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Chapter 141
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"I really don't mind," Kate's voice emerged from the direction of
Dawn's hand, "and you can keep your fingers there if you like, but
that's my breast and nipple you're touching."
Disoriented in the blackness, Dawn snatched her hand back. A blush,
though nobody could see it, rose into her face. She didn't know
why, she'd touched Kate's bare breasts before when she was forced to
untie them, but she was thoroughly embarrassed by the inadvertent
contact.
"I thought it was your cheek. I'm so sorry," she mumbled.
Kate laughed, and a tickling sensation touched her hand. A moment
later, what she presumed was Kate's fingers closed about her hand,
and she drew forward until her hand touched something familiar and
soft again.
"Kate ..."
"It's all right, Dawn. It's only my skin. See?"
Dawn couldn't see, and she nodded before she realised that Kate and
Leigh couldn't see her any more than she could see them. A swollen
bump pressed heavily into her palm.
"Kate ..."
"It's not like you haven't touched me before."
"Not like this." She tried to pull her hand way, but Kate's fingers
held her there, hand on Kate's breast.
"Hmmmm. No. Not like this. It's only skin, Dawn. It feels nice to
have human contact, rather than ropes. Less embarrassed now?"
Dawn nodded, and Kate must have felt it that time.
Kate released her hand, and Dawn forced herself to linger there for
a second, then pulled her hand back to brush at her own thigh.
Feeling foolish, she asked, "Do you want to touch mine?"
Kate laughed. "Sure, as long as we're in the dungeon, we might as
well be friends."
Dawn reached forward, and finally found Kate's hand again, waving
through the darkness. She pulled Kate forward, and touched her
breast to Kate's hand. Kate's fingers made no attempt at groping,
but only rested against her skin warm, and fluid. After a moment,
Kate pulled her hand back. Kate called into the darkness.
"Leigh? You want to touch, too?"
Leigh's voice came from the direction that Dawn remembered was the
stairs.
"Leave me out of your sick games," Leigh called, but there was a
lightness to her voice, almost a longing.
Dawn could sense the underlying currents of denied sexuality. She
hesitated, but then forced her lips to form the words. She'd done
it with Linda, and her body screamed out for satisfaction. It was
dark, and lonely.
"Do you want ..." she began. She couldn't force her mouth to
continue the statement. Suddenly, she truly regretted not climaxing
when he'd forced her to 'jill off' in front of everyone. Her breasts
ached, and her clitoris fairly quivered.
Kate laughed gently. "More than anything in the world. But we can't,
Dawn."
"Nobody needs to know," Dawn said easily. Her mind whirled in a
haze. Was she actually suggesting what she thought she was?
"He'll know."
"He's got you that far under his control?"
Kate sighed, and moved towards the stair. After a moment, Dawn
followed the sounds of her shuffling feet. The earth shifted beneath
her toes as she moved.
"I've seen him punish women for disobeying. But thanks for the
offer."
Above, she could hear Leigh moving. A shadow moved across the dim
light filtering under the door.
She heard Kate climb a few stairs and settle. Dawn nearly sat on the
ground, but then realised that she didn't really want to sit in the
dirt. She found the last stair, and lowered herself down, drawing
her legs up. The roughness of the planking scratched her behind, and
thighs, but it was better than sitting in dirt.
Leigh descended again, bumping into Kate with an expression of
surprise.
"No light switch," she reported. "At least none that I could find."
Upstairs, the house had gone silent, like the rest of the world. Not
even the slow vibration of his feet as he moved through the house
transmitted into the cellar.
"Do you think he'll come back?" Dawn asked.
"If you were a guy, would you leave Kate here, naked, wasted in a
dark cellar?" Leigh asked with a hint of a smile.
"I suppose not. Why did he put us here?"
"He thinks you're dangerous. And he's probably testing us."
"Testing us?"
"Finding out if we're afraid of the dark?"
"Are you?"
"A little," Leigh muttered.
Dawn didn't say anything further, shifting her weight. Time passed,
stretching out into the void. After a while, she pushed herself up,
and Kate sensed her movement.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"Try the door."
"It's locked," Leigh said wearily. An edge of nearly panic had crept
into her controlled voice.
Ignoring them, Dawn groped forward, stepping over Kate, and nearly
tripping on Leigh's legs. The softness of Leigh's skin drove more
tendrils of desire into Dawn's body, but she tried to ignore it, and
crept up the stairs using her hands as well as her feet.
The crack beneath the door didn't reveal anything though when she
looked away, bright dots of colour sparkled across her vision.
He found the handle and twisted it. It turned easily, sending
shivers into her heart. The door began to open, perhaps a
millimetre, then struck whatever held it closed and refused to
budge, or even admit more light.
"Dammit," Dawn whispered. "Maybe we can break it down."
"I doubt it," Kate called from the foot of the stairs.
Dawn grit her teeth and pressed her bare shoulder into the wood. It
worked in movies, didn't it?
She drove her shoulder into the door near the handle and gasped and
cried out in pain. Her shoulder felt like it was on fire, echoing
the hot pain still glowing in her breasts.
"Shit," she hissed. Slowly, she lowered herself to the top step,
extending her legs and massaging her shoulder. She'd probably sport
a bruise there for a week. Tears fell down her cheek, burning a path
to her jaw.
She started when fingers touched her arm.
"Hey, we'll survive this," Leigh's voice came more steadily than
before.
"Why? Why us?"
"I don't know. I really don't," Leigh whispered.
"Why do we have to suffer in the dark when he's out doing God knows
what with the others?"
"He's not hurting them. He got all that out on your breasts, and
Kate's, I think."
Dawn managed to control the tears, wiping at her cheeks and nose
savagely with her forearm. She sensed Kate slowly following the
girls to the top of the stairs. Dawn held her face in her hands, and
then glanced up. The thin silver of light from beneath the door
illuminated Kate's face beside Leigh's. The two girls were watching
her warily and with a deep look of concern.
<---===***===--->
"We have to escape," Dawn said slowly. The girls had each taken a
stair, Kate cursing lightly as she picked at a sliver with her
nails.
"You can control time, can't you?" Leigh asked.
"Sometimes," Dawn admitted. Her concentration was completely shot,
her body aching, her nudity in this darkness, knowing that Leigh and
Kate were only a few short metres away driving undeniable bolts of
electricity into her nerves. She couldn't have unfrozen the door,
even if he'd left it unlocked. Not without ... and she didn't want
to do that. Not here. Not with Kate and Leigh, her moment of sexual
weakness slowly ebbing away, replaced with a new resolve of
abstinence.
After a moment, Leigh sighed.
"We can't, Dawn. We can't risk it."
"Why not?"
"Because if we try, even if you were able to help, and we failed.
He'd skin us alive -- or he'd skin someone in front of us."
"Or he'd tape cigarettes to Monique, or he'd tie Andrea's toes to
her breasts, maybe whip her for good measure. He wouldn't punish us
-- he'd punish someone we cared about."
Dawn sighed, knowing exactly what Leigh and Kate were talking about.
After all, she'd experienced it first hand, stepping out from behind
an escalator, Kate's screams echoing in her ears. And she didn't
even know Kate. Well, not really.
Dawn sensed something rushing towards her like a freight train. Her
heart hammered, and her belly clenched.
She stared off into the blackness. Deep in the darkness of the
cellar she could see a cotton dragon, chasing a girl sitting
cross-legged in the grass.
The dragon rose up, its shouts rattling the earth itself. Crimson
scales dripped blood from its hide.
"I am Goliath."
Dawn shivered, standing before it. She was naked, her arms
handcuffed behind her. She looked up, her eyes welling with tears.
She didn't have so much as a puny slingshot. She didn't have
anything -- not even her jeans to protect her from the flames of its
maw.
The dragon regarded her, almost like one might regard an ant before
stepping upon it, flushing its life from the very fabric of the
universe. The creature raised its head, and laughed, the earth
shaking as it did. Dawn stumbled and fell to one knee, unmindful of
the exposure that afforded her. The dragon didn't care. The dragon
only wanted her for one reason. To watch her die.
Wearily, she lifted her head, her hair tickling her bare shoulders.
"I don't want to be here," she whispered.
(But I am.)
"It has to end."
(I am the key.)
She pushed herself to her feet, her eyes blazing. The dragon
laughed again, though even its expression changed, its animalistic
visage reflecting doubt for one so small, and helpless, and
vulnerable to stand before it. Dawn willed the shaking from her
limbs, though fright numbed her.
(I don't want to be here.)
"I am David," she whispered. "Dawn, and David."
<---===***===--->
She blinked. The darkness remained, but the dragon had vanished. Her
hands weren't bound, but she remained naked, of course. Kate and
Leigh seemed unaware of her vision, and she silently thanked anyone
who would listen that she hadn't mumbled anything. Otherwise, they
might have thought her crazy. Perhaps, she was.
"What if we did this all together?" she whispered.
Chapter 142
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
When the door unexpectedly swung open, light stabbed into her eyes.
She stifled a moan, raising her hands to her eyes. Bright red blobs
drifted across her vision, and she blinked behind the shield of her
hands. Below her, Kate and Leigh cried out, but didn't otherwise
react.
The sudden vision of their nudity drove yet more desires into her.
Damn him. They'd been alone, in the dark, unfettered for hours, and
not one had found the courage to play with herself. Fingers, toes,
thighs, breasts, lips, and tongues. Dawn shivered. She wanted -- no
needed -- wanted to climax. She ached with the desire of it.
Slowly, she pushed herself up and still blinking, stepped from her
prison. After a moment, the other two girls joined her, flanking her
like lieutenants.
He turned his back on the girls, and without explanation walked
towards the kitchen.
(Take him now?)
(The other girls, Dawn. The other girls.)
Dawn sighed, and found herself following him, one bare foot in front
of the other until the relative comfort of the living room appeared
in front of her eyes. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the bright
sunlight, and she settled into the easy chair. Kate and Leigh
dropped wearily into the sofa, stretching out and flexing aching
limbs. Their legs entangled easily, familiarly. Idly, she wondered
what Kate and Leigh had been through together, and if they had found
comfort with one another.
"Where is Nicole?" Dawn asked. To her, it sounded like she was
overly interested, and she cursed herself for asking.
He answered breezily.
"Playing Frisbee. Monique's cooking dinner."
"I don't have to?" Leigh asked.
The Timeman shifted his gaze to Leigh, and grinned.
"Monique offered."
(Frisbee?)
Dawn groaned and picked up the headphones that Leigh had been using
earlier. She offered them first to Leigh, but Leigh had settled in
the opposite sofa, leaning her head back tiredly against the arm of
the sofa. Kate glanced at Leigh, and a look passed between them.
Kate's hand rested unselfconsciously on Leigh's bare foot, fingers
playing with Leigh's toes. Dawn slipped the headphones over her
ears, and found the remote.
Surprised, expecting more modern pop music, Bach filled her ears.
Dawn smiled, and closed her eyes, mimicking Leigh.
She expected a chain to be attached to her ankle, but when she
peered through her eyelashes for a moment, the Timeman had
disappeared, leaving the girls free and unchained for once. Perhaps,
he was beginning to trust her. Or maybe, it simply didn't matter
any longer.
It felt like heaven, her body free of steel and ropes; Dawn closed
her eyes again, and let the music take her away from dragons, and
handcuffs, and whips.
<---===***===--->
Kate set his plate on the table, and then with a look of apology,
set the other six plates on the tiles, one in front of each kneeling
girl. Dawn glanced around the small circle, and sensed differing
levels of humiliation as the girls realised that tonight, they
wouldn't even be allowed to sit with their captor like human beings.
