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Chapter 81
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Neither the gunman nor Blake watched as she removed her clothing
slowly, carefully folding each item and placing it on the floor at
her feet. She was more aware of Johnson voraciously watching as her
skin became more and more accessible.
She halted as her bra and her panties remained as her last vestige
of modesty.
"Please, isn't this enough?" she pleaded. She hated herself for
pleading, but she couldn't stand stripping these last bits of cloth
with Johnson staring at her.
The man with the gun turned slowly from talking to Blake to regard
her for a moment.
"Everything," he reiterated. "I'm sorry."
"But, Mr. Johnson. Not in front of him."
The gunman shrugged and turned towards the man seating in the chair
in front of the desk.
"You'll see her soon enough. You don't have to watch this."
The man averted his eyes towards the windows, with a quick look of
fear in them. The gunman turned back towards the frightened
half-naked girl.
"Put the clothing on the desk when you're done," he said
dismissively. Monique glanced at Johnson who was staring out the
window.
"Please, why," she asked. "Why do I have to be naked?"
He didn't turn from regarding the old man. "Control," he said. A
flicker of understanding passed over Blake's face as if the last
piece of the puzzle had fallen neatly into place without the need to
smash it with a hammer.
She glanced at Johnson again, and shivered. The man would see her,
but somehow the act of removing her clothes was worse than the
eventual outcome. She'd been naked for men before, of course. But
she honestly couldn't remember if she'd ever stripped for one before
-- not this blatantly anyway.
With a sigh, she turned her back to the three men, and reached up
behind herself. Once the decision was made, her bra and her panties
fell from her body in quick succession. She gathered up her
clothing, debated throwing them at the gunman to distract him, but
then decided against it. She stepped forward. The carpet felt odd
beneath her suddenly bare feet.
She placed the small, neat pile on the corner of the desk, aware
that Johnson was watching her. She tried to turn herself from his
angle of vision, but knew that no matter what she did, he'd be able
to see her skin.
She bent as modestly as she could and picked up her shoes, placing
them on top of the pile. Then she ran towards the door, placing her
bare back against it, her arms shielding her more private areas.
Regarding him with hatred, she spoke quietly interrupting what
sounded suspiciously like a political discussion between the gunman
and Blake.
"Please, I've stripped. Please, can I dress now?"
He turned towards her, annoyance on his face. Even the sight of her
standing naked by the doorway didn't erase the irritation from his
face. She'd actually disturbed him from conversation. Her. Naked and
cold. Soorrrry.
"No," he said simply.
"Then what do you expect me to do?" she said.
"Crawl."
"Crawl?"
"Yes, twice around the office should give me enough time."
"See here, young man. That is completely undignified."
The gunman turned towards the old man, a smile on his lips.
"Not nearly as undignified as she will be."
"You gave your word."
"And I will not rape her any more than I rape any of the others."
He turned again, this time the gun aimed at her chest where her arms
tried to protect the chastity of her bare breasts.
"I thought I asked you to crawl."
"I can't." Her eyes searched out Blake, hoping for help. But the old
man was tied to his chair -- she'd had to restrain him there a long
time ago. At least, it seemed like a long time ago.
Instead of helping her, the old man sighed. "Miss Pelletier, you do
know how to crawl, don't you?"
She shook her head in denial.
"It's better than being shot."
"I'd rather be shot."
"No. You wouldn't. But it's not your skin you should be worried
about. You are far too precious to him to shoot."
The gunman sighed, and stood. Slowly, he walked around the desk
until he stood beside the old man's chair. He rested the gun barrel
against Blake's temple.
"Miss Pelletier?" Blake said carefully. He didn't seem afraid, but
his body shook a little. "I'm old. I'll willingly die for this, but
he will make you crawl. He'll find something else, after I'm slumped
here lifeless in front of you. It's up to you. I'll willingly go,
if that's what you want. But if you let him shoot me, I wish you the
best of luck, and well being, my dear. You are talented, and I do
believe in you."
The words brought more tears to Monique's eyes, and she wavered. The
image of blood and the small hole appearing at Mr. Blake's temple,
entered her mind. His lifeless body accused her. He meant what he
was saying, she knew him well enough to know that. He would die
gladly for her, but he was also correct -- this monster holding the
weapon on her would make her crawl. Somehow. Pain. Torture. Or
simply killing everyone that she cared about. Worse, the next person
wouldn't die, would suffer for her stubbornness. Images of
inquisition chambers haunted her. She wasn't even sure she could
accept Johnson screaming as his knees were shot. Horrible images
flit behind her closed eyelids.
"I'm sorry," she said. She saw his finger tense, but then relax as
the meaning of her words became apparent. She lowered herself to
her knees, and then to her palms. The carpet pressed into her bare
skin. He watched her as she began to crawl.
"I hate you. So much," she whispered.
<---===***===--->
Both the gunman and Blake shifted their attention to whatever
discussion she'd interrupted. She swore that she wouldn't interrupt
the man again, if she was ever given the chance. Unfortunately,
Johnson watched her as she began to crawl across the carpet,
following the wall. She refused to look at the man, but she felt his
eyes on her skin like a mouse feels the attention of a wolf.
Christ, the guy with the gun wasn't even watching her. She was
crawling, naked, and he was talking to her boss.
She felt like screaming into the quiet room, capturing his
attention. But that was just her ego. Intellectually, she knew it
wasn't smart to gather any more attention than necessary from the
man. Especially while she was in this position. Naked and
humiliated.
But she had saved Blake, somehow. The gunman would have shot the old
man, and she genuinely liked Blake. If crawling a little prevented
bloodshed, then she would crawl.
Her hand moved, then her leg. It was awkward, and slow. The voices
droned on as she crawled under the windows and past the filing
cabinets, closer to Johnson and then further.
It felt like it would never end.
<---===***===--->
She stood, her body flushed, and her heart beat heavily beneath
her ribs. Crawling wasn't as easy an exercise as it looked. She
shielding her body again as best she could with her arms, and
remained silent.
So sure was she that he hadn't been paying attention to her, that
she'd taken a step towards him before she realised that she meant to
strike him.
"That would be unwise, Monique," the gunman said without turning
from his conversation with Blake.
He had eyes in the back of his head. Christ. Monique gasped, and
stepped back until her back touched the cool grain of the door
again. Johnson watched the entire mini-drama with cool interest. She
sighed, and waited.
<---===***===--->
He touched her hair and she stepped to the right to escape his
fingers, flinching. The gunman didn't seem upset at her movement,
but she had expected the pain of a bullet, whatever it felt like, to
strike her in the ribs where the gun was currently aiming. The pain
never came.
"Over there," he ordered.
She swallowed heavily but walked naked to where he'd indicated. It
was uncomfortably close to Johnson's chair.
"Hands down," he said.
"Please no." She was standing immediately in front of Johnson, his
hungry eyes scanned her pale skin to the extent they were able.
Monique glanced over her shoulder at Blake. The old man gave her a
sympathetic glance, but she understood that he couldn't help her.
With a sigh, she lowered her hands. Johnson drank in the sight of
her bare breasts and body.
"Kneel," he said. She felt his touch on her shoulder.
"Why?"
"Kneel," he repeated. The pressure fell more insistently at her
upper arm. She lowered herself to her knees.
He hopped up to sit next to her clothing on top of the desk,
brushing aside Blake's nameplate. She turned away from Johnson's
thighs to regard him over her shoulder.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked.
"Because I can. I could force you to pleasure Johnson over there
with your mouth. Only your mouth. For hours."
"See here, young man, you promised not to rape her," Blake said
quietly.
The gunman laughed. "Technically, it would be Johnson raping her."
"A technicality."
"Aren't lawyers all interested in technicalities?"
Blake shook his head, disappointment clearly on his face. Not
disappointment that she would be raped, but that he perceived that
the Timeman would break his word.
The gunman shot Blake a warning glance that Monique didn't
understand, and turned back towards the kneeling, naked lawyer.
"How would you like to have sex with Johnson?"
Monique looked up into the older lawyer's face. It was clear that he
wouldn't mind it. Not one bit.
"I wouldn't," she said dully. "Please, why are you doing this to
me?"
"I could force you to," he continued, ignoring her question.
The image of Blake lifeless in the chair returned to her mind. To
prevent that? Would she have sex with Johnson? How far was she
willing to go?
"Yes, you probably could. Haven't I done enough for you? I crawled
for you, for Christsakes, and you didn't even notice."
"I noticed, and I will next time, too."
Monique shuddered at the implication of that.
"I won't force you, though. Do you know why?"
"Because it's not right? Because I don't want to? Simple human
rights?"
"You think too much like a lawyer, my dear. It is because Johnson is
a slime. More so than I. He's enjoying your ... situation ... as
much as I, but second hand. There is no guilt for him. He's tied
into a chair. And if I make you have sex with him? Why ... it's not
his fault, is it? He's enjoying you, but with no risk."
Monique stayed silent. His words were no surprise to her.
"No," the gunman continued. "Johnson doesn't deserve you."
Johnson began to say something above where Monique knelt between his
legs, but then decided to keep quiet.
The gunman touched her bare shoulder, and Monique somehow understood
the intent. She climbed to her bare feet, sullenly turning from
Johnson and watching the gunman. The gunman held the cold barrel of
the gun against her ribs. She shook, but didn't flinch. Not this
time.
He stepped from her, and stepped towards Johnson. Johnson looked up
with real fear in his eyes.
Monique didn't turn her eyes away quickly enough. The gunman brought
the handle of the gun down in a quick arc, striking Johnson across
the jaw with it. A sickening crack, followed by a high pitched
squeal, almost like that of a woman in pain, issued forth from
Johnson's lips. Blood flowed from his mouth as he spat. Teeth dotted
the red fluid that emerged. Sickened, Monique turned away.
"You fucking bastard," she whispered. She had no love of Johnson,
but the blood. So much of it. And that wailing.
Suddenly, he was at her side, fingers cruelly twisted into her
cheeks. He turned her head until Johnson's weeping image filled her
vision. She relaxed her neck muscles from fighting his fingers, and
he released her. She didn't turn away from the bleeding mess.
"He didn't deserve that."
To her surprise, he agreed with her. Johnson fell to moaning in the
chair. More blood flowed down his chin.
"No, he didn't," the gunman said.
"Boo brofe my gaw," Johnson moaned.
"If I wanted you to have sex with Blake, would you?"
"If you never hit anyone else like that, yes," she said. And she
meant it. She wouldn't like it, not even with Blake, but she would.
He sat down on the desk again. She remained standing before him.
"What do you want?" she asked simply.
"You," he answered.
Chapter 82
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The leather of the chair felt cool against her bare skin. It molded
to her body, but she could feel dampness, her own light perspiration
clinging to the slick surface of the chair.
"He controls time, somehow," Blake said to her in that fatherly
voice. He seemed concerned about Johnson's moaning, but not as much
as she. The gunman stood to his right. "He told me he was going to
do it."
"You let him break Johnson's jaw?"
Blake looked mournful. "Miss Pelletier, dear, there isn't much I can
do to prevent it. I asked him to use me instead. He said that it
would prevent me from talking to you, and presumably him." Blake
paused for a moment. "But, Johnson's pain -- it might help you."
"Help me? Practically killing a man? How?"
"Someday, you might understand. And you didn't even like him."
"I promise you, I won't understand."
"He asked you if you'd have sex with me."
"I would. God, I would," Monique said quietly. She honestly wasn't
sure if she wanted to, of if she would merely do it to prevent the
gunman from sending another gun handle into Johnson, or worse, Blake
himself.
"Would you really? You are a beautiful young lady, and I -- I'm an
old man. Pleasures of the flesh don't hold the same sway with me
that they used to, when I was Johnson's age even. But nevertheless,
I would have been satisfied if he had made you love me."
Monique let a quick smile grace her lips, but a moan from Johnson
beside her quickly erased it.
