relief. He
could imagine how it might feel for her to be reduced to begging to
be unclothed. The black fabric really must itch.
He nodded slowly, and Kate lifted the dress over her head in one
swift motion. Her sudden nudity nearly took his breath away, but he
avoided staring at her. She neatly folded the dress, draping it over
her arm.
"Do you want me to put it away?" she asked.
He shook his head. Instead, she stepped to the table and placed the
dress on the table, smoothing it with her fingers. She glanced up
and mouthed, "Thank-you," before stepping quickly to the living room
entrance and disappearing inside, a flash of skin, and she was gone.
He turned to Leigh who stood quietly watching.
"I'll gladly take mine off, too, if you'd like."
"Do they itch that much? I'd like you to leave yours on, if you
don't mind."
"I'll do whatever you tell me to do," she murmured. "And they don't
itch at all," she said with a faint smile.
<---===***===--->
"You let the cunt dress?"
The Timeman didn't say anything to Maurice, merely stared at the
man. Maurice was bleeding finely in a few places, and hung wearily
from his bonds.
"What kind of fucking useless Dom are you?" Maurice nearly screamed.
"She's a fucking bitch, and you should start fucking treating her
like what she is. A fucking cunt. Fuck. Look what the bitch did to
me."
The Timeman waved at Leigh to stay put. Leigh didn't move from the
doorway, but shifted uncomfortably as Maurice eyed her licentiously.
"I just wanted to make sure you weren't dead. Might be bad for
business to kill you."
"Fucked up right it would," Maurice said. "If you let me go now,
I'll kill you fast. Can't promise the same for the cunts."
The Timeman sighed and stepped forward. Slowly, he pressed the side
of Maurice's throat. "Good night," he sighed.
"Get away from me you fucking prick," Maurice cried, but then he
slumped in his bonds and the breath sighed out of him.
"At least he'll be quiet now," the Timeman said as he touched
Leigh's arm. Even from the brief touch, he could tell the girl was
shaking.
"Did you kill him?" Leigh asked. Her voice carried an edge, but he
couldn't tell if the girl was frightened, upset, or merely angry
that he hadn't let the girls kill the monster in Nicole's room.
"Just put him to sleep," the Timeman said easily. "He'll have a hell
of a headache in the morning, but at least he'll be quiet."
Leigh nodded, and walked ahead of the Timeman. He watched her bare
feet as they moved efficiently towards the stairs, the black dress
swirling about her body. If he didn't know better, he would never
have guessed that the thin fabric was all the girl wore. But even
the fabric couldn't hide the trembling that the girl's legs
projected.
<---===***===--->
"Why are we out here?" she asked as they walked quietly across the
perfectly manicured lawn. He envied her. He supposed that he could
remove his shoes and socks, but it didn't seem right. She didn't
have a choice; she simply had no shoes or socks to encumber her. He
didn't answer her, but rather guided her towards one of the mature
trees dotting the lawn. He wasn't sure, but it looked like a large
elm that seemed to have survived the Dutch.
She halted as they approached the tree.
"Not after the nice dinner I cooked. Please," she murmured. When
she turned, her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. He wanted to
embrace her, but sensed that this was the wrong time. Confused, he
spoke quickly.
"Why do you think we're out here?"
Leigh choked back a sob.
"Come on. You separated us from the group for a reason. I've seen
you do it before. You tie me to the tree, cut my clothes off, hurt
me until I beg, then you rape me. Right? Please. I've done
everything else you wanted. Please."
He smiled, then placed his own back to the tree and slid slowly down
the bark to sit at the base. Leigh remained standing, her hands
clasped in front of her. He looked up at her.
"Leigh? When have I raped any of the girls that I could have? You
included?"
She swallowed, then glanced right and left as if looking for an
escape route that couldn't possibly exist for her.
"You haven't. But now's a good time to start. If you're half as
horny as I ..." her voice trailed off as she realised what she was
saying.
He nearly laughed, but managed to stifle it.
"Sit down, Leigh." The girl shook her head slowly. He shrugged. "I
have no intention of hurting you," he said slowly. He glanced up at
the noon sky, it being so out of place when he felt like it was late
evening. This timeline took some getting used to.
"Please, let me go back to the others. I'll take off the damn dress,
if you want." Her fingers began to lift the garment from her skin.
"Leigh?"
She stopped her motion, and stared at him, almost defiantly.
"If I asked you if you wanted to have sex with me, right here, and
right now, what would you say? No coercion. No threats. You could
say yes or no, and you knew that I wouldn't hurt you or anyone else
if you did say no."
Leigh swallowed heavily, then began to lower herself. She rested on
her knees in the grass for a moment, then lowered herself further
until she sat cross-legged in front of him. Her bare toes peeked
from below the hem of the gown. She lifted her eyes.
"Truthfully?"
"Truthfully."
"I don't know."
He cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrows.
"I really don't know. Part of me wants to. All this," and she waved
her arms through the air, "all this freedom, and then you tie us up,
and you hurt us, and we're in your control. We're naked all the
freaking time. What did you expect? Yes, I'm aroused most of the
time. Truthfully. I don't know why I'm telling you this, it can't
be in my best interests, but I'm telling you the truth. So part of
me wants to have sex -- not just with you -- nearly anyone. And I'm
sorry if that hurts you. Really sorry. But yes, I want to climax --
I'd even settle if you let me masturbate. Anything. And part of me
says no, that good girls don't need or want these things --
especially from those that capture us, strip us naked, and then
torment us." She paused for a moment. When she looked up, her eyes
were wet with tears. "It isn't fair," she finally said.
He nodded gently. "So the answer is yes," he said quietly.
And she nodded. "Yes, I think I would," she said, her voice nearly
breaking. "Yes, I think I would."
<---===***===--->
Leigh remained cross-legged in the grass, her hands extended behind
her. She gazed up at the sky, a faint smile playing about her lips.
When she looked down, something caught her eye.
"How much can you control?" she asked quietly.
"What?" he said, dropping his own gaze to cover her.
"How much of all this," and she spread her arms for a moment before
falling back to an easy lean, "can you control?"
"I control you, don't I?"
She flushed for a moment, then as if realising the simple truth
nodded.
"Do you control the universe?"
"Truthfully? I don't know."
She nodded as if the answer made more sense than it did. She sighed.
Her arm rose, and she pointed, grimacing at a spot of blood that
dotted the back of her hand.
"What about squirrels?"
He smiled, radiating confusion.
"Squirrels?"
"Squirrels," she repeated. She waited for his gaze to follow her
pointing finger. He shrugged.
"What about them?"
"I miss squirrels, and chirping birds, and the simple hum of
traffic."
"City girl."
Leigh nodded. "Born and raised. But I still miss squirrels."
She jumped as the furry creature began to move, its tiny feet
scurrying through the grass. It rose up on its hind legs as if it
were aware that the world wasn't quite right -- too quiet. But in
the end, it dropped back its forepaws and scampered through the
grass, rustling.
She watched it for a long time, silent and still. The squirrel edged
closer, as if desiring some contact, any contact. When it was
within a few feet of her, she slowly lifted her hand, reaching out
towards the creature.
It froze, its eyes warily upon the girl in black, its nose
twitching.
"It's all right, little squirrel, I'm not going to hurt you."
It rose up on its hind legs and tested the air, nose twitching, body
trembling. Then, more quickly than it had approached, it ran
chittering towards another tree, flashing up the truck as if the
devil were chasing it. Leigh laughed, and returned her hands to her
lap. When she turned back towards her captor, he was smiling, and
watching the squirrel as it climbed unperturbed up into the higher
branches.
Chapter 114
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"Why did you pick me?"
He tore his gaze from the animal rustling branches above them.
"Why?"
"Why did you pick me? There are tons of girls available to you, most
prettier than I. Hell, you had Karen, and you kept me. Why?"
He leaned back against the tree and laced his hands behind his neck.
He sighed, and shrugged.
"I don't know. You were meant to be here."
Leigh harrumphed, and began to shift her body until a thought
crossed her face. She looked up.
"May I?"
"What?"
"May I lie down?"
"Of course," he said waving her down. To her, it wasn't obvious. As
a captive, she never quite knew what she could do on her own without
permission, and what she needed permission for. After his motion,
she stretched out, propping her head up on her hand, elbow
comfortable in the grass. She shifted her legs. It felt odd lying in
the grass in an evening gown, with no underwear, but she was glad
for the covering. Though she was used to going without, it seemed
more civilised, even pleasant, being here in the quiet. The squirrel
chittered above her.
"You could have had anyone. Could be raping girls without a care.
You don't. Why?"
"I don't need to."
"But you torment us. You tie us up, you keep us naked most of the
time."
He shrugged again. "I need to."
"You need to control us? Or somebody in general? Why me?"
He didn't answer her for a long time, and she turned her eyes up to
gaze at the unmoving clouds in the sky.
"I had to have you."
"You've got me. I've lost. I'll let you have sex with me, if you
want."
"Not that. And you know it. You're smart. You're brave. You're
kind. And you're different. But you already know that."
"I'm not that different. I'm not different to Maurice. I'm the same
as Kate, the same as Nicole, the same as all the ..." and she
hesitated for a moment, as if her mouth refused to say the word.
Finally, her lips formed the word, a grimace crossing her face.
"... cunts in the world."
He turned at her words, a frown crossing his features. She was
momentarily afraid that he'd hit her for saying it, but he didn't.
The look softened, almost into a gesture of compassion.
"But you're more than that, and you know it."
Leigh nodded. "I'm more than what's between my legs, yes. And you
seem to see it, even when you tie me to a basketball hoop in front
of a crowd of spectators. Why did you do that?"
"You know why."
And she supposed that she did. The thoughts sent tingles up her
spine, but she willed away the sensations.
"But you see it."
He nodded, and made to rise, then thought better of it and returned
to the grass. He leaned forward, his eyes bright.
"When I met you," he said, "you wouldn't talk to me."
Momentarily confused, Leigh watched him warily, but didn't shift her
position. Slowly, she nodded.
<---===***===--->
She could feel the tears tracing down her cheeks, but she merely let
them fall into the grass beneath her.
"... curfews. They always treat me like a child."
"You are a child," he said slowly. "Just a very mature one."
Leigh nodded. "I used to hate them."
"Used to?"
She nodded again, her head shifting against her palm.
She hesitated for a moment, then resumed speaking.
