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Chapter 71
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"Breakfast, girls!"
A covered cart stood in the entranceway. He stood proudly beside it.
Leigh's belly rumbled, and her saliva glands squeezed. She could
smell coffee, and toast, and bacon, and pancakes. A stab of
uncertainty leapt into her stomach. Those smells could be for him.
She might have to eat oatmeal, if he allowed her anything at all. No
sense anticipating what she didn't have.
She stepped forward, her bare feet whispering across the carpet.
"You look nice, Leigh," he said.
For some reason, it made her feel good.
"Are we going to eat ... with you?"
He smiled, and laughed. "Of course, silly girl. Can't have you and
Kate weak for me. We have a lot to do today."
That made her nervous, but she tried to hide it.
He went on, oblivious to her unease.
"Bacon, and pancakes, and toast," he said, his fingers lifting
covers as he spoke. Her mouth watered.
"Kneel," he said. Leigh glanced over her shoulder. Kate touched
Linda's shoulder and together the other two girls fell to their
knees. Leigh followed, hoping that Linda didn't balk. The new girl
didn't look very happy about being told to kneel, but she did it.
He lifted one glass at a time, and gave them each a glass of orange
juice. Leigh tilted hers, and savoured the sweetness as it chilled
her belly. She sighed.
"Kate?"
The red head looked up.
"You were a waitress? Right?"
"In a former life. You want me to serve?"
He smiled, and walked to the sofa upon which he'd slept. He sat, and
watched.
With a laugh, Kate rose to her bare feet and slipped to the cart,
carefully gathering a full plate. As her hands moved, she asked,
"Where did you get this spread? Hmmmm?"
"A couple down the hall ordered it. The bellboy was just accepting a
credit card for it. I don't think the occupants minded that I
borrowed it."
Leigh turned, a sudden picture in her mind.
"You didn't hurt them, did you?"
He laughed. "You must think I'm a bloody monster."
(Maybe I do.)
"It looked like some guy entertaining his secretary. She was
maybe thirty, and he was like sixty."
"You didn't play with her?"
He laughed. "She was naked, in the living room. I don't know how the
bellboy didn't see her, but I don't think he did. And no. It took
me a while to even find some breakfast for us. I think tomorrow, we
make our own. I didn't have time for her. She's still innocently
waiting for her brunch, I suspect."
Leigh turned around, satisfied. He did seem to be in a better mood.
She hoped that it didn't change.
"My naked waitress," he remarked as Kate placed the plate on the
coffee table with a knife and fork. "Thank-you," he said sincerely
as she straightened.
"You're welcome," she responded automatically. "Can we eat now?"
He nodded, and Kate hurried back to the cart and began to place more
food on three plates. She hesitated as she picked up the coffee
thermos.
"Sir?" she called. He looked up from his breakfast. He hadn't waited
for them to eat, this morning. He finished chewing, and nodded.
"Can we have coffee?" she asked. "Can I get you some coffee?"
He laughed. "I don't drink the stuff, but you may, if you want.
Black, though."
"Thank-you," she murmured.
"I don't drink coffee," Leigh said. Kate turned to Linda, who nodded
her head. One of her hair clips sparkled in the sunlight.
"Cream?" Linda asked.
Kate bit her lip, looking at the gunman. "He said, we ... couldn't,"
she whispered.
"She can have cream," he said without looking up.
"Thank-you," Kate said quietly, and searched for some cream. She
poured it into a steaming cup, and handed it to Linda.
It took her a couple of trips, but she distributed plates of food to
Leigh and Linda, and one for herself, before she knelt beside Leigh
to complete a small circle.
Linda looked up, after examining her plate. Her face was a mask of
dismay.
"I think you forgot knives and forks," she said.
Kate sighed. "He doesn't allow us cutlery, Linda."
The girl looked shocked. "Then how do we eat this?"
Kate held up her fingers and pinched them with a smile.
"You get a little dirty, but it's better than not eating."
"You're kidding," Linda said. She turned towards the gunman who was
now looking at her with some interest.
"Actually," he said, "this morning, Kate and Leigh may use cutlery.
Only you can't."
Blood rose to Linda's face, anger beginning to rear in her.
(Oh oh.)
Kate interjected a little before Leigh was able.
"It's all right. We're used to it. I'll eat with my fingers, too. I
don't mind."
"Me, too," Leigh echoed. She touched Linda's shoulder. The girl
shrugged her off, and pushed herself to her feet. Her left foot
knocked over her glass of orange juice, but thankfully she'd already
drank it, so the glass was empty. It rolled across the carpet,
coming to rest against the coffee table.
"We've done everything for you. It's bad enough that we are naked
and kneeling to eat. Why the fuck do you have to treat me like a
fucking animal?"
Linda was shaking, but her voice remained even, almost detached.
"Why???"
He looked at her calmly, and leaned back wiping his lips. His plate
stood empty on the coffee table.
"Linda," he said with equal calm. "You don't want to do this."
Kate approached Linda, shuffling on her knees. She touched Linda's
thigh. The girl recoiled.
"And you! You do everything he fucking says, because you're fucking
pathetic. You aren't even female, as far as I'm concerned. A real
girl wouldn't put up with this shit."
Kate swayed back as if stung, her eyes filling with tears.
"I was just ..." she managed to say before Linda continued on her
rant. The girl stood at the foot of the coffee table, her hands
planted on her bare hips.
"I allowed you to keep me naked, like your pets back there. I
showered with them, like you asked. I even tried to look pretty for
you. I played your stupid game. I even knelt for you -- for them.
You even tried to fucking control what I drank in my coffee." She
seemed out of breath, even though she wasn't screaming. "Well, fuck
you."
"Where are you going to go?" he asked her.
"I'm not going to listen to your shit anymore, where ever it is,"
Linda finally lost her control and screamed it. She bent forward and
reached for his cutlery. He allowed her to do it. She straightened,
a fork in her left hand, a knife in her right.
He regarded the bare beauty in front of him.
"I'm going to the bedroom. Finding some fucking clothes, and I'm
going to put them on. Then, I'm going to leave. Is that fucking
clear?"
He smiled, and shrugged.
She dropped the cutlery in a jingle at her feet, and stalked towards
the bedroom. The door opened, and then slammed as she walked
through.
"Please, don't hurt her," Leigh whispered.
The gunman didn't answer, but leaned forward, reaching under the
sofa. The gun rose, as though it were an extention of his body.
Leigh shivered. He seemed calm, but she honestly couldn't tell, for
sure.
"Please, she's new. She doesn't understand."
Kate was crying, her hands buried in her hands. Leigh abandoned her
plate on the carpet, and shuffled over to the naked girl.
"She didn't know what she was saying. She doesn't know the
consequences," Leigh said, her words aimed at Kate and her captor.
The door opened with a bang. Linda stepped through. Leigh was so
used to seeing her naked, that the jeans, and sweater looked ...
wrong. Socks graced Linda's feet, and the girl stepped determinedly
towards the entrance. She stopped when she saw the gun again.
"Care to reconsider, Linda?" he said. He'd moved to the entranceway,
the blue pack at his feet.
"Don't hurt her," Leigh whispered. Kate continued to sob in her
arms.
The eerie standoff continued for a moment.
"You can end this, right now," he said quietly. "Take off your
clothes, and kneel. Apologise to me, and to Leigh and Kate, and eat
your breakfast. I'll only punish you a little."
She seemed to choose her words carefully.
"Fuck. You."
He sighed and turned towards the outside door.
Linda stepped with him.
"I didn't want to do this the hard way."
"Fuck you. So shoot me. I don't care."
He turned slowly.
"I still might, Linda. But what I thought I'd do first is shoot
Mark. You want to watch?"
Linda paled. "You wouldn't."
(He would.)
"Take off your clothes and kneel. Eat your breakfast like I asked,
and you don't have to find out."
"Fuck you," she said.
(Don't call his bluff, Linda. Please.)
He twisted the door knob. It was as if the door closer had frozen.
It probably had. The door remained open to the hallway. Mark came to
life, swearing.
Linda ran to the doorway, stopping, her hands on the jamb.
"Where should I shoot him, Linda? The balls? The kneecap? The
elbow?"
"Shoot me. I'm the one that defied you."
"Too late now. Where? Or shall I pick?"
He aimed the gun at his groin. Mark raised his hands, shutting up
and paling.
"Linda?"
He turned to face Linda. The girl was crying, now.
"Please," she said. "Shoot me."
Mark spoke. "Let him shoot me. Don't give him the time of day," he
said, though he didn't sound overly brave. Then "Aghhhhhhhhh."
A thin welt from the handle of the gun striped down his cheek. He
fell to his knees, his hands pressed to his wounded cheek.
"Shut up, Mark. This is Linda's choice, now." He turned back to the
clothed woman. "Now, should I shoot his balls, or his elbow."
"Please, I'll ... do what the fuck you want. Leave him alone."
"You know what I want."
"Oh God."
He aimed the weapon back towards Mark's groin. Linda closed her
eyes, and held her fingers at the hem of her sweater.
"Too late for that, Linda," he said quietly. "You'll strip, but on
my terms."
"Don't Linda," Mark said. That earned him another rap on the head.
He squawked.
Slowly, the gunman crouched, keeping his eyes on Linda.
"Listen, Mark. If I hear one ... just one ... word out of you. I
won't shoot you. I'll shoot her. I'll make you watch as I shoot her
tits. Do you fucking understand?"
Mark nodded slowly, his face pale.
"What do you fucking want from me?"
He straightened, and moved towards Linda. The girl backed up until
she stood back inside the room. After he stepped from the hallway,
the door swung shut leaving Mark out in the hall. After a moment, a
dull hammering began on the doorway. Linda glanced towards it,
unsure.
"First, I want you to kneel, then apologise, not to me, but to the
other girls."
"Why?"
But she was already sinking to her knees. A muffled voice in the
hallway screamed the girl's name, over and over as a hand struck the
unyielding door.
"This is difficult on all of you, including Leigh and Kate. I
wouldn't have kept them, if they were weak girls. They are far more
strong than you, and I think you know that."
Slowly, Linda twisted, facing Leigh and Kate. Kate looked up from
Leigh's arms. Leigh stared back at the girl, not requiring an
apology, and sympathising with her fear.
"I'm sorry," Linda said. It wasn't insincere. "I shouldn't have said
those things. I. I was angry."
"I know," Leigh whispered. "I don't want to see you hurt."
Linda nodded and then twisted back around to face the gunman.
She didn't sound nearly as sincere, but she said it anyway.
"I'm sorry," she said simply to him. "Please, I just want to stop
this."
He nodded. "You realise that I can't let it go, right?"
"I told you. Leave Mark out of this. I'll do what you want."
Mark's frantic voice quieted, as if he'd been frozen into a block of
ice. The hammering on the door halted.
The gunman crouched in front of Linda.
"What the kinkiest thing that you've ever done?"
"Kinkiest?"
"Have you had anal sex?"
Linda blushed crimson, but she nodded. Leigh hadn't expected that.
The girl could have lied, but she didn't.
"With Mark?"
Linda shook her head. "Please, I've apologised. I'll strip for you.
I'll eat with my fingers. I won't complain. I promise."
"I should make you fuck yourself with a vibrator, in your ass, in
front of Mark."
Linda paled. "Please, no."
He straightened, towering over her.
"Take your socks off."
She scrambled to pull the clothing off, leaving herself barefoot.
She returned to her knees.
"I'll have sex with you, if you'll let us go."
He shook his head. "Not that easy, little one. There's a chair in
the bedroom. Go get it."
Without hesitation, the girl clambered to her bare feet and ran
towards the bedroom. The gunman walked back towards Leigh and Kate.
Kate had returned to her knees, sniffling.
"She'll be a few minutes," he said to the remaining girls. He sat
wearily in front of them.
"I know that you both don't want to be here," he said quietly. "And
I know you're scared. You should be. But I want you both to know,
that what I said before? That was true. You don't have choice. I
make sure of it. She's wrong. You aren't weak. You aren't stupid.
You both are incredibly strong girls. Okay?"
