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Chapter 131
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Kate watched as Leigh lowered herself to her knees. The coarse rope
dangled from her throat, between her breasts, as he released his
grip on it. The other girls, Andrea, and Monique and Nicole
followed, Nicole crying out in pain as something inside of her
pulled at the awkward position.
"Let Nicole out," Leigh begged, her voice floating across the
corridor. "She can't do whatever you have planned for us."
Kate closed her eyes. From her vantage point, it was frighteningly
obvious what the girls were going to have to do. Leigh looked like
she understood all too well what was going to be expected of her,
though she also looked like she would gladly do it, if only it would
be over soon. Pain and discomfort pinched at Leigh's normally clear
face. Leigh's mouth hovered at the level of Crystal's spread legs,
though she was turned from the sight of the other girl while she
pleaded with the Timeman.
"She's down," the Timeman muttered.
"She's hurt. Don't you remember Maurice? He kicked her? Broke her
ribs? Do you want to be like him?"
That seemed to rattle the Timeman, and he turned from Leigh. Kate
lowered her eyes for a moment, unease flowing through her. The
comparison to Maurice, Nicole's father, had occurred to her, too.
With this latest treatment of the girls, he was becoming harsher,
almost desperate. Hurting them without thought, without seeming
purpose, though Kate sensed something below the surface. If there
was purpose, she thought, it might make it all more bearable. But if
there was purpose, the Timeman wasn't sharing. Slowly, he turned his
eyes back to the kneeling, naked brunette. She shied away from his
gaze.
"I understand it's hard, Leigh. Believe me. But it's necessary."
"Maurice probably thought that, too," Leigh whispered.
A nagging thought pummelled Kate. She knew that Leigh was merely
trying to turn the tables, rattle the rattler, but underneath, she
sensed that Leigh knew as well as she did that the Timeman was
fundamentally different than the monster who had hated them merely
because they had breasts and vaginas. The Timeman didn't hate the
girls. He was merely doing what needed to be done. Kate sensed it,
more than ever, perhaps the knife flashing towards her and
harmlessly turned bringing the knowledge to her. He was protecting
them. From what, she had no idea. But she hoped that the danger
reared soon, or they might not survive his protection.
He sighed, and crouched beside Leigh. He whispered something to her,
that perhaps only Crystal above could hear. Her eyes widened a
little, and Leigh sighed. Without further protest, she turned to
face Crystal's bare skin. Down the line, Andrea, Monique and Nicole
did the same, as if each girl knew what she'd have to do -- no
matter how much each didn't want to perform this.
From the far end of the line, Nicole's voice lilted.
"Leigh. It's all right. I'll be fine. Honestly. I don't want special
treatment. I can do it."
Leigh nodded slowly, and then turned once more to the Timeman.
"If we are going to do this for you, can you at least untie our
arms? We aren't going to fight you, or run. We can't. Please?"
He slowly shook his head. Kate could have predicted that response.
Whatever danger he saw, it required that the girls be secure. She
didn't know why, but even if he wanted to free them, he wouldn't.
Somehow, it was for their own protection. Until the danger
presented, the girls would remain tied, and uncomfortable.
"You can be a real bastard," Leigh said. With that, she turned back
to Crystal, but not before Kate saw the tears shining in her eyes.
He smiled and nodded, then turned away from the group of eight naked
and bound girls.
<---===***===--->
Kate watched him warily as he approached her, wanting to back away,
knowing that the damnable rope would keep her steadily near the
bench. Her toes curled in towards the floor, drawing comfort from
its unmoving stability.
"It's time," he whispered.
Kate closed her eyes and nodded. She sensed as he moved behind her,
felt the numbness of pressure only as his fingers worked at the
knots behind her back.
"Ahhhh," she sighed as the ropes fell from her wrists and arms. She
made no attempt to move against him, she'd run into enough frozen
walls to know better. Instead, when the last of the ropes left her
skin, she lowered her arms, as though they were made of wood.
Memories of the morning, after lying on bound arms all night
awakened in her memory. Slowly she shook her head as if denying what
she knew was about to happen to her.
He led her, almost gently, by her throat towards a large tiled
pillar set in the middle of the concourse. It wasn't far from the
other girls, and he set her back to it. She didn't resist, actually
enjoying the sensations of the cool tile against the bare skin of
her back. The eight naked girls remained nearly motionless and
silent. Only Crystal's eyes followed Kate's small movements near the
pillar. Around Kate, silent pedestrians ignored her, some moving
towards stores, some moving away.
Kate closed her eyes and drew in breath with a hiss. It had begun,
as she had feared. Even without movement, the numbness in her arms
was rapidly fading, replaced at first by pleasant tingles, but
moving forward like a locomotive, driving bolts of searing pain into
her nerves. Her body rebelled against the restraints, screaming at
her that the human body hadn't been designed for such motionlessness
and discomfort.
Kate squeezed her eyes shut, feeling tears bursting free.
(Don't scream. Don't scream. He wants that. Don't scream.)
She could feel his fingers reaching for her right wrist.
Automatically, she tried to twist away, the brushing of his fingers
leaving burning fire across her skin. Bolts of pain, like lightning,
raced up her arm, shooting into her mind.
She couldn't stop it. A scream, guttural and deep, emerged from her
lips. Somewhere, someone was killing a woman, torturing her to
death, her cries making Kate cringe. Her mind was red with pain. And
still he pulled at her arms, ignoring her pathetic cries.
"Please, no. Give me a minute," she managed to rasp out. But he
moved her hand again, against the fire, and she began to scream
again. Dimly, she was aware of Leigh calling, screaming, too,
begging him to stop killing someone named Kate.
(Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.)
And then the kiss of ropes, wrapping her fiery wrists. Pulling,
tightening. Her body screamed out for relief, and as if her mind had
finally listened, the tingles began to recede from her hands, her
fingers, her forearms. Liquid metal began to turn back to simple
coolness.
Kate swallowed, perspiration running down her face, mixing with her
involuntary tears. She willed her throat to stop screaming and it
finally agreed to the commands of her brain. Somewhere, a voice
still screamed though, the words more coherent than Kate's own.
"Please, can't you let her be. You're killing her. Killing her.
Killing her."
Kate stared through the blur of tears, and saw Leigh, twisted from
Crystal, her voice rising almost hysterically.
"Leigh," Kate whispered. But the girl continued, her voice rising
almost into incoherency edging into madness.
"Killing her. Killing me. Please, stop this. Please. We're just
fucking girls. We don't deserve this. I don't want to lick her. I
don't. I don't. I don't."
Leigh paused for a moment, drawing breath. The Timeman slowly
continued to bind Kate to the pillar, ignoring Leigh, his mind
elsewhere, his expression blank. Kate suspected that he hadn't even
been aware of the screaming mad girl beyond what he was doing to her
-- Kate's pain merely a curious thing, like a caged tiger in a zoo.
"Leigh," Kate shouted, her voice also edging towards insanity. She
swallowed, blinking away the tears of pain as the pins and needles
fled her arms. "Stop. Please, Leigh. Stop." Her voice seemed to
calm, Leigh, somehow, and Leigh clapped her mouth shut with an
audible snap. "I'm not dying. It was only pins and needles. Only
pins and needles."
"He was killing you."
Kate shook her head slowly, not sure of that, but she was still
standing here, waiting while the Timeman wrapped her body again with
ropes.
"He wasn't. He isn't all there, but he's not killing me yet." Kate
paused for a moment. "You're scaring them, Leigh. You have to
stop."
Leigh drew in her breath, her breasts rising prettily between the
ropes that surrounded her body.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. Tears shone in her eyes, but she slowly
turned back to face Crystal. Gagged, Crystal mumbled something
towards Leigh, and tilted her hips towards her. Leigh sighed, and
leaned her head forward, resting it upon Crystal's pubic bone.
Crystal nodded slowly towards Kate. Kate closed her eyes. It was
over. For now.
Slowly, the ropes wrapped around her again, and in some ways it was
comforting. Choice was being taken from her, and whatever was going
to happen would happen. Kate stared at her bare toes, so far away.
The world faded.
<---===***===--->
She stood, the coolness of the tile pressing into her back. The
pillar was as thick as a redwood, presumably holding up the
structure of the mall. Ropes held her securely to it, though she
sensed that they weren't as tight as he might have made them. She
wasn't about to step away from the prison, but neither was she
likely to lose circulation as she had when her arms had been bound
behind her back for hours.
Surprised, she realised that she was hungry. She wondered if he'd
allow them to eat, and when.
Ropes held her wrists together, drawn up above her head, a few
lengths of ropes holding them back and to the pillar. More ropes
held her ankles apart, spread and pulled back around the pillar. To
accommodate the posture, she had risen up on her toes, but other
ropes wrapped around her shoulders and about her waist helped to
ease the tension that would have normally arisen on her wrists from
the awkward pose. She knew she was open and exposed, and it bothered
her, but more because she was helpless and confused than because of
any modesty she still harboured. No, she was getting used to being
naked, and drawn into strange positions where the man could inspect
formerly rather private sections of her anatomy. Her helplessness,
and her confusion were far more pressing at the moment. Worse, her
body reacted in uncomfortable ways. She was sure, if he had deigned
to touch her, to thrust his fingers into her, they would emerge
dripping wet. Perhaps that knowledge, most of all, unnerved her. He
only had touched her as much as had been required to bind her.
She pulled at her bonds, knowing before she did that there would be
no escape from this. Leigh glanced over her shoulder at Kate, and
grimaced, then turned back towards Crystal.
He was behind the pillar at the moment, probably securing the last
of the ropes holding her. She felt a faint tug in her right ankle,
and tried to shift to accommodate the new tightness there. She
raised her eyes as he appeared in front of her.
"What are you going to do to me?" Kate asked. The other girls knew
what their assigned tasks were, she hung here awaiting her unique
fate.
She didn't think he would answer her, instead turning and pacing
back to the wretched backpack of tricks. He returned to Kate,
holding more rope in his hands.
"I'm secure, you know. I'm not going anywhere. You don't need more
rope," she said mildly. Of course, there was precious little that
she could do about it if he wanted to mummify her in the stuff. He
played with the lengths of rope in his hands, pulling them almost
like taffy.
"I have to hurt you, Kate."
Kate shivered. She envisioned him attaching weights to her sensitive
parts, hitting her with crops. Her vagina squeezed, and Kate moaned
for a moment.
"Hurt me?" She wanted to beg him not to -- to let her go, to kiss
her once and turn away.
He nodded slowly, still fingering the ropes. He almost seemed like
he didn't want to do it, that some ingrained conscience had finally
kicked in. He didn't want to hurt her, but he needed to, for some
reason. She idly wondered if Andrea would understand this better
than her, some deep seated psycho-analysis kicking in to understand
why this man would need to whip her, and yet not really enjoy it.
Her mind wandered. He'd wanted to hurt Karen, but stopped short of
disfiguring the girl. He'd wanted to control her, to make her beg,
but he hadn't let the cigarettes burn down to the flesh of her
nipples, had he? Kate had stripped before that, and saved her, or
had she. Would this man have truly hurt Karen, burned her, to get
what he wanted, or was he using fear to control them?
Kate knew the answer to that, and it made her shiver. Knowing the
answer, didn't make it any easier. She watched as he toyed with the
ropes in his hands, almost nervously. No, this time was different.
She was fully under his control. This wasn't an attempt to break
her mind. This had purpose. He was going to hurt her to some end.
It didn't make it any easier knowing this, the pain would still be
bad she was certain, perhaps worse than she'd ever felt yet. Her
vagina clenched again, and she gasped.
"Why?" she whispered.
He shrugged, and she thought that he was simply going to begin. He
didn't. Instead, he raised his eyes to hers. They were steady now,
without the hint of withdrawal that she'd seen earlier. He was in
control. Somehow.
"Because, I must."
"You have to hurt me?"
"She needs to see it."
"Who? Crystal will do whatever the hell you want her to."
"Not Crystal."
"Everyone else is either waiting for oral sex, or waiting to give
that oral sex. All you have to do is say the word. We're all under
your control, dammit. They'll do what you want. You don't have to
hurt me."
He slowly shook his head, as if she could never understand. She
supposed that it was possible that she would never understand.
"Do you want to hurt me?"
He seemed torn, almost like a convicted criminal torn between
confessing and fear for his life.
"If you want to hurt me, you know I can't do anything about it,"
Kate said.
"It has to be you," he said slowly. "Yes, Kate, I want to hurt you,
but not this time."
"Why?"
"Why do I want to hurt you?"
Kate nodded. He hesitated, staring into her eyes. She didn't look
away, but tried to shift a little into a more comfortable position.
There wasn't one.
Almost as if to answer her, he lowered his hand, trailing his
fingers down her belly, bumping over the tightness of the ropes
there, and down through her fine red-tinged pubic hair. Kate gasped,
tried to squirm, but the ropes held her fast. His finger dipped
within her, and Kate felt her clitoris spasm as his fingertip nearly
caressed her. Climax, far too long denied welled up, and Kate closed
her eyes. She couldn't stop it, even if she didn't want to climax
here. The ropes. The nakedness. The exposure. The stress.
She cried out as his finger left her. When she opened her eyes, she
saw him -- there was desire in his eyes, but also compassion, and
grief, and worry. He raised his right hand, the fingers that had
touched her glistening. She could smell her own scent upon them, and
for some reason it drilled into, causing her nipples to ache and her
vagina to clench again. So close. So damn close.
His fingers were close under her nostrils. She breathed deeply,
hoping that the sexual energy trapped in her would be enough to see
her through the trial. His unexpected touch, she knew, wasn't a
reprieve, but an explanation. Without thought, she bowed her head,
and kissed his fingers. Her taste flooded her mouth like candy. She
moaned, and raised her eyes to his.
There was a hint of surprise there, but not the abandoned sexual
grin that she'd expected. He nodded slowly.
"Because you want to be hurt," he said in a whisper.
Kate moaned.
(Because I want the kiss of his whip.)
(I don't.)
(I do. Oh, God. I do.)
Chapter 132
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Kate trembled, but didn't speak, as he almost gently wrapped the
last of the ropes about her bare breasts. While she was young enough
that her breasts didn't need a bra, or the sudden support that the
ropes impacted upon her, the gentle pressure of the ropes
intensified the sensations of his fingers brushing her skin. The
force of the sexuality would have buckled her legs if the ropes
hadn't held her up, the pillar unyielding and uncaring about its
helpless passenger.
(Oh, God, he's going to hurt me. Make me scream.)
He left for a moment, walking back to the other girls, crouching and
speaking to each of the kneeling forms. Monique began to cry, and
Andrea shivered. Nicole and Leigh seemed to expect the commands, and
wearily faced their tasks.
In her peripheral vision, Kate saw another flash of white, and she
glanced over towards the escalator. Something had moved down there.
Hadn't it? She was still searching for the source of the movement
when she became aware that he'd returned. She looked into his eyes,
seeing unemotional hardness there. It might have been easier for her
if she'd seen hate, or even sexual anticipation there. But this was
almost the expression that she'd expect a serial murderer to adopt
before he strangled his victim.
