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Chapter 151
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
He hadn't spoken in a while, but his eyes turned at the sound of her
voice.
"What about you?"
"Me?"
"Yes. You. Who are you? Why are we here?"
"You don't want to know about how I control time?"
She shook her head easily, her ponytail caressing the back of her
neck.
"I'm not a physics major. I wouldn't understand. Don't want to
understand. I want to understand you. Why you do this? Why you take
us? Why you took me? Why do you want to control us? Where are you
from? Do you love anybody? What your real name is? You've never
told us. Any of us."
He sighed, and looked away.
"Initially, you were pretty."
"Pretty?" Andrea said -- though the comment drove more shivers into
her body.
"Pretty. I wanted to see you. Wanted to control you."
"Why?" she whispered. The question was more general.
It took him some time to formulate an answer.
"I really don't know, Andrea. I can't answer that. Why do we
breathe? Why do we mate? Why do we survive as a species?"
She shook her head. There were textbook answers to everything, but
that didn't really apply here. No. Not at all.
"It arouses me. It's hard-wired into me."
"Into everyone," Andrea said quietly.
He looked surprised, but shook his head.
"Why didn't you rape us? You whip us, make us have sex, unsatisfied
sex," her voice lowered to emphasise the point, "you make us cater
to your every whim. It's not like we can resist. You tie us up, and
then rape us. It's not even like we'd remember after you send us
back. The perfect crime."
"It's not about rape," he said slowly. "You know that. It's not
even about breaking you."
"It's about control," Andrea said. She shifted again.
He nodded.
She wasn't sure she fully understood, but as she sat there still
handcuffed and naked, she thought that maybe she did. Somewhere
deep inside of her, she did.
<---===***===--->
She lay on her side, more comfortable that way, even with her arms
still pinned behind her bare back. The grass tickled her left
breast, but she ignored the sensation.
"They would have you, you know. It wouldn't be rape. Not anymore."
He sighed, not looking at her.
"Kate? Leigh? Perhaps."
"Me," Andrea said softly.
That got his attention, and he allowed his eyes to travel the length
of her reclining body. She watched him look at her, not protesting,
unconsciously positioning herself so that he could see her, even
slightly raising her right leg to present a hint of her secrets
between her legs. Of course, she didn't really have secrets in this
place, he'd seen her before, but this time, it was her choice, not
his.
"You?"
He tossed her head easily, a thoroughly feminine action.
"You don't want me?"
He sighed, almost looking pained. "Of course, Andrea. Of course."
She struggled for a moment, her breathing increasing. Finally, she
sat again, one leg tucked under her, the other extended towards him.
"I'm offering," she said easily. Her body ached, driving her crazy.
"I know," he said gently. "Hard to miss."
Incredibly, he shook his head. She felt tears approach, and she
blinked, trying to clear them before they fell.
"Why?" she whispered. Suddenly she regretted not releasing her
hands, but it was too late now. After a moment, the urge to strangle
him subsided.
He crawled forward, and touched her face. With surprise, she
realised that the tears had fallen, and they coated the tips of his
fingers with a silvery sheen.
"Because, you don't really want to," he said.
She wanted to scream at him. She'd saved herself, not allowing
Monique to satisfy her, believing that he was the one. Her body
screamed at her, and she began to cry more, twisting her face from
him, not allowing his burning fingers to touch her.
She cried for a while, her body aching, and protesting, her wrists
twisting in their prison.
When she turned back towards him, he was leaning up against the tree
again. His eyes were on her lap, but when she turned, he raised them
to her face.
"You've never had sex before, have you?" he asked.
Her face flushed, and she gasped.
"How ..."
"Dare I?"
She swallowed, surprise easing her tears.
"How did you know?"
He smiled, and crawled forward again, gathering her in.
"I didn't. Until just now."
"I've had sex," she whispered.
He held her easily, and she allowed it. Her body still ached.
"Intercourse?"
She couldn't admit it. She shook her head slowly. Oral sex.
Pleasure at her own fingertips. Even anal sex, once, on a dare.
He seemed able to let it go, and she tried. Finally, she looked up
at him, her vision blurred with moisture.
"How often does one get to lose her virginity twice?"
He shook his head, and laughed gently.
"Point taken, but I'm not the right one for you."
"There isn't anyone else," she said. It was true enough. This
universe was populated with naked females, driving her crazy, and
him. There truly wasn't anyone else.
"That's never a good reason," he said gently.
She lay back into him, acutely aware of her body, clenching. She
ached, but it would be all right. Somehow.
<---===***===--->
"Who are you?"
She still lay in his arms, her breathing slowly returning to a
semblance of normal.
"You don't want to know," he said.
She didn't understand. After he'd freed her, she wouldn't remember
anything, would she? He'd shared nearly everything else with her,
saved her, even.
"But ..."
He shook his head, and placed a finger against her lips. His
fingers burned there, electric shocks flowing through her nerves.
Slowly, she nodded. Like a one night stand, or a fleeting lover, she
didn't need to know. His name would only hurt her.
<---===***===--->
"Promise me that you won't hurt them," Andrea whispered.
They stood facing one another, one clothed, one naked, one cuffed,
the other free. The tears had stopped a while back, even if the ache
hadn't.
He nodded easily.
"It's over. I don't control any of you anymore."
She twisted her hands in the cuffs, and then looked at him. He
nodded, though it wasn't a nod of permission, merely a nod that
acknowledged what she already knew.
Again, she was very aware of her nudity, the sunshine upon her bare
skin. But for a moment, she wished that she stood here in a dress,
even without underwear, or shoes. Then she twisted, aware of his
eyes upon her. He'd wanted her to do this, ever since he'd placed
the necklace about her neck.
The clasp parted behind her neck as she tugged at the silver key.
She allowed a triumphant grin to grace her lips, and her hands fell
back behind her back.
"You're just going to let me take them off," she said, more a
statement than a question.
"I don't control you anymore, Andrea," he said.
She sighed, and fumbled with the key behind her back. The necklace
slipped through the tiny hole in the key, to tumble to the grass
near her feet winking like bright stars in the sunlight. The key
remained safely between her fingers.
Twice, the key resisted her attempts, then slid home almost teasing
her animately. She hesitated for a moment, watching him watch her.
She closed her eyes and twisted her hand.
The lock clicked, and the steel fell from her skin. She smiled, and
drew her hands in front of her, fingers flexing, the cuffs dangling
from her right arm.
The handcuffs clattered to her feet, one band resting against her
bare foot. She idly moved them with a nudge of her toe.