Leigh somehow felt reassured, and Kate nodded slowly. She didn't
look completely convinced, but she seemed appeased. Linda wasn't
strong either. Leigh didn't know what was going to happen to the
girl, but she suspected that she'd be begging to obey, just to make
whatever it was stop. There was no choice. Not for the girls. Not
here. Broken? No. She was still Leigh, and she was surviving. Others
wouldn't, but she would. Somehow.
"Eat. Your breakfast is probably cold."
Leigh moved back towards her plate. He was right. The food was cold,
but they hadn't eaten dinner the night before, and she was famished.
Using her fingers, she ate as daintily as she could, and finished
the plate. Her belly, appeased for now, thanked her. Kate looked
refreshed, but kept glancing at the last plate where Linda should
have been.
The gunman watched them eat, and then pushed himself to his feet.
His face showed a moment of concentration, and then sounds began
again from the bedroom.
Linda reappeared, still clothed, but carrying a desk chair
awkwardly. She placed it on the floor near her plate.
He walked around behind Leigh and Kate, past the shaking Linda, and
settled back into the sofa.
"Tie her in, Leigh."
Leigh swallowed, but rose and ran to the front entrance. She
unzipped the pack and plunged her hands inside. She found chains,
and handcuffs, and at the side a few coils of rope. She extracted
the rope and approached Linda. The girl watched carefully as she
walked closer.
"Sit down, Linda," he asked.
Instead of sitting, Linda turned towards him.
"If you're going to hit me, you don't have to tie me. I'll stand
still for you."
"Somehow, I doubt that. Even Kate couldn't stand still for what I
have planned for you. Now. SIT." He said the last word with some
force.
The girl paled, and sat.
Leigh turned towards him. "Please. I. I don't want to be involved in
this."
His look informed her that choice wasn't an option.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. She knelt and began to loop rope around
Linda's bare ankles, tying them together. With his direction, she
looped the remainder of the rope around Linda's body, tying her into
the chair, her hands secured behind her back. At last, the girl sat
securely in the chair, though her legs weren't restrained beyond the
rope around her ankles.
"Please. I'm sorry," Linda said quietly.
He touched Leigh's shoulder, and motioned her back. She knelt
quietly by Kate and watched.
He walked in silence to the front door, and began to rummage in the
pack. He extracted a hook, and returned with the bowie knife that
had been Darren's. Leigh's eyes widened at the sight of that.
"Please," she said. "She didn't do anything we all could have done.
You don't have to cut her."
"Don't be silly," he said as he reached up and twisted the hook into
the ceiling, unerringly finding a beam. Linda twisted to watch as he
did this.
He crouched beside Linda's chair. She watched him, shaking.
"What are you going to do to me?"
"Test you."
"Test me?"
"Test you."
He held up the knife. He eyes followed it, fear evident.
"Please," she whispered as the blade picked up the sunlight and
flashed it across her face. "I'll strip for you. I'll fuck you if
you want. I'll ... please don't cut me."
He shushed her with a single finger to her lips.
"You'll do your best to endure what I'm going to do to you."
Chapter 72
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The knife flashed twice, and Linda sat as still as she could. Her
breasts, hidden for a while by the knit of her sweater peeked into
view through the two holes he'd cut for her.
The girl began to cry. Somehow, it seemed worse to destroy her only
clothing, than to simply make her remove it.
"Please," she begged.
Calmly, he began to wrap rope around the base of each breast.
Helplessly, she watched as he touched and tied her.
"That hurts," she said, but he ignored her until he was done. Her
breasts, tight, emerged from her ruined sweater like obscene hills
tipped with red. She moaned.
"I think she's learned her lesson," Kate murmured.
He glanced back at Kate, raising his eyebrows.
"I could have tied her nipples with fishing line," he said simply.
Kate clapped her mouth shut, and continued to watch.
The sight of the girl in the chair pulsed into Leigh. Leigh wiped
away a tear, trying her best to ignore the sensations.
Attaching a rope to each bound breast, he looped the cord up and
over the hook in the ceiling. The bound girl watched the
proceedings, shaking. Slowly, he lifted her bound feet, and while
supporting her legs on his thigh, tied the end of the rope from the
hook to her big toes. She squirmed, but didn't complain.
"Oh shit," she cried out as he moved out from below her legs. She
tensed her stomach, lifting her legs. If she didn't, the weight of
her legs tugged on her breasts through the rope through the hook
above her. She began to pull on the ropes holding her hands, and
belly into the chair.
"Please, no," she said as she realised what effort was required to
keep pressure from building on her breasts.
Ignoring her, he turned to Kate and Leigh.
"Let her go," Leigh begged. "She didn't know what she was doing.
That ... is going to kill her."
"It won't kill her, but she'll think twice before screaming at me
again."
"I think you've made your point."
He smiled and touched Leigh's cheeks. She didn't try to twist again.
"I want you to feed her her breakfast. And Kate?"
The other girl tore her eyes from the suffering girl in the chair.
"Let her go," she whispered.
"Get some ice."
Kate rose to her feet, not asking what the ice was for. She slipped
out the door, dancing around Mark who was standing frozen, his hand
raised to hit the door once more. Linda, faced away from the door,
didn't even try to turn to see her husband.
The door clicked shut, and Leigh picked up the plate of cold
breakfast.
She knelt beside the chair, while the Timeman settled comfortably
into the sofa to watch.
"You have to eat this," Leigh whispered. Linda was crying
uncontrollably, her face screwed up in pain. Her legs, shaking, rose
and fell as she was able to release some pressure from her breasts,
until the agony in her thighs overrode it. She cried out, each time
the pressure increased on her breasts.
Obediently, even through the pain, Linda opened her mouth. Leigh
ripped off a piece of pancake and slipped it between the girl's
lips. Linda closed her mouth, nearly choked, but managed to chew and
swallow it. It was slow, but Linda managed to eat most of food from
the plate.
A timid knock appeared at the door, much quieter than the hammering
from Mark. Leigh left the plate at the foot of Linda's chair, and
ran to the entrance. She pushed the handle down, and opened the door
a crack. Kate pushed the door open with her shoulder, and walked
barefoot into the hallway. Her foot kicked the pack, which jingled.
"What did you want the ice for?"
She was carrying an insulated bucket away from her body.
He motioned both girls forward, stopping Kate at Linda. Leigh
sighed, and came to sit with him, her bare thigh touching his jean
clad one. Idly, he traced her skin, and she allowed it, not having
much choice.
"Are you all right?" Kate asked Linda quietly.
"What do you fucking think?" Linda hissed. "It fucking hurts."
Kate touched her hair.
"It's not her fault," he said quietly. "And I don't want you to
swear anymore."
"Fuck you," Linda said. Her voice didn't even sound like her own.
He smiled. Leigh thought that his smile was almost one of tolerance.
After all, the girl was in pain. She'd probably apologise later.
"Kate?"
The naked girl looked up.
"Place a few ice cubes down what's left of her sweater, and then
come here."
"Noooooo," Linda yelled as the ice tumbled to lie against the ropes
just under her breasts. "Please, nooo."
Kate closed her eyes, and lowered the bucket by the base of the
chair. She walked over towards the gunman.
"Kneel."
Kate did.
He turned towards Linda. The girl was struggling with the pain, her
eyes closed.
"Linda?"
"Fuck you," she repeated. But she opened her eyes, and glanced at
Kate.
"Three."
"Three what?"
"Three times you've sworn."
"So fucking what."
"Four," he paused. Then he turned to the kneeling girl in front of
him. Kate paled a little. "Count," he ordered her.
"Yes sir," she replied.
His hand fell four time on her bare skin. One on each breast, making
them dance crazily on her chest, once against the skin of her belly,
making her yelp. After each stroke, the girl cried out the number.
The last one stung across her cheek, her head snapping to the side.
Leigh didn't think it was really hard enough to hurt her, though it
would have stung. A red blotch, where he'd hit her, rose to the
surface of her cheek. Linda probably thought Kate was being beaten
severely.
"Four," Kate screamed.
"Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop hitting her," Linda screamed. "Please. I
get it. I get it. I'll stop swearing. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please
let me out. I'm sorry."
The girl twisted violently against her bonds, only succeeding in
increasing the pressure on her breasts again. She screamed in pain.
"Please, please let me out. It hurts. So much."
He left Leigh and Kate to pace towards Linda. The girl was sobbing
now, mumbling nonsense.
"Linda?"
She looked up, tears falling down her cheeks.
"I'll do whatever you want. Just let me out. I'll take off my
clothes. I'll fuck you. I'll ... oh shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean
to swear. I'll have sex with you. I'll have sex with the girls. I
don't care. Just untie my tits. Please. Please. I'll use a vibrator
in my ass. I'll crawl. I'll dance. Just let me out. Please."
He lowered himself and slowly began to press on her bound ankles.
She screamed, but tried to resist. Her breasts pulled noticeably. He
spoke in a voice just above her screams.
"Do you know why you're here?"
"No. No. No. I don't."
"Better think."
"Fuck. Oh God. No. I'm sorry. I. Because I dressed. Without your
permission. Oh God. Please let me out. Please. Please stop."
It looked like he increased the pressure on her ankles slightly.
"Partially," he said simply.
"Because I disobeyed. Please."
He let his hand off her ankles. They noticeably rose, decreasing the
pressure on her breasts.
"Oh God," she moaned. "Please. It hurts. It hurts."
"I know," he stood and walked from her to join Leigh on the sofa.
Knowing it might get her punished, too, but ignoring it, Leigh rose,
brushing away his fingers. She ran to the chair, and knelt by
Linda's feet. She placed her arm under the girl's legs and lifted a
little, releasing the pressure for her.
He hadn't stopped her yet, and she continued to hold the girl's legs
up. The girl was trembling uncontrollably.
"Linda. Please, I can't watch this anymore," she said.
Linda tried to blink away the tears. "Thank-you," she said
gratefully. Perhaps, even in this state, she knew the risk that
Leigh was taking for her.
"I don't know what he wants. I just want out," Linda cried.
Leigh swallowed, an idea forming. "I don't either, Linda. Beg."
"I've begged. God, I've begged."
"We don't have any other recourse. Beg," she whispered.
"Leigh?" His voice rose threateningly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. She dropped the girl's ankles, and Linda
screamed at the increased pressure. Leigh fought back tears, and
returned to stand beside him.
"Where?" she asked.
He seemed to know that she was asking if she should kneel with Kate,
or sit beside him again. He patted the sofa, and she slipped in to
sit beside him.
"Ow," she screamed as his fingers twisted her right nipple.
"Please."
He released her. "I didn't say you could do that," he said simply.
"She made a fu ... damn mistake. She's in pain, can't you see that?
Do you have any idea of how much pain you've put her in?"
He nodded.
"She's a human being. She doesn't deserve that."
"I know," he said.
Her nipple ached, but in contrast, she knew that she had gotten off
light. Linda hadn't.
A quiet voice rose from the girl in the chair.
"Please, sir. I'll do whatever you want. Please let me do whatever
you want. Please let me strip. Please let me have sex. Please. I
just want to get out of these ropes. Please?"
(Good girl.)
He rose, and walked to the side of the chair. She looked up at him,
like a puppy might.
"You know that I can put you back into this chair, if I want.
Right?"
The girl nodded.
"Are you sorry?"
"So sorry. I'll do whatever you want. I swear."
He nodded and put pressure on the rope leading from her breasts to
artificially raise her legs by the toes. But it released the
pressure on her breasts. Linda sighed, still crying.
He released the rope from her breasts, and it slithered through the
hook to coil beside her bare feet.
"Oh God," she breathed.
Slowly, he traced her breasts, the tightness and the ropes. She
flinched, but couldn't move far.
"I'm going to spank your breasts, to remind you."
"Okay," she said quietly. After her legs had been released, she had
calmed a little.
He slapped her breasts, not hard, but enough to bring fresh tears to
her eyes. Incredibly, she thanked him.
"Thank you, for letting my legs down."
The spanking was far more comfortable for her than the previous
punishment.
"Untie her," he said, as he walked back towards the sofa.