They would eat from the floor like household pets.
Kate knelt in the last spot in the circle, watching the Timeman
expectantly.
Dawn's stomach growled; it had been a long time since she'd eaten,
and she didn't particularly care if she ate away from the Timeman,
even from a plate on the floor.
On her plate lay a hamburger, and two pickles with a side of potato
chips. Her stomach grumbled, begging for the food to pass down her
throat, nourish her, as if it were aware that she'd need her energy
later.
She reached for the bun, but Kate quickly shook her head, her red
locks floating about her head. Dawn sighed, sensing that the girls
all were waiting for permission to eat. It grated on her nerves, the
control he had over them, but she supposed it was control or pain.
She had chosen the same path as they. It would change soon, she
hoped, but the results, she knew, were far from destined in her
favour. As it was, her breasts still ached, her nipples erect and
sore.
"May we eat, sir?" Kate asked, almost breathlessly.
"Of course. I never asked you girls to do that."
(Yes, you did. Even if you didn't do it explicitly.)
The girls all fell into motion, picking up the food with their
fingers and eating. Andrea, alone, didn't pick up her hamburger, but
did nibble on the pickles.
Dawn looked over at the blonde girl, and Andrea smiled.
"I'm vegetarian, he forgets most of the time. And complaining
generally isn't a good idea around here, I've noticed."
He glanced over, and grimaced, but then returned to his food with
relish.
"See. We're just animals to him, I think," Andrea whispered.
Dawn nodded, though she wasn't sure of that. She suspected that she
was on the floor with the others not as an object but for a
different reason -- one that she might never fathom. Quickly, she
glanced at him, moved her pickles and chips to Andrea's plate.
Andrea smiled.
"Thank you," she whispered.
<---===***===--->
It was cheese sauce, and it stuck to her bare skin like ugly,
foul-smelling syrup. Dawn felt tears rise to her eyes before she
could stop them.
Her hands interlaced behind her neck, and she tried to control her
breathing. Kate, Leigh, Nicole, and Andrea knelt quietly, their
hands bound behind them, their eyes wet with tears.
Monique knelt in front of Dawn, free. The girl turned to face the
Timeman who towered above her, clothed in contrast to the girl's
nakedness.
"She's new here, please don't do this to her."
"You're going to do this to her."
It seemed to snap something in Monique, and the former lawyer pushed
herself to her feet. She stood, and glared at him. He smiled.
"She's a human being, not a fucking dog."
"Monique, no," Kate whispered. Monique ignored her.
"Would you like to take her place."
"Yes."
"No," Dawn whispered. She didn't want the results of her
disobedience, but knew the risks -- she'd pay the costs -- if a
little cheese sauce spread on her skin was the price, she'd let
Monique smear whatever was necessary to end this. Monique shouldn't
pay for her mistakes.
He merely smiled at Monique. For a moment, Dawn thought that the
woman was going to swing at him. She closed her eyes waiting for the
hit. It didn't come.
"She's a human-fucking-being. She's not a toy. She's not a fucking
dog. Asking her to bark is like asking a real dog to meow. You
fucking prick faced bastard. None of us should have to bark like a
fucking dog for you."
"Monique," he said calmly. Tears has begun to form in Monique's
eyes.
"Monique, no. Oh God, no," Kate whispered.
Monique stared at him. She didn't even try to defend herself as his
hand descended. It struck her cheek lightly, and she only moaned a
little. Dawn closed her eyes, and pushed herself to her feet.
"Don't hurt her, I'll do what you want. I'll bark, if you want me to
bark," she said. Her heart clenched, and she forced it to calm.
He turned to Dawn, and growled. "Back down on your knees. Too late
for that, now. Unless you want me to slap her again."
Dawn fell back to her knees, and slowly raised her hands back behind
her neck. She shivered, hoping that he'd let the girl go, let her
finish. The last thing she needed was a confrontation, not now, not
when she was so close. Let him do what he wanted, and then Goliath
would meet Dawn.
She looked up, confused, her thoughts had borne her from this latest
humiliation, unaware while Monique paid the price. Monique posed on
her hands and knees, her head lifted to watch her captor, her bottom
uplifted as if expecting a series of spanks, or perhaps sex from
behind. Tears ran down her face.
Dawn closed her eyes, not wanting to see this. It was her fault.
Should have been her doing this. Instead, Monique bore her shame,
and she couldn't watch. Couldn't watch.
Dawn's stomach turned as Monique's feminine tones approximated a
bark. Once, twice, three times. God, the girl had done it.
Dawn swallowed.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. But she wasn't even sure if Monique
had heard.
Feminine hands touched her, starting with her breasts, and moving
over her shoulders, and down her thighs. Dawn struggled to hold
herself still, to keep her eyes closed, and her hands from pushing
the probing hands from her skin. Even with the disgust factor, she
had to fight down a moan of sexual desire. Monique's fingers
slipped over her skin, caressing, lovingly.
Cheese sauce -- probably Cheese Whiz, or some generic brand, pungent
and sticky, spread over her skin like an overgrown cracker from
hell. He'd have hurt Monique more, if Dawn protested, so she kept
her mouth shut, and her eyes shut, too.
(God, over soon. Over soon, I hope. I pray.)
The gunk slipped into her hair, and coated her face. She couldn't
open her eyes, even if she wanted to.
She could still sense the audience, not daring to look away.
Finally, only after Monique had worked the substance under her
breasts, and over her swollen and aching nipples, did he bark out a
single command.
"Enough."
Monique's hands left her, and where she'd been touched felt void.
She continued to kneel there, her skin and nose crying out with the
indignity. She had no idea how long she knelt there in the middle of
the kitchen floor, but Kate and Leigh had cleared and washed the
dishes. The Timeman left and returned before she was allowed to
break pose.
Tears ran through the food coating her face, but she dared not
clear.
"Lick her, Monique," he said.
Dawn steeled herself again.
She hated it, hated her body even more as it reacted to the
stimulation, but Monique's tongue felt wonderful as the crying girl
removed at least some of the cheese.
<---===***===--->
"I'm sorry," Dawn whispered as she stumbled up the stairs with
Monique. Monique smiled, incredibly, and held out her hands, careful
not to touch the walls or bannister. Her fingers were coated with
orange cheese, under the fingernails, and across her knuckles.
Monique stopped, one foot on a stair, and the other raised onto the
next.
"Dawn, you don't get it, do you?"
"I'm sorry. I should have barked for him, no matter how much it
seemed wrong."
Monique laughed. "It was kind of silly. I hated it, but you know
what? So I barked like a dog for him. Nobody will ever know."
(I will.)
Dawn shook her head, and stepped up two more stairs. Monique didn't
follow.
"He would have covered you with cheese no matter what, you know. You
could have barked, you could have done everything he wanted, and
then some. You could have given him deep throat while humming the
national anthem, and he would still have forced me to do that to
you."
Dawn thought about it, then nodded. Yes, she knew that, somewhere in
her being. It wasn't what she hadn't done, but rather what he wanted
to do. She didn't understand why he'd want her covered in smelly
cheese, but then she did.
"Control," she whispered.
Monique grinned. Cheese surrounded her mouth.
"But it doesn't work as well with you. It's different."
(Oh. It worked. I'd bark next time. I should have barked this time.)
Dawn shrugged a little, and tried to breathe through her mouth.
Monique nearly ran up the remaining stairs, passing Dawn with a
flurry of raw skin. Dawn closed her eyes, and tried to ignore
Monique's gently bobbing breasts as she ran. Monique seemed to be
oblivious of her body.
"Come on, let's shower. We're not allowed to wash ourselves,
though."
"What?"
Monique grinned, and pushed open the bathroom door. More sedately,
Dawn followed. Puzzled.
<---===***===--->
Her skin glowed, the food washed down the drain as Monique's fingers
massaged the cheese out as effectively as she had applied it under
his orders. Dawn had never showered with another woman, and this
shower had happened silently, Monique only moaning a little as
Dawn's fingers moved over her slippery skin.
One easy thing, no clothing to worry about afterward.
She stepped from the bathroom, steam billowing from her.
She waited against the wooden rail, butterflies rising into her
throat. She could hear faint murmurs, feminine voices rising up from
the living room below. She hoped that he'd at least released the
girl's hands. It wouldn't make all that much difference she
supposed, but it might make things easier if the girls were free.
Monique stepped from the bathroom, her skin soft and glowing,
slightly reddened from the heat.
"You ready?" Dawn asked as Monique emerged.
Monique smiled, and held out her hand. She hadn't told the naked
girl what she had planned, couldn't really. But Monique seemed to
sense something up, attuned naturally perhaps to Dawn's nervousness.
It happened when one was close to another, as Dawn had become almost
painfully aware of each of the girls individual pains and
accomplishments. Kate. Leigh. Andrea. Monique. Nicole.
Dawn took Monique's fingers in her own, and set her foot to the
first stair.
"I'm ready," Monique said easily, following a pace behind.
(Are you ready, Monique? Because I'm sure as hell not.)
Chapter 143
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
She stood alone, near the archway. A painfully accurate vision
crossed her mind like a gentle wave. Small, and helpless, her body
bare, completely, her heart racing in her throat. Her fingers
clenched and unclenched rhythmically at her side, and she struggled
to control her breathing.
He glanced up from his chair, a book open on his lap. He ignored her
presence, dismissing her like one would brush away a mosquito.
Dimly, she was aware of Monique as she released her hand. The naked
girl padded over to the sofa, sinking to the floor beside Andrea,
her arms brushing at Kate and Leigh above, their legs extended.
Nicole lay on her side, under Andrea's extended leg, her head
propped on her hand. It reminded Dawn of the family pictures that
were the custom when she was younger, everyone shouting as the
little flags emerged from the camera moments before the ...
<---===***===--->
FLASH.
The beast towered above her, menacing, as large as a skyscraper.
Steam, and perhaps brimstone wafted from its mouth, teeth like
daggers.
And it bellowed, head upturned to the moon shining above.
(Moon?)
The sound of its vocalisation shook the earth, trembles rising from
the soles of her feet, up through her legs, to tickle her nipples in
a cacophony of arousal. She moaned, her voice merging with the
dragon's, inflating into a howl of lost dreams.
Its scales dripped blood to the packed earth upon which it stood,
soaking the brown in a sea of red.
(My blood. My blood.)
A great pounding rose up in her ears, and she had to will her hands
from rising from her sides, refusing to acknowledge her own fear.
Her heart pounded in the same rhythm against her ribs, threatening
to escape, adding to the red seeping towards her feet.
The creature lowered its head, the sharp tang of brimstone, and dry
heat engulfing her naked skin. She shivered, but refused to step
back. The creature looked at her curiously, a single green eye
regarding her face. Not her breasts. Her face.
(Never argue with dragons. For you are crunchy, and taste good
with ketchup.)
She fought a giggle, and shook her head. Each tendril of her hair
tickled her bare shoulders as her head moved.
(Eat me. Eat me, not. Eat me. Eat me, not.)
(It is not whether you win, only whether you play the game.)
She shivered. It was whether she won, or lost, and it all came down
to five frightened girls, and one who might or might not be able to
control the universe around her.
The dragon breathed again, and she closed her eyes. If it chose to,
it would crisp her like yesterday's toast. Instead, gentle warmth
flowed over her skin. Her breasts ached. Her vagina screamed at her.
She couldn't concentrate.
The dragon laughed at her, and the ground shook.
(I have to be David.)
(But I don't have a slingshot.)
