Chapters 21 to 30

© Copyright 2003 - Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved

Main Page · Short Stories · Snapshots · Novels · Contact

Dawn of Time Index

Chapter 21

© Copyright 2003 - Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved

Dawn stood slowly, her body aching from the effort of riding the
universe's tunnels with her mind. The arousal was still there, her
clitoris throbbing, but she ignored it, pushing herself away on her
sneakered feet.
(Black nail polish. Bare feet. Chains.)
She thought of him as Timeman, idly wondered who he was. He had to
understand physics, couldn't simply be an average character. Had to
know what he was doing.
She wished that she knew what the hell she was doing.
"Time is fluid," she said. It sounded wrong, the sound not returning
to her out of the silence. No echo.
(Strange.)
She deliberately kept her mind from examining why he might have been
playing with Kelly.
(Clothespins.)
(Handcuffs.)
(Lesbians. Naked girls kissing.)
(Sex. Sex. Sex.)
The images sent a stab of sexual energy through her, and she moaned,
couldn't seem to tear her mind from the distracting thoughts.
Not now. Not here.
(NOW!)
Her fingers closed around the doorknob, twisting it futilely. It
refused to turn, but now she began to realise that it wasn't
necessarily locked, keeping her in with the frozen, corpse-like,
students that would ignore her forever. The door was simply frozen
in time, along with the rest of the world. Except her.
And him.
A sensation of claustrophobia descended on her. She'd never suffered
from it before, but then again, she'd never been trapped in a silent
room with only vacantly staring statues before either.
If she had escaped the time shift, perhaps someone else had as well?
Was it only the two of them alone in the world. Even Kelly was gone.
Almost without thought, she began to bang her palm against the wood
of the door.
"Please! Someone. Help! Help!"
She didn't remember stopping, but the palm of her right hand stung,
and felt swollen, redness infusing the pads of her fingers and the
raised muscle by her thumb.
Bruised, probably.
"Please, someone, help."
Her voice croaked, her energy expended. She'd been tired to begin
with, and with the last of her energy expended, she was finding it
more and more difficult to prevent the images
    (Clothespins.)
    from invading her senses. She'd never fantasised
uncontrollably before, and never about pain. But she'd never been
trapped alone, surfing across smoke, sharing another woman's
experiences before.
(Who the hell was Kelly?)
She started at the suddenness, her body controlling her mind. A stab
of desire, almost painful, struck between her legs.
"No," she said, her voice finding volume with the simple denial.
She rose to her feet.
If he could do it, why not her?
She crouched in front of Jeanette, the brunette sitting in the front
of the row.
(What would she look like naked?)
Dawn shook her head, trying to ignore the hardening of her own
nipples. She'd never been attracted to girls before, and still
wasn't as far as she knew. Where had that thought come from?
(If I reanimate her, I could force her to strip. Find out what
she looks like under that sweatshirt and jeans.)
"No," she whispered. "No. No. No."
The thoughts retreated, and Dawn sighed. She glanced over at the
exam proctor, a graduate student with a Latin background. She
couldn't remember his name, but he was suddenly sexy. Too sexy. She
normally didn't go for the Ricky Martin look either.
The same nagging centred in her mind, but she was finding it easier
to push it away. Even when she glanced back at Jeanette, she could
feel the thoughts retreating. It wasn't gender related. Her body was
simply insisting on release, and wasn't discriminating about with
whom.
Dawn concentrated, imagining a soap bubble, one that she was trapped
within. She pushed it away from herself with her mind, could sense
it expanding, picturing her hands pushing against flowing curtains.
Pushing, pressing.
(Handcuffs.)
She forced the thought from her mind, the bubble collapsing as her
concentration faded.
"Shit," she whispered, helplessness infusing her. She wanted to cry.
Wanted to masturbate. Wanted to make all of this go away.
She crawled back, eventually sitting on the floor, her back against
the bricks under the blackboard. She rode out a wave of arousal,
insistent and close.
Dawn idly wished that she'd never connected with Kelly, never seen
the smoke.
(But if you hadn't Dawnie, you wouldn't have a clue, would probably 
 be sobbing and feeling sorry for yourself, screaming for help that 
 would never come instead of ...)
She snatched her fingers from her breast, her other hand beginning
to delve beneath the tight waistband of her jeans.
She knew that she could concentrate if she could just ...
(I know what I have to do.)
Gasping, she forced her thighs to stop squeezing together.
Not now. Not here.
(Dammit.)
She forced away the images that her body was insisting upon. Why the
sudden fascination with sex? She'd always been able to control her
arousal before, had done it quite successfully last night when
confronted with a nice view of John's bare ass. Another stab of
arousal flowed through her, making her gasp.
Instinctually, she knew it was because she'd connected with the
bound girl, and that she was helpless in the face of it, it was an
integral part of the experience. Perhaps the act of wandering
through timelessness sparked a flow of estrogen, female sex hormones
raging through her. She idly wondered if the Timeman suffered a
similar trait, or if he could even sense the universe around him as
she seemed to be able to.
(NOW!)
One couldn't separate the results from the cause any more than one
could hold her own breath to die. She'd wanted to search, had to
understand, simply hadn't known what she was getting into.
(I've done it now, make the best of it, Pandora.)
Purposely, she rose, and approached Jeanette again. Clearing her
mind, forcing it away from the throbbing in her nipples and
clitoris, she pushed at the soap bubble. It expanded, slowly at
first, and then more rapidly. When it touched Jeanette, Dawn
shivered. It was like the bubble had encountered a brick wall. The
bubble hesitated, and then flowed around the girl, like smoke around
a tennis ball.
With her concentration fading, the bubble snapped back. Jeanette
remained sitting as she had before, silent and staring, not so much
as a flicker of light in her staring eyes.
With a sigh of relief, Dawn noted that her body had seemed to give
up the assault on her mind, the sexual imagery fading a little. It
wouldn't take much to rise up again, she was sure, but she thought
that she could maintain the calm for a while this time, maybe long
enough to figure something out. The throbbing had reduced to a dull
ache.
Dawn walked slowly over to the front desk. She didn't know the
proctor for the exam from Adam, but anybody was better than being
alone here.
She repeated the mental exercise, concentrating harder now that her
body was calming down.
The bubble flowed around the guy without any indication that it was
possible to bring a living object through to this time frame. He was
no different than Jeanette.
Dawn collapsed, breathing hard and exhausted.
She wanted to sleep, her eyes grainy.
Manipulating her bubble of time drained her. She wondered how the
Timeman did it, and stayed on his feet with enough energy to torment
Kelly.
(Maybe, I need to ask him.)
She shook her head, not really sure if she did want to find the guy.
But that was something to think about later.
After she lay uncomfortably on the tile for a while, she pushed
herself up, slowly.
She glanced over at the door; it mocked her.
She stood in front of the door for about five minutes before she
gathered her strength for one more try. Not something as complex as
another human being, no. Just a door. Just a lousy, frozen, slab of
hinged wood. She'd opened doors like this one a million times over
her lifetime.
Her bubble expanded more easily this time, forming itself to the
wood of the door, around the frame, around the hinges.
  (Bare ankles)
  When she reached forward to twist the knob, the bubble
snapped back, like it had when she'd tried with people. But it had
worked, had surrounded the door, released it. If she could only
find the concentration to reach for the knob without losing her grip
on the bubble.
God, she was tired.
"I don't want this," she murmured.
She lowered herself to the tiles, sitting cross-legged. Her hands
rose, and cupped her face. She wept for a while, she didn't know for
how long. But time was fluid, wasn't it? It didn't much matter
here.
After the sobs had reduced, she sighed. She knew what she had to do.
Didn't want to do it. Not here. Not now.
She raised her head. Her body still throbbed insistently at her. It
wasn't as powerful as before, but was sapping enough of her will
that she couldn't concentrate. Not enough to do what she wanted. She
had two choices. She could ride it out long enough. Hopefully, her
body would give up, whatever imbalance was causing this obsession
with sex to fade. But she honestly didn't know if her body would
ever give up its hold on her. Wax and wane, yes, but release her,
she doubted it. She had always taken for granted her control over
her own arousal.
She didn't want to think of the alternative.
"All right," she whispered. "You win."
She lay back, her back uncomfortable against the tile. She
hesitated for a few minutes, her breathing ragged. She wept for a
moment, her body not compromising despite her misery.
As if of their own volition, her fingers stole under her sweatshirt,
insistently brushing at her right nipple through her brassiere. She
didn't try to stop them this time, tried to ignore the fact that she
lay at the front of a populated, if quiet, classroom. They weren't
there. She was in her bed, comfortable, at home. Please, fantasise 
something normal.
(Not clothespins, or crops. Please.)
Her other hand pulled at the top button of her jeans, pulled at the
button fly snapping it open in one quick motion.
She halted, forcing her fingers to stop.
(What the hell was she doing??)
Her fingers teased her, brushing at her vaginal lips through her
panties. Her breathing became ragged, her ability to resist sapped.
She was so damned tired.
It would be quick, wouldn't it?
The last of her objections silenced. She surrendered.
(Clothespins.)
(Girls kissing. Where had that come from?)
(Ankles in chains.)
(Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Please, stop it.)
Fingers entering her, stroking insistently, pinching at her
 (clothespins)
     nipples. The pad of her index finger knew her rhythm,
had known it since she was a small child, guiltily exploring in the
privacy of her own bedroom, late at night. Her fingers played,
stroked through her moisture,
  (moisture? wetness, more like ...)
  pushed her ever closer to release.
Her body arched, the climax crashing through every muscle in her
body. She recognised her own voice, crying out, more passionate than
her cries from last night with John.
And her body relaxed. She felt bare skin, cold against the tile. The
back of her head ached, where she'd arched against the floor.
Slowly, she knelt. She couldn't remember removing her clothing, but
all that remained on her body were her socks and sneakers.
With a cry of dismay, she rose, gathering her clothing, her
underwear, what small level of dignity she retained. Her arousal was
gone, like the wind over a still lake. Her clitoris throbbed, but it
was the sane sensation of release, of satisfaction at last. She
dressed hurriedly, glancing at the multitude of faces that had
watched her display herself, and pleasure herself. She thought that
she could sense Jeanette's disapproval.
Tears fell unheeded down her face.
"Oh God," she murmured.
She stood again in front of the door, flushed, still breathing
heavily as if she'd performed a marathon of sex instead of the
quick, almost effortless self-pleasure that she had. No, it hadn't
taken much this time, not like her more sedate solitary routine --
simply animalistic insistent sex.
Shame flushed her cheeks.
"Oh God," she repeated.
The bubble moved easier this time, though somewhere she knew that
she wouldn't be able to re-animate another person nearly as easily,
if at all. Her bubble of time slid around the doorway again, as if
it were a glove. Her mind was clear, almost consciously shying away
from the images that had haunted her from Kelly.
It took effort, but she was able to reach the doorknob this time,
able to concentrate on the two actions simultaneously. It was like
re-learning to walk.
(Like riding a bicycle, Dawn, my girl.)
She was suddenly certain, that with practise, it would be simple,
almost as automatic as breathing. Re-animating people, perhaps not,
but simple things like unfreezing doors?
The door swung open as she twisted the knob.
She cried out, relief flooding through her.
She stepped out into the silent hallway, stumbling as she crossed
from the room that had been her prison. The other students
continued to ignore her. A solitary student, a girl who looked a bit
younger than herself, was frozen walking by the door to the exam
room.
The bubble retracted as her mind lost its grip upon it; the door
snapped silently back into its former position.
She sank to her knees, and then to the floor.
"Thank-you, thank-you," she whispered. She nearly kissed the floor.
She closed her eyes, completely drained. Her strength seemed to ebb
with the immediate task finally completed. Her climax, the
sleepless last night, her bruised ribs, all conspired against her.
Sleep. Perchance to dream.
Only for a moment, she told herself. Only for a moment.
It wasn't like laying her head onto her pillow to search for sleep,
no, sleep reached up and grabbed her, pulling her into the darkness.
This is what passing out feels like, she mused.
Her head cradled on her arm, off the cold marble of the corridor,
she closed her eyes, a warmth suffusing her from within.
	