Kate sprang to her bare feet, and ran to Linda, her fingers
immediately beginning to release the knots that Leigh had tied
around the girl, ages ago.
Chapter 73
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Kate knelt naked at the base of Linda's chair, carefully coiling up
the lengths of rope that had formerly bound Linda to her prison
chair. Linda slowly stood, keeping her eyes downcast. She rubbed
absently at her wrists.
Without hesitation, she stripped off her ruined clothing, folding
it, and placing it on the floor beside Kate. Kate glanced at Linda,
but continued to coil the rope around her elbow and hand, making
neat packages.
Linda hesitated at her panties, but they too joined her other
clothing on the floor. At last, she was naked, and she briefly
looked up. The Timeman was watching her, and she quickly averted her
eyes.
Without being told, Linda lowered herself to kneel beside Kate, her
hands clasped in her lap. Marks from the ropes indented her skin
around each breast, and her wrists.
When Kate finished with the ropes, she rose and walked back to the
Timeman, kneeling again at his feet. She lay the coils of ropes
beside her bare thigh, and lifted her eyes to watch Linda.
The Timeman rose, his jeans whispering against Leigh's bare thigh,
and motioned Kate to rise. The girl did, and then lowered herself at
his request to sit beside Leigh. Her thigh rested easily against
Leigh's, replacing the rougher jeans.
He walked forward until he stood towering over Linda. Linda looked
up, and sighed. Tears ran freely, but silently, down her cheeks.
With only a hint of hesitation, she reached forward and began to
unbutton the Timeman's jeans. He watched her for a moment, but when
her fingers began to tug at his zipper, he brushed her fingers away.
"I. I thought that was what you wanted," Linda said, keeping her
eyes from his face. He smiled down at the girl.
"Linda, I do."
She reached forward again, with a sigh. The tears had not stopped
tracing down her cheeks. He touched her fingers again, pushing her
hand away.
In sudden understanding, Linda clasped her hands behind her back,
holding them as though they were tied. She pushed her head towards
his groin, her teeth hunting for the tab of the zipper.
He laughed gently, and touched her head.
"I appreciate the gesture," he said as he crouched in front of her.
"I do. But I want something different from you."
She looked into his eyes warily, not moving her hands from behind
her back.
"Something different?"
He smiled, and rose again, motioning for Leigh and Kate to rise from
the couch. Worried looks on their faces, they pushed up from the
couch to stand easily behind the coffee table.
"Chair? Or table?" he asked them.
<---===***===--->
The hard surface of the coffee table pressed uncomfortably into her
bare back. Her head hung back, her long hair dragging against the
floor -- it was too difficult to hold her head up without the
support of the table top, at least for any length of time. The legs
of the table pressed solidly into her ankles and wrists, the ropes
holding her limbs securely to her prison. Another rope held her
belly to the tabletop, but it wasn't necessary. She wasn't moving
until he untied her, even though the ropes were only snug against
her skin. Her legs were tied to the outside of the table legs. She
should have been used to exposure, but this seemed excessive. She
couldn't close her legs, no matter how hard she pulled at the bonds
on her ankles.
She pulled at her right hand, but it didn't move from the table leg
to which it was bound. She moaned in frustration.
Slowly, she raised her head, her neck protesting. Kate sat in the
chair, where Linda had been bound only a little while ago. Kate's
hands were bound to the arms of the chair, her feet to the outside
of the chair legs. A rope held her bare torso to the back of the
chair. When Kate saw Leigh watching her, she smiled, though the
slightly worried look never left her face.
A moment later, Linda walked into the room from the bedroom. Idly,
Leigh wondered if Linda had been raped, but she didn't have a dazed,
or withdrawn look, only a look of fright for something that was
about to happen. She still held her wrists behind her body; either
she'd been tied, or he'd asked her to hold her hands that way.
Unable to hold her head up any longer, Leigh let her head drop with
a sigh.
She sensed movement to her right, and Linda's bare legs and toes
moved into her vision.
"Please, I don't want to do this," Linda murmured.
He laughed.
"Is that important, Linda? I can tie you back into the chair if you
prefer."
"But Leigh ..."
Leigh closed her eyes, not really wanting to hear the rest of it.
"Will suffer it without complaint, won't you Leigh?"
Leigh didn't open her eyes, but she spoke to the upside down world.
"Are you going to make her hurt me?"
"No. No. Quite the opposite."
Leigh sighed, not sure what that meant. "Whatever it is, I don't
have much choice, do I?"
She could almost hear him smile, but he said nothing.
And then a sensation to her right breast brought her head up despite
the pain in her neck. Leigh snapped open her eyes with a moan. Linda
knelt, her hands handcuffed behind her back, her tongue running
slowly and sensuously around Leigh's right nipple. Lowering her head
again, she tried to ignore the sensations, but couldn't. The tingles
of arousal returned despite her attempts to quench them. Her nipple
reacted, even while she actively tried to make it flatten. Her
clitoris cried out in frustration.
The ropes held her still, and the naked girl continued to use her
tongue, first on Leigh's right, then her left breast.
"Please," Leigh murmured. "Please, no."
<---===***===--->
He stood behind her left shoulder, obviously watching as Linda
continued. His jeans appeared upside down, his runners at the top of
her world. Leigh moaned as Linda's tongue delved between her vaginal
lips, teasing her clitoris, her breath hot and damp against her.
"Oh .... God ...." Leigh called out softly. Her hips rocked
involuntarily at the girl's attentions. Leigh could hear the soft
jingling of the chain between the girl's wrists behind her back as
she knelt between Leigh's thighs.
Leigh glanced downward, disoriented. Down was up. He seemed to be
watching Linda intently moving down there, somewhere.
"Oh .... please .... ahhhhhh," Leigh moaned. She tried to keep her
mouth shut, but a purring, like that of a kitten, emerged from her
throat.
Her hips rocked with the rhythm that she wanted. Linda's tongue
found that rhythm and teased her with it. She moved towards the
chasm, stopping on the edge. She glanced over, blue light beginning
to rise from the depths. She could feel her muscles beginning to
contract, her hips slowing of their own accord.
She sensed movement by her left shoulder, but it was easy to ignore.
"Oh, God, please no ..." Leigh cried out, as the sensations
disappeared, and she moved ever slowly from the edge. Desperately,
she raised her head to look over the mounds of her bare breasts.
His hand was tangled in Linda's hair, the other girl's face screwed
up in pain. Her hands fought uselessly against the handcuffs holding
her wrists. His hand held her head a full metre from Leigh's sex. No
more soft tongue. No more soft breath. No more easy pleasure.
Leigh's hips rocked in a fruitless mime of intercourse until she
willed them to stop.
"Oh, God. Please. Let her finish."
With a tug, and a cry, Linda struggled to her feet, his hand still
wound into her hair. Tears fell from her eyes.
He settled Linda back to her knees between Kate's bare ankles.
Crying, she shook her head.
"Linda? It's all right. I know," Kate said quietly, but loud enough
that Leigh could hear.
"It's not fair," Linda said. He pressed her head forward. She
seemed to resist until the pain became too great. Soon, her face
was buried between Kate's thighs.
Kate moaned, but talked after the initial touch of Linda's tongue
against her sex.
"I know he won't let you finish. It's not fair. I know," she said.
"I don't have much of a choice."
Her body shivered.
Leigh lowered her head again, the world inverting. Her breath came
in ragged gasps. It wasn't right, but her body wanted to climax.
God, she wanted to climax. The fingers of her left hand clenched and
then released slowly, rhythmically.
Tears fell upwards across her forehead, but unable to wipe them, she
let them fall gently through her hair.
<---===***===--->
His face appeared, upside down, in front of her own.
"Why?" she whispered. She could still hear Kate moaning, but there
didn't seem to be any danger of the other girl climaxing. He was
crouched in front of Leigh, after all. If Kate was close, he'd be
there, hand in Linda's hair, waiting to stop Kate's pleasure.
"Why, what?" he said simply. His fingers brushed some of the
moisture from her forehead.
"You know what ..." she whispered.
"Why I forced her to have sex with you, but didn't let her finish?
I'm going to do the same to Kate."
"Why?"
"You know why."
"I don't. Am I being punished?"
He laughed. "You deserve it for that stunt you pulled with Linda,
but no, you aren't being punished. If you were being punished, you'd
be lying there with your breasts being hit, maybe even bound. And
you'd be losing circulation in your hands and feet."
Leigh wiggled her toes. He was right. The bonds on her extremities
were secure, but she wasn't in any danger of losing circulation. If
it wasn't for her neck, she'd be almost comfortable.
"Why then?"
He smiled at her enigmatically. A cry from Kate grabbed his
attention for a moment, then he returned his gaze back to Leigh.
"It wasn't the right time," he said.
Leigh groaned as another spasm of arousal washed over her. Kate's
cries were becoming more insistent, and the girl's attempts at
controlling herself were drilling into Leigh's mind. Leigh closed
her eyes again, and sensed as he rose away from her. As he walked
towards Kate and Linda, he trailed his fingers lightly over Leigh's
left side, bumping gently over her nipple, and tracing down her
thigh.
She nearly screamed in frustration, but managed to bite down on her
cheek to stop it before it broke her lips.
Wearily, she raised her head to watch as the Timeman gently pulled
Linda from between Kate's thighs. Kate looked slightly better than
Leigh had, but tears of frustration still coursed down Kate's cheeks
to drip onto her bare breasts. It was a moment before the girl
gained enough control to stop her hips from rocking, and from
pulling against the ropes that held her. She kept her tongue, not
begging for release, having been warned through Leigh's experience
that such efforts were futile. At last, she sat still, staring at
the Timeman accusingly. Linda stood beside him, silently apologetic,
her hands twisting behind her bare back within the handcuffs.
Leigh sighed, and let her head drop again.
She'd only been awake for about two hours, and she was exhausted
already.
Chapter 74
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
They stood together regarding him from near the bedroom door. Linda
remained handcuffed, and light marks adorned the wrists and ankles
of Kate and Leigh.
"Go rinse off," he waved at Kate and Leigh. Linda turned with the
other two girls, but he stopped her with her name. "Linda?"
Linda turned to face him, a worried look on her face. Kate and
Leigh stopped, too, turning framed by the doorway.
"She needs a shower, too," Kate murmured. "She's been through
enough."
He smiled. "I'm not going to hurt her. Relax."
Kate retreated, somewhat mollified. At the last second, Leigh
turned, and then turned back.
"Can we ... brush our teeth, too?"
He shrugged. "You don't have toothbrushes here." He hesitated,
turning towards Linda. "Unless Linda says you can use her
toothbrush."
Linda silently nodded, not nearly as concerned about sharing her
toothbrush after performing oral sex on both of the other girls.
Leigh thanked Linda, and scampered off. In a moment, the sound of
the shower began, and he motioned for Linda to sit in the chair.
Linda paled, but didn't resist. She worked her bound hands behind
the chair back, and sat quietly.
He settled into the sofa, facing her.
"I've done everything you wanted, unless you're still angry from
this morning. Please, if you're going to punish me, can I know at
least why?"
He laughed kindly, and leaned back into the cushions, arms crossed
over his chest.
"Do you deserve punishing?"
She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head.
"I can't take any more. Please, I don't want any more pain. I'll do
whatever you want from me." Her eyes narrowed for a moment. "They're
gone. You watched me having sex with them, and you ... want me now."
Her voice had taken on a dull edge, almost withdrawn.
He inhaled deeply, letting out his breath slowly.
"No, Linda. I'm not going to rape you, if that's what you are
asking."
"If I offer myself, it isn't rape, is it?"
"I wouldn't have sex with you, even if you offered. You'd only be
offering to save yourself pain."
"Then why am I here? Naked? Tied up? If you aren't going to fuck
me." She seemed to use the term intentionally, her eyes carefully
scanning his face for reaction. When there was none, she relaxed a
little.
She shifted her weight, bare toes pushing the floor to better
position herself upright in the chair. She spoke again.
"I know that I don't really have any choices any more. I don't even
care any longer that you watch me, or that I'm naked. But ..." she
hesitated, her eyes glancing towards the closed hallway door. "...
please, I don't want you to hurt Mark. I'll have sex with you, if
you want. I'll do whatever you want. Gladly. Just ..."