She shivered, letting her eyes drop. He was holding a whip in his
right hand, the tendrils of black leather creeping down his jean
clad thigh like a vine. The strips of leather, perhaps five, seemed
to almost caress his leg, trembling almost in anticipation.
(He's going to hit me with that???)
She raised her eyes again, fear tinging their surface. His eyes
didn't mirror the anticipation of the whip; if anything, his eyes
reflected a sorrow, or regret.
"Are you ready, little one?"
"Why?" she whispered, unable to raise her voice beyond that. Her
body trembled in the restraints. She wanted to beg him to leave her
alone, that she was only a seventeen-year-old sophomore. But the
humiliation of that seemed worse somehow than simply accepting what
would happen despite her pleas.
"Because she needs to see it. Without this, she won't end it.
Without this, she can resist. And then even I don't know what
happens."
Confused, Kate stared at him. She didn't see the madness shining
there that she half-expected. Her vagina clenched as she stared at
the weapon in his hand. She forced her eyes from it, back to his
face.
"Who?" she whispered. It was obvious that he wasn't speaking of the
bound girls under his control. No, Crystal, Wade, Danielle, Pamela,
Leigh, Andrea, Monique, Nicole and most of all Kate, were all very
much under his control, bound and naked and helpless. "There is
nobody else here."
The flashes of movement in her peripheral vision rose up in her
memory.
"Please, who's benefit is this for? Why are you going to whip me?"
He hesitated so long that she thought that he might have entered a
trance. A saving trance. A trance that might make him reconsider
this lunacy. It was her soft skin he was going to strike. Wasn't it?
At last, he looked up, and worry crossed his brow.
"Dawn," he whispered.
<---===***===--->
At first she had thought that he had meant the sunrise, which in
this world was impossible. Confused, she glanced up towards the
skylights high above her. The sun hadn't moved.
Then she realised that his whispered word was a name, and that name
didn't match any of the girls that surrounded him. She felt the
name echo on her lips, and then he was no longer facing her, but
facing up the corridor, back the way they had come.
His voice wasn't loud; he didn't shout. Rather his voice was steady,
like a common conversation at a cocktail party. Kate couldn't
remember a cocktail party where she'd been bound naked to a pillar,
but suddenly it seemed unimportant. Whoever Dawn was, he needed
her. Kate didn't understand, but what did impress upon her mind was
the fact that he needed to hurt her so that Dawn would appear.
Didn't that mean that Dawn wasn't under his direct control? Was that
possible?
"Dawn, it's over," he called softly. "I sense you."
Kate swivelled her head as far as her restraints would allow. No
flashes of movement greeted her.
"I don't want to hurt her, or them, but I will. She'll scream. And
then she'll beg. Can you live with yourself?"
His words were nearly hypnotic, and if Kate hadn't been bound to the
pillar, and hadn't been the one about whom he was speaking, she
might have followed that voice anywhere.
She thought a faint moan reached her ears, an unfamiliar voice,
unmuffled. She strained to located the sound, but she wasn't even
fully sure that she'd heard it.
"I'm going to whip her, Dawn. On the breasts, maybe even between her
legs. I have to, Dawn. I don't want to."
Still, no mysterious girl named Dawn appeared, though another echo
of a moan reached her ears. The moan sounded low, and almost sexual.
Her own sex clenched as she realised that he wasn't joking. He would
whip her helpless skin, on her sex organs, on her most sensitive
spots. She'd try not to scream, but eventually she would. That much
she understood. He'd whip her until she screamed. He needed the
screams, more than he needed to put her into pain. She'd resist, oh,
yes, but for how long? Suddenly she was glad that she was bound to
the pillar -- none of the other girls could take what he had to do.
Only her. Pain an aphrodisiac for her body, if not her mind. But he
would take her well beyond that, wouldn't he?
Kate moaned in sympathy with the unseen girl out there. Silently,
she prayed that even through it all, she wouldn't show herself.
Whoever she was. When the pain started, the thoughts would abandon
her, but for now, her skin still soft and unmarked, she could hope.
The Timeman sighed and turned towards Kate. Kate paled, and if she'd
been able, she would have shrunk from the emotionless gesture. The
whip moved back and forth in the man's hands. The whip, she was
sure, could kill her, if he wielded it long enough. She didn't want
to die, not here, not at home, but suddenly, the fear left her.
There was nothing that she could do. She pressed her lips together
and nodded.
He raised his face to the ceiling, and spoke.
"Dawn? I know you can hear me. I know what you feel. You'll feel
every stroke as it kisses her, won't you? Can you take it?" He
sighed and lowered his chin, staring at Kate.
But he didn't speak to her. "Can you take it?"
<---===***===--->
Dimly, she was aware of the other girls, leaning forward on their
knees, and beginning to use their mouths on the females strung up to
the railing. Dimly, she was aware of Crystal twisting, and rocking
her hips, trying to escape Leigh's tongue and lips, the other girls
only half-heartedly attempting to escape, moaning not in sexual
ecstasy, but nevertheless moaning through the panties secured in
their mouths.
Dimly, she was aware of the whip rising, pausing, seemingly forever
above his shoulder, muscles rippling. Kate closed her eyes, waiting.
When the leather touched her, she pressed her lips together.
(I won't scream. I won't scream. I won't scream.)
And she didn't. The sound reached her well before the pain did. She
was suddenly aware of her bound breasts dancing on her chest as the
leather crashed into her exposed skin. The bindings around the base
of each breast seemed to intensify the sensations that began as a
deep warmth. Her nipples and her vagina reacted, and for a moment,
she was sure that she would suffer the indignity of climaxing from a
single blow to her breasts. But it didn't develop beyond a distance
yearning, and the warmth spiralled up to heat, and then to molten
fire.
She let her breath out from lungs in a whoosh.
"Oh, God," she whispered. "Please, no more."
When she finally opened her eyes, she moaned. He had raised the
thing again in an easy arc above his shoulder. She glanced at her
bound breasts, sure that the flesh had been split and her innards
leaking from deep cuts there. Almost detached, she noted that the
five tails of the whip were wide leather, to maximise impact sting,
but minimise the possibility of breaking her skin. In some ways she
was thankful, and in others she wished that he would actually damage
her -- for to damage her would make him stop. Of that, she was
certain.
Almost unconsciously, her body pressed against the ropes, thrusting
her breasts out to meet the next blow.
"Please, no more," she whispered. While his face held a deep
compassion for the pain he was causing, a regret, his hand began its
inevitable sweep towards her vulnerable skin.
Stars swam in front of her eyes as her breasts exploded again in
agony.
<---===***===--->
She couldn't think anymore. Dawn was only a distant memory, her
entire existence characterised by molten hot pain, centred upon her
chest. Tears ran freely down her face, and her body had given up its
insistence of sexuality. Somewhere, she was aware, that if he'd
touched her with his fingers, gently, between her spread legs, she
would have exploded in orgasm, but for now, only pain surrounded
her.
A wailing, that wasn't her voice, but rather was Leigh's, settled
into her ears.
"Stop it. Stop it. You're going to kill her."
The pain lessened as the blows ceased for a moment. Kate opened her
eyes, red tinging her vision. It wasn't blood, no, he hadn't damaged
her skin, though she knew if she looked, her breasts would probably
resemble tomatoes. No, it wouldn't be that easy, would it?
She tried to find her voice, force out a protest. The pain kept her
voice at bay. A scream might emerge, if she let it, but nothing
more.
Instead of answering Leigh, he almost nonchalantly swung the whip at
the kneeling girl. Leigh shied way at the last moment, her face a
mask of surprise, and then of agony. The whip curled around her
upper arm, striking into her bound arms and back simultaneously.
"Fuck you," she spat.
He pulled back his hand again, but Kate found her tongue.
"No, Leigh. No. He's not killing me."
The whip wavered. Kate wasn't sure if he was killing her or not, but
Leigh needed to hear it. Otherwise, she wouldn't turn back to
licking Crystal, would allow the Timeman to whip her unconscious, or
into a babbling madwoman.
"Please," Kate called again, addressing her tormentor. "She doesn't
understand. Come back."
Some distance part of her mind rebelled. Her breasts screamed at her
-- inviting more, unthinkable. But she had. And the Timeman was
turning towards her.
"Continue," he growled at Leigh.
Leigh hesitated, flashing a glance at Kate. Kate wearily nodded,
hoping that the nod would be interpreted as she'd intended it. It
hadn't been easy to dip her head.
He brought up the whip again, but instead of sending it crashing
into Leigh's body, his voice emerged calm, and steady.
"The next one finds Crystal. Then Wade."
Leigh swallowed, and threw him a look of pure hate, then turned
slowly. She set her mouth against Crystal's pubis. Crystal had
paled at his words, and she pushed her hips towards Leigh, blood
burning in her face as she did.
Apparently satisfied, he paced back towards Kate.
"Shall we continue?" he whispered.
Kate closed her eyes, and nodded. She wouldn't scream, even though
she knew that her cries would end it. She felt it in her heart,
could almost feel the renegade free girl. When she started to
scream, it would be over.
She pressed her lips together and managed merely a moan as the wide
strips of leather again found her breasts. She was too weak even to
pull on the ropes that held her up.
<---===***===--->
The rhythm changed -- and though her world was merely a haze of
pain, she knew somehow that her skin wasn't being damaged in any
permanent way. She would be sore, without a doubt, her breasts
aching for a week, if she were here that long, but they ached
anyway, only in a different way. At this point, Kate didn't know
the difference anymore.
Tears fell in rivers from her eyes, but she managed to open them. He
had stopped hitting her for a moment, and the relief felt like
freedom. Of course, she wasn't free, still stood naked and bound to
the pillar, but she had no control over the course of events. The
only control that she truly had was over her voice, and that would
be torn from her soon enough. Four times, she had struggled to
contain a scream as the leather bit relentlessly into the taut skin
of her breasts. It was when one of the bands caught an edge against
her nipples that she barely contained the cries, but so far, she
had.
He called out again.
"Dawn? How much more can you take?"
The only answer was a quiet moan. This time, Kate could almost
pinpoint it, coming from the direction of the escalator. She
wondered why the Timeman hadn't heard it, and if he had, why he
didn't simply pace down the corridor and drag the girl from her
hideaway. If there was a girl, and Kate wasn't merely hallucinating
or hearing her own voice.
Somehow, she knew that there was a girl, and that she was free of
control. How, and why, Kate didn't understand, but somehow her
presence was a threat both to the Timeman, and somehow to the
universe surrounding her. Worse, the girl was feeling Kate's pain,
feeling an attenuated thrust with each strike of the whip upon her
skin, each tendril of hot pain entering her body from her nipples,
her breasts, and her mind.
She would scream. It hurt too much. Somehow, Kate was going to be
the one to draw Dawn out. Her pain, her agony, her cries, would
break down Dawn, and she would step out and give up.
(No, Dawn. Hold out. Wherever you are. I won't die.)
In her heart, she knew that her thoughts wouldn't change anything,
and she had no ultimate choice here. After all, she was only a
seventeen-year-old high school girl, strapped naked to a pillar,
struggling for a semblance of control -- over herself, over
everyone. It wasn't going to be the sight of Leigh licking Crystal,
no matter how much it resembled rape. It wasn't enough. It was her
pain, and her screams that would turn the tide.
She closed her eyes, and pressed her lips together again. He'd
turned back towards her, and he was smiling. Oh, God, he was
smiling.
<---===***===--->
It was not her breasts that betrayed her. After his final appeal to
the hidden, or fictional girl, he swung the whip not down towards
her aching breasts, but rather on an upward arc, with an easy flick
of his wrists.
The centre of her being exploded in agony, her rocking hips almost
thrusting towards the blow like a lover reaching for her lover's
touch. The pain was easily double or triple that which she had felt
at the height of the breast whipping, the edge of one of the bands
of leather, perhaps by luck, striking between her exposed lips and
kissing her swollen clitoris.
She struggled to maintain consciousness, and the blackness receded,
replaced by burning hot molten fire between her legs. It felt like a
red hot poker had been shoved rudely up and inside of her, her
clitoris, and her vaginal walls clenching uncontrollably as they
absorbed the energy of the leather.
She couldn't stop it. She had no hope of stopping it.
Like a mindless animal, caught in a trap, she screamed. There were
no words, no coherency. She was well beyond any intelligent thought
-- only rippling pain made up her small bubble of the universe. Her
throat ached as she finally let the pent up pain out, filling the
air.
He didn't strike her again, though he stood before her, the whip
dangling from his fingers.
She couldn't stop herself.
"Please, no more. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts," she screamed.
Then a glimmering of humanity seeped back into her agony, and she
opened her eyes. Tears blurred her vision, but she could see clearly
past him. His attention was upon her, almost an expression of
sympathy finally entering his visage. For no rational reason, she
wanted to hug him, and tell him that she was all right. But, of
course, she couldn't, and she wouldn't.
His face didn't capture her attention. No. Over his shoulder, a
figure stepped out from behind the escalator. The figure was a
woman with dusty blonde hair, wearing Levis and a university
sweatshirt. In her state, Kate couldn't tell from which university
it had originated. The girl was wearing Nikes and seemed ordinary
in all regards. Tears streamed down her face, and her hands rose in
a protective gesture over where her breasts would be underneath the
sweatshirt.
"Dawn, no. I'm sorry," Kate whispered.
The Timeman began to turn.
Dawn's voice was musically soft, floating across the mall's corridor
like a voice from heaven.
"You can stop hitting her," she said evenly. "I'm here."
It was over.
The blackness rose up again, and Kate tried to find her voice to
call out, to protest. It had been her pain that had drawn Dawn into
this. Her.
The blackness wouldn't be denied. Kate had no more strength. Her
breasts screamed and her vagina drove one last tendril of white hot
pain into her mind.
And then blessed blackness, where there was no pain, embraced her.
Chapter 133
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
She had felt him casting though the time haze, like a blind beggar
with a cane, searching, searching. Searching for her.
Yet, she had been unable to stop. So many questions, and he could
answer them for her. Even if he was dangerous, she could no more
turn from the naked girls, and his imposing presence, than she could
stop breathing on her own. It was almost as if Fate or Destiny were
forcing her feet to silently follow the small caravan to this
unnamed mall where nude and helpless girls did his bidding.
She had watched, similarly helpless, as he guided his girls into
sexual abandonment, all naked, and all lacking any control over her
situation. Whether Leigh wanted to use her mouth on Crystal was
irrelevant. Whether Kate wanted to be whipped until she begged, was
irrelevant.
She'd watched as he bound Kate to the pillar, somehow knowing that
the red haired girl represented her destiny, her fate.
She had recognised the girl as Kate; she'd been within her head far
too often to not recognise her. Leigh, the one kneeling before the
blonde, echoed into her memory as well.
The visions had come without warning, and it was only with the
utmost care that she'd managed to keep her voice out of audible
range. She hadn't needed to see the girls; She was the girls, the
visions threatening to overwhelm and destroy her. Perhaps it was the
proximity, perhaps her empathy with them.