Chapter 22

© Copyright 2003 - Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved

He almost walked past Home Hardware, but returned to gaze at the
store with a pang and a sense of loss. He missed her. Silly, silly,
man. He slipped past the old man, past the dead entrance chime to
stand by the cash. The pack weighed heavily in his hand.
He slipped the blue pack, with its exotic contents, over his
shoulders, the same as the girl had been forced to do at the end of
her ordeal.
She stood examining her nails, the black nail polish unchipped and
pristine. He leaned over the counter.
Her feet were encased in her Keds again, toe ring hidden beneath
canvas. Her black makeup and her hair, unmussed, her nipples
unscathed by the clothespins that resided within the pack now
resting on his shoulders.
"No," he whispered.
He glanced back at her as he walked slowly away.
He couldn't take her with him. Not Kelly. She wasn't right. He hoped
that by some miracle that she'd ease herself out of her darkness and
become the beautiful girl that he had come to know, however briefly.
"See ya, Kelly," he said as he began to walk towards the end of the
mall. He ignored the people around him, except to dodge around their
frozen forms.
As he moved away from the store, his step became lighter, and more
springy.
The sunlight nearly blinded him as he stepped through the mall
entrance and around a mother pushing her infant in a stroller. He
glanced at her, noticed that she was pretty, her golden hair
glistening in the sun. She had lost her pregnancy weight, and would
be able to carry the weight of the pack. Plus, he had an automatic
bargaining chip. The infant.
He shook his head.
No. He wouldn't do that again. Even outside of time.
He shrugged the pack back up onto his shoulders and pulled at the
straps, loosening them. Kelly had been much smaller than he.
Smiling at the silence, he picked his way across the parking lot,
unsure of where he was going.
                         <---===***===--->
Kresner Collegiate stood back from the main road, a driveway winding
its way back towards the front entrance. The location was private,
and probably not noisy for the students despite the main parkway
leading to it.
The front yard was lined with oak trees, and it looked like the back
field might border onto the bluffs surrounding the lake beyond.
He stopped, his feet aching.
Unconcerned, he sat in the middle of the road, slipping the backpack
from his shoulders, and laying it on the blacktop beside him.
Couldn't stop now.
He looked towards the low building that made up the school. His
feet protested the thought of walking further.
A BMW, in another life, might have run him down, if he'd released
it. A black youth, in a headscarf, was piloting the car. The Timeman
smiled, imagining the driver's surprise if he extended that time
bubble into the car.
He considered boosting the car, hefting the gun in his hand as he
did so. Shaking his head, he sighed. He must be tired. Car-jacking a
moving car, even with time on his side would be difficult. Easier to
get car keys from a teacher in the school and take her car.
Slowly, he rose to his feet. They complained; he had walked a long
way to get here, and he still didn't know where he was going. But he
had time. Yes, he had time. If he had to, he'd find a couch in the
teacher's lounge and catnap. Every blink drove graininess further
into his retinae.
He picked up the bag, swinging it by his thigh as he made his way up
towards the school.
                         <---===***===--->
Her red hair caught his attention. She wasn't completely hidden by
the tree, her hair caught fluttering in the now non-existent breeze.
His feet disturbed old brown leaves, left over from autumn. They
crackled as he left the drive and made his way over the grass.
She sat cross-legged under the tree, an expression of melancholy
upon her features. She was young, probably seventeen, maybe
eighteen, and her body had the firmness of youth. Her face was
stunning, not too much makeup, but some, her red hair framing her
features in unrestricted waves.
He lowered the pack to the ground, sitting down in front of her. The
girl was concentrating on something in her fingers, a leaf, bits of
the leaf scattered over her crossed legs and ankles. She wore a
skirt, carefully tucked down, the folds maddeningly teasing.
Her facial features reminded him, a little, of Kelly, after he'd
made her remove her black makeup.
He wondered why she was sad, her eyes and posture revealing her
mood.
He debated for a few minutes, but decided that she needed to come
alive. He slipped the gun from his waistband, placing it behind him.
He didn't want to frighten her. At least, not right away.
The transition was sharp, and she wasn't immediately aware of his
presence. She slowly tore another strip from the leaf in her hand,
the brittle substance crackling quietly in the silence.
Perhaps it was the silence, perhaps she sensed him. She looked up,
her eyes widening in surprise.
                         <---===***===--->
Kate caught the cry of surprise that had formed unbidden in her
throat. Her heart began to hammer in her chest as adrenaline rushed
into her veins. He looked tired, but she hadn't heard him approach.
Something else was strange, but she couldn't place it. Something out
of place, something not quite normal.
"Can I help you?"
Her voice emerged without a waver, strong and sure of herself.
He answered pleasantly enough.
"I'm not sure."
"Where did you come from?" she asked. She still didn't understand
how he had approached without her knowing. She must have been
concentrating on the leaf and Darren far more than she was willing
to admit.
He smiled, though she didn't really trust the smile.
"I came down the driveway. I'm kind of lost."
Kate waved towards the school. "That's Kresner Collegiate. Where
are you headed?"
He hesitated for a moment, thinking about something.
"I think that's where I should be."
It was an odd way of phrasing it. The girl crumpled up the last of
the leaf in her hand, scattered it, and pushed herself off the
ground. His eyes followed her.
"I have to get back to class," she said.
He remained seated. The imprint of her body remained in the grass in
front of him. He looked up.
"What's your name?" he asked simply.
As she stood, she could see a whisper of chrome peeking out from
behind where he was sitting. His hand stole around behind him,
covering it. Unease settled through her.
"I really have to get to class."
She began to walk away. After a few steps, she collided with
something invisible, but something very solid. If she'd been moving
any faster, she might have hurt herself.
"What?" she exclaimed.
He heard him laugh gently behind her. Her fingers explored the air
in front of her. About five centimetres in front of her nose, her
fingers impacted with the air, as if it had been turned into
transparent concrete.
She whirled, confused, the question dying on her lips.
Her eyes fell immediately to the gun. It wasn't pointed at her, but
she had no doubt that it could. He remained seated.
"I asked what your name was," he said quietly. The menace was
palpable.
"I'll scream," she said flatly. Her heart hammered in her chest, a
mixture of fear and faintness.
"It won't do you any good," he said with a grin.
She was suddenly sure of it. Her eyes travelled towards the main
road. A BMW stood in the middle of the road, rooted to the spot as
if made of ice. It could have been stalled, but she doubted it.
Highly. Her mind began to notice the other little things. The
complete silence, the lack of wind, the leaves of the trees still
against the slightest breeze.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice wavering. She struggled for
control of it.
His answer frightened her more than the sight of the gun.
"You, I think."
	