"You'll be tested, I fear, and I cannot help you further. The path
you travel with this man won't be easy."
"What the hell are you talking about?" In her former life, Monique
wouldn't have dared speak to the old man like that, but it already
seemed different to her. She wouldn't have dreamed of sitting in
his office naked, either.
"Keep your integrity, no matter what this man makes you do. He
cannot take that from you. And remember the people outside of
yourself, no matter how much you hurt. That is why you are willing
to have sex with an old man, and this man, he will test you. I know
you. I've always known you since you began here. Just remember. For
me."
"Stand up," the gunman ordered her. She did, making sure her eyes
stayed away from Johnson and his bleeding broken mouth. She watched
Blake instead. The old man kept his eyes on her face, not dropping
to ogle her.
The gunman stepped towards her, grasping her cheeks again. The
fingers dug in. She resisted a moment, then spoke between clenched
teeth.
"All right. All right. I'll look at him." She did. Johnson wasn't
nearly as interested in her nudity as he had been. He moaned, head
hanging limply towards his chest. His shirt bore a large red stain,
as if he'd been shot in the heart.
"You didn't need to do that to him," Monique said.
"Actually, I did. Otherwise you might not believe, or understand."
"I don't understand anything," Monique said quietly.
"Watch."
She felt a tingling in her skin that was akin to the radiance of a
bonfire from afar. Then Johnson moved slightly, bending forward to
hunch back over the phone. The blood disappeared from his shirt, and
the angle of his jaw returned back to normal. His moans silenced.
The handcuffs that had held him immobile clattered to the floor.
"Christ," Blake whispered.
Without waiting, Monique stepped forward, oblivious to her nudity.
She cringed as her finger traced along the previously broken
jawline, the cold dead feeling flesh sending jitters down her spine.
"How?"
"Time," Blake said quietly. "I see."
She didn't see, but she did understand that Johnson wasn't hurting
anymore. For that, she was thankful.
"He's returned, whole, as if this had never happened to him," Blake
said.
The gunman nodded assent as Monique straightened. Blake nodded
thoughtfully.
"May I?" Blake asked. The gunman nodded, and Monique remained more
confused than ever.
"Monique?" Blake called her name. It was the only time she could
remember that he'd ever used her given name. She glanced at the
gunman, who shrugged. Slowly, and without threat, she slipped past
the gun, and made her way around the desk to stand at Blake's side.
"It'll all turn out fine. Just try to calm that stubborn streak in
you, and help when you can."
Monique didn't understand, but she bent and spontaneously kissed
Blake on the cheek. His cheek was leathery and wrinkled, but she
didn't mind. He glowed.
"I'll be fine," she whispered. "Somehow."
"I know you will," he answered.
<---===***===--->
She stood by the door, staring wistfully at her former clothing
lying folded neatly on Blake's desk. The gunman stood partially
obscuring her view of her covering. He was talking to the old man.
"... other female associates?"
Blake shook his head carefully. "You know I can't tell you that,
young man. I know too well what you might do."
"I'll find them anyway," the gunman said.
"I know, but I will not have to live with the guilt of exposing
them. They are -- like my family."
The gunman sighed, turning. He walked to Monique and grasped her
upper arm. She cried out as his fingers dug in. She stumbled across
the room, only to be pushed to her knees beside Johnson's chair.
"Would you like to reconsider?"
"Or what? You'll wake Johnson? Make her give the man a blow job?"
Monique was surprised that the old man knew the term, but in
retrospect, she was more surprised that he had used it in front of
her.
"And I might leave the two of you awake, one with a broken jaw."
Blake sighed, and swivelled in his chair. "I suppose it truly
doesn't matter. Let her up."
The pressure on her shoulder eased, and Monique carefully climbed
back to her bare feet. The old man smiled at her, a smile of hope.
"Amber and Heather. Two new law students. They'll do, I suppose. But
even though I know it will be temporary for them, I would ask that
you don't hurt them. Please."
The gunman nodded. His fingers traced down Monique's upper arm, and
she shivered at the touch.
"And her as well. Miss Pelletier is a special, very special lady."
"I can tell," the gunman said. "I'll take care of her."
"I would hope that is your word, as well."
The gunman nodded. Something passed between the men.
Monique walked with the gunman to the doorway, conscious of the
barrel of the gun pressing lightly into her bare ribs. The old man
pursed his lips, about to say something to her, but then decided not
to. Monique knew what it was.
"I'll do my best," she whispered. The old man nodded and smiled. And
then shifted slightly in his chair, suddenly frozen and listening to
the phone.
"He'll be fine, won't he?" she asked as the gunman opened the oaken
doors.
"He won't even remember this all happened."
Monique turned again, closing her eyes. The image of her crawling
around the office, naked like an animal shifted into her mind's eye.
She shuddered. Somehow she knew that such indignities were minor.
She had to keep her head. Somehow.
She opened her eyes again. Her clothing beckoned to her.
"Please. Can I at least dress?"
"You know the answer to that, Monique," the gunman said quietly.
"I suppose. But that jacket and skirt were so expensive."
"Doesn't matter."
She supposed that it didn't. When one could freeze people at will,
and wave a gun around with impunity? What did the cost of her
clothing really matter?
"Please, then, just my underwear? Something to cover up?"
"I don't want you covered."
She didn't understand, but she did. Resigned, she crossed the
threshold, for the first time stepping nude out into the larger
world. She shivered, even though she suspected that only the person
that had made her strip could see her.
The door clicked shut, her clothing gone forever.
A single tear traced down her cheek, but she held her head up, and
walked with him towards the lobby, her bare feet whispering across
the plush office carpet.
Chapter 83
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The sudden image of a television, blank but humming, but without
even static permeated his mind. The taste of milk filled his mouth
for a moment, and then disappeared. Disturbed, he cocked his head
to the side, delving through the fabric of the universe. He expected
to see the image of a girl, stretched out on a park bench, but that
didn't happen. Only a faint tingle deep in his groin, deeper than
his penis, an unfamiliar sensation that instinctively, he knew to be
female. And sexual.
But as quickly as it came, it vanished. He shook his head, and
pushed open the oaken doors to the lobby. He half expected them to
jump him, swinging primitive weapons at his head. Instead, Kate
looked up from where she'd sprawled out on the floor, her fingers
tented in a magazine. Leigh had curled up, her bare legs tucked
under her, in one of the comfortable looking reception chairs. Leigh
didn't look up from the smaller magazine she held in her lap.
"How'd it go?" Kate asked. At Kate's words, Leigh looked up in
surprise, almost as if she'd been lost in whatever it was she was
reading.
"How'd what go?"
"Your expedition? Did you solve your legal problems?"
He settled into a chair across from Leigh.
"It was more complicated than that."
Leigh took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Her face was a mask of
indecision. She began to climb out of the chair, obviously aimed to
lower herself to the floor. He motioned for the girl to stop, and
almost gratefully, she tucked her legs back up under her body. She
held her breath for a moment, then appeared to make up her mind, and
spoke solemnly.
"Was she good?"
"Who?"
"Whatever girl you found to have sex with."
He laughed. "I didn't rape anyone."
"She agreed to have sex with you?"
"No. If you must know, I'm still virginal."
"Bullshit."
He shrugged. "I didn't have sex any more than you two did. Okay?"
"That wasn't what I was worried about."
"What are you reading?"
Leigh held up her magazine. It was an old issue of Reader's Digest.
The girl made a face.
"It's not all that deep."
"You don't like the stories about being lost in the woods, eating
caribou?"
The girl shrugged. "Better than being tied up and whipped, I
suppose." She put the magazine back on the coffee table.
"Next time we're near a book store, remind me if you aren't being
punished, and maybe we can find something more ... stimulating."
He turned to Kate. Kate smiled a little more genuinely. She held up
her magazine, her finger marking her place.
"Seventeen??" he said.
"It is my age," Kate said. "But I wasn't really impressed with the
reading selection here, either. Don't really care if the Backstreet
Boys are fighting depression. I'm lying here collared and naked,
after all."
He grinned and rose. Kate sighed and closed the magazine, returning
it to the coffee table to lie beside Leigh's Reader's Digest.
Leigh pushed herself out of the chair, too.
"It was nice while it lasted," she murmured. Her bare body unfolded,
and she stood.
Kate fingered her collar, a wistful look in her eyes.
"Can we ditch these things? They're itchy and these leashes get in
the way."
"Soon," he said. Instead of ditching the symbols of the girls
captivity, he gathered up the leads in one hand. He didn't need to
tug. The girls fell into step easily behind him, the chains between
their wrists jingling.
He ushered them through the oaken doors and into the maze of
corridors.
<---===***===--->
Kate pulled free with a gasp, the leash trailing through his fingers
to tangle in her bare legs as she rushed forward. Leigh sighed, and
did the same. He didn't chastise them.
Monique sat with one hand raised above her head, her bare legs
curled under her. Her left hand was held by a pair of handcuffs to
the doorknob of an office. Her free hand covered her face, her
shoulders rising and falling in quiet sobs.
The nameplates on the door read 'A Fisher' and 'H Weeks'.
Kate fell to her knees in front of Monique, gently tilting the
woman's face upwards. When Monique saw Kate, naked and collared, she
screamed. Leigh walked up the the girls more sedately, concern on
her face.
"Shhhh," Kate said, glancing back at the Timeman with a look of
distaste. "It's all right," she murmured.
"Your. Your. Your ..."
"Naked? Collared? I know," Kate said gently. She shifted and
gathered the naked woman into her arms.
"He took you, too," Monique said. Her tears were drying quickly.
"I'm Kate, and the other naked girl up there is Leigh. We. We
attend the same high school."
"Christ. High school?"
Kate nodded slowly.
"My God," Monique said. Then she regained some of her composure.
"I'm Monique."
<---===***===--->
He fumbled at the lock holding the collar to Leigh's throat.
Eventually, it gave up the fight, and released with a sharp click.
Leigh sighed as her throat emerged from the leather. A slight red
mark adorned her neck. She rubbed at the skin with her bound hands,
scratching lightly with her fingernails.
"Ahhhh," she sighed.
He turned to Monique who still lay in Kate's arms, the cuffed wrists
encircling her throat. She'd tried to rise a few times, but Kate
insisted on mothering the slightly older woman.
He glanced at their faces. If he didn't know better, he would have
sworn they were related. True, Monique sported brunette hair, kinked
where it had formerly been drawn into a bun but now was loose about
her shoulders, while Kate's hair shone clean and soft with a fire
that rivalled the sun. But the facial features were similar,
especially the eyes. They both had deep, bright, expressive eyes.
He bent, urging Kate's bare arms from Monique. Monique sat up.
"She's so new. You don't have to do that," Kate said.
He shrugged, and Monique seemed to hesitate, but eventually held her
hair up and out of the way with her free right hand. In a moment, he
locked the leather about her throat, and the leash dangled.
"I'll wear it, if you want. I didn't mean to complain," Leigh said
quietly from behind.
He gently shook his head, wondering at her selflessness. In her
position, he wasn't sure he'd be offering the same, but Leigh seemed
sincere. She'd rather wear the symbol, than inflict it on another.
Even if her neck was perpetually itchy from it.
He reached up, releasing Monique's wrist from the doorknob. He half
expected her to rebel, and strike out at him when free, or perhaps
run, but the girl didn't. She merely rubbed at her wrist, and
watched him warily.
He urged Monique up, and she stood.
"Time to see Amber and Heather," he said. Kate rose to her bare feet
at the words and moved away from the door. He addressed Leigh and
Kate. "You two can stay out here."
He motioned the girls to the far side of the corridor. Without
protest, Leigh and Kate stood against the far wall. At his nod, they
slipped downwards, carefully keeping their legs together, and sat
quietly.
"I don't want to go in there," Monique said quietly.
"Would you prefer to crawl for Johnson some more? Have sex with
him?"
The girl swallowed heavily, and shook her head. Tears lined her
eyelids, but didn't shed.
