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Chapter 91
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The engine finally died as she struggled to guide the big car around
the latest traffic jam. Abandoning the car in the middle of an
intersection, Dawn opened the door and stepped out onto the warm
asphalt. She glanced up the street. Overtop of the litter of frozen
pedestrians and cars, the building shone in the afternoon sun,
windows reflecting sunlight like a million copper sheets.
With a sigh, Dawn turned towards the old vehicle, something familiar
in a sea of chaos. She could sense it on two levels, with her eyes,
in the conventional sense, and outside of that, in the blue haze.
She nearly released it, but then caught herself. If she released it,
it would snap back to her driveway -- a long walk away. It didn't
take much effort to maintain the pocket of time -- it was generating
it that exhausted her mind, body, and soul. Her body throbbed again.
Turning from the rusty Buick, she set off, threading through
unresponsive pedestrians, and other obstructions.
<---===***===--->
The building rose impossibly tall above her, like a huge,
threatening dinosaur. She swallowed heavily, her hands on her hips.
(Do I want to go in there?)
He was no longer in there, she could sense that with the same
internal sight that allowed her to sense the Buick sitting idle four
blocks from here.
(Do I want to go in there?)
The revolving door mocked her, as the tingles began to rush through
her nerves again.
(Please, not again.)
She let her breath escape between her lips, and stepped determinedly
towards the glass enclosure of the lobby.
<---===***===--->
Her face rested in her hands, her breathing ragged. The cool of the
frozen glass behind her seeped into her back through her sweatshirt.
(I can't. Not here. Please.)
The door had yielded, with some effort, but it had taken its toll.
Her mind spun, reeling with hormone induced fatigue. Her nipples
and clitoris felt like they were on fire.
She yanked her hand from massaging her breast through her clothing.
A tear slipped from her eyes to burn down her cheek.
<---===***===--->
Her heart still raced, and her pulse pounded between her legs, and
in her chest, but she had regained some composure. She glanced
around the huge lobby. Everywhere, people stared at her, blank gazes
accusing her.
(I'm not a slut. I'm not.)
Slowly, she walked towards the security desk. The scene superimposed
itself through her sight. She'd been here, recently -- as Kate, a
naked girl standing there, bare feet warming the marble. Her breasts
tingled again at the intimate memory.
Except the blonde girl -- the security guard with the baseball cap
-- wasn't here. Dawn leaned on the marble of the security console. A
comfortable swivel chair sat devoid of presence.
With a start, a flash of red caught her eye. Slowly, she lowered her
belly from the console, walking around the edge of the desk. Even
here, it seemed wrong to invade the sanctuary of the security desk
-- almost as if a sign proclaimed it private territory --
"Trespassers will be shot."
She bent and fingered the fabric lying carelessly on the ground. A
lacy bra, not a practical one, lay amongst other discarded clothing.
"You want them?"
With a start, Dawn glanced around the silent lobby.
"Who's there?" she asked, breathlessly.
No answer returned. Dawn rose, still holding the brassiere in her
fingers. There was no movement in the lobby anywhere.
Dawn screamed as the vision slammed into her. She dropped the red
cloth from her hand as a blonde girl appeared behind the desk. She
twirled the fabric around her index finger, staring beyond where Dawn
stood transfixed.
"You want them?" the girl asked.
"No," Dawn whispered.
The image of the girl faded, her panties joining the rest of her
clothing behind the desk. Dawn shook her head as the real world
returned for her. Somewhere, inside, she knew that she'd witnessed
the past. She nudged the red bra back towards the back of the desk
to join the small pile of women's clothing there. On top of the pile
sat the panties that Dawn had seen the girl twirling about her
finger playfully.
<---===***===--->
She stared at the elevator doors. She pressed the little arrow that
should have glowed green, pointing upwards. The light didn't go on,
and neither did she hear the rumble that should have indicated an
elevator on its way.
She sighed, tried to expand the time bubble that encapsulated the
control, but it resisted her. Her mind swam with sexual energy, and
she moaned as finally, she was forced to abandon this. She glanced
up, cringing.
Suite 4201, the little silver plaque had read. Forty-two flights.