For a moment, she was Leigh, tasting the blonde, her arms screaming
in agony behind her. Then she was the blonde, rocking her hips,
almost involuntarily, eyes closed, feeling her own lips upon her
vaginal lips, soft and silky. Then Andrea, half-wondering about the
applications to psyche, and Wade wondering where her mother was.
Then Monique, cleared mind, simply licking and trying to ignore
where her tongue was. Then Pamela, her nipples aching where the bad
man had twisted them. Danielle, her wrists falling numb, the taste
of herself deep into her throat. And Nicole. Nicole had hurt, her
ribs and her mind filled with pain as she forced herself to lick at
the unnamed woman above her. Nicole didn't mind the taste, not at
all, but it reminded her, and Dawn, of something else, and Dawn
didn't want to see that. She pushed herself, and fell into Kate.
That was when the searing pain had hit her, somehow knowing that the
blows were harder and more intense for the girl actually
experiencing them. Dawn's vagina clenched hard, and her hands rose
to protect her breasts. Rope encircled each of her breasts, the taut
skin transmitting the smallest touch into a searing sensations, far
worse than simple whipping might accomplish. Dawn closed her eyes
and moaned as each blow crashed into Kate's bare breasts,
boomeranged, and mirrored in Dawn's own. Dawn's nipples throbbed,
and her clitoris sang.
(God, no. Please.)
Kate hadn't wanted to scream, and that, perhaps, hurt Dawn the most.
Kate suffered, knowing that Dawn couldn't take the begging and the
crying. And the whip fell into her breasts again and again and
again, the pain like a red haze across Kate's nearly incoherent
mind. There was pain, and then more pain. All was pain.
Dawn's mind flashed red as the final blow wrapped around her thighs,
kissing her vaginal area like a harsh lover. She had screamed, only
a moment before Kate's scream washed over her like a wave on the
ocean, their voices merging and rising, helpless and free.
Finally, the vision had released her, and she had returned to the
dim cove where she lay against cool marble, the expanse of the
escalator rising above her.
<---===***===--->
Tears fell down her cheeks, and she snatched her right hand from
between her legs, where it was rubbing against the fabric of her
Levis. She moaned, understanding in some corner of her mind that she
wasn't shielding herself as much as pleasuring herself. Tingles
raced through her nerves. Kate didn't have those options, her hands
wrapped in secure cords, preventing her from easing the pain through
sexual stimulation.
Kate's voice reached around the escalator:
"Please, no more. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts."
Dawn closed her eyes for a moment, then pushed herself wearily to
her feet. It was the ending, here and now. She couldn't leave, and
couldn't let him hit her again. Dawn's breasts ached, and she
absently moved her hands up, as though shielding them from harsh
leather.
She stepped out. Kate hung in the body that she'd been intimately
aware of only a moment before. Dawn's vagina still drove tendrils of
pain upwards and into her mind, but she tried to ignore it, more so
the sexual energy that surrounded it. She had to stop the images, or
she would go crazy. Of that she was sure. And there was only one
way to stop them. So, she stepped out, as she had known that she
would from the moment that she'd left Linda and the Westin behind.
<---===***===--->
Dawn held her hands away from her body, palms facing the Timeman. He
had a gun; she'd seen it a number of times. While she hadn't seen
the capture of the new girls, she imagined that he'd used it to
intimidate them. She held her hands out in a gesture of honesty. She
couldn't attack him, but he was wary of her. She didn't understand
why, only that he was. His posture screamed it, even while he stood
there with the whip, and she stood defenceless and far smaller than
he. She nearly laughed as an image of herself as David, facing the
Goliath flashed through her mind. Dimly, she was aware that Kate had
slumped in her bonds. She could still sense her -- the man hadn't
killed her -- she'd merely retreated into the blackness of
unconsciousness for a while. Dawn envied her. Her own breasts and
vagina felt like they were on fire, and she hadn't even experienced
a third of what Kate had.
"You can stop now. It's over," Dawn said slowly. She didn't step
towards him.
He hesitated a moment, then dropped the whip. It clattered against
the marble as the leather coiled itself into an untidy heap at his
feet. She continued, trying to keep her voice even, her eyes
avoiding the cruel weapon.
"You can let them all go, now. I'm not a threat."
Her hands trembled beside her. He watched her, like a hunter would
regard the lion. She wasn't a lion, but she supposed that he had no
way of knowing that.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"You know who I am."
"Dawn," he said, more a statement than a question.
She nodded, not moving. Any sudden movement would cause him to reach
for the gun. It was difficult enough being here without facing into
the barrel of a gun.
She became aware that Leigh, and Monique a few girls down, had
stopped licking the girls above them. Without even turning, he
growled at the kneeling girls.
"I didn't tell you to stop."
A look of fright passed over the kneeling girls' features, and they
turned quickly to continue using their mouths on Crystal and Wade.
Crystal's moan floated across the corridor, and the Timeman grinning
wildly for a moment.
She sensed him almost like a tickle into the bubble she thought of
around him. It felt like a ripple, a poke, into the membrane of
normalcy that her mind projected about her body. She tilted her
head, but didn't draw her hands in. She pushed back, reforming the
bubble about her, almost unconsciously. A tingle passed through her
nerves.
Another push, from a different direction felt like she'd been struck
with a soft bat.
"Oooof," she said. She cringed from the direction in which the
attack had come, momentarily confused. Then she sensed what was
happening, could see into the time haze, almost on a different
level. He was attacking her, but in the time domain, trying to
envelop, and thrust himself into her space. He was trying to control
her environment, her time.
She relaxed, and attempted to allow the intrusion. Inside, she knew
that even if he succeeding in holding her time band, she could
always reassert. Without her conscious control, her mind pushed
back, and her bubble repelled his push. In a way, his intrusion
reminded her of the unconscious fear that John had instilled into
her, the night he'd almost raped her. The intrusion here was close
and personal, an attack on her akin to that of a penis thrusting
past her vaginal opening without her consent. Even if she'd allowed
it consciously, her mind refused to simply allow him to control her
that easily.
"I didn't fight that," she said quietly. He looked up, and his
expression changed to curiosity. "I don't have control over it, my
mind won't allow you to control it that easily." She felt him
withdraw. It remained difficult to press her own bubble outward, but
it appeared that he couldn't simply envelop her any more than he
apparently could see her in the mists of time. Else, why would he
have tortured Kate to get her to reveal herself. Why not simply walk
up to her and take her physically?
(Because he didn't know you weren't armed?)
Somehow, she simply knew that he couldn't see her; she was like a
ghost, as dim as he was bright in the time haze above her vision.
"I'm not a threat to you. I don't have any weapons."
He regarded her, again like the hunter regards dangerous prey.
"You are the weapon," he said quietly.
That didn't make much sense to her. She had never studied martial
arts, or considered herself dangerous. She was merely Dawn -- a
normal, well-adjusted college girl. As if reading her thoughts, he
smiled.
"Your presence here is the danger."
She nodded, lowering her hands. There didn't seem to be any reason
to keep them visible. It was obvious that she was not a physical
threat. He seemed to relax a little, rather than tense as she'd
expected.
"Then, I'll leave."
"It isn't that simple, and I think you know that."
She shrugged, somehow knowing that this would be the answer before
it passed his lips.
"Let the girls go. I'll leave, everyone will be happy," she said. He
still made no move to approach her.
He shook his head.
"Why did you come here?"
He was asking her two questions. She only had the answer to one, so
she supplied it.
"I wanted answers. I need to understand."
"Do you understand?"
She shook her head.
"I want it to stop. I need it to stop."
He smiled, understanding flowing across his face like a cloud
revealing the sun. For her, however, it was only part of the reason
for her coming here. She had been drawn to him, somehow knowing that
she was responsible, that she had caused this strange place as much
as he. And she couldn't leave until they fused.
"I don't have the answers," he said slowly.
"Then, I'll leave, as soon as you release the girls."
He shook his head. "I can't do that."
"You reach down and untie them. If you can't return them to their
time, I'll take them with me. You can't keep doing this to them. It
will consume you. It will consume me."
He seemed to consider for a moment, but Dawn understood that nothing
here was that simple.
"I can't have you loose. It's dangerous."
"Dangerous to you?"
"And to yourself."
She bristled.
"And you care about me, any more than you care about them?"
He smiled, though her comment had stung him. She could see it in the
set of his body.
"I care about them more than you know."
"That's why you whipped Kate unconscious."
If he was surprised that she knew Kate's name, he didn't show it.
"I needed to see you," he said.
"You could have asked."
"And you would have come?"
She was honest, and shook her head. "No."
"You don't understand, Dawn. You can't. But your presence here is
dangerous. If I'd known that this was even a remote possibility, I
wouldn't have created this place."
Dawn started. Realisation slammed into her. He had created this
place -- not her. Inwardly, she sighed.
"You are far more dangerous to Kate than sore breasts or a few whip
marks on her skin."
"Answer my questions, then?"
Instead of answering her, he reached behind himself and pointed the
gun at her. It was the first time she'd ever faced the business end
of a firearm, and she paled.
"You can't shoot me."
"Are you fast enough?"
She trembled. Her body wanted to run, to duck back behind the
escalator, draw into a fetal position and pretend that she wasn't
here.
Theoretically, she understood that she could erect a wall of air,
frozen in time, impervious to the steel of projectiles. He didn't
seem to understand that in her current state she might not even be
able to open a door without finding a modicum of sexual balance. But
she wasn't about to help him understand that she needed to climax
first. No, that wouldn't be in her best interests. She shook her
head slowly.
"I don't want to fight," she murmured.
He waved the gun at her, and she automatically took two steps
towards him. Something occurred to her, and she halted, peering at
him. The soft sounds of oral sex surrounded her, and stimulated her
into another level of arousal.
(No. No. No. They're being forced to do that.)
(And if you keep walking, you'll be next.)
(Receiving, or giving?)
(Does it matter?)
Dawn shivered.
"What happens if you kill me with that thing?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Kate stirring
against the pillar. A soft moan issued from the bound and naked
girl. The Timeman ignored Kate, keeping his eyes planted on Dawn's
face.
He shrugged. "Dawn, I really, really don't know."
She sighed. It was unclear what happened when a life was snuffed
out. Would she die on the main timeline? Would she survive when and
if he ever returned this alternate reality back to normalcy?
"Dawn?"
She raised her eyes from the floor. Her fingers wanted to touch
herself, her nipples, between her legs. She lightly grasped her
thighs, the solidity of them grounding her.
"I don't want to find out," he said slowly.
She didn't either. Not in the least.
Chapter 134
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"What do you want?"
Even as she asked, she knew the answer; it was simple, and obvious.
She trembled.
He answered her with a single word.
"You."
She closed her eyes, could sense him probing her bubble again,
touching her as intimately as any lover, and the reaction to it
manifested sexually even though it wasn't his fingers caressing her
nipple. She shivered.
The visions had fled, but she could still sense them, close and
near. She was Leigh. She was Crystal. Her own tongue buried within
herself, thrusting and caressing. It was a pleasant dichotomy, but
distracting.
"You won't let them go?"
He shook his head slowly.
"At least let them stop. Even you must sense that this isn't
arousing them. The new girls won't climax for you, no matter how
much you threaten them."
"Humans are capable of more than you might think," he said. But he
turned to the bound girls, and simply called, "Leigh? You can stop,
now."
With multiple sighs, the bound kneeling girls rocked back, almost in
synchronicity, and worked the muscles of their jaws, shifting
uncomfortably on their bare knees. Leigh flashed a look of relief
towards Dawn, and it made Dawn feel a little better about her own
situation.
"Will you answer my questions?"
He nodded slowly.
She slipped into Crystal for a brief second, involuntarily, and
moaned. The girl was aroused, more so that she thought was possible
given her discomfort. Her panties felt dry and hot in her mouth, her
own scent filling her nose. Below, where Leigh's mouth had been,
felt empty. Her hips rocked, even as Dawn witnessed it from two
vantage points. Dawn tore herself from the girl, and returned her
gaze to the gun and the Timeman. He waited patiently, watching her
intently, as if he were aware of her travels.
"Will you hurt me?"
He answered her honestly. "I don't know, Dawn."
(He's going to whip me. Like Kate. To break me.)
Dawn shivered, and her sex pulsed at the thought. She glanced over
at Kate, whose eyes had lifted, slightly dazed, but not dull and
lifeless. The girl hurt, without a doubt, but she'd survived.
She glanced again at the gun, then at his face. The Timeman seemed
content to wait for her answer. A precognition slipped past her. The
Timeman couldn't control her -- not through time. He might continue
to whip Kate, and eventually that might work, controlling her
through indirect means, but not if she disappeared into the silent
world, somewhere where she couldn't hear Kate's cries. He was unable
to track her, and unable to find her, not in this silent world. Of
that, she was certain; she could disappear, be safe, away from all
of this. But, he couldn't let her leave. It wasn't that simple. If
she turned away, or even took a step backwards, he would shoot her.
He couldn't afford to do anything else. She didn't understand why,
yet, but her presence here was a danger -- both to him and to all
the girls here. He couldn't let her disappear, again.
"I'll give you anything that you want. Money? My firstborn?"
She was joking about the last, but she needed time to think.
Incredibly, he did laugh.
"You aren't actually a mother, are you?"
The question revealed the depth of his ignorance about her. He
couldn't read her mind. He didn't have any idea of who she really
was. The knowledge warmed her. It didn't help her, but it was
something.
She shook her head slowly. She felt most of the girls' eyes upon
her, envious of her freedom, envious of her clothing, perhaps even a
little awed of her seemingly unique ability to resist, and yes,
frighten, this man in front of her.
She could only resist so much.
"You'll answer my questions?"
He nodded. "Whatever I can." And she believed him.
What she was about to do seemed wrong, even to her. She could see it
in Kate's eyes. She could see it in Leigh's eyes. Her entire being
warned her.
It was as if some higher order was orchestrating this, and she was
merely a pawn. But, pawns could take down kings, couldn't they?
Slowly, she nodded. Her breasts tingled, and her nerves jangled. She
understood what her words meant, what his agreement meant.
Kate began to protest weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Dawn, please, no."
"He'll keep hurting you, and hurting me, until I do what he wants. I
can't bear to watch it again," Dawn said. It was the naked truth,
and giving voice to it surprised her.
"I'll do whatever you want," she said, turning back to the Timeman.
"Just stop hurting them."
(And me.)
<---===***===--->
When he rose again from the backpack, he held shiny metal easily
over his left hand. With a practised ease, he tossed the chrome
towards Dawn, and without thought, almost sensing their arc through
the time haze, she lifted her hand and easily caught the handcuffs.
She stared at them for a moment, and then looked up at him.
(I'll be wearing these soon. Unable to get them off until he
takes them off me.)
"Do you want me to strip, first?" she asked.
He shook his head, surprising her. She didn't want to take off her
clothes, it would only serve to inflate her already blossoming sex
drive, and leave her even more vulnerable than she felt now, but
ultimately she harboured no illusions. Eventually, she would lose
her clothing as surely as the other nine women surrounding her were
as bare as the day they were born.
She sighed, and began to wrap her left wrist within the cuffs. The
singing of the ratchet drove her helplessness into her mind, almost
like the door of a jail cell slamming shut.