He pushed himself up to rest his elbows on his knees.
"I'm not going to rape you Linda. There's a million girls in the
world that I could rape if I wanted. I don't."
He hesitated a moment, then spoke again.
"And if you behave yourself, I won't go anywhere near Mark. Okay?"
She looked at him skeptically. She didn't say anything further, and
he simply watched her silently until the sounds of the shower fell
into the eerie silence of the world. No ambulance sirens wailed, no
air conditioners hummed.
At the sound of the shower ceasing, he pushed himself from the sofa
and walked across to her. She stiffened, but then relaxed when he
didn't touch her.
He knelt at her feet. She shifted her legs to the side, away from
him.
"You're going to torture me more?" Her voice was tinged in
resignation. "Please, I don't want to be hurt anymore. I've already
said I'll do whatever it is you want from me."
He smiled at her, touching her left ankle. She hesitated, but then
gave it to him, moving her legs apart. She glanced down at herself,
blushed.
"You want to lick me?" she asked. His position seemed to indicate
his desire. Her query didn't sound like an invitation, but more a
statement of inevitability. He shook his head, and merely placed her
ankle beside the chair leg. Like he had done to Kate and Linda, he
wrapped rope around her ankle, lashing it securely, but not
uncomfortably tightly, to the chair.
"You are going to hurt me again," she sighed.
He looked up at her as he repeated the motions at her right ankle.
"I'm not going to hurt you again, unless you give me reason."
"Then why tie me into a chair again? You're going to tie my breasts
again, aren't you? That hurts, you know."
"Not unless you want me to," he murmured. When he was finished with
her ankles, he wrapped rope around her shoulders holding her back
into the chair. He ensured that the rope avoided her breasts. When
he was done, he checked the knots and then stood. She looked up at
him.
"Why, then?"
"To keep you safe."
"Safe?"
"Where you can't hurt yourself."
She sighed, not quite understanding. She twisted as he moved towards
the entrance of the suite. Mistaking his intent, she called after
him.
"Please, don't hurt him."
He turned. "Who Mark? He's fine. Missing out on all the fun with his
wife, but fine."
"You're leaving?"
He nodded as he crouched beside the bag. He unzipped it and rummaged
around in it for a moment. Finally he straightened with something
small hidden in his hands.
"You're going to leave me like this?" Linda asked. "Why not just let
me go. I'll starve."
He laughed, standing in front of her again.
"I won't let you starve. Don't worry your pretty head about that."
"If you're going to leave anyway, then why not let me free. Where
would I go?"
"You're safer like this."
Linda sighed, understanding that she wasn't going to win this. She
pulled half-heartedly at her ankles.
When she looked up, he was holding a clothespin in front of her
eyes. It took a moment for her vision to correct and for her mind to
recognise it for what it was.
"Please, no," she whispered.
Instead of heeding her, he reached down. She tried to twist, but the
ropes held her securely to the chair.
"No. No. No," she cried.
And then she screamed as the clothespin clamped mercilessly onto her
nipple. She screamed again as a second one clamped onto her right
side.
"Please, God, take them off. It hurts. It hurts. Please."
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Shaking her body only made the pain
worse. Dimly, she heard the sound of a hair drier, probably her own,
turn off with her screams, and then start up again.
At last, the pain eased a little, and she looked up into his
impassive face. He didn't care that she was in pain. Not at all. Or
if he did, he hid it well.
"Please, you can't leave me like this. It hurts."
He crouched, leaning on her bare knees with his forearms. His chin
rested on his arms, only a few inches from her sex. She could feel
his breath on her tummy.
"Please," she whispered. "You have no idea ..."
He smiled.
"Linda, I want you imagine yourself sitting here for hours while I
take Kate and Leigh out to play. Those things on your breasts, your
toes tied to your breasts."
"Oh, God." It could always be worse. "Please, no. Just leave the
clothespins on. Please." She remembered the pain of the previous
punishment, and wasn't anxious to repeat that. Especially not for
hours, with no hope of convincing the empty room to let her go.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her hands flexing behind her back.
She screamed again as pain flooded into first her right nipple and
then her left. She opened her eyes, expecting to see her nipples
ripped from her body, but they were intact, no longer sporting
wooden springs.
The hair drier silenced in the distance.
She wasn't sure, but she thought they hurt more going than coming,
but it didn't take long for her nipples to regain a sense of
normalcy. They ached, but she could handle the discomfort now. When
she looked up again, he was seated on the sofa watching her again.
The two clothespins sat harmlessly on the tabletop, aimed towards
her. So innocent looking.
"You won't need to do that again," she whispered.
"I know," he smiled.
He silenced, and sat back. She turned her head to watch the bedroom
doorway.
<---===***===--->
He'd left her faced away from the entrance, where the two
clothespins would mock her lack of freedom until they returned. The
lake spread out across the bay of windows above the hot tub. She
wished that she was still reclined in it, eating grapes out of the
hand of Mark. But Mark was silenced somewhere else, wasn't he?
Leigh and Kate stood docile as he handcuffed them beside the tub.
Their hair shone, and their bodies looked scrubbed as they stood
beside each other.
He showed them two patches of black.
"You're going to collar us like dogs?" Leigh asked incredulously.
"Unless you'd like to be muzzled, too," he answered.
Leigh shrugged and bowed her head. He gently brushed her hair aside,
and buckled the collar around her throat. She swallowed as she
raised her head. He did the same to Kate, and after she
straightened, he clipped two lengths of leather to rings set in the
collars.
"A leash?"
"I could attach one to your nipples, if you prefer," he remarked
easily. Leigh sighed, and stepped forward when he tugged her leash.
Kate moved forward, as well.
They stopped in front of Linda, who looked up at them wearily.
"How long are you going to be?" the naked girl bound in the chair
asked.
"Maybe forever," he replied.
Kate shot him a dirty look. Despite the collar about her throat, she
looked almost regal. She crouched in front of Linda.
"We'll make sure he doesn't forget about you," she said. Leigh
nodded in agreement.
Then he tugged their leashes, and the naked girls stumbled into
motion, chains clinking. He pressed the pack into Kate's fingers,
and she grasped it, swinging against the back of her thighs.
Linda twisted to watch as he opened the door. She looked away as
Mark began to fall into view.
"We'll be back soon," Leigh called.
The door closed with a whoosh and a click. Linda sighed, and turned
to watch the brightly lit lake beyond her prison. It was going to be
a long, long day.
Chapter 75
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Halfway between the eighth and seventh floors, Leigh tripped and
stumbled, desperately trying to catch her balance with her hands
bound behind her back. The leash connected to her collar slackened,
and Kate cried out, without actually thinking about it.
"Leigh!"
The other girl stumbled down two steps. In the periphery of her
vision, Kate watched as the Timeman, four steps below turned almost
in slow motion. Leigh almost caught her balance, but then fell,
trying to twist her bare body to better absorb the tumble.
"Leigh!" Kate's voice disappeared into the concrete.
When she opened her eyes again, her heart was hammering. No sounds
of pain, or the heavy thump of Leigh's head striking concrete
carried to her ears. The naked girl lay, instead, cradled in the
Timeman's arms, sobbing quietly. Kate let her breath out in a slow
whoosh of relief. Forgetting her own imprisonment, and ignoring the
leash connected to her own collar, Kate ran down the four steps to
join Leigh and her captor.
"Oh Christ, are you all right?"
Leigh visibly forced herself to stop crying, and raised her eyes to
Kate's face. Slowly, as though taking stock of herself, she nodded.
"I'm fine." The girl wiggled her bare toes, grimaced. "I scraped my
toes, but it could have been worse." She looked up accusingly at the
Timeman, pulling at her wrists still pinned behind her back. "If I
hadn't been handcuffed, I probably would have just grabbed the
rail."
He laughed gently, and set her on her feet. Leigh stepped gingerly
onto her left foot, but eventually put her weight on it. It seemed
to hold her, and she stepped away from the Timeman.
"I could have let you fall down seven flights of steps, instead.
Some gratitude."
Leigh pursed her lips. "You want me to thank you?"
He shook his head slowly, reaching for the girls' leashes again.
"Can you walk?" he asked simply. Leigh took another tentative step,
and nodded.
"If I'd broken my leg, you would have had to let me go."
He laughed. "You don't want to break your leg, just to get away from
me. Trust me."
Leigh seemed to accept that.
Kate felt a tug on her collar, and in surprise, realised that she
was still bound, and her leash was held gently between his fingers.
She blushed, but began to move forward. A moment later, Leigh
followed, watching her bare feet against the rough concrete of the
steps.
One bare foot, after the other.
<---===***===--->
The lobby glowed in the afternoon light. For the girls, it was more
like morning, at least that's what their bodies told them, however,
the sun remained frozen where he'd stopped it, flooding the lobby
with light.
Forgetting her collar and leash, Kate glanced around at the luscious
lobby. In real life, she could never have afforded to stay in this
quality of hotel. No wonder he wanted to bring them here.
Her bare feet whispered across the marble, Leigh walking quietly by
her side.
"I feel like an animal," Leigh whispered. If the Timeman heard her,
he neither prevented her from talking, nor acknowledged her
statement.
Kate shrugged. "Nobody can see us. I don't like it either, but ... I
think I'd like being shot less."
Her feet carried her three steps behind her captor.
Leigh sighed, but continued along in silence.
They stopped again at the main counter. He rested their leashes on
the marble of the counter in front of Rachel, who was again studying
something below the counter top, her eyes not watching the two
naked, collared girls in front of her.
"If those leashes move, I'll make the two of you regret it," he said
matter-of-factly. Leigh and Kate nodded, and stood relatively still
where they'd been left.
Kate watched as he walked towards the front of the lobby, towards
the bellboy who was watching the young lady in the loose top walking
by outside. He hesitated near the revolving door, but then pushed
through it standing out on the sidewalk.
(Run. Kate. Run.)
Kate shook her head, her eyes falling in distress towards the thin
piece of leather that trembled at her motion. It slipped and she
twisted to try and steady it. Despite her efforts, it fell, and
dangled from her throat. She sighed as it swung against her bare
skin between her breasts.
"Shit," she said glumly. Leigh raised her eyebrows, and moved a
little to try and return the leash to where he'd placed it. With her
hands bound, however, she would have to risk displacing her own
tether.
Leigh shrugged and returned her eyes to the front of the lobby. He
was watching the girls from outside, smiling.
"What's he going to do, kill me?" Kate said. She didn't move from
where he'd placed her.
"Punish us," Leigh said resignedly.
"Probably."
Leigh sighed and watched as he re-entered the hotel through the
revolving door and walked across the marble towards them.
He fingered Kate's leash for a moment, his eyes disappointed. For
some reason, Kate actually felt bad that he was disappointed, but
she didn't say anything.
With a sigh, he picked up Leigh's leash and guided the girls towards
the door.
<---===***===--->
The door was difficult for her. She couldn't push, and she was
afraid that her bare feet might get caught in the revolving cavern.
Leigh stood waiting out on the sidewalk, the sun glinting off her
loose hair. She stood beside a man in uniform, almost reminding Kate
of the beefeaters of London.
He helped her, rotating the door slowly as she shuffled her bare
body through the rotating glass. Halfway through, he stopped the
door. Kate glanced back at him. He'd stepped away from the door, his
hands held lightly at his side. He smiled at her.
With a sigh, Kate carefully pressed her bare shoulder to the glass
and pushed. The door seemed frozen, and she pushed a little harder.
He laughed, his voice seeming to emanate from a cave far away.
"Like it in there, Kate?" he asked.
"Not particularly," she replied. Leigh watched with a puzzled look
on her face.
"Maybe I'll leave you in there all day," he said.
Kate glanced around at her prison. Already it was getting stuffy,
only with her own body heat and breath to make the air stale. The
light of the noon sun would soon warm the enclosure to uncomfortable
temperatures.
"Please, no," she said, turning again to face him through multiple
panes of glass.
He grinned and stepped around the revolving door to the exterior
service door. It opened to his touch and he stepped out to join
Leigh on the sidewalk.