"Please," she whispered.
He turned her, and opened the door to the office.
A blond girl sat at a computer, her hand on the mouse. Another
girl, brunette, stood against the far wall, waiting for something.
They were both college aged, and attractive girls. The Timeman
smiled, and led Monique into the room. She hesitated, but then
allowed herself to be led. The door clicked shut, isolating them
from Kate and Leigh.
Chapter 84
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Amber and Heather both screamed as they reanimated. Monique cringed,
and tried to step behind the gunman, knowing it was probably more
the sight of her nudity that set off the other two girls than their
sudden appearance.
"Relax, ladies," the gunman said quietly.
It was as though the sound of his voice was hypnotic; both Amber and
Heather clamped their lips together and fell silent.
"Which of you is Amber?"
The blonde girl at the computer raised her hand.
"That would make you Heather ..." he mused. He stepped towards
Amber, leaving Monique exposed. He leaned on Amber's desk.
"Girls," he said. The gun remained visible in his hands. "Let me
introduce Monique, over there. She's the naked one in the collar."
Amber whimpered a little, unmoving.
"What ... what do you want?" Amber asked, her voice wavering.
"Actually," he said, "I'm glad you asked. Monique here, is being
tested. She's going to have sex with you both."
"Please, no," Monique moaned from near the door. She backed up, her
eyes following the gunman, until her bare back touched the wood of
the door.
Instead of acknowledging her, the gunman stood and rounded the desk.
Without hesitation, he held the gun to Amber's temple.
"Oh, God. Oh, God," Amber murmured, her body rigid beneath his
grasp. His left arm snaked around and under her chin to grip her
neck.
"Heather?"
The brunette had shifted along the wall to stand bunched into a
corner, as far from the gunman as possible. The girl made a
strangled sound.
Monique closed her eyes, and whispered.
"Please, they're scared," she said, "they don't know what's going
on."
"They don't need to," he said simply. "They just need to be
available, and pretty." He turned back towards Heather with a slight
smile playing across his lips. "Strip," he ordered her simply.
Heather slowly shook her head as if she were in shock.
He released Amber's throat and picked up a metal straightedge from
the girl's desk. Amber's eyes followed its path. He stroked Amber's
cheek with it, and then swung it against her face. The pain
registered almost immediately, and her scream fell from her throat
without thought or intent. A red welt appeared where he'd hit the
girl.
"Please," Monique said when the screams had died. "Heather, just
strip. He'll make us do it, somehow."
Heather, her eyes wide as a cat's, slowly shook her head.
Another scream penetrated the room as he struck Amber's other cheek.
She tried to twist her head, but his hand twined into her hair,
holding her.
"Heather!" Monique cried. She stepped forward towards the cowering
brunette. "Please! She's your friend. He'll kill her."
Another scream pierced the air.
"Oh, God. Oh God," Heather mumbled. Monique reached forward and
began to unbutton the girl's blouse. At the touch of her fingers,
Heather seemed to flow back into reality, and began to help, her
fingers taking over for Monique's.
"Stop, stop," Heather said as another cry of pain echoed through the
small office. "I'm doing what you asked. Please, no more."
Amber sat weeping her hands rubbing at her cheeks, tears running
down her face. Monique pulled at Heather's skirt, and quickly, the
girl's clothing fell in heaps on the carpet. They didn't bother with
jewellery, but in moments, the girl was nearly as naked as Monique.
He watched the nude girls, satisfied. His left arm had snuck back
around and under Amber's chin. She tried to pry it with her fingers,
but stopped when he squeezed her windpipe. After that, she sat still
and simply watched as Heather, weeping, swept the desk at the back
of the office clear of clutter. The clatter as it struck the floor
caused a wince from Amber.
Crying, Heather climbed up on the desk, and lay inert, her hands at
her side, legs together.
"Heather?"
The brunette girl turned towards him. Tears streamed down her
cheeks, and her face registered complete confusion.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because Monique needs to learn this."
"Why?"
"Because she does."
"I'm not going to fight you," Monique said. She leaned on the edge
of the desk over the naked body of Heather.
Without a word, he released Amber's throat, and picked back up the
straightedge. He pulled the blonde to her feet, and placed her
against the wall, the gun pressing into her chest. He struck her
again with the ruler, and the girl screamed predictably.
With a moan, Monique fell to her knees, pushing apart Heather's
thighs. She hesitated until another scream from Amber convinced her
that fighting this was futile.
She closed her eyes, and lowered her head, the unfamiliar taste of
another woman sweet and musky. Heather cried out at the sensations
of Monique's lips and tongue, her thighs squeezing at Monique's
head.
<---===***===--->
The sharp pain of her hair being pulled brought her head upwards
from licking Heather. The girl wasn't moving beneath her, for which
Monique was somehow grateful. If Heather had enjoyed her attentions,
it would have been worse, somehow.
"You don't need to pull my hair. I'll stop. Gladly."
The hand didn't ease its pressure, until Monique was on her bare
feet again. A little more, and a cry, and Monique was forced to her
toes, and then without warning he dropped her. Monique stumbled,
finally catching her balance. Tears of pain and confusion slipped
down her cheeks.
His eyes held a hardness that she hadn't seen before. There was a
sparkle of intelligence, and hunger, almost as if the hardness was
an act, but it was still hardness. Monique was suddenly afraid --
for herself, for Heather and for Amber. Despite Blake's assurances
that this man was a man of honour, she couldn't figure out what man
of honour would force women to do these things.
She gasped as he gripped her leash harshly, and led her stumbling
and crying to where Amber stood against the wall. The girl was
striped with red welts from the straightedge. It lay, almost
innocently, half off the side of her desk beside her computer mouse.
Amber's eyes looked glazed, and nearly unresponsive. Monique hoped
that the girl wasn't in a catatonic state, but it might have been
better if she were. She didn't remember at which point he'd forced
the girl to strip, Monique's tongue being buried in Amber's friend,
but Amber stood naked, now, marks across her breasts and belly.
"You're going to kill them," Monique whispered fiercely. But he
didn't look like he cared much. Monique knelt as he pressed hard on
her shoulder.
He pressed her head forward, and Monique sighed as she used her
mouth again, trying to ignore what she was doing. She could feel his
eyes on her nudity as she tried to pleasure the other girl. She knew
the theory, and even if she'd never practised before, the girl above
her began to moan. This upset Monique more than Heather's sexual
unresponsiveness.
With a start, Monique pulled back. She glanced over her shoulder. He
was standing beside where Heather still lay on the desk. Monique
half expected him to be raping the girl, but he was only touching
her breasts. Heather stared at the ceiling.
"Why did you stop?" he asked Monique.
Thinking quickly, the naked woman answered, "My tongue is numb.
It's not like I'm used to this."
He didn't seem to care, but he released Heather, who visibly relaxed
as his fingers left her skin. Without a word, he stepped over to
where Monique knelt.
"Continue, until I say stop," he said. Menace dripped from his
voice.
Monique shivered, but shook her head. "No," she said. "This is
enough. I can't."
He shrugged, and lifted the straightedge again from the desk.
"Please, no more," Amber said in a moan.
Before Monique could stop him, he drove two stripes of pain into
Amber's bare skin. One across her nipples, and the other in front of
Monique's eyes at thigh level. Amber couldn't even scream, her body
writhing. The girl collapsed and Monique backed away, crying.
"I'll do it. I'll do whatever you fucking want," Monique screamed.
Satisfied, he grabbed at Amber's hair, dragging the naked girl back
to her feet. "Please, please, please," she murmured struggling for
breath.
Monique flashed the gunman with another look of hate, and shuffled
forward on her knees. Amber began to moan again, as soon as
Monique's tongue slipped between her lips.
<---===***===--->
To her surprise, Monique felt the naked girl above her climax. It
wasn't earth shattering, but small convulsions of vaginal muscles
squeezed her tongue. Monique closed her eyes, as Amber shuddered
above her.
Monique backed away, worriedly looking over her shoulder. The
gunman idly brushed at Heather's breasts, but the hardness had fled
his visage. He smiled at Monique, and strangely, it made her feel
almost proud, that she'd succeeded in whatever it was he wanted her
to do. He nodded, and Monique leaned back, supporting herself on her
hands.
Amber slipped quietly, moaning, to the floor, her thighs spread
almost obscenely, one leg on either side of Monique.
<---===***===--->
"She climaxed, what's the point in making me lick her more?" Monique
asked from between Amber's thighs. "I will, don't hit anyone
anymore, please, but she climaxed. Isn't that what you wanted?"
Actually, she could see that he didn't care if the girl's enjoyed
Monique's attention or not. It was Monique's lesson, not their's.
She didn't know what the lesson was, exactly, but she suspected that
she'd learned it.
He touched her head again, urging her back down. With a sigh,
Monique lowered her head again, her tongue finding Amber's clitoris
again. Tiredly, she hoped that he wouldn't make her continue this
lesbian encounter much longer. Amber's hands, suddenly animated,
rested in Monique's hair, but didn't push her away.
Amber tasted different after her climax, the sweetness of her
moisture intensified. The girl moaned, and tried to prevent
Monique's tongue from teasing her, her hips rocking backwards, away
from Monique's tongue. Monique whispered another apology -- she knew
how uncomfortable it could be to be touched intimately after a
climax, though never by another woman. She supposed it was the same
whether the touch was a man's penis, or a girl's tongue.
Thankfully, she rose again, when he touched her shoulder.
Her tongue felt tired, as did her entire being.
She'd never been with a woman before today, and now, two in a matter
of fifteen minutes. One who climaxed.
A flush forced itself into her bare features.
She watched as he almost gently raised Amber back to her bare feet.
The red welts of the straightedge remained across her face, her
breasts and her thighs. Amber moaned but didn't resist.
<---===***===--->
Amber and Heather stood against the back wall of the office,
Heather's right hand handcuffed to Amber's left. Neither girl looked
particularly aware of her situation, mostly a glazed look of shell
shock across their faces.
Monique stood by the entrance, wishing that she could open the door,
step past Kate and Leigh, and leave this nightmare.
A damn collar, and a leash??? Crawl in front of Blake and Johnson?
Buck naked? Forced to lick these two girls?
She swallowed heavily. He appeared in front of her, holding up the
straightedge. Monique cowered back.
"Please, I've done what you wanted. You don't have to hit me."
He laughed. The easy playfulness had reentered his eyes. The
hardness, the lack of caring that had scared Monique so badly, had
retreated. She wondered if it was a sexual thing -- that to thwart
this man during his sexual desires caused the hardness. She wasn't
sure that it wasn't simply an act in pursuit of control -- her
control.
She shivered.
He lifted her right hand and pressed the ruler into it. She gripped
it lightly, confused. For a moment, she considered bashing it across
his smiling face, even if he killed her horribly afterward, he'd at
least feel what he'd inflicted on Amber.
Before she could lift her right arm, he swept away in a mock grand
entrance.
"Pick one. I want you to hit one of them."
Monique bit her lip. Integrity. He slowly shook her head.
"I won't. I won't hit either of them. They've suffered enough, and
they've done what you asked."
The girls had pressed themselves against the wall as best they
could, as if wishing that they could pass through it without benefit
of a door. At least they retained enough sense to be afraid of what
the man was saying.
Monique held out the straightedge towards him. "If you want to hit
them, you'll have to do it yourself."
He ignored the proffered metal, and sat up on the desk where Monique
had been forced to lick Heather. Monique's eyes stole to the naked
girl against the wall. Heather looked like she was about to face a
firing squad. Perhaps she was. In a way.
"If you don't hit one, I'll hit both, you realise."
Monique nodded wearily. "I can't control that."
"You can. Only one needs to feel the sting of that thing."
Monique shook her head slowly. "Your rules, not mine. I can't hit
them. I won't."
"I could force you," he said.
Monique inhaled deeply. "You could, perhaps, if you killed enough
people, but I won't hit them now. I won't. I can't."