"Behind your back, Dawn."
Dawn hesitated. With her hands secured behind her back, she was far
more vulnerable. His request didn't surprise her. She sighed. At
least, she wasn't naked, yet.
She reached behind her back, her palms brushing across the denim of
her bottom. With a touch of difficulty, she managed to close the
right cuff around her wrist, and the final click of the metal
slammed into her -- complete vulnerability.
A sense of futility and destiny flowed through her. Ever since she'd
finally freed herself from the school's exam room, it had been one
prison after the other -- if it wasn't a frozen door, it was a
frozen person that she couldn't quite make twitch in the guise of
normalcy. This was merely another prison from which she must escape.
Except, she sensed this time that she was meant to be here for a
while.
She pulled against the restraints, and then turned towards the
Timeman.
"I can't get out," she said simply. He smiled, and began to walk
towards her. "What about them?" she asked. "I'm here, I'm helpless,
surely you don't need to keep them like that. It hurts. Trust me."
She could vividly remember being in Leigh's mind, the discomfort of
her arms nearly overwhelming her experience of tonguing another
girl.
The memory of that vision drove needles of sexuality through Dawn.
Eating a girl out, and being eaten out. Both at the same time. She
shivered, and vexed, realised that with her hands bound like this,
she probably couldn't even climax herself. The thought rose from
between her thighs in a dull ache. Her helplessness again whispered
through her limbs.
"I stopped whipping Kate, didn't I? I let them stop having sex over
there?"
Dawn nodded, feeling tears rising to her eyes.
(But the ropes. The bonds. The symbols of your control over them.)
She nodded, realising that he wasn't going to release the girls. Not
yet. And she couldn't do a damn thing about it. Yes, she could
control her own time bubble, but that was about the extent of her
power. Suddenly, it seemed woefully inadequate.
He touched her arm at the elbow, and with a small cry, she twisted
from him. He flashed her a look, perhaps he was used to touching the
girls any time he chose, anywhere he chose. Even this innocuous
touch to guide her seemed far too intimate, especially given that
her hands were pinned behind her, perhaps permanently.
Instead, he smiled and swept his arm, like an announcer introducing
a queen. He began to walk towards the escalator.
She considered refusing to follow, but as he touched the first stair
of the now motionless staircase, and glanced back towards her, she
sighed, and began to move her feet.
<---===***===--->
He stood against the upper deck railing. The railing, for safety,
she supposed, was composed of a top rail of wood, descending to the
floor with unbreakable glass, or clear plastic. He leaned on folded
arms, his toe lightly kicking at the safety plastic beneath the
rail, gazing down to the lower concourse where Kate moaned quietly
still bound to the pillar. The other girls remained on their knees
in front of their naked, spread, and gagged counterparts.
Dawn settled herself on the top step of the escalator, her legs
uncoiled and resting against the harsh metal of the motionless
stairs. It wouldn't have been her chosen position, but he'd told her
to sit, and it hardly seemed the time or place to argue. Her
position against the harsh ribbing of the metal stairs would have
been more uncomfortable had she been naked; her jeans protected her
skin, somewhat.
Her hands fidgeted behind her back, the chain between her wrists
jingling softly. The girls below, except for Kate and the gagged
girls, talked quietly, their feminine tones only tickling Dawn's
ears, their words incomprehensible at this distance. Conversely, she
supposed, the girls wouldn't be able to understand anything said
between her and the Timeman.
She looked up. He seemed moody, but the mindless anger and brutality
he'd displayed while whipping Kate seemed to have been thrust to the
back burners of his mind.
"Why are you doing this to them? To me?"
He turned to look down at her, an amused expression upon his lips.
"Control," he said simply. "I can, and so I do."
She pondered that for a moment. "Hitler did the same thing."
The Timeman nodded, not seeming to be offended by the comment.
"But Hitler didn't control time. There is a fine line here. What I
do to the girls down there is real -- they feel the stroke of the
whip, their arms are aching so badly that they cry. I understand
that."
"Does it arouse you?"
He nodded, but it seemed like his mind was still on the original
question. He almost seemed to want to talk to her about it.
Suddenly, she sensed his mind, could see inside, if only for a
moment. He seemed unaware of this intrusion. She sensed that he was
alone, as much as she, and it surprised her. He surrounded himself
with sex objects, and played, he understood more about this strange
world than she did, but he was alone here -- unable or unwilling to
form attachments that would be doomed to failure and regrets. And he
was beginning to care about them -- all of them, even the girl that
he whipped until she lost consciousness, or perhaps especially Kate.
"When I release them from this time, it will be as though it never
existed. According to all the simulations, it will never have
happened for them. Kate will not even bear the memory of the pain I
delivered into her body, even if she desires it."
Dawn started in surprise. How did he know that the pain had driven
Kate close to climax? That sexually, she reacted to it? Perhaps,
she'd told him? Or did he simply know? Or had he visited her mind,
as Dawn had? Somehow, she knew the latter hadn't happened. For some
reason, perhaps because she was female, only she was drawn into the
others, whether she wanted to, or not. He could sense where his own
bubbles of time lay, but that was the extent to which he saw into
the haze of time.
"It's still wrong," Dawn said quietly. "Absolute power ..."
"... corrupts absolutely. Yes." He stared off and away from Dawn,
his eyes sweeping over the girls again below.
After a while, he spoke again, his voice soft, as though remembering
a time long gone.
"It is simply a very realistic fantasy for them, something that
shouldn't have consequences. They feel what happens here, but their
real lives, to which I will return them, will not be affected."
"Are you sure?"
"Until you showed up, I was sure," he said slowly.
Dawn shivered.
"When are you going to end this? When you kill someone? Whip some
girl so badly that she can't recover? When you have to shoot someone
that feels like she doesn't have anything left to lose? When are you
going to end this?"
He was silent for a long time, and she thought that he wasn't going
to answer her. When he finally spoke, she had to strain to hear his
words.
"I'm not sure I can stop it any longer ..." Then after a moment, so
low that she was really not sure that she'd heard it at all, he
said, "Not alone, anyway."
<---===***===--->
"It arouses you, doesn't it?" Dawn asked, tilting her head upwards.
He remained staring out across the emptiness of the concourse
opening. Below, she could still hear the quiet murmur of the other
girls.
"Of course, it does."
He turned to look at her, and his eyes seemed to pierce through hers
and peel back the protection of her skull, peering into her mind.
Suddenly, she understood, could figuratively see through his eyes,
saw herself sitting on the top stair of a lifeless escalator in her
jeans, running shoes and university sweatshirt, her hands secured
behind her back. Simply a frightened girl. It shouldn't have been
arousing to him, but it was.
"It arouses you even to have me here, doesn't it?"
To her ears it sounded self-indulgent, conceited, but she hadn't
meant it that way. He raised his eyebrows, but nodded.
"Yes, the image of you sitting there is arousing to me."
"Even though I'm not naked?"
"You're in my control," he said. She didn't fully understand, but
she would be willing to admit that his words were true enough. She
was under his control. Mostly. He was quiet for a while, then he
turned back towards her, his eyes intense.
"That's why you're here, isn't it? You don't understand your own
arousal," he said.
She could feel tears welling, her breasts crying out, her clitoris
pulsing. Sex, and what she'd felt through his actions on the other
girls. She didn't even want to admit to her own preoccupation with
sex -- it was dirty somehow. Good girls didn't feel like this. She
had no control over the visions, seemed to be joined to him through
them, no longer a separate being.
He continued. "The simulations warned me, and I ignored it. Sexual
energy -- Christ, that sounds like a bad porn script, doesn't it --
let's try again. I think our hormones are manipulated by time
control, it feeds on our energy, and it manifests through more
sexual arousal, interest, experience. Christ, it still sounds like
some adolescent, juvenile fantasy, doesn't it?"
"Is that why you do this to them?" She meant the girls below, bound
and naked. It explained their frustration beyond what she might have
expected from their treatment. The effects weren't limited to the
manipulators, but also to the manipulated. The girls below felt the
consequences upon their own sex drives as much, or more, than the
Timeman or herself. Suddenly, it hit her like a ton of bricks. The
girls were aware of the effect, in the very least, subconsciously.
He shook his head.
If what he said was true, and she had no reason to doubt him, then
the girls down there were probably as aroused as she was -- perhaps
more so. She conjectured that he hadn't indulged with his captives,
despite every opportunity to do so. She touched his mind, and the
word 'rape' catapulted out in a flurry of denied pleasure. It wasn't
as if the girls would even have objected at this point, but
nevertheless, he hadn't touched them -- and it was killing him. By
extension, it was killing her. She didn't understand the connection,
but if her arousal, even here and now, was any indication, she could
almost understand his treatment of the girls. Worse, if he was
turned on by such treatment, and control, it would have intensified
the time constraints. Despite his denial, she thought that the very
exercise of time control might very well drive this man to the acts
that he performed with the girls, in the same way that she seemed
unable to manipulate a door unless she satisfied her sexual demands
to allow her concentration to blossom.
Even if she didn't understand all the aspects of her situation, the
visions and the strange twists of her journey, at least there was
explanation for her apparent nymphomania. In a strange way, while it
didn't quell her body's desires, it did make her feel better about
her situation. She pulled again at her cuffed hands. As she had
learned to expect, her body reacted to the jingle, and the sensation
of the metal about her wrists. She gasped this time, and he gazed at
her strangely.
"How do you control time as easily as you do?"
She was surprised that he would answer, feeling that perhaps knowing
more about the underlying mechanics gave him an edge over her, a
foothold to help control her. But he didn't hesitate, as she'd
feared. The answer, however, didn't help her. The answer came to her
as swiftly as his understanding of it did. Perhaps it was a
combination of both.
(He's a man. Different hormones.)
"Practice," he offered. And he, at least, believed it.
<---===***===--->
"How serious are you?" he asked.
"Serious about what?" For some reason, her mind leapt to her
relationship with John. And that, my friends, was not serious in the
slightest. Not anymore.
"Serious about giving yourself to me."
Dawn realised with a twist of unease that this was exactly what
she'd done when she'd accepted the handcuffs. She was his -- owned
like a piece of property. The thought drove more tingles into her
breasts, which she really didn't understand. She'd had friends that
had experimented with bondage, and she'd played once or twice with
padded handcuffs, but she'd never really been turned on by power
games before. But in this world, this universe, anything seemed to
spark her imagination. She sighed. Owned. Yes, she could control her
own time bubble, but was that enough when one was wearing the
Timeman's handcuffs?
She shivered. "I don't want anyone hurt anymore than necessary."
"Would you sacrifice your own skin to save, say, Kate?"
Dawn shivered again, wanted to push herself up, handcuffs and all,
and run. He could shoot her, maybe, but he couldn't simply freeze
her. She might make it.
She could see it in his eyes. He wanted her to accept, wanted her to
agree to her own debasement. It represented a control unlike that
control that he enjoyed over Kate, and Leigh, and Andrea.
"You want to whip me?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.
"Would you trade places with Kate, right now, if I asked?"
Dawn sighed. Her mind fought with her body, arguing with hormones
about as useless as arguing with a brick wall. She closed her eyes,
feeling the lashes of his whip striking her skin. It wasn't as if
she'd never felt, vicariously, the sting of his whip before.
Slowly, she nodded.
"If you must, I'll let you whip me."
Chapter 135
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Dawn stared in confusion at where the girls had stood. Crystal,
Wade, Danielle and Pamela were simply gone, like a puff of wind
disperses smoke. The handcuffs that had held them swung silently,
still wrapped around the safety railing to which they'd been
secured, and the ropes that had held Danielle and Crystal's ankles
lay inert upon the ground. Leigh, Andrea, Monique and Nicole still
knelt quietly in their assigned places, and Kate still hung weary
against the pillar, but the new girls were gone, as if they'd never
existed.
"Where ..." Dawn whispered.
His voice came from behind her right ear, close and intimate.
"They're back in their seats, panties back where they began, around
their hips, watching as the Clones begin their attack."
Dawn spun slowly, her eyes wide. "You sent them back?"
He nodded. "Safe and sound. They'll never remember this place. Not
the sex. Not the pain. Not even the taste of their own panties.
Scout's honour."
She doubted if he'd ever been a boy scout, though he obviously knew
his knots.
"That easy?"
He shrugged. She didn't know whether to interpret that as a shrug of
affirmation, or a shrug of denial. She shivered. She hadn't even
sensed when he'd released them. When she'd stood up, with his help,
at the top of the escalator, the girls had hung here, naked and
moaning. When she'd looked up from her runners, at the base of the
staircase, the girls were gone.
She sighed, not understanding, and simply watched as he moved around
her and crouched near Leigh. Idly, she wondered if he could sense
her, like a bird can sense the cat. What might happen if she
stepped forward, aiming her runner at the back of his head?
She sighed again. She wouldn't attack him -- couldn't risk it. Not
yet. She needed to know more.
She took a step backward, noting that he stiffened at the sound of
her runners against the marble, but then he bent back towards Leigh,
his hand and fingers working quietly behind her back.
Dawn hoped that he wasn't tightening her bonds.
<---===***===--->
The girls didn't rise from their knees, even after their arms were
freed. Leigh knelt quietly with an expression of resignation upon
her face. Dawn watched the girl, as her lips began to curl in a
grimace of pain that quickly spiralled into an expression of agony.
The girl struggled to hold still, even her fingertips quivering with
effort resting on her thighs.
"Ahhhhhh," Leigh moaned.
Dawn glanced at him, and he nodded to her. Dawn stepped forward,
crouching in front of Leigh. To the side, she was aware of the
others, slowly falling into the same pattern as Leigh. Andrea began
to moan, and Monique followed but a moment later, her voice quickly
rising in a scream resembling that of a cat in pain. Nicole, alone,
seemed to be able to suffer whatever agony had been inflicted upon
them. Dawn envisioned electric implants, perhaps deep inside
shooting sparks into their nerves. She could see the pain in
Nicole's eyes, but the girl merely pressed her lips together and
bore it silently.
"What's wrong," Dawn whispered. She wished fervently that her hands
were free. She wanted to gather the naked girl into her arms and
stroke her.
Leigh looked up, as if surprised to see Dawn there. Instead of
answering, she hissed.
"It's you. Oh, God, it's you."
Dawn recoiled as if stung, misunderstanding the words. She backed
away, sure that somehow her proximity was causing the girl's agony.
Leigh shook her head, and cried out weakly.
"Pins. And. Needles. Our arms. They've been tied like that since
this morning. Christ."
And suddenly, Dawn knew, her own arms tingling in an approximation
of Leigh's pain. When the ropes had released, Leigh's nerves had
awakened after a long slumber, driving bolts of lightning into her
arms. Kate had screamed, too, when he'd untied her arms, and Dawn
hadn't understood. Oh, God, he'd moved Kate's arms relentlessly
tying her to the pillar, even as her nerves had awakened, and she
had screamed. Dawn moaned.