(I'm not David.)
(He's not Goliath.)
She lifted her face, and opened her eyes. The dragon regarded her.
"I am Dawn," she screamed.
The dragon opened its mouth, and ...
<---===***===--->
FLASH.
He sat watching her, his eyes now intent, as if he sensed what she
saw. She shivered, suddenly cold. She desperately wanted her
clothing, facing this man naked and small seemed foolish. But this
is where she was meant to be.
Choices? What choices?
She wrapped her arms around her, opened her mouth. She wished that
she could simply spout flames, like a napalm bomb from her throat.
But that would destroy her, too, wouldn't it?
Her voice would have cracked, she was sure. Her lips closed, and she
closed her eyes for a moment. She sensed the time bubbles around
her, opened her mind to the time haze as it swirled around her,
comforting and close like a heavy blanket in winter.
"What will it take to let them all go?" she whispered. Her voice cut
through the room, even at a whisper, like a sneeze during a
symphony.
Even as she said it, she knew the answer. She had nothing. Nothing
that he couldn't take, as he'd taken her clothing. Not her
obedience, not her body, not her freedom, not her pride. She stood
before him, naked, and alone, frightened and only a college girl,
way, way out of her element.
(Why me? Lord, why me?)
She lifted her head, her eyes capturing his. The book in his lap, a
coffee table book on bridges, slipped soundlessly to the floor.
The girls to her right faded, the living room, the stereo, the
walls, the ceiling, the floors, all faded with them. Only she, and
the Timeman, existed, pink and purple haze drifting between them.
She knew his answer before he could say anything. Even so, he was
gentle.
"Dawn, you don't have anything to offer," he said, his voice almost
hypnotic.
Tears ran down her face, and she nodded.
"I know," she said.
Slowly, she stepped towards the other girls, moving her naked body
between them, and the Timeman.
<---===***===--->
"Dawn, you don't want to do this," he said slowly, carefully.
She could sense the girls behind her, restless, unsure of exactly
what was happening. She wanted to reassure them, to hug them all,
tell them all it was going to be fine, but she couldn't tear her
eyes from his. She felt like a snake, rising up, captured by the
charmer's eyes.
Purple, pink, crimson, blue haze swirled around her, embracing her,
gathering to her.
At last she closed her eyes, breaking their connection. She
shivered, still sensing his eyes on her, his tennis ball looming,
spinning, as large as a planet, as large as a star, so much larger
than hers.
She trembled, and her voice emerged quietly, almost apologetically,
though she didn't know who she was apologising to: him, the girls,
or herself.
"I have to do this," she whispered.
After a moment, she sensed him stand. The girls behind her fell
silent, awed. She opened her eyes, and he filled her vision, clouds
of haze blurring her sight.
"I know, you do, and I'm sorry," he said.
<---===***===--->
A bright flash extended from him, only visible to her eyes, hurtling
like a spear towards her heart. She watched it, as it tumbled
towards her, and she reached out with her hand, grasping at it.
(It will burn me. Oh God, it will burn me.)
She screamed as her fingers intersected with it, time clashing in a
reaction like matter kissing anti-matter. Blinded, she screamed
again, her hand tingling, crying out in agony. And then it was done,
her heart banging behind her ribs. When she opened her eyes again,
she was surprised that she had fallen to one knee, perspiration
dripping from her damp, clean hair.
She pushed herself up with a gasp. Dimly, she could hear Kate
crying, asking her if she was all right. Her breasts ached,
insistent, robbing her of concentration. She swallowed once, but
revelled in his surprised look as she regained her bare feet and
stood, facing him again.
Without warning, another bolt rushed towards her through the haze,
and this time, unthinking, she twisted to the side, the girls
shifting into her vision. The bolt slid past her with a kiss of heat
near her belly. Her eyes widened as it passed her and hurtled
towards Monique, bending downwards, striking her in the shoulder.
Monique's eyes lifted in a moment of surprise before the pain hit
her. It would last but a moment, but the girl didn't know that, and
Dawn couldn't warn her.
Her scream rose as the other girls looked on in bewilderment.
A groan escaped Dawn's lips as she turned to face him again.
"Had enough?" he asked. "I don't want to hurt you. I just need you
to listen to me."
"Listen? Or whip me?" Dawn gasped.
With that, she gathered the haze around her, though she had no idea
of how she did, and thrust it towards him, the bolt of lightning
glowing crimson red for a moment.
<---===***===--->
He laughed, and like a hiker flicking at an annoying deer fly,
shunted her attack aside. As the bolt flew outwards, without target,
Dawn groaned again, her breasts on fire, the previous whipping
settling into her core.
She lifted her head, and he smiled.
She didn't know if she could throw another one. The first had
drained her, her mind numbing, even as her body awakened, throbbing.
Another blazing bolt flew though the air towards her naked skin, and
she screamed, her fingers resisting. She had learned, however, and
she grasped the bolt, absorbing the pain into her body. Another
scream left her lips, echoing around the living room.
<---===***===--->
All the girls were screaming, fire licking at their bodies. Dawn
absorbed what she could, but the bolts flew now at a rate that she
couldn't hope to keep up with. Some struck Kate, some Leigh, some
Andrea, some Monique. It was those that fell to kiss Nicole, that
elicited the worst screams.
And then it became quiet, the girl's moans falling into the
distance, as if she'd moved a million miles from the living room
where her body ached -- her fingers burned, and her sex pulsed in
unsatisfied arousal.
Here, it was quiet, and only he existed.
She felt it then, her mind and body weakened by the earlier assault.
She couldn't stop him, anymore than she could free Mark, or Jeanine,
where this all began. She wasn't strong enough.
His bubble touched hers, and she felt him, close and intimate. It
felt like his fingers probed into her, thrusting deep, finding her
secrets. Raping her.
She screamed, his control over time polished and sure, hers unstable,
and weak. She felt her bubble collapsing, closer to her skin,
embracing her like a second skin, her body trembling.
Chapter 144
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"No!"
Her voice seemed to float from far away, somewhere in a universe
that felt more real than this pain induced fantasy. Her breasts
cried out for a touch, any touch. Her clitoris drove needles of
desire into her marrow.
"No," she whispered.
She pushed with the last of her strength. She felt it give,
expanding from her, pushing his strength back. David chucking a
stupid little stone at Goliath.
She opened her eyes. His face wore an expression of surprise, and he
physically stepped back, towards his chair. She could feel him
straining to overcome her, smothering her, perspiration dotting his
brow.
His thoughts echoed into her mind, a mixture of deep arousal, and
control, and they added to her own body's betrayal, and heard
herself moan. But her strength remained, somehow, and she pushed the
bubble outward.
Her limbs exploded in agony, and she screamed. No bolts had hit
her, no fire had been lit under her feet. But the sensations flowed
from her bare feet, up her calves.
(No. Please, no.)
She didn't understand it. It wasn't the Timeman, but rather the
interaction of the time bubbles. She sensed that he felt the pain,
too, but to a lesser extent. She steeled herself for the worst, and
it came to her, rising from her thighs like an obscene snake,
biting, tearing at her clitoris. It sang out, drilling into her
mind. Her bubble slipped when that pain hit her, and she gasped.
But as her bubble contracted, the pain lessened.
She grit her teeth.
(I'm stronger than him. I may be naked, but I'm stronger.)
A sense of elation filled her, and the bubble expanded again. Her
legs filled with the pain, but she pushed through the haze of pain
in her mind, and pushed. Pushed. Pushed.
Until Kate began to scream.
<---===***===--->
Kate's voice descended into her ears like a knife, and she stopped,
her mind holding the strained equilibrium between his bubble and
hers.
"Please, no," Kate screamed. The others began to moan, Leigh's hands
rose to her breasts, as if batting away invisible insects. None of
them seemed to know where they were, but they were clearly feeling
the same fire that engulfed Dawn's skin, somehow transferring from
her, unto them.
"What's happening to them," Dawn whispered. Her voice cut through
the moaning and screaming behind her, rushing through another
dimension to reach him.
She felt him cease pushing against her, but she didn't press
forward, finding her balance. Her limbs tingled in agony.
"They're feeling what you are, little one."
"What I am?"
"And what I am," he said, his voice calm, if weary.
"Pain," she said dully.
He nodded, confirming the obvious. She watched Kate for a moment.
The girl had thrust her hands between her legs, moaning, but it
wasn't sexual, but rather in a childish attempt to ward off pain --
the same pain that Dawn felt encroaching from her vaginal canal,
from her thighs. Even her fingernails hurt.
She turned back towards him.
"It's not about them. It's about me. Why are you hurting them?"
"I'm not," he answered. "I feel it, too. This can't happen without
pain. And you know that, little one."
She shivered.
"We need to talk."
"You'll hurt me."
"You're hurting them all," he said. Weary, his voice almost seemed
weakened by the carnage. The universe screamed around them.
Dawn pushed herself to her feet, wavering. If she fell, that would
be the end. She groaned. Kate screamed again, her voice mindless,
beyond that of the memory of her voice while he used the whip
against her bound breasts. Much worse. Dawn wasn't even sure that
Kate was there anymore -- not in any meaningful way. Only the
Timeman and her. And she hurt. Oh, God, she hurt. Her legs trembled
as she stood facing him.
Dawn swallowed, tears running down her face.
"They'll die," she whispered.
He nodded, his eyes sad.
Her mind found the connections, even as the universe continued to
contort around her.
"I'm stronger," she said. Even as she said it, she knew the
certainty behind it. He sighed, his body trembling.
"Yes," he said. "In this battle, I would lose."
His admission didn't uplift her, as she thought it would, but rather
descended upon her like a burden. There were prices to pay, to
escape any room.
The dragon loomed up, clutching at its throat, a silver sword
implanted there.
"They'll die," she whispered. The girls continued to scream in agony
behind her.
"Can you live with that?" he asked.
"Can you?"
He sighed. "No, but I am no longer fighting you."
She sensed the truth in that. She pressed for a moment, unnerved by
the increase in the intensity of the girl's screams behind her. He
stood, arms outward, face uplifted. And she didn't sense his
presence in the bubble against which she pushed with her mind. She
could tear it apart, but she didn't know if she'd survive the pain.
Kate and Leigh and Andrea and Monique and Nicole wouldn't. Somehow,
she knew that. The girls would die screaming, and unaware of what
was happening to them. Worse, she sensed that to kill them this
way, would snuff their existence from all planes.
Tears ran down her face.
She could win. She was strong enough to win.
(And by winning, I lose everything.)
Everything has a cost.
The pain began to ease, in her limbs and outside of her as she felt
the bubble, that was her own, slowly collapsing, like a balloon
whose air had begun to leak out.
<---===***===--->
The girls wept silently behind her, as she knelt, her knees pressing
into the carpet. She could feel her own tears slipping unheeded down
her face.
She sensed him stumbling across the floor to stand in front of her.
Her lack of clothing bothered her again, but only for a moment. More
important things had happened in the last few minutes, and she
struggled to understand what.
(I am the key.)
Without raising her eyes, she spoke, her voice steadier than she
thought possible.
"Please don't hurt them," she whispered.
When he didn't reply, she reached forward to touch his shoe, the
canvas yielding under her fingers.
"If you want, I'll kiss your feet," she whispered. "I'll give
myself to you. I'll have sex with you anyway you want." Her body
cried out for sex, any touch. "You can whip me, first, if you must.
I'll masturbate for you. I'll let you have me anywhere you want. My
mouth. My pussy. My ass. I'll crawl for you. I'm the one you want."