"It's time," she said easily. She held her arms out from her body,
relishing her freedom.
<---===***===--->
"Wait," she said. For a moment, she didn't think the tingling would
recede, but it did, leaving her more or less substantial in this
universe. She shivered, and then stepped forward closing the gap
between them.
She kissed him, her lips on his, her tongue touching his skin. For a
moment, perhaps in surprise, he didn't react. Then he kissed her
back, his hands brushing at her breasts, then moving to her waist.
She moaned, then pushed him away, her body aching more than she
thought she could stand.
She bowed her head, and moved away, back to where the grass lay
still limp and crushed by her earlier position. When she gazed at
him, his eyes were wet with his tears.
He was correct, of course, no matter how much she might think she
wanted it, she didn't.
Slowly, she smiled, and moved her hands behind her, a parting
gesture to why she was here. To him, it might appear that her hands
were still secured there, despite the evidence of the chrome
sparkling at her feet.
"I'll wear them, if you want. And I will give myself to you, if you
want me."
He smiled, and seemed to draw breath consciously, almost trying to
breathe in her essence. He shook his head.
"Not necessary," he said easily.
She watched his face for a moment.
"Good-bye," she said.
The tingling returned, kissing her bare body, eliciting an
inadvertent gasp. It spread in a warm glow from her fingers, through
her body, to her toes. She managed to smile, releasing her hands,
and holding them outward from her again, a bird in flight, face
uptilted into the sunlight. And then she was falling, darkness
embracing her.
Chapter 152
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
He helped her up, uncharacteristically quiet. Leigh sighed inwardly,
and helped with her legs as he supported her arms. Her shoulders
screamed at the discomfort of the ropes, shades of the morning's
activities echoing through her body.
He bent and released her ankle from the shackle there, and she
slowly stepped away from the sofa. He guided her towards the
entranceway, and when she turned there, Kate was watching her,
sitting alone, her legs tucked up underneath her.
The Timeman tugged on her, fingers laced into the rope near her
right breast. It was uncomfortable, but she hesitated.
Kate mouthed: "Good-bye," to her, but it seemed wrong. Leigh shook
her head, sure somehow, that it wasn't.
She cast a glance at Kate, trying to make her understand, but the
redhead's eyes were clouded with tears, and Leigh wasn't sure if
Kate had seen.
The tug came more insistently, and Leigh sighed, her bare feet
following, her thighs complaining.
She felt almost like she was being led to a firing squad. All she
lacked was a blindfold, but she was somehow sure that he would
provide one, if she asked.
<---===***===--->
She sat quietly in the kitchen chair. Her arms still ached, and she
idly wondered why he'd put her here, refusing to answer her
questions, and refusing to untie her arms.
"They hurt," she said simply.
He didn't answer her, and merely gazed into her eyes from the
opposite side of the kitchen table. Abruptly, he rose, and extracted
two glasses from a cupboard above the sink. He drew two glasses of
water from the tap, downing one before returning and placing the
other in front of her. Leigh shrugged as best she could, more pain
screaming through her limbs with the gesture.
Almost gently, he raised the glass to her lips. She kept her mouth
closed for a moment, then melted, opening her lips and drinking
deeply. She hadn't even realised that she was thirsty. She flexed
her fingers. Thankfully, they still moved.
He returned to his seat, watching her, almost expecting her to say
something.
She was acutely aware of her nudity, that he sat across from her
fully clothed while she sat completely naked, and helpless.
"You let the others go, didn't you?"
He nodded once.
"Are you going to let Kate and I go, too?" she asked. It had been in
the back of her mind since he'd taken her, in a school that she
barely remembered, when she had taken clothing for granted, and
simply been a teenaged girl with teenager problems. Loves lost,
misunderstood family, and grades.
"Soon," he said. It had been the first word that he'd uttered since
bringing her here. She shifted in the chair, her bare toes curled
against the cool ceramic under them.
"I'm not sure I want to go," she said.
He laughed a little, tilting his head.
"You're a slave here," he said. The word made her blush, but she
shifted again and shook her head.
"I've never been a slave. Not yours. Not anyone's."
He nodded, as if he agreed with her. She wasn't sure of her own
words.
"Will you at least let me say good-bye to Kate?"
He shrugged, and she took that to mean that he didn't care. She
almost pushed herself back to her feet.
"You love her, don't you?"
The question seemed to come from left field, and she started, and
then stared at him.
"Kate?"
He nodded, his hands pressed together in front of him. His chair
creaked in the silence.
"She's a girl."
He smiled, and for a moment, she thought he was leering. But his
words belied that sentiment.
"You can't love a girl?"
Leigh held her breath for a moment, and wished for the millionth
time that her arms weren't tied behind her. Her entire body ached.
(For what?)
She raised her eyes again, aware that wetness lined her lids.
(No crying. Not here.)
"I just want to say good-bye to her. She's my friend. And I don't
know if we'll ever discover that ... away from here."
He leaned back in the chair, an appraising look on his face.
"Do you want me to beg?"
He shook his head.
"Do you want me to have sex with you before you let me say good-bye?
Is that what you're waiting for?"
He smiled, and shook his head again. He looked like a mystic,
someone with all the answers but none shared. She shook her head
frustrated.
"I would, you know. Have sex with you. Any way you want."
"Any way I want?"
"Yes," she said. Her body ached even more. "I've told you that
before, and I meant it."
He tilted his head, and looked at her until she looked away, unable
to sit any longer under that gaze. It peered past her eyes, and into
her mind.
"Have you ever had sex before?"
She swivelled her head sharply.
"You've never asked that before. I know how to do it, okay? And I
will. Gladly."
Instead of answering, he pushed himself up again. She thought for a
moment that he was going to simply refill her glass. Instead, he
knelt beside her, and touched her bare thighs. She mistook it for a
touch of intimacy. A flush rose to her cheeks, and she slowly began
to spread her knees. She shivered and closed her eyes.
"Leigh, both legs, please."
She opened her eyes, and moaned. He wasn't staring between her
spread legs as she'd supposed, his fingers nowhere near her.
Embarrassed, she shifted her left leg to join her right, setting her
ankles together, almost in a parody of modesty.
She shivered as he tied her ankles together. It wasn't tight, not
even lashed, but secure. She wasn't about to pull her feet through
the loops, and walking would be impossible. She could hop, she
supposed, as long as he didn't tether her anywhere.
He leaned on her knees, his eyes on her eyes, not between her legs.