After a few minutes, Leigh began to settle, and she slowly raised
her head, tears shining in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"For what?" Dawn had settled into a cross-legged pose in front of
Leigh, helplessly watching as the girls worked through their
internal discomfort. It would ease for all of them, like it did when
one slept awkwardly on her arm, and discovered in the middle of the
night, not an arm, but a dead piece of wood attached to her
shoulder. Eventually, the pain absorbed into relative normalcy.
"Sorry that you got dragged into this. You were free, weren't you?"
Dawn felt tears well up, but she willed them back. Slowly, she
nodded. It wasn't the girls' fault she was handcuffed here. Not at
all. It was ironic really. If it weren't for her, Dawn mused, Leigh
probably wouldn't have been tied like she was, her pain used to
drive her out. She couldn't find the words to express her thoughts.
Not without crying herself.
"I'm sorry," Leigh repeated. Her eyes then dropped back to her
knees, as Dawn felt a light touch upon her shoulder. The Timeman
had come to collect her.
<---===***===--->
"Water. And whatever candy bars you find."
"Steal them?" Leigh asked lightly.
"Do you have any money?"
The girl shook her head slowly, and then began to walk away, towards
the escalator. Dawn watched as the naked girl's feet whispered
across the marble, dodging nimbly around frozen shoppers, and
protuding benches.
What was preventing her from running? The ropes had been removed
from her arms, and she was relatively pain free. The Timeman wasn't
levelling that damn gun at her back. The other girls watched her
disappear up the corridor. Even after she was out of sight, Dawn
could sense her, walking more slowly after she rounded the corner,
her smaller tennis ball spinning steadily as she moved away.
Dawn was about to turn and ask him what kept Leigh from running, but
it came to her before the question passed her lips.
Consequences. Even when free, the girl wasn't. Her range of motion
was limited to whatever he allowed her, freezing and unfreezing her
world to allow her motion, or restricting it to keep her close.
Idly, Dawn wished it was so easy for her, but would she use it the
way he did? She didn't think so, but absolute power ...
She shivered.
It wasn't the only reason that Leigh would return. Innately,
somehow, the Timeman understood this, even more than his control
over her physical world. Even if Leigh were as free as Dawn was, in
terms of controlling her own time bubble, she would no sooner
abandon the girls to the Timeman, than she would kill her own
mother. Leigh would return with what he'd asked of her, as surely as
the sun set in the west and rose in the east. To abandon Kate, to
abandon Andrea, to abandon Nicole and Monique unthinkable. Dawn
felt it tug at her own heart. She might escape, but she wouldn't. No
more than Leigh would.
Everyone was silent, except for the occasional sigh from Kate. The
patter of bare feet brought Dawn's head up, as Leigh rounded the
corner, Leigh's eyes bright and happy, the expression almost of a
child who had completed a task.
In her arms, against her bare breasts, she cradled a mound of
chocolate bars, and three bottles of Evian water, condensation
dotting the clear plastic. She bent as she approached, and Dawn had
the crazy image that the girl was bowing. The food tumbled from her
arms to lay in a disorganised heap in the middle of the bench to
which Kate had been formerly leashed. Leigh backed away, and
returned to her position. She didn't kneel, but stood easily, her
hands brushing at her naked thighs. When the Timeman didn't move
from his position, leaning against another pillar, Leigh caught his
eye.
"Please, can we eat and drink? Please?"
He laughed softly, and tilted his head in a silent question.
"It's been a hard morning," Leigh said. Her admission that he'd
managed to tax them seemed to pain her further. "We're hungry and
thirsty. I'll beg you, if you wish."
He waved her off, and she bowed her head. Dawn wasn't sure, but she
thought that the girl might be silently weeping, her bare shoulders
shaking slightly.
"It's inhumane," Dawn said quietly. "Why won't you let her eat?"
He smiled and pushed himself from the pillar. He approached Dawn,
and she willed herself to stand there, not backing away from him. He
might slap her, or strike her more forcefully for impertinence, for
all she knew. She cringed, but gently, he merely touched her
shoulder. Obediently, she turned herself around, presenting her
denim clad bottom to him. She felt his fingers slide down her sleeve
and then almost caress her bound wrists. A click reached her ears,
and suddenly she was free again, her hands parted, and she brought
them in front of her, inspecting her fingers. It felt nearly
deliciously good to be free of the cuffs. She massaged her wrists
slowly. Faint red marks upon her skin reflected where the steel had
held her. She turned to him, forgetting for a moment his refusal to
let the other girls eat.
"Thank-you," she said.
He nodded, acknowledging her.
"They can eat after Kate. Kate needs the energy more."
"Are you going to release her?"
"In a while. For now, you can feed her. She needs to eat more than
she needs to be free of the ropes."
Dawn swallowed, and stared at him, her eyes questioning. He nodded
once, and she nearly ran to the bench, gathered a bottle of water,
and a hersey milk chocolate bar. Her own stomach growled, as she
rose and began to walk towards Kate.
Chapter 136
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Kate looked weary, her eyes tired, but alive. She stood, her legs
still spread, most of her weight borne by her ropes, not her toes.
She sighed, her eyes flicking from the food in Dawn's hands to her
face. Suddenly a tear spilled, tracing down her cheek like a river
until it dropped from her jawline, splashing to her still bound
breasts.
"I'm sorry," Kate whispered. "I tried not to scream."
Dawn's heart nearly broke, and she placed the bottle on the ground
near Kate's bare foot, then rose. She traced along Kate's cheek,
brushing wisps of red hair from her forehead, and out of her eyes.
Dawn shook her head. "It was because of me that you're like this.
I'm the one who should be sorry."
Kate grinned, and sighed. The irony of it, what he'd managed to do
to them reflected across her lips.
"Welcome to the fun house," Kate whispered.
Dawn shivered. While she was still very uneasy about being here, it
seemed right somehow -- that she'd been led here ever since she'd
woken in pain and agony on the floor of an exam room that seemed a
million miles away.
"We'll get through this," Kate whispered. "If you don't fall apart."
She paused, and then a mischievous grin graced her mouth. "We'll get
through this if I don't die of thirst, that is."
That the girl had even asked for a drink crashed her situation back
into Dawn's mind. She withdrew her finger, which had wanted to drift
down Kate's bound body, touching and caressing her, taking the pain
and turning it into something else. Dawn gulped.
"Jeez. I'm sorry."
She hurriedly bent again, and lifted the Evian. The bottle burned
coolness into her fingertips. Her fingers slipped against the top,
and she grimaced. She was loathe to ask for help as her fingers
slipped again. His eyes burned into her back, watching her struggle,
probably grinning. Tears of frustration flooded into her eyes, and
only Kate's soft voice preventing her from crying like a baby. She
wanted to scream at him, that it was unfair, that she didn't want to
be here. Instead, she bit down on her tongue and tried the slippery
top again. It felt like all the strength had left her arms.
"Easy, Dawn. It's only a top. Wipe your fingers and try again."
Dawn looked up at the bound girl, anchoring on her voice. There was
no hint of pain there, even though she was sure that Kate still
ached from the beating. Her breasts. Her vagina. Probably every part
of her. Yet, she was the calm one.
Dawn sighed, and moved her fingers to her sweatshirt, between her
breasts. They tingled uncomfortably as her hand passed close to
them, but she ignored her body's pleas and simply wiped the
perspiration and condensation from her finger tips. The top spun
off, as though it had only been teasing her, and she could sense him
laughing at her, though only inside.
She closed her eyes, and gave a prayer of thanks.
Kate opened her mouth, and Dawn tilted the bottle towards her,
expecting the man to call her back, to prevent Kate even this small
comfort, the ultimate tease.
The water touched Kate's lips, and she drank greedily, her throat
working. At last, she stopped with a sigh. Dawn let the bottle fall
from the girl's lips.
"Thank, you," Kate whispered. Even at a whisper, her voice seemed to
have gathered strength from the liquid that Dawn had given to her.
Dawn began to unwrap the chocolate, and feeling like a nursemaid,
she fed Kate, one piece at a time. Each time, her fingers brushed
Kate's lips, more tingles delved into her spine.
When the food was gone, and Kate had drank as much as she wanted,
Dawn turned.
<---===***===--->
He'd relented, and allowed the other girls to share the remaining
water, and eat some candy to refuel their bodies. Leigh's fingers
were sticky with chocolate, and Dawn saw herself for a moment,
forced to lick them clean. Her breasts tingled at the thought, but
then Leigh, as if she were aware of the thoughts, licked her own
fingers clean with an expression of sexual rhapsody upon her face.
Dawn snapped her eyes to the Timeman, who watched Leigh, as well,
with the hint of a smile upon his face. Dawn felt like she had
walked in on a roommate in the middle of sex. Leigh, looked up,
perhaps realising what she'd done, but merely smiled at Dawn. Dawn
turned her eyes away again, flushing.
"Take some," the Timeman said.
Dawn started, realising that he was talking to her. The bottle in
her hand was half empty, and while she wasn't used to sharing germs
with other girls, she gamely lifted it to her lips. She imagined
that she could actually taste Kate on the plastic, but as the water
gushed over her tongue, she swallowed nearly as greedily as Kate
had, not fully realising that she was thirsty. She glanced over at
the bench. Candy remained strewn across the slats of the bench, one
or two bars having fallen to the marble.
"Go ahead. Have some," the Timeman said, obviously following her
gaze. As far as she knew, he hadn't taken any for himself. Slowly,
she shook her head. She was hungry, but it seemed wrong somehow,
for her to eat chocolate. He shrugged, and turned back to watch the
other girls indulging in the sweet break.
Leigh's soft voice filled the corridor from where she knelt. She was
no longer eating.
"Is it over?" she asked.
He seemed to understand her, and nodded. Leigh let her breath fall
from her lungs, relief flushing across her face. Dawn sighed
inwardly. While the harshness of the morning was over for the
others, she suspected that it was only beginning for herself. That
Leigh had even ventured to ask the question spoke volumes about the
treatment that the girls had suffered to draw Dawn forward. Dawn
shivered, her heart beating a little faster.
Dawn sighed, and swallowed a few more mouthfuls of water. She idly
wondered how much longer she would be permitted to remain dressed.
<---===***===--->
She stood in the middle of a great square, surrounded by four naked
women, kneeling easily, their eyes alternately lifted towards her,
and then to the floor. Dawn shifted her weight from foot to foot,
fidgeting.
He'd arranged the girls a few moments ago, then began to rummage in
the backpack. Again, Dawn felt like sprinting, her runners pushing
her between Leigh and Andrea, there was plenty of room, and the
girls wouldn't stop her. She might make it. Or he might shoot her in
the back. She shivered. At least she wasn't handcuffed.
She glanced around herself again. The position of the girls, and
herself standing awkwardly in the centre reminded her of a magical
ceremony -- the art of black magic practised within a red pentagram,
daemons wailing. Or course, the square lacked a side, that that
would have been provided by Kate, but the redhead remained tied to
the pillar, like a sacrifice to the Gods.
"Dawn?"
She tore her eyes from Kate, and faced him. He stood outside of the
square, a long, thin rod balanced downward from his right hand,
extending down his leg, falling short of the marble beneath.
(Is that a riding crop? Oh, God. I said he could whip me.)
"Dawn, it's time."
She stared at him confused.
(Time to whip me?)
When she didn't move, he sighed.
"Take off your clothing, Dawn."
Slowly she shook her head. She was surrounded by nudity, even
recognised that she would, eventually, do as he asked, but her mind
rebelled. To remove her clothing would leave her with nothing. And
while her breasts ached, and her clitoris begged, she didn't want to
join Kate, and Leigh, and the others in this final affront to her
humanity. She closed her eyes and shook her head.
It wasn't his voice that emerged, but one of the girls that knelt
around the square, her voice lilting and husky, as if she didn't
want to speak but felt she had to.
"Dawn? I'm sorry that you're here. I'm sorry that we were used to
bring you here. I'm so sorry. But you have to do what he says. He'll
hurt you. He'll hurt us, until you do. I'd be willing to try it, you
know I would, but it's only clothing. You actually get used to it
after a while."
She didn't know where it came from, but she turned towards the voice
and opened her eyes. Leigh knelt in front of her, her eyes shiny
with tears. Her hands clenched helplessly at her thighs, and she
glanced nervously between the Timeman and Dawn as if she expected a
fiery showdown between two wizards.
Leigh cleared her throat. A single tear fell down her cheek, but she
ignored it.
"He made me strip in my high school. Take off my clothing in the
hallway, amongst my friends. They couldn't see me, but it was
probably the most difficult thing I've ever had to do." Dawn sensed
the other girls nodding slowly in agreement, perhaps reliving the
point at which he'd finally forced them to remove their last shreds
of modesty. Only Andrea didn't, her head remaining still, as if
attesting to her not minding in the slightest to be walking around
naked. Leigh's voice choked, but she continued somehow. "He. He
tied me up in front of my friends. Naked. My arms tied to a
basketball net, my friends, and strangers, and everyone in the
stands. He made me stand there. Naked, Dawn. I thought I was going
to die." She paused. Tears ran slowly down her face, her eyes
withdrawn into memory. Her voice choked again, but she finally said,
"But I survived it. I hate being naked all the time, but I'm still
here. I didn't die under that net, even if I wanted to. It's only
clothing. It doesn't change who you are."
Dawn wanted to run and hug the girl as she lowered her eyes to hide
the tears. A glance at the Timeman, his suddenly hard eyes, told her
there would be no reprieve. Leigh was right. He'd use that thin rod
on someone, until she screamed, and Dawn did exactly as she was
told.
"You don't need to hit anyone," she said slowly.
With that, she grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt, pulling it over
her head. She let it drop at her feet, then kicked off her runners,
watching as they settled pointing at each other near her discarded
shirt. In one smooth motion, she pushed her jeans down her legs, and
then pulled off her socks with her toes. For one sweet moment, she
stood, her hands on her hips, knowing that she might not feel the
soft touch of modesty again until they were all free of this strange
universe. She took a breath, and he seemed content to wait, as long
as she wasn't defiant. She let the air from her lungs, and reached
behind her. With a practised ease, she unhooked her bra. She closed
her eyes, knowing that he was watching this show intently, and let
the underwear drop. It fell down her arms like an abandoned lover,
the cool air of the mall kissing her nipples. It was the law firm all
over again. Naked in public, where people could see her. Jabs of
excitement penetrated her, and she gasped. Still with her eyes
closed, she pushed her panties down her legs, and stepped free of
them.
She lifted her arms in the air, like a trapeze artist making a
perfect landing, and slowly spun. She opened her eyes to soft
clapping. The girls watched her, perhaps comparing themselves
subconsciously to her. The Timeman's eyes were upon her face,
whereas she expected them to rest upon her now bare chest. She made
no attempt to hide herself. There was no point. Nevertheless, she
blushed, and that she couldn't stop. A tear escaped, but only one.
"Satisfied?" she asked.
"Very."
The blush returned, and she fell to her knees as her legs buckled
beneath her. She was one of them now, as surely as her clothing lay
surrounding her, and the cool air kissed her bare skin.
<---===***===--->
She couldn't believe that she was doing it. Her fingers folded her
clothing with a practised ease, the warmth of her body still upon
the jeans, and underwear. She bowed her head, and lifted the small
pile upwards.