Chapter 23

© Copyright 2003 - Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved

The metal things lay by her feet, inanimate, but terrifying.
She looked up from staring at them, and slowly shook her head. Red
strands of her hair obscured her vision.
"No, I won't."
She backed up until her back rested against the solid air behind
her. She wanted to scream, but couldn't find the will, her voice
frozen.
He rose, infinite patience in his stance. She suspected that he
wouldn't put up with much in the way of defiance, but he seemed
understanding of her, here and now.
He approached her, and she shrunk back as much as she was able.
    (How does air become solid?)
    Her eyes darted to the left, looking for an escape
route away from him, away from the gun.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
He shrugged. "You can call me, sir."
(Like hell, I will.)
She shook her head again.
"You won't get far, if you run," he remarked casually.
Kate trembled, determined to try anyway. The air crept, until she
could sense it nearly touching her arms. He approached through the
invisibly constraining tunnel. Somehow, she was aware that he wasn't
nearly as constrained by it as she.
Kate tried to step to the left, touched the wall; tried to step to
the right, same deal.
Her lips remained clamped as the gun barrel stroked her chin. Nearly
fainting, she tried to look away from his eyes. They were hardened,
almost uncaring. She could see a sparkle there; he was enjoying
himself, and could be compassionate, but she suspected that he was
the type of man that would do what he needed to in order to get what
he desired.
She swallowed heavily.
What he desired was her.
She was used to males desiring her, even encouraged it. But this
male had a gun. A damn gun.
"I could have let you run," he said.
She remained silent, trembling like the leaves were not.
He paused, then continued. "But you would have hurt yourself. You
can't see the division, can you?"
She slowly shook her head, not understanding. Her chin scraped
against the cold steel of the barrel as she moved her head.
"Like Sandra," he said. His eyes drifted away for a moment.
(Who the hell was Sandra???)
His eyes fixed her again, and she looked away.
"Do you still want to defy me?" he asked quietly.
Her voice wavered, carrying all of her fright with it.
"Are you going to hurt me? Rape me?"
He laughed, making her flush.
"Rape you? Not if I can help it."
That didn't make much sense to her, but she noticed that he had
conveniently left out the part about hurting her. Her groin tingled
for a moment, but her fear over-rode that sensation.
She licked her lips, the downward motion of her jaw pressing harder
into the gun. He lowered it a little to let her run her tongue over
her suddenly drier lips again.
"If I wear them, will you lower that gun?"
He nodded and stepped back. She let out her breath as the gun barrel
left her skin.
Slowly, she bent. The chrome handcuffs felt heavy against her
fingers.
She shook her head.
"I can't. Please."
She had sworn to herself that she wouldn't beg. But she had to try.
He softened a little, perhaps because she'd pleaded. Maybe he does
have weaknesses, she mused.
"It won't be for long. I just don't want to hold this gun on you.
It's dangerous."
She couldn't really see how she could possibly be a threat, but she
nodded. She didn't want him pointing that damn thing at her either.
As if in a show of good faith, he lowered the gun, aiming it towards
the ground. If he wanted to shoot her, he still could, but she felt
better. At least if there was a accident, she might not be in the
line of fire.
She slipped the edge of the open cuff around her left wrist. He
watched her with an intensity that she didn't particularly care for.
Each click of the ratchet sent shivers down her spine. It slowly
closed until it pressed snugly against the skin of her wrist. She
stared at it for a long time, slowly twisting her wrist within its
prison.
It dawned on her suddenly. She didn't have the key. He did. Without
him, her wrist was in the cuff forever.
She shivered, used her left hand to raise the remaining steel cuff
towards her right wrist. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading.
"I can't. Please," she whispered.
She thought she saw a whisper of hesitation, but it didn't hold. He
lifted the gun again; it aimed at her chest. She held her breath
until it hurt.
"Behind you."
"Oh, God," she whispered.
It was easier not having to look at the metal, not seeing her wrists
being trapped. She fumbled with the cuffs behind her, never having
had to close handcuffs on herself before.
If she left it loose, would he notice?
She was certain that he would. Somehow, he would know.
At last, her trembling fingers found the other band of chrome, and
fumbled it closed around her right wrist. The first of the mindless
ratchets engaged behind her back with a satisfied click.
She could still easily slip her slim wrist from its confinement.
Last chance.
She raised her eyes again. He watched her, not rushing her.
"Please?" she whispered.
He slowly shook his head.
"I'll do whatever you want."
But if he wanted sex, would she? She didn't think so. But how could
she fight with her hands bound? Was this how every girl felt just
before being raped?
She felt a single tear escape, trailing down her cheek. Ducking her
head, she hoped that he hadn't seen it.
(Weak girl, weak.)
He knew. And with a final inhalation, she steeled her will. The cuff
snapped through its final clicks in rapid succession until the cuff
had tightened against her skin.
Helpless, she thought. Completely, and utterly, helpless, now.
She pulled against the bonds weakly. She could twist her hands, but
the circles of metal wouldn't admit her hands through them. They
were behind her until he let her go from them. In a pinch, without
interference, she might be able to slip her legs through the loop of
her arms, get her hands in front of her. But what then? She still
didn't have the key. He did.
Her groin tingled again, and she thrust the feeling away like a
nagging mosquito.
She looked up when she sensed the walls of air retreat from her. She
reached out with her toe to the side without finding resistance; the
other side yielded the same result, though she could still feel the
wall behind her back.
He slowly approached.
"I can bring them back," he remarked, referring to the walls that
had retreated.
Kate flushed.
"I won't run," she said, but her voice wouldn't stop wavering.
He stopped in front of her.
"Turn around."
She gave him a confused look, but obeyed, presenting her cuffed
wrists to him. She shivered when his fingers touched her backside
accidentally. He grasped the chain between her wrists, pulling
upwards suddenly.
Kate cried out, her body forced to bend at her waist by the pressure
on her shoulders. Her cheek pressed against the invisible wall that
had been behind her back. His finger traced around each wrist,
attempting to wiggle under the bands that held her. There wasn't any
room; the cuffs weren't loose against her.
"Good girl," he said before dropping her hands. Her hands fell to
bang against the small of her back. Slowly, she straightened and
turned around.
"I'm not stupid," she said.
He nodded while he moved back from her a few steps.
He was silent, his eyes roaming her. She flushed at the attention.
It wasn't unusual for a man to ogle her, but this was a little more
blatant than normal. And she was handcuffed to suffer it.
Nevertheless, she tossed her head, shaking her red head to fall over
her shoulders.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"Do?"
"With me?"
He shrugged.
"I don't know quite yet."
Kate pulled against the bonds for a moment. His words brought her
eyes up again.
"What's your name?" he asked her.
She hesitated, but couldn't think of a single reason not to tell
him. In fact, it might be beneficial. With a name, she had to be
human, didn't she? Of course, people named their dogs and cats, too.
"Kate. Kate Cook."
"Kate."
She waited.
"Sit down, Kate," he said as he lowered himself to the grass. He'd
tucked the gun into his waistband. Kate didn't know much about guns,
but she silently hoped that it would misfire down there, shoot his
pecker off.
With care, Kate lowered herself to the grass. The man leaned up
against the tree under which she'd formerly been sitting.
She sat quietly, waiting for him to speak. He seemed tired, and she
half wondered if he'd fall asleep there under her tree.
"Kate?"
She looked up sharply. The handcuffs felt strange adorning her
wrists.
He paused, then continued.
"What's the matter?" he asked simply.
She nearly laughed, but managed to stifle it.
"You mean, beyond having a gun levelled at me, and being forced to
wear these? Not knowing if you are planning on killing me, or merely
raping me, or both?" Kate pulled her hands awkwardly to the side,
one arm stretching across her back to make the cuffs visible to her
captor.
"At least, the gun isn't pointed at you anymore."
She was thankful, in a way, for that.
"I'd rather not have the gun here at all."
He ignored the comment, clarified his earlier question.
"No, Kate, when I found you," he said, "you were sitting about here
and tearing up that leaf. Boyfriend trouble?"
She looked down, studying the grass in the hollow of her lap. Her
skirt had ridden up a little, something that distressed her, but
with her hands bound, there was precious little she could do about
it. She remained silent.
"Katie?"
Kate looked up sharply. Knowing it was dangerous, knowing that she
should simply put up with it. Instead, she spoke harshly.
"Kate. Not Katie. Kate. I hate that name."
He nodded. She let her breath out when she realised that her
outburst hadn't earned her a bullet.
"Kate, then. What was the matter?"
Kate looked back down, spoke to her legs.
"If I tell you, will you let me go?"
She glanced up, a look of hope in her eyes.
He simply shook his head slowly.
"I can't do that," he said quietly.
Kate looked back towards her legs, wiggling her toes in her runners.
She really hadn't expected him to agree to that. Truthfully, she had
no real bargaining power here. He had the gun, and that was enough.
"If I tell you what I was thinking about, will you at least tell me
what's going on? How long you are going to keep me like this?" Her
voice broke, but she managed to regain control of it. "Are you going
to rape me? Hurt me?"
She looked up. He regarded her for a moment, and then seemed to make
up his mind.
"Kate. I'll tell you what you want to know, as much as I can. But I
can't promise anything, and I can't promise that it will be what you
want to hear. But I want you to know that I'm humouring you. I
doubt if you are strong enough to prevent me from finding out, if I
want. There are always ways."
Her mind filled with pictures of herself, in pain, and agreeing to
tell him anything he wanted. The images were far too real,
especially sitting here like she was. The handcuffs jingled behind
her back.
She was sure he was capable of what he threatened obliquely. She was
also sure that nobody was going to help her. Not here. There was no
Superman here.
He tilted his head.
"I'll tell you what I can. You don't want to try the other way," he
said.
She gulped. No, she didn't. Not at all.
"All right," she whispered.
	