"Leigh?"
She was crying now, confused, off-balance. She was sure that was
exactly what he wanted, but she couldn't help it. Her arms hurt, and
her body wanted something. Anything.
"What?" she almost spat at him.
"You can't stay."
She shivered. "I know that."
He hesitated, and then rose and moved to the kitchen door.
"Don't leave me like this. I'm begging you."
He paused, and turned almost as an afterthought. It wasn't, and she
knew that, but it made it no easier to comprehend.
"If Kate asked you, would you love her?"
Leigh swallowed, and pulled against her arms. Her mind whirled, and
she felt like crying.
(I don't want to cry. Please.)
But the tears came anyway, and she was left staring at the swinging
door. She pulled weakly against the ropes that held her, and then
settled.
If Kate asked her. Would she love her?
Chapter 153
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"Is she gone?" Kate asked. She pulled against the ropes holding her
arms folded uncomfortably behind her.
"Leigh? No. Not yet."
Relief flooded into Kate, and she glanced around the room, almost as
if expecting the girl to bounce into the room, aglow.
"Where is she?"
"In the kitchen."
Kate nodded, though she was confused. He stood easily against the
doorframe to the living room, watching her. He moved suddenly,
settling into the couch across from her. Kate shook her right leg,
the one that was attached to the sofa leg by a short length of
chain.
"I have to take you both home," he said.
His words hurt her more than she thought. While it wasn't always
pleasant here, she was getting used to the nudity, and the bondage,
and the ... freedom.
"I'm not sure I want to go," she whispered.
"That's what Nicole said, too."
Kate shivered. "It's over, isn't it?"
He nodded, his eyes misty.
"So what happens now?"
Instead of answering her, he moved towards her and crouched behind.
She relaxed, and twisted to help him. Soon, her arms fell free. A
tingling edged into her fingers, and she hissed, bracing for the
inrush of blood and awakening nerves, her morning serving as a
warning. But it didn't come, at least not like it had before he'd
whipped her breasts. The pain eased through her, and when she opened
her eyes, he again sat across from her.
Now, she could have risen and sat on the sofa behind her, but she
opted to stay where she was, leaning back, relishing the easy
comfort of the cushions where her arms had been held before. She
looked over at him, almost asking permission that she sensed that
she no longer needed.
He nodded anyway, and she reached behind her and pulled a cushion
down, propping it behind her back.
"So that's it? Been nice whipping you, off you go?"
He looked pained at her words, and she whispered: "I'm sorry, I
didn't mean ..." before she could stop herself.
"No, Kate. It's fair. This place, it changes us. Me."
She nodded. Somehow, she understood.
"Is this where I get raped?"
He looked up at her, frowning. "What?"
She laughed easily, suddenly at ease.
"It won't be rape. I'll gladly lie back, if you want."
"What if I want your mouth."
In response, she opened her mouth, and closed her eyes. She
shivered, half-expecting to feel him between her lips, but it was
only him shifting across the room.
"I'm joking, Kate."
She was truly surprised at the depth of the disappointment that
flowed through her, ending in her belly.
"What if I want to?" she said.
"You don't want to. Not with me."
Her breasts ached, and she felt like screaming at him. What did he
know of what she wanted? What gave him the right to deny her, reject
her?
Instead, she swallowed and let her lips close, slowly nodding.
"What do you want?" he asked after a while.
<---===***===--->
Her fingers worked at the knots encircling Leigh's bare ankles,
unwrapping the ropes as quickly as she could. Leigh cried softly
above, in the chair, squirming.
Kate closed her eyes, aware that he was watching her, aware that she
was naked, that Leigh was naked, that her world was changing with
every segment of rope that unwrapped from Leigh's skin.
Carefully, she lifted Leigh's bare foot, butterflies racing through
her senses. She pressed her lips to the top, fully expecting Leigh
to withdraw -- she wasn't tied anymore, could stand up and scream,
if she wanted.
Instead, she felt a quiver in Leigh's leg, but that was all. She
released her, and rose up on her knees. Leigh's eyes leaked tears,
down her cheeks.
"We're free," Kate whispered.
"I'll never be free," Leigh mumbled.
Kate let her hands rest on Leigh's bare thighs, nothing sexual, but
electricity seemed to jump from Leigh into her through her
fingertips. She lifted herself, and let her lips find Leigh, not
caring if he was watching her, not caring if it aroused him. He
could have her, if he wanted, even though she was free, she'd still
let him. But he wouldn't. Of that she was equally sure.
Leigh hesitated, then kissed her back, at first mechanically, then
with more passion.
Kate broke the kiss, then fell back on her bare heels.
"Leigh?"
Leigh raised her eyes. Tears still brimmed there.
"It wasn't him."
Leigh looked puzzled, leaned down, her forearms replacing the warmth
of where Kate's hands had been.
"It wasn't him. I kissed you ..." Leigh waited, her eyes wet. "...
because I wanted to."
Slowly, Kate pushed herself to her bare feet, and held out her hand.
Leigh hesitated for a moment, then visibly relaxed her guard. She
reached forward and Kate shivered when their hands met.
<---===***===--->
"Stay. You can watch. I don't mind," she said.
He bent and kissed her face, once on each cheek, almost like a
European.
"I'll be in the living room, when you're done," he said simply. Then
he turned away.
"Thank you," she said, unable to move to follow.
His back receded towards the house, and then another figure appeared
in her blurred vision, naked and desirable.
<---===***===--->
She twisted her right hand, aware that her freedom had disappeared
again, but had been replaced with a different kind. Her body
strained against the ropes that held her, but when she looked up,
she smiled, hoping that it might erase the look of doubt upon
Leigh's face.
She stood spread, so vulnerable, against the front gate, sunlight
beating down on her bare skin. She shivered, despite the warmth and
tried to ignore the butterflies racing through her belly.
Leigh carried his whip in her right hand, awkward and unsure, its
coils of leather unwinding down her bare legs like a nest of
serpents, kissing the tops of her feet.
"I'm not sure I can do this," Leigh whispered.
"If you can't ..."
"I'll try," Leigh said, her eyes shiny again.
Kate nodded. Where had this come from in her? She didn't know. All
she knew was that she felt safer here, naked and bound, powerless,
erotic. Her hips rocked, and she willed them to stop.
Leigh dropped the whip with a clatter to the stones. She bent and
picked up the last remaining length of rope. She looked at it like
it was a cobra about to bite her.
Kate waited, her mind peaceful.