"You can't leave her in there," Leigh said evenly, her voice
filtering through the glass.
"I can," he said simply, turning away from Kate.
"I know you can," Leigh said, moving towards the doorway. "She'll
die in there. For the same reason you can't leave a helpless child
in a closed car. You do know that, right?"
He shrugged. "She won't die," he said.
Leigh slowly fell to her knees, and looked up at him.
"She's my friend, now," Leigh begged. "I'll do whatever you want to
let her out. Please."
He crouched in front of the kneeling girl.
"Leigh, my dear, you'll do whatever I want, anyway."
Leigh choked back a sob, her breasts hitching in the sunlight.
"Please let her out," Leigh said. "What fun for you is she in
there?"
He seemed to think about it as he straightened.
"She was told not to disturb her leash. At least, I'm not whipping
her for it."
"It was an accident. She didn't move from where you put her.
Neither did I. Please. You'll kill her in there."
The air in the small chamber was already getting uncomfortably warm
for Kate. A trickle of perspiration traced down her ribs. The
enclosure wasn't large enough for her to sit, unless she really bent
her knees, but she could lean against the glass. She did, knowing
somehow that her voice wouldn't carry to the two out in the fresh
air. She pressed her lips together, trying to stop tears from
beginning. It had been an accident. She shouldn't have been wearing
a damn leash to begin with. She wasn't a damn animal, was she?
His voice filtered in to her again.
"Would you crawl a block for me?"
"Crawl?"
"Crawl. On your hands and knees. In the middle of the street."
Leigh hesitated, but eventually nodded. "You could make me do it
anyway."
"I could. Would you do it for Kate? I won't make you do it if you
say no."
Leigh nodded. "Let her out, and I'll crawl for you."
He nodded, and motioned to the redhead trapped in the revolving
doors. Kate hesitated, but eventually shook her head.
She remained in the enclosure, leaning back against the door.
Chapter 76
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"I can't let her do that," Kate said quietly. "I'll crawl for you,
but don't ask her to crawl for something I did. Even something as
minor as this. If I die in here, so be it."
He smiled at her. He pressed a single hand against the glass. Leigh
stood at his side, a little behind him. Leigh opened her mouth.
"Kate, don't be stupid. Come out of there. You'd do the same for
me."
Kate shook her head. Another bead of sweat formed on her forehead
and dripped down her nose.
"No," she said simply.
He regarded her for a moment, then turned away. A tear fell from
Leigh's eyes, and she too turned away.
"You'll crawl anyway, even if Kate refuses to come out," he said.
Leigh nodded, understanding. Kate turned her gaze to the couple.
Leigh turned towards her, shaking. "Please, Kate. I. I don't want to
be alone here. I. I'm going to crawl whether you come out or not."
"At least it won't be my fault," Kate said quietly.
"But I ... please Kate. I don't want you to die in there."
Kate looked up, the building seemed to close in on her like the
small cage in which she stood. He could make her come out, could
easily force the door forward to push her bare body through, could
easily threaten Leigh, or whip her. She'd come out voluntarily.
He grasped Leigh's upper arm, and gently guided her towards the
street where there was less obstructions for her. The green Toyota
sat, still double parked, where Kate had left it, keys still in the
ignition.
"Please?" Leigh said as she glanced at the revolving door from the
middle of the street.
She looked odd, and vulnerable with her hands handcuffed behind her,
naked, barefoot, standing beside him.
Slowly, Leigh turned away from the lobby, and lowered herself to her
knees and waited while he released her hands. Crying, the girl
lowered herself to her hands and knees in the middle of the lane. If
it had been a normal day, the girl wouldn't have lasted a moment in
that position, there, in the middle of traffic.
Gently, he cast a glance towards Kate, and then tugged at Leigh's
leash. With a cry, Leigh carefully lifted her hand, and began her
awkward motion towards whatever destination he had in mind for them.
<---===***===--->
With a sigh, Kate rose and pressed her shoulder against the glass
again. It didn't move, and she cried out in frustration. He'd
locked her in again, with time. She could only see Leigh's bare
feet, moving slowly past the interceding parked cars. His head
bobbed slowly above the cars.
"Please," Kate whispered.
The air had grown completely stale, as she imagined a submarine
might feel like while underwater too long. It was stuffy, and
uncomfortable. She didn't want to spend the day in here.
As if he'd heard her whisper, the glass rattled at her weight, and
shifted slightly.
"Thank you," she whispered again, and pressed against the glass.
Slowly, the heavy door moved.
The sunshine, and fresh air, immersed her, and she temporarily
forgot her position, naked, collared and bound in the street. She
ran out into the road, oblivious to sharp stones, or the roughness
of the asphalt.
Leigh looked up and over her shoulder as Kate appeared, gasping
behind her. She hadn't moved very far, unable to crawl on the
blacktop. She smiled, and bowed her head forward.
The Timeman regarded her with a serious expression.
Kate was sure that she'd pay for her defiance in her cage, but she
didn't care anymore. The fresh air kissed her lungs in great gulps.
Slowly, he dropped Leigh's leash, and walked towards Kate.
Slowly, Kate knelt, her knees pressing painfully into the blacktop.
When he removed her handcuffs, she rocked forward, her palms joining
her knees.
Without being told, she fell into an awkward crawl, feeling the
roughness of the ground against her skin. When she caught up with
Leigh, he reached down, gathering both girl's tethers into his hand,
and gently pulled them forward. Leigh stumbled into a crawl, and a
moment later, Kate did, too. She was acutely aware of the image that
she must be projecting, naked, her bare breasts swaying beneath her,
her bare body like that of an animal.
(Oh, God. I'm a pet.)
She pushed the thought from her mind, and concentrated on moving
each limb, one at a time, slowly up the road.
"Thank you," Leigh whispered.
Kate found the strength to smile, and continued to crawl beside
Leigh.
<---===***===--->
Her knees, the tops of her feet, and her palms, felt like they'd
been sanded with coarse grade sandpaper. She grimaced as she touched
each with her fingers before rising to her bare feet.
Knees and palms weren't designed to be used for locomotion, she was
sure. Her breath moved in and out of her lungs in a tired rhythm.
Kate would never have imagined that crawling could be so exhausting.
And yet, she was grateful that he'd finally let them up when they
had crawled to the end of the block.
"Thank you," she whispered to him, still trying to catch her breath.
Any more crawling, at least on the road, would have probably begun
to make her bleed. She wasn't sure if she could have crawled any
further, and Leigh seemed to be just as grateful for her release.
He tugged the girls by their leashes, and they stumbled into step
behind him again. He guided them to the sidewalk, threading through
Mercedes, and Jaguars. He didn't bother to handcuff them again.
"Where are we going?" Kate asked quietly.
Without turning, he answered her. "Not much further."
She'd already figured that out because he hadn't forced her to
drive. She continued to follow him, not having much choice.
<---===***===--->
She hesitated before entering the revolving door, suddenly afraid of
its enclosed glass. But she wasn't handcuffed this time, and her
collar was more a nuisance than an impediment.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed through, following Leigh. The door
didn't freeze as she passed through, and Leigh looked relieved as
Kate emerged into the cool lobby.
He followed the girls, and ushered them to the security counter. A
blonde girl, her hair tucked up in a ponytail under a baseball cap
sat at the desk watching a rotund lady make her way to the elevator
bank.
He glanced at the girl, and then leaving Kate and Leigh to stand
against the front of the counter, he walked around and inspected the
security guard.
Kate watched as he worked the book out from beneath her frozen
fingers. He laughed before replacing it.
"Freud. Crap," he muttered as he returned to touch Kate's bare
shoulder. "What would Freud have said about this."
"Probably that you were obsessed by sex," Kate said, hoping that it
wouldn't earn her another punishment. She doubted if she could crawl
much further.
He smiled, instead of chastising her. "Probably."
He leaned over the counter, eyeing the girl's breasts.
"Is that all you think about?" Kate asked. He straightened, and
looked at the bare girl.
"What?"
"You were checking out her breasts."
"Actually, I was noting that her name was Andrea," he said, pointing
at the small tag pinned above Andrea's right breast.
Kate flushed, and nodded. Her nipples and clitoris pulsed as her
fingers traced the collar around her own throat. Sex was about all
she was thinking about too, since Linda had teased her to tears this
morning. She was sure that Leigh was in the same boat.
"Oh," Kate said. As far as she knew, though, he hadn't had any
sexual satisfaction since this whole thing began either. He'd let
some of the girls he took orgasm, but not Kate nor Leigh, but as far
as she knew, he hadn't forced any of them to satisfy his own needs.
After seeing naked girls running around constantly, most willing and
able, she was sure that he must be hurting as much as she was, and
she knew that his mind just had to be on sex. Why else keep her like
this all the time?
She watched as he moved over to the directory. The directory listed
the companies located in the building. Her eyes widened as she realised
where she was standing. There were at least seventy stories to this
building.
His finger traced down the small silver rectangles until it stopped
beside:
Blake and Sons -- Law Firm -- 4201
She idly wondered why he needed a lawyer -- at least here and now --
but before she had a chance, he'd motioned the girls to him.
"Ready for a long climb?" he asked them.
Leigh nodded wearily.
"Do I have choice?" Kate asked.
He smiled and shook his head. At least they weren't handcuffed this
time.
He held the door open for them, and the girls passed through ahead
of him. The fire stairs stretched endlessly up into the heights of
the building.
<---===***===--->
The concrete of the fire steps pressed roughly into her bare skin as
she struggled to control her breathing. Even the Timeman looked out
of breath, and he wasn't carrying the pack, nor was he struggling to
breath with a collar around his neck.
They were only half-way to the forty-second floor, which Kate
presumed was their destination. She idly wondered why he simply
didn't unfreeze the elevators.
They'd stopped at floor eleven, and now again at twenty-two. Kate
thought that her calves would explode, or her lungs. But
eventually, her breathing returned to normal.
Leigh asked the question, breathlessly, that Kate had considered
earlier.
"Why didn't you just restart the elevator?"
He laughed, leaning heavily on the railing. The girls sat on the
stairs above him, facing him.
"Too complex. I'd pretty much have to unfreeze the entire shaft. And
we'd be completely screwed if the thing stopped between floors,
wouldn't we? Who would we call for help?"
"Oh," Leigh said. She looked down towards her bare toes.
"Are you ever going to let us dress?" Kate asked.
He smiled. "But you look so much better naked, don't you think?"
Kate glanced down at herself. It was easier to accept her own nudity
in the relative privacy of a fire stairwell. But she shook her head
negatively.
"If we do what you want, will you let us have some clothes,
eventually?"
He smiled, motioning them to rise. As they began to trudge up the
stairs, he answered her.
"If you behave, perhaps," he said.
Kate smiled a little, before the steps again claimed her breath.
<---===***===--->
"Couldn't you have chosen a lawyer on the main floor?" Leigh
wheezed. She knelt beside Kate, her chest heaving. He leaned against
the far wall, between two elevator doors, trying to catch his own
breath.
Kate lowered the pack beside her, and held her hands to her right
side. Her diaphragm ached from the exertion, sweat trickling down
her neck from the base of her red hair.
They hadn't rested since the twenty-second floor.
"No good ones on the main floor," he said with a laugh.
Kate was relieved that he seemed as tired as she. He wasn't a
superman, at least. True, he had shoes and clothing, making his
journey a little more pleasant than hers, but he was at least as
much out of breath as she, maybe more so.
Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, proud that she could while
he still leaned against the wall breathing hard. Her calves screamed
at her, and her lungs felt like she'd been breathing volcanic ash
for the last fifteen flights of stairs.
The elevator hallway was lined in plush carpet, mahogany panelling
on the walls to impress big clients. The carpet felt like heaven to
her bare feet, after the repetition of the concrete roughness of the
stairs. Ignoring the scenery, she extended her hand to help Leigh to
her bare feet.
They stood quietly waiting for him to catch his breath. Kate
stooped to pick up the backpack, noting the jingles from within. She
hoped that he wouldn't retie them, but knew that it was likely that
she'd lose the freedom of her hands at least. He seemed to like the
girls wearing restraints, even when there was no danger to him, or
his person from them.