"Once, we were at camp -- I showed you the picture. Me, my parents,
my girlfriend Janice. I woke up, disoriented in the dark. I thought
I heard a bear, or a snake -- I couldn't catch my breath. Then
voices. I snuck out of the tent and there they were, sitting near
the campfire. My Dad, and Janice. They were talking, but they were
sitting too close. Too close. Dad's hand ... was on her knee, and he
was touching her. Janice didn't seem to mind. Not at all. And as I
watched, they damn near kissed. Dad got a funny look, and then said
something. I couldn't hear, there was a rushing sound in my ears. He
got up quickly, and scuttled back to his tent. Janice looked
disappointed. I nearly threw up. I don't remember going back to my
tent, but I guess I did. We never spoke about that day. She was only
thirteen. Only thirteen."
She paused then, staring up at the clouds for a long, long time.
When she looked down, her eyes were dry and her voice steady.
"Then you came along and turned my life upside down. You showed me
Nicole, and Maurice. My Dad never did anything, as far as I know. He
walked away. No harm done. But I hated him anyway. We could never
afford nice things. This dress?" She fingered the fabric. "This is
the closest I'll ever be to wearing anything like this, and here I
lie in front of the guy who kidnapped me, naked underneath, and
liking the feel of it on my skin. I didn't know I could do it, you
know? That I could survive without them, and you know what?" Her
tears resumed, steadily now, though her body remained calm. When he
shrugged, she continued. "I don't hate them anymore. They. They're
just looking out for me." She forced a smile onto her face. "They're
trying to protect me from you."
He laughed easily, and smiled.
"And I'll never know this -- not at home. You'll send me back, and
I'll still hate them. I don't want to hate them anymore."
"I know Leigh, but you'll figure it out. You figured it out here."
"But back there, the biggest concern I have is a math exam, not what
maniac is going to make me have sex with another girl with my damn
hands tied behind me. You know?"
"I know. And you'll figure it out anyway."
"I love them, and I want to tell them. I want to go home."
He sighed, and let her cry for a while. She lay down further,
turning her eyes from him, crying into her hands. She would have
shaken him off if he'd tried to comfort her, but she was spared
that. After a time, her sobs relented, and she sat up, crossing her
legs again. She felt better, in a way.
To her surprise, the squirrel had returned, sitting up in the grass
near her feet, unafraid, perhaps lonely for company, even dangerous
company. This time, when she stretched out her fingers, the squirrel
approached, timidly and carefully. It brushed her fingers with its
fine fur, then bounded away. It brought a smile of wonder to her
lips.
She watched it disappear towards another tree.
She sighed, and then looked up. He was watching her intently.
Slowly, she rose to her bare feet. She closed her eyes, felt her
fingers toying with the neckline of the gown.
It slipped over her head with ease, and she carefully folded the
expensive fabric over her arm. She stood before him, naked.
"I'd like to have sex with you," she said, almost in a whisper.
Tingles ran through her nerves, her nipples and clitoris aching.
"No rape, just consensual sex. You and me."
Slowly, he shook his head. The denial brought tears to her eyes
again. She shifted her weight, watching as he rose. He approached
her, placing a chaste kiss upon her cheek. She flushed.
"Please," she said. "Why?"
He smiled and touched her lips with his finger, shushing her.
"Not yet, little one. Not yet. This will be over soon, I fear, but
not yet." Leigh shivered, and he noticed, though he misinterpreted
her goosebumps. "You can wear that back, if you'd like." He pointed
to the black gown draped over her arm.
She sniffled, and looked up at him, her eyes wet and shiny.
"If it's all right, I'll leave it off." He looked at her puzzled.
She elaborated. "I'd rather take it off willingly than to have you
ask me to take it off, or cut if from my body while you have me tied
up in some wild and wonderful way. And you will. I'm used to being
naked."
He nodded, as if her answer made sense.
"I'll carry it," she said quietly. "But thank you."
She began to walk back towards the house, her bare toes relaxing in
the grass. For a while, the squirrel followed, then bounded back
towards the trees. Leigh didn't know if he'd free it back to its
home in time, but she supposed the creature would survive.
She had.
Chapter 115
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
He sat with Kate cross-legged on the carpet in front of the
television stand. The chain between the girl's wrists jingled softly
as her hands dipped in together, extracting a few DVD cases and
inspecting them.
"It would be a whole lot easier without the handcuffs," she said
quietly, but overall, she didn't protest too much. At least her
hands were cuffed in front of her.
She peered into the cabinet, pointing towards a small stack of
unlabelled video tapes. She turned towards Nicole who was perched in
a chair, her hands similarly chained.
"What are those?" Kate asked.
Nicole paled a moment, then swallowed heavily.
"You don't want to see them," she whispered. "Or maybe you do."
"What are they?"
Nicole hesitated, winced, and then whispered again.
"He sometimes liked to film me. There's a lot of my screaming on
those tapes."
Kate paled, and turned towards her captor, slowly shaking her head.
A look of pleading entered her eyes.
He spoke before she could, also shaking his head. "I don't think we
need to put Nicole through that ..."
"He made me watch most of them ..." Nicole ventured from her seat.
The Timeman swivelled, and regarded Nicole. "Not tonight," he said
softly. Nicole looked relieved, relaxing a little into her chair.
Monique and Andrea sat quietly on the floor, their backs nestled
against the sofa, their hands cuffed as the other girls were.
The Timeman turned back towards Kate.
"So, what have you found?"
Kate blinked, as if waking up from a dream, then held up the titles.
There were three disks captured between her bound hands. American
Beauty, Chasing Amy, and Dogma.
"Kevin Smith fan, I see."
Kate looked down for a moment, then pursed her lips.
"American Beauty isn't Kevin Smith."
"You pick," he said. Without further comment, he pushed himself to
his feet, returning to the second sofa, and sitting down in the
middle of it.
"Is Chasing Amy all right?" Kate asked.
The other girls nodded, though they didn't really have any choice in
the matter. Kate fumbled with the case, having trouble with the
handcuffs binding her, but eventually managed. She slipped the disk
into the player and then picked up the remote control. She returned
to the sofa, standing easily in front of the Timeman. She sighed,
and handed him the control. Then she made to sit on the floor at his
feet.
A touch to her shoulder brought her head up. She smiled as he
motioned her beside him. She settled into the sofa, tucking her bare
legs up under herself.
<---===***===--->
The buttery and salty smell of popcorn made Kate look up. While
waiting, she'd nearly dozed, but the maddening smell made her mouth
water. Leigh swept through the door, regally naked, carrying a small
bowl of popcorn in her bound hands. She flashed all of them a smile,
and handed the bowl to Nicole. Before Kate could call out to the
girl, Leigh had disappeared.
Two larger bowls later, and Leigh stood in front of the Timeman,
trembling. She held the bowl out to him, and he took it, placing it
on his lap. Absently, he lifted a handful to his lips.
Leigh began to sink to sit near his feet, but like Kate, he stopped
her, and had her settle into the sofa on his other side.
"You aren't going to make us beg, are you?" Kate asked with an
impish look in her eyes. He simply shook his head and dimmed the
lights with the remote. The television flashed on and the drawer to
the DVD player closed with a hum and a click.
The girls reached simultaneously for the bowls of popcorn, happily
munching as the movie began to play.
<---===***===--->
He half considered what it would take to find Joey Lauren Adams, and
take her into his little group. While he probably could do it, it
didn't seem worth it somehow, despite her looks. He glanced around
at the girls settled around the living room. The flickering of the
television lit their bare skin.
The bowl of popcorn lay forgotten on the floor near his feet, only a
few unpopped kernels remaining in the bowl. Kate and Leigh sat
nestled into the corners of the sofa, their bare legs extended
familiarly across the cushions, their feet laying easily in his lap.
The girls didn't seem to mind the position, their eyes watching as
Alyssa screamed at Holden, something about fingercuffs.
Almost idly, he ran his fingers over Leigh's toes. The girl jumped a
little, but then relaxed, turning her eyes back to the film. Kate
jumped, too, but then relaxed.
After they were used to the touch, he played with their toes, his
eyes upon the screen. After a while, Leigh sighed, and settled
herself deeper into the couch.
<---===***===--->
The credits rolled up the screen, and he shifted the girl's feet
from his thighs with a pang of regret. The girls shifted, and
waited as he switched off the television, and flipped on the lights
to groans. He yawned and stretched.
He motioned Andrea and Monique to the opposite sofa. The girls
pushed themselves up -- Andrea had settled into an awkward lying
position on the carpet, and Monique simply pushed herself up from
sitting with her back against the sofa. Both girls groaned, their
eyes as tired as he felt.
"Why?" Andrea asked quietly as she lay down beside Monique. She
looked distinctly uncomfortable, her breasts touching the other
girl.
He ignored her, and quickly rebound the girls with their hands
behind their backs. Neither girl protested, though they didn't seem
comfortable. To complete the awkwardness, he bound their upper arms
together, and then wrapped a length of cord about their waists,
holding them together. He slipped an ankle cuff about Andrea's
ankle, and connected her to the sofa leg, effectively restricting
both girls to remain on the sofa, tied together.
He left Nicole free, except for a simple ankle cuff attaching her to
the chair in which she still sat.
"That's not necessary," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."
He crouched and looked into her face.
"How's the ribs?"
"Sore."
"Can you sleep in the chair?"
"I don't have much choice, do I?"
He shrugged. "If you'd prefer, you can sleep on the floor, but I'll
have to put your hands behind you."
Her expression betrayed her confusion, but she nodded easily.
"I've slept in far more uncomfortable places."
"I'll bet. Would you like another aspirin?"
The girl nodded once, and he turned motioning for Kate to retrieve
one. Kate pushed herself wearily to her feet, and disappeared
towards the front entrance bathroom, the chain between Kate's wrists
jingling as she moved.
He returned to Leigh, and helped her up. The girl rose, blinking. He
watched as she moved the cushions from the sofa, and pulled at the
bed release. It rose a little, then crashed back. She turned and
looked at him helplessly.
"Please, I can't. I'm sorry. Please, I don't want to be punished."
He touched the girl's shoulder and a fair bit of the fear left her
eyes as she moved to the side. He reached down, his hands
unfettered, and yanked the handle. The bed creaked, and it took far
more effort than he would have imagined to pull it out. Mentally, he
forgave the girl. She'd tried, and he wasn't even sure that he could
have pulled it out wearing cuffs as she was.
Kate returned and walked quickly over to Nicole. She handed the girl
the pills.
"Don't dry swallow them," Kate said.
Nicole looked up at Kate, shrugging. "It's how he made me take them.
I'm used to them that way."
The Timeman interjected. "Nicole. Wait."