<---===***===--->
The rope squeezed her, Leigh's fingers light and sensuous against
the taut skin of her breasts. Her mind wandered to a pillar, where
she'd stood helpless as he'd bound her, and then crashed the whip
against her again and again, her body reacting in pain and arousal,
the arousal overcoming the pain in a litany of protection.
"Are you sure?"
Kate nodded, feeling the tears starting even before Leigh touched
her with that thing.
"I trust you."
Leigh left, and then returned, the whip cradled in her arms. She
touched the end of it to Kate's chin. Kate wanted to kiss the
leather, her bound breasts aching, screaming at her to lower her
head and touch it.
She didn't.
Leigh's face flushed, and for the first time, Kate noticed that she
was trembling.
"I want to," Leigh whispered. Then after a moment, she closed her
eyes. "I want you."
Kate closed her eyes, and pulled once against the ropes holding her
wrists and ankles. The metal of the gate seeped soothing coolness
into her bare back.
<---===***===--->
Her technique was less polished than that of the Timeman, her aim
less accurate, the strength far less.
Kate didn't really want the searing pain of her last experience with
the whip, but rather the warming closeness, and the helplessness,
and the trust.
It hurt, but she was able to keep herself from screaming, sure that
if she did, Leigh would drop the whip. Her breathing came in sharp
rasps, as her breasts warmed her from the inside. She trembled,
dripping, and nearly crying out not in pain, but frustration.
The whip hit her again, across the nipples. It was Leigh that hissed
at that, empathising, and crying out.
"I'm sorry, Kate. God," Leigh said, her voice only a little above a
whisper.
"Hit me," Kate whispered. And Leigh did. Once more.
Kate cried out, finally, as her breasts screamed as the leather
kissed her again.
<---===***===--->
"Are you sure?"
Kate nodded. Tears ran down her face, and she wanted to be let down.
But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
She closed her eyes, bracing.
The whip rose up on a short arc, and struck her between her
trembling thighs, some of the soft leather parting her and striking
her.
The pain slipped into her, and she heard her own voice, as though
from a distance, crying out -- not screaming -- only crying out.
Tears fell down her cheeks.
"Again," she whispered.
But Leigh didn't hit her again, and she slumped into her ropes, her
legs no longer supporting her.
<---===***===--->
Leigh's skin reminded her of fields of clover. Even the sweet scent
of clover drifted across them as they tumbled to the ground.
Leigh shifted herself to straddle Kate.
Kate opened her eyes, falling into Leigh's.
"I'm sorry," Leigh whispered.
Kate's body ached, but it was a good ache. Her breasts screamed as
Leigh's fingers lightly brushed at the underside, avoiding the
nipples. Kate moaned.
"Thank-you," Kate whispered. "Thank-you."
<---===***===--->
The grass tickled her thighs. Kate nearly screamed as Leigh's tongue
slipped between her lips, teasing and light.
Above her, Leigh knelt.
Taste her. God.
Kate lifted her head, and allowed her tongue to slip between Leigh's
lips, intimate, close. Her fingers rose to brush at Leigh's nipples.
So wet. So close.
Moving together, she heard, and felt, Leigh moan.
It didn't take long.
<---===***===--->
Three days of exposure and torment exploded in one fiery moment of
ecstasy. The moon and the sun vibrated as her body clenched to the
rhythm of Leigh's tongue and lips.
She didn't scream, but she did moan, her hips rocking, her toes
curling into the grass.
To the right, a squirrel stopped for a moment, perhaps finally
curious of the strange tangle of limbs invading its world.
<---===***===--->
Oh, God.
Kate's tongue and lips found her rhythm as easily as if it were her
own fingers down there, stroking, slipping, thrusting, coaxing what
she swore she wouldn't do from her, helpless to stop it.
Had it been whipping Kate? Surely not.
Had it been Kate, herself? Perhaps.
Had it been her own torment, over days. Tied to a basketball net?
Naked, sexuality surrounding her, denied pleasure.
The wave crested, washing over her, taking her by surprise.
"Oh, God," she moaned.
<---===***===--->
They lay together for a long time, their arms protection from the
world, their toes touching in a gesture far more intimate than what
they'd done moments before.
"I don't want to go home. I don't want to forget," Kate whispered.
She felt Leigh's fingers in her hair, softly stroking.
"I think," Leigh said slowly, "I hope."
Kate shivered, and twisted, her lips searching for a kiss. Leigh
smiled, and found her lips, her scent filling Kate.
"We'll find each other. Somehow."
She lay back down, enjoying Leigh's arms, while she still could.
Chapter 154
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"Please," Kate whispered.
She stood at the edge of the garden, Leigh standing beside her, her
skin close and still desirable. Despite the climax, Kate still
ached. She suspected that Leigh did, too.
He slowly shook his head, a model of abject sadness.
She believed him. He wanted to stay, even desperately, but it was
dangerous. To the girls. To him, but more so for the girls.
She shivered. Leigh's hand stole to her and grasped her lightly.
Kate entwined her fingers into Leigh's and held her.
"It's not fair," Kate said, nearly pouting but unable to help it.
"Life isn't sometimes."
"We've only just found ..."
He nodded. Something occurred to her, and she looked up, hope
gleaming on her face.
"You could ... the school ... find Leigh ... and me ..."
He slowly shook his head.
"Don't you see? That's exactly why I have to take you back, even if
I don't want to, even if I want nothing more than to let you and
Leigh keep finding each other."
"But ..."
"You want it here -- but here isn't real. It's a fantasy."
"I feel ..."
"I know. I know. But take yourself back. If a strange guy came up to
you in the school yard while you were sitting under a tree, and
said, don't sweat Darren, take a closer look at the quiet girl in
your math class, what would you do?"
"I'd take her to dinner and a movie, maybe up to my room afterwards.
I could. My parents wouldn't care. She's a girl."
He smiled, and stepped closer to her. Leigh's hand tightened upon
hers.
"Remember where you were when I found you," he said.
"I was. I was sitting under a tree in the front of the school."
"Because ..."
"Because Darren chose Karen, not me."
He let it sink in.
"I don't want to lose her."
Leigh whispered beside her. "I don't either."
He shook his head, and smiled.
"If it was meant to be, then you'll find each other. It's the way it
works."
Kate wasn't so sure of that. She bowed her head, and couldn't help
the tears.
"You could try," she whispered.
"I can't, Kate. Even if I wanted to. It wouldn't be a fantasy here
if I did. It's wrong."