Chapter 24

© Copyright 2003 - Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved

She hadn't realised that she was as upset as she was. Her voice was
choking, no matter how hard she tried to control it. Her eyes leaked
tears, and she couldn't do a damn thing about it with her hands in
handcuffs.
"I think I was beginning to love him," she whispered.
She looked up.
He'd moved closer, sitting immediately across from her. He gently
wiped at her cheeks. She shied away from his touch, but eventually
gave up as he moved forward to follow her.
He looked at her.
"Boyfriends come and go, especially at your age."
Easy for him to say.
She snuffled, and resisted the urge to continue in self-pity. She
willed the tears to stop.
"But with Karen?" she asked.
"Do you hate her?"
It was an odd question.
Kate shook her head from side to side as she spoke.
"No. I don't hate her. Or him, for that matter."
The man nodded, as if understanding what she was saying.
"Do you love him?"
Kate considered. It was only a few dates, and the guy had been fun.
If she was honest with herself, she was far more upset that he'd
left her for Karen, rather than the other way around. She was upset
at him for not being honest with her.
She shook her head firmly.
"I don't think so."
He retreated from her, back under the tree, his back pressed against
it. For the first time, Kate noticed a bright blue backpack sitting
at the base of the tree. She presumed it was his; she'd never seen
it before.
"That's it. That's why I was sitting out here by myself. Karen
wanted to go for a smoke. I don't smoke, and I just wanted to be
alone. Then you showed up. Nobody ever hangs out at the front of the
school."
"Smart girl."
Her confused face must have prompted him to elaborate.
"Smart to want to be alone, and smart not to smoke."
"It stinks," she said, suddenly hoping that he wasn't a smoker and
would be offended.
He shrugged easily.
After a while, she gathered her courage, her voice small and barely
above a whisper.
"Are you going to kill me?"
He smiled.
"I promised to tell you, if you told me, didn't I?"
She nodded. In the intervening time, she'd stretched her legs out,
the grass tickling the underside of her thighs. A sense of fatalism
descended on her. She cared, but she didn't. If he wanted to rape
and kill her, she was frightened, but it was probably going to
happen.
He slowly shook his head.
"No, Kate. I have no intention of killing you, or anyone else that I
free."
(Anyone else? Free?)
"Are you going to hurt me?"
"Are you going to cooperate with me?"
"Within reason, I suppose. I put these damn things on for you,
didn't I?"
"Within reason?" He laughed. "There is no reason here, my girl."
That didn't make a lot of sense, but she tried to make herself
clearer.
"I won't kill anyone else for you," she said.
He nodded, a look of understanding on his face.
She broke the silence again.
"So you won't hurt me if I cooperate. Does that include rape?"
He smiled. "I won't rape you. You're honour will be intact if you so
choose."
Her honour, as he put it, had been taken long ago, in a more
experimental time in her life. But he didn't need to know that.
She looked at him expectantly. He continued slowly and carefully. He
glanced at the gun, as if expecting her to rise, despite the
handcuffs holding her wrists, and attack him.
"I can't promise not to hurt you. I might, but it won't be anything
that you can't handle."
That scared her, her face losing its colour. Her clitoris pulsed,
  (Why?)
  but she pushed away the sensation. She didn't want
that. Not here. Not from this stranger. God, no.
(From Darren then?)
She shook her head in denial, aware that the man was watching her.
"Please, you don't have to hurt me. You don't have to make me wear
these, even. I'll do pretty much anything you want. You don't have
to hurt me," she whispered.
He nodded.
"I know," and it seemed like he even believed her.
"You want to hurt me, don't you?"
The thought had entered her head in a rush, and she'd merely
verbalised it before she could really think about it. She watched
him expectantly.
He didn't answer, but rose and walked to where she sat. She shied
away, almost as if expecting a punch, or a strike to her unprotected
face.
Instead, he reached down and grasped her elbow gently.
Kate struggled to rise, using him for support. At last, she stood
unsteadily on her feet. Her balance, normally good, was affected by
her arms held uncomfortably behind her.
"How do you do it?" she asked.
"Do what?"
She glanced around, her mind trying to grasp what surrounded her.
"The world?" he asked her.
She nodded.
"It's just you and I," he said slowly. "The world is asleep, because
I made it sleep."
That didn't make much sense to her. Instead, she focused on a
specific.
"That car. The BMW out there."
He nodded, following her gaze. "You mean the one with the twerp in
gang colours behind the wheel, stereo blasting to cover his
inadequacy?"
She shook her head, not understanding, but believing that he was
right.
(How can he know these things?)
"It hasn't moved," she observed.
He smiled. "Nothing has moved in the last three hours, except you
and I." It wasn't strictly true, but she had no way of refuting the
statement.
"You stopped the world," Kate said incredulously.
"Actually, the universe, I think."
Her mind swam at the enormity of it.
"If I scream. Nobody will come, will they?"
He shook his head. "You want to try."
"Will you shoot me?"
"No, Kate, I'll let you scream if it makes you feel better."
But she knew in her heart that it would accomplish nothing, except
maybe to irritate him, and make her throat sore.
"I believe you."
"Smart girl."
She suddenly saw herself in her mind's eyes, as she must have been
when he stopped the world, sitting under the tree. It wasn't quite
clear yet, but she was beginning to understand how he had sneaked up
on her so easily.
"What will happen to me when you let me go?"
Not if. When.
"You'll return. All of this will disappear, for you."
"For you?"
He shook his head. "I'll remember, but you won't. Sometimes I think
that's a blessing."
She thought so to.
"How?" she asked simply.
Instead of answering, he spoke quietly: "Turn around."
She hesitated, wondering what he was going to do. The world hissed
silently around them. He waited patiently for her, and eventually
she obeyed. Something pressed into her fingers, and she jumped,
whirling.
He held the blue backpack out, its canvas top strap obviously what
had touched her fingers. Not him. Not his penis. The backpack.
"I'm sorry," she said. She turned back around, this time ready for
it.
The backpack was heavy and she thought that she could hear clanking,
metal on metal, from within. It was awkward, carrying it behind her
back, but she managed. She wondered what was in it. Something told
her that she really didn't want to know.
"Where's the smoking section?" he asked quietly.
"Around behind the school."
"Let's go," he said, his hand gently guiding her by the elbow.
She balked, resisting the pressure of his hand.
"Why do you want to go back there?"
(Karen was back there.)
"I don't think you want to know that."
With a sigh, Kate began to walk, the backpack swinging and touching
the back of her thighs as she moved. After a time, his hand lifted
from her elbow, and she walked unassisted through the grass towards
the back entrance to Kresner Collegiate, leading the way, aware that
he was watching her walk.
                         <---===***===--->
He took the backpack from her fingers as they stood on the asphalt
of the school yard behind the school. The smoking area was
delineated by bright yellow lines, like lane markings, painted upon
the blacktop.
Students and faculty stood, most smoking here, puffs of white smoke
frozen being exhaled, or surrounding heads like a haze over the
moors in Scotland.
Kate couldn't smell any of the carcinogenic particles, and for that
she was glad. It was unusual for her to be anywhere near this
section of asphalt.
She dragged her attention towards the stranger, who was rummaging
through the pack. She spied bits of wood, rope and a flash of chain
from within, before he blocked her view unintentionally with his
body.
She stood with her back against weathered brick, its surface rough
and warm through her shirt. Her fingers idly explored the texture
of the brick behind her, the metal of her handcuffs scraping against
the red clay and mortar.
He seemed truly apologetic as he rose, a piece of chain dangling
over his right palm.
"I'm sorry, but there isn't any easier way."
She eyed the chain suspiciously, sure that it was about to
supplement her restrictions.
"Why?" she ventured.
"I don't want you interfering."
She considered that for a moment.
"You could let me go."
He laughed, but reached forward, his hand tickling for a moment
before tangling in her hair.
Kate cried out as he bent her, tugging more or less gently on her
hair. She could feel the chain beginning to encircle her throat.
Without thought she began to struggle.
"No!"
He eased up on her, but didn't release her hair.
"Kate, I thought we were over this."
She shook her head, sure that her movement was transmitted to his
grasping hand.
"I'm not going to let you choke me, you bastard."
She felt him cringe at the term, and was suddenly more afraid.
Instead of the anger she expected, he spoke gently.
"I'm not going to choke you, just restrain you."
"By the throat?" she spoke desperately towards the asphalt between
her feet.
He eased up the pressure on her hair, and she rose little by little.
His hand remained in her hair, but the threat diminished as she
stood. The chain pulled through and away from her neck as she rose.
"See that?"
She took a great inhalation of air, and looked where his finger
pointed. A white pipe, little more than an electrical conduit,
traversed the wall a little above her head. It was loose where
they'd stopped; she could see the screws withdrawn, and the gap
between the pipe and the wall.
"The conduit?" she said.
"I'm going to run this chain from that to your throat."
She had an image of a bear, collar around its neck, dancing for its
supper. She shook her head.
"You don't have to do that." She thought for a minute. "You could
tie my feet. Then I couldn't run, right? You don't have to chain me
up like an animal."
He pondered that for a moment, but instead of answering her, he
yanked the gun from his waistband again. She paled.
The barrel kissed her cheek, and she thought her knees might buckle.
"Kate, you see. I want you chained. Do you understand?"
Afraid to speak, she merely nodded, her cheek dragging against the
warm steel of the gun.
"Please," she whispered.
When he next urged her to bend, she did so, shivering as the chain
was draped over the back of her neck. She could see it dangling
over her shoulders.
He adjusted it, slipping a padlock through two links to form a loose
circle about her neck. She wouldn't be able to slip her head from
the loop, but it wasn't choking her as she'd feared.
(Another thing I don't have the key for.)
After urging her again, with her hair, to stand up, she did. He
reached up and looped the chain over the conduit, and secured it
with another, smaller, padlock. She watched as he dropped the keys
into the front pocket of his jeans.
She pulled against the leash gently. Oh no, that conduit wasn't
going anywhere, and until he released her, she wasn't either.
"Why?" she asked him, trying to keep the waver out of her voice.
The yellow markings of the smoking area fell squarely between her
feet.
"Because, I want you like that," he said simply.
She didn't understand, but it wasn't uncomfortable, the weight of
the chain reminded her that it was there, but unless she pulled, or
fell, it wouldn't impact her breathing.
He walked away from her.
"You aren't leaving me like this, are you?"
He didn't answer her, but continued walking.
One tear escaped her, rolling down her cheek, eventually finding her
chin and dropping free to moisten her shirt just above the swell of
her breasts. Her nipples throbbed, once, and she willed that
sensation away.
She watched as he moved into the smoking area, his eyes intent.
	

Chapter 25

© Copyright 2003 - Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved

When he returned, Kate had managed to stop her tears. Her cheeks
were still damp from them, her eyes probably red, but she didn't
care. In these types of situations, girls were allowed to cry a
little.
His fingers traced along the links of the chain encircling her
throat, occasionally caressing the bare skin beneath.
"How long are we going to be here," she asked, trying to ignore the
sensations his fingers caused. It wasn't sexual, not for her at
least, but more distracting, strange; a stranger's finger tracing
along the chain that held her to this tiny corner of a stopped
world.
"Which one is she?" he asked.
Bewildered, Kate glanced around her, past the tall man whose finger
was still tracing her throat.
"Who?"
"Karen, silly girl."
With her situation weighing on her shoulders, she had almost
forgotten about Karen, and of course, Darren.
She hadn't seen them when they'd rounded the corner, and then his
hand had been in her hair, forcing her to accept the chain leash.
Then, she'd been crying.
Kate looked more closely, her eyes travelling over the frozen people
surrounded by their smoke.
"I don't see her."
The man stepped away from her, his finger leaving her confinement.
Her eyes scanned the smoking area again.
There. On the far side. A flash of blonde hair, a petite,
well-proportioned girl, a smouldering cigarette between two fingers,
frozen in time.
Kate's breath caught in her throat, a startled gasp issuing from her
lips.
Karen was kissing Darren, her free arm swung around his neck,
reaching for him, up on her toes.
(She'd promised. Dammit, Karen.)
But Kate didn't say anything, not to her captor. Everything was
different, now, wasn't it?
A pang of jealously raced through her, but only for a moment.
She didn't care.
(Yes, I do.)
She didn't care.
He followed her gaze silently, and whistled low.
"She's a looker, ain't she?" the man said.
"What are you going to do?"
"Who's that she's playing tonsil hockey with?"
Kate shrugged. The chain jingled against the pit of her throat, the
padlock a weight there.
"Darren," Kate said dully.
It hurt, but even if the world hadn't been stopped, and she wasn't
handcuffed, and wasn't chained to the wall, she'd survive.
"Oh."
Kate lapsed into silence, averting her eyes from the scene. Karen was
turned away from her, though her frame was unmistakable; but that
was why Kate hadn't immediately seen her friend. Darren's face was
obscured by Karen's head.
"I don't love him," Kate said, though she wasn't sure she believed
it herself. If she didn't, then why did her heart hurt? Hmmmm?
(Lust?)
She shook her head. No, she didn't love him, of that she was sure.
It was simply a shock seeing it, her and him, again.
"Kate?" The man spoke quietly to her. "I don't want you to say
anything, no matter what happens. Okay?"
Kate nodded slowly, not understanding, but knowing that to speak
would probably bring her pain.
The tall man walked away from Kate without another word. Kate
lowered her eyes, watching the blackness of the asphalt.
                         <---===***===--->
A startled scream brought Kate's eyes up.
"God. Fuck. Oh my God."
Karen, suddenly animated, danced away from Darren, who remained
frozen, lips pursed, and eyes glazed. Karen's feet stumbled until
she sat down heavily. Tears sprouted from her eyes as the shock of
hitting the concrete transmitted up her spine.
"What the fuck?" she swore. She brought the cigarette to her lips,
and inhaled deeply. She remained faced away from Kate, and the
Timeman.
"Darren?" she called, and then louder. "Darren?"
She whirled, twisting at the hips, looking for an explanation. The
statues around her didn't much care about her confusion.
Kate could smell the faint sweetness of the smoke, now that it had
been allowed to burn. As she'd been told, she kept her voice to
herself.
"Kate? Oh my God, Kate, what the hell ...?"
Karen rose, pushing desperately up from the asphalt, dodged a
teacher and stopped short as the Timeman stepped in front of her.
She screamed, but stopped as her eyes found the gun.
Deliberately, he pressed the gun into her chest, resting between her
breasts. She wore a tight sweater that hugged her, the gun dimpling
it like a ripple on a pond.
"Kate?"
Kate swallowed heavily, and risked it. She didn't know if the gunman
would punish her, but she had to try.
"Karen? Do what he says. Please."
The gunman glanced back, and Kate snapped her mouth shut, cutting
off any other words of advice.
"What the fuck have you done to her?" Karen demanded, but she was
shaking, aware of the gun pressing into her skin. "Let her go."
"What have I done to her? Anything I please," the man said evenly.
Then he added, in a quiet voice. "The same as I'll do to you."
Karen's face paled.
"What do you want?"
At this he smiled.
"I want you to lose those clothes."
Kate nearly cried out, called to the man, but then kept her tongue.
Anything she could say would only make things worse, she was sure.
She'd been told to keep quiet, and judging by her captor's demeanour
with Karen, now wasn't the time to say anything. If he wanted Karen
to strip, she was probably going to have to strip.
Karen trembled for a second, and stepped back away from the gun. The
man let her.
"Never," Karen whispered.
Without hesitation, he squeezed off a bullet. It hit the asphalt
beside her left foot, whining off and careening into the distance.
Fragments of asphalt sprayed Karen's lower legs.
Both girls screamed at the sudden report, Kate sure that Karen would
fall where she stood.
"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God," Kate whispered, averting her eyes.
"The next one will be into your right knee. If you still are in your
clothes, then the next one will be in your left elbow. At that
point, you probably won't be very attractive, and I'll probably
leave you to die," he snarled at the blonde girl.
Kate looked up sharply. Karen was alive, and hadn't been hit, though
the other girl was deathly pale.
"Please," the blonde whispered. "I don't want to die."
"Then I would suggest," the man said slowly and with obvious threat,
"that you do what you are told."
"Please, Karen. Christ," Kate said, her voice carrying across the
smoking area easily in the silence of the world. The sound of the
gun hadn't echoed, at all. "Just take off your clothes for him."
Trembling, Karen's fingers rose and grasped the hem of her sweater.
"Please?"
The gunman's gaze didn't waver from her eyes, the gun never wavered
from her heart.
"Oh, God."
Her fingers yanked the woollen garment over her head. It fluttered
to the ground at her feet, lying there like a discarded crimson rag.
Karen glanced at the gun, its barrel still smoking.
Karen hesitated, her fingers hooked into her pleated skirt.
"Please?"
"I don't want to shoot you Karen, but I will."
Kate, still bound to the conduit, prayed. She was sure that he would
shoot Karen, blood spurting uncaringly from the girl's knee. As if
to punctuate her thought, the gunman slowly lowered the gun until it
aimed at the girl's right kneecap, visible below the skirt's high
hem.
"Please, no. I'm doing it."
Her fingers pushed at the fabric. It caught, and she stifled a sob.
"She'll strip. Give her time," Kate said carefully.
The gunman shot her another glance of warning, and Kate shut up,
fear coursing through her veins.
The skirt pooled around the girl's ankles and with a short sob, she
stepped out of it, leaving it beside her sweater. She shivered a
little in the open air.
"Bra and panties, too."
Karen shook her head, but her fingers reached up behind her and
released the clasps of her brassiere. She was fully crying now, her
entire body shaking in fear and distress. The gunman didn't take
pity on her.
After her bra touched the ground, the frightened girl pushed her
simple briefs to the ground. She stepped out of them.
"Shoes and socks."
"Outside?"
"You're naked, now. What's the point in having footwear?"
Karen didn't even hesitate, but pushed her runners off with her
toes, and then reached down, lifting one leg then the other to pull
off her white socks with her fingers. At last, she stood, one arm
across her breasts, the other shielding her pubic region, barefoot
and trembling.
With an obvious effort, Karen quelled her tears.
He let her shield her body, surprising Kate. In fact, Kate had fully
expected him to throw her to the ground, forcing himself on her
friend before she could even remove her shoes. With that damn chain
around her neck, Kate couldn't have done anything but watch, either.
Instead, he gazed at the naked girl, eyes on her face, not her
nipples.
Karen and Kate had never had gym class together, nor been at a
sleepover together. Kate had never seen Karen naked. She had as firm
a body as any of her friends. Kate measured herself, in her
imagination, then forced herself to stop. Karen stood shivering in
front of the man, now.
"Down," he ordered.
Karen looked at him, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Please. I don't know ..."
"All fours. Like a dog."
Slowly, Karen obeyed, sinking to her knees and then rocking forward
until her hands pressed against the hard asphalt. Kate forced the
image of herself, doing the exact same thing from her mind.
Karen's blonde hair fell to obscure her face, breasts hanging
beneath her. Kate felt another pulse through her clitoris as she
gazed at her now naked friend, but forced it back.
"Do you always break your promises?" the man asked.
Karen raised her head, looking up awkwardly at her tormentor.
"Please, I'll do whatever you want," she said.
"Promises?"
"I don't understand. Please, don't do this."
He crouched, grabbing the girl's hair in his fist and gently pulling
it back until she stared into his eyes. The gun remained in his
right hand. He stroked her cheek with it.
"You told Kate over there that you wouldn't see," and he almost spat
the word into Karen's face, "HIM, anymore. And yet, here you are,
kissing him."
"Please, I ..."
The man was silent as Karen gasped at the pain in her scalp.
"What are you doing with Kate. Leave her alone."
"I think you should be far more concerned for yourself, little
girl."
Karen paled.
"Please. Let me dress. I'll do anything you want. Do you want to tie
me up? Like her?"
Karen understood, instinctually, what this man wanted.
"Oh, don't worry, you'll be tied up soon."
The man stood, and kicked at Karen's discarded clothing, scattering
it. Karen lowered her head, her body shaking.
He wound his hand back into the girl's hair, and tugged.
Karen began to crawl.
	