The injured girl bounced the pills easily in her right hand. The
chain between her wrists bounced, too. Kate flashed him a grateful
look, and then scampered towards the kitchen. In a few moments, she
returned with a tall glass of water, perspiration dotting the
outside surface of the glass.
Nicole popped the pills into her mouth, and then accepted the glass
in both hands. She drank deeply, then coughed, handing the glass
back to Kate. Kate placed the glass on an end table, then returned
to stand beside Leigh.
He approached them, and at his motioning, Kate raised her wrists to
him. He unlocked one side, and placed her hands behind her.
Carefully, he relocked her bonds, and she pulled slightly at them.
Her slender wrist turned easily in the steel, but wouldn't slip
through.
He motioned for Leigh, but the girl stepped away.
"Please. I won't be able to sleep with my hands behind me. You don't
need to do this. I'm not going to try anything."
"Leigh ..."
The girl paled, and stepped back forward.
"Please," she whispered.
He shook his head slowly, and while he unlocked her hands, he spoke.
"I need you like this. Okay? I won't sleep if any of you are free,
and you don't want to see me cranky, do you?"
Leigh shook her head, but tears formed in her eyes as she held her
hands behind her. He was careful not to make her bonds too tight
either.
He touched their shoulders, and the girls awkwardly crawled up onto
the Queen sized sofa bed, but didn't slip under the sheets.
He returned to Nicole, and the girl looked up at him sleepily.
"I'll be fine," she said.
He bent and kissed her cheek. Nicole laid her head back against the
padding of the chair, and closed her eyes. He covered her gently
with a purple blanket, and she nearly smiled.
As he pulled another blanket over Monique and Andrea, he noticed
moisture on Monique's cheek. He brushed at it, his eyes questioning
her.
"I can't sleep like this," she said. Her voice nearly broke, but she
managed keep control, somehow. "I can't even sleep in the same bed
as a lover. Please. You can tie me up to sleep, just not to another
girl. Please."
He brushed her hair back. Andrea seemed to have gotten over her
discomfort, at least a little.
"Monique, we'll be okay. I don't snore. He isn't going to let you
out," Andrea whispered. He watched as Andrea kissed the other girl
on the cheek. Monique seemed to settle a little, but still squirmed
against the ropes holding her to Andrea. He bent and kissed both
girls, and then tucked the blanket around their nudity.
"She'll be fine," Andrea said quietly. "But you didn't have to do
this. We could have killed you after dinner."
"I know," he said quietly. And he did know. Perhaps he was
overcompensating for that, but either way, the girls would be the
ones to suffer for his carelessness.
Andrea lay her head back wearily and closed her eyes. Monique
remained stiff, and stared at him almost defiantly.
He shrugged and returned to the pull out where Leigh and Kate sat
curled up against the back padding. He crawled up the bed without
removing his clothing, and settled beneath the covers. He felt the
girls moving beside him, as he closed his eyes. Even with their
hands behind them, the girls could settle themselves, he was sure.
They weren't useless. Sleep would come quickly. He sighed.
Chapter 116
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
He became aware of soft breath against his cheek, and the soft
yielding of a bared breast pressed against his arm. Another breast
rubbed gently against his left arm. As their lips touched his cheek,
he opened his eyes. The room was dark, but he could see the reddish
colour of Kate's hair shining in the ambient light of the room. On
his other side, Leigh moved forward, and kissed his lips, her tongue
delving and teasing.
He raised his arms, and touched the girls, cupping their breasts,
and then running his fingers down their soft skin. Chains jingled,
and he forced himself to pull back as Leigh again kissed him. His
penis felt like it was about to burst.
"Leigh. Kate." He spoke quietly. He could hear Nicole's raspy
breathing, and Andrea's soft breathing, but he was pretty sure that
Monique was still awake somewhere on the other side of the room.
Leigh pulled her lips away.
"Please, just let us," she whispered. As he began to reply, she
leaned in to silence him with another kiss. He pulled away, again,
and pushed himself to a sitting position. It took every ounce of
willpower that he possessed. The girls remained lying awkwardly
against his jean clad thighs, their arms tied behind them.
"I can't. Don't you realise that?"
Leigh shifted until she was staring at him, her eyes liquid pools of
shining light upon the dark covers.
"Don't you want us?"
He nodded his head, almost desperately.
"I can't."
"Why take us then? Two naked girls in your bed, helpless and
willing. Yes, willing, want to do this for you. Isn't this every
man's fantasy? Two girls? We're young, maybe even inexperienced but
we aren't stupid. We want to. You want to. Why aren't you letting us
do this?"
"It isn't right."
"It's not rape, you jackass. We want to do this. Kate and I talked
about it earlier. We want to have sex with you. Period. Please."
He sighed. His penis ached. Positively ached. "Why?"
"Why what? We're naked, and you've kept us teased for days. We want
to climax. It's difficult for us, too, you know."
"I didn't think girls needed these things."
There was a pause, and if it had been lighter, he might have seen
the flush rising to Leigh's face.
"We do. And maybe, just maybe, if we have sex with you, you'll be
satisfied. Let us go, or not hurt us as much. Please."
He touched her forehead, then her cheek. Moisture dotted her cheek.
He turned to Kate. The redhead bobbed her head in confirmation. He
sighed. He was convinced that the girls really did want to, it
wasn't an act, though how much of it was desire, and how much was
self-preservation, he didn't know.
"Not tonight, Leigh. I want to, believe me, but I need to understand
more of this. Period."
Leigh began to cry, now he could see her body shaking, and she
pulled almost savagely at her hands. If she'd been free, he didn't
doubt that she would have struck him out of pure frustration.
"I'll do whatever you want. I'll use my mouth, my hands, my ... my
cunt ..."
He interjected here with a warning. "Leigh ..."
"I'm sorry. What do you want me to call it? My pussy? My sex? My
vagina? Whatever it is, I'll have sex with you. I can't get
pregnant, if that's what you are worried about."
He nearly laughed, but managed to contain it. Pregnancy here, wasn't
exactly an issue. But she wasn't thinking straight, and he
understood that.
"I just want to climax. I ache. So fucking much. I'll even
masturbate for you. I'll have sex with ... Kate ... if she'll have
me. Please. Please. Please."
He sighed, and began to settle back down, lying between the girls.
Kate was trembling, though she remained silent. He understood her
muteness wasn't a denial, it was quiet agreement with her friend. If
he'd allowed it, the girls would go down on each other in an
instant. If it was possible, they were more aroused than he was.
(Control. Control. Control.)
Mistaking his movement for acceptance, Leigh rolled, and pressed her
bare skin into him again, her hips rocking against his thigh. Kate
began to move closer as well.
"Leigh. Stop. We can't. You must know that."
Instead of protesting, she simply began to cry harder. He moved his
arm around her and pulled her nudity closer, but carefully stayed
away from her breasts. She lay her head down on his shoulder,
mimicked by Kate on the other side. Their hair intermixed upon his
chest. Leigh's hips continued to rock, but were slowing as she
wept.
"I'd rather you whipped me, than kept me like this," Leigh
whispered. Kate agreed, with the set of her body. "Please don't do
this to us."
"I must," he said quietly.
Her body trembled for a long, long time, but eventually, her
protests unheeded, the naked girl cried herself into a light doze.
After Leigh's breathing fell into a rhythmic cadence, he felt Kate's
head upturn towards him.
"Are you awake?" Kate whispered. Leigh mumbled something in her
sleep, but didn't wake. He thought that the girl might still be
crying.
"I'm awake," he said.
"It's not fair on us," Kate whispered.
"I know."
"She's telling you the truth. It may be strange, and it may be
awkward, but she wants to do this. It won't be rape, even if she's
tied up so much she can't move. Something about this place ... maybe
simply not having control ... I don't know. But, I feel it too.
Hard. I would do nearly anything to be allowed to climax. I feel
like there's a slow fire between my legs, and I can't even touch
myself. Can't you understand that?"
"Better than you can realise," he said slowly.
"You want us, don't you?"
He nodded, and she returned her head to the crook of his shoulder.
"Don't torture us like this. I'd rather be whipped, too."
Kate sighed, and settled herself again. He pulled the blankets back
up and over the girls. After a while, Kate's breathing fell into
sleep, and he stared at the ceiling for a long, long time before the
sandman claimed him, as well.
<---===***===--->
He could sense a presence, like a lighthouse upon a distant shore. A
diffused light shone through the tendrils of time-haze even if he
couldn't pinpoint it, scattered by the layers of the universe. It
was as if Time itself were shielding the presence, playing with him.
Linda's bubble had disappeared, swallowed into the haze. It wasn't
gone, but had almost joined with the other -- the other that Time
had shielded from him. But Linda wasn't gone, was she? She hadn't
returned to her former state, frozen naked in a hot tub deep in the
honeymoon suite. No. He'd be able to sense that, wouldn't he? She
remained in phase, hidden, but not entirely. He could sense her,
too, slightly clearer than the other -- perhaps because her bubble
had been part of his, at one time.
Unease settled through him, causing a shiver. The naked girls
nestled into his rough clothed body stirred, mumbling in their
restless sleep. A chain jingled somewhere towards where Nicole sat
asleep in the chair.
Who? What? Where?
He didn't know who, though he sensed she was female. He couldn't
explain it, beyond the visions of the dirty blonde college aged girl
that he'd seen. He didn't understand what was happening. Or if
anything beyond his own paranoia was responsible for his unease. And
where? If she were out there, where was she? At the Westin? Or at
the end of the driveway, waiting patiently, with a shotgun for him
to emerge with his entourage of naked, handcuffed girls? What would
happen if the other, female or otherwise, shot him?
He shook his head. The unease was shifting, forming a pit deep in
his belly. No. That much he would be able to tell. She wasn't near,
if she even existed. He'd deal with her, if and when her path
intersected with his own. Not tonight, in the land of the midnight
noon. No. The girl, if she were even real, wasn't near.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God!"
His ears pricked up, almost rising to glance around the room.
Visions of Andrea, or Monique, working a hand free, enough to touch
herself -- bring about a forbidden climax, enough to cause the girl
to cry out in elicit ecstasy danced through his mind. But the girls
breathed softly -- he was sure that despite her protests, even
Monique slumbered peacefully unaware. The voice had been Linda's,
echoing through the time haze, touching his mind from within. He
didn't understand -- not at all -- but then, he'd never had to deal
with another independent presence upon his timeline. He settled his
head back, his eyes unfocused, tuning to the sounds escaping from
the ether like a time-sensitive Marconi.
"Oh God. Oh God. Oh God." Linda paused, her breath coming in gasps.
Then one drawn out name, cried out across the miles, slipping
between the clouds of time haze like an echo through fog. "Dawn ...