She sighed, and simply followed as he pushed himself from the wall
at last, and guided the girls towards the reception desk located
north of the elevator banks.
Chapter 77
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
He jumped up, resting on the opulent marble of the reception desk.
He swung his legs easily, ignoring the male receptionist sitting
frozen behind him.
The girls stood, Leigh with her hands held easily behind her back,
and Kate holding the blue backpack at her side, near a small
reception table piled with old magazines.
He motioned them down, and without complaint, the girls sank to
their knees. Kate released the backpack, and they both knelt with
their hands held in their laps.
"Why are we here?" Kate asked quietly, not looking like she expected
a real answer.
He shrugged. "I once had fun with a couple of lawyers here."
"What kind of fun?"
He shrugged again, deigning to answer her. Kate persisted.
"Are we going to be involved?"
"Why should I tell you?"
The girl shrugged, not able to come up with a convincing answer.
"Because we'd like to know what to prepare ourselves for? Maybe we
can help you," she said quietly.
He smiled. "I doubt it. Actually, I'm going to leave you here."
"Here?"
He nodded as he jumped back down to the carpet. He picked up the
blue pack from beside Kate and rummaged through it, eventually
extracting two pairs of handcuffs.
Kate didn't resist as he grasped her right wrist, slowly ratcheting
the cuff against her skin.
"You don't need to restrain us," she murmured.
He ignored her, and continued, picking up her left wrist and
connecting her hands together in front of her.
"Why do you still tie us up? Don't you trust us?" Kate asked as he
moved on to Leigh. Leigh didn't resist any more than Kate had.
"Trust you?"
"Trust us. You're leaving, and you put these things on me." Kate
rattled her wrists making the chain between them jingle merrily.
"I'm not going to run. I can't. Where would I run? You'd find me,
and probably kill me, even if I was able to get down forty two
flights of stairs." A sudden idea came to her. "If I could even get
past the doorway."
He continued to join Leigh's wrists, until they lay securely in her
lap again. He straightened.
"You don't need to restrain us," Kate said simply. "We aren't going
anywhere. We can't."
He smiled again. "I know."
"Then why?" Kate held up her hands, offering them up as if she
expected him to release her, but her face held the knowledge that he
wouldn't no matter how much sense she made.
"Because I want you like that," he said simply.
He thought he saw a tear escape, but she brushed it away with her
hands together rising to her cheek. She nodded, resignedly, pulling
gently at her bonds.
"You don't have to kneel," he said. "Read some magazines or
something, but stay here, in reception, even if you hear something
from inside. Okay?"
"Are you going to hurt someone?" Leigh asked.
"I don't know what I'm going to do next," he said truthfully.
He turned at the oaken doors leading to the offices beyond.
"I don't need to tell you not to get into any sexual activity,
right?"
Kate raised her face indignantly. "What makes you think we lack the
control ..."
He laughed, and smiled at her. He stepped forward, and crouched in
front of Kate. Kate watched him worriedly.
Gently, he urged her thighs to part. Reluctantly, she allowed it.
She wasn't spread obscenely wide, but it was wide enough for him to
trace her labia, one finger slipping past to briefly touch her
clitoral hood. She gasped and then moaned as his finger left her.
Slowly, she pushed her legs back together.
"God," she whispered.
"That's why," he said. "You don't want to know what will happen to
you if I think you two were fooling around in here. You asked about
trust? I cuffed your hands in front of you so you could read
magazines. I didn't tie you to pillars, or into chairs to prevent
you from touching yourselves. Don't make me regret it. Okay? Even if
you don't think so, I am trusting you."
Kate nodded.
He turned to look at them again before pushing through the oaken
doors.
"Why keep us aroused?" she asked simply.
He understood implicitly what the naked girl meant.
"Control," he replied. And then he pushed open the doors, and
slipped through.
<---===***===--->
A solid looking oaken door appeared in the maze of office corridors.
"William Blake," it proclaimed in fancy writing. If his bearings
were correct, the office occupied a good portion of the southeast
corner of the floor.
Curious, he unfroze the door and pushed it open with a muted creak.
Two men, one older, and one middle-aged, sat watching the older man's
desk. Both wore expensive looking blue suits, with matching ties. A
standard office telephone sat between them, and the middle aged man
bent towards it, frozen saying something to an entity that would
never hear it.
He wandered through the office, ignoring the men. A bar recessed
into the bookshelves on the north wall, and a flat screen stood on
the old man's desk gathering dust. Two chairs sat unoccupied beside
the middle aged man.
The view out the window was spectacular, the lake and the downtown
core spread out like a postcard. After a moment, he turned away from
the windows, and slipped back out of the office.
He turned left, and continued to explore.
<---===***===--->
She stood like a statue, her hand resting on the doorknob. She wore
a suit, as they all did around here, but hers consisted of a
designer skirt, with matching jacket. Her face wore a harried, busy
look.
He stepped up to her, wondering if the office beyond her fingers
belonged to her, or if she was merely visiting it. The nameplate affixed
to the door said: 'M Pelletier." The girl didn't look French, but she
was certainly attractive.
Her brunette hair was pulled back in a severe, but professional,
bun. And she didn't use excessive makeup. She didn't need it.
Her clothes masked her body's curves, but hinted at an athleticism
that her profession normally lacked.
He stood back, regarding her. Slowly, he circled her, ducking under
her reaching arm. He wondered who she was, and why she was harried.
If she were a lawyer, that would probably explain the harried look.
He didn't envy lawyers their profession.
He supposed that she would probably be more harried in a few
minutes.
He slowly slipped into a sitting position, against the far wall,
well away from the woman. He slowly calmed his breathing -- his
lungs still hurt from the awful climb up the stairs.
Slowly, he pulled the gun from his waistband, and unfroze the
safety.
With this girl, he suspected, the gun would be necessary. He didn't
know why, but she had that demeanour, even when frozen. It was what
he wanted in his captives. Oh yes.
Neither Kate, nor Leigh, lacked spirit.
<---===***===--->
The woman muttered something about a man or a woman named Tyler
before twisting the doorknob. The door began to creak open.
He cleared his throat, resting the gun across his knees. He hoped
that he wouldn't need to show the girl that it worked, but if he
did, that was life.
At the small sound, the woman whirled, her skirt flaring as she did.
The door slipped closed with a click as she turned.
Her eyes first looked confused, but then lowered to where he sat
against the wall. Instead of his face, her eyes found the weapon
lying almost innocently in her gaze across his knees.
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted to say something.
Chapter 78
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The television hummed with a high pitched squeal that most people
couldn't hear, but no picture appeared on the screen, only blankness
staring out at her.
Dawn sighed, and sipped at the glass of milk that she had pried from
the stubborn refrigerator a few minutes earlier. She didn't know
what she exactly expected on the television, certainly not the
standard daytime drivel, but perhaps a cover story flashing across
CNN decrying the strange state of the world.
Instead, the television refused to acknowledge her -- not even
static buzzing out into the world.
(What are you going to do, Dawnie?)
(I don't know.)
(Find him?)
She picked up the remote control, surprised that her time bubble
seemed to encapsulate it almost without thought. She thumbed the
power button, and the high pitched squeal from the set silenced.
Belatedly, she realised that she merely could have released the
television from the time bubble she'd struggled to cast around it.
A faint squeeze between her legs stirred. She gasped, dropping the
remote. The sexual tingling returned like a horse rising from a trot
to a gallop. The remote fell from her fingers, slipping from the
time bubble in a small flash of light. It disappeared, only to
reappear on the coffee table from where she'd picked it up moments
before.
She gasped again, as she was pulled unwillingly back towards them.
She forced her eyes open, regarding the blue haze of the universe as
it slipped by her.
(Nice going, Pandora. Nice going.)
She felt her sex pulse again, and she cried out at the intensity. In
the real world, not the more hazy copy far away, she tried to force
her fingers away from her breast, and from delving into her lap.
Moaning, Dawn tilted over, drawing her knees to her chest, wrapping
her arms around her calves for safety.
It was Kate, she was sure. She was beginning to recognise them. Her
hands seemed to be free, for once, but she remained naked, and cool.
Something heavy hung around her throat, and her palms and knees felt
scraped like she'd had a run in with a mad woodworker's sanding
block.
A slight weight fell from her throat, twitching between her bare
breasts, but Kate wasn't looking down, so she couldn't see what it
was.
The Timeman walked around a pretty blonde girl in a baseball cap who
looked as frozen as the other people of the world. The cap read:
'Security'. There was a name tag pinned above her right breast, but
Dawn couldn't read it.
At least the girls weren't in pain this time. Nevertheless, Dawn
felt her body tingling, sexual energy flowing through her veins.
The Timeman looked up, and began to walk back towards the naked
girls.
An irrational fear of what would happen if she stayed yanked Dawn
out of the vision, back to where she lay curled up on the sofa. The
television stared at her accusingly. Surprisingly, her fingers
seemed to be behaving, clasped around her legs. Her body throbbed,
but for once, her fingers seemed to be listening to her. She didn't
have to fight them away from her erogenous zones.
She knew the place, the security desk seemed familiar to her.
(Where? Where? Where?)
<---===***===--->
She didn't fight it when the visions pulled her again. Her body
rocked slightly as the haze overtook her, but she wasn't afraid.
Calm descended.
Again, she appeared to be inhabiting the girl named Kate, and she
stood approximately where she had while the Timeman had examined the
security girl. But she was facing away from the desk towards a
silver wall.
(Silver wall?)
The girl named Leigh, Dawn remembered from various trips into her
body and mind, stood easily beside Kate. She wore a leather collar,
seemingly locked to her throat, a leash descending from a ring to
hang easily between the girl's bare breasts. Leigh didn't seem
perturbed about the symbols of her captivity, almost as if she were
used to them.
Dawn's palms and knees still ached, and she could feel attire
similar to Leigh's, adorning Kate's body. With Kate, she watched the
Timeman as he traced his finger down the silver tiles.
(I crawled. Down the middle of the road.)
The thought jolted her, and she fought her body's response to it.
Why the thought of Kate, or herself, crawling down a busy street,
naked, should arouse her, she didn't know. Intuitively, she knew
because it aroused Kate, but the reasoning bubbled just below her
consciousness.
The finger stopped on one that read: 'Blake and Sons - Law Firm -
4201'.
She could read it because Kate focused on it.
"Ready for a long climb?" he asked.
"Do I have a choice?" Dawn said in Kate's voice.
<---===***===--->
Her lungs burned, and her calves felt like they had been poked with
red hot irons. She collapsed with Leigh, the roughness of the
concrete stairs pressing against her spine and bare bottom.
She didn't care. Kate had stopped climbing, and that was enough for
now. When the dots of bright light began to fade from behind her
eyelids, she sighed with the naked girl, sympathising with her pain.
At least the Timeman hadn't made the girls climb the stairs in
handcuffs.
Dawn, in the real world, on her couch, rocked and tried to control
her real breathing as air rasped in and out of her lungs, rattling
through the still living room. She hugged her knees harder, trying
to understand why her real body felt what Kate was feeling. She
could feel the concrete against the bare soles of her feet, and the
burning of her calf muscles.
It wouldn't fade if she pulled out, she knew, but the climb was
merely filled with the girl's panting and the heat their bodies
generated in the deserted stairwell. Relatively innocent. She
stayed.
"Are you ever going to let us dress?" Kate/Dawn asked.
He smiled. "But you look so much better naked, don't you think?"
Dawn sighed, and returned to her more clothed existence. The
universe didn't resist her efforts this time, and she slipped back
without a murmur. Her body throbbed again, but it wasn't as
insistent.
She glanced down at herself, her sweatshirt and jeans seemed so much
like a privilege. She wished she could share it with Kate and Leigh.
<---===***===--->
With a sigh, Dawn pushed herself into a sitting position, and from
there, she rose to her bare feet. The phone book was more difficult
to free for some reason, perhaps the insistent throbbing in her
groin from her recent travels, but she tried to ignore the
sensations as her time bubble extended, and at last, she reached
onto the top shelf of the closet and cradled the thick book in her
elbow.