She dropped the ruler to the floor at her feet. It touched her left
foot, and she stepped back away from it, as though it had given her
an electric shock.
"What would old man Blake have told you to do?"
Monique closed her eyes, swaying on her feet. Blake had been
returned to where ever it was that this man froze people. He wasn't
here anymore to tell her how to conduct herself. It had been easier
with Blake helping her. Even when that meant making a decision to
remove her clothes, or to crawl. What would Blake have suggested?
Slowly, Monique opened her eyes. He was watching her expectantly.
She shook her head again. "He would have told me that this was worth
my integrity. I can't hit them. I know I'm risking punishment, and
I'm sorry. I can't."
He looked at her intently for a moment, then hopped down from the
desk. He approached her, and she refused to lower her eyes from his.
She shook, afraid that he would hit her with his bare hands, slap
her, or punch her, twist her nipples, but he didn't.
He nodded. "Actually, you're right, he would have told you exactly
that."
Monique nodded, surprised that he would acknowledge it.
He picked up the ruler from where she'd dropped it. He traced it
down her skin, starting at her throat, and ending just above her
belly button. She shivered, but refused to flinch.
"Instead of hitting them, hit me. They can barely stand, they're so
shell shocked. You didn't need to do that to them."
"But I did. You needed to understand."
"Understand what? That you are in control? Of me?" Monique paused
for a moment, raising her eyes to his. "I understand that. I did
exactly what you asked, except for hitting them. I can't do that."
He sighed and stepped back from her. Returning to the desk. He
tapped his own thigh through his jeans with the ruler. He didn't
wince, though he'd obviously hit himself harder than he had Amber
earlier. Even with jeans to protect him.
"Do you want me to hit you?" he asked.
Monique felt tears beginning to form. She blinked and they abated
before they fell. She shook her head.
"I don't want to be put into pain, no. But if it will stop you from
hurting Amber and Heather, and you need to hit someone, a naked
girl, yes. I'll let you hit me, instead."
"Open the door, Monique. Let Kate and Leigh in."
Chapter 85
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
First Kate, then Leigh, gasped as they stepped over the threshold.
"Jesus," Kate whispered, turning towards the gunman. "They look
like they've been through a damn war."
"They have," Monique whispered.
Amber and Heather cringed against the wall as the two new nude girls
entered the small office. Office equipment cluttered the floor, and
chaos seemed to rule here.
"Kate? What could I do with the two girls here?"
Kate looked confused for a moment, but then answered a bit dully.
"Anything you want."
He watched the redhead expectantly.
"You could tie them up and whip them. You could break their bones.
You could tape cigarettes to their nipples," Kate said.
Amber and Heather moaned together as the tortures were described.
They both paled, as did Monique.
"You wouldn't," Monique whispered.
He shrugged, but didn't move to inflict the terrible torments
suggested. For some reason, she believed that he'd actually taped
cigarettes to a girl before.
Kate walked over to him, kneeling in front of him. Her bare breasts
touched his jeans.
"Whatever you did in here, is enough," she said. "Whatever else you
want, or need, to do, I'll accept. Okay? Hurt me if you need to hurt
anyone."
"I already offered that," Monique said quietly. Kate glanced over
her shoulder, and nodded. Then she turned back around, placing her
bound hands on his knee. She massaged him with her fingers.
"Let's go back to the hotel, get something to eat, free Linda, and
then go from there. Let these girls go. Monique, too. She doesn't
belong here."
"Do you belong here?" he asked the naked girl.
Kate thought about that for a moment, then shook her head.
"I'd like for you to let us all go, but I know you won't."
"I could hurt them, and then return them."
Amber moaned again. With her right hand, she traced the welt that
slashed across her left nipple. As she touched it, she winced.
He hopped off the cleared desk, and walked over to Amber. He
carried the straightedge, swinging it carefully through the air.
Out of the corner of her eye, Monique saw Leigh step forward. She
carefully picked her way through the clutter on the floor, avoiding
anything that looked sharp, until she stood a metre or so behind
him.
"Please leave them alone," Leigh whispered.
He turned to face the naked girl.
"Why shouldn't I whip her until she passes out?"
"It's not right. You can whip me until I pass out. It still isn't
right, but I can take it. She can't. Look at her."
"You don't even know her."
Leigh shrugged. "She doesn't deserve to be hit anymore. Please."
"I could whip her and then return her."
"Yes, you could. I can't stop you. But why would you do that? What
possible reason. Did she hurt you? Did she disobey you? Why???"
Leigh's naked body shook with the force of her conviction.
Monique couldn't stop herself.
"How does he return them?"
The gunman ignored her, but Kate and Leigh turned towards Monique.
"He manipulates time itself. The people you see frozen, they're
simply not in time phase with us," Leigh said. "If he returns a
girl, she returns unharmed, as if this place never existed.
Eventually, I hope, he'll return us, too."
Monique thought about that for a moment. "What about me?"
Leigh shrugged. "I really don't know, Monique. I really don't know."
She turned back towards the Timeman, her face already falling into
pleading. "But those girls, they can't stay here."
"They don't have a choice," he said.
"I know. I don't either. But I'm begging you. I'll get down on my
knees, if you want, and beg you."
He nodded. Leigh sighed and slowly lowered herself to her knees in
front of him. Her bare feet pushed paper and a box of tacks from her
path.
"Do you want me to kiss your feet, too?"
As far as Monique could tell, the girl was serious. She would, if
that would get her what she wanted.
He smiled, and shook his head slowly. Leigh raised her eyes, her
bound hands clasped in her lap.
"Please?"
Monique gasped as the girls simply disappeared. The handcuffs that
had adorned their wrists hung in the air for a moment, and then
clattered to the floor.
Kate pushed herself from where she was kneeling in front of the
desk, scrambling away as blotters and pens and papers returned to
the desktop in front of her as if a reverse tornado had lifted the
debris and created order from chaos.
Amber sat exactly where she had been when Monique had entered, fully
clothed and intently staring at the computer screen. Heather stood
bored at the back of the office, leaning against the wall. Neither
bore the marks of what they'd experienced in this time frame. It was
as if nothing had happened here. For them.
But the taste of Amber and Heather remained on Monique's lips and
tongue, and the memories of their bodies and screams remained within
her mind.
"Thank-you," Leigh whispered as she climbed awkwardly to her feet.
<---===***===--->
Monique stood as still as she could, her hands held clenched at her
side. Leigh and Kate stood against the far wall, where he'd placed
them earlier, close to Heather, and close to where Amber had stood
handcuffed to Heather.
She watched his eyes, which watched her intently, as if he wanted to
see the pain rush into her eyes.
No scream. She didn't want to scream, but suspected that she would.
This was the price of freedom, for Amber and Heather.
Monique glanced at Amber and Heather, oblivious to what surrounded
them -- the price she was about to pay for their freedom. Bracing
herself, she whispered, "I'm ready."
He didn't hit her full force, but she'd never been hit anywhere near
her breasts before. The straightedge struck the side of her breast,
well away from the nipple, but she felt her breast dance on her
chest before the hot pain entered her mind.
She moaned.
The second blow hit her left breast, in the same place as the last
one had struck her right. Dimly, she was aware of Kate and Leigh
cringing as the sound of metal striking flesh fell into the room.
This time, she couldn't help it. She did scream.
<---===***===--->
Tears dripped from her eyes, but she did as she was bade, falling
easily to her hands and knees. Leigh looked at the Timeman
reproachfully, but accepted the leash into her smaller hand. A blue
pack was pressed into Kate's fingers.
At the reception desk, where'd she'd passed so many times before
without ever realising that someday she might be forced to crawl
naked through it, he roughly took the leash from Leigh. Leigh
stepped back, a worried look on her face.
Monique's breasts hurt, especially where the red stripes peeked
around from the side. Her hands and knees felt raw from the carpet.
"What's his name?" he asked. Monique looked up from her position on
all fours.
"Who?" she asked.
He pointed towards the male receptionist. Monique had never figured
out why they had a male receptionist, most firms preferring a pretty
girl to greet clients. But the guy seemed bright and competent,
perhaps a high school dropout. For some reason, even naked and
crawling for a man with a gun, she was embarrassed that she had no
idea of the guy's name.
"I honestly don't know," she murmured.
"Doesn't matter. How would you like to give him a blow job? Or fuck
him on the reception desk?"
Kate spoke quietly. "Haven't you terrorised her enough?"
He turned towards Kate. Monique was unreasonably grateful.
"Would you like to give the guy a blowjob, instead? Or in addition
to Monique?"
"He's cute. I'd give him one instead," Kate murmured.
"I would, too," Leigh echoed quietly. "Please, she's been through
enough for one day."
The gunman pursed his lips, eventually crouching in front of
Monique, ignoring the offers of the other girls.
"You haven't answered my question, Monique."
Monique sighed. "Would I like to give him a blowjob? No. No more
than Kate or Leigh really would. I don't know him, and it would be
... wrong. Do you assume that all women are here to give strangers
blow jobs? It's wrong."
"Would Blake think so?"
He looked like he already knew the answer to that.
"Please, just let me go," Monique whispered.
He shook his head. "If I wanted you to, would you give our nameless
receptionist a blow job?"
"You know I would. I wouldn't like to, but I would. Because you told
me to. You made me have sex with two girls. You think I'd stop at a
receptionist, just because he's a male? I have no desire to be shot
either. Not over this."
He nodded, apparently satisfied. He gathered up the girl's leash and
tugged. With a sigh, Monique began to crawl again.
At the useless elevator doors, he stopped her.
"You can get up, now."
Monique wearily climbed to her knees. Her body felt like she'd run a
marathon, and she only wanted to sleep.
"What now? I give you a blow job?"
He gently shook his head. He rummaged around in the backpack that
Kate held, finally extracting a pair of handcuffs. He zipped up the
pack again, and Kate turned back around to face the group.
Slowly, Monique shook her head.
"You don't have to tie me up."
He nodded.
"I know; I want you restrained. We have a long climb down, Monique.
Just be glad I don't make you crawl down the stair."
Resigned, she pushed herself to her feet, and held out her wrists,
offering her hands to the cuffs. The handcuffs closed securely
around her, and even when she pulled gently, the bands of metal held
her.
Chapter 86
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"The Life and Times of Sigmund Freud?"
The blonde girl looked up sharply, a combination of the eerie
silence, the sudden male voice, and a feeling of danger infusing her
being. She could feel tingling right down to her toes encased in her
security issued boots.
She was about to ask if she could help the man, but before she
could, her eyes took in the frozen lobby. Her eyes widened as they
scanned over the naked girls clustered by the revolving door -- they
were handcuffed but moving. Everyone else, including the rotund
lady in the business suit that she'd sent to the wrong elevator bank
moments before were frozen and silent. As far as Andrea could tell,
they were dead -- not even breathing.
She looked up. The man wasn't anything notable. Tall, yes, and
solidly built, but he wouldn't stand out in a crowd, neither a
pretty boy, nor a roughneck. The small black circle of a gun barrel
aimed her throat.
Andrea swallowed, and leaned back slowly.
"Actually, it's a comparison of Einstein and Freud's teaching." She
paused, her eyes wandering again to the small group of girls naked
by the door. She had a bad feeling about all of this. "What is going
on here?" she asked.
Instead of answering her, the gunman motioned her up. Andrea
obediently rose to her feet. The green marker she'd dropped earlier
rolled across the marble under the desk. She nearly bent to pick it
up, but instead raised her arms.
He let her.
"Andrea," he said, "do you carry a gun?"
For a moment, she was taken aback by his knowledge of her name, then
she remembered the silly name tag. She stifled the urge to laugh,
but shook her head. She could feel her ponytail drag across her
back.
"You think management would let a security guard wear a gun? In this
busy lobby? What if it discharged accidently? I know how to use a
gun, but I don't have one."
"Shall we make sure?"
Andrea looked at him blankly. She took a deep breath, surprised that
it waved back out in small bursts.