<---===***===--->
Instead of hauling her to her feet, and preparing her for violation,
he stepped behind her, and touched her arms. She understood what he
wanted, though not why. She placed her wrists behind her back, and
wasn't surprised when the steel began to close around her, creating
a gulf of helplessness and vulnerability in her heart.
"We won't let you hurt her."
Dawn looked up wearily, and sighed. Kate and Leigh stood on wobbly
legs, their faces still registering a vestige of the pain they had
felt at the time of the reckoning.
He looked up at them. To Dawn, even kneeling naked at his feet, he
didn't look capable of stopping the two girls as they touched his
shoulders.
Dawn spoke, slowly, but firmly.
"I'll be all right, but thank you."
"He'll whip you. Rape you."
She didn't know how she knew, but she did.
"He won't. He just wants to talk to me."
Leigh and Kate released him, their hands moving back to their own
bodies, massaging their breasts.
"I'll wear his handcuffs, this last time. For him. For us. I don't
mind. Not anymore."
Kate and Leigh glanced at him, and he nodded slowly, wearily. He
could have stopped them easily, without as much as a thought. Dawn
knew that now, understood finally.
(I am the key.)
She nodded, not moving her hands from behind her back. Kate and
Leigh fell back into the sofa, the last of their energy abated. Kate
closed her eyes, but Leigh watched as the Timeman reached down and
tightened the handcuffs on Dawn's wrists. They clicked closed, and
she pulled at her wrists.
She couldn't get free, not without help, but she wasn't caged
anymore. She sensed that he knew that, only wanted her cuffed for
some kind of meaningless comfort, or illusion of control. She
sighed, and twisted her hands behind her.
(I am the key.)
<---===***===--->
She watched without protest from the archway as he moved from girl
to girl, checking the knots behind them.
"You don't need to do that," Dawn said. But he did. Not to secure
them, but for himself. The girls knelt and allowed him to tie them,
as if sensing that this was close to the end for them -- that this
indignity, after what they'd been through, was minor and kind.
It was the same position as she'd met them, all of them bound, arms
folded uncomfortably behind their backs. He attached ankle chains to
their ankles, securing them to furniture. Each girl extended her
bare foot to allow the chains, toes flexed and calves toned.
Each smiled as he bound them, each submissively accepting the
treatment. It wasn't mindless submissiveness; Dawn knew better,
acutely understood the need for them to permit this without protest.
It didn't make sense consciously, but underneath, it was necessary.
After all of the girls, still naked, were secured, he rose, and
walked over towards Dawn.
"We'll be back in a little while," Dawn whispered to the girls. Kate
flashed her a smile, reassuring her that they weren't overly
uncomfortable in their bonds. Dawn swallowed, and began to walk
again towards the front door, her bare feet passing over marble like
glass.
He held the door for her, and she stepped through into the sunlight.
It warmed her face, and she turned her face up towards it, as if it
were a spotlight only illuminating her nude, and handcuffed form.
(Not bad for a naked college girl.)
She smiled, then hurried to catch up with him, her bare feet flying
surely down the steps, and across the lawn. The black squirrel,
startled by her movements, ran ahead of her, towards the first tree.
She smiled, and eased to an easy step beside him, approaching the
elm.
Chapter 145
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Dawn lowered herself carefully to the grass, her wrists straining
against the cuffs. He didn't offer to help her; she would have
shrugged off any overt attempts to guide her down. First to her
knees, and then to an easy position in the grass, her legs extended
in front of her, crossed at the ankle. She was aware that she
resembled the cloud, high above, in silhouette. She glanced up. The
dragon no longer chased the girl, but reared from her, backing away
as if in fright. She smiled.
"It's over, isn't it?" she said, her voice directed to the clouds.
His eyes roamed over her nakedness, and she could sense it, a
sensation similar to cotton kissing her skin. She lowered her eyes,
catching him.
He grinned when he realised that she was again watching him. He
smiled shyly, and she nearly asked him if he liked what he saw. But
her tongue refused to obey, and she merely smiled back.
"Almost over, yes," he said easily.
Her breasts still ached, but she wasn't sure if it was a remnant of
the whipping, or a remnant of her fight through time. Either way,
the pain was easing with her body, and she welcomed the relief.
Hadn't she been whipped about a million years ago? She didn't know.
"What happens, now?" she said. Idly, she twisted her hands behind
her back, and it surprised her again. She honestly didn't care
anymore that her hands were bound. It was a symbol, and she'd
shattered the symbol. He could tie her, her could even rape her if
he wished. It didn't matter. Not anymore.
They sat for a while, before he answered. When he did, he spoke to
the clouds, to the dragon and the girl high above their heads.
"We can't stay here anymore, Dawn."
"I know."
"It's not right."
"Was it ever?"
He ignored the comment, and shifted his eyes back to her. This
time, he did surprise her. His eyes were misty, tears falling slowly
down his cheeks. She wanted to reach forward and brush them gently
from his face, but the handcuffs prevented that nicely for her.
"It's over."
She nodded again. The sun beat down on her naked skin, and she
stretched, not caring that her breasts lifted into the spotlight,
that he was probably watching her every move, recording it in his
mind.
"I'm only a girl," she said slowly. When she turned her eyes back to
his face, she saw only the weight of a thousand worlds on his
shoulders, his eyes not on her chest as she'd supposed.
"A strong girl," he said quietly. "And the key."
"I am the key," she whispered.
<---===***===--->
"I'll go into the cellar. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"The bedroom would be adequate," he said. "I could tie you to the
bed. At least, you'd be comfortable."
"You don't need to bind me," she said, knowing that he did, and that
she'd allow it. It was over, and he needed to control her, even if
he wasn't.
"I know," he said simply. He gazed up towards the house. If Dawn's
sense of direction was correct, five naked and tied up girls sat,
probably talking quietly, beyond those bricks and mortar. In the
real world, a man, a monster, really, tormented one of them behind
his shield of concrete and glass. Dawn shivered.
"I'll go into the cellar," she said again. "They can't see me, not
anymore."
He nodded, understanding.
She swallowed, and hated herself, even showing this small weakness.
"But, this time, can you leave the light on for me? Please?"
He turned to look at her, and she momentarily felt ashamed of
herself for asking. It didn't fit into his plans, into his schemes.
She should sit alone, in the dark, in her grave, and watch dragons.
Slowly, he nodded.
"No," she whispered. "Like last time, you don't need to leave a
light on. I'm not a child."
(I am a child.)
"They can't see you," he said. "They'll wonder, but they can't."
"I know."
(Consequences.)
(Reality. Fantasy. Sex. Longing. Pain. Reality. Fantasy.)
"I can't close it, by myself. Not anymore."
(Not since I showed up, unannounced, and not wanting to be here.)
"I know," she whispered.
He began to push himself up. She glanced up at him, standing above
her. She felt her nudity enveloping her, and a twinge of her former
discomfort rose up again in her mind. She shook it off.
"Can we stay?" she begged. "Just for a little while, longer?
Please?"
He looked down at her. He was crying again.
He nodded, although she suspected that he didn't see her anymore. He
returned slowly to his place, his back against the tree, his eyes
now closed.
She turned her face back towards the sun, her hands comfortable
behind her, now. She stretched out her legs again, the grass
tickling the underside of her knee. The pain in her breasts, and
between her legs had subsided to a dull throb of sexuality, the
sharp pain of leather and time fading from her nerves.
She still wouldn't be able to open a frozen door, she knew, but
there were no doors here. Not anymore. And there was only one more
room to escape.
(And I'm the key.)
The dragon still retreated from the girl, high above, and the
squirrel chittered at them from a branch.
She smiled. It was over. Somehow, it was over.
She closed her eyes, and enjoyed the kiss of the grass, and the
scent of the air, and the touch of the sun upon her.
<---===***===--->
She stood about midway down the steps that were merely rough boards
under her bare feet. She wished for the grass again, but she would
feel that again, soon enough.
She turned, and gazed at him as he stood in the doorway, light
framing him as he watched her.
"I am naked, you know," she said.
"Are you cold?" His voice only held concern. He'd tried to convince
her once more that the bedroom would be safe enough. She supposed it
would be, but it seemed wrong somehow. Suddenly, she was afraid of
the dark again, but it didn't frighten her as much as the memories
of bolts of time, burning pain easing through the skin of her
fingers.
She smiled, and unconsciously thrust her chest out, her breasts
still aching there.
"No, silly," she nearly whispered. "I'm naked. I'm female. And I'm
going home, soon. You can look."
He blushed, but as she stood there, making no attempt to cover
herself, he let his eyes drift down her body. He'd seen her before,
of course, but this seemed more intimate. She blushed, as well,
which she hoped the dimness of the stairs covered. When she glanced
up, his eyes were on hers again.
"You're welcome," she whispered.
She turned then, and stepped down three more stairs. The scent of
loam and cheap wine filled her nostrils. She pulled at the
handcuffs behind her back. She could ask him to remove them, and he
would.
She turned. He still watched her descend, perhaps watching her bare
bottom, or her legs as they disappeared into the gloom. She recalled
vividly, Kate's skin disappearing into the night that was the cellar
ahead of her.
"What are you going to do to them?" she asked.
She envisioned him whipping them, tied to pillars, their screams
filling the universe. She would feel every kiss of the leather, and
she shivered.
He hesitated, as if he were embarrassed.
"I'm going to say good-bye," he said slowly.
Dawn nodded, sensing that her instincts had been wrong. He wouldn't
whip them, at least not at his whim. It was over.
"Come back for me," Dawn said lightly. She knew that he would.
He smiled.
"Do I have a choice?"
(Not really.)
The light dwindled as the door shut at the top of the stairs. The
click of the lock, to which she didn't have a key any more than she
had a key to her handcuffs, tore an element of finality into her
mind.
She sighed, and descended two more stairs, her bare feet searching
through the blackness until she felt damp, packed earth under her
toes. Slowly, Dawn stepped across the earth, envisioning snakes, and
mice, and cockroaches, half-expecting to bump into Kate, her voice
lightly telling her that it was her breast, not her cheek.
Dawn smiled.
Her toe touched damp concrete, and she pressed her back into the
wall of her prison. Slowly, she slipped down the wall until the
earth kissed her bum. She sighed, and extended her legs, peering out
into the blackness.
Dragons, and girls, Goliaths and Davids fought within, the earth
rumbling under her.
It was going to be a long wait.
<---===***===--->
The light blinded her, even though it originated in a caged, low
intensity bulb. She screamed, as she blinked away tears.
The lamp illuminated a small cellar around her, cinder blocks
framing the packed earthen floor. To her right, racks of wine stood,
probably turned to vinegar. A furnace, green, stood to her left, the
stairway that she'd picked her way down in the dark rising up like a
ladder from a grave directly in front of her.
By the foot of those stairs, she surmised, tears still blinding her,
is where she had touched Kate's breast, not hurting her. And where
she had touched Dawn's.
A light tap floated down the stairs, like an apology, rapped in
Morse code upon the door that led from this place. She looked up the
stairs, half-expecting to see the door swing open, freeing her. It
didn't, of course, the tap only a signal that he'd forgotten her in
the dark, hadn't intended to leave her lightless for her
self-permitted incarceration.
"I wasn't expecting light, but it's nice," she whispered to nobody
in particular. Then as the last tap faded from echoing down the
stairs, "Thank you, anyway, though."
She looked around again. No boogeymen. No mice. No insects. No
snakes. Only a lonely girl, waiting, her toes making furrows in the
earth.
<---===***===--->
Her breath came in deep rasps, her body throbbing to her own sexual
rhythm. Her hips rocked.