Oh God ... Dawn."
And then there was silence, only the soft breathing of five bound
and naked girls to keep him company. The name echoed through his
mind, lulling him, driving away the unease.
"Dawn. Oh God. Dawn."
She was closing in. He could feel her approaching, racing through
his tired mind like a locomotive. The other wasn't a figment of his
imagination.
Her name was Dawn.
Instead of dread, the name almost soothed him. He whispered the name
into the quiet room. The girls around him shifted, but didn't wake.
"Dawn."
He closed his eyes. The image of the college-aged blonde rose up,
lying exhausted on a park bench. It was not an image to cause
unease, or fear -- only wonder.
But there was something else.
It made no sense to him at all. It was far more, far deeper, than
the arousal caused by the naked, bound, girls that surrounded him.
It was Dawn. Somehow, it was Dawn.
And he was aroused. So aroused he downright ached.
He sighed, and willed away the images of the dusty blonde girl.
They obediently retreated, but the arousal didn't. He sighed again,
and wrapped his arms around Leigh and Kate. The girls murmured in
their sleep. His exhaustion won out -- the haze, and the image of
Dawn retreating into a sea of blackness.
He slipped from consciousness, still aching, but somehow relaxed.
<---===***===--->
The piercing scream sounded like an animal in pain. For a moment, he
was disoriented, two weights squirming on each side of his body.
A single name raced through his mind. Dawn. Somehow she'd found him
while they slept, and she was killing Nicole. He didn't understand
why, it made no sense at all. But the scream continued.
Uncomfortable grunts, sounding like animals fighting, came from the
opposite sofa. Cries of pain and confusion followed. Dimly, he
recognised Monique's voice rising in a confused curse.
Pushing the two weights from him, he only barely recognised them as
Kate and Leigh, he swung his weight towards the foot of the pull out
bed. His heart raced, threatening to leap from his chest in a whirl
of blood and gore. Sharp cries of pain fell from Kate and Leigh as
they tumbled from the bed to the floor, their hands caught behind
them, unable to break their short fall.
He stumbled across the carpet, his eyes searching for the source of
the ungodly, piercing, screams. He was drawn towards the chair where
a naked girl sat curled up, dim sunlight illuminating her nudity.
She held up her hands, handcuffs encircling her wrists, as if
warding off blows from a whip. With a flash, he recognised her --
Nicole. The bruise upon her right side moved darkly as she drew in
her breath to release another scream. Other disoriented, and sleepy,
cries surrounded him as Andrea, Monique, Kate and Leigh scrambled as
best they could against their own restraints in the darkness.
Nicole's eyes were screwed shut, and her hair damp. The blanket,
with which he'd covered her earlier, lay in a crumpled heap at the
foot of her chair. Still she screamed.
"No. Daddy. No. Not again. Not him."
Her breath came in ragged bursts.
"Not that. The whip. Noooooooooo. Owwwwwwwwww," she screamed. Her
body convulsed as if it had been struck with a bullwhip.
Unsteady, Kate appeared beside him, shivering. Her red hair
glimmered in the reflected sun through the heavy curtains.
"She's dreaming," Kate whispered. Awe infused her, and if she'd been
able, it appeared that the naked girl would have hugged herself. He
glanced back. Leigh sat with her knees drawn up upon the pullout,
her eyes confused and frightened. A thin gash graced her left upper
arm -- blood trickling from the wound and down her arm. The Timeman
glanced at Nicole, then up at Kate.
"Help Leigh," he hissed to Kate. The redhead turned awkwardly, as if
only becoming aware of Leigh's cut. She scampered back towards
Leigh, touching Leigh gently, by turning and awkwardly reaching with
her bound hands. Leigh flinched, but didn't cry out, barely even
noticing Kate's ministrations.
The Timeman moved towards Nicole.
"No. No. No. No. No." Nicole said, her eyes still closed, her
breasts rising and falling in fright and panic. "No. No. No."
He touched her shoulder gently, and she withdrew, becoming quieter.
Her eyes remained screwed shut, and her breathing ragged.
Gently, he pulled the girl forward, easing her down and into his
arms as he knelt on the floor. "No. No. No. It hurts. Please."
"Shhhh," he whispered, as he smoothed the girl's hair. She trembled
like a rabbit caught in a trap. Her left leg extended to the maximum
allowed by the ankle cuff. Tears dripped down her face.
At his gentle touch, Nicole calmed, though her eyes remained
fiercely shut.
"Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare," he whispered.
It was perhaps five minutes before Nicole entirely relaxed in his
arms, her body falling limp again, her eyes gently tracking beneath
her eyelids. Her breathing returned to normal, and no more whimpers
and moans issued from her throat.
He held the girl for another five minutes until he was sure that
she'd fallen back into a restful sleep. With some awkwardness, he
began to lift her, intending to place her back into her chair. He
jumped as a pair of bare feet appeared beside Nicole. Another name
irrationally thrust into his mind. Dawn. Dawn. Dawn. When he looked
up, Kate stood peering down at Nicole and the Timeman. She looked
helpless, her hands still pinned behind her back, her face tear
streaked but morose, as if she wanted to help somehow, but knowing
that she couldn't. He settled Nicole slowly, and gently, back into
the chair. She sighed in her sleep as her body curled back up as if
missing his touch.
When at last, Nicole sat propped against the chair, he covered her
with the blanket. When he turned, Kate stood to the side, gazing
down at Nicole.
"Will she be okay?" she whispered.
The Timeman sighed, and touched Kate's shoulder, guiding her back
towards the pull out bed. Weariness gripped him.
Slowly, he shook his head. "For tonight, Kate, but I don't know if
she'll ever be okay."
Kate nodded slowly. She allowed her fingers to trail across
Monique's shoulders as they passed. Monique sighed, and shifted as
best she could.
The two of them sat on the edge of the bed. Leigh sat in the centre,
her arms still pinned behind her back. A bandage covered the place
where she'd suffered the cut, but it didn't seem to bother the girl.
"Are you all right?" he asked Leigh. Kate swung her legs idly
through the darkness as she sat beside the Timeman. Leigh silently
nodded, but tears stained her cheeks.
Slowly, Leigh shifted towards the side of the bed, hitching her body
to the side to make room on the bed for the man and Kate. He could
hear Nicole's soft breathing, and what sounded like Andrea. Wearily,
he lowered himself back to the bed.
In a moment, the girls shifted themselves to lie against him again.
This time, they didn't try to arouse him, but lay their heads easily
against his shoulders.
It took a long time for him to find sleep again. Kate and Leigh
found sleep again before he did, but it was a long time of silence
before their soft breathing, and warmth against him, lulled him back
into dreamland.
<---===***===--->
When he awoke once in the night, the girls still curled up against
him, the dream flittered away.
He whispered into the darkness.
"Dawn."
And then sleep reached up and reclaimed him.
Chapter 117
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Sunlight kissed her face, and it was a moment before she recognised
her surroundings. With a light groan, she forced her eyes open to
greet the sunlight filtering between the drawn drapes. Must have
overslept, she thought. Then the memory of a voice calling out in
the dimness: "Oh, God. Oh, God. Dawn. Oh, God."
Dawn roused herself, her eyes adjusting to the small hotel room.
Beside her, Linda slept on her stomach, her arms tucked under her
cheek. Linda's brown hair cascaded across her bare back, and her
body disappeared under the sheets, only the curve of her lower back
visible in the reflected sunlight.
"Oh, God. Dawn. Oh, God."
She sensed that the phrase was important, beyond how it made her
feel. She pushed the blankets from her skin, and watched as Linda
continued to sleep.
Troubled, she swung her bare legs from the bed, and fought down her
desire to wake the slumbering girl beside her. Her thoughts
inexplicably turned to John, twisting. A flush kissed her face.
Had it been justified, what had happened between John and her?
She shivered. He'd nearly raped her. It seemed so long ago, before
all this had descended on her, giving her more responsibility than
she ever wanted. Linda depended on her for her very life.
Dawn pulled her hands from her face, unsure of when she'd raised
them. Guilt flooded her. She'd been with Linda. Sexually. Close.
And it still flooded her senses -- her scent, her soft touch, her
lips. John flitted into the background, and Dawn reached out to
touch Linda's bare shoulder. She wanted her. Wanted her as she'd
never wanted John.
Her breasts tingled and her clitoris pulsed as she pulled her hand
back before her fingers could rouse Linda.
A tear traced down Dawn's cheek, but she pushed herself to stand
beside the bed. Linda turned over in her sleep, mumbling. Dawn stood
until the other girl had settled again, her soft breathing filling
the room.
Silently, Dawn padded barefoot from the room, only pausing for a
moment before leaving her crumpled jeans and sweatshirt on the
floor. Quietly and naked, she closed the door and crossed the living
room.
<---===***===--->
She couldn't control it, didn't even try. The scream of shock, and
surprise echoed through the small hotel bathroom as the spray of
water soaked her bare skin.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," she whispered as she forced herself
to remain under the cold spray. The repeated word had lost all sense
of meaning for her. She glanced at the handles below. Only the blue
tap was twisted, but she needed this. Needed it before she did
something that she'd regret.
Her thoughts turned briefly to Linda, where the girl presumably
still slept peacefully.
Naked. In the bed that they'd shared. Naked.
Dawn shivered, and tried to control the chattering of her teeth.
When at last she allowed herself to step from the frigid spray, her
lips were blue, and her body shivered uncontrollably.
Idly, she wondered what it might feel like if she were forced to
take a cold shower. In front of him.
She willed the images away, but not before her body reacted with a
groan. Almost in tears, she forced herself back beneath the stinging
shower until her shaking was worse than the heat still smouldering
between her legs.
<---===***===--->
Her hair dripped across her shoulders as she pulled the hotel
supplied white robe over her nakedness. She slipped Linda's comb
through her hair one last time, grimacing as it pulled at one final
stubborn knot.
As she exited the bathroom, she stopped, glancing right and then
left. One direction led to the sleeping naked girl. The other, to
the frozen world. She could leave, leave Linda to her own devices,
free and obligation free. Linda was married, to the guy frozen
outside of the door. Wasn't she? And Dawn? Wasn't she straight?
Up until last night, Dawn had thought so.
Freedom, or freedom?
In the end, she wasn't sure what made her decision. But, at least a
part of it was a sense of responsibility. She'd freed the girl, and
as such, she was her responsibility. She couldn't leave Linda here.
Not by herself. Alone, and possibly frightened, but mostly alone.
Dawn turned left, and padded back towards the bedroom.