Returning to the sofa, she glanced at the television, still silent
on the cabinet where she'd set it when she'd moved in. Slowly, she
flipped to the blue edged business section, and traced her finger
down the 'B' column.
There is was. 'Blake and Sons - Law Firm'. There was a useless
number there -- Dawn was sure that telephones were as useful here as
her television -- but that wasn't what she was interested in.
Before the telephone number, an address glared out at her.
Before she could take note of the address, the phone book jittered
in her hand, and she was pulled back into the blue haze.
<---===***===--->
A well dressed woman, perhaps in her late twenties, stood in a
nicely decorated hallway, her hand on a doorknob to an office. Dawn
looked down at herself, expecting to see Kate's nudity, but instead,
only empty air greeted her. She seemed to be anchorless, not
attached to any particular girl. This was new.
The Timeman circled the woman before lowering himself to sit on the
floor under a bright watercolour of a house resting on the western
plains. Smears of wheat flowed in the captured wind. He pulled out
the gun.
The appearance of the weapon tingled Dawn's skin, and she felt
herself drawn towards him, slowly. She consciously backed up, afraid
to enter his body and mind. There was no reason. She'd never been
able to discern if Kate or Leigh, or Kelly had ever detected her
symbiotic presence, but they weren't Time gifted either. And so, she
backed up. Dimly, she was aware of the phone book sliding from her
knees, in a living room far away. The dull thud of it striking the
floor echoed to her ears.
The well dressed woman moved slightly, opening the door. She turned
at the sound of his voice, for an instant, it seemed that her eyes
dwelt on Dawn's empty form.
The woman had striking eyes, blue as the sea.
But then she turned to face the Timeman and his gun.
Dawn closed her eyes, and yanked. The universe didn't want to give
her up this time, but eventually bent to her will.
She didn't want to see the woman, and what he'd make her do.
(Somehow, I'll see it anyway.)
(Pandora.)
Her breathing was ragged as she bent to pick up the phone book. For
a few minutes, she sat quietly, her hands resting on the book, not
opening it. Sexual energy coursed through her.
(I don't want to masturbate. I don't.)
(I do.)
(I don't.)
And she didn't. Instead, she forced her fingers to flip back open
the book on her knees. She located Blake and Sons quickly, but then
averted her eyes.
(Do I really want to?)
(No.)
(Yes.)
At last, she focused her eyes on where the tip of her forefinger
rested. The address focused into her memory and she slowly closed
the book.
She leaned back her head, resting it on the sofa. She allowed the
phone book to leave her sphere of influence. The book winked out of
existence, and she was sure that if she looked, it would be resting
on the top shelf of the closet from where she'd retrieved it.
(Go.)
(Not yet.)
<---===***===--->
The vision nearly had a dreamlike quality to it.
She sat naked and bound into a chair in a room that she had never
seen before. A hot tub bubbled under a bank of bay windows
overlooking the lake. Pinpricks of sunlight glanced off frozen
whitecaps.
Her vision was blurry, tears hazing her view of the world. Her body
ached, especially her breasts and her thighs, and she wanted to
shift, but the ropes held her down securely.
When would he be back?
She didn't know, and neither did the girl that she co-existed with.
The girl tried to move her ankle for the millionth time, but the
ropes held her skin tightly against the chair leg.
The girl was worried about Mark, and of being raped, but her name
wouldn't flow to the surface. Dawn had no idea of who she was.
Dawn wondered where she was. Somewhere downtown, in the city core.
The view of the lake confirmed that. An apartment?
Who was Mark?
She didn't know that either.
The girl managed to stop crying for a moment, her eyes clearing a
little. She glanced down in front of where she was bound, the bare
skin of her breasts visible in the periphery of her vision. Fear
stabbed into the girl as her eyes gathered in two clothespins lying
innocently on the tabletop. Memories of pain, and humiliation
flooded into the girl's consciousness.
Dawn cringed, knowing where the clothespins had been, and where they
might go again. Her nipples ached in sympathy, miles away in a safe
living room.
(Clothespins.)
(No. No. No.)
The girl began to weep again, quietly by herself in her naked
prison. Dawn, feeling almost like an intruder, slipped out of the
vision, and returned to the safe living room with the silent
television.
(You've opened the box now, Pandora.)
Dawn nodded. Almost absently, she pulled her fingers from stroking
herself, and lifted herself to her feet. She was going to need socks
and shoes and maybe a light jacket.
Somehow, she didn't know why, but she'd been chosen. And even if she
didn't know the girls, or even if she could help, but she had to
try.
She stepped towards her bedroom again, determined that the door
wouldn't interfere with her getting her socks.
<---===***===--->
She lifted the backpack and stepped back outside, the fresh air
feeling like lavender across her face. At the driveway, she turned
slowly, looking back at the small house.
(Will I ever come back here?)
She honestly didn't know.
(I hope so.)
On the driveway, her battered old Chrysler sat, for once not rusting
any more. Half the time, the car would turn over, but not start. She
rarely drove any more, though she kept her license valid. Not that
licenses meant much anymore.
The address bubbled to the surface of her mind.
Way too far to walk.
She sat down in the grass beside the driveway, staring at the car.
It looked as big as a whale, impossibly large to reanimate. She
swallowed heavily, bracing herself for the inevitable.
Intuitively, she knew that re-animating larger things was harder
than smaller ones like the television or the remote. Complex things,
like people, or cars, were even more difficult. She had no idea why,
and didn't dwell on it. But pure cause and effect told her what the
effect of reanimating the car would be on her body.
She needed the vehicle. Couldn't find them without it.
She swallowed again, holding her hands lightly against her jeans.
She pushed, sensing the bubble expanding and resting against the
side of the vehicle. She pushed again, straining to merge it with
the metal and fibreglass.
Bursts of sexual energy cried out through her body, but she tried to
ignore the insistent throbbing. It intensified as she pushed again;
she sensed the bubble beginning to slip. She tried to redirect her
emotions into anger, happiness, anything but outright arousal, but
the universe wasn't being cooperative. Arousal flooded her, as she'd
been afraid it would.
With a sigh, she allowed her left hand to stroke her right nipple.
(Please, don't make me pleasure myself. Not here.)
And the universe complied. With a pop, as her hand lightly stroked
her nipple through her sweatshirt sending worse stabs of desire into
her, the bubble snapped around the vehicle encompassing it.
Slowly, dizzily, she rose to her feet, her sneakers whispering
through the grass, and then crackling on the asphalt of the
driveway.
The driver door opened without a sound, and she slipped into the
worn drivers seat. Her feet rested easily on the pedals. The world
spun, but she wasn't sure if it was an effect of her raging
hormones, or whether it was an artifact of the universe's warped
timeframe.
Swallowing, she prayed as she slipped the keys into the ignition.
The engine cranked twice, as her right foot tapped the accelerator
in a practised motion.
The engine roared into life with a rattling vibration. It sent
chills over her skin, and through her nerves. Her clitoris sang
with the stimulation, and she very nearly climaxed as she sat there,
hands clamped to the wheel.
(No. No. No.)
And the sensations ebbed, but remained boiling insistently between
her legs, hovering at the ragged edge of consciousness.
(I'm going to have to do it.)
(Maybe not.)
(Who are you kidding, Pandora?)
She sighed, thankful that her body hadn't won this time, and she
pushed the gear shift, grinding, into first gear.
The car rolled forward slowly, crunching down the driveway towards
the empty street.
"Thank-you," she whispered.
Chapter 79
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"You don't know how much trouble you're in," she said with an edge
of fear permeating her voice.
He shrugged, and pushed himself slowly to his feet. His head
obscured the watercolour hanging on the wall behind him. His hand
held the pistol swinging easily at his side. Her eyes never left it.
"I'll scream, and security will be all over you," she said.
"If you really believed that, you'd be screaming."
She bit her lip, backing up until her back touched the office door
behind her.
"They'd come, but you might shoot me before they did."
He sighed, and twirled the gun lazily. Her eyes followed every
movement of it.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice emerging as a whisper. Her
eyes left the gun to dart left and right down the hallway. Nowhere
to run, and nobody walking up the hallway to help her. "Money? You
can have whatever I have in my purse. It's in the office, if you'll
let me open the door."
"I want to know who you are," he said.
She turned her eyes back to him. He was tall, but otherwise normal.
"You don't know who I am?"
He shook his head. The gun bobbed, but suddenly it was aimed at her.
Her heart jumped in her throat.
"I'll scream anyway."
He sighed. "You might as well try it. It won't help you."
"You won't shoot me?"
She regarded him with the look she might a guilty client, trying to
determine his state of stability. Her throat closed, only a squeak
emerging.
"You can't yell louder than that?"
And she did, her voice strangely not echoing up the corridor. The
scream was featureless, no words, only an unusual sound in an
office, attempting to get anyone's attention.
As the sound of her voice died, the office remained eerily silent.
She glanced up the hallway, but no patter of saving feet, or shouts
of security, rounded the blind corners.
She turned to look at him, puzzlement on her face. He had known,
somehow, that screaming wouldn't get him caught.
"What do you want?" she whispered.
"First, I want to know who you are. Is this your office?"
She nodded, afraid to lie.
"M. Pelletier. Michelle? Mandy?"
"Monique," she supplied, moving slightly to the left.
His eyes followed her, the gun unwavering from her torso.
He leaned back against the opposite wall, and lowered the gun.
"Trust me, Monique, the gun works, and is loaded."
She nodded, fear still evident in her eyes and stance.
"The big office, down through the maze ... whose is it?"
She looked startled for a moment, then regained a sense of
stability.
"Old man Blake's office? I just came from there. Are you here to rob
him?"
"Rob him?" The gunman laughed. "Why would I need to rob him."
Monique shrugged. "Why else would you need to walk in here with a
gun?"
"Why were you in the big man's office?" he asked her.
"He was giving me a case. I'm a lawyer. He's going to promote me.
But what does this have to do with you holding a gun on me?"
Instead of answering her, he motioned her back the way he'd come.
She lifted her hands, like in the movies, and walked ahead of him.
"You look ridiculous, Monique."
"You're holding a gun on me, what did you expect?" she said. She
walked slowly in front of him, not making any threatening moves, or
trying to look back.
"You can put your hands down. I doubt if you have a weapon on you,
and even if you did, it wouldn't help you."
Monique slowly lowered her hands to her sides without stopping. They
passed the oaken doors leading to the lobby. The girls outside were
quiet, and Monique walked by oblivious to the two naked girls on the
other side of the door.
"Where are we going?" she asked him.
"To pay a visit to Mr. Blake," he replied quietly.
<---===***===--->
She stood with her back against the wall beside the door, shivering.
The two men, Blake and Johnson, sat at the older man's desk intently
regarding the phone placed on the desk surface between them.
The gunman walked up to the desk, beside where Johnson was sitting,
and leaned forward, hands braced on the front of the desk to either
side of Blake's nameplate.
"Allah-kazam," the gunman whispered.
Surprised, Blake looked up at the man who had suddenly appeared
leaning against his desk uninvited.
His eyes flitted to Monique, and then to the tall man's hands, one
of which held the pistol against the desk. Monique tried to signal
the old man with her eyes, but he ignored her, instead facing the
gunman. His voice emerged with the waver of age, but not with fear.
"Young man, I don't know why you are here, or how you got here, but
it seems rather uncivilised to be towering over an old man holding a
pistol. Why don't you have a seat?"
Blake glanced at Johnson, a puzzled look gracing his features for a
moment. Then with a shrug, he seemed to accept that Johnson was
frozen, and continued with the conversation.
The gunman continued to stand.
"I'll talk to you the way you are, but you'd be more comfortable in
a chair. We are civilised here, are we not?"
The gunman regarded the old man almost suspiciously, but slowly
lowered himself into the far chair in front of the desk.
"That's better, my young man," the older man said. He leaned back
into the chair, apparently unafraid of the weapon still pointed at
him. "You might offer Miss Pelletier a seat, as well."
He turned towards the girl, and said, "Monique, if you want, you can
sit on the floor."