She nearly turned back towards the revolving door, and back to the
Buick, but at last walked to the brown door flanking the elevator
banks. She touched the door. She had to know.
It took most of her will, but she managed to get the door open
without touching her nipples.
<---===***===--->
She rested every five flights. Her footsteps didn't echo, and it
felt like the stairs would ascend until she reached heaven.
Kate and Leigh and the Timeman had done it. She could, too.
Somehow, she didn't think she would meet heaven. Something
different, perhaps.
Wearily, she rose again, and began to climb again. One stair at a
time.
<---===***===--->
Too many damn doors.
She sat in the same chair that Leigh had curled up in to read
Reader's Digest. Slowly, Dawn traced her fingers over the
mini-magazine as she tried to quell the insistent throbbing that
distracted her concentration.
The guy behind the reception desk mocked her, but Dawn was beyond
caring who saw her flushed, and uncomfortable. Yes, she was
sexually aroused, but who wasn't in this mixed up, crazy world.
Nobody that she'd seen.
She finally pushed herself to her feet and stumbled across to the
oaken doors that led to the office beyond.
"What the hell are you looking at?" she whispered to the boy as she
passed the reception desk. She had a sudden impulse to drop to her
knees, and crawl under his desk. She bet the damn universe would let
her unfreeze the boy, if she intended to have sex with him. In any
capacity.
She fought down the urge, and approached the door.
She braced herself for the onslaught of hormones, but extended the
time bubble anyway. She cried out as she nearly climaxed, snatching
her hand from her groin.
(No. No. No.)
She reached forward with her left hand, her fingers lightly coated
with her own scent and moisture. She slipped through the door,
sinking to the carpet beyond. When she realised what she was doing,
she forced her fingers from her mouth.
She cried for a while, but eventually, pushed herself back to her
feet.
<---===***===--->
Somehow, she knew. She didn't know how that knowledge had infused
her mind, but she knew. The door in front of her -- he'd been in
there.
She took a deep breath, and extended her aura to include the door.
She twisted the doorknob, and stumbled through, her body insistent
and close.
<---===***===--->
A woman -- the woman from the hallway -- crawled on all fours around
the periphery of the room. She was recognisable despite her head
hanging, and her being naked as the day she'd been born. She was an
extraordinarily attractive woman.
The Timeman sat on the edge of the desk between two men who seemed
to be awake. The older one, Blake, spoke about philosophy and truth
with the Timeman, while the younger man watched as the girl crawled,
crying and naked, around the edge of the room.
Dawn cried out, and forced the images from her mind. She stood
shaking, just inside the door to the opulent office.
Blake sat behind his desk, his eyes lifted a little from the
telephone in front of him. He seemed to be staring at Dawn, though
she knew that was impossible.
With a start, Dawn yanked back down her sweatshirt, and tore her
fingers from her nipples.
(No. Please, no.)
(Yes, Pandora, yes.)
She moaned, sinking to the floor. She cradled her head on her hands,
sure she would fall into a deep sleep, right there on the floor of
Blake's office. Her fingers trembled, and blue light infused her
vision.
(I won't masturbate. I won't.)
(Why?)
(Because I'm stronger than that.)
(You need to.)
(I don't. I don't.)
She wasn't sure of that, but after a while, she dried her eyes, and
pushed herself back to her feet. She swayed, lights dancing in front
of her closed eyes.
She braced herself again, and slipped back out into the hallway.
<---===***===--->
Dawn moaned again. The image of a brunette lay on the cluttered
desk, somehow merging with the controlled chaos of papers, pens, and
clips that sat there now. The crawling girl was on her knees, her
head buried between the brunette's thighs.
A sharp sound, of metal striking bare flesh captured Dawn's
attention. The Timeman stood with a frightened blond. Another red
stripe from the metal ruler marked her face.
"Stop, please stop," Dawn whispered.
As if it listened to her, the images faded. But the scents remained
-- musk and sex -- and Dawn turned from the room, without thought
cringing as her own body cried out as the door opened.
"Oh God," she moaned. She sank to her knees, sobbing in the hallway.
<---===***===--->
She stood scared in front of the reception desk, her hands braced
against it to try and control the shaking. Her mind filled with
unwelcome images -- naked girls in chains.