<---===***===--->
"I'm hungry," Linda said simply, as Dawn slipped back into the
bedroom. Dawn paused, bending to retrieve her clothing.
Linda smiled, and flipped her hair back and out of her face. She
sat, unabashed, her breasts bare and exposed above the covers, but
her legs buried beneath.
Dawn straightened, leaving her clothes where they lay crumpled at
her bare feet.
"Good morning," Dawn said. Her lips found a smile without any
urging. Linda swung herself out of bed, and stood easily, without
any apparent shame. Dawn shivered, the cold from the shower still
infusing her a little.
Linda walked up to Dawn, reached up on her tiptoes, and kissed Dawn
on the cheek. "Good morning," she whispered. Then as the kiss
registered, she added, "You're cold."
Dawn stepped back. The kiss ignited her nipples and her clitoris
again, and she stifled a small moan. "I took a cold shower."
Linda nodded, as if that made all the sense in the world. Perhaps
it did.
After a moment, Dawn said, "Any idea where we can scrounge
breakfast?"
Linda placed her hands on her hips, and an expression of
concentration flowed across her features.
"He got a room service cart from somewhere."
Dawn nodded, remembering the cart in the front foyer.
"But it's probably not much good now," Linda continued. "We can look
for another, I suppose."
Dawn followed Linda from the room. Linda's bare feet whispered over
the carpet until she reached the front door. She hesitated there,
glancing back towards the bedroom.
"Why don't you get dressed?" she said to Dawn.
Dawn looked down, and realised that all she wore was the robe. She
shrugged. "Will anyone see us?"
Linda laughed. "I doubt it. I don't have much choice, though."
"You could wear the robe," Dawn said. Her fingers began to release
the belt.
A worried expression flowed over Linda's face. She spoke slowly.
"I. I trust you, Dawn. I really do. But if he comes back and finds
me ... anything other than naked. I don't think you can save me. And
I can't go through that again. I can't."
Dawn nodded slowly. She could sense him -- he was far away,
somewhere to the north, and judging by the spin of his tennis ball,
he was relaxed, probably sleeping. Dawn took a deep breath. Her
breasts were nearly in fits even thinking about it. She closed her
eyes, and dropped the robe. It slid down her bare skin until it
pooled around her ankles.
"Let's go," she whispered.
Linda cast her a quizzical glance, but then slipped between the
small gap in the door, out past Mark, and down the hallway. After a
second, when her mind was unable to convince her body otherwise,
Dawn followed, shivering as her bare nipples rubbed gently at the
door as she passed. A small moan escaped her, as desire began to
seep back into her being.
It was going to be a long, long day.
<---===***===--->
Somewhere on the eighth floor, Linda cried out in triumph, and ran
ahead towards a figure in the middle of the hallway. As Dawn caught
up at a more sedate pace, she saw that the figure was a bellboy, or
rather a bell girl, dressed in red, and pushing a cart with a large
shiny cover.
Linda stood on one side of the cart, her fingers extended and hooked
around the handle of the tray. It didn't budge, as frozen as the
girl pushing the cart.
"It's cold," Linda said quietly. She pulled her fingers away.
"Dead."
Dawn shivered, memories of touching people in her initial panic in
the school flowing through her. Dead. All dead.
"Stand back," Dawn whispered, and Linda did so, prancing away from
the cart and the girl.
"You aren't going to wake her, are you?" Linda asked. Her arm stole
to cover her exposed breasts, and she began to turn her nudity
towards the hallway wall.
"I doubt very much if I could," Dawn said. What she didn't add was
an admission that she wasn't sure that she could even free the
inanimate objects on the cart. She could feel the sexuality blossom
in her as she began to push her time bubble to encase the cart, or
failing that, to enclose the tray of food. Standing nude in the
middle of this hotel hallway, didn't help. She groaned, as her
nipples and clitoris cried out for a touch. She willed her hands to
her side.
But the release of last night -- the sweet release -- seemed to
still have residual effect, as the bubble enclosed over the tray.
In a daze, she reached forward and picked up the tray. As soon as
she touched it, the bubble remained without conscious thought, and
though the results raced through her nerves, she smiled.
"Breakfast," she whispered.
Linda managed to grab the tray before Dawn fell to her knees,
breathing heavily and crying.
<---===***===--->
The tray sat between them, a mound of fresh fruit and cream,
tickling Dawn's senses. Linda sat cross-legged, her back leaning
easily against the wall. The bell girl stared down the hallway in
the opposite direction.
Linda patted her tummy, and smiled. "I recommend the fruit tray,"
she said with a laugh. She settled back, resting.
Dawn grinned, and popped a last piece of cantaloupe into her mouth
and chewed at the sweetness. The flashes of sexuality had fallen
back to acceptable levels. She no longer dreamed of ravishing Linda
-- at least nothing that she couldn't handle.
"Glad you liked it."
"Why is freeing things so hard for you?" Linda asked quietly. "I
thought you were going to die back there."
Dawn sighed, and closed her eyes. "It's hard to explain."
"Does it hurt?"
Dawn laughed. "Not really -- it's more like -- it's embarrassing."
"Embarrassing?"
Dawn nodded mutely. Linda leaned forward, her elbows resting on her
knees.
"Dawn, I've been stripped naked, and forced to have sex with other
girls -- no offence -- but I'm not really lesbian. I've been tied
up, my nipples clamped, my tits connected to my ankles and whipped.
I've been made to beg, naked, and alone. And you're embarrassed?"
Dawn shook her head. "I'm sorry about all that."
"Are you sorry about last night?"
Dawn looked down. Her own legs were crossed in front of her, and she
could faintly smell her arousal, intermixed with the scent of
strawberries and cream. It wasn't a noxious scent, quite the
opposite. She was clean, and at the moment, only mildly aroused.
"A little, Linda."
Linda was quiet for a moment, and when Dawn looked up, Linda seemed
to be crying.
"I'm alone here," Linda said. "Mark isn't here, and I've known him
all my life. He's always taken care of me. I've never known anyone
else but him. And he's wonderful. I'm embarrassed about what we did
last night, too, but I wouldn't change it. I'd do it again, too, if
you wanted. I think you saved me, and you tried -- to save Mark,
too."
Dawn was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was barely
above a whisper.
"When I free things, my body squeezes."
"Squeezes?"
"I don't know how to explain it. I -- get horny -- aroused. It
hurts, I need sex so badly. I try to fight it, but then things like
last night happen." Dawn paused. "Actually, that's the only time it
happened. Usually, I just ..."
Linda nodded as if she understood. "Why can't you free her?" She
nodded towards the girl dressed in red, standing oblivious above the
seated girls.
"People are harder. It hurts more. It squeezes more."
"Oh," Linda said. After a moment, she spoke to the floor at her
feet. "We can do it again, if it will help you. I don't mind."
Dawn sighed. At the mention of repeating last night, her breasts and
between her legs sang out in affirmation. She willed away the
sensations.
"I can't," Dawn said. "Last night was ... different."
"I liked last night. I know I won't remember it when all is said and
done, but I liked last night."
Dawn pushed herself to her feet. As Linda reached up to grasp her
fingers lightly to pull her own body up, the touch ignited more
passions in Dawn, and she groaned without being able to stop it.
(Oh, yes. I liked last night, too.)
Without thought she bent to kiss Linda. When their lips met, arousal
exploded within Dawn, and another moan escaped. Her body bade her
follow, but she forced herself back as the kiss broke.
Joining hands, the girls began to return to the honeymoon suite, two
floors above. Behind them, the fruit tray jumped instantaneously
from the floor, back onto the tray in front of the bell girl. As it
did so, Dawn tightened her grasp on Linda's fingers. With a smile,
Linda tightened her own grip.
Chapter 118
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"Are you sure?" Linda asked.
Linda perched upon the tiles, her legs emersed in the hot tub. The
tub once again bubbled beneath the windows.
Dawn stood easily below the deck, her hands grasped easily behind
her bare back. Slowly, she shook her head.
(No. I'm not sure. I want nothing but to fuck you again.
All day and all night, and forget about this insane stopped
world that we are suddenly a part of. I want to kiss you,
and slip my fingers inside of you, pumping and licking,
and loving. I want to taste you, and have you taste me.
And I don't want this fucking responsibility anymore.
I don't. I don't. I don't.)
"I want to, Linda. I do. But I shouldn't."
Linda peered down at Dawn skeptically. "We're outside of Time.
Nobody will ever know. Not Mark, and not even me. Are you sure. I
certainly don't mind. I even want to."
It took all her willpower to deny her breasts.
"I'm sure."
Linda nodded, as if she understood, and pushed herself slowly off
the edge and into the bubbles. She sighed as she settled beneath the
warm water.
Dawn stepped forward, and settled herself on the edge. She hesitated
for a moment, then slipped her feet into the tub with Linda. She
sighed as the water encased her bare feet. Surprised, she realised
that they ached with the rest of her.
"Changed your mind?" Linda said. A smile graced her soft lips.
With a start, Dawn realised that her toes on her right foot had
slipped between Linda's thighs, and were lightly stroking the bare
skin underwater. She pulled her foot from Linda. For a moment, Linda
seemed disappointed, but then composed herself again, not returning
her thigh to Dawn's foot, even though she might have easily.
"I'm sorry," Dawn whispered.
"One for the road," Linda said in a husky whisper.
Dawn shook her head. Her breasts screamed at her, begging for
Linda's gentle fingers, once again.
"Come with me," Dawn said. "Not because of the sex -- though it is
good, you know that -- because you should come with me. It's not
over yet."
"He'll kill me," Linda said. Fear etched onto her face.
"I can protect you. He doesn't even know you aren't here."
Linda laughed, her voice almost regretful.
"I felt him."
"What?"
Dawn glanced around, as if the Timeman had snuck up behind her. And
she hadn't even dressed yet. For some reason, that bothered her.
Meeting the Timeman naked. That wouldn't be good for a girl, would
it?
"Last night."
"Last night? When?"
Linda hesitated. "In my head -- distant and far away. I wasn't
afraid, not then, but he heard me. I'm sure of it."
"Heard what?"
Linda hesitated. "When I -- er -- when you -- and I -- um --"
Dawn sighed, shifting her eyes downwards. The top slopes of Linda's
breasts peeked above the bubbles. She completed the sentence for
Linda.
"Climaxed?"
Linda nodded. "He was in my head. He heard me. I can't explain it."
Dawn sighed, dread beginning to replace some of the arousal. He
knew. Somehow, he knew. And it wasn't so much the lesbian encounter
that bothered her -- but rather that he knew that she was there. It
filled her belly with unease and trepidation. But also with
anticipation.