Chapter 26

© Copyright 2003 - Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved

"You like him so much, maybe you'd like to fuck him for me."
"Please, no. I. I don't even like him."
The man was silent for a moment. She remained on her hands and
knees, her nose only millimetres from Darren's frozen crotch. Her
tears fell to disappear against his high tops.
"Please let me go," Kate whispered.
He crouched beside her, his voice carrying easily to where Kate
stood chained to the wall.
"I'll give you a choice, Karen."
She nodded, twisting her head away from Darren.
"Anything."
"You can give Darren, here, the ride of his life, or," and he
paused. Karen held her breath. "You can be spanked."
"Why?" she asked simply. "Why me?"
Kate knew why. Because the bastard wanted it this way and he could.
He could strip her, could walk her like a dog, could make her bark
like a dog, could make her have sex with Darren, could make her have
sex with him. She was his, to do with as he pleased.
"Choose."
Karen trembled, torn. Kate sympathised. If she'd been in that
position, she didn't know what she'd do. The sex would be far more
comfortable than a spanking, she thought. Especially a spanking
without her clothes. But it was Darren.
"Spank me, then," Karen said dully.
"Sure?"
"Please don't ask me that."
He nodded and lifted her head again by her hair.
"You don't have to make me crawl. It hurts," Karen whispered.
"I know," and he seemed to actually enjoy her discomfort.
She followed him as best she could, knees and palms scraping against
the pavement. She sighed as she was led to the edge of the field
where the pavement met grass.
"Up."
Karen shivered, but slowly got to her bare feet.
"Please don't do this to me," she begged.
He laughed, and pushed her shoulder. She stumbled, but didn't fall.
He guided her to a birch tree, urging her to place her back against
it.
Soon, he had her unresisting body bound to the tree, hands captured
behind her, and the trunk. She squirmed against the ropes, but
didn't complain.
He left her like that, and knelt by Kate's feet rummaging in the
backpack.
"You don't have to hurt her," Kate spoke quietly, hoping that her
voice wouldn't carry to the other side of the pavement. Karen
probably couldn't hear her anyway, her sobs were beginning again.
"I thought I told you to keep quiet, Kate."
"You did."
"Do *you* want to be tied to a birch tree, waiting to be spanked?"
Kate shook her head. He bent back to the backpack, pulling some
further lengths of rope from it and some tape.
"I'll have sex with you, if you stop this," Kate said. She was
risking his wrath, but she had to try, dammit.
He straightened, his eyes boring into Kate's. She flinched.
"She broke you and Darren up, though I don't see what you ever saw
in him. What do you care?"
Kate sighed, pulling at her own bondage. She couldn't do anything
with her wrists behind her, and a chain around her neck.
"I care," she said simply. "You don't have to do this. Let her go.
Let me go. Please."
He pulled a pair of handcuffs from the pack, and swung them around
his finger. He gave Kate a strange look, and then walked back
towards Darren, Karen's discarded clothes littered around his
frozen feet.
He bent near Karen's skirt, rummaging through it, finally rising
with whatever he'd found there. Darren stared back unseeing when the
gunman approached him.
Sighing, he returned to Karen.
"Please, let me go. I'll ..."
She gasped as he knelt and secured her bare ankles to the tree. She
pulled half-heartedly at the new bonds, but she wasn't moving from
the tree until he untied her.
Slowly, he began to wrap her breasts with rope, long loops around
the base of her breasts, tightening as he went.
"Please, that hurts," she whimpered as the ropes passed around her
body, around the tree. "What are you doing?"
He stepped back to inspect his handiwork. Her breasts stretched
tight by the pressure, jutted from her body, nipples flat. He traced
her right nipple with his finger, making her wince.
"Please, no. Don't touch me."
He smiled and withdrew. She moaned, pulling at her bound wrists. Her
body shook a little, but she failed to loosen any of her bonds.
"Please, you don't have to do this."
"No?"
"No. I'll crawl for you. I'll have sex with him."
"Who? Darren?"
She nodded, tears beginning to form again.
"You might anyway."
"Oh, God."
"How about Kate? Would you have sex with her?"
Karen's eye widened at that, and she shook her head. Kate's breath
caught in her throat, but she kept her mouth closed as she'd been
told.
(No. No. No. Not with Karen. Please.)
"Please untie me. I'll stand still for whatever you want to do."
"You can't."
She sighed. "What are you going to do?"
"Spank you. Your choice."
"Like this?"
He nodded.
"Oh, God," she murmured, probably realising that her backside was
against the tree. That left ...
"Oh my God, no," she looked up at him in horror.
"Would you like Darren to see you like this?"
She paled, somehow knowing that he was capable of letting Darren see
her.
"No," she said dully.
He held up a small featureless box. Karen's eyes were drawn to it.
"Would you like a smoke?"
Kate thought that she could see the other girl shaking, the stress
building in her nakedness and restraint, chemical release so close.
Meekly, Karen nodded. Forgetting that she was tied up, she tried to
reach for the pack.
Carefully, the man shook two cigarette from the pack into his palm.
She opened her mouth, and he set them both on her lips. She didn't
ask why there were two, probably assumed that he was going to take
one as well.
His hand cupped the lighter, and soon the sweet stink of smoke
wafted to tickle Kate's nose. She pulled against the handcuffs, and
shifted her weight.
He didn't take either of the smouldering sticks from her lips, but
he did begin to rip off small patches of duct tape. Karen's eyes
followed his movements, alarm not registering yet on her face.
He touched one of the cigarette between her lips, and she willingly
released it. He held it up in front of her eyes.
"I don't like girls who smoke," he said. Her face paled, the
momentary calm from the nicotine fleeing.
She tried to twist away, couldn't budge. He slowly taped the filter
of the smouldering cigarette to her left nipple. She tried to hold
the second one between her lips, but to no avail. Soon, it stood
taped to her right breast.
Tears fell down her face.
"Please, God."
"He can't help you."
She watched in horror as the sticks burned mercilessly towards her
bare flesh. Twisting, she tried to dislodge them by bouncing, only
succeeded in knocking the edge of the ash from them, crying out at
the warmth kissed her on the way to the grass beneath her bound
feet.
Finally, she looked up at him, tears falling relentlessly down her
cheeks.
"Please don't do this to me."
"You like cigarettes, it's only fair to let your breasts feel them,
too."
"Oh, God. No. I'll have sex with you, I'll have sex with Kate. I'll
have sex with Darren. All of you. At the same time. Please. Don't
burn me."
He smiled, and it scared Kate, even from this distance.
"Please."
Karen glanced down towards her bound breasts. The heat was
travelling down, inexorably. Ash fell as her chest rose and fell
with her ragged breathing.
"I'm going to let Darren spank you."
"Anything, please take them off. Oh, God."
He tilted her face up, her eyes locked with his.
"I'm sorry. I don't deserve to be burned. Not like this. Whatever I
did. Please."
The cigarettes that she'd lit in her own mouth, uncaringly continued
to do as they'd been designed to do. They burned. And Karen watched
in mounting horror as they did.
	