She sensed him come close, and shivered as he took the clothing from
her hands. The tears came then, as it drilled into her. He had taken
her clothing, and she had no way of getting it back. She was naked,
until he either returned the clothing, or sent her back.
He wasn't going to return it. She'd given it to him. She'd given
herself to him.
She shivered, and waited.
Chapter 137
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The knots were tighter than Dawn thought. The marble felt strange
and foreign beneath her knees.
First her ankles, then her knees. After her lower legs were freed,
Kate stood with a groan of pain, but lessening the stress on her
still bound arms, and the rope holding her waist to the pillar. It
was slow work, her fingers working at the unfamiliar knots.
Dawn could feel their eyes on her, merely watching because there was
nothing else to do.
Kate cried out twice, once for each breast, as she worked at the
ropes bound around the base of each. She tried to be gentle, and
Kate managed to keep her vocalisations to a minimum. It felt strange
to be actually touching another girl's breasts. A fleeting image of
her fingers caressing Linda's breasts rose to her mind, and she
thought that she'd go crazy with the pounding between her legs.
Slowly, the remainder of the ropes fell to the floor, and when she
was finally free of her prison, Kate stood silently, staring at
Dawn. It wasn't appreciation for freeing her -- that could have been
anyone, Dawn supposed. But she'd been picked. No, Kate's eyes
projected sympathy, and shared experience.
Kate moved forward, her legs a little wobbly, and hesitated. Dawn
felt a tear trace down her cheek, and then, without quite
understanding how she had fallen, found herself cradled in Kate's
arms, sobbing. At any other time, finding herself pressed together
with another naked woman, breast to breast, might have been
uncomfortable. Now, it made the universe, even this crazy universe,
bearable.
He let them hold each other for longer than Dawn had expected, and
it came as no surprise as her name floated from his lips.
"Dawn?"
Kate released her reluctantly, stepping away, and then around her
towards the other girls who knelt quietly on the marble. As she
passed, Kate bent and brushed her lips along Dawn's cheek. The kiss
was chaste, and for once, the tingles didn't rise into her being.
The kiss brought only a sense of comfort and belonging. Dawn lowered
her head, and waited for the Timeman to approach, as Kate moved
stiffly towards the edge of the square, and the rest of the
captives.
<---===***===--->
Dawn stood shaking, her back pressed against the still warm tiles
where Kate's body had been bound only moments before. She held her
hands for him, along the sides of the pillar, shivering as he
wrapped coarse rope about her wrists. When he was done, he stepped
back and surveyed her. She watched him, trying to project an image
of strength, but knowing that it was probably failing. When one was
naked and tied to a pillar, it was difficult to mask a sense of
impending doom.
"Do you want me to spread my legs?" she asked evenly. In her minds
eye, she saw herself as Kate had been, helplessly spread, almost
offering her nakedness to the whip.
He shook his head, but he didn't leave her ankles free. She
supposed, that in pain, a girl might do something unexpected, like
lift a foot into a groin. Or perhaps on purpose. Either way, she
stood still while he wrapped a length of cord about her ankles, and
lashed her securely. She wiggled her bare toes, and they obeyed her,
even with the tight ropes restricting her movements.
She lifted her eyes, and he smiled at her. The smile frightened her,
but she swallowed, and refused to break her eyes from his.
"How do you feel?"
"A little vulnerable," she said slowly. The other girls weren't
looking at her. Only him.
(A lot vulnerable.)
She pulled at her wrists. They moved, but not enough to allow her to
wriggle her wrists free, or to allow her to move away from anything
coming at her.
"What are you going to do with me?" she asked. She didn't want to
know the answer, but perhaps by knowing, she could prepare herself,
mentally, if not physically.
Instead of answering her, he asked her a question.
"Would you like me to tie your breasts?"
(Yes.)
(No.)
She wanted to scream at him: Why? Did it make any difference, why?
She slowly shook her head. Whatever he had planned for her, having
her breasts tied didn't sound like it would help her deal with it.
Honestly, she was surprised that he'd asked her. It wasn't like she
could have stopped him if he'd wanted to tie her breasts.
He nodded. Slowly, he picked up the thin rod, and her eyes widened.
(He's going to hit me with that thing. And I can't move.
Oh, shit.)
He smiled, and gently tapped his hand with the device.
(He won't hit me that gently.)
She shivered. Her body ached. Completely. From the tips of her bare
breasts, to the base of her feet. He was going to whip her, and
there wasn't anything that she could do about it. In desperation,
she tried to project her time bubble towards him. He must have felt
it, because he laughed gently.
"That won't work, little one."
She closed her eyes. Tears of frustration and impending pain rolled
down her face.
"Why?"
"Why, what?"
"Why are you going to hurt me?"
"Because you need to understand."
She swallowed. She'd come here to understand, been driven here to
put her life in jeopardy to save them, to save herself. Her stomach
felt like a million butterflies decided to have a convention.
"Please, you don't need to do this to me. I understand."
(I understand, because I felt it. God, I felt it.)
Her vagina clenched rhythmically, as if anticipating the pain, and
the tingles that it would drive into her soul.
(I'm not a fucking masochist. I'm not.)
(I know. I know.)
"Please?"
She hated begging this man for anything, but her words seemed to
widen his grin. Hitting her, perhaps, was more than for her
understanding. Hitting her, and the thought forced another shiver
down her spine, was for her being here at all. In some way, she'd
spoiled his fantasy, and at the same time, represented something
beyond what Kate, or Leigh, could give him.
"Thighs, stomach, or breasts?"
The question came almost nonchalantly. Innocently.
She shivered.
"You don't have to hit me," her voice was cracking, and tears fell
unheeded down her face. His face was a blur in the overhead lighting
of the mall. Surrealistically, shoppers surrounded the drama,
children, and men, and women, silently witnessing her introduction
into this world.
He stood quietly, not repeating his question, but expecting an
answer. She understood, with utmost certainty, that it didn't matter
where she chose. He'd hit her wherever he wanted, and she feared
that she knew exactly where that would be.
(Those things are made for hitting horses, for Christsakes.)
She swallowed, and her voice was barely audible.
"If you must, you can whip me. But don't make the mistake of doing
it for me."
He smiled.
"But it is for you."
She felt sick, and she fought down the gorge rising. For a moment,
she considered letting it rise, being sick. But it wouldn't save
her. Of that, she was also certain.
She raised herself up, the rope holding her tightening as she lifted
her chin.
"Stomach," she whispered. Knowing that it didn't make any difference
at all. Kneeling around her, she could see Kate and Leigh crying,
nearly as hard as she was.
<---===***===--->
Dawn screamed. She couldn't help it. The blow had come unexpectedly
-- in the wrong place, driving deep into her breasts like acid. She
struggled to keep her balance, her voice nearly foreign to her, like
another entity, separated from her by the sharp fire radiating from
her chest.
"God. Not again."
But God wasn't there anymore, and it fell against her again, driving
blackness into her vision. She didn't want to pass out, even knew
that what Kate had experienced had been far worse than this. He'd
only tapped her, little more than what he'd done to his own hand as
he talked to her.
She'd never been hit before. Not really hit. Or whipped.
Her voice rose again, expressing fiery agony.
"Please. Oh, God, please."
She willed her mouth to stop, but it refused to listen, babbling
like it belonged to another person.
"It hurts. Please. I've learned whatever it is you wanted me to
learn. I'll do what you want, just stop hitting me. Please. Oh,
God. Please."
His voice came from close, kissing her ear. He was standing beside
her, and she could sense his arousal. It had blossomed far more
intensely than when he'd been whipping Kate. She didn't understand,
but her own body was mirroring his state, bubbling in sexual energy,
screaming to reduce her pain through orgasm. Her hips rocked, no
matter how much she tried to keep them still. She thought that she
might have broken the skin at her ankles, pulling. Ever pulling.
"I can put Kate back up here, instead."
She swallowed, hearing her mindless screaming wither.
He turned from her.
"I'll take her place. You're killing her."
Kate's sweet voice rose from the floor, like an unexpected saviour,
offering herself to ease Dawn's agony. Dawn drew in breath, ragged,
the air sweet against her sore throat.
She closed her eyes. In some strange way, she needed this. She
didn't know where the thought came from, but she clung to it, even
as her breasts screamed.
(Freedom. You're free while you're here.)
She swallowed, her saliva warm and wet against her parched throat.
Somehow, she knew that he only intended to hit her once more, but it
would hurt. God, it would hurt.
"No," she whispered. "If you have to do it, hit me again."
He looked at her, then back at Kate. The redhead lowered herself,
comprehension flooding her. She nodded, though the tears didn't
stop.
"Breasts," Dawn whispered. And it seemed right.
<---===***===--->
The blackness overtook her, as the searing pain from the crop drove
relentlessly into her bared nipples. She was sure that her breasts
would split, but of course, they didn't. Kate had suffered worse
than this, and hadn't screamed. For her.
Her entire body clenched as the cleansing pain took her. Her teeth.
Her breasts. Her ribs. Her thighs. Her belly. Her vagina. Clench.
Clench.
And then the blackness welled up. She smiled, and welcomed it.
She hadn't screamed. It had hurt. God, had it hurt. But she hadn't
screamed.
<---===***===--->
She awakened in Leigh's arms. The girl knelt, holding her head,
stroking her hair. Tear stains wet her cheeks as she looked
worriedly at her charge.
Dawn tried to say something, but Leigh shushed her, pressing a
single finger to Dawn's lips. She reached to the side, and picked up
something, pressing it to Dawn's lips.
Dawn drank greedily, but Leigh stopped her. For a moment, Dawn felt
sick, like she was going to throw up violently. Her stomach
convulsed, then settled. Leigh allowed her to drink a little more,
and the liquid rasped over her sore throat.
She closed her eyes again for a while, and lost herself in the
luxury of Leigh's hands stroking her hair. When she opened her eyes
again, it was Kate holding her. From her vantage point, she could
see the directional lights high above, and a streak of sunlight
through distant skylights. The underside curve of Kate's bare
breasts shone in a dichotomy of light and shadow. Dawn sighed, and
she swallowed again, her throat complaining.
Kate glanced down.
"Welcome back," she murmured. Then to someone else, perhaps the man
who had whipped her. "She's awake now."
Kate returned her glance to Dawn, her expression worried.
Dawn found a grin.
"I didn't scream," she said.
Kate laughed, the worry erasing itself from her features.
"No, you didn't, Dawn. No, you didn't."
Somehow, it made them sisters, and it felt right.
Her breasts felt like pools of aching fire, and not only from the
abuse of the crop.
She was going to survive. Somehow.
Chapter 138
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Dawn stood on watery legs; the square had become the pentagon, Kate
now kneeling in her place. More than ever, she believed that she'd
been drawn into some black magic ceremony that demanded pain, rather
than outright sacrifice to achieve its goal. Perhaps, there wasn't
much difference between pain and sacrifice.
Her breasts felt like they'd been dipped in acid, and then flayed in
some bizarre medieval torture room. She lowered her eyes, and raised
her hands to trace their hot curves. She didn't want to look, was
afraid to look. This was the first after she'd risen shakily from
Kate's lap that she'd even dared to look at herself. To her
surprise, her breasts stood proudly upon her chest, the only
evidence of his play, two thin red welts that would probably fade in
an hour or so. Had such small marks driven that much pain into her?
She suspected that there as more to it -- perhaps, time control
intensified her reaction to the crop.
She shivered, knowing that it was much more than the physical pain.
Her situation, her lack of understanding, her confusion, her molten
sexuality and her fear all bonded together with the crop to drive
her most of the way to insanity while she'd been tied to that
pillar.
One more room to escape.
She swallowed and lowered her hands to brush at her side.
"You can't be serious," Kate said slowly. Her eyes were fixed on the
Timeman. "Wasn't whipping the two of us enough?"
"This won't hurt her."
"Then why don't you take off your clothes and jerk off, if it's so
fucking normal."
He sighed, and turned his eyes to Kate. She shied back on her heels,
for a moment, then shook herself.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled. She wasn't apologising for suggesting that
he take Dawn's place -- in that she was serious, if not hopeful.
Rather she was apologising for cursing.
"It won't hurt her," he repeated, obviously content to let the
swearing slide with Kate's apology.
"Everything is simple for you, isn't it?"
"It's the beginning of the end," he said, as if that made all the
difference in their tiny universe.
"You're asking her to jill off in front of everyone. She's new -- it
doesn't matter what she's seen, or done, before she was here. It's
too much."
Dawn glanced at Kate. The girl's face was reddening, but Dawn
couldn't tell if it was the conversation, or her own situation
rising up and kicking at her again. And 'jill off'? Dawn hadn't
ever heard the term before, but she certainly knew what it meant.
She swallowed heavily.
"Crystal survived the experience."
"Crystal was never going to be here for any length of time. Dawn
is. You can't do this to her."
He raised his eyebrows, and smiled.
"Would you care to join her?"
Kate paled. "I'd take her place. Gladly. It's not like I have a damn
choice. She's just been whipped on the breasts, for the love of
God."
He smiled.
"So were you."
Dawn slowly slipped to her knees, unnoticed. Dawn turned towards the
corner of the pentagon where Kate knelt, where she shook in anger
and concern. Dawn swallowed.
"Kate. I need to do this. I don't understand why, but I do."
"You don't. You could run."
Dawn smiled. "Would you?"
Kate hesitated, and then shook her head. Dawn nodded in
understanding.
"I don't know if I can do it, but he's right. At least it won't
hurt."
Kate sighed, and nodded. She ceased her objections, but not before
throwing a withering glance at the Timeman. Dawn wouldn't have
wanted to be on the receiving end of that glance, but the Timeman
merely laughed.
Dawn sighed, and tried to steady her nerves. She doubted if she
could do it, even if her body desperately wanted it. Not in front
of everyone. Not like this.
She swallowed heavily, and closed her eyes.
<---===***===--->
She didn't know it, but she automatically adopted the same pose as
Crystal had. Her breasts ached as they pressed into the cool marble
where a million pairs of shoes had passed. Her cheek pressed into
the floor, and she raised her hips slightly, only enough to allow
the fingers of her right hand to slip below, and touch.
(Oh, God. Oh, God.)
Her vagina screamed, her altered hormones, her whipping, and the
naked girls nestled around her driving into her mind like a
super-fuelled fantasy. She could sense them, their arousal, from
watching her, from their own enforced nudity, their helplessness.
She was Dawn, then five naked girls, watching, ever watching, then
Dawn again.
Her fingers worked, caressing, like a lover, finding her familiar
rhythm, stroking, discovering the wetness between her legs like a
flood.
A groan reached her ears, and she dimly recognised her own husky
tones in the sound.
Still her fingers slipped through her, driving her desperately
towards the edge. The rest of them, the naked girls, the Timeman,
all receded. The fire in her breasts intensified, and she felt the
edge of the chasm approaching like a locomotive.
(No. No. NO. NO. NO. Please, no.)
She opened her eyes. Leigh knelt, watching her. Fascinated. Her
face held an expression of sexual abandonment, and envy, every fibre
of Leigh's being crying out to switch places, to be allowed to find
peace, her hormones denied even longer than Dawn's.