"Come with me."
Tears now tracked down Linda's cheeks, as she shook her head.
"I want to, Dawn. I do. It's not the fear, it's not him. I swear
it."
"Then come with me."
"I can't leave Mark. This isn't real -- not for me. Not you and me.
I enjoyed it -- perhaps more so because it isn't real. I got to
experience you -- and nobody will ever know -- not even me. It was
-- free. Do you understand?"
Dawn nodded. Tears filled her eyes.
"I can't leave him. I've had fun, in a way -- not the torture, but
-- with you. But I can't leave him. I can't. Don't you understand
that? I love him."
Dawn nodded. She pulled her feet from the bath, and pushed herself
up. She dripped on the tile, her feet suddenly chilled outside of
the hot tub.
Thoughts of John, and that last night -- Hawking flying through the
air towards her head -- permeated her mind. Dawn sighed. Merely
because John had been a shit, didn't mean that Mark was.
"I understand," Dawn said slowly.
Linda nodded, and Dawn bent to kiss her cheek. At the last second,
Linda turned, and the girls connected at the lips. Shivers flitted
through Dawn's spine as Linda's tongue probed, for only a moment,
then retreated.
"I really enjoyed last night," Linda whispered.
"Me, too," Dawn said as she straightened.
(More than you can know.)
"Good-bye," Dawn said quietly.
Before Linda could respond, Dawn withdrew the bubble, and Linda fell
back into slower time, again slipping into the control of the
Timeman, and out of Dawn's influence.
"Good-bye," Dawn whispered again.
She turned away, and moved towards the bedroom, not bothering with
the white robe that remained near the front entrance, her bare feet
whispering across the carpet.
<---===***===--->
It almost felt odd, pulling her panties and her jeans over her legs.
Barefoot, she gathered the remainder of her clothing, her bra, and
her sweatshirt, and her shoes and socks, and wandered back out to
the sitting area where she could see Linda's frozen form lounging in
the bathtub.
She missed her already, and she was still there.
Dawn settled into a sofa, and closed her eyes. She could see the
tennis balls, all the girls somewhere to the north, and Linda and
Mark's presence close and comforting. The Timeman's ball spun lazily
near the northern girls.
She gasped as his ball sped up momentarily, then like the voice of a
ghost, her own name filtered through the haze.
"Dawn," a male voice whispered, close and cloying within the
confines of her mind.
(He was in my mind, I can't explain it.)
Dawn shivered, and wrapped her arms about her breasts, allowing her
top and shoes to tumble to the floor at her feet. She glanced at
Linda.
(I want her. I want her. I want her.)
But did she want her for company, or much more? The answer was
scary, and Dawn pushed the thoughts from her mind.
Without thinking, she pushed herself up and walked over to the tub.
Linda lounged peacefully within the confines of frozen bubbles.
(Linda. Linda. Linda.)
Before she even realised what she was doing, she pushed the time
bubble. It hesitated at Linda's bare skin. Dawn could feel her,
almost like last night, close and soft beneath the water. Dawn's
breasts tingled, partially in memory, partially in anticipation.
(Mark. I love him.)
With one last push, Dawn forced the bubble outward, away from
herself.
(No. Yes. No. Yes. Mark. John. Sex.)
With a final cry, Dawn collapsed, her breasts throbbing, her
clitoris fairly screaming in desire. Dawn squeezed her eyes shut,
trying to block the images.
Her on her knees, naked, licking Linda. Linda naked on her knees,
licking. Licking. Teeth. Thighs. Bellies. Nipples. Kisses.
With a groan, Dawn forced her fingers from the junction of her
thighs. Her jeans felt damp down there, but Dawn wasn't sure if it
was internal, or external. The tiles were still damp from her exit
from the tub, long ago.
If she climaxed here -- maybe -- just maybe -- she could force the
bubble to encase Linda again. Just maybe.
(Please no. I don't want to. It isn't fair on her.)
The bubble collapsed inward, and after a few minutes, Dawn rose to
her hands and knees, crying -- frustration and shame fighting for
dominance within her mind.
"Linda," Dawn whispered. "I can't do it."
But she could. She knew she could. If only for Linda. All it would
take is three pinches of her right nipple, and her fingers working
between her legs. Like ... this.
She tore her fingers from her vagina, scratching her wrist on the
rough material of her blue jeans.
(But it feels so good. Please. Just for a moment longer.)
Crying out, she ran back towards her clothing. She slipped on the
sweatshirt, without bothering with her bra, then picking up her
shoes and socks, she ran towards the doorway.
"I'm sorry, Linda. So sorry," she whispered.
She stood near the doorway, her fingers on the unmoving knob. Mark
stood hunched over outside, on the other side of the gap. Linda lay,
unaware beneath her bubbles.
With a final look, Dawn slipped out, her breasts dragging, and
crying out with demands. She danced around Mark, and ran down the
hallway.
It wasn't until she was safely in the fire stairs that she sat and
pulled socks over her bare toes, and then jammed her feet into her
runners.
Then carrying her bra, she ran down the ten flights without pausing.
<---===***===--->
Breathing hard, both from the descent, and from pure arousal, Dawn
sat down on the curb, fresh air and bright noon sunlight caressing
her face.
She glanced up and down the street. Frozen people seemed to be
staring at her from both direction on the sidewalk. Ignoring them,
she stood. Her body continued to shake, but the inexplicable arousal
had retreated a little. She could concentrate beyond the desire to
bury her fingers within herself.
She stared at the piece of cloth dangling from her hand. It seemed
obscene to put the bra back around herself, trapping her breasts.
Her impulse was to throw it into the gutter. Nobody here would care
if she wore a bra. The only other shithead alive would actually,
likely, prefer if she didn't wear any clothing, she was sure.
"Fuck it," she said simply.
She placed the strip of white cloth on the hood of a frozen BMW,
where an old lady, and perhaps her granddaughter stared out into
traffic that wasn't there.
With one motion, she whipped the sweatshirt from her body, suddenly
sure that with her luck, the world would start up again while she
stood half naked, and bare breasted in the middle of Front Street.
She closed her eyes, and returned the bra to its rightful place,
shrugging by rote into the straps.
She had no idea that she would voluntarily be giving up this symbol
of modesty far sooner than she expected.
She slipped the sweatshirt back over her head, and opened her eyes
again after it was settled over her waist.
With a sigh, she walked to her Buick, and opened the door. It opened
easily, it remaining in her time. An image of herself,
masturbating, infused her -- teasing her with memories of how she'd
had to struggle to obtain this simple mode of transport. And that
had been magnitudes simpler to achieve than freeing Linda from her
prison of Time.
Dawn fought the impulses to touch herself, twisting the key in the
ignition.
It seemed to be getting stronger -- the sexual pressures -- the
results of this Timeline. It might kill her, or turn her into a
raving nymphomaniac. Whatever the outcome, it was definitely getting
stronger, the closer she drew to him. One way or the other, she had
to try.
With a sigh, she twisted the steering wheel. She glanced up once --
she imagined that she could see Linda standing naked and waving from
ten floors up. Of course, that was impossible, but a tingle raced
through her just the same.
(North. He's north.)
She didn't know how she knew that he was north of her, but the urge
was implanted within her. Alone, now, she felt like a migrating
bird.
North.
The Buick turned neatly under her control, and she began to weave
slowly through the stopped traffic.
North.
North.
North.
<---===***===--->
The combination of a bus, and two lanes of opposing traffic
conspired against the Buick and Dawn. She could sense him, close and
cloying. Dread and danger settled deep into her belly.
"Shit," she whispered. Her eyes scanned the traffic, while her
fingers drummed against the wheel.
Below, her breasts and clitoris seemed to complain more and more as
she travelled slowly north. It had been hours since she had left the
Westin, picking her way slowly northward out of the city centre, and
towards him and his naked girls.
She still didn't understand the relationship between Kate, and
Leigh, and the Timeman -- was sure that she didn't want to know. But
she couldn't sit idly by and let him continue to whip them and
attach clothespins to them. Continue to frustrate them, even while
she was sucked into the fantasy, no matter how much she didn't want
to see the girls naked, on their knees, begging, and crying, her own
desires inexplicably linked to Kate, and Leigh, and the others. She
couldn't sit still and safe -- not any longer.
Her breasts ached.
With a sigh, she threw the gearshift into Park, and slipped from the
vehicle, softly closing the door. She left the keys dangling from
the ignition. Who would steal the car -- in this world? Even in the
real world, she doubted if anyone would be desperate enough to steal
the hunk of tin.
"Time to hoof it," she said to herself as she stepped up onto the
sidewalk. The cool air caressed her face as she began to walk north,
leaving the Buick parked behind the bus.
<---===***===--->
The houses were more like castles on this street, tucked into the
centre of the metropolis. She'd only been in this part of town a few
times in her life, and of those, she had never stopped. The people
who lived in neighbourhoods like this kept guard dogs, and security
systems which would alert the police to any trespassers. Imposing
gates slipped by as she walked along the shoulder of the roadway.
(Here. Here. Here.)
She halted, the sounds of her running shoes scraping to a stop.
The gates here were open. She'd seen this home before.
Something caught her attention -- something minute. Something out of
place in this strange and silent world.
She swayed, allowing her shoulder to touch the warm brick of the
gate. It wasn't cold and distant as most of the world. It took her
a moment to understand what was unusual.
A black squirrel stood on its hind paws and chittered at her, as if
challenging her, like a guard squirrel. A squirrel. Common enough
in her old world -- a nuisance, even.
Abandon all hope, all ye who enter here.
(Here. Here. Here.)
She sighed, and slipped around the black metal gates, her fingers
trailing along the cold metal. The house beyond looked eerily
familiar, until she recognised the entrance marble from one of her
visions -- one where she'd been Kate, naked and collared. She
shivered as the memory drove more desire deep into her. She had the
nearly irresistible urge to strip, here and now -- use her fingers,
irrationally sure that her arousal would reveal her presence, but to
silence her raging hormones would blanket her in a shroud of
obscurity.
Instead, unheeding of the damp earth, she slipped into the gardens,
and crept towards the house. Every twig that snapped under her foot,
and every leave that rustled, made her jump, heart racing.
Spring flowers, a mixture of tulips and daffodils, sprung from the
black earth beyond the pines under which she crouched. The sharp
tang of pine needles surrounded her.
She could sense them, vaguely, within, spinning beyond the brick and
mortar rising like a shield beyond the cover of the branches where
she crouched.
Her heart sped up. They weren't asleep. The girls within were all
awake, and the larger more distinct ball of the Timeman spun closer
and more dangerously than did the girls. She was unable to determine
their specific activities, but they were all near one another,
moving about with wakeful purpose.