Chapter 27

© Copyright 2003 - Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved

The word felt obscene in her mouth. She had promised herself that
she'd never use it. Never. But she did. She had nothing else with
which to get his attention.
"Sir?"
He turned slowly, ignoring the mindlessly begging girl tied to the
tree behind him.
"If you take those damn things off her breasts, I'll," and the words
stuck in her throat, because she really meant them, "I'll strip and
crawl for you. I'll suck you, and I'll fuck you silly. Whatever it
takes. You can spank me, instead. If you have to, you can burn me.
Let her go. Please."
He glanced at Karen, satisfied that the heaters of the smokes
wouldn't reach the naked girl for a few minutes. She called as he
turned to go.
"Please. Take them off, please. Don't leave me like this ..."
He ignored Karen and walked across to Kate. He touched her hair,
smoothed it behind her ear. Kate flinched, but resisted the urge to
back to the length of the chain around her throat.
"I'll stay with you," she whispered. "That's what you want, isn't
it? For me to stay with you. Karen is beautiful, I know that, but
it's me you want."
She hoped that she wasn't mistaken, wasn't way out over a limb
cutting her way through it like Sylvester the cat.
He hesitated, thinking.
"Damn you, decide," Kate hissed. "Those fucking things are going to
burn her." She paused for a moment, unsure of herself, but then
whispered harshly. "And if they do, I'll hate you forever. I swear.
Don't you have any fucking compassion in there? Don't you realise
how that is going to hurt her?"
She had no idea if he cared. Probably didn't.
"You'll strip for me? Is that what you are offering? You'll strip
if I want you to."
Kate had seen what had happened to Karen, the gun against her
kneecap. She would strip, and quicker than Karen had.
"Please," Kate implored. She pulled at her bound wrists again, the
chain unyielding. Her vagina clenched, and she tried to ignore the
sensations.
"If she's willing, and I suspect she is, will you have sex with
her?"
"Who? Karen?"
He nodded.
"Anything. I told you that already."
He nodded, and turned away from her.
Kate's breath whooshed from between her lips. She closed her eyes.
(What the hell have I gotten myself into?)
She opened them again. Karen screamed as he ripped the duct tape
from her breasts, the cigarettes tumbling harmlessly to the ground
to smoulder in the grass at her bare feet. He reached forward and
ground them out with the toe of his running shoe.
Karen slumped, if the ropes hadn't been holding her up, she would
have collapsed in an undignified heap.
Ignoring Karen, he walked back to Kate until he stood in front of
her.
"You are a bastard," she whispered.
He nodded slowly. "I know."
"Why?"
He shrugged.
The words tasted stale in her mouth, but she voiced them anyway.
"Thank-you," she whispered.
He smiled.
"Don't thank me yet."
Kate shivered, felt faint, but she managed to stay upright. If her
knees buckled, the chain around her throat would strangle her.
She watched as he walked back towards the smoking area, to stand in
front of Darren.
(Darren, why did you have to cheat? Karen wouldn't be tied naked
to that tree if you had only thought with your head.)
Or maybe not.
He jammed the gun into Darren's side, so when he woke from the
timeless slumber, he could feel the pressure immediately. The girl
that had been kissing him, was no longer there, instead, the cold
steel of the barrel of a gun pressed into his side.
"What the fuck?" he exclaimed, instinctually moving away from his
puckered lip position. His eyes took in the gun, the girls, and the
weird state of the world far quicker than the girls had.
"Who the fuck are you?"
"A really nasty bastard that won't hesitate to shoot the fuck out of
you, you cheating prick."
The words had their desired effect, and the boy backed up another
step until he collided with a girl frozen for eternity.
"What have you done to her?" His eyes were glued to the naked girl
tied and unconscious to the tree. "Is she dead?" he whispered.
The gunman didn't answer, but kicked a pair of handcuffs towards
Darren.
"Put them on."
"Like fuck I will."
"I believe you know, Kate, right?"
His eyes swivelled towards the chained, but still clothed, girl.
He nodded slowly.
Kate spoke, her voice resigned.
"Darren, listen to him. If he wants you in the handcuffs, he'll get
what he wants. He'll tape those things to her breasts, and you'll do
whatever he wants. Please." And after Darren continued to hesitate.
"Please Darren, he'll hurt us. Not you. Me and Karen. Okay? Please
just put them on."
Darren turned to the girl, his chest puffing out.
"You hate me. Why should I listen to you?"
The gunman hung back, his gun not wavering from the boy, but not
rushing things.
Kate sighed.
"I don't hate you, Darren. Disappointed, yes, but I never loved you.
You didn't hurt me. Not as bad as that guy with the gun will if you
don't listen to me." She paused. "He taped fucking cigarettes to
Karen's tits. Do you want to watch that shit?" She hoped her
vulgarity would rattle him. The words tasted like raw lemons in her
mouth, but she forced herself to continue. "Don't you get it? He
won't kill us. But he'll hurt us. He won't hurt you. He'll hurt us,
to make you do what he wants. Just put the damn things on." She
rattled her own wrists. "I did. I'm still alive."
He flashed her a look of distrust, but bent to pick up the flashing
chrome.
Something in Darren's demeanour didn't click. Kate couldn't put her
finger on it, wasn't quite sure. Something about the way he was
looking at her, looked at Karen.
"Is Karen dead?" Darren asked quietly. His eyes kept glancing
towards the bound naked girl, taking in her nudity, her
vulnerability. Kate's stomach turned. He was turned on by it. A girl
could tell.
Kate shook her head, the red hair shaking loose from her ear. She
wished that she could tuck it back.
"She passed out. From fright. I think."
Darren closed the cuff around his left wrist.
"Enough talking," the gunman spoke quietly. Darren twisted, almost
ready to snap the other cuff closed. The gunman pushed the gun into
his ribs and walked him towards Kate. Kate shrunk back as far as her
chain would let her.
"Around the conduit."
Darren obeyed reluctantly, stretching up his left hand until he
could close the other cuff around the metal. Soon, he was leashed
as securely as Kate. His eyes left the gunman and watched Kate, who
shifted uncertainly under Darren's gaze.
The gunman approached Kate, and carefully unlocked the padlock from
around her throat. The weight of the chain slid the loop from her
shoulders. The chain swung back and clanked against the wall,
bounced, and clanked again. The gun remained trained on Darren who
watched warily.
Relief flooded into Kate, as she felt him fumble near her wrists,
pressing a key into the right handcuff. With a sigh, it released and
she brought her hands in front of her for the first time since the
encounter at the front of the school. She rubbed at her right wrist,
the other half of the handcuffs swinging crazily from her left
wrist.
"Wrist."
She held out her left arm, and shivered as the handcuff was removed
from her body. He slipped the key back into his jeans.
Kate glanced over at Karen. The other girl moaned, but hadn't quite
revived. She wanted to run over, check on Karen. She looked over at
the gunman.
"You can go after you've cuffed his other hand."
He touched her shoulder and pressed the handcuffs, which were still
warm from her wrists, into her hand.
"Why?"
"You don't need to know."
That probably meant that she wouldn't like the answer. Of that she
was sure. He waved the gun, and she stepped forward. Darren held his
right hand behind his back.
"He'll kill her," Kate whispered.
Darren paled, but the directness of her hiss convinced him. He let
her wrap the handcuff around his right hand.
As she reached up to connect his other hand to the conduit, he
pounced, his hand beginning to grip her throat. She choked, and he
loosened his grip a touch so she could breathe. Kate could feel her
face beginning to redden.
(What the hell????)
She cried out. The gunman turned his attention back from Karen to
the scene in front of him. The handcuff swung back and forth from
Darren's right wrist, grazing the tops of Kate's breasts.
"I'll kill her. You want her alive, don't you? To play with?"
"You don't want to do this, Darren," the man said coolly. The gun
was trained at Darren's head. Darren was using Kate as a shield, but
at this range, not a very effective one.
"Darren, you fucking moron," Kate croaked. "Let me go."
"You'd rather be with him?"
She couldn't shake her head without choking herself, so she
swallowed as best she could.
"I don't have a choice and neither do you."
The gunman spoke carefully.
"I could shoot you in the head, well before you kill her. You'd
hurt her, but that would be about all."
"Like you hurt Karen?"
The gunman considered that.
"I could help you," Darren spoke quietly. His hand flexed on her
throat. The handcuff swung crazily against her chest.
"Help me? I don't need help." The gun trained between Darren's eyes.
"Help you hurt them. I would," Darren's breathing was low.
Christ, she'd been right. He had been turned on by the sight of
them, especially Karen, naked and tied to that tree.
(Please, I'd rather be splattered with blood and brain, than
to have Darren help. Oh, God.)
The gunman smiled, and lowered the gun.
(No. No. No.)
Her windpipe felt like a big cement block had been lowered onto it.
She choked, tried to twist away. And suddenly she could breathe.
His hand slid away from her throat, and down her front. She again
tried to twist, but he held her, threatening to choke her again.
(Why didn't he shoot him. Please.)
His fingers found her nipple, it was betraying her, erect despite
her fear. He twisted and squeezed it harshly through her shirt and
bra. Kate cried out in pain, her hands rising to grip Darren's arm,
unable to budge it, dimly aware that Karen had awakened and was
screaming from the other side of the pavement.
(Please no.)
Her vagina clenched again, she could feel moisture down there. Her
twisted nipple sent signals of pain deep into her brain. Kate's
voice began to add to the scream begun by Karen.
(Please no.)
The report of the gun brought her head up sharply. She could feel
the whisper of air as the bullet passed her cheek. Darren screamed,
and his fingers released her, throat, body and breast.
Instinctually, she twisted to the left and fell, scraping her elbow
a little on the pavement. Her shirt tore at the elbow. Small chunks
of reddish brick and grey mortar rained down on her from above.
She was dimly aware of her own voice, screaming.
(Please no. Why, Darren? Why?)
	