(What the hell do you know about right and wrong?)
(He's sending me back, isn't he?)
Kate shivered, and raised her eyes to his.
"I don't want to go back."
He nodded.
"I know."
<---===***===--->
She wept openly, her arms hugging Leigh. She felt wetness from
Leigh's tears upon her shoulder as she held her, shaking.
It had been a long three days, torments, and frustration, nudity,
and adventure. It was over.
"I'll try to remember," she whispered.
"And me as well," Leigh said slowly.
The girls separated, and joined hands.
She faced the Timeman, her chin lifted.
"We would have, you know," she said carefully. But inside, she now
cringed at the idea. It was the simple truth, though.
He nodded. "It wouldn't have been right."
(No. It wouldn't.)
<---===***===--->
She turned, and let her lips touch Leigh's. It was a soft kiss. A
chaste kiss. A shared kiss.
"Good-bye," she whispered.
Leigh smiled.
"Good-bye."
Tears fell unheeded down her face, and she reached up to brush at
Leigh's cheeks, her fingers lifting from her soft skin with salty
moisture.
They both turned and waved towards the Timeman who stood, eyes
averted a few short paces from them. She was surprised to see tears
falling down his face, as openly as hers.
<---===***===--->
Tingles raced through her arms, and then down her body. She
concentrated, trying to burn the memories into her mind, hoping that
some faint imprint might remain in the last few seconds. She felt a
faint squeeze through her fingers. She wasn't alone.
The tingles raced down, like gentle pins and needles. And then she
was falling, holding hands. Darkness engulfed her.
Chapter 155
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
She closed her eyes, the darkness unchanging whether her eyes were
open or shut. She blinked, groggy.
Her breasts ached, as if someone had whipped them. Between her legs
pulsed slowly, a heat waxing and waning. She could feel tongues and
fingers there, caressing her.
She moaned again, suddenly angry at the handcuffs, angry at herself
for waiting like a damnable slave for him.
(I'm saving them. Somehow.)
She relaxed and tilted back her head.
<---===***===--->
The visions flipped into her, almost like a dream, images from the
past, but strong and complete, colourful, and arousing.
<---===***===--->
Nicole danced alone, beckoning her, a squirrel chasing its tail,
scampering bold and certain between Nicole's ankles.
Freedom, and sunshine.
<---===***===--->
Monique moaned in ecstasy, her fingers entwined in Andrea's hair,
holding her close, rocking her hips towards Andrea's sweet mouth. A
shaft of sunshine peeked through the closed blinds to kiss her
breasts, shiny with perspiration and passion.
Freedom, and sunshine.
<---===***===--->
Andrea stood smiling and naked upon the grass. She passed her hands
behind her, miming security and control. Sunlight lit her shoulders.
She tingled, and faded, into another time, another place.
Freedom, and sunshine.
<---===***===--->
Both of them stood, tears falling slowly down their faces, kissing
gently. Dawn felt the kiss of leather upon her breasts, her hands
rattling her handcuffs, aching. The whip lay coiled about Leigh's
ankles, Kate bound with course rope to the gate out front of the
mansion. Sunlight glinted off Kate's red hair like a flame.
Freedom, and sunshine.
<---===***===--->
The darkness faded, and she opened her eyes. There was a difference
now, the void in front of her lit dimly from above. He stood over
her, a shape in the darkness.
She pulled up her legs, groaning as they complained. She couldn't
remember the last time she'd slept sitting on a packed earthen
floor. Her shoulders ached, and her thighs cried out.
Such strange dreams.
"Are you all right? I'm sorry it took so long," he whispered.
She blinked, and shook her head, her hair tickling her shoulders and
back. She tried to rise, and fell back, lightly cursing under her
breath. She'd forgotten the handcuffs.
"Give me a moment," she breathed. She sensed him back away.
"What happened to the light?" he asked quietly.
She leaned forward, feeling sick.
(I don't want to throw up. Not here. Not yet.)
"Shattered."
He didn't ask how, perhaps sensing within her a reluctance to help
him understand.
He stepped forward, and a shard of light bulb shattered like a shot
under his runner. He cringed, but leaned close. He gently lifted
her, and she relaxed, her hands pressed between her back and his
arms.
"You'd cut your feet to ribbons," he murmured.
He set her back on her feet at the base of the stairs. She wavered a
moment, then caught her balance.
"That's what I was concerned about, too."
She looked up the stairs. They rose like a passage to heaven. She
wouldn't miss the cellar. Not in the slightest. But it had been
necessary, hadn't it?
"Are they gone?"
"Completely," he said. She sensed a deep sadness in his voice, far
beyond anything that she'd expected.
She turned to look at him, but the dimness of the place concealed
his features from her. She thought she saw a hint of moisture upon
his cheek, but he turned away before she could look closer.
With a sigh, she placed one bare foot onto the rough plank that
served as stairs, rising for the last time from the grave.
<---===***===--->
"Do you want clothes?" he asked her.
It didn't matter anymore. She was naked, he'd seen her this way --
he'd seen her frustrated, and screaming. There wasn't much to hide.
It seemed frivolous.
He faltered, and touched the railing. They stood in the silent
foyer. She kept expecting a feminine voice murmuring out of the
living room, or bare feet whispering across marble. But there was
none. She could sense that, only two tennis balls spinning lazily in
the haze somewhere beyond the realm of her normal vision -- her and
him alone in the universe.
The only female here was her, now; she sensed it as clearly as she
could see the stairs rising onto the second floor, or see her bare
toes curled into the marble under her feet. She rattled her
handcuffs, almost to remind her that she was still wearing them.
"Nicole has jeans and shirts, I'm sure they'd fit you," he said.
She shook her head, and he looked away from her.
He fished around in a pocket and made to step around her.
Again she shook her head.
"It doesn't matter," she said. "I've worn them this long."
He looked absurdly grateful, and put the key back into his pocket.
<---===***===--->
They walked together through the garden. She was aware of her
nakedness, as she was his attire, but it didn't bother her any more.
The grass beneath her feet caressed her bare skin, sending shivers
down her spine.
They stopped at the elm, and Dawn sighed, slowly kneeling and then
finding her customary position in the grass.
She looked up. The dragon still seemed to retreat from the girl. He
settled across from her against the elm tree.
"Will we ever meet again?" Dawn asked quietly.
He still didn't look at her, regarding the sky instead.
"I don't know, Dawn."
They were quiet again. A gentle breeze, like a lovers fingers,
caressed her breasts, sparking desire deep in her being.