"I'm going to lower my hands, now. I'll lift my shirt and you'll see
that I don't have one. Okay?"
He shook his head, and she left her hands raised above her head
where he could see them.
"Kate?" he called. The redhead stepped forward from the group of
naked girls. She ran, a little awkwardly, with her hands bound in
front of her, until she reached his side.
"Yes," the girl said, almost deferentially.
"Is that your harem?" Andrea asked quietly. "Freud would have a few
things to say about that."
Both Kate and the gunman looked up at the words. Kate surprised, and
the gunman thoughtful.
"Check and make sure she doesn't have a gun. It won't work anyway,
but I don't need surprises."
Kate nodded and walked around the desk. Her bare feet pattered
against the marble of the floor. Andrea stayed still while Kate
carefully stayed out of the line of sight of the Timeman's gun, and
patted the blonde security guard. When she was done, she
straightened.
"No gun," she said simply, and stepped away from Andrea. "But I'm
not a professional, either."
"Are you all with him?" Andrea asked. Her hands remained up and in
sight.
Kate smiled, and moved into Andrea's line of sight from behind her.
She sighed.
"Yes, and no. We all are his prisoners, captives. He controls time,
Andrea."
"Time?"
"Time. All these people?" Kate waved her hands towards the lobby at
large. "They're frozen in time. He can control that. He woke you.
He captured all of us," Kate waved towards Leigh and Monique,
"before he woke you. It's startling, I know. It's best if you do
what he says. He ... can hurt people if you don't."
"Did he hurt you?"
Kate flushed, and nodded her head. "But it's not me I'm worried
about." Then Kate whispered something about cigarettes that Andrea
didn't quite catch.
The gunman motioned Kate aside, and the girl moved away from Andrea,
rounding the desk, and eventually standing against it, her hands
resting on the marble desktop. She leaned down, resting her chin on
her spread hands.
"Andrea? I'd like you to strip," the man with the gun said.
Andrea looked at Kate, though she knew that the gunman was serious.
She hesitated, even when Kate nodded, and turned towards the barrel
of the gun aimed at her heart.
"Strip? Don't you have enough women naked?"
"He likes us this way," Kate murmured.
"I'll bet he does. Freud would have a field day with this guy."
"I just want to ensure that you don't have hidden weapons."
"Oh! A strip search. Well, that makes it okay then," Andrea smiled,
trying to take the edge off the situation. She didn't move to strip,
yet. "Are you going to rape me? I'll strip for you, but I just want
to know what to prepare myself for."
Kate spoke quietly from where she stood. "I haven't had clothes for
a day and a half, and he hasn't raped me, yet. I've had to do some
things that I didn't like, but he hasn't raped me."
"I won't rape you," he said quietly. Andrea actually believed him.
At least in a classic sense. He wouldn't hold her down and force his
penis into her, at least.
"I'll strip for you, but please, lower that gun. You don't need it.
I'll do whatever it is you want. I'll even let you rape me. It's not
like I'm a fucking virgin," Andrea said quietly.
"If you let me have sex with you, is that rape?"
Andrea slowly lowered her hands, careful not to make any sudden
movements.
"It might be," she answered slowly. Her fingers began to unbutton
the blue shirt she wore, her underlying bra peeking into view
through the buttons. At last, she let the garment slip from her
shoulders. Without hesitation, she released the front clip on her
bra and dropped it to join her blouse.
"Aren't you going to beg?" he asked. She looked up, her nipples
crinkling in the cooler air.
"Would it do me any good?"
He slowly shook his head.
"Then why would I beg?"
"Most do."
"Did Kate?" He nodded. "Understandable," Andrea continued. "My
breasts and body don't have anything that you haven't already seen.
Kate is walking proof of that. I don't want to be naked, but I don't
see the point in procrastinating. You obviously intend for me to be
that way, and eventually, you'll get your way. Right?"
She hooked her fingers into the waistband of her pants and pushed
them downwards. She bent to remove her boots and then stepped out of
the pants. Again, she bent to remove her socks, then stood upright
in just her panties.
"Panties, too. And jewellery."
Andrea sighed. "I figured." She turned herself around, arms extended
upwards. "I don't have a weapon. I think you can see that now.
Right?"
He nodded.
"Can you lower that thing? I really don't want to be shot while I'm
actually cooperating with you."
He laughed, and lowered the gun until it rested against his thigh.
Andrea visibly relaxed.
"Thank-you," she said. Without hesitation, she slipped her panties
from her hips, and then raised them on one finger.
"You want them?" she asked.
He laughed again, and shook his head slowly. Andrea dropped the
panties to join the remainder of her clothing at her feet. She
reached for her security cap, but he stopped her.
"Andrea. Leave it. It looks good on you."
She shrugged, aware of her breasts riding unusually exposed. She
dropped her arms.
"Now what?"
<---===***===--->
The marble pressed harshly into her hands and knees. A flush rose
through her skin as she realised what the man was making her do, but
she didn't have many options. Not here. Not now.
She could feel his eyes on her naked skin, probably admiring her
form. Hell, if a naked woman was crawling in front of her, she'd
watch too. Freud be damned.
At his touch, she rose and knelt, her hands resting on her bare
thighs. She cast a wistful glance towards the security desk, where a
flash of red, from her bra, she supposed, peeked out from where
she'd dropped it.
He rummaged in a blue backpack that sat on the floor beside a
brunette girl who was also naked, and cuffed, but wasn't wearing a
collar. He emerged with a what looked like a rubber ball attached to
leather straps.
It was obvious what it was for.
Andrea sighed, and opened her mouth wide as he approached.
He stopped in front of her, a strange look on his face.
"You aren't going to beg?"
"What good would it do me? If you want to gag me, obviously you
can."
"I'll find your limit," he said quietly. And she was sure that he
would. It wouldn't take much, but here and now, cooperation seemed
her best hope of survival. She glanced around at the other girls as
he pressed the gag between her teeth and began to buckle the straps
behind her head.
The other girls had paled at the sight of the gag, and squirmed as
he dealt with the newest girl -- her.
Out of the corner of her eye, a girl, the slightly older girl,
wearing a collar, broke and ran towards the door. A shout screamed
from the girl, crying for help, for the police, anyone. He didn't
turn, but stopped gagging Andrea.
"Monique," he said. "That wasn't very smart."
The running, naked, girl ignored him, and ran headlong into the
revolving door.
"Please, no," she cried as her bound hands pushed against the glass.
It refused to budge for her. Slowly, the man rose to his feet, and
approached where Monique stood, still crying and pushing at the
door. When she saw him approaching, she squealed and began to run
along the bay windows. Suddenly, she tripped with a cry of pain,
falling hard to the marble. She began to crawl, but again fell with
a cry.
"Please, no. Please, I didn't mean it. I'll stay. I'll behave. I'll
fuck. I'll do whatever you want."
Without comment, he wrapped his hand into the girl's hair, and
half-dragged, and she half-crawled screaming back to the group.
Andrea watched all this, not even pushing the unsecured gag from her
mouth.
Kate approached the gunman, shaking. He brushed the girl's fingers
from his arm, and dragged Monique until she'd been forced to kneel
in front of Andrea. Her eyes held fright, and tears streamed down
her face.
Without a word, he uncuffed Monique, and recuffed her wrists behind
her back. It had the affect of pushing her bare breasts forward, but
he seemed to ignore that.
"Spit," he said to Andrea. She looked at him confused, until he
tugged at the strap leading to the ball in her mouth. Realising
what he wanted, she released the ball, and it fell into his waiting
palm.
He turned to Monique. "Open," he ordered. The frightened girl shook
her head. Instead of fighting with her, he gripped her left nipple
and began to twist. She held in the cry for a long time, but
eventually screamed, her mouth opening.
"No, please, no," she managed to cry out before he stuffed the ball
into her mouth. Weeping, she leaned forward, almost allowing him to
lock it behind her head. Her cries muffled into incomprehensible
expressions.
With a tug of her hair, he forced Monique back to her bare feet.
Andrea, remained on her knees, frightened now, with the display.
"She's scared," Andrea said. "I might try it, too."
He smiled. There was no anger or displeasure in his face, only a
kind of sympathy.
"I wouldn't, but you'll probably have to learn that the hard way,"
he said almost kindly. Monique moaned and squirmed until he yanked
on her hair again. Kate and Leigh seemed undecided about what to do
-- almost as if they knew that interfering would make things worse.
Andrea could see that interference probably would. If she stood and
tried to pry his hand out of Monique's hair, he would likely just
wait, and whip the girl later. Or something.
"What do you want?"
"If I told you to, would you have sex with Monique, here?"
"You mean fuck another girl?"
"Yeah?" he nodded, looking down at the kneeling girl.
Andrea shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time. I've never been
forced to fuck another girl, and not one that I hardly know, but I
will, if you'll ungag her."
He laughed, and touched the ball in Monique's mouth. Monique twisted
away with a muffled cry of anger. Her eyes smouldered.
He pushed Monique forward, touching her thighs until Monique moaned
and parted her legs. She began to cry, her breathing becoming ragged
and laboured. Kate stepped forward.
"You have to ungag her," she whispered urgently. "She'll choke."
"Would you rather wear the thing?"
Kate nodded. "Gladly. I'll wear it as long as you like."
He gently pushed Kate away, and she stepped back, her bare foot
brushing Andrea's thigh.
"If she behaves, I'll take it out. Maybe at the hotel."
Monique's eyes widened. Andrea could see the first vestiges of pain
entering the girl's eyes. Even with the short time that the ball had
been in her mouth, Andrea's jaw ached a little. She didn't know how
far it was to the hotel, but she couldn't imagine wearing the thing
that long.
"If I make her climax," Andrea said slowly. "Will you let her go?
Take the gag out?"
"So you'd have sex with her?"
"Of course," Andrea said. Monique's vagina gaped almost obscenely in
front of her eyes.
"Kiss her."
Andrea drew in her breath, and leaned forward. The girl was sweet,
without an abundance of pubic curls. Gently, Andrea kissed her sex,
not delving between the lips. She'd done it before, it was only
skin.
Her own sex tingled a little, but that was easy to quench.
Andrea looked up expectantly.
"No deals," he said. He gripped her upper arm, and Andrea warily
climbed to her feet. Monique still stood, feet parted, where she'd
been placed. Her shoulders shook with her sobs.
"She only did what we all want to do," Kate whispered.
"I know," he said.
He turned towards Leigh.
<---===***===--->
She watched as the leather collar was removed from Kate's throat.
The girl gave her a sympathetic look, but rubbed at the red mark
around her throat as she did.
Andrea sighed.
"Is this really necessarily? I'm not an animal, much as you might
believe otherwise."
"It's not to make you feel like an animal."
"What else could it possibly be for?"
"To remind you of your status."
"As an animal."
"No."
Andrea sighed, but knowing what was inevitably coming, bent her head
forward. She used her cuffed wrists to hold her ponytail out of the
way as he placed the confining leather about her throat. The lock
clicked, and she knew that it wasn't being removed unless she cut it
off, or he removed it. The leash tickled her body as it swung
crazily as she moved.
"It isn't necessary."
"No. It isn't. I want it on you."
She nodded. "I see. Would you like me to crawl, too?"
"That isn't necessary either."
She nodded, staying on her feet, slightly swaying. Her head felt
light, almost as if it were filled with helium. She supposed that
her lower half was demanding blood. The insistent tickle between her
legs had begun to make itself known, again.
(Getting turned on by all this?)
(Yes.)
Andrea sighed, and stumbled into a walk as he gathered up the leash
connected to her neck. Monique cried out, her gag still muffling
coherent speech. She didn't look happy, but she didn't look angry
anymore. If anything, the girl looked to be in more discomfort than
anything else.
She had to share a revolving enclosure with Monique, her bare skin
brushing against the other girl no matter how hard she tried to
avoid it. Kate and Leigh ushered into the enclosure behind, and he
followed the girls outside.