By stretching her arms, she could reach, a little, her fingers
brushing the soft skin of her breast. She cried out softly as she
stretched further, one hand reaching over her bare thigh to tease
her vaginal lips. Between them, just a little, her clitoris sang. He
probably didn't realise that a flexible girl might be able to do
this. It was all part of her descent here -- why she hadn't
insisted that he release her hands. She didn't want them released,
any more than he wanted to release them. It was part of this,
somehow, it was meant to prevent ... this ...
She moaned, as she stretched a little further, her shoulders crying
out, her wrists burning where they were held by the steel. Her index
finger brushed her clitoris, so wet, so delicious.
She cursed the light; this would have been easier, perhaps, in the
dark, where she didn't have to watch herself, her swollen nipples,
her finger delving between her spread thighs. More anonymous,
perhaps. Images of Linda's tongue teasing her, and Kate's fingers on
her breast assaulted her numbed mind. Sweet release in offices, in
schools, and in streets.
(No.)
She cried out, tearing her hand from herself.
(Please.)
Her hands lifted again, one finger trailing musk in a line towards
her chest. Her scent filled her nostrils, and she moaned.
Her thumb and her forefinger grasped her nipple. It throbbed
between.
(No. Not yet.)
(It's over.)
(You are the key.)
(Fuck the key. I can reach. And he's not here. Nobody's here.
I'm alone. Completely, alone.)
She groaned and took a deep breath.
She twisted, her breast erupting in agony. Her hands fell, her
nipple driving tentacles of pain and arousal into her body. Tears
fell from her eyes, and she wished again for darkness. The bulb
burned on for a moment, then shattered, sending slivers of glass
through its cage and onto her bare legs. She screamed as darkness
fell on her like a prison.
Her hands reached again, her eyes closed.
She didn't care anymore. Didn't care.
(No.)
Her finger brushed her bruised nipple once, and she sighed.
Crying, she leaned her head back, and allowed her hands to drop
again behind her back. Her shoulders eased their symphony of pain,
thanking her profusely. But her breasts and her clitoris and her
vagina screamed at her, cursing her for teasing, cursing her for
resisting.
She closed her eyes, and struggled to control her breathing.
Somehow, she'd stopped, and she remained in control. She could feel
sharp slivers of glass against her shins, and thighs, and she hoped
that none had cut her, at least not badly. Slowly, she moved her
legs back together, a parody of modesty that she didn't feel. She
wanted sex, and girls didn't have sex with their legs together, did
they?
Her body ached worse than before, and she tried to ignore it.
She sat naked, and in the dark again, dragons rising from the gloom.
But this time, they didn't threaten, only teased, and watched her.
The concrete wasn't comfortable, and the dirt against her skin felt,
well, dirty.
Nevertheless, she slowed her breathing, and tried to relax.
Only a wine cellar with a furnace. Not a grave.
Her prison. Not an amusement park.
Somewhere above, he was bidding the girls good-bye.
She sighed, and squeezed her eyes shut. A single tear of frustration
rolled down her cheek.
(Control.)
(It was over.)
(I am the key.)
The darkness deepened, and she gladly let go of consciousness.
Sleep claimed her, even while her body continued to throb.
Chapter 146
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"But, I want to stay. Here, with you. With them."
He shook his head, sighing. This girl had been through so much, and
he had to deny her.
"Nicole," he said quietly, "it's over. I have to let you go."
"Don't you realise where you are sending me? I can't go back to him.
He'll kill me."
"I know, Nicole, and I wish it weren't."
"It's because of her, isn't it?"
"Who?"
"Dawn. The new girl. The one you want." Her voice rang with a hint
of bitterness.
He shivered, and his body pulsed. "The one I want?"
Nicole nodded. He looked at her for a while. Tears fell down her
face, her hands, now free, wrung between her knees. They sat at the
top of the marble staircase, her toes curled against the top step.
He sat on the rail, easily swinging his legs in the sunshine. Her
skin, unblemished except for the discolouration on her left side,
and the fading bruise on her cheek, shone palely in the sun. She
turned away, her eyes scanning the gardens below them.
"Dawn didn't do this," he said.
"Kate said ..."
"I know what Kate said; she doesn't understand. Dawn was only the
catalyst. It had to end sometime."
"He's going to kill me."
"I know, but you have to hold on. Perhaps, for a week."
Nicole nodded gravely.
"I hate him."
"He's your father."
"Genetically, only. I hate him. Always will."
He sensed it in her, and sympathised. Light red marks from the ropes
he'd used on her pressed in her wrists and forearms. She didn't
seem to mind. She would let him tie her, rape her, make her crawl,
if only he'd let her stay. He couldn't.
Her face lowered to rest on her bare knees.
"I don't mind it here. I know I'm under your control, perhaps even
more so than I was with him, but I don't mind it. I feel ... free
... here."
He smiled, and continued to swing his legs, listening to her soft
voice, and watching the clouds. They looked different from here than
they did from under the elm.
"Do you know when the last time I sat here was?"
"When?"
"I was clothed, of course, I had come home from school, dropped out
actually, and I thought maybe he'd changed. I sat here, watching
the gardens, and thinking I'd start over." She paused, and he
thought she might be crying quietly, but when she raised her eyes,
they were dry. "I started over," she whispered. She touched her ribs
and winced.
"Nicole ..."
She shook her head.
"I used to stand up there, in my room, gazing through the glass,
watching the squirrels." She waved idly towards the single non-human
creature awake in the world. "I envied them. They didn't get
whipped. They didn't get raped. They didn't get bound to their beds
to sleep. Sometimes, if he wasn't home, or he had left me to suffer,
I stood there and didn't care that I was naked, that I was wearing
nipple clamps, that I had been burned with a cigarette. My pain
eased, and I flew over the garden, ran through the grass. I always
had to return, of course, but I dreamed."
"Nicole, you don't have to ..."
"I do," she said. This time, he was sure that tears fell down the
girl's cheeks. "Did you know that I slept sometimes with that
Frisbee? That it was the one thing that he wouldn't destroy of mine,
because he didn't know how much it meant to me?"
"I know, Nicole. I know."
She looked up at him, her eyes shiny wet, and then nodded.
After a while, she glanced back up at him, and sighed.
"He's going to kill me."
"I won't let him."
"He knows the chief of police. He knows the fucking mayor. He knows
the judges. They've all raped me, while he whipped me. I'm his
bribes, his security."
"I know," he said.
"I've had sex with them. Don't you see? He'll kill me, and get away
with it. Nobody knows I'm here. You can't send me back. Please."
He sighed. "I know you're here. And so does Dawn."
Nicole leaned forward, and for a moment, he thought that she was
going to be sick. He dropped from the railing, intending to at least
hold back her hair for her, but the girl surprised him.
"I'll be all right," she said slowly, her voice cracking. Wracking
sobs shook her body, and he could see pain funnelling through her,
as she shook. Instead, he took her in his arms, and cradled her,
stroking her hair gently. It reminded him of her nightmare, an
eternity ago, when she hadn't wakened, but fought in her dreams with
a monster.
"Thank-you," she whispered, wiping at her eyes.
She sat up, and looked around the grounds, her eyes locking onto an
innocent creature, black and furry. He followed her gaze. She
watched the squirrel for a long time, as it climbed trees, and
chattered, foraging as squirrels were wont to do.
"I'd like to be free," she said.
"I wish ..."
"You don't understand," she interrupted. Her eyes remained shiny
with tears, but none spilt. "I want to run in the garden. Be with
the squirrels for a while. Free."
He nodded slowly. "Don't hurt yourself," he said, nodding towards
her injured ribs. She groaned as she pushed herself to her bare
feet.
"Do you want clothing?" he asked. She lived here. She should have
something in her closet, or a dresser that she could wear. In fact,
the jeans she was wearing when he had found her would give her at
least a sense of normalcy.
She cast him a puzzled look, and stepped down three marble steps
carefully.
"Clothing, what for? There's nobody here, right?"
"Just me."
"You've seen my birthday suit." She spread her arms to the side,
turning slowly on the step. It reminded him of Dawn, presenting
herself to him, giving him permission to watch her on a rougher
staircase, leading down into darkness instead of sunlight. Nicole
hesitated, and then spoke again. "In my visions, I was always naked.
It seemed more free. More normal. For me. For better or for worse,
I'm not the same girl I used to be."
He nodded, and shrugged. He climbed to his feet, and began to walk
back to the rail. Before he climbed back up, he turned.
She seemed to debate something with herself, and then ran up the few
steps she had descended. When she reached him, she raised herself up
on her toes, and placed her hands on his shoulders. She kissed his
cheek, and then blushing, turned and walked back to the stairs.
"Thank-you," she whispered.
And then she was gone, running down the stairs, her hair tumbling in
the wind that she created. Her easy laughter kissed his ears as he
watched her run through the gardens, stopping to pick flowers, and
smell them, sometimes merely lying in the grass, her fingers nearly
caressing the blades beneath her bare skin.
The squirrel watched her, perhaps puzzled at the sight -- a carefree
girl, naked and alone in the garden that had seemed so far away. He
watched her, too, a smile gracing his lips.
It wouldn't be easy, but Nicole would survive. Of that, he was
certain.
With a sigh, he left her, and pushed open the door. Four more girls
waited patiently for him to release them.
Chapter 147
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Monique leaned forward, unconsciously pulling at the ropes that held
her arms behind her. She gasped as his fingers worked behind her
back, out of her line of sight. Her breasts, bare as they had been
for a long time now, shifted on her chest as the last of the ropes
fell from her body.
He walked around her, and without prompting, simply understanding,
Monique lifted her right leg, presenting her shackled ankle to his
fingers. She sighed as the cuff parted, and she was free again.
Absently, she rubbed at her arms, wincing at the light welts left by
the coarse rope.
"What about the others?" she asked, as she pushed herself to her
bare feet.
"The others?" He looked puzzled, as if the other three girls didn't
exist for him.
"Aren't you going to release them, too?"
His face relaxed, and he nodded slowly.
"In time. When they're ready. When it's time."
That vexed Monique, but she shrugged. While she understood some of
this man, she would never understand everything that surrounded her.
She glanced at Kate, and the redhead nodded, flashing her a smile
that reassured Monique that Kate, and the others, didn't mind
waiting in the ropes. The other girls seemed content to wait, secure
in their restraints, aware that he'd let them free, as he had
Monique, soon. Leigh shifted her weight with a stifled groan, but
then smiled as well..
"They aren't animals," Monique observed.
He nodded, and turned her around, facing the archway.
"Rope, or handcuffs?" he asked.
"What?"
"Would you prefer if I tied your hands with rope, or would you
prefer handcuffs."
"Neither," she said hopefully, but sensing that her hands would be
bound no matter what she said. Resignedly, she shifted her hands
behind her back, her fingers interlacing.
"Only for a little while," he said.
She believed him, somehow sensing that he needed her bound but only
for a while, because something had changed. Something had happened,
something larger than the six girls and the one man who inhabited
this strange universe.
She didn't remember much -- remembered Dawn standing between the
girls and the Timeman -- remembered deep pain, robbing her of sense,
filling her universe. Pain. Agony. Like she'd dropped into hell. Her
body shivered.
It was because of Dawn, and that battle, that he wanted her tied,
needed her tied.
"Whichever you'd prefer," she said simply. Honestly, she thought she
would prefer the handcuffs, but mainly because they were easier to
remove, and didn't tend to cut off her circulation.