"I'm not sure how this is supposed to end," she said.
"Me, either."
She hesitated, her mind warring with her body. Her thighs trembled
for a moment, gooseflesh rising despite the warmth of the air.
"I would have had sex with you," she said at last. "Still would. I
don't mind. It wouldn't be rape. Not between us."
He nodded as though understanding. He lowered his eyes from the
clouds to capture her eyes. Slowly, he shook his head.
"I want to, with you more than the others."
"I'm the last woman on Earth," she said, a smile finding its way to
her lips.
He laughed. "I think, that we were -- meant to find each other."
"I know."
"And," he said slowly, "you're so beautiful sitting there."
"Naked."
"No, you'd be beautiful with your clothes or without them. It
doesn't matter. There's something more."
She shivered, and drew her knees up. She awkwardly propped her chin
on her knees, aware that he wasn't looking at her anyway, but rather
over her shoulder, far away.
"I'd make love to you," she said in a whisper.
Again, he shook his head, tears shining there, but not spilling.
"It's over," he said at last, pushing himself up.
Her breasts moaned, and her vagina clenched, unspoken desire racing
through her body. She waiting, and tried to ignore his touch as he
helped her to her feet.
"Where are we going?" she asked as they began to walk.
"Home," he answered. "I hope."
<---===***===--->
"I shouldn't be here," she said.
He stood across from her, his hands clasped in front of him. He
shook his head.
"It's dangerous. This place, it ..."
"Fantasy," she said slowly.
"Yes. Not real, but real enough."
"What is fantasy?"
He paused for a moment, then lowered his eyes to find hers again.
"Consequences."
She nodded slowly, and let her breath out. The handcuffs jingled
behind her back.
"Are you sure you don't want ..."
He nodded, though she thought that if she asked him again, he might
take her. She pressed her lips together and sighed. She didn't ask
again.
"I'm consequences."
"You control time."
She nodded. She could sense his time bubble, but it had shrunk to a
proportionally sized spinning tennis ball, weary and exhausted,
holding a universe upon its shoulders. It was no longer a planet,
or a sun, or a galaxy, but only slightly larger than hers, as he was
slightly larger than she was physically, spinning through pink haze.
She sensed threads spinning around her, entwining, separating,
beginning and ending.
"I'm not supposed to be here."
He sighed, and looked at her again.
"I think, maybe you are."
<---===***===--->
"We can't meet ... over there," he said.
She nodded. "I don't even know who you are."
"It's better that way. Consequences."
(He knows who you are.)
"I won't seek you," she said slowly. But she didn't know if that was
the strict truth. Everywhere she'd look, she'd see him, in crowd, in
theatres, on buses.
"And I can't seek you," he said. And she believed him. Perhaps, it
would be more dangerous for him to seek her than for her to seek
him. She didn't understand why, but she sensed the truth in it.
She looked up, her eyes wet with tears.
"This is the end, isn't it?"
He nodded.
"It has to be."
Indeed. It had to be.
<---===***===--->
She felt the touch of his time bubble against her, intimate and
close. A lovers finger slid gently over her nipple, and then down
her tummy to her thigh. She sighed, and pulled against her
handcuffs, her wrists twisting gently, squirming.
Automatically, she willed her reaction back, not wanting to push
against his influence, letting him reach into the waves of time,
leaving her to ride. Her body clamoured at her, begging for release,
begging for some sort of satisfaction.
The universe wavered for a moment, and she felt tingles in her
fingertips; then it snapped back, with almost an audible snap.
"I can't," he said softly.
<---===***===--->
She closed her eyes, seeing herself as he did, a petite girl, naked,
surrounded by a field of grass, her bare feet planted firmly, her
wrists captured behind her back.
She gathered the threads around her, ignoring the steady beat of her
pulse in her breasts and between her legs. She cried out, her voice
projected to the uncaring blue sky above. It hurt, but it didn't.
She trembled, feeling his bubble dwarfing under hers, dissolving.
His to create, hers to destroy.
She thought she heard the sigh of five girls in her ears, Nicole,
Monique, Andrea, Leigh and Kate.
Through the mists, she saw his image waver, and then he smiled.
"Until next time, little one," he said, his voice more in her head,
than in the air between them.
Then he faded, and she sensed tingling in her hands. The symbolic
handcuffs fell from her wrists, but didn't touch the grass,
dissolved as if a whirlpool had sucked them into oblivion.
She cried out, not in pain, but in wonder, as the tingling spread to
her arms, and into her body, warming her, lighting the darkness.
She felt herself falling into a bottomless void.
"It's over," she whispered. "I am the key."
Chapter 156
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Rachel looked up, a wisp of puzzlement crossing her features. For a
moment, she thought that she saw two women, girls, really, standing
nude in front of the desk. The Westin symbol seemed to waver for a
moment, then solidified.
"Can I ..."
She stopped herself, her hand rising to touch her lips. Help you?
She shook her head, and reached for the telephone. It buzzed
conspiratorially in her hand, and she closed her eyes for a moment.
She dialled. He picked it up on the third ring, sleepy and
disoriented.
"Hello?"
She smiled, and breathed heavily into the phone, looking around to
ensure that nobody was paying attention to her. Nobody was.
"Hey lover," she whispered. "When I get home, you're getting lucky."
She hung up, her breasts aching.
<---===***===--->
The strawberry tingled against her tongue as she lay her head back.
Bubbles surrounded her, and gentle sprays of water caressed her skin
beneath. She opened her mouth, waiting. A grape, as sweet as wine,
exploded as she sank her molars into it.
She opened her eyes, expecting Dawn to kiss her, but she started as
she saw Mark.
The feeling faded as quickly as it came, like a dream. The emotions
remained, but Linda couldn't place their source any longer.
"Hey, lover girl," Mark whispered. His fingers touched her face, and
she raised her own hand, bubbles and all, to interlace with his
fingers.
She smiled, not understanding the flush that had touched her body,
but knowing exactly how to satiate it. She pushed herself up out of
the hot tub, ignoring the plate of fruit from which he was feeding
her.
He glanced at her, looked away, then returned his eyes to drape down
her nude body. He watched him mentally strip away the bubbles.
"Not again," he groaned in mock exasperation.
"It is the day after my wedding, and it is the honeymoon suite ..."
she whispered. She took his hand. For some reason, she tried to
imagine him as a girl. Couldn't.
"Sweets, I'm tired," he said. But he was grinning.
"Tired?"
He nodded, still mischievous.