She'd nearly done it. God. She'd nearly done it.
The boy sat in front of her, innocently unaware of her presence. He
would have fucked her, too, she was sure.
All she needed to do was cast the time bubble around him. It would
be simple. For him. And she would strip, and he'd ... fuck her.
She moaned like an animal, falling to her knees in front of the
desk. She could crawl under the desk, hidden from view -- only the
boy would know what she was doing with her lips.
(You won't make it down those stairs)
She moaned again, snatching her fingers from her own mouth.
(No. I'm not a damn nymph.)
(No. But Pandora was.)
(I won't fuck him.)
(Then you have to do what you don't want to do.)
(I can't.)
(You better.)
She finally gave in, feeling her fingers, as if they belonged to
someone else, unbuttoning her jeans and lowering the zipper.
"Please, no," she whispered. But her voice fell unheeded into the
silence of the world.
Her fingers didn't even feel like her own, brushing against the soft
folds of her vagina and clitoris. Her left hand kneaded her right
breast, pinching hard at her nipple. It didn't take long. Couldn't.
Images and emotions of Kate, and Leigh, and the other girls naked,
burned into her as her fingers moved.
She screamed, her back arching, her heart pounding in her chest.
Blue light exploded in her mind, and then another wave washed over
her.
"Oh, God," she moaned.
Without bothering to straighten her clothing, she rolled over on her
side, her hands cradling her cheek. Her scent, strong and musky,
surrounded her. She closed her eyes, and wept.
<---===***===--->
The universe had been more cooperative after her climaxes. She had
no trouble, beyond pure fatigue, in moving down the stairs and out
through the revolving doors.
Each time she needed to expand her bubble, new pressures exerted
upon her nerves, but the sexual energy still was at manageable
levels.
She sat out on the sidewalk, her face tilted up to gather in the
early afternoon sunshine. Despite a deep ache, she felt better, more
in control of her mind.
Dawn didn't understand all that she'd seen -- her foray into the
building almost on the level of a vivid dream -- but she knew that
she needed to continue.
Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet. She swayed for a moment, but
then retraced her steps back to the Buick.
<---===***===--->
It stood like a saviour in the middle of the intersection, a great
rusted chariot to take her on her next journey.
(Where?)
An image of a brunette girl faded into her consciousness. The girl
was naked, tied to a chair, screaming as her breasts were stretched
by a rope leading up through a hook in the ceiling to her bare toes.
She tore her eyes from the image of the girl, concentrating on the
view through the windows. Lakefront. She recognised a few of the
building close by.
And suddenly, the name appeared for her.
"Westin."
She opened the car door, praying that the car would start. The
engine balked, but eventually roared back to life.
(Please don't strand me. Not here.)
She glanced again at the office tower with a shudder. An image of
her lying on the reception floor, forty-two floors up, in front of
the boy, her hands buried under her clothing, writhing, invaded. But
she felt better, now.
She awkwardly turned the big car around, and began to drive towards
the hotel. It wasn't far. Almost close enough to walk.
She didn't quite understand how the name of the hotel had come to
her, but she knew that she had to go there. He was no longer there,
but something important was.
She navigated around a blue Jaguar, and continued slowly up the
cluttered streets. God, she felt better.
Chapter 92
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
His fingers paused before they grasped the doorknob. Below him, the
girls began to walk slowly towards the marble staircase, murmuring
between themselves.
The universe shimmered, and he sensed ripples through the strands of
time that he held in his subconscious control. He closed his eyes,
concentrating on the hazy world of timelines. There were the hazy
shadows of time bubbles below him, Leigh, and Kate, and Monique and
Andrea, all moving slowly through the ether. He stretched farther,
sensing Mark, moving at a snail's pace compared to himself, or the
girls below. And Linda, but her image was more indistinct than the
others, almost as though it were masked, or he was glancing through
a smoky glass. And then she was gone. He blinked quickly, surprised.
Was she gone? And if so, where was she? Did his mind lose control of
her somehow?
He shivered. The blackouts? Were they returning, his mind unable to
hold people over distance? No, he could still sense the girl in the
hot tub, faintly. She wasn't gone -- not exactly.