She jumped a little as she felt steel kiss her wrists, and a smile
found her lips as the ratchet within closed about her, holding her
like a lover.
She unconsciously pulled against the cuffs, but knew that she was
secured until he unlocked her. Slowly, she turned to face him.
Another touch, and she began to walk towards the archway, her bare
feet quiet on the carpet.
<---===***===--->
She stopped under the painted doorway. He stopped beside her, one
hand familiarly upon her elbow. He made no move to push her, or
entice her to continue.
Her eyes swept over the remaining girls, finally resting on Leigh.
The brunette's eyes were damp, and the sense of conclusion leapt
through Monique like a steamroller. Her eyes moved to Andrea, who
smiled and nodded, as if she understood far more than Monique did.
Understood something that Monique hadn't even dwelt upon before.
"I'm going home, aren't I?" she whispered.
She turned back to the Timeman, who nodded slowly. She thought that
she saw a tear glistening there before he turned away from her,
moving off down the hallway.
"You'll be fine," Kate said, her voice nearly breaking.
Monique glanced down the hallway. He waited for her at the front
door, his hand resting easily against the mantle there.
Without thinking, Monique ran back into the living room, kneeling
between Kate, and Leigh.
"I'm going to miss you," she said.
The two girls nodded, tears falling slowly down their cheeks.
Monique gently kissed away the furrows, and pushed herself back to
her feet awkwardly.
"Good-bye," she said.
Leigh and Kate lowered their faces, perhaps in an attempt to hide
their own tears. Monique turned, and slowly walked from the room,
one bare foot leading the other. The chains behind her jingled
softly.
"Done?" he asked kindly. There wasn't going to be any more
punishment, no more asking his permission for simple acts.
She nodded, and stepped from the house into the sunshine.
It wasn't until she reached the walkway that she realised that she
hadn't said good-bye to Andrea.
<---===***===--->
The grass tickled her bare skin as she sat, legs together. Nicole
sat near the back of the property, still naked, but seemingly free.
Monique turned her eyes from the girl, a smile finding her lips.
"You're letting us go? Just like that? We don't have to fuck you for
our freedom?"
His eyes were on the sky, his back against the elm. He seemed to
shiver at her words.
He nodded slowly, his eyes finding her face. There was no
disapproval there -- not for her use of the word fuck, not blaming
her for her enquiry.
"What do you want, Monique?"
She laughed, a sudden ease suffusing her.
"I want to go home."
"Soon, Monique, I promise."
"Clothing? My life back?"
He smiled. "Clothing isn't a problem. When we go back inside,
there's a black dress in the kitchen. You can wear it if you like."
Monique nodded. She had worn it before, sizing it for another girl,
for a dinner that seemed only a distant memory.
"The use of my hands?" She jingled the cuffs behind her.
He sighed, and held up a key. Sunlight reflected from it, dots of
lights danced across the grass like Tinkerbelle. He leaned forward.
Monique twisted, and then sighed, leaning back away from him.
"I can stand it until we go back inside."
He nodded, and she was warmed somehow by the look of appreciation
that crossed his face. That she should even want to please this man
surprised her. But she sensed it, he would have released her in a
second, if she'd pressed. Her hands could remain behind her for a
while more. He'd help her up, if she needed it.
"Why?" she asked.
"Why, what?"
"Why are you letting me go?"
"Because it's time. We can't stay any longer."
She nodded, though she didn't understand. It had something to do
with Dawn, but she didn't need to understand. She was going home.
A stab of electricity warmed her breasts. For a second, she was
surprised as the grass tickled her private regions as she sat.
"I. I want sex. Here. Before I go back," she murmured. A hot flush
infused her face before she could stop it. He nodded easily, no
surprise on his face.
Her lips continued to form the words, before she could stop them.
"It's different here. I won't have the chance again." Almost in
apology, she continued slowly. "Not you," she whispered. He smiled,
as if he'd expected it. "I mean, I will, if you like, but ..."
He leaned forward and shushed her, placing a finger against her
lips. When she stopped trying to speak, he released her.
Her mind filled with images of washing the other girls, gentle rain
falling amongst them, fingers easing away aches and pains, forbidden
touches. She closed her eyes, seeing her fingers brushing soap
across Dawn's bare body, Nicole's, Kate's.
When she opened her eyes, he wasn't looking at her. He watched
Nicole, as the naked girl bent to touch a flower.
"I don't know what this is," she whispered. He didn't say anything,
didn't even look at her. She continued, undeterred. "You've robbed
me of my humanity, made me take off my clothing, crawl naked in
front of my office, made me have sex with everyone, never allowed to
climax. Even now, I'm sitting here naked in the grass, my hands
handcuffed, handcuffed, behind me, and ... I honestly don't know
what it was all for. I was a lawyer in my former life, a damn good
one. I had it all. You took it all away from me, brought me here.
Why, me?"
His eyes found hers and held them.
"You're pretty and you're strong. You were the girl I was drawn,
too."
"There are a million girls out there prettier and stronger than I
am."
"That's where you're wrong, Monique. You're going to run that firm
one day, and you'll be good at it."
"I'm confused," Monique said. "I. I don't know what I want."
He smiled and reached to touch her foot. She made no attempt to pull
away, his fingers sending ripples of excitement up her calf to her
thigh.
"Yes, you do."
"If I hadn't come here, I wouldn't know, would I?"
He shrugged. "You might have figured it out."
"I won't remember, though."
He shook his head.
"I don't think I want to remember."
<---===***===--->
They walked down the path, the odd stone pressing into her bare
toes. She glanced across the manicured lawn, and saw Nicole watching
her.
Without even glancing at the Timeman, she turned, and walked across
the grass. Idly, she hoped that she wouldn't forget the sensation,
and remember to walk barefoot in the grass whenever the opportunity
arose, back where she was supposed be. Nicole waited, standing
awkwardly upon the grass.
"This is good-bye, isn't it?" Nicole said.
Monique nodded. "I think so."
Nicole sighed, and shifted her weight. "I know that you won't
understand -- you've always wanted to go back, and I understand
that. I don't want to go."
Tears flooded Monique's eyes, and she wished that she could have the
girl stay. She'd offer her own freedom for this girl, if she could,
stay here bound and naked forever if necessary. She cursed the cuffs
that still adorned her wrists, twisting at them savagely. She wanted
to hug Nicole, draw her in close.
As if sensing Monique's problem, Nicole reached forward with her
free arms, and pulled Monique in. Her scent flooded Monique's
senses, arousing her as her skin kissed Nicole's. She felt Nicole
cringe, perhaps as her injury grated, but Nicole didn't release her
for a long time.
"It's not the same here," Nicole whispered. "We're free."
"I know. There isn't such a thing as rape, or assault here. Not
with him. I figured that out a while ago."
"Do you hate him?"
"Not anymore."
Nicole smiled, and nodded. "It's different here. Like ... Eden."
With that, Nicole bent and kissed Monique's cheek. Monique fought
off tears, and returned the kiss, chaste, like a sister.
Nicole brushed the tears from her eyes, and smiled.
"Have fun. Whatever you do, have fun like there is no tomorrow."
"I will."
And she was pretty sure that she would.
Turning, she ran back to the Timeman, who'd settled on the first
marble step, not watching the naked girls, but concentrating on a
particular cloud, that reminded Monique of a dragon in flight.
Chapter 148
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
She sighed as the handcuffs fell away from her wrists for the last
time. She left her arms behind her back for a moment, then turned to
face him. He smiled as she idly rubbed at her wrists, though they
weren't sore. It felt wonderful to be free, knowing that she was
finally going to escape. No more punishment. No more enforced
nudity. No more fear.
Glancing around the spartan room, her eyes settled on the queen
sized bed, its covers rumpled from previous use. She paced over to
it, and sat, crossing her bare legs at the ankle. He peered at her;
his eyes lit up as if he'd remembered something. She was reminded of
cartoon characters, light bulbs appearing above their heads. She
stifled a giggle.
"Your dress," he said.
"It's not necessary anymore," she whispered. And she was surprised
to find that she didn't care anymore. Yes, she was still naked for
the world to see, but it simply didn't matter. Her heart ached, as
did her breasts, and deep into the core of her being.
She sighed, and nearly stood to stop him, but he'd left before she
could fully rise. Dropping back to the bed sheets, she closed her
eyes, and lay back, stretching her suddenly free arms.
<---===***===--->
The fabric slipped cool and silky over her head, falling in waves
over her body, hugging her breasts, and forming over her hips. It
fell to her calf, modestly covering her.
Ironically, it felt wrong -- her nudity almost expected. She stared
at herself in the mirror, a reflection of grand illusion. Turning,
she grinned at him.
"I can keep this?"
"If you like. When you go back, you'll return to your office
attire."
She though of her suit, folded neatly in Blake's office where she'd
crawled naked for him, and Jones. She shivered. At least she
wouldn't remember that, and she hoped that they wouldn't either.
Despite her new found freedom, that was beyond her, even now. Yes,
she'd crawl for him, if she needed to, but somehow she doubted that
he'd ask.
It was over.
Her feet felt odd being bare against the floor, and she twirled back
towards the bed. She hesitated before sitting again. She lifted her
face and was surprised to see him smiling at her.
"You'd prefer if I took this off again, wouldn't you?"
Her fingers toyed with the neckline, her finger tips brushing the
tops of her breasts. A small ripple of desire flit through her. She
began to lift it, only a hint of disappointment crossing into her
being.
His fingers touched hers, and she glanced back up. He was close,
perhaps too close, but she didn't mind. She'd kiss him, if he
wanted.
"Stop."
"But ..."
"Yes, I liked you naked. You're a beautiful woman. But that time is
done. You want this, and I don't wish to take it from you. Relax."
And she did, sinking back down to the bed. She drew up her knees,
and hugged herself, suddenly aware that he couldn't see her anymore,
not unless she chose to show him.
"I want ..." she began.
He nodded slowly.
"Only if she agrees."
Monique nodded, butterflies flittering in places that they
shouldn't.
He turned from her, and left, only a hint of disturbance in the air
where he'd been. She could smell Leigh's soft scent in the folds of
the dress, the teen being the last to wear it in a time before time
began. Had it only been last night?
Monique sighed, watching the patterns of light upon the yellowed
ceiling. Her hands rose for a moment, playing with her nipples
casually through the silky fabric of the dress.
She'd let him see her naked again. Before she left.
After a while, she opened her eyes. Footsteps, one in shoes, the
other the whisper of bare feet, climbed the stairs slowly. Monique
shivered and tried to calm her beating heart.
<---===***===--->
Monique pushed herself up into a sitting position, her legs
outstretched in front of her, her bare toes pointed towards the foot
of the bed.
Only the girl entered, looking like an angel, glowing, her lips
smiling. Sudden nervousness flit through Monique, and she cringed
inwardly.
He hadn't forced this, they both had a choice. This wasn't his sick
game any longer. Only the two of them, alone in the room. Almost
from a distance, she heard his footsteps recede down the hallway,
and down the stairs.
"Hi," Andrea said. Andrea stood and leaned against the doorway, her
arms still tied behind her back, her breasts framed in rope. She
didn't look uncomfortable, but a little confused.
"Hi," Monique said, almost shyly. "He didn't untie you?"
Andrea smiled. "I think he meant for you to do it, if you wanted
to."
Monique began to slide her legs to the side of the bed, but stopped
as Andrea spoke.
"Monique, stop."
Monique raised her eyebrows in a silent query.
"Is it true?"
"What?"
"That you ... wanted me here?"
"What did he tell you?"