Andrea half expected Monique to cut and run again, but the girl
didn't. Monique's eyes roamed over the busy, but frozen street, half
in a panic at her exposure to the outside world. Kate and Leigh
seemed more at ease with their nudity.
While it felt decidedly odd to be outside in the downtown core,
completely naked, Andrea didn't quite know what she felt yet.
Eventually, all this would sink in, she supposed.
The sun warmed her bare skin, and she waited for him to gather up her
leash. She walked quietly beside Monique while Kate and Leigh walked
ahead. The sidewalk felt odd beneath her bare feet.
Chapter 87
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
"Rachel?"
The girl behind the counter looked up, puzzlement turning to
outright fear as her eyes took in the four naked women standing
behind the man holding a gun. For a moment, Rachel though that she
would faint, but she didn't, holding onto the desk for support.
"How do you know my name?" she asked carefully. She couldn't take
her eyes off the blonde girl wearing the baseball cap, and a collar,
but nothing else. The girl beside her had something that looked like
a red tennis ball wedged in her mouth.
"Unimportant. Where is there a decent submarine shack?"
"What?"
"A sandwich place? Somewhere to get lunch?"
Rachel pointed towards the elevators, her hand visibly shaking.
"Downstairs. In the concourse. There's a deli, and a submarine
place. Why? Why? Why are they ..."
She didn't get to complete the thought. The girls faded, as a
tingling overtook her limbs and then her torso. Strangely, her
nipples tingled last, even when the rest of her was numb. Darkness
descended.
<---===***===--->
"Hold up," he said. Kate and Leigh stopped, and walked slowly back
to where he stood lightly holding the leashes leading to Andrea and
Monique.
Kate glanced at Monique, tears unshed lined her eyelids. Monique
stood with her own eyes closed, a low moan issuing from behind the
ball in her mouth.
"Please," Kate said. "Let her out. Leave her hands cuffed, but take
that damn ball out. I'll wear it if you need someone to wear it.
We'll share it."
"She tried to run."
"Wouldn't you?"
He seemed to consider it, finally turning towards Monique.
"Are you going to try to run again?"
The naked girl slowly shook her head without opening her eyes.
"Are you going to behave? Honour our agreement?"
Monique looked puzzled for a moment, but then nodded
enthusiastically. Slowly, he turned to Kate, digging in his pocket.
He held up a tiny silver key. Kate held out her bound hands, and he
pressed the key into her palm.
"If she acts up, you get to wear it."
Kate nodded, relief flooding her face. She scampered over to
Monique, and began to struggle with the tiny lock holding the gag in
Monique's mouth.
He turned towards Leigh.
"Thank you," Leigh said quietly.
"For what?"
"You could have left her in that all day. Thank you for ungagging
her. I would have traded with her, too."
He shrugged, as if he knew that he could, and Monique's comfort was
only of minor concern to him.
"I know you would."
A slight popping sound emerged as the ball fell from Monique's
mouth. The girl cried out as she worked her stiff jaw, and began to
cry as Kate cradled the gag between her handcuffed hands. Kate
reached up to massage the girl's jaw.
He turned back towards Leigh. He pointed at the store in front of
her. It was one of the larger book chains.
"As the Book Turns," the sign read in blazing red. Customers milled
about frozen at the bargain book bins near the front of the store.
Leigh shrugged, as he motioned for Kate to join them. Kate
abandoned Monique, and padded over.
"Go get yourself a book each," he said.
Leigh and Kate looked at each other, and then at him. He nodded, and
they dashed towards the bookstore, unabashed at their nudity, or
handcuffs. As long as the customers remained frozen, they were
finally getting used to being naked in the world.
Andrea and Monique watched them go wistfully. He found an empty
bench and lowered himself with a sigh, into it. Resigned, Monique
and Andrea walked over, the leashes trailing after them, to stand
and wait.
<---===***===--->
"... the universe deals with paradox. Paradox can't happen."
Andrea shifted, tucking her legs under herself. He wouldn't let her
sit on the bench, but had told both girls to sit. The tile of the
concourse felt dirty against her bare skin, but she didn't think
complaining about it would faze her captor.
"So you couldn't return in time and kill your own parents?"
"I don't think I could return in time. The possibilities for
timeline corruption would be endless, and probably unresolvable. If
I sneezed back in '69, I might not have been born."
"Then what is this place?"
"Parallel universe? Alternate timeline?" he said, shrugging.
"You don't know? Isn't that dangerous to be playing here?"
He nodded. "There are risks, I suppose. But we're here. Paradox
comes into play in other ways. If you turn on a shower, it will
operate, even if the pipes are frozen to it. It operates because it
would if the world were unfrozen. However, a television set won't.
To be honest, I don't understand the difference."
"People," Andrea mused. Her foot itched, and she absently scratched
at her toes with her bound hands. "If there's people involved, then
cause and effect don't work."
"Not quite. I think I'll have to run more simulations. See if
complexity of the system has anything to do with it. Simple things
work. I don't trust elevators here, though."
Monique sighed in response for that. "Forty-two floors," she
murmured. The Timeman ignored Monique, speaking again about paradox.
"But paradox influences philosophy. It brings up an interesting
question."
Andrea looked up past the bill of her cap, from her bare breasts.
He pointed at a patron of the mall -- a mother pushing a baby
carriage. Andrea twisted to look.
"You can't be serious. A mother and a baby?"
"I'm not going to touch them. But suppose I did. What if I killed
the baby, in an attempt to get the mother to do something sexual for
me."
"Anal sex?"
"Whatever. She doesn't want to do it, and I kill the baby. Even
accidently."
"She would."
"What?"
"Give you whatever you asked for. You could rip her insides out
through her throat and her rectum by merely threatening the baby.
Anal sex would be a breeze for her. Mothers are different. Trust me.
She'd do whatever you wanted, without much of a fight."
He seemed to remember another time for a moment, before returning to
the present.
"I could return them, back to the main timeline. Their experience
would never have happened. Period. Existence is based on time.
Without time, the experience doesn't happen. Even if I killed the
baby, on their timeline, it never happened. If I raped the mother.
It didn't happen. Not for them."
Andrea shivered, and shifted, pulling her knees up to her chest, and
encircling her calves with her bound hands. She was aware that her
movement would have given him a show, had he been looking at her,
but he wasn't, instead gazing at the carriage.
"It didn't happen for them. The question is. Did it happen for you?"
she said quietly.
"Yes," he said wearily, "did it happen for me?"
A moment later, he spoke again.
"Isn't that actually the point?"
Andrea shrugged.
"As long as I don't tell the mother that her baby had been killed,
she'd never know. It would be like a fantasy, only existing in my
own mind."
"Philosophically, I don't know. But it seems that this is a little
more than fantasy."
"Is it?"
"There are consequences here, on this timeline, as long as we are
here. Monique hurts because you gagged her for an unreasonable time.
I'm sitting here naked, debating paradox with you. You've hurt
others here, I imagine, before you took me. This may be fantasy for
you, but while we're here, it's pretty real. We're still human
beings, you know. We hurt, and we get embarrassed, and we cry. Just
like you."
He lapsed into silence, and Andrea didn't attempt to reopen the
conversation. She sat naked, and rocked quietly, turned to watch the
front of the book store. Idly, she wondered if Kate and Leigh would
return, or whether they'd try to run. It occurred to Andrea that
this could be a test. She bet on Kate and Leigh returning.
<---===***===--->
Actually laughing, Kate and Leigh appeared holding a few books in
their bound hands. They ran back to where the Timeman sat on the
bench. Andrea pushed herself up, and helped Monique to stand again
as they approached.
Her stomach growled as she realised that she was hungry.
"What did you get?"
"Leigh, the silly girl, wanted to pay for them," Kate said
breathlessly. Her happiness was infectious. Andrea felt uplifted,
and a smile graced the face of Monique for the first time since
she'd been ungagged. Kate continued the story. "She made me go to
the cashiers before she realised that even if she had money, she
didn't have any pockets." Kate sobered a little. "So, we applied our
five finger discount. I don't think they'll care."
Leigh looked a little abashed at the story, but held out the two
books she held in her hands. He lifted them, one at a time.
"The Throat? Peter Straub? A Tale of Two Cities? Dickens?"
"The Peter Straub book is for me, and the Dickens I got for Andrea
or Monique. I didn't know what else to get."
He picked up Kate's books. "The Two Towers? And Agatha Christie?"
Kate shrugged. "I was reading The Lord of the Rings, um, before you
took me, and the Agatha Christie can be for whoever wants to read
it."
Andrea smiled. "I've never read Dickens."
"Christie is fine with me," Monique chimed in.
He walked forward and unclipped the leashes from the throats of
Monique and Andrea. The girls looked appreciative, even as he wound
them into a ball and slipped the leashes and the books into the
backpack. Kate bent and picked up the pack, and they moved down the
concourse, together, slipping around patrons.
He looked strangely at a mother pushing her baby in a carriage, and
all but Andrea cringed. They continued on, until the lights of a
food court grabbed their attention.
Chapter 88
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Penelope, the girl behind the submarine counter, stood looking
bored. The girl was petite, slim, and bleached blonde, perhaps
recently out of high school, probably dropped out to be working
here. Or perhaps she was unfortunate enough to be the daughter of
the franchisee. Either way, Leigh figured the girl wouldn't be bored
much longer.
Kate stepped forward, rubbing her breasts purposely across the
Timeman's upper arm. He seemed to lose concentration, and the girl
remained frozen behind the counter.
"I can make us sandwiches, if that's what you want," Kate murmured.
"That's what she's paid to do," the Timeman pointed out.
"She's not paid for what she's about to see," Kate said. "I'll be
glad to make whatever you want, and even serve it to you. I'm
already naked." She paused, thinking. "And I'm hungry, too. It's
been a long morning. I'm not sure I want to wait while you terrorise
another girl."
"You'll wait if I tell you to."
"Of course," Kate said, taking a step back. "But I thought ..."
"Thanks," he said. But he turned towards the counter again.
The girl's eyes opened wider as she noted the new customers that had
appeared in front of her. Leigh tried to cover her nudity, before
realising how useless the gesture was. She dropped her cuffed hands.
Penelope screamed, and then screamed again when he idly showed the
girl the gun.
"What do you want?" the girl asked, nearly hysterical.
"I want you to remove your uniform top."
"Why? Please," the girl begged.
He showed her the gun again. "Nobody is going to help you. Nobody
is going to care that you are naked, except me, and perhaps the
girls here. If you do what you're told, I'll let you go as soon as
you make some lunch for us."
"L-l-lunch?"
"You make subs for a living, don't you?"
"I'm an artist," she said almost automatically.
"I see. So you've done nude modelling."
"What?"
He aimed the gun at her throat, and the terrified girl backed up
until her bottom hit the sink behind her.
"I thought I told you to take off your top. I won't make you take
everything off. Only your top. And your bra, if you're wearing one."
"Oh, God. Please, no."
Kate stepped up the counter, waving the gun down. Almost as if he
was listening to the naked redhead, he lowered the gun for a moment.
Penelope, behind the counter, seemed to relax a bit, though her eyes
seemed glued to Kate's breasts visible through the glass of the
condiment shelf.
"Penelope, right?"
The girl nodded dumbly.
"Look at us. You have to trust me. This is a strange place you've
been dragged into. Look at all the girls. He makes us all strip.
Hurts us, if we don't. Do you understand?"
Penelope nodded, though it was clear that she didn't understand at
all.
"He'll hurt you if you don't take off your clothes. At least he's
letting you keep your bottoms. Around here, even a baseball cap is
special. Please. I don't want to see you hurt, Penelope. Do you
want me to come back there and help you?"
The girl shook her head.
"Will you take off your top? There's nobody here but us." Kate said
soothingly. "And most of us are naked, too."
The girl seemed to relax while the gun wasn't aimed at her, and Kate
was talking to her. Slowly, she began to unbutton her top. She was
wearing a turtle neck under it, and she pulled that over her head.