(No. No. No. Yes. No.)
She tore her gaze from Leigh, a glimmer touching the last remaining
vestige of humanity left in her howling mind. She was so close. So
unbelievably close.
Her fingers shifted rhythms, and she moaned. The moan would be
mistaken by all of her audience for something else, but to her, it
was a moan of denial. Her fingers slipped into a slower rhythm,
something that teased, but would never satisfy. She couldn't believe
that she was going to do it, when he'd given her this. It was a
gift, she knew. But accepting it, seemed ... wrong.
If she truly climaxed, she would be stronger, more clear-headed.
She was not being denied basic drives, unlike the other girls. All
she needed to do was speed up that finger, like that, stroke
herself, once more.
She stopped her finger, before it pushed her over the edge, her moan
rising in a parody of sexual ecstasy. She'd heard similar moans from
the girls on the pornographic tapes that she sometimes watched with
John. For the first time, she understood what the girls on those
tapes might actually be feeling.
Desperately, she turned her thoughts to John, feeling the excitement
recede. It didn't disappear, but his image, the man that would have
raped her, pushed the sexual abandonment back. It wasn't much, but
it would have to be enough.
Like other girls that she'd bantered with, locker room trash talk,
she'd faked more than a few orgasms. It kept her lovers happy; no
victim, no crime. She'd never been caught, that she knew of, and
she'd climaxed enough to know what she sounded like at the pinnacle.
Even John had been the recipient of more than one of the porn girls
moans.
Would the Timeman know? Could he read her mind, touch her senses,
jump into her? She didn't think he could, that she would sense his
presence in the recesses of her mind.
Her finger twitched, waiting impatiently to push her onwards, to
give her the gift of release.
(No. I don't want it. Not this way.)
She closed her eyes, and allowed her mouth to open.
"Ahhhhhh."
Her voice filled the corridor. She doubted if she had fooled the
girls, felt it within them somehow. Actually tasted Kate's
disappointment -- Kate had wanted her to dive over the edge, if only
because she couldn't, and she desperately wanted to.
(I'm sorry Kate. Not like this.)
Her voice spiralled down, and she forced her hand from her lips. The
moan of disappointed dreams and unfair frustration wasn't faked.
She heard him clapping quietly, and though it made her blush, she'd
proved she still retained some control.
She sighed. It was something.
Her body ached. God, it ached. She was certain that she'd regret
that she hadn't accepted the gift, but for now, it was the right
thing to do.
She rolled over to her back, her bare breasts heaving, completing
the image of a girl satiated, even when she was anything but. She
smiled at the ceiling high above, and sighed.
She'd escaped one more room.
Chapter 139
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
It had been a long time since she had walked barefoot through the
grass. The spring grass, under her feet, felt as soft as cotton --
much more comfortable than the asphalt that bordered on too hot
beneath her before he'd allowed them to move to the grassy
boulevards to each side of the roadway. She pulled against her
wrists, the now familiar rings of steel holding them behind her
back. She sighed, the image of her clothing, lying abandoned back
beside a pillar where her breasts had been whipped, flooded into her
mind, threatening tears.
Beside her, Leigh stepped, her eyes downcast, perhaps watching for
sharp object concealed in the turf. Kate walked along on her other
side, almost like a pair of naked, female guards.
"How are you holding up?"
Dawn lifted her head, and smiled as best she could at Leigh who'd
addressed the question to her in a low, almost conspiratorial voice.
She glanced to her right. The Timeman walked moodily amongst the
cars, away from the girls. Andrea, Monique and Nicole walked on the
other side of the road, along lawns and across bus stops.
"My breasts hurt," Dawn mumbled.
"He won't do that to you again."
"I hope not."
"There was a point to it, but damned if I get it," Leigh said
easily.
Dawn pulled again on her bound wrists. Leigh's upper arms were still
decorated with faint red rope burns from her earlier torments, but
her hands were free now. Only Dawn wore restraints here, and she
supposed that she understood the necessity of them from the
Timeman's point of view, but nevertheless, she wished that she could
walk free. Her balance was thrown off a little by her arms, but she
compensated, and continued walking. The grass nearly sighed as she
moved over it.
"Is it far?"
"Is what far?"
"Wherever we're going?"
Leigh laughed, her voice light and carefree upon the spring air.
"I don't know where he's taking us this time. If it's back to the
mansion, then probably ten more minutes." Leigh glanced into the
road, then back at Dawn, her eyes narrowing. "You've been to the
mansion, haven't you?"
Dawn nodded. She glanced down to watch her toes slip through the
grass. From across the road, a burst of laughter, quickly stilled,
rattled across the silent roadway.
"You were wearing Nikes and Levis. Oh, my, God."
It didn't make sense to Dawn, but she nodded, her lost clothing
rippling tendrils of longing through her.
"He's taking us back to the Mansion," Kate said easily.
Dawn cast her a puzzled look.
"It has a cellar that locks," Kate said, as if that made all the
difference in the world.
The girls lapsed into silence again, only the whisper of their feet
through the grass interrupting the stillness of the universe. She'd
been perhaps ten the last time she'd walked barefoot through the
grass -- and despite the handcuffs, and despite her enforced nudity,
Dawn discovered that she actually liked the feeling, and missed it
when they were finally coaxed back into short roadway leading back
to the Mansion.
<---===***===--->
Her nose itched, and she nearly reached for it until she realised
that her hands remained pinned behind her. She nearly nudged the
Timeman, demanding to be scratched, when she thought better of it.
The girls lounged around the living room, their naked skin
reflecting the sunlight from the window. Dawn shook herself
mentally. They were all naked, and it seemed almost -- normal. Her
own body, devoid of clothes, she didn't even notice unless she
looked down. Yes, she would have preferred her jeans and sweatshirt
back, but overall, she was surprised. She was getting used to
walking around naked, and seeing the others wandering naked through
the universe. She sighed, knowing that it was a mistake to get used
to being here, but it was simpler. Even if she had to be naked all
the time, it was a small price to pay for doors opening without
having to masturbate before hand, and food was plentiful and didn't
have to be painfully scavenged.
Andrea and Leigh lounged on one sofa, their ankles chained to the
legs. Nicole wore a simple pair of handcuffs. To Dawn, it seemed
like the girl could slip her thin hands from the loose bands if she
wanted, but she didn't make the attempt. She lay on her front, her
bound hands tenting over a book, her attention already absorbed.
Kate and Monique sat on the other white sofa, Kate leaning her head
back against the arm, Monique reading. Their ankles, like Leigh's
and Andrea's, were shackled loosely to the sofa. None of them were
going far, but they seemed more free than Dawn felt.
"We can't go anywhere, unless you let us," Leigh said slowly.
"You'll be safer like that."
Leigh shrugged, her face showing that she obviously didn't believe
him. Dawn didn't either -- if there was a fire, then being naked and
shackled to a sofa couldn't possibly be safer for the girls. But
there wasn't much any of the girls could do about their situation.
Leigh leaned back into the sofa with a sigh.
"Leave it alone," Kate whispered without even opening her eyes. She
moved her foot slightly, the chain connecting her to the sofa leg
rattling quietly.
Leigh nodded, but spoke again. Her voice lilted with concern.
"Where are you taking her?"
"Outside, again."
Dawn realised that they were talking about her, almost as if she
weren't even there. She tilted her head back against the doorframe
and waited, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Behind her, her
fingers toyed with the painted surface of the doorjamb. The marble
in the front lobby where she stood reminded her uncomfortably of the
mall marble, and her breasts tingled in memory.
"You aren't going to whip her again?"
Dawn saw herself, suddenly, tied to a tree in the front yard, bark
scratching at the skin of her back. The whip came towards her
breasts, and she nearly screamed. Her body convulsed, and she shook
her head. She still stood in the front lobby, glancing into the
living room, but her breathing was now ragged and uneven.
"I think she's had enough for one day, don't you?"
"Just don't hurt her, okay? If you find an overwhelming urge to hurt
a girl or two, we'll provide. Okay?"
"I won't."
Leigh sighed, and glanced towards Dawn.
"You'll be all right."
Dawn smiled thinly. "You can't promise that, Leigh, but I'll be
fine." Despite her words, she was far from certain of that. Fine was
a relative term around these parts. She shifted again. Leigh nodded
and reached for a set of headphones, slipping them over her ears.
She flicked a hidden remote, and closed her eyes. Dawn could barely
hear a bass beat from the devices.
He turned towards her, and Dawn stepped back quickly.
"Don't hurt her," Leigh's voice floated again from the living room,
a little louder than was necessary, competing with the music from
her headphones.
He smiled, and Dawn cringed.
"Do you think I'll hurt you?"
Dawn sighed.
"Is there anything I can do if you decide to whip me again?"
"You could beg."
"Would it help me?"
He pursed his lips, then shook his head. He touched her arm, guiding
her towards the broken front door. Her immediate reaction was to
twist away from his touch, no matter how innocent, but she didn't,
and meekly began to walk, her bare feet whispering over the marble.
Back outside, she thought, naked. Her breasts hummed at the thought,
but she didn't see much choice. It would serve to inflate her sex
drive, but what didn't? She pulled again at her trapped hands.
(Only the two of us.)
<---===***===--->
She knelt in the soft grass, and then settled, crossing her bare
legs at the ankle and leaning back on her hands. The soft,
manicured lawn tickled her palms. Near the centre of the lawn, a
black squirrel regarded her, and then scampered off in search of
acorns.
He sat with her, leaning back against an elm tree, eyes lifted
towards the sky. Dawn shivered, glad that he wasn't watching her
nudity as she shifted her weight and settled.
"What are you going to do with me?"
"What do you mean?" he asked easily, his eyes still scanning the
motionless clouds above.
"Are you going to kill me? Rape me and then kill me?"
Instead of answering her, he lifted his hand and pointed to the sky.
She followed his arm, squinting into the bright sunlight. The clouds
hadn't moved in days, which only made sense to her, but it was as
disconcerting as the perpetual sunlight upon her skin.
"That one looks like a dragon," he said. "See the wings, the mouth,
the wisps of steam?"
At first, the cloud looked merely like cotton, then it shifted
shape, as though it responded to his suggestion, and a dragon in
flight appeared to her eyes. It was like looking at one of those
three dimensional illusions. She blinked. A small cloud beside the
dragon, frozen and still, looked a little like a girl sitting in the
grass, leaning on her arms and extending her legs in front of her.
The dragon seemed to be flying through the blue sky towards her. A
sense of helplessness welled up in Dawn, and she tore her eyes from
the sky.
His eyes rested on hers for a moment. Dawn had experienced these
kinds of looks before, mostly mutual, mostly at mixed parties. It
was a look that meant that she would be kissing the guy before the
end of the night.
(No. Not voluntarily at least. Not this time, girl.)
"I won't rape you. And I certainly won't kill you. Why would you
think that?"
She sighed. "All sorts of crazy things flip through a girl's mind
when she's handcuffed and naked in front of the man who whipped her
breasts for fun."
He lowered his eyes at that, almost as if he were a small boy,
ashamed of his behaviour. In a way, she thought, he was a small boy,
unable to control his base desires. True, this wasn't a normal
world, with normal desires, but it characterised him nearly
perfectly. It was ironic, actually, given his preoccupation with
controlling the girls that he couldn't even control himself.
"I'm not sure I could kill you, even if I wanted to. The universe, I
think, wouldn't let me. The gun would misfire, or the rope would
break as you dangled from a branch."
It confused her, but she sensed the truth in that. But what he
hadn't said resounded in her mind. He could hurt her, even if he
couldn't kill her. Perhaps, that had been the point of tying her to
that damn pillar. The universe might ensure her survival, but it had
a sense of humour when it came to the state of her skin.
"You couldn't have told me that before you made me take off my
clothes, could you?"
"Would you have run?"
She thought back, even to her early moments under his control, to
the moment that she'd stepped from behind the escalator, and told
him to stop whipping Kate. Would she have run? Even if she knew that
it was safe to do so? Could she?
Slowly, honestly, she shook her head.
He glanced up at the sky again, watching the motionless clouds.
"Why are you here?" he finally asked. Not looking at her.
"Excuse me? You whipped the hell out of Kate until I couldn't take
it anymore. I stepped out, and gave myself to you, wore your damn
handcuffs, remember?" She paused, her breasts aching. With
certainty, she knew that it wasn't simply from her whipping, but it
encapsulated some of the slow ache from Kate's breasts as well. A
lightning rod for pain, she grimaced. "You know that I can feel
them, don't you?"
He nodded absently. He found her eyes again. He sought to clarify
his earlier question.
"No. How did you come here? Why are you here, in this universe? I
didn't pull you in."
"No. You didn't. At least I don't think you did."
"Who are you?"
"Dawn," she answered simply.
He waited, and she pressed her lips together. She didn't want to
give him more information, but then she shrugged. He'd get it from
her anyway, with a little persuasion. Tie Kate to a pillar.
"I study physics, mainly astrophysics, at the university. That's
where I was when you, uh, stopped the universe from spinning. I was
writing an exam."
"How was it going?"
The question threw her. She wasn't expecting that one. His face
softened, and he laughed, presumably at her expression.
"I think if I ever get back, I'll pass it."
He nodded.
"I do, too." Then after a moment, he tilted his head. "You can
control time."
She didn't want to talk about this, as though revealing her secrets
could only hurt her. Understanding for her, wasn't deep in the
subject, but if she ever got out of this, she would be reading. A
lot. Admitting that she was only learning seemed dangerous. She
slowly shook her head.
"Dawn, we don't have much time left. You know that, and I know that.
Your presence here -- complicates things. I know that you can
control time, you freed Linda from the hot tub."
Dawn gasped. She should have realised that he would have sensed
that, even if he couldn't sense the others like she could. He'd
freed Linda, and he must sense his own bubbles.
Simultaneously, she shivered, remembering soft female fingers
stroking her, loving her, easing her loneliness for one far too
short evening. She'd left that to come here, to sit here, naked in
front of the man who'd whipped her breasts instead of caressing
them, to do what?
"Apparently, not as well as you can," she murmured.
He nodded, already knowing the answer.
"What's the trigger, for you?"
(Sex. Anger. A combination of both.)
"I don't understand."
"What do you need to think about to control Time?"
(Don't tell him.)
"It's an emotional response."
He nodded, as if he understood. He didn't, but that wasn't
important. Dawn found her mouth working without her permission. By
the time she caught her lips, she'd spilled a little more than she'd
intended.
"He tried to rape me, and it side-slipped. Scared the hell out of
me." She twisted her wrists in their bracelets, enjoying the concern
that surfaced on his face. It was clear that it had been the
time-slip more than the rape that had frightened her.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"The Time slip, or whatever the hell it was, sent him packing."
He nodded slowly, his features withdrawn. She sensed it, the Timeman
had felt that blip, as surely as she would have sensed any of his
activities in the Time haze. Of course, back then, a million years
ago, the universe had been spinning merrily along, and she'd only
had an exam to worry her head.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. He raised his eyes back to the sky, his
expression unreadable. She didn't know if he was apologising for her
involvement, or her confusion, or perhaps apologising for the entire
male segment of the species.