Dawn shivered, and crept closer.
Chapter 119
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
He awoke, disoriented, two weights pressing gently against his
shoulders. The soft scent of clover infused his nostrils. It took
him a moment to realise that the weights were heads, and the sweet
scent of clover rose from soft feminine hair intermixed upon his
chest -- strands of brunette and crimson.
Leigh mumbled something completely incoherent as he quietly shifted
from beneath her. Kate made soft noises of complaint as he gently
moved her head from his shoulder to the pillow. Carefully, he pulled
the covers back over the girls, and padded to the sofa. There,
Monique lay, still tied to Andrea, their bare skin touching at the
hips and breasts. Despite all her protests, Monique slept, her eyes
closed, and her ribcage rising and falling. Her fingers twitched
occasionally behind her back. Andrea looked more peaceful, her head
propped against the sofa arm. He grimaced, sure that the girls would
be sore when they awakened, but not able to do anything about that
at the moment. He turned towards the last girl. Nicole's eyes
fluttered open as he approached, and she smiled. She pulled at her
bound hands for a moment, but then relaxed as he placed his fingers
against her lips.
"Shhhh," he said. Nicole nodded, and he released her mouth.
"Good morning," Nicole said in a whisper.
"You can sleep a little longer, if you like," he said.
Nicole nodded, almost thankfully, and lay her head back down. He
tucked the blanket around her nudity, and kissed her gently on her
uninjured cheek. Nicole smiled again, and before he even had
straightened, she seemed to fall asleep again.
A flash of her screaming in night terror touched him, and he
shivered for a moment. This girl was never going to be peaceful.
Ironically, as she sat in a living room chair, naked and handcuffed,
it was probably the most comfort that she'd enjoyed since returning
to this house after dropping out of school.
With a small sigh, he padded from the room, and into the kitchen.
Noon sunlight lit the room. It felt wrong -- the light should have
been more on the horizon, filtering in with cool rays of morning
light. He shrugged, and opened the refrigerator.
He stood without moving for a moment, his head cocked to the side,
almost as if he were listening for an intruder.
She was back. Her presence lay exactly at the mental coordinates in
which he'd left her. Linda, the girl in the honeymoon suite, had
returned to his control. Even from here, he could wake her, and free
her into the hot tub in which she undoubtedly still lay. He didn't.
Almost in a panic, he cast about, looking for that shielded presence
-- the girl. Dawn. The one of the dusty blonde hair. He wasn't
exactly sure, but he didn't feel her in the hotel suite any longer.
She'd released Linda back under his control, and disappeared, as if
she were smoke amongst the haze.
He stood with one hand upon the refrigerator door, cool air washing
over his jeans. The door rattled as he gripped it, the knuckles of
his left hand turning white.
Where? Where? Where?
Linda was back. Dawn was gone.
Images of Dawn crouching outside the gate, brandishing a shotgun
flitted through his mind. He narrowed his mind, like a searchlight,
casting closer to the mansion.
Oh yes, she was close. Not here. Not yet. But close.
He wasn't afraid of her. Her approach seemed -- inevitable. Fated.
Balanced. He wasn't sure. But he would have to meet the girl. She
might not like it, any more than he did, but somehow, it seemed
determined and unavoidable.
He didn't know where she was, or even if she truly existed, but a
sense of nervous anticipation rumbled through him. The door rattled
again, breaking his concentration.
A soft laugh issued from his lips.
He was fairly certain that he could stop a shotgun from firing. She
might control time, somewhat, but could she free a trigger if he
chose to freeze it? He envisioned a tug or war, shifting the balance
of time between two -- him and her. In each iteration of the vision,
his side of the celestial rope shifted away from hers, tightening,
pulling Dawn forward through brute and uncompromising strength. If
he were so strong, though, why couldn't he pinpoint her presence?
Why?
Worst case, could he not simply raise a shield of frozen air about
himself, stopping the bullet before it reached his heart?
What if she shot before he saw her?
He shivered. Not likely to happen. Somehow, he knew her, almost as
if she were a sister, or a close lover. She wouldn't shoot him, not
without provocation, not without confrontation. Not Dawn.
He relaxed a little, even though he had no idea of how he knew with
so much certainty that she was no danger to his person.
She was coming. Oh, yes. Dawn approached. He could sense her,
vaguely through the mists. She was real. And she was coming.
He bit at his lower lip, and reached into the refrigerator. The
door snicked shut as he rested a container of orange juice upon the
counter.
Dawn approached. And when she finally made the pilgrimage to him, he
would be ready for her. He had to be. For the sake of everyone.
<---===***===--->
He carried the glass of orange juice carefully. Though it didn't
much matter if he spilled it -- not here and now -- habit guided his
arm and hand as he stepped into the living room where the girls
continued to sleep peacefully.
His penis throbbed almost painfully as Leigh turned over. The
blanket fell from her skin, revealing a single bared breast, peeking
out from the tangle of the covers. Her breathing continued, soft and
steady.
Yes. He wanted her, and she was so available, and even willing.
Leigh, and Kate, and Andrea, and Monique, and probably even Nicole.
If he wanted, all he need do now was ask them. Each girl would
gladly satisfy his every whim, within limits. And for some of them,
sex was within their limits. Oh, yes. Bound. Naked. Helpless. And it
aroused him. Without question his power over them aroused him.
Painfully.
He didn't understand why he waited. It was more than simply an
unwillingness to force himself directly upon their bodies. Rape was
an ugly word, but he wasn't stupid. Even standing here, watching
them sleep, bound, was probably technically rape, if there were
judges and lawyers and police to make that determination in an
unbiased manner. In the very least, sexual assault, and those were
ugly words, too. He wasn't stupid. If it weren't for the timeline
aspect, he supposed, the thought of doing this to the girls would be
completely unacceptable. Keeping them in chains, helpless and naked,
against their will, unconscionable. Somehow, and he didn't
understand it, he had carried over the old inhibitions. Rape was an
ugly word, no matter where one stood, no matter how it was
rationalised.
He could rape them -- but did he want to? That was the question.
His feet whispered over the carpet silently, the girls blissfully
unaware of his early presence. They had reason to be tired, and he
was more than willing to let them sleep. The pit in his stomach
suggested that they might very well have a trying day ahead. Let
them sleep in.
He turned at the doorway, watching them again.
Leigh's nipple rose and fell, lifting the sheet gently in cadence
with her sleep breathing. Her nipple tempted him, called to him. His
penis ached in response, demanding. He wanted to sigh, but didn't.
Leigh and Kate and Andrea and Monique and Nicole were exceptionally
beautiful in their own ways. He'd kept them. Forced them. Done
things to them and with them that fell beyond the realms of
controlling fantasies. And he was aroused. He wanted them all.
But was it enough to cause this?
His penis throbbed, and while it throbbed in rhythm with Leigh's
rising and falling breast, he was sure that there was more to this.
Dawn.
He felt her, joined to her, even if he couldn't sense her. She was
suffering somewhere, though he didn't fully understand. But it had
to do with his state of arousal. As she moved closer to him, through
the mists of Time, his arousal become more and more in control of
his being. His concentration was flagging, and the control over Time
would become tenuous as she approached.
With a flash, he understood. Somehow. She was aroused, not so much
from the control, as was he, but more because of what she'd seen,
had to do to survive in this strange and mixed up world.
Something similar was happening to Leigh, and Kate, and maybe Andrea
and Monique. Time control was changing them, changing their hormones
in strange and arousing ways, to the point of tears of sexual
frustration. And he was keeping them from satisfaction, with the
purest form of control.
He sighed.
Dawn approached. Might even be here.
His penis ached.
He glanced one last time at Leigh. He was tempted to cross the room
and cover her again, but he knew that his will at fighting the
impulses was weakening. He needed to think. To approach Leigh now,
would be to ravish her. And while it had its appeal, that ugly word
rose unbidden from the depths of his mind. It did nothing to quell
the ache, but he slowly turned away, walking through silent
corridors towards the back of the house, leaving the tease of the
naked girls safely sleeping in the living room.
God. His penis ached.
<---===***===--->
He sipped at his orange juice, gazing out across the expanse of the
estate that he'd co-opted into his base. The immaculate lawn rolled
away from the house ending in well tended gardens.
Coming from outside, one would never presume that Nicole might be
suffering untold and very real torments within the confines of this
perfect palace. He sighed again, and sipped at the orange juice.
He sat in the junction of the wall, the bay shelf, and the oversized
window itself, enjoying the mellow warmth of the unusual
morning-noon sunshine. Except for the height of the sun, it was
morning. His belly rumbled, complaining that the orange juice simply
was not enough to maintain the energy level required to keep the
universe in check.
He would have to wake them soon. He doubted if the girls would mind.
Someone would know how to cook breakfast and his belly rumbled
assent.
He shifted his position, draining the last of the juice and setting
the glass on the shelf beside his thigh.
Dawn was approaching. Might even be here already.
The gardens beyond the glass of the window remained silent and
still.
She was out there. Somewhere. Dangerous. Uncontrolled.
(Beautiful.)
Movement caught his eyes, and he gasped, unaware of the tightness in
his strung muscles. His eyes darted across the cropped lawn.
Movement? Where? Where? Where?
After a moment, the movement repeated itself.
A black squirrel rose up on its hind legs, searching for food, or
company of which it might never find. Not here.
His body relaxed, and the squirrel scampered through the blades of
grass towards the front of the house, something there catching its
attention.
He picked up the glass. He could have one of the girls retrieve the
glass later -- any of them would have performed the small, safe,
task without complaint, but he hefted the juice glass in his left
hand and swung his legs down.
Dawn approached. She might even be here already.
Not much he could do about it yet, but a plan began to form within
his mind. He didn't think the frightened girl would approach and
knock on the door. Oh no. In fact, if she were smart, she would
never even show herself. And if there was one thing he was certain
of, Dawn wasn't stupid either. No. There would be no knock on the
front door. There would be no announcement of her presence. At
least not until she was ready. And by then, a bullet might be racing
at his head.
The glimmering of a plan coalesced, and he smiled.
Chapter 120
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The too bright morning light grated harshly into Leigh's eyes
through her eyelids, rousing her from a pleasant dream where she
wasn't naked, and she wasn't bound, and people moved around as they
were supposed to. Squirrels, too, for that matter.
"What?" she muttered, moving her shoulder as best she could in an
attempt to avoid the shaking hand that was placed there.