She hesitated at her bra, looking at Kate for help.
"If it were up to me," Kate said quietly, "you could keep your
uniform. I don't need my sandwich maker nude. But he'll hurt you, if
you don't. I'm so sorry." Kate raised her arms above her head, her
breasts rising attractively as if to punctuate the point that all
the girls were already nude.
With a small sob, the girl unclasped the underwear and let it drop.
Her hands shielded her nipples from view. When Kate looked back
around, the Timeman had seated himself at a table. The other three
girls still stood near the counter.
"Six assorted subs on dark bread, please," the Timeman said.
Penelope nodded, finally, a normal task for which she'd been trained
presenting itself. She pulled bread from the oven, and began to make
sandwiches.
Andrea's voice broke the quiet.
"Um? Assorted subs have meat on them, right?"
Penelope nodded, not looking up from her hands spreading lettuce and
cheese on the six buns.
Andrea turned towards the Timeman.
"Can I have mine without meat?"
"Why?" he asked.
"I'm kind of a vegetarian."
"Not here," he said.
"Even here."
"I can force you to eat meat," he said.
"I was hoping that you wouldn't be that petty," she said quietly.
"But, of course, I would eat meat rather than see someone hurt."
He seemed satisfied, leaning back in the hard plastic chair of the
restaurant.
"If it's all the same, I'll skip lunch, then," she said.
"I heard your stomach growling earlier," he said.
Penelope had stopped making sandwiches to follow the exchange. When
he glanced at her, she began again to move her hands, fitting meat
slices on the bread.
"I'm hungry," Andrea acknowledged. "But I'd rather be hungry, given
the choice, than to eat meat. Please?" she asked. "Do you want me to
kneel?"
He shook his head.
"Make one of them a vegetarian," he called to Penelope. The topless
girl nodded, and slipped the meat from one of the sandwiches back
into its storage bin.
"Thank-you," Andrea whispered before she turned back towards the
counter.
<---===***===--->
Her voice wavered as she wrapped up the sandwiches and placed them
into a plastic bag. Her fingers punched keys on the electronic cash
register.
"That'll be twenty-two dollars, thirty cents," she said.
He laughed, and approached the counter. Penelope paled, again, using
her hands to shield her bare breasts.
"You're kidding, right? I suppose if you want payment, I could get
Monique to have sex with you. Would that be acceptable as payment? I
don't really have any money."
Penelope shook her head, bleached hair swaying across her shoulders.
"I didn't think so," he said. He eyed Monique as if contemplating
forcing her to have sex with the girl anyway. Monique paled and
shook her head, no.
"I'll have sex with her, if you must do it," Andrea said quietly. "I
don't mind."
He shook his head, and reached over the counter, grabbing the
plastic bag from Penelope's lax fingers. Almost simultaneously,
Penelope skipped to where they'd at first seen the girl, looking
bored, but topless, her fingers on the counter top. A moment later,
her clothing appeared against her skin.
He sighed, and ushered the naked contingent of girls back out into
the concourse.
<---===***===--->
The bag weighed heavy in Leigh's hands, but she didn't complain
about carrying the sandwiches. Her own stomach growled. She'd
expended a lot of energy this morning, and she wanted to eat. At
least he'd chosen something that they could all eat comfortably with
their hands, since she doubted if he'd allow any of them cutlery.
Almost like a gentleman, he held the door to the stairs open for the
girls. They passed through, Leigh last. She turned before he closed
the door. The sound of three sets of bare feet pattered up the
concrete steps, low moans of effort filtering down the stairs.
"Are you going to keep teasing us, forever?" Leigh asked.
He smiled and looking upwards, watched as Monique's bound wrists
disappeared around the first turn in the staircase. Leigh parted her
legs as he touched them. Her gasp rose, and the patter of bare feet
stopped for a moment. His finger touched her between her lips,
circling her swollen clitoris twice, and he showed her the result.
Moisture, her moisture, coated his finger. But she could have told
him that she was wet, without the tease. She eased her legs back
together with a small moan.
"Maybe later," he said.
He held his finger to her lips, urging them apart. She moaned as his
finger slipped between her lips. She considered biting him, for a
moment, then simply let her tongue remove her own scent and taste.
"I'm hungry," Kate's voice called down the stairs. "What are you
two doing down there? Having sex?"
"Close," he said, as he urged Leigh towards the first stair. His
voice ascended to the redhead. The steps on the stairs resumed
again.
She pulled at her bound wrists in frustration, but began to climb.
Her calves burned as she took the first step upwards. Ten flights to
go. Her whole body throbbed.
Chapter 89
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
As soon as Leigh was free, she ran to the naked girl tied into the
chair, ignoring her aching calves. She knelt, her fingers fumbling
at the knots holding the girl into the chair.
When Kate was free, she picked up the plastic bag, carried it to the
small coffee table, and began to extract the sandwiches within.
Andrea and Monique stood awkwardly in the front entrance rubbing
their suddenly freed limbs, and trying to catch their breath. A
cart, with the remnants of an opulent breakfast stood beside them,
bathed in white linen.
The Timeman lowered himself into a sofa, eyes watching the various
naked females as they busied themselves around the suite.
Linda rose from her chair, as Leigh sighed in satisfaction and began
to coil up the ropes that had held Linda. Linda stretched, and
turned, her eyes widening at the sight of Andrea and Monique
standing in the front entrance. She turned, the question dying on
her lips. She yawned and stretched, finally lowering herself to her
knees without being told.
"You didn't have to leave me like that," Linda said quietly.
The Timeman turned his attention to the kneeling girl, and shrugged.
"Was it that bad?"
Linda looked up for a moment, nodding her head. "It hurts, staying
in the same position for hours. My ass is numb."
He laughed, but Linda didn't find her discomfort particularly funny.
Despite that, she was happy to be freed from the chair, and she
lapsed into silence.
Kate spread the wax paper wrapping in front of the Timeman,
smoothing it with her fingers. A submarine sandwich sat like an
island in the middle of the paper.
"That's not the vegetarian one is it?" he asked her.
Kate shook her head and pointed to another sandwich, beside her.
"That one's Andrea's," she said. "I don't have a death wish."
He nodded, and picked up his sandwich. He looked at it, without
taking a bite, then returned it to the paper. Kate continued to
place the sandwiches around the table, one for each girl, leaving
the longest side of the table for their captor. The girls would be
jammed together, but Kate didn't think they'd mind the distance
between them and the clothed man.
When the last sandwich was ready, he looked up, motioning the other
girls to the table. Hesitantly, Andrea and Monique joined the other
three nude girls at the table. Without prompting, Andrea knelt
beside Kate, squirming in, eyeing her sandwich.
"We can eat, now?" Kate asked, touching Andrea's hand before she
picked up her sandwich. Andrea looked puzzled for a moment, then
returned her hands to her lap. Her stomach growled quietly, and she
shifted on her knees.
"When Monique decides to join us."
Kate glanced up. Monique stood behind her, shifting her weight from
bare foot, to bare foot.
"I won't kneel to eat," she said.
He looked up sharply at the girl. "The Japanese do it. Why not?"
"It's bad enough that I'm naked and here, but to kneel to eat. I
won't do it."
"Excuse me?" He rested his hand on the butt of the gun still visible
in his waistband.
Linda looked up, worry crossing her brow.
"Monique, right?"
Monique nodded, turning her attention to Linda. Angry red marks
adorned the girl's wrists from the rope that had held her to the
chair for hours.
Linda hesitated, glancing over at the Timeman. The man nodded almost
imperceptibly, almost as if he hoped that this could be avoided.
"You don't want to do this. He'll punish you."
"I know," Monique said.
"You want to be punished?"
Monique shook her head. A tear began to fall down her cheeks. She
brushed at it, almost tenderly. "I don't want to be naked. I don't
want to kneel. I don't care anymore."
Linda sighed, rising to her feet. She approached Monique.
"He tied me into that chair. He tied ropes to my breasts, and then
to my toes. I couldn't hold my legs up, and it hurt. It hurt. It
hurt. It hurt. I don't want to see anyone go through that."
Monique shook her head. "Integrity," she whispered.
"Integrity will only get you so far," Linda whispered. "He'll make
you do it. You are far stronger to simply kneel and eat. Please,"
she said. Linda turned away before Monique could answer, returning
to her spot, her bare thighs touching both Andrea and Leigh. She
bowed her head, almost as if she were praying.
When Monique still didn't kneel, Kate turned towards her.
"Please, Monique?"
Monique shook her head.
"For me? Think. Downstairs, you agreed to do what he wanted. God
knows, it isn't easy sometimes. But he'll gag me, not you. And I'm
hungry. You know I'd take the gag for you anytime, but not for this.
It isn't worth it. We kneel all the time."
"I can't," Monique whispered. Tears ran in streams down her face.
Kate sighed, and took a wistful look at her still untouched
sandwich. She opened her mouth wide, and looked at the Timeman.
"I want you to eat, Kate. I'll gag you later," the Timeman said
quietly. Kate closed her mouth, a dreadful dryness permeating her
tongue and gums.
Slowly, he rose, and stepped towards Andrea. The girl cringed, but
didn't attempt to escape. The tip of the gun caressed her temple.
"I will hurt her," he said quietly. Andrea paled. He reached down,
his fingers gripping Andrea's left nipple. He tweaked it gently, and
Andrea yelped, but didn't try to stop him from touching her.
Monique sighed, and lowered herself to her knees, beginning to
shuffle forward towards the table.
"You win," she said dully. "Don't hurt her."
"It's far too late for that, Monique. You know that, don't you?" The
girl stopped, and looked up as he released Andrea. Andrea breathed a
loud sigh of relief.
He walked to Monique, gently guiding the girl on her knees towards
Linda's chair.
Silently, she positioned herself as he requested, her ankles to the
outside of the legs, and her hands behind her back, kneeling on the
carpet.
"Leigh, tie her."
Leigh shook her head, but moved towards Monique anyway.
"Please don't make me do this. Any of us could have slipped like
that."
"Some slip," he murmured and returned to his seat. He began to eat,
as he watched Leigh tie Monique into the seat with the ropes that
had restrained Linda for so long.
Monique squirmed, but didn't complain about her punishment. When
she was done, Leigh looked up expectantly.
"She won't resist anymore. Let her eat?"
He shook his head. "She lost that privilege when she wouldn't kneel
immediately."
"She's a human being. She needs to eat."
"I don't want to eat," Monique said quietly.
Leigh sighed, and shuffled on her bare knees back to the table. She
looked at her food distastefully. He put down his sandwich, and
stepped around the table, finally bending and extracting the gag
again from the pack. Kate looked worried for a moment, but he
approached Monique, dangling the ball from his fingers.
"Remember this?"
The girl nodded dully, her eyes following its gentle swing. Without
being asked, she winced as she opened her mouth to accept it.
Sighing, he pushed it between her teeth and fastened it with a click
behind her head.
"Are you going to behave?" he asked her.
She shook her head. The pain from the gag hadn't set in yet, though
she appeared to be in discomfort.
Gently, he ran his hands over her body. Monique closed her eyes, and
tilted her head back, obviously trying to ignore the touches. He
tickled her nipples, which reacted despite her obvious attempts to
ignore the sensations, and then he trailed his fingers down her
belly to her sex. Monique moaned, but tried to stay still as his
fingers entered her.
He didn't stay with her, but rose back to the sofa. He regarded all
the naked girls staring at him with reproach and barely concealed
fear. He smiled, and held up his fingers, tickling Leigh's nose. She
wrinkled her nose, but apparently knew what he wanted. Her tongue
snaked out of her mouth, and licked at the offered fingers.
"She wasn't reacting," he said. None of the girls seemed surprised.
Monique moaned as he unabashed spoke of her sexual response.
"Eat up," he said. "I'll let her go after lunch."
Kate shook her head, and spoke for all the girls around the table.