Chapter 28

© Copyright 2003 - Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved

Dazed, Kate forced herself to stop screaming. Her elbow screamed at
her, instead. She was sure that she'd broken the skin, but the arm
felt whole. Her left hand pressed into the raw skin there.
Darren straightened, cursing, his left hand still restrained to the
conduit. His right ear dripped wet and crimson with blood.
Kate took stock of herself. Not her blood.
A drip traced down Darren's neck to pool near the collar of his
shirt. A chunk of the wall was missing only a few centimetres from
the side of his head. Strangely, Kate noticed a small fragment of
brick lying beside her left knee.
Karen, still tied to the birch, was sobbing uncontrollably, tears
falling to her bound breasts.
"You fucking asshole, you could have killed me," Darren shouted
hysterically.
The gunman lowered the gun, smoke still issuing forth from the
barrel. He stepped forward until he stood in front of Darren.
Darren spat at him. The saliva stopped mid-air. Darren finally
stopped cursing, and stared at it in wonder.
The gunman slipped to the side, and watched as the spittle sailed
harmlessly by his shoulder to land on the pavement.
Without another word, the gunman drove his free left hand into
Darren's abdomen. Darren doubled over as much as his bound wrist
would let him, a strange whoosh issuing from his lips.
He gasped at the air like a fish out of water.
Carefully, the gunman lifted Darren's right hand by the dangling
cuff that Kate had placed there and attached it easily to the
conduit to join Darren's restrained left hand.
Darren finally looked up.
"We. We could have been partners," he gasped.
Without another word, the gunman turned towards Kate, kneeling down
on the concrete. He touched her face.
"Are you all right?"
Kate's fingers rose to touch her throat where Darren had choked her.
Then her nipple, and finally her elbow in quick succession. She
slowly nodded.
The Timeman grasped her good elbow, and helped Kate to her feet. She
swayed there for a moment, the world spinning, but after she blinked
a few times the world righted itself.
"I've been hurt worse."
She realised that her ears were ringing.
He nodded, guiding her in front of Darren.
Darren looked at her with a mixture of distaste, pain, and jealousy.
"Fucking bitch. Why are you protecting her? Want her for your
fucking self?"
He wasn't addressing her, but the gunman standing behind her.
"I haven't choked her, haven't torn her nipples from her body."
Darren's lips sneered into a grimace.
"But you will. I know you." He nodded towards Karen. "What about
the fucking cigarettes? You would have *burned* her." His eyes
glassed over. Kate wasn't sure, but she thought she could see his
erection growing as he talked.
The gunman spoke slowly and quietly.
"Can you send her back?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I didn't think so."
Darren shut up, confusion finally taking hold.
"What the fuck are you going to do to me, now, dickhead?"
The Timeman smiled; Kate caught it from the corner of her eye. She
glanced back at Karen. The naked girl had managed to stop screaming,
silence beginning to infiltrate the world again. She still sobbed
once in a while, but her eyes were fixed on the proceedings here.
Kate returned her attention to Darren.
"... apologise to Kate," the gunman finished.
Darren looked up.
"Apologise? To that bitch?"
Kate couldn't figure out why he was so angry with her. She hadn't
shot him. She had barely spoken to him.
The gunman walked forward until he stood nose to nose with her
former boyfriend. How could she ever had liked this guy?
Kate watched as the gun was placed into Darren's shoulder.
"Ever felt a bullet entering your shoulder? Knowing that it will
never quite work the same ever again?"
Darren paled, and his bravado dissipated.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"To her," the gunman said.
Kate stood quietly, shaking her head slowly.
"I'm sorry," Darren said, though his words belied his stance. He
nearly spat the words at her.
Nodding, the gunman lowered the weapon from Darren's shoulder and
sent another fist into his gut.
"Fuck," Darren sputtered as he collapsed, struggling for breath
again.
"You didn't have to hurt him like that," Kate said as he approached
her.
"I would have thought that you'd appreciate it."
Kate shrugged. She couldn't figure her captor out.
"He's just an idiot," she whispered, "he doesn't know better."
The gunman raised his eyebrows. "No, I guess he doesn't."
Kate waited for a moment, her fingers massaging her injured breast.
Ignoring Darren for the moment, the gunman turned to Kate again.
"Are you ready?"
"Ready for what?" she asked guardedly.
"Ready to strip?"
Kate paled.
"Strip?"
"Before macho boy over there interjected, I think we were going to
remove your clothing, remember?"
Kate glanced back at Karen, still tied to the birch tree. She
sighed.
"You still want to do that?"
He smiled, nodded. "The plan has just changed a little."
"You're still going to spank me?"
"A little."
"Oh, God."
The gunman stepped back, regarding her from a slight distance.
"Please," Kate spoke. "Not in front of him."
"Why not?"
She considered that a moment. She could feel Darren's anticipation,
his eyes on her body. Even if he couldn't hurt her, yet, he
definitely wanted to see her.
"You have to ask?"
"He won't remember it, after I release him."
"I will."
The gunman nodded, considering that for a moment.
"Kate? We had a deal, remember?"
She sighed. She'd live, she supposed.
"I told you that I'd strip before I knew that you were going to let
him see me. Please. Just let him go, and I'll take my clothes off
for you. I'll do anything for you. I said I would."
He smiled.
"I want you to take your clothes off in front of him."
She choked back the threatening tears. Karen's voice floated weakly
from the other side of the pavement.
"You don't have to do this, Kate. Not for me. I'll manage. Somehow."
Kate turned towards Karen, her friend pulling against her bonds.
Yes, she'd manage, because she'd have to. Her mind filled with
images of Karen's breasts, cigarettes taped to them, and not only
two near the nipples. She shook her head.
Her fingers rose to her throat, beginning to unbutton the clasps
there. Soon, her shirt hung open, loose on her shoulders. She tried
to ignore Darren, concentrating on her captor's face. He was
watching her eyes, not her emerging bra.
She couldn't help the single tear, but managed to slip her blouse
and her skirt to the ground quickly. She hesitated, knowing that he
wouldn't show her mercy.
"Come on, bitch, show us the skin," Darren hissed.
She flushed. The gunman raised the gun, aiming at Darren.
"Please, no, he didn't mean it," Kate whispered.
The gunman looked at her strangely. Kate knew that Darren had meant
exactly what he had said, but there wasn't much she could do about
it.
The gunman lowered the gun with a smile. Kate didn't like the look
of that smile, but again, not much she could do about it, not right
now, half-naked, and at the wrong end of a gun.
"Shoes, too?"
She could have guessed the answer. Somehow, she would feel more
naked in bare feet, and she suspected that the gunman knew that.
With a sigh, and not even waiting for the answer, she pushed her
worn runners from her feet to the asphalt. It felt weird standing
there in her stocking feet. The pavement was warm, though, heated by
the spring sun.
"Take it off," Darren sang merrily.
She turned, her hands finding her hips. It struck her that in
moments, that cloth covering her privates, and her hips, would soon
be with her shoes.
"Can't you shut up?" she hissed at the bound boy.
Kindly, the voice of her captor floated to her.
"Kate? Ignore him. Just continue ..."
She turned away from Darren, who had been emboldened by the lack of
response from the gunman.
"Kate. Kate. Take it all off, Kate," he sang.
She wondered if he'd gone insane.
Sighing, she bent to pull her socks off. The soles of the socks were
already soiled from her standing shoeless on the pavement. She
stepped down on one foot, the pavement rough against her bare skin.
Nearly overbalancing, she managed to pull the other sock from her
left foot.
In a spate of anger, she tossed the sock at Darren. It struck his
chest and fell at his feet, like a white, dead snake. He laughed,
and she flushed at the ineffectual gesture.
She hesitated at her underwear. People had seen her in bikinis all
the time. Skin is a weapon. But after this, she couldn't pretend to
be at the beach any longer.
"Please," and she forced the term from her mouth again, "Sir, No
further. I'll strip for you. But Darren ... please don't make me do
this."
He waved the gun towards her.
"I could continue with Karen, if you'd like. She's already naked in
front of him."
Darren laughed, almost dancing in anticipation.
She turned towards Darren.
"I should have let him shoot you."
"Fuck off, bitch, and strip," Darren shot back.
"I hate you," she whispered.
	