A voice, feminine and close to her ear, whispered urgently. Leigh
vaguely recognised the voice, but couldn't quite reconcile the
presence of the popular girl from school, Kate, with her comfortable
bedroom.
"Wake up, Leigh. He wants us awake now. You have to get up."
"In a minute, Mom. It's Saturday."
The gentle fingers returned to her shoulder, and shook her
insistently again. The sound of chains jingling reached her ears,
close and confusing. Her hands were trapped behind her -- when she
tried to raise them to brush away the insistent fingers on her
shoulder, only her shoulders complained, and loudly, but her hands
remained stubbornly behind her back.
"I have no idea what day it is anymore, but it isn't Saturday. Come
on, Leigh, you have to wake up."
A soft pair of lips brushed her cheek, and Leigh opened her eyes,
blinking and disoriented. Kate knelt beside her on the pull-out bed,
smiling, her red hair tangled, but shiny upon her bare shoulders.
Kate's hands were free, and as Leigh finally opened her eyes to the
strange morning, Kate pulled her hands back from her insistent
shaking.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," a male voice said quietly from behind
her.
It came flooding back to her, and Leigh groaned, working herself
over to her side, releasing her hands from their prison between the
small of her back and the mattress. The covers still lay across her
body, and she flushed, realising that her clothing lay folded neatly
in English class, a remarkably long way from here.
She bit her lip, but tried to smile up at the naked redhead beside
her. The covers slipped from her nudity, and Leigh felt the flush
rising more insistently through her face.
A click, and a jingle later, and her hands were no longer trapped
behind her back. She could barely move her arms, but with some
effort, she did, her hands appearing in front of her face as though
they were made from wood. The fingers didn't want to obey her
mental commands.
Kate flashed her a grin, and swung her bare legs from the bed.
"Good morning, and welcome to our world," she whispered.
Leigh was vaguely aware of the Timeman moving away from her. She
was absurdly happy that he was no longer paying attention to her,
though the memories came flooding back. She had been tied to tables,
and basketball nets, naked and open, and helpless to stop him from
ogling her body as much as he desired. Slowly, she sat up. He
approached Monique and Andrea, who were stirring, but tied far worse
than Leigh had been, upon the sofa. The two girls had been tied
breast to breast, and belly to belly. God knew how they had slept at
all.
Kate leaned back on her hands, her bare breasts thrusting forward.
It made no sense to Leigh, but the image pushed tendrils of arousal
through her. Then she remembered last night, nearly out of her mind
with sex, wanting anyone -- the Timeman, Kate, Andrea -- or maybe
all of them at once.
Her fingers began to obey her, and Kate watched her hands intently.
"It's going to hurt, Leigh."
"What is?"
Then the pain hit her -- tingling, insistent fire, racing through
the sleeping nerves of her forearms and mostly her hands. Leigh
cried out, before she could stop it, an animal cry rising from her
throat. She clamped it off as soon as she was able, but it had
thrust the other girls from their more gentle waking. Nicole sat
upright her eyes fearful and staring. Still the pain, like needles
and pins thrust through her skin, tipped with acid, kissed her
palms, her fingers, even under her fingernails.
Kate moved quickly down the bed, waving at the Timeman. He turned
away, gently soothing Andrea and Monique who remained bound and
lying on the sofa. Leigh cradled her hands, tears streaming down her
face. Even the movement of her limbs through the air intensified the
sensations, and she stifled another cry, trying to keep still.
"I told you," Kate said. Incredibly, she grinned. "Same thing
happened to me, before I woke you."
"It hurts. It hurts," Leigh moaned.
"He does know how to torture us," Kate said good-naturedly.
"It hurts."
"It will pass. Keep them still."
Leigh fought the impulse to throw herself into Kate's arms, knowing
that any sudden movement would drive new needles into her hands and
forearms. But after a moment, as if fuelled by Kate's words, the
sensations began to ease. The tears still fell, but the quiet sobs
withered away as her nerves settled back to a more normal place.
"See?"
Leigh nodded. Kate reached forward, and took Leigh's hands into her
own. Gently, Kate's fingers rubbed the last of the needles from her
skin, and with a sigh, Leigh returned her hands to her lap.
"God, that hurt."
Kate nodded. "Better than being whipped, though."
Leigh paled, and glanced at the Timeman. He was whispering to the
two bound girls on the sofa. Kate watched him for a moment, too,
then returned her gaze to Leigh.
"We're still here," she said almost glumly.
"And we're still alive," Leigh managed to find a smile. "I just wish
we had some clothes."
"When you find the Genie in the lamp, let me know. I have a few
wishes of my own."
Leigh laughed, and settled down to wait for the other girls to rise,
and works the kinks of the uncomfortable night from their naked
bodies.
<---===***===--->
Monique sat moaning on the sofa, tears of pain and discomfort
falling from her eyes. Leigh wanted to go to the girl, but Andrea,
who had to be equally as uncomfortable, seemed to have the situation
under control, her arms wrapped around the naked lawyer, smoothing
her sleep mussed hair as best she could.
To the side, the Timeman released Nicole who said something too
quietly to be heard, but the Timeman smiled and nodded.
Leigh wrapped her arms about her knees, waiting. That was the
hardest part about all this -- not quite knowing what was coming
next. The Timeman seemed mostly in control, most of the time, even
seeming kind occasionally. In other circumstances, Leigh thought,
she might even be mildly attracted to him.
Who was she kidding? She'd nearly begged the man to ravish her last
night -- along with Kate. A flush began to rise into her face again,
but she managed to fight it down before it reddened her cheeks.
There was a lot to be embarrassed about here, but last night really
took the cake. She'd begged him to rape her.
She shook her head.
Kate sat easily beside her, watching Monique and Andrea, indecision
reflected in her face. Her face reflected a desire to help, too, but
the redhead resisted the urge. Andrea seemed to have Monique under a
semblance of control.
Kate was another unlikely pairing. The girl was popular -- how
couldn't she be? Tall, slim, red haired. And seeing her without her
clothing -- that explained all. Of all the girls in school to be
paired with in this nightmare, she wouldn't have guessed Kate would
be here with her, caring and kind. Actually, Kate made more sense --
at least from a physical standpoint. Leigh wasn't popular. Smart,
perhaps. Even reasonably attractive. But popular? No. She was hardly
the cheerleading type. She glanced at her own nudity. This wasn't
the time for vanity, silly comparisons, was it? Kate and her were in
this together, like it or not.
Kate turned and smiled at her. Without thinking, Leigh smiled back.
A tingle flittered down her spine. She knew what it meant, but
didn't want to think about it. It was all tied into last night, if
one could call it night with the sun shining as if lunch were about
to be served.
Monique rubbed at her neck. Silent tears dripped down her face.
Andrea's face reflected the same discomfort as Monique's but somehow
Andrea seemed to be controlling her own tears. But to Leigh, it was
obvious. The blonde haired girl wanted to cry -- but wasn't.
Andrea's ministrations were providing her with an outlet, something
to keep her mind off her own pain.
The Timeman moved towards Andrea and Monique, crouched and spoke,
his words floating over to towards Kate and Leigh.
"... muscles sore?"
Monique touched her neck, and reached around to touch the small of
her back. She sniffled, hanging her head to look at the Timeman
below her. Andrea nodded.
"Me, too. I didn't realise it until you let us go. Christ, it feels
like we've been hit by a damn truck." Andrea groaned. "I don't
think I was designed to sleep like that."
The Timeman reached up and began to work his hands into Monique's
shoulders. For a second, Leigh thought that Monique would balk,
insist that he didn't touch her, but instead, she closed her eyes.
Each time he pressed, she moaned, flinching.
A small voice rose up from the opposite corner.
"I'm pretty good at massage," Nicole said quietly. "If you'd like, I
can do that for you. If you want to hurt her, though ..."
He looked up sharply, and pulled his fingers from Monique's skin.
"No. I didn't want to hurt her. I've never been able to give a
massage. I just thought I'd try to help her."
Unspoken was the guilt factor: since-I-caused-it.
Nicole pushed herself up from the chair, grimaced, but not in the
same way as Monique was. It was pain, but it was caused by her
broken ribs, or the bruise across her face. Leigh wasn't sure which.
Nicole looked more like she needed pain relief than Monique did.
Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Kate slip from the bed, and
head unimpeded towards the front hallway. If the Timeman objected to
her leaving without permission, he didn't voice it, though Leigh
noted that the man was fully aware of Kate's departure.
Nicole approached Monique, and lay her hands on Monique's shoulders.
"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" she said evenly.
With that, her fingers began to knead the naked girl, and instead of
the grunts of pain that had been her mantra before, Monique's eyes
widened and a contented sigh issued forth from her lips. Andrea
watched, cross-legged on the sofa, a wistful look in her eyes.
The Timeman began to walk towards the bed where Leigh sat. At
another time, Leigh might have shrunk back, but it would have done
no good. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to run. Time itself was
against her.
Half-way to the bed, the Timeman turned.
"Nicole?"
The girl looked up easily. There was no fear in her eyes. She'd
been to hell and back. This was a breeze. In this world, Nicole
merely was naked. She wasn't beaten before she slept. And only loose
handcuffs secured her. Leigh couldn't imagine the girl's life --
didn't even want to think about that animal upstairs and what he'd
done to his daughter.
"When Monique is done, can you do Andrea, too?"
"Of course," Nicole said easily. She resumed pressing her hands and
even her elbows into Monique's bare back. Andrea looked up and
smiled at her captor.
"Thank-you," she said simply.
"Thank Nicole, when she's done."
"I will."
Kate reappeared from the front hallway, and walked over towards
Nicole. She held out her right hand palm up. Nicole looked up, and
asked the Timeman with her eyes. He nodded, and she grasped the
analgesic into her hand.
"Don't," Kate said severely.
Nicole laughed.
"But, I'm used to it ..."
"I can't watch you dry swallow them. Hold on."
With that, Kate scampered across the room, back to where she had
placed the glass last night. A few drops remained. She picked it
up, and brought it to Nicole. Monique moaned once, but tried to keep
her pain down while Nicole dealt with hers.
Nicole smiled. To Leigh, it was obvious that there wasn't enough
water in the glass, but Nicole tried to please Kate. She popped the
pills onto her tongue and lifted the glass to her lips. Working her
throat, she swallowed, then winked at Leigh. Leigh couldn't help
smiling, but felt sad at the same time. Nicole was used to the
bitter taste, and doing as she was told, because her father demanded
it.
(As I'm getting used to being naked all the time.)
Nicole resumed her task, and Kate returned to sit on the bed. The
Timeman watched Nicole for a moment, then turned back towards Leigh
and Kate. He approached.
|