She sighed. "I can take care of myself, you know ..." She let her
hand drift down her breast, circling her nipple, which tingled at
her touch.
He reached up and grasped her hand, and playfully tugged her from
the tub. She dripped all over the tiles, and yelped playfully. She
lay down, still wet, and slippery.
He grinning and reached down to touch her. She lifted her breasts
into his touch.
"I'm glad you're back," she whispered to him.
<---===***===--->
Kelly glanced around the hardware store, and pressed her legs
together. She sighed, and called over a few aisles.
"Walt? Can you cover for me?"
Walt rounded the corner, a middle aged man that she always had
suspected might have actually liked her if she didn't paint herself
up.
A tingle ran through her, and she stepped from behind the cash
register, passing him.
She walked quickly up the aisle, stopping for a moment beside where
the clothespins lay, innocently regarding her from the bin.
She shivered, and a sudden thought flit through her mind: What might
those feel like on her nipples? She turned away, frightened, but
not.
She paced up the hallway, and entered the ladies room with a sigh.
She didn't have to go -- she didn't even glance at the stalls.
Tilting her head, she stared at her image in the mirror.
Suddenly, she didn't even know who she was anymore. She turned on
the taps, and squirted soap into her hands.
Moments later, her face still drying, she slipped back out into the
hallway. She felt naked, without the everpresent piercings, her
eyebrows bare, her nose stud jingling in her pocket. The patrons of
the mall didn't really know her, and none remarked on her new
appearance.
"Walt?"
The man looked up, his eyes widening. Then a smile graced his lips,
warming her.
"Kelly? My, God."
<---===***===--->
Sandra let the phone fall slowly to its cradle. A sense of deja vu
suffused her, and she slowly pushed herself up from behind the desk.
She paced to the door, opening it with care, almost as if she were
afraid that the boogeyman might jump from behind, tearing at her
clothing, raping her.
Where did those thoughts come from? she wondered.
She peered out, unease settling through her body. It seemed like it
emanated from the lab. She shook her head, and returned to her desk.
Her breasts ached, and she wanted sex. It didn't make any sense. She
ignored the sensations, and tried to concentrate on the work she
had. She had to get funding for the lab.
<---===***===--->
The blonde girl behind the desk seemed eerily familiar.
His bike shoes clicked against the floor in the awkward rhythm of
his walk. Her name tag said: Andrea.
He smiled, and smoothed his hair.
"Hi, Andrea. Delivery for the 42nd floor."
The girl looked up, slightly dazed. She smiled, and reached for the
clipboard.
"Don't I know you from somewhere?" he said.
His mind filled with a vision of the girl naked, and he shook his
head, trying to clear it. She was staring at him as though she had
seen his thoughts, and she was disgusted by it. He'd heard of
undressing women with his mind, had even done it before. But this
...
"That's original," Andrea said easily, and handed back the
clipboard. The courier scratched his head, and stepped away from the
desk. The girl returned her attention to a thick textbook in front
of her, sighing.
The image faded quickly, and by the time he reached the 42nd floor
lobby, he had nearly forgotten the security guard. Except for her
eyes.
<---===***===--->
Suki's foot met the sidewalk with a resounding click, the high heels
aching on her feet. The sounds of traffic, and noon hour
conversations surrounded her.
She automatically translated some of them into Mandarin, smiling as
one woman described her honeymoon as she stepped from a taxi.
Suki glanced up, the Westin towering overhead. She stopped, suddenly
feeling eyes on her. Somewhere.
She tilted her head. A guard, or a bellboy, she couldn't tell which
was leering at her from the lobby. If his tongue had been any
further out of his mouth, he would have been mopping the floor with
it.
She sighed; it wasn't an unusual reaction. She knew that she was
pretty, even if she wasn't a supermodel.
She glanced around, and fought the almost irresistible urge to flash
him. Instead, she sighed, and flashed him her middle finger.
Then she turned and continued into the world.
<---===***===--->
Melanie hesitated, a sense of excitement racing through her nerves.
The bus driver glanced down at her through the open door.
"Lady, are you coming aboard?"
Melanie shook her head, the feeling fading. Her breasts suddenly
ached, and she sensed something from the bus.
"I'll take the next one," she said.
The bus driver shook her head, and closed the door. The bus lurched
off, and Melanie watched it go with a blossoming feeling of relief.
<---===***===--->
John drove along the roadway, his fingers reaching for the radio
dial.
Suddenly, an image of Dawn, naked, and standing in a sea of green,
barefoot, and yet powerful slammed into his mind. The cars around
him faded, and the girl stood instead, hands curiously behind her
back, almost as if they were tied there. His penis pulsed with the
thought, until he realised that he was going to hit her.
He screamed, and twisted the wheel, tires churning and screeching.
The bridge abutment rose out of his vision, like a tower of concrete
from a fog.
"Shit," he murmured.
He heard the crash, more than felt it, the engine careening through
the dashboard like a hungry animal. He screamed again, and then
darkness descended.
<---===***===--->
A sudden scent of musk surrounded them, and they looked at each
other, with expressions of embarrassment.
"It wasn't me," Amber said, a smile rising to her lips.
Heather glanced at her sideway, a sudden desire flowing through her
nerves only to disappear in an instant.
"I wasn't me, either," she said.
But the musk faded as quickly as it had come, a phantom only
touching their minds for an instant.
<---===***===--->
Jessica shivered as though she'd passed through a ghost, her foot
resuming its path as though it had never stopped. She sat at her
desk, and lowered her head to her hands. She listened to the
students filing out.
She glanced up, and watched as one of the last girls, the tall shy
one, Leigh, stepped out and to the doorway. She paused there,
glancing back for a moment, holding Jessica's eyes.
A tingle passed through Jessica's breasts, her nipples throbbing. An
image of herself, naked, kneeling on the floor, Leigh above her,
flashed through her mind.
She closed her eyes, and the image disappeared. Only the throbbing
in her nipples remained.
"Are you all right, Miss Chambers?"
She shook herself, afraid somehow that Leigh had seen the same
image, certain of it. But the girl's face only registered concern,
and an element of adulthood, thrust upon her too early. It wasn't
the same girl that had entered the class. Jessica didn't understand
it, and she could only shake her head.
"Perhaps a headache," she whispered.
"I hope you feel better," Leigh said. The girl shut the door quietly
behind her, and Jessica was left alone in the classroom. She let her
breath out, and began gathering papers to grade.
<---===***===--->
"Kate," Karen whispered.