Chapter 29

© Copyright 2003 - Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved

At the emission of the words, she began to cry. The gunman let her,
for a few minutes. Even Darren stopped goading her.
Eventually, as she knew that she would, she lowered the straps on
her bra. She turned away from Darren as she did so, tears still
falling silently down her face.
"Turn towards him," the gunman said.
She shook her head.
"I'll crawl for you. I'll fuck you. I'll even fuck her, for you. But
I can't. Please."
He was at her ear, his voice whispering.
"Kate. I know it's difficult, but I need you to do this for me."
"Why?" she asked, her voice wavering outside of a whisper.
Darren answered her, from behind. "So I can see you, my sweet."
She turned, her bra still partially covering her breasts.
"Please, shut up, Darren. This is hard enough."
He snapped his mouth shut, but she didn't think it would last long.
The gunman was still beside her when she turned around. Karen's
naked body remained tied to the tree in her line of sight. It
bothered her that she'd be naked in front of Karen, too, but not as
much as Darren.
"Kate, you have to trust me. I need for him to get excited by you,
by your shame, by your nudity."
This time she kept her voice down.
"Please, why?"
"You'll see. I promise it will be all right, and then he'll never
have seen you. Period."
"Easy for you to say."
He smiled, and touched her bare shoulder encouragingly.
"Please," she begged.
He shook his head and moved slowly away from her.
Slowly, Kate turned until she faced her former boyfriend. He
whistled.
Her face flushed, she quickly pushed the straps of her bra from her
arms, releasing her bare breasts. With a single motion, she slipped
her panties down her legs, and over her bare feet. She stepped out
of them, trying to keep her chin up, and the tears under control.
"Fuck," Darren remarked.
(Not if I can help it.)
The gun was beside her ear. Kate cried out, but managed to stay
still.
"Kneel in front of him," the gunman whispered in her ear.
(Her mouth right at the right height for ...)
"Please, no. I'm naked in front of him, isn't that enough?"
"Trust me."
(Trust him????)
She walked close. Darren's eyes weren't on her face.
She dropped, kneeling in front of him. Her mouth fell at exactly the
right height.
"Baby ..." Darren moaned. Then he tore his eyes from her, speaking
to the man with the gun behind her. "Finally saw things my way,
huh?" The gunman didn't say anything. Darren didn't appear to
notice. "I can spank her, too, right?"
"Something like that."
Kate whirled on her knees, scraping across the asphalt, eyes
pleading.
The gunman almost imperceptibly shook his head, motioning for her to
turn around.
"Touch him," the gunman ordered.
Kate shook her head, until the barrel of the gun grazed the back of
her neck. Tears fell without her consent.
She reached up, her fingers brushing at Darren's jeans.
(Oh, God, he's hard.)
She snatched her hand back. The gun pressed harder into her neck.
"Please, I can't," she whispered.
"You can, and you will. Cigarettes," the man whispered cruelly into
her ear. The images filled her head, and she withdrew, ignoring what
her fingers were doing.
(If he makes me unzip his fly, I'll scream.)
Darren was moaning above her, his hips pushing forward against her
palm and fingers. She felt nauseated; had to fight the sureness of
vomiting.
(Please, God, let him finish quickly.)
She felt Darren begin to stiffen beneath her. Ready to explode.
(God, no.)
And then her hands were gently moved away. She let her breath out,
as her captor urged her to get to her bare feet.
When he opened his eyes and realised that his stimulation was
walking away, Darren exclaimed, "Fuck, man, you can't leave me like
this. Please."
The gunman led her inexorably away from Darren. He couldn't see her
nakedness, at least her front. The gunman beside her turned slowly
to face Darren.
"Why not?"
"She's a cock tease, man. Haven't you ever heard of blue balls?" His
hips unconsciously pumped at the air.
The gunman nodded with a smile playing about his lips.
Darren began to sob, hanging in his bonds. Looking over her
shoulder, Kate almost felt sorry for him, but then, when she turned
back around, she wanted to wash her hands for a week.
"You can't do this," Darren whispered.
"Actually, I can, and so can she," the gunman said merrily.
                         <---===***===--->
Darren had fallen strangely silent, as if he'd been returned to a
frozen state.
The grass tickled Kate's bare calves as she knelt quietly at Karen's
feet. Karen had painted her toe nails a bright shade of red to match
her fingers.
After a while, she glanced up. The gunman was watching her, but
didn't seem overly interested in her bare breasts. Kate made no
attempt to cover herself, her hands resting on her thighs. He'd put
her here a few minutes ago, only a few seconds after Darren's moans
had ceased. Kate didn't look back at her former boyfriend over her
shoulder.
Her captor settled to the grass beside her.
"I don't know how long I can kneel like this," she remarked. Her
thighs were already aching from the position.
Ignoring her comment, he touched her right elbow. Kate winced, and
turned her arm so she could see the scrape there. It looked raw, but
it didn't hurt as badly as it looked.
"Looks painful," he said quietly.
Kate nodded.
Karen was quiet above her. Kate looked up at the naked girl tied to
the tree. She was as still as when she'd first seen her, kissing
Darren, a lifetime ago. Even the girl's breasts weren't moving with
her breathing.
(Is she breathing?)
"Is she dead? Are they all dead?" Kate asked.
"Karen? Darren? No. I just slipped them into slower time frames for
a few minutes so we could talk without interference."
"A slower time frame?"
"I collapse the time bubble, form sub-bubbles that move at a
different rate than us. They won't hear or see us until I release
them."
It didn't make much sense to Kate, but she was beginning to
understand the rudimentary basics. He did what he did by
manipulating time.
(Is that possible?)
She glanced up at Karen, her eyes travelling the length of her
bondage. Her eyes rested on Karen's bound breasts.
"You should let her go, you know?"
"Soon."
"I meant untie her, or at least her breasts. Look," and Kate
pointed. "Her breasts are turning colour."
She shivered, imagining her own breasts tied like that. Her
clitoris cried out, and she tried to cover the gasp as she willed
away the arousal that ensued.
(Just a lot to take in today, Kate. Perfectly natural.)
(Is it?)
"Why did you offer yourself?"
"Myself?"
"Instead of Karen? Why would you let me spank you instead?"
(Don't think about that!)
(Because maybe I want to be tied to that tree, instead?)
(No!)
"Because she's my friend, and you were hurting her. I can't watch
that."
(See, that's true, too.)
"What if I made you spank her, instead."
"I wouldn't."
He crabbed across the grass and picked through it. Kate watched him
warily. Presently, he held up the two cigarettes that had been taped
to Karen's breasts earlier. They were about half burned, but
squashed by his foot earlier when he'd released Karen from her
torture. Kate paled.
"See these?" Kate nodded miserably. "I'm going to put them back on
her breasts, light them. She can't stop me."
Kate shook her head, willing back the tears of helplessness.
He pulled the gun out, and pressed the barrel against the bound
girl's bare knee.
"I'm going to shoot her knee. She'll never walk again. Ever seen
the inside of a knee?"
"Please, God, no."
"I haven't either. Shall we find out together."
If felt like her blood had abandoned her face, and collected in her
nipples and clitoris. But her blood roared in her ears. She
shivered uncontrollably.
"Why are you doing this?"
He placed the cold cigarettes across Karen's still toes.
"Will you spank her for me?"
Kate choked back a sob, refused to answer.
"Will you spank her for me?"
Slowly, she nodded. Her voice, not completely under her control,
travelled between them.
"I'll spank her, if that's what you want. Just don't ask me to hit
her hard, please?"
She lowered her head in defeat as he smiled.
"Her breasts?"
Kate looked up sharply. She couldn't remember ever having touched
another girl's breasts except by accident, or in a hug. And then,
never nude, and never with her fingers.
"Her breasts? Are you kidding?"
"Got a problem with that?"
Kate lowered her head. She could see the cigarettes lying innocently
across Karen's bare toes.
"No. I'll spank her breasts. Please, don't make me."
She watched as his fingers flicked the cigarettes to tumble over the
grass like little cancer causing gymnasts.
"You can be a bastard, you know. You didn't have to do that. Didn't
have to make me strip in front of Darren. Didn't have to make me
beg. Didn't have to make me touch ... him." She let the tears go.
He touched her shoulder after a few minutes.
"He's not so happy about it now," he whispered.
"I'm not so happy about it, either. It wasn't your hands touching
him, was it?"
"Would it help if I said I was sorry?"
Kate looked up sharply. He seemed earnest, like a child that wasn't
prepared for the seriousness of breaking the vase but compelled to
touch it anyway.
She nodded slowly.
"I'm sorry for making you touch Darren. I'll make it up to you. I
promise."
Kate looked at him with seriousness in her eyes.
"Will you let me go?"
He grinned.
"You know better than that."
(I suppose that I do.)
	

Chapter 30

© Copyright 2003 - Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved

Karen's leg bent at the knee, a simple attempt to get more
comfortable in her bonds. Kate started, not expecting the movement
of the bound girl. Karen's toes wiggled against the grass.
"Up."
Kate reached down to push herself to her bare feet. She stood face
to face with Karen.
"Why?" Kate whispered.
"Why what?"
"Why were you kissing him?"
Karen paled, tried to shift in her ropes.
"Darren, that shit?"
Kate nodded in response.
"I don't know. He wanted me, and I slipped."
"You slipped."
Karen nodded.
"I didn't know he was like that."
"Me either, me either."
"My breasts hurt, Kate."
"I know. I'm trying to get him to untie you," she shot a meaningful
glance at the man. He ignored her, slipping the gun back into his
waistband.
(Misfire. Please.)
Kate's mind filled with an image of the bullet slamming into Karen's
defenceless knee, and groaned as she pushed it out of her head.
"Karen, I may have to hurt you."
Karen's eyes widened, fear beginning to enter.
"Because I kissed that freak, Darren?"
Kate slowly shook her head. How to explain that if she refused, the
pain would be so much worse for her.
"No. I don't care about that. I don't think either of us want him,
now. No. I may have to hurt you for him."
"Him?"
"The guy with a gun that tied you to that tree? Remember?"
Karen was silent.
Kate continued. "I may have to spank you. Your breasts."
Karen paled again, turning toward the man. "Please," she begged. "My
breasts hurt enough as it is. Please don't."
The gunman stepped forward.
"Hit her," he said.
Kate hesitated. Karen's eyes swam with tears.
"I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
Kate turned and hissed at him.
"Can't. She's in pain as it is. I can't. I can't."
He nodded, as if he'd expected as much.
"Guess I'll find some more cigarettes. Would you like to light them
for me?"
Kate trembled. She raised her right hand, palm extended.
"I'm so sorry, Karen," she whispered.
Karen braced.
In the end, she couldn't do it. Her hand fell, and lightly slapped
Karen's left breast, the tightness of the bound skin like a drum.
Karen cried out, both in discomfort and in surprise that her chest
hadn't exploded in instant agony. Kate's fingers traced the taut
flesh of her friend's breast. Soft skin. Flattened nipple, but
pretty.
Tears rolled down Kate's face.
"Please, I can't."
"Don't hit her again," the man's voice kissed her ear gently.
Kate's fingers continued to caress Karen's bare breast, like a
lover. Kate's clitoris sang for attention, she savagely willed away
the sensation.
(Karen's a GIRL. Stop it.)
(But I want to be there, don't I?)
Slowly, Kate sank to her knees, her finger tracing over the bumps of
ropes around Karen's breasts. Karen gasped. After she had settled
into the grass, Kate buried her face in her hands and wept.
When she looked up, the gunman sat cross-legged watching her. Karen
also watched her, a pained expression on her face.
"You offered to switch places with Karen," the gunman said. "Would
you rather that?"
Kate nodded her head.
"No, Kate," Karen whispered from above.
"You'll be tied to the tree, breasts bound like hers."
Her vagina clenched, but she tried to ignore it.
Slowly, she nodded in agreement to his terms.
"Can I ask you one thing?" she asked.
He nodded in response. He started to get to his feet.
"Why do you want to spank me? Hurt us?"
He smiled.
"I really don't know."
                         <---===***===--->
She watched as he removed the rope securing Karen's bare ankles to
the tree. After Karen's ankles were freed, the bound girl almost
absently stroked at her rope marks with her toes. Kate thought she
heard a small sigh of relief from above her.
He quickly moved behind Kate, while she continued to kneel quietly
in the grass at Karen's feet. Kate moved her hands behind her at his
gentle touch, unresisting.
Her freedom disappeared again as his fingers moved, wrapping ropes
about her wrists. She already missed the simple freedom to move her
own arms.
"You don't need to tie me up, you know," she said.
He shrugged as his fingers continued to wrap her wrists, lashing
them together behind her back.
He grasped her hair lightly, pulling her forward. She shuffled
forward on her knees until she knelt in front of Karen. Karen's
wispy blonde pubic curls filled her view, her nose centimetres from
Karen's sex.
Kate's mouth was exactly at the right height for ... She shivered
remembering her terror at being in this position with Darren. God,
Darren. He was still there, if frozen.
Kate sighed, resigned to her fate. If he wanted her to have sex with
Karen, she would. She wouldn't enjoy it, even dreaded it, but it was
better than the alternative. The image of cigarettes taped to
Karen's breasts remained vivid in her mind. Images of gun blasts
into the bound girl's knees followed, as she pushed out the images
of cigarettes.
If he wanted her to have sex with the girl, she would. She'd have
let him shoot Darren, now, she thought, but Karen, helpless and
naked? She shook her head.
He crouched beside her.
"Kate?"
"I don't want to do this," she murmured. Her earlier words haunted
her.
(I'll crawl for you. I'll strip naked for you. I'll suck
 you. I'll fuck you silly. I'll have sex with HER, if you want. 
 Just let her go. Please.)
"I know," he said gently.
"But you're going to make me anyway."
He nodded, a smile playing about his lips.
(And you're going to enjoy watching me do it, too.)
She shivered, pulling weakly at her bound hands.
"I've never done this before," she whispered.
He shrugged. "You're a girl. You'll figure it out."
She wasn't sure what that meant. She tried to back away. His hand
was there to stop her head from retreating. Karen's musk, clean and
sweet, assailed her nostrils. It didn't revolt her as she had
imagined.
Her groin pulsed again.
(No!)
His voice came from above her kneeling form.
"Spread your legs, Karen."
"Please, no," Karen begged. "I. I can't."
His hand dropped without warning. Kate watched, unable to tear her
eyes away, as his open palm struck Karen's left breast, the flesh
dancing within it's confines. It took a moment for the pain to
travel from the girl's breast to her mind. When it arrived, she
screamed.
"God, no. I'll do it. I'll do it."
He lowered his hand. Karen, crying, pushed her legs apart. Her sex
opened like a flower in front of Kate. The sweet musk of her
increased slightly.
"Please, no," the kneeling naked girl whispered.
He was silent.
A tear traced down Kate's face.
(I'll have sex with HER!)
She could see the white paper from the discarded cigarettes near
Karen's right foot, so innocent, but so compelling.
Kate glanced up imploringly at her captor, finding no more mercy in
his eyes, only a strange anticipation, or compulsion.
(I'll have sex with HER! To save her.)
Kate leaned forward, Karen's fragrance sweet and drawing her closer.