"It wasn't your fault."
He nodded, then returned his eyes to hers.
"Why is it dangerous for me to be here? Because you don't have full
control over me?" As if to punctuate her words, she sent out a
tentacle of time to touch his bubble. He jumped, and she grinned as
she pulled it back. That she was even able to grin surprised her,
but it felt normal, and healthy.
"Partly," he said, "but that isn't all." He seemed almost unnerved
that she'd reached out as easily as she had. Of course, the
sexuality that it drove into her clitoris nearly made her moan and
double over, but she somehow stopped herself from moving, or
squeezing her thighs. It was nearly impossible without even clothing
to hide her, to make her body restrict its own telling movements. He
didn't seem to notice.
"Why then? Will the universe collapse because I'm here?"
He looked up sharply, though angry with her. She relaxed a little.
He sighed, and his features showed his internal debate.
(Tell me. Tell me not. Tell me. Tell me not.)
"Dawn, this timeline, it's like a separate reality. The girls, Kate
and Leigh, and Monique and Andrea -- when they go back, it will be
like they've never been here. Phantoms, pretty phantoms."
Somehow, she already knew that was the case, that the others
wouldn't remember. But the Timeman, and herself -- would
remember, a cosmic rip in the separation of realities.
"Imagine," he said slowly, "imagine that you were raped here.
Before you freak out, I'm not going to rape you, but if you were, it
would be wrong."
"Very wrong. Definitely wrong," she whispered. Her heart hammered in
her chest.
(You want to be raped, don't you?)
(No. Sex is one thing. Rape quite another.)
He nodded, as if agreeing with her. Idly, she wondered why he hadn't
used sexual assault as an example.
"You get raped, and then I return you to the primary timeline, where
you've always lived."
"It's still wrong."
"Is it? Once this timeline collapses, where are the experiences, the
memories, the emotional canyons?"
"It still happened. I've been raped. Just not on the main timeline."
He sighed.
"Have you? Do experiences happen outside of Time. Can objects, or
anything exist without a time dimension?"
She shook her head, momentarily confused. Physics rushed at her --
Einstein, Hawking, Penrose. She shivered. They'd agree with her,
agree with him -- physically with him, emotionally with her. Rape
was still wrong, even if it didn't exist.
He changed tacks, throwing her further off balance.
"If I dream of raping you, or fantasise about it, is that wrong?"
She closed her eyes, and slowly shook her head.
"Fantasy is in your own head. It doesn't hurt anyone. If you
actually did it, like here, then it becomes more clear cut."
He nodded. "If I do it here, if I rape a girl, you, or Kate, or
Leigh, and you go back, it's like a fantasy. It never happened to
you. No bruises. No sore breasts. No violation. You don't know it
happened to you because it didn't."
She sighed. He really didn't see it.
"But it's not in your own mind. It isn't fantasy. You felt me. You
touched me. You saw me. You violated me. You know exactly what it
feels like, and you enjoyed it." She paused for a moment. "You
experience it, and that experience isn't gone. Is it?"
"If I don't tell you about it, and you continue to live your life.
It never happened."
She sighed again.
"So, date rape is all right as long as you drug the girl enough that
she can't remember."
He shook his head slowly. "Of course not, that actually did happen
to her, even if she wasn't aware of it. Here, the experience --"
"-- lives in your experience, your memories. You don't lose them
when you return, even if I do. It isn't any different."
He looked down, shaking his head. She took a deep breath and resumed
speaking before he could interrupt her.
"I'm going to remember all this, talking to you, sitting her naked
in front of you. It won't go away for me, will it?" Her voice
emerged as a whisper. She'd realised this all along, but it hadn't
forced itself into the forefront of her mind until now. "I'm going
to remember Leigh, and Kate, and Monique, and Nicole, and Andrea. Oh
my God."
He slowly nodded, not looking at her.
"That's why I'm dangerous," she said, wonder creeping into her
voice. "That's why you had to risk everything to make me come to
you. This isn't a fantasy anymore. Because I'll remember, too."
"You came to me on your own -- the universe ensured that. I helped
you step out, with Kate." He spoke to the grass between his feet.
"But, Dawn, I had to."
Her breasts ached, and her vagina clenched.
She swallowed heavily, and glanced upwards. The dragon still flew in
the sky, but it impossibly seemed a little closer to the naked girl,
sitting in the grass, high, high above.
"What happens now?" she whispered.
Chapter 140
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Their bare feet pattered on the planks that made up the staircase.
Dawn stood shivering at the top of the stairs, watching as Leigh's
legs flashed and disappeared as she stepped steadily downwards into
the gloom.
He stood behind Dawn, his fingers tickling her wrists as he removed
her handcuffs.
"Shit," Leigh murmured from somewhere down below, her voice rising
from the darkness like a ghost.
"What's the matter?" he called, his voice startling Dawn. She
pulled her own bare foot back from the first stair.
"It's dark down here, and I think I got a sliver in my foot," Leigh
said, her voice disembodied. Dawn couldn't hear the naked girl on
the stairs any longer. She'd reached whatever awaited them in the
darkness.
Dawn stepped down, two steps, her hands stretched out to the side,
seeking guidance. Her right hand touched damp cinder block, her left
waved through empty air. She supposed that the staircase led to a
wine cellar. She could smell loamy earth, and the sweeter odour of
yeast and alcohol. The planks under her feet were rough hewn,
prickling at her skin. They creaked as she moved, like an old
haunted mansion. Spiders, and vile insects inhabited Dawn's
imagination, all crawling towards her unprotected skin. She
shivered, though the space wasn't cold. It reminded her of a grave.
At least her hands were free.
Near what she judged to be the middle of the staircase, she turned
to face the single opening above her, light streaming down,
swallowed by the inky blackness where she could hear Leigh and Kate
talking in hushed tones.
The Timeman stood, hands braced against the doorframe, peering down
as she picked her way in descent.
"When will you be back for us?"
"Soon," he said.
With a sigh, she turned and followed the stairs until soft, packed
earth kissed her feet. She withdrew to stand on the last stair.
Above, she heard the door softly close, and then the unmistakable
sound of a click -- a lock, one to which she'd never have a key,
sliding home. The light narrowed as the door shut, until nothing but
blackness stretched out for infinity before her.
Her heart raced, banging against her ribs.
"Leigh? Kate?" she called.
"Over here," Leigh said, close on Dawn's left.
Dawn swallowed, and stepped down again to the dirt floor, hands
extended until she touched warm, soft, bare skin.
<---===***===--->
"What did you do with them?"
He laughed. "Jumpy?"
Monique shifted herself upon the sofa, her ankle chain jingling
softly. She peered at him, her book forgotten beside her left thigh.
Nicole watched almost casually over her shoulder, and Andrea
pretended to read a paperback, but he was sure that she was more
interested in the conversation.
"Ever since Dawn showed up, you've been jumpy," Monique said
quietly.
He shrugged, and then left them again. He sighed, and paced into the
kitchen drawing a glass of water. Even the water tasted more
fresh and clean, here. He didn't know if it was the timeline, or
simply the Mansion that provided the clarity in the water. He
fancied he could hear the girls crying out in the wine cellar, but
it was purely fantasy. They weren't screaming -- the girls were far
too intelligent for that -- what would be the point?
He set the glass back down onto the counter, and paced upstairs, his
feet heavy on the staircase. He glanced into the bathroom, expecting
one of the girls to be there, naked and wet, but of course, he knew
where all the girls were. Safe, for now.
He continued down the hallway, past the master bedroom, where Nicole
had recovered. He hesitated at her bedroom door, in some ways
wanting to go in and in others not wanting to see what lay within.
He was being silly, but when he pushed open the door with a creak,
he found it difficult to push his feet back into motion.
With a shake of his head, he stepped over the threshold, and glanced
around the room. It hadn't changed from the time when he had left it
last, after talking to the animal that remained here, letting him
know, even as he knew the man would never remember, what would be
his fate. He shrugged, then shivered as his eyes were drawn to
Maurice.
Maurice stood, frozen and sightlessly staring forward, his hand
drawing down his zipper, about to offer his penis to the girl that
no longer knelt there.
He closed his eyes. Oh, but she would. Too soon.
He turned, his eyes still closed, until he felt that he was safe.
When he opened his eyes, he was faced towards Nicole's spartan
single bed, where she slept, when the animal allowed it. He paced
over to where she slept, feeling like a burglar.
He would have asked Nicole to come here, but he couldn't send her in
here again -- not with Maurice standing there still, his hand where
she would be, far too soon.
He knelt and pulled open her dresser drawer. In the first one, he
sighed. Nipple clamps. A vibrator that looked far too large for her
small frame. Handcuffs. Ropes. And something that even he couldn't
identify, but looked like it might be meant to clamp a clitoris. He
shivered, and pushed the items aside. Underneath, a pair of pink
panties shone. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that they
lacked a crotch, and suddenly his surprise melted. They weren't
hers, at least not in a classic sense.
He shut the drawer with a bang, and pulled out the next one. Girl's
clothing, mostly leather and chains adorned the bottom of the
drawer. He sighed. Perhaps, this search was useless. Nicole wouldn't
be allowed personal items.
He nearly rose, but then returned and opened the last drawer. It
slid out, as though it were greased. Inside, magazines lay, some
bondage, some simple sex magazines, Penthouse, Playboy, Gent. He
lifted them, ignoring the gaping women adorning them, only mildly
glancing at the cover of the bondage magazine featuring a nurse tied
to a hospital bed.
Underneath the magazines, hidden, lay the object for which he'd been
looking. A vision, not as clear as Dawn's, but passable, showed her
lying in her bed, crying, clutching the object to her bare breasts,
a talisman of childhood. He smiled, and hooked his finger under the
rim, pulling it from the base of the drawer.
A teddy bear, Maurice would have torn the stuffing from, a favourite
doll, hung by her porcelain neck from the ceiling, perhaps
disfigured, and dismembered for good measure. No, this object
screamed out the simple pleasures of childhood, comforting and
reminiscent. And Maurice would never suspect it.
The Frisbee was worn, white, and had an unreadable corporate logo
imprinted on it. Her name, inscribed in childish script in black
marker, "Nicole", and her phone number, was written on the
underside. He twirled it on his finger as he passed Maurice. He was
tempted to wake the animal, if only to tell him one thing. Instead,
he opted to merely pause at the door, gazing into the room. He
stopped whirling the Frisbee, holding it out towards the animal.
"She beat you, and you didn't even know it," he whispered.
Then he stepped out, and pulled the door shut with a conclusive
click.
Smiling, he walked back down to the living room.
<---===***===--->
He sat with his back against the elm tree, half-watching the girls
as they played, and half watching the dragon in the sky.
Nicole stood in one corner of a triangle, smiling. She lightly held
her injured side, breathing hard. Andrea and Monique completed the
triangle in the grass. The Frisbee sailed unerringly between the
girls, each reaching, and sometimes diving to catch the simple toy
as it reflected the sunlight.
He sighed and closed his eyes, listening to them yell and toss. A
squirrel, annoyed, chittered at the girls as they romped through its
lawn. For a while, he thought, the girls had forgotten chains, and
nudity, and pain, and fright, and were simply girls again -- a time
that was safe, and peaceful, tossing a Frisbee across an expanse of
lawn.
It had to end -- this was the beginning of the end.
If he were truthful to himself, it was beyond the beginning,
somewhere in the midrange of the endgame. Ever since Dawn had
stepped from the escalator, the end was hurtling towards him like a
frieght train. The girls, some of them, would be happy, he supposed.
He looked around at his universe.
The blackouts hadn't been a problem this time, the simulations at
least being accurate in that. It was deliciously ironic. He'd
planned everything down the last molecule, adjusting parameters,
adjusting equations, adjusting occult. And a girl nearly gets raped,
and poof, the universe continued to laugh at him.
He could continue. The girl was under his control -- locked in a
windowless cellar, naked and probably frightened. He could sense
Kate and Leigh there with her, close, but not her. There was a vague
feeling of absence where she was, but nothing concrete. So he could
continue.
But the dangers? Morally, he couldn't continue -- not with Dawn here
and understanding and remembering. The fine line between worlds was
blurring. Dawn represented consequence. The fundamental difference
between fantasy and reality. Impossible, now, to deny it. Doing
this, with the girls, wasn't an option any longer, was it? It was
the beginning of the end.
The universe wasn't like a light switch anymore, hadn't been since
the beginning. He could control local points, prevent all but Dawn
from escaping through time control, but what of Dawn? Somehow, she'd
been incorporated into the time fabric. He didn't understand, but
she was better attuned to the time universe, could sense that fourth
dimension, could see. He was certain of that, as much as he was
certain that he couldn't.
Worse, he was sure that the universe had swallowed them both,
pushing reality into the depths of both their minds. She was like a
sister, or a lover, without the intimacy, but with all the
closeness. They were joined. What one created, the other had to
destroy. And she didn't even know it.
He sighed.
He'd tickled the equations in his mind, many, many times. The
universe unfolded around him, but his control, only an illusion. If
one couldn't re-start the universe, what hold did he truly hold.
He closed his eyes again, seeing her sitting across from him in the
grass, quietly accepting his control of her, but not. She sat, her
bare legs extended, her hands trapped behind her. The irony, she had
more control that he did. She was stronger. Weak, she thought, but
he knew better.
He could sense her in the darkness, she was talking, but he didn't
know about what.
Monique laughed, her voice carrying like a child's. He glanced up as
she pushed herself up off the ground, brushing blades of grass from
her bare breasts unselfconsciously.
"Nice throw," Andrea called as she jumped up, arms extended, unaware
of the beautiful lines her body made as she did.
Nicole laughed helplessly, even as the pain of her chest complained
across her fair, if marred, features.
It was the beginning of the end.
He was going to miss this place, perhaps even more than he'd missed
Christi and Jane and the others from another place and another time
out of time.
He swallowed, and glanced up at the sky. In front of the dragon, a
puff of cloud sat. It looked like a girl, her legs crossed in front
of her, a hint of a breast. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, and
sighed. The dragon seemed to be chasing the girl, closing in for the
kill.
The Frisbee landed near his right foot, bouncing to rest against his
running shoe. He looked at it for a moment, Nicole's childhood toy,
giving her comfort at night when she could, taking the place of a
child's stuffed teddy bear.
He glanced up as he picked up the disc. The girls watched him
warily, Monique fidgeting with her fingers. He smiled, and flicked
his wrist. It flew straight and true. Nicole reached out with her
right hand, her left pressed into her injured ribs. Her fingers
closed on the spinning object, and she smiled.
Timidly, she called out.
"Do you want to play with us?"
He smiled and shook his head. Almost disappointed, she turned, and
tossed the Frisbee towards Andrea. Monique stopped her fidgeting and
with a puzzled glance at him, turned back to the other naked girls.
"No, I think I've played enough," he said in a whisper.
The clouds chased each other high above, and he leaned his head back
watching the dragon. High above, the dragon still hadn't caught the
girl in the grass. Below, the girls' shouts reached his ears, and he
almost believed that the universe was normal again.
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