"Forget her, I'm not with her anymore."
Karen looked around, puzzled. The smoking area seemed the same, but
every time she thought to bring the lit stick to her lips, her
nipples ached. Hard, almost like they were burning.
She ignored the sensation, and brought the tobacco to her lips, and
inhaled.
The smoke burned her, and she coughed deeply, her lungs on fire.
That hadn't happened since she was a novice at this. Her eyes
teared, and her nipples throbbed.
She looked up, and Darren was staring at her, something between
concern and unbridled lust entering his eyes.
She had a sudden vision of herself naked in front of him, crying,
and his face carrying that same expression.
She paled.
"Forget that bitch, she's nothing."
Karen sighed, and then reached into her pocket, withdrawing the
cigarettes there. She dropped them on the ground, grinding her heel
into the pack. The lit one, between her fingers, made her nauseous
to smell it. It joined the pack.
"Karen, what the hell are you doing?"
He raised his own cigarette to his lips and inhaled. He blew the
smoke towards her, and she coughed again, her eyes watering.
"Is that what you'll call me, too, when you're through with me?"
she asked quietly. The other students around her stepped back,
sensing something more floating though the smoking area than a
simple lovers spat.
"What?"
That look hadn't left his eyes.
(Add some rope, and a burning cigarette pressed into my
tits, and he'd be spraying his shorts.)
She had no idea where that thought had come from, but she was as
certain of it as she was that she would never touch another
cigarette as long as she lived.
"Bitch," she said, almost in a whisper.
It seemed to take the wind out of his sails, and finally that look
fled. He liked his girls more docile. That's why he dropped Kate.
She walked up to him, her hands balled at her side.
"I'm not a bitch, and neither is Kate. Understand?"
He nodded, backing away from her. She thought she heard clapping
behind her as she turned away from him and began walking towards the
school. She didn't know if she'd find Kate, probably not, but she
would eventually. She needed to tell her something. She'd stopped
smoking, and she'd kissed her boyfriend. Former boyfriend.
Chapter 157
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"I am the key," she whispered, her voice echoing normally about the
silent classroom. A pencil appeared between her fingers, and she
started as though waking from a dream.
The girl next to her glanced up, a look of annoyance flitting across
her face. She bent back to the exam, concentration pinching her
cheeks. At the front of the classroom, the Latino teaching assistant
cast her a warning look, but didn't rise to lecture her.
Dawn lowered her eyes, and the exam swam back into focus.
They were all alive again, moving through the smoothness of time
like swimmers through a still lake. The time haze was gone, blown
away like so much smoke. Dawn sighed.
Once, when she'd been younger, she'd started a car in a closed
garage, the old Buick quickly filling the enclosed space with carbon
monoxide. She'd escaped, but not before darkness had risen, like a
tide, into her vision. She blinked, feeling the same helplessness,
same inevitability. The darkness rose, but she managed to push it
back down.
With a bolt of surprise, she realised that her breasts ached, and
she thought that her panties might even be damp.
(Panties? Jeans? Sweatshirt?)
She nearly pulled at the collar of her shirt to see if she was
wearing a bra. She sighed contentedly. Clothing. Such a simple
thing.
Had she fallen asleep at her desk. She'd been tired. John, and the
exam keeping her from sleep. Had she dreamed it?
She shook her head. Glancing at the closed door, she shivered.
(Did I really do that to get out of here? Strip in front of
all these students and pleasure myself?)
Her breasts tingled at the idea, and she forced herself to pick back
up the pencil, giving her fingers something else to do besides brush
at her breast through her clothing.
The darkness welled up again, and she lay her head down on her desk.
"Dawn? Are you all right?"
The Latino student looked worriedly towards the door. He'd probably
never had to deal with someone sick in an exam room. She stifled a
giggle. He probably didn't even have procedures.
"I'm fine. Just resting," she called. She pushed back at the
darkness, as it retreated again.
(Can't pass out here. Only a dream. Only a dream. A wildly
detailed, wildly arousing dream.)
She opened her eyes, and the proctor shook his head and returned,
somewhat thankfully, to his reading at the front of the classroom.
(I couldn't free him. I tried.)
(I am the key.)
She picked back up the pencil, and gazed down at the exam questions.
She couldn't read it; it was almost as if it were written in a
foreign language.
Her eyes drew her attention to her wrists.
(Oh, my, God.)
A faint, thin line wrapped her right wrist, almost as if
(she'd worn handcuffs)
something had pressed into her skin there. She dropped the
pencil and traced the line with her finger. It didn't hurt, but it
was there. No denying it. There was a matching ring about her left
wrist, exactly where it should be.
Suddenly, she was tired. Very tired. More tired.
Her eyes slipped down the page of questions, and rested on the last
one.
"In your own words, describe the nature of Time."
She nearly laughed, but picked up the pencil for the final time.
Writing furiously, her mind cleared and the words flowed.
The answer, she though, might just surprise the professor.
<---===***===--->
She stood in front of the door, her hand resting on the handle.
She swallowed heavily suddenly nervous. The other students had left,
even the proctor, only her, alone in the last room.
She'd already escaped her last prison, hadn't she? She'd been strong
enough. Somehow.
Her thoughts twisted to the exam, a smile gracing her lips.
The professor was going to be surprised, oh yes. And she'd pass,
after all, she was sure.
But that wasn't her accomplishment for the day. She was the key,
somehow, and she'd escaped.
She glanced again at the handle. Voices hummed outside, students
carrying on their ordinary lives. Her breasts ached, and she thought
of him, somewhere in the world, out there, perhaps waiting for
another time, another place.
She shivered, and hoped to God that he was aching as much as she.
The visions were gone. The time haze was gone. The silent, strange
universe, she'd returned to normal, whatever that was. Her body
ached, and she only wanted to go home, have a long bath, and relax
and watch the sun set. Alone.
She twisted the door knob, and the door swung open. No stabbing
desire. No gut wrenching pain. She was aroused, but it was residual,
not induced by the act of opening the door. It would be all right,
now. She supposed her reaction and fear might be Pavlovian, but
probably not.
She closed her eyes, and saw herself standing in a sea of green, her
body bare, her senses clear, the universe swirling around her, her
body throbbing in a time that was timeless.
"I am the key," she whispered.
She stepped out into the hall, joining the river of humanity flowing
towards the beautiful spring day. She took an odd comfort in those
voices surrounding her, though she walked alone.
"It's over," she whispered.
The sunshine kissed her face, and the universe felt right and free
again.
|