"He didn't. He unlocked my ankle and led me up here. He wouldn't
answer me. The only reason he'd do that is if you wanted me here."
Monique sighed, and fought the blush from her cheeks. Slowly, she
nodded.
Andrea smiled, and pulled against the ropes holding her arms. "The
dress looks beautiful on you."
Suddenly, Monique felt self-conscious, aware of herself, clothed,
free while Andrea stood naked and bound in front of her. She began
to push herself up again, though she wasn't sure if she would pull
the dress off first, or untie Andrea.
"Wait," Andrea said. She hesitated, and swallowed heavily. "I'm
only willing to do this, if you want to do this. If it's wrong ...
I can't live with that. I'd rather walk down the steps, and live
with my arms behind me forever."
Monique felt tears spring to her eyes, but brushed them away. She
swallowed, feeling her heart jump into her throat. Her feet carried
her towards Andrea, and the blonde girl watched, almost warily.
"I want to do this," Monique said. "If you're willing."
Andrea nodded.
Without thought, Monique lifted herself on her bare toes, and kissed
Andrea. Andrea hesitated, then kissed Monique back. Monique's hand
rose, and brushed at the bottom curve of Andrea's breast, gently.
<---===***===--->
Andrea sat quietly on the bed, swinging her legs. Monique's fingers
fumbled with the knots, and after slipping three times, she closed
her eyes and nearly wept.
"It's all right," Andrea said. "If you can't untie me, we can do it
like this." She twisted her body to partially face Monique.
"It's not fair," Monique whispered.
"Life isn't fair, sometimes."
Monique sighed, and pressed her fingers against Andrea's bare
shoulder. Andrea turned her back to Monique again, her fingers
fidgeting, her arms remaining tight against her back.
It took two more attempts, but the knot finally gave up, and the
ropes tumbled from Andrea's body.
"Finally," Andrea whispered, pushing Monique backwards gently. "I
can touch you."
Monique lay back, and shivered as Andrea's lips found her. Her
breasts ached, her whole body ached, even her toes.
She tried to say something, even she didn't know what, but Andrea
shushed her with her lips.
<---===***===--->
She stood before Andrea, her arms held at her side. Her breath came
in short bursts, her heart hammering. She longed for Andrea's
fingers to be inside her, brushing her, filling her.
Slowly, she raised her arms, the dress rustling over her bare skin
underneath. Suddenly, it was no longer a shield, something
comfortable hiding her from the world, but a constricting wall, one
that she wanted to climb to freedom.
She stared at Andrea. The girl was breathing as raggedly as she, but
Andrea hesitated, her breasts rising and falling rapidly.
"Are you sure?" Andrea asked.
Monique bit her lip and nodded without hesitation.
Andrea's fingers removed that which Monique had longed for, had
begged for, had been willing to crawl for. Slowly, sensuously, the
dress lifted over her head, over her arms. Cool air, Andrea's
breath, kissed her naked skin.
Monique moaned as Andrea dropped the silk, puddling about Monique's
ankles. Andrea's fingers found her, caressing, and light.
Oh, God.
<---===***===--->
It had been days of sexual frustration rising in her, pushing aside
inhibition, and thought, the wave rising in her as Andrea's tongue
found her rhythms, stroking, and aching.
Her voice rose, Andrea's fingers light upon her nipples.
She wasn't normally a screamer, quiet sex seducing her.
She screamed as the first wave crested, sparkling light dancing
behind her squeezed shut eyes.
<---===***===--->
She lay panting, her breasts rising and falling in a quick rhythm
upon her chest. Her fingers lay easily between her breasts, almost
as if she were praying.
Andrea lay quietly against her shoulder, blonde hair fanned out
across her chest and belly.
With this girl, she'd found peace where she'd never expected it.
Perhaps it was this land, perhaps it was this timelessness. She
sensed that her hormones had been heightened, driving desire into
her where there hadn't been before, the climax, climaxes, almost
elevating her to goddess-like heights.
She'd screamed. That much she remembered, almost as if she were in
pain. But pain had ended, a long time ago, in another life.
She stroked at Andrea's hair, gently, breathing in the soft perfume
of her skin.
Andrea stirred, and pushed herself up.
"Was it everything you expected?" she asked, a smile gracing her
lips. Monique thought that she could see a little of her own
moisture there. Andrea smiled, and wiped it from her chin, licking
absently at her fingers.
"More," Monique whispered. "Where did you ... ?"
Andrea smiled. "I've been with girls before. Not often, but enough
to know ... university experimentation ..."
Monique reached up, and ran her fingers down Andrea's thigh. She was
soft, and warm.
Andrea shook her head.
"You?" Monique said. She wanted to reciprocate, wanted to taste
Andrea. A warm glow spread through her limbs.
Andrea shook her head. Her breathing hadn't slowed as Monique's had,
and her lips flashed a deep shade of crimson. Her nipples looked as
if they must ache as much as Monique's had before she'd screamed.
Andrea touched Monique's hand, gently stopping her from caressing
her bare thigh.
"I'll be fine."
Suddenly, Monique knew without a doubt, that she'd been given a gift
-- this girl had sent her through the waves without expecting
anything in return. Anything else would have been -- selfish,
impure.
"He's not here. It's over. You're allowed to climax," she said
reaching again. Andrea stopped her gently, raising Monique's hand to
her lips and kissing her softly.
"I know," she said. "It's over. But ..."
Monique nodded, suddenly understanding.
She pushed herself up, her eyes damp. She faced Andrea on the bed.
Beside her thigh, the black of the dress tickled her.
"We made it. Somehow," she whispered.
Andrea nodded, her tongue licking at her lips.
"I enjoyed it," Andrea said. "You, I mean."
Monique smiled, and reached for her again. This time, it was more
than sexual; Andrea seemed to understand and allowed the embrace.
Their breasts pressed together in a last kiss of intimacy, holding
each other.
"It's over," Andrea whispered. "You'll figure it out."
"I know I will," Monique said. "I just hope that I'm brave enough.
Outside of all this."
"You're strong."
Monique nodded. She'd survived somehow.
Andrea kissed her one last time. Monique could taste herself on
Andrea's lips, and she didn't mind.
Finally, Andrea released her. Her breathing was still quick and
light.
She stood, standing for a moment, her hand resting on the bedpost.
"I have to go, now," Andrea whispered.
"I know."
Monique lay back against the bedclothes, her arms tucked under her
breasts.
Andrea bent and gathered up the ropes that had bound her when she
arrived. They swung easily in her hand, deceptive in their
innocence. Andrea turned at the door, blowing a kiss.
"Good-bye," she whispered. Tears shone in her eyes.
"Thank-you," Monique said. There was no use holding them back.
Tears spilled as a flash of Andrea's bare heel disappeared with her
footsteps echoing up the hallway, receding into the distance.
<---===***===--->
She stood, slowly, and slipped the black silk over her head,
covering her nudity. She stood in front of the mirror for a long
time, breathing hard, remembering, as if willing it to remain with
her, crossing boundaries.
She cried for a while, then turned and settled back to the bed,
wiping at her eyes. Her bare toes toyed with the oaken floorboards.
She waited.
<---===***===--->
"Are you ready?"
She shook her head slowly.
"I want to stay. I'll take this off, and you can tie me up again. I
don't care."
He laughed gently, and touched her shoulder. He wiped at her tears,
and crouched.
"You don't want that, Monique. Truly, you don't. Even if I had the
power to give it to you."
She sniffled, and hugged herself. Pushing against the mattress, she
stood and swayed for a moment.
In one fluid motion, she lifted the dress from her skin, and it
dropped in a pool of inky blackness around her bare ankles. She
stepped away from it, her hands held easily at her side. No attempt
to cover herself, standing proudly, unashamed in front of him. One
last view of her, as she was, nothing to hide.
"You don't have to do that," he said with a smile as he
straightened.
"I know. I wanted to," she said, though she didn't fully understand
herself why she'd done it. Only that she'd had to do it, and not
because he'd expected it, or demanded it. Because she had wanted to
do it.
He stood about a pace in front of her, arms crossed, eyes upon hers.
"I'm going to miss this place," she whispered.
"No, you won't."
She nodded, head remaining bowed.
On impulse, she stepped forward and kissed his cheek, chastely.
After all she'd been through, she still couldn't believe that she
would be saying it.
"Thank-you," she said simply. Another thought flit through her mind,
and she nearly didn't say it. But again, impulse carried her. The
way he was going, she thought, he'd need one someday. "If you ever
need a lawyer," she whispered.
He nodded and smiled.
"Are you ready?"
She cleared her mind, her thoughts turning from crawling naked for
bosses, and girls being whipped. Instead, Andrea's soft fingers and
clean scent rushed into her memory, and she closed her eyes, fixing
her mind on the pleasant thoughts. A warmth spread through her.
"I'm ready," she said.
A faint tingling, like a wildly gentler version of pins and needles
tickled her bare skin, beginning in her fingertips and ending in her
toes. It was warm, like the scent of fields of clover. She gasped,
once, and felt herself falling.
<---===***===--->
He stood for a long time, looking at the place where she'd stood.
The sweet smell of sex suffused him, making him ache in all the
right places. He'd been tempted to watch them, knowing that Andrea
would accept, even before she did, somehow knowing what Monique
needed in this place. The girls wouldn't have objected to his
presence. But it wouldn't have been right. Not anymore.
The black evening dress puddled where her bare feet had been. He
bent and picked it up, almost cradling the fabric. Her unique scent
tickled his nose. She'd fought so hard to get it, only to remove it,
allowing him a last view of her as she was before returning to the
place where she'd always longed to be.
He swallowed heavily, and picked up the handcuffs, discarded
carelessly on the end table. She was the first to go back.
He didn't realise that he was crying until he stood silently in the
middle of the staircase.
He hoped that she found what she was looking for back in the place
where they'd never meet.
Chapter 149
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
He stood on the opulent marble of the front stoop, his eyes casting
around the gardens. His vision was blurred, and he sighed as he
brushed away the moisture upon his cheeks.
Men don't cry. Shouldn't.
He closed his eyes, hearing Nicole's soft voice singing somewhere
below.
Monique had been the first to go back. The tears told him that he'd
waited too long, that he had done it again, let them get inside of
him. He hoped the others would be easier, but he doubted it.
He inhaled deeply, the clearer air here filling his lungs.
He opened his eyes. There was a girl in a deep cellar waiting for
this to be over, uncomfortable, and probably frightened. There were
four girls still here that needed to go home.
Above, the clouds remained as they had been for three days and three
nights, motionless, a dragon flying through the blue.
<---===***===--->
Her voice came soft and gentle to his ears.
"Are you all right?"
He opened his eyes, brushing at his cheeks. Nicole stood like an
angel before him, naked with a look of deep concern flushing her
cheeks. He swallowed, and pushed the image of Monique dropping her
evening attire from his mind.
"I'll be fine."
"She's gone, isn't she?"
"Monique?"
Nicole nodded, her hair trembling across her shoulders.
He pursed his lips, refusing to let the tears fall again. He
nodded.
"She wanted to go back. It was the right thing to do."
He nodded again, knowing that Nicole was telling him only the truth.
They all needed to go back, despite his feelings, despite his
desires.
Nicole shifted her weight, and turned her back, looking out across
the garden again. She waved at the squirrel, which trembled for a
moment and then dashed towards the back lawn.
Without looking at him, Nicole spoke.
"I'm ready, I think."
He reached forward and touched her arm. When she turned, her eyes
were shiny with tears.
"I'd like ... I'd like to say good-bye," she whispered.