"That isn't exactly what I meant," Blake said, but as the woman
slipped to the floor, he shrugged and turned back towards the
gunman.
The gunman spoke slowly. "You aren't afraid."
The older man smiled, and tucked his hands behind his neck.
"Young man, I've seen guns before, and I've faced death before.
I've lived my life, and though I really don't understand the
necessity of threats, or scaring my staff, I accept that you think
it is necessary. I also do not wish to die today. The safety is off
that toy gun you're waving around, and though I'm sure that it is
loaded, and you know how to fire it, I would prefer if you'd lower
it. Neither I, nor Miss Pelletier, nor our frozen friend here is a
threat to you."
The gunman lowered the gun, placing it across his jeans.
"All right."
"There doesn't need to be bloodshed here," Blake continued, "The
wall safe is behind that picture." He pointed a hand that shook more
with age than fright, at another watercolour near a bookshelf. "The
combination is rather complex, but I can open it for you, or
describe how you might open it yourself."
The gunman smiled, and leaned back into the plushness of the chair.
He crossed his arms over his chest.
"There is in excess of one hundred thousand dollars in there. If
you'd like, I can easily provide more through unbrokered accounts."
"What makes you think that I want your money?" the gunman said
quietly.
Blake looked taken aback for a moment, but then his eyes grew more
insightful.
"I see," he said in the same calm voice he'd been using so far. "It
cannot be me that you wish." His eyes flit over to Monique hugging
her knees and sitting by the doorway. "What will it take to free
her?"
"You're smart," the gunman said.
"Young man, I didn't survive wars with stupidity."
"I wouldn't suggest that, sir."
"What will it take?"
"Take?"
"To free Miss Pelletier from your clutches. What is it that you
want, if not money. Information? Favours? Extortion?"
The gunman laughed. "I'll let her go when I'm ready. You
misunderstand me."
"I see. I cannot claim to understand what is going on here, or why
you are sitting in my office with a weapon that can only be used to
kill. And I suspect that the argument of legal ramifications would
be ... useless to you. You are aware of where you tread."
The gunman nodded. Blake closed his mouth as the gunman leaned over
the arm of the chair and gathered something from the pack beside
him. A pair of handcuffs gleamed in the afternoon sun. Blake didn't
seem surprised.
Without turning, the gunman spoke.
"Monique?"
"Y-y-yes ..." she stammered.
"I'd like for you to handcuff Mr. Blake. Not tightly, but securely,
so that he cannot cause me any trouble."
"I won't," Monique said clearly from her seated position next to the
door.
He turned, and aimed the weapon at the girl, who shielded her face,
and turned away, stiff.
Blake's voice called from behind the desk.
"Young man, there really is no need to bind me. I'm far too old for
heroics."
He ignored the old man, and called again. "Monique? Last chance.
Mr. Blake over here isn't correct. This isn't only a weapon designed
to kill. It can also maim." Without turning to face him, he
addressed Blake. "Sir? Have you ever seen a bullet wound? One
placed in a shoulder? A kneecap? An elbow?"
Blake grimaced, and bit at his lower lip. "I've seen warfare, yes."
After a moment, he inhaled slowly. "Miss Pelletier? Such things are
never pleasant. And though I would endure them gladly, I fear that
you would never walk again, and you are young. I have seen this
man's type before. He would shoot you, and not pleasantly -- though
more from ignorance, I fear, than intent."
The gunman turned to face Blake who continued to speak.
"Have you ever shot a person before, young man?"
"I haven't needed to. Yet."
"I imagine not," Blake said quietly. "You have never seen someone
gut shot, or even shot in the leg, have you?"
The gunman shook his head again.
"You would not be threatening that pretty creature over there with
it if you had. But I do not wish for her to suffer to satisfy your
curiosity. If you wish me bound, I will gladly submit. I thought
that I had made that clear. You do not require to restrain me. I am
no threat to you, or your plans, but if you wish it, I will allow it
without fight."
"I won't handcuff him," Monique said defiantly from the floor.
"Miss Pelletier, you will have a wonderful life. Such
inconsequentials are not worth harm to you. I willingly will allow
it, and I don't mind. Let him bind me, through you. Miss Pelletier?"
The girl looked up, and slowly shook her head. She was fighting back
tears evident upon her eyelids.
"Miss Pelletier. It is not worth the consequences."
Slowly, she stood. The tears disappeared, replaced by a modicum of
hate, or rage. Either may have been represented by her features.
She stepped forward and snatched the chrome from his fingertips.
The ratchet clicked, and Blake's hands were immobilised behind his
back.
"Satisfied?" she asked.
He nodded, and she stalked back to where she'd been bade sit. She
settled back to the floor, turning away from the scene in front of
her.
Blake pulled on the bonds for a moment. "Undignified, but secure,"
he said. "Now you have nothing to fear from me."
Chapter 80
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"... and she will become a partner ..." Johnson's voice trailed off
as confusion entered his eyes. Blake nodded his head towards
Johnson's left, and Johnson glanced over to see the gunman sitting
easily in the chair, gun aimed at his head. He froze, but even so,
he started at the sight of Monique sitting on the floor near the
entrance.
"You can't possibly get away with this," Johnson said slowly.
"Oh, I can, and I will, Mr. Johnson," the gunman murmured.
"What do you want?"
"What if I wanted all the money in the safe?" the gunman said. Blake
raised his eyebrows at this, but didn't say anything.
"I'd tell you to go to hell."
"What do you care? It isn't your money, is it?"
Johnson squinted his eyes, but they never left sight of the gun.
"I don't know the combination to the safe," Johnson said.
Blake spoke up at this point. "Johnson, don't be a damn fool. The
man is pointing a gun at you. You'd risk all our lives for some bits
of paper that are insured?"
Johnson turned towards the old man, cheeks puffing like a fish.
"I don't know the combination," he repeated.
"Do you see Miss Pelletier over there?"
Johnson nodded.
"If our friend here raped her repeatedly, or shot her in the head a
few times, would you perhaps remember it?"
Johnson shook his head, eyes pleading.
"Don't be a damn fool, Johnson. This guy is serious. I've seen his
type before. He doesn't want to hurt any of us, at least not in any
serious way, but he will if it gets him what he wants. If he wants
the damn combination, give it to him."
Johnson returned to look at the gunman. "You don't give a shit about
the combination, do you?"
The gunman smiled, and shrugged. "Of course, not."
"What do you want from me, then?"
"I want you to sit still while Monique handcuffs you."
"Like hell I will."
Johnson began to shake, and Monique moaned from where she was
sitting.
Blake spoke again. "I let him handcuff me. It isn't worth a bullet."
"So shoot me."
The gunman laughed a little, and brought the barrel up to centre on
Johnson's forehead. Then he lowered it to aim at his shoulder.
Johnson shook, but sat still.
"Don't be a damn fool. He's not going to hurt you or I," Blake said.
"I'm worried about Miss Pelletier, to be honest, but not you or me.
He'll keep shooting her, and you'll get to listen to her howls of
pain until you do what he wants. I've met people like him before.
Let him handcuff you, dammit, Johnson. Why do you always have to be
so goddamn stubborn."
Johnson sighed and sat back in the chair. He glanced at the woman
cowering by the door. The gunman leaned over and produced another
pair of handcuffs from the bag at his feet. He held them to the
side.
"Monique," he called again. The girl didn't hesitate this time, but
rose and grabbed at the chrome, walking over towards Johnson's
chair. She shot the gunman with another glance of severe distaste.
Interestingly, she gave Johnson the same look.
Slowly, Johnson placed his hands behind the chair back, and waited
while Monique knelt and cuffed him. When she was done, she ran back
to the door and curled back up on the floor, eyes averted from the
scene in front of her.
"So, if you don't want the money, what do you want?" Johnson asked.
The gunman smiled, and waved towards Blake.
"Blake? The old man?" A feral look entered Johnson's face, almost
like he would relish the old man's demise.
The gunman laughed. "Not him, he'll merely answer your question."
Blake looked confused for a moment, but then understanding lit his
features. He didn't look happy with the result.
"Miss Pelletier," Blake said. At the words, Monique moaned again,
but then fell silent.
<---===***===--->
"I will not take my clothes off. Never," Monique said looking up
from the floor. "Never."
"I can cut them from you," the gunman said quietly.
"Then that's what you'll have to do. I won't take them off. Not for
you."
The gunman shrugged and turned towards Blake. Blake shrugged.
"I'm not going to help you. Not with this one," the older man said
slowly. "I can't tell her to strip for you."
The gunman shrugged again and turned, the gun aiming at the seated
girl by the door. "Elbow? Knee? Ribs?" he said.
"This one is worth it," Blake said quietly from behind him. "This
isn't a matter of handcuffing an old man to a chair to prevent
trouble. If she removed her clothing, then she's opened up to all
sorts of nasty things, isn't she?"
The gunman turned, the gun wavering then falling to his side.
"Nasty things?"
"Rape. We deal with it all the time," Blake said quietly.
The gunman laughed and leaned on the desk. Real puzzlement cross his
face. "Why would I rape her?"
"You have to ask that? Why else would you want her to take off her
clothing?"
"That's simple, and if you think about it, you'll know why."
Blake seemed genuinely puzzled, but then he relaxed.
"You aren't going to rape her?" he said.
"I'm not going to rape her. Rape is barbaric."
"Some would say what you are doing here constitutes barbarism in its
worst form."
"You cannot understand the situation," the gunman said. "But it
isn't barbarism. Rape is barbarism. Even here."
"You aren't going to rape her?"
"Of course not."
"But you want her naked."
"I do."
"Will you give me your word?"
"What does my word mean here?"
Blake looked at him again with those calm grey eyes. "Your word,
young man, is all you have. I've known people like you before." He
seemed certain of his words.
He nodded slowly. "Mr. Blake, I give you my word. I will not rape
Monique."
He turned back towards the cowering girl.
"Miss Pelletier?" Blake called. "I know it isn't what you'd like to
do, but I do believe that he will not rape you if you removed your
clothing as he asks. I know that you haven't experienced the pain of
a gunshot wound, nor would I wish it upon you. But if I were in your
position, I would remove my clothing, and trust that it would be the
lesser of two great harms."
The girl shook her head wearily.
"Stand up," the gunman barked. His voice rapidly lost patience. At
the command, the girl did rise, stumbling to her feet. Her medium
heels wobbled for a moment on the carpet.
"Strip," he said. Almost automatically, her fingers began to finger
the buttons of her designer jacket.
"No," she said. Her fingers dropped to her side.
The gunman sighed, and raised the gun. She flinched, and then fell
to the floor as the gun discharged. The sound rang about the small
room, and chunks of dropped ceiling rained over her prone form.
"Monique!" Johnson cried, swearing as he pulled at the cuffs that
held him. "I swear, I'll kill you," he screamed at the gunman.
Blake's quiet voice cut through the ringing in everyone's ears.
"Miss Pelletier. If I were you, I wouldn't wait for the next one to
punch a sizable hole in your body, rather than the innocent
ceiling."
Crying, the woman pushed herself to her feet, brushing off the
chunks of plaster and insulation from her clothing.
"Please," she whispered. No blossoms of red sprouted from her body,
he'd aimed well above her head.
He lowered the gun to aim at her stomach.
"Miss Pelletier, I have no wish to see your blood," Blake said. "I
have no wish to see your nudity either, but please, if not for you,
for us, do as he asks."
"He'll rape me."
"Not all men are slavering imbeciles when a naked woman emerges from
her cocoon, Miss Pelletier. If Johnson were holding the gun, I would
counsel you otherwise, but this young man will not rape you. I hope
I'm not wrong, but I really believe that, or wouldn't counsel you to
obey him."
"He'll rape me."
"He'll shoot you if you continue this path. Agony will not begin to
describe what you will feel. Please, Miss Pelletier."
"Please don't make me do this," Monique said to the man holding the
gun.
"Naked. Everything," he said simply. "Even your jewellery."
Her body shaking, it took a moment for her to decide. But in the
end, her fingers rose to her jacket and began to remove the buttons
holding it together.
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