"I'm not very hungry," she said.
He leaned back in the sofa, crossing his arms across his chest.
"Normally, I'd let you make a decision on whether to eat or not, but
I must insist. I want you all to have your strength."
"I won't eat," Kate said. "You'll have to force feed me, or let
Monique go."
He sighed. "I don't want to hurt her, but I will." Menace dripped
from his voice. Then, he shrugged, and picked up his own sandwich,
tearing off a bite.
Kate sighed. She didn't want to see Monique tortured only to make
her eat. She picked up her sandwich, aware that all the other girls
were watching her. The taste of the sandwich flooded her mouth, and
she sighed contentedly. When she opened her eyes, all the girls were
eating their sandwiches under the watchful eyes of their captor.
<---===***===--->
"I'll feed her, if you don't want to untie her. Please?" Leigh
begged. She knelt closer to him, her hands pulling gently at his
jeans. "She'll need her strength, too, won't she?"
He nodded. "If you can get her to eat, I'll ungag her for it."
Leigh raised a grateful face to his, rising up on her knees and
impulsively kissed his cheek. He looked surprised at the gesture,
but waved her away.
Leigh rose, walked over to Monique who looked up at her with tears
in her eyes. Leigh knelt back down so she was at eye-level with the
bound girl.
"Please, Monique. He'll ungag you, at least for a while."
Monique slowly shook her head.
"You have to eat. You are going to need your strength. You know what
he demands of us."
Monique's eyes cried out: "I don't care anymore."
"You do care. You care about us, as we care about you. We can't
stand to see you like this. Please."
Monique shook her head again. A muffled word emerged around the gag.
"We don't even know when we'll get to eat again. We don't know
anything. Eat while you can, Monique. For us?"
Monique began to cry harder, but still shook her head.
Leigh sighed, and leaned forward. She kissed Monique's cheek,
tasting the salty wetness there.
"We don't like seeing you like this. It could be any of us," Leigh
whispered. Then she pushed herself back to her bare feet, and knelt
back at her place at the table. Slowly, she took another bite of
her own sandwich.
He was finished his sandwich, and he watched the girls eat for a few
more minutes in silence. Then he reached forward to the empty place
between Linda and Leigh, and carefully wrapped Monique's sandwich
back up. He placed it in front of his place, then leaned back.
He seemed genuinely disappointed that even Leigh hadn't been able to
convince Monique to eat.
"Maybe later," he said quietly.
<---===***===--->
"You're going to keep her, aren't you?" Leigh said quietly.
The rest of the girls had spread themselves around the suite, Andrea
and Linda talking quietly sitting on the tiles near the hot tub, and
Kate reclining on the other love seat. Monique remained on her
knees, crying quietly tied to the chair, still gagged.
"Who?"
Leigh turned to look at the bound woman, her head bowed, and her
body shaking.
"Monique."
"Why would you say that?"
"You wouldn't be doing this to her, if she wasn't going to stay for
a while."
He regarded the naked girl. Leigh leaned forward, aware of her body,
but leaning her elbows on the coffee table.
"Let her out. Even if she's not staying. Please?"
"In a moment."
"She's learned her lesson."
"I'm not sure she has, but we don't have time to let her kneel there
to learn it completely."
"That's why you are keeping her."
The man regarded the girl again. Her breasts peeked between her
upper arms, almost invitingly.
"Yes," he said simply.
Then, he pushed himself up, looking at all the girls spread over the
room. He smiled as their soft conversations eased at his movement.
"Everyone ready to move?" he asked.
Chapter 90
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Leigh knelt, and began to work at the knots that held Monique.
Monique sighed, and didn't squirm as the ropes fell from her limbs.
The knots weren't nearly as tight as the ones that had held Linda,
but presumably Monique hadn't struggled nearly as much, either.
The other girls busied themselves returning various implements to
the backpack, and then standing naked by the doorway. It wasn't as
if there were suitcases of clothing to pack away -- everything was
in order in a matter of minutes.
Monique sighed through her gag as she pushed herself to her feet
after the last of the ropes fell from her body. She rubbed at her
wrists where dark red lines marked her pale skin. She tugged at the
ball futilely, her eyes begging him to release her. Without a word
to her, he unlocked the leather, and allowed her to pull the ball
from her mouth.
"Thank you," Monique mumbled. She didn't return to her knees, but
merely watched as Leigh coiled the ropes quickly around her own arm.
Leigh rose, and padded to the front door. Monique trailed after her.
Leigh slipped the coils of ropes into the backpack.
"Where are we going?" she asked him, as he made a final survey of
the room.
Satisfied, he turned towards Leigh, and responded.
"Not all of us are going."
Leigh looked around at the other girls.
"Handcuff Monique and Andrea. Hands behind them."
Leigh faced him. "Why?"
"You don't need to know."
"I know that. Please, why?"
"Because they're new, and I want them restrained. You and Kate can
go without."
Leigh shook her head. "If it's all the same to you, if Monique and
Andrea have to wear handcuffs, I will, too."
Kate looked disappointed, but nodded as well. She held her wrists
behind her back and turned.
Linda, after a moment, held her hands behind her back as well, in a
show of solidarity.
He laughed and shook his head, as if marvelling at the girl's
dedication to each other. He turned to Linda, motioning her forward.
Leigh bent to gather five sets of handcuffs from the pack.
"Linda won't be joining us," he said. Linda looked stricken, and she
swallowed heavily.
"Please, I don't want to be left alone again. If you do leave me,
please don't tie me. I'll do whatever you want. Please?"
He grinned, and touched her bare shoulder.
"Linda, my dear, I'm letting you go."
"Go? Like I don't have to be tied anymore? Hurt anymore? Naked
anymore?"
"Sort of. You'll be naked, but only because you'll be in the
bathtub."
"You're kidding."
He slowly shook his head. A smile broke across Linda's face, but
when she turned to face the other girls, her face fell a little.
"I can't leave them," she whispered.
Leigh shuddered, dropping the handcuffs she held in her right hand
to the tile of the entrance hallway. The handcuffs clattered and
jingled. She stepped forward, embracing Linda.
"Don't be stupid," she whispered. "We'll be fine without you. You
have more to worry about. Enjoy being a newlywed without worrying
about walking around naked, for him."
"But ..."
Leigh raised her finger and touched Linda's lips. Then she kissed
her. The kiss was chaste, but it still sent shivers through her
spine. She shook off the feeling and embraced the girl tighter.
"No buts," Leigh said. "Go back where you belong. Please. For us.
All of us want you to go home."
Linda nodded, turning to Kate. She held out her hand, but Kate
jumped forward and hugged her, too. Bare skin rubbed, but they
didn't care.
"I'm sorry about what I said to you," Linda whispered.
Kate shrugged. "I would have said the same things. Strength comes in
different packages." She hugged Linda tighter.
"I know that now. Thank you," Linda whispered with a final squeeze.
She waved to the other two girls, and stepped back in front of the
Timeman. The Timeman let his gaze travel her body, and Linda simply
allowed him to do it, unabashed. She was going home.
He led Linda back to the hot tub, and guided her up the stairs.
Linda waved, and then settled beneath the bubbles, sighing as the
water surrounded her.
"Good-bye," she said. Then she gasped once and fell silent, her body
unmoving.
He returned to Leigh and Kate. "She'll be all right in there, even
if we never came back."
"You didn't let her go?"
"I didn't return her, no. She and Mark share a timeline, but she
would never know it. If we decide to come back, they'll still be
here."
Kate sighed. "I hope we don't."
Leigh echoed the sentiment, and bent to pick up four out of the five
handcuffs that she'd originally gathered. The remaining pair,
Linda's pair, lay accusingly against the pink tile.
Andrea and Monique turned and meekly accepted the cuffs. As Leigh
turned towards Kate, the Timeman stopped her.
"If Kate wants to be a martyr, I'm not going to stop her, but she
has to wear the cuffs in front."
Kate looked at him quizzically, but slowly returned her hands in
front of her, turning back around to face Leigh. Leigh clipped the
restraints around Kate's wrists, finally struggling to close her own
pair about her wrists behind her. Kate touched her shoulder, and she
turned, presenting her back to the redhead. Kate quickly ratcheted
the devices closed about Leigh's wrists, and then all the girls
turned to face the Timeman. He gazed at the girl in the tub for a
moment, and then opened the door. The girls had to sidestep around
Mark. Leigh shivered as her breasts dragged gently across his cold,
dead skin. But after she was out, she relaxed, and waited for the
Timeman to slip past Linda's frozen husband.
"Couldn't have been in a more awkward place, could he?"
"You froze him there," Leigh said.
He laughed, and then began to lead the way. As the door closed,
Leigh watched the hot tub, and Linda, slowly fade from view.
It had been home, of sorts, for her, and she felt a tug in her
heart. When she looked up, the girls had nearly disappeared down the
long corridor towards the stairs.
"Sleep well, Linda," she said as she ran to catch up with the group.
<---===***===--->
The backseat was a tight squeeze for the girls. Leigh's shoulder
jammed up against the window, and her knees pressed into the
passenger seat. Her bare skin pressed closely against Andrea's
thigh, and the air felt warm and stale in the back. Monique sat in a
similar position behind the driver.
The Timeman enjoyed the relative spaciousness of the passenger seat,
and Kate sat behind the wheel.
"Now I know why you wanted me cuffed in front."
"You'd hit a lot of Mercedes if you were handcuffed behind. Don't
get used to it, though."
"I won't."
After a few minutes, she asked, "So where are we taking the party
now?"
He turned in his seat, the seatbelt stretching from his shoulder.
The girls weren't wearing seatbelts.
"To our next home."
Kate sighed, and held out her hands. She still marvelled that she
was sitting here without clothing, her hands held together with the
thin chain and the metal bracelets. Her bare feet caressed the
pedals.
He raised himself slightly off the seat, and rummaged in his
pockets, eventually producing the shiny Toyota key. He pressed the
key into Kate's open palm, and the girl twisted in her seat,
fumbling it into the ignition.
The engine purred to life, and the Timeman settled back into the
seat. Kate drew a deep breath, and moved her feet on the peddles.
The car jumped forward, and stalled. The girls in the back groaned
as they were jostled.
Kate sighed, and restarted the engine, this time easing the car into
gear. She navigated around a blue delivery van, and slowly picked
her way through the littered downtown streets.
"Where are we going?" she asked quietly. The Timeman was watching
the pavement slip by as Kate drove carefully around another parked
Jaguar.
"North," he said without looking at her.
Kate sighed, and concentrated on changing gears and keeping the
small car on the road.
<---===***===--->
"Turn right," he said.
The traffic light was stuck on perpetual red. Kate ignored it, and
twisted the wheel. The car responded, and slipped onto a wide,
mostly empty street. Long lots, ringed with decorative black fences
and gates, underlying towering elms, lined the road. The only cars
that Kate needed to avoid were expensive BMW's, Jaguars, Mercedes,
and even a Ferrari.
"Where are we?" Kate asked.
"Almost there," he said. His eyes scanned the expensive looking
properties to the right and left.
"Here," he said.
Kate pressed gently on the brake pedal, the car slowly riding to a
stop. She depressed the clutch as the engine began to falter.
"Here?"
Kate's eyes widened. He pointed, as if this were the most natural
destination in the city.
"Here?" she repeated.
He nodded. Without thought, she slipped the car back into gear, and
turned left between the towering brick gates, and over the asphalt
of the driveway.
The girls tumbled from the car, helped by both the Timeman and Kate.
The asphalt was warm and comforting beneath Kate's feet.
She stood with the other girls, in awe, looking up at the mansion
rising before her. She shielded her eyes with her hands.
"Here?" she said again.
"We needed some place to crash for the night, didn't we?" he said.
The Timeman began to walk up the marble staircase leading to the
enormous front doors.
"Is this a castle? Or a house?" Kate whispered. The rest of the
girls merely watched, agape, as the Timeman ascended.
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