<---===***===--->
She hugged them all as he stood watching from the doorway.
She bent at each, whispering something to first Andrea, then Kate,
then Leigh, embracing each girl as she might a lover about to embark
on a long trip.
Then she stood in front of him, making no attempt to stop the tears.
He reached to her face and brushed at the trail of moisture, her
tears coating his fingertips.
"I'm ready," she said, her voice stronger than he'd expected. "Can
we do this in the garden?" She paused as if he'd refuse her.
"Please?"
He nodded and began to walk back to the front door. When he turned
to look, she stood framed by the archway. She saw him looking, and
smiled weakly.
She spun, just once, and waved to the girls that were out of his
sight now, silently wishing them all well in their separate
journeys.
With purpose, she tore herself from the living room, and walked
towards him.
<---===***===--->
"By the elm," she said quietly.
He shrugged, and followed the naked girl across the grass until they
stood underneath its branches.
"Why here?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. You liked it here."
He nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black shape
hurtling through the blades of grass. Nicole smiled, and crouched.
The squirrel rose up on its hind legs, watching her, almost waving.
"Good-bye, little one. I'll see you on the other side."
She straightened, and the squirrel dashed off again, ignoring the
silly humans intruding into its domain.
"I won't let you stay here," he said slowly.
She nodded. "I'll survive. Somehow." Understanding his meaning.
Turning, she glanced one last time around the gardens.
"I was free here," she said slowly. The tears had returned.
He waited for her to face him again. She did, her chin lifted a
little. Her bare body trembled.
"I'm ready." Her voice rang surely.
He pushed, closing his eyes. He felt her, but for a moment, as his
time intersected hers, almost a touch as intimate and gentle as a
lover's hand.
He heard her gasp, and then a whisper:
"Thank-you."
When he opened his eyes, she was gone, returned to a former life,
more painful than this one. He swallowed heavily and turned from the
tree against which she'd stood but moments before.
This time, he managed to keep the tears at bay, and after a while,
he began to walk back towards the Mansion.
<---===***===--->
He stood in front of her bedroom door, hand resting on the handle.
One twist and a push, and he could see her again.
She would be kneeling, her blouse ruined, her hands handcuffed,
tears running down her face, jeans clothing her hips, wrists
bleeding with desperate tugs against steel. Her father, the animal,
would be standing in front of her, offering her a gift that she
didn't want.
He shivered, nausea racing through him.
He shook his head, and let his hand drop to his side, brushing at
his faded Levis.
"You'll survive," he told himself. And he hoped beyond all hope that
he wasn't lying to the door shut against him.
He turned, and walked away from the door.
<---===***===--->
It lay innocently on the bathroom counter, where she'd left it a
long time ago. He smiled, the ache in his eyes receding a little.
There was so much more left to do.
He reached forward and picked up the cap.
"Security," he read in a whisper. He envisioned it upon her head,
blonde ponytail thrust through it, her smile capturing him behind a
desk in an office building far away.
He bounced it in his hand.
She was going the be glad to see it, he supposed.
He glanced once more at the closed door to Nicole's bedroom,
sighing. Turning away purposely, he headed back towards the stairs.
It would be the last time that he saw this place.
He didn't want to see it anymore, and he descended the stairs, the
sound of his shoes echoing, and trembling the bedroom door behind
which the Chamber of Horrors would continue.
But only for a week.
Chapter 150
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Andrea supposed that she might have been able to drag the chair to
Kate and Leigh, and used her free hands to release them from the
knots. Leigh, in particular, looked uncomfortable.
Andrea shook her ankle, still in awe that the simple arrangement of
steel and chrome could hold her here so effectively.
"I'll be all right, it won't be long, I think," Leigh said easily.
Andrea nodded, somehow knowing that the girl would say that.
Her mind wandered to the bathroom, where Leigh had sat upon the
toilet seat, so vulnerable, so helpless while Monique and Nicole had
showered together. How Andrea had knelt, and practically begged for
sex.
Her mind wandered to pleasing Monique, and she shivered, waves of
desire flowing through her. She half-regretted not taking Monique's
offer. The former lawyer had meant it. She wanted to taste her. And
Andrea had no objection to girls. But it hadn't been right, and she
couldn't explain it. Not even to herself.
Andrea shook herself, fighting off the memory, but still desire
flitted across her nerves.
A shadow passed into her peripheral vision, and she turned her head.
He stood by the doorway, something familiar in his hand.
"I guess I'm next?" Andrea said slowly. She didn't know how she felt
about it, torn between the freedom that was here, and the freedom
that was her home.
He tossed something small and shiny towards her. Surprised,
reflexively, she raised her hand. She almost caught it, but it
bounced off her palm, off her thigh, and fell to rest near her right
foot. It was a key, and she presumed that it fit into the collar of
steel encircling her ankle. She bent and picked it up.
For the first time, he'd given her the means to escape her
restraint. She looked at him quizzically, and he nodded.
She bent, her fingers trembling. She'd been free before, he didn't
keep them tied all the time, but the simple act of releasing herself
from the chains seemed symbolic somehow.
The shackle rattled to the floor, framing her heel for a moment.
She pushed herself up, and walked towards him, her bare feet free
and unencumbered.
When she reached him, she held out the key, and he picked it up off
her outstretched palm without comment.
He lifted her baseball cap, and she smiled. She'd missed it, even
though she'd removed it for him willingly an eternity ago.
Unselfconsciously, she placed it on her head, drawing her hair
through the band with a practised ease that perhaps resulted from
simply being female. She was well aware that her movements
accentuated her breasts, and a ripple of satisfaction bounced
through her as his eyes dropped appreciatively before he caught
himself. He grinned at her, abashed.
He could have watched her nakedly all day, and she wouldn't have
cared.
He held up one last item, and she looked at it with complete
puzzlement.
"A necklace?" she asked. "You want me to wear a necklace."
It didn't look like an expensive chain, perhaps even costume
jewellery. At its apex, another silver key dangled. Suddenly, she
understood, and she bent her head. He slipped it over, and the chain
hung around her neck, intimate and close. The key rested easily
between her bared breasts. She touched the key for a moment, then
turned her eyes to his.
"Do I say good-bye, now?"
"If you wish," he said.
He turned from her then, disappearing into the hallway. He
apparently trusted that she wouldn't free Kate or Leigh.
She swivelled and paced across the carpet to the two girls. Both
found yet more tears.
"I'll miss you, two," she said. She knelt down between them, pulling
both bound girls into her, squeezing them.
"Take care of yourself," Kate whispered.
"I will."
Leigh looked at her more meaningfully.
"We should have," she said.
Andrea smiled and nodded. "We should have."
She bent and kissed them both, fighting her own tears. She didn't
want to cry. Good-byes were difficult enough without the tears.
"We went through a lot."
Kate nodded.
She bent to Kate, and whispered into her ear.
"Take care of her. For me?"
Kate nodded, almost as if she understood.
Andrea kissed them once more, then pushed herself to her feet.
Taking a deep breath, she walked away from them, and passed under
the archway.
"Good-bye," she whispered.
<---===***===--->
She held her hands lightly behind her back. He looked at her
puzzled, sunlight beaming down over them.
"You want to handcuff me, one last time, don't you? I don't mind."
He shrugged, and moved forward. As she expected, he carried a pair
of handcuffs. She had no way of knowing that these had graced
Monique's wrists until only a short time ago.
"How?"
"The key. Around my neck. Teasing and close. Your style."
He laughed, and closed the cuffs over her wrists. She pulled at
them, surprised that they weren't pressing into her skin cruelly.
Her right hand, if she squeezed her thumb inwards, could perhaps
even slip out.
"My right hand is too loose," she said.
He looked at her, appraising her. She shrugged.
"I told you, I don't mind. If you're going to put them on me, it
would be a shame if I could get out, wouldn't it?"
He nodded, and stepped behind her again. One click reached her ears,
and she tested again. The cuffs remained loose upon her wrists, but
this time, her right hand wouldn't slip through, no matter the
effort she made at making her hands smaller.
She nodded, and then stepped down the stairs. The marble radiated
warmth into her bare toes.
<---===***===--->
She sat cross-legged in the grass, her hands supporting her behind
her back. She knew that she was exposed, perhaps even unladylike,
but somehow, she didn't think he'd care. He wasn't ogling her, and
truthfully, she didn't care if he did.
Instead, a cloud formation seemed to have his attention. Somewhat
irked, she cleared her throat. He slowly brought his eyes back
towards her.
"So, what do we do now? You wave your magic wand and I return to ...
what?"
He laughed. "There is no magic wand." He hesitated, and then
captured her eyes. "What do you want, Andrea?"
She tilted her head, and laughed. "World peace."
He seemed taken aback for a moment, then he joined her laughter.
"Not the Miss America answer, what do you want. Before I send you
back."
She stopped laughing, gazing down her bare body to her knees. When
she looked up at him, she still didn't know what her lips were going
to say.
<---===***===--->
"Answers."
He leaned back against the tree, almost as if he'd expected this
from her.
"I want to understand you."
"Psychology."
"Partly. I'm a student. You know that. Obviously, I'm not a very
good security guard. I stripped for you in an instant."
"You wanted to."
She blushed, but continued, ignoring the comment, seeing its
underlying truth.
"I didn't mind," she corrected. "There's a difference."
He nodded easily.
She took a deep breath.
"Can we take these things off me?" She jingled the chains behind her
back.
"You have the key," he said.
She flushed, and bent. She was easily flexible enough. It would give
him a show, she supposed, but she could reach the key dangling
between her breasts. A yank, and a bit of finger hockey, and she'd
be free again.
She stretched, and her fingers grasped the key. Her shoulders
complained about the position, and she made it worse by not yanking
the silver tease. She sighed, and released it instead.
"It's not time, is it?"
He shrugged. "It's not my choice," he said.
She nodded, but made no further attempt to free herself. He wanted
her like this, and she could accommodate. She didn't mind.
"What happened back there?"
He laughed. "You grasped the key, and then decided not to unlock
yourself."
She flushed, and nearly growled. "That's not what I mean, and you
know it."
"No. I suppose not." He hesitated, as if he didn't know quite how
much to tell her. "Dawn's the key."
"The key?"
"Yes. She doesn't know it, but she's the key to this place. She
didn't create it, but she has to destroy it."
Andrea nodded slowly, not understanding.
"Dawn is consequence, while I'm cause. We were drawn together."
"Destiny?"
"Something like that. The universe has a sense of humour."
"Where is she?"
"Safe. Away from us, until you all are back where you belong."
"Where I belong? Where is that?"
He smiled. "Here and there. You know where you belong, Andrea.
Reality. Not here."
She shivered, and the chain jingled again. Suddenly, she very much
wanted to be free of her bonds. She almost reached for the key
again, but then settled. It was meant to be this way. Slowly, she
uncoiled her legs, pressing them together, almost with a renewed
sense of modesty. He didn't seem to notice her shift, and she
sighed.
"I don't remember what happened. Back there. I remember Dawn
stepping into the room, between us, and then all I remember is hazy
pain. Nothing more."
He hesitated again, his eyes lifting to the sky. Andrea followed his
gaze with her eyes, and the clouds seemed to shift above her. A
dragon, flying free, aroused her thoughts. After a moment, she
lowered her eyes to take him in. He was watching her again.
"She is stronger than I." It seemed to pain him to admit it.
Andrea nodded. "We all are, in a way."
He smiled, the dichotomy somewhat amusing. Here she sat, naked and
handcuffed in the grass, while he remained free and clothed. She
was stronger than he. And it warmed her.
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