A short ripple of unease flashed through him, but the girls were
upon him, exclamations of disbelief over the palatial home stretched
out in front of them. The chains jingled on their wrists as they
moved towards him and the massive doors, their restraints seemingly
of secondary concern to them after the new house.
He sighed inwardly, concerned, but not overly. Could be a glitch, he
supposed. Time control wasn't exactly an established science. He
reached forward and twisted the brass knob of the doorway.
<---===***===--->
She couldn't even cover her ears with her hands shackled behind her
back like this. She cringed instead, and took a deep breath. The
sound of the report deafened her for a moment, and she only managed
to keep herself from flight by the certain knowledge of the
punishment that awaited her if he thought she was trying to escape.
She sighed, and waited for the ringing in her eardrums to abate.
"Are you okay, Leigh?" he asked.
She could barely hear him, but she responded anyway.
"It might help, if you were going to shoot something, if you'd let
us have our hands free, or let us move further away."
"Scared of loud noises?"
"Scared of being shot by the ricochet," she said. "And I can't hear
anything, either."
He laughed, and touched her bare shoulder. She didn't flinch. Odd
that she was getting used to his casual touches upon her unprotected
skin. She shrugged inwardly, and trudged towards the suddenly opened
door. The lock hung shattered by the bullet as she passed into a
dimly lit hallway. The marble of the front stoop didn't end under
her bare feet as she stepped carefully over the threshold.
She glanced around, hoping that nobody was home. As far as she could
tell, the house stood empty. The front hallway opened into an
enormous antechamber, all marble. A living room, of sorts, stood to
the left, and what looked like a kitchen and a study opened ahead of
her and to the right. A small pool, silent now, would have babbled
from a small marble statue under the staircase to the right.
Slowly she turned, pulling weakly at her handcuffs. Kate stepped
over the threshold next with a light gasp, followed closely by
Monique, and Andrea, both staring at the palace with equal
amazement. Her captor stepped through the door and closed the door.
Slowly, the door began to shift closed, the shattered lock
ineffective. Idly she wondered about why he would need or want the
door closed. Perhaps simply habit.
His shoes pattered against the marble as he moved in front of the
girls. He motioned for Leigh to approach.
At his direction, she knelt, her bare knees resting against the
smooth surface of the dressed stone. She half-expected him to
present his penis to her, but instead, he merely circled her,
stopping behind. He tugged at her wrists, and Leigh cried out a
little as she was forced forward until her forehead nearly touched
the ground.
In a few moments, her wrists were free, and she gratefully
straightened. She massaged her wrists as he did the same to all the
girls. Finally, they all remained kneeling in the front hall while
he paced towards the kitchen. He glanced into the kitchen, and then
into what looked like the living room.
"Up," he said to Leigh. The rest of the girls remained on their
knees.
Leigh pushed herself to her feet, waiting for his next instructions.
He motioned her forward, and took her hand. She allowed him to
entwine his fingers in hers. It was a surprisingly intimate
gesture, but he wasn't hurting anyone, and that was a blessing. She
followed as he led her through the main floor.
The kitchen looked remarkably well stocked from the few cupboards he
opened. The kitchen led into an enclosed dining room with a long
mahogany table. From there, the living room expanded into an
entertainment facility with big screen television, stereo and
various comfortable looking sofas. The marble switched to lush
carpet beneath her bare toes. She felt odd wandering around in the
stranger's home without clothing, but without choice, she simply
followed where he led her.
They passed the other girls without comment. Kate fell silent as
they passed, but their soft murmurs resumed as he led her to the
main staircase.
Her legs complained as she climbed the main steps, the marble
beneath her feet switching to cool oaken hardwood. She didn't voice
her discomfort with her calves in climbing, almost sure that her
captor must be feeling similar complaints to her own.
At the top, she risked speaking.
"What are we doing?" she asked quietly. He stopped, released her
fingers, and turned towards her.
"Looking for a shower."
"A shower?"
"It's been a long day. I thought that all of you would appreciate a
shower."
She stook stock of herself. After climbing forty-two flights of
stairs, and walking around outside, she suspected that she might be
ripe and dusty. She could certainly believe that she needed another
shower. And the thought of hot water running over her skin sounded
nice.
Slowly, she nodded. "I'd like that." And then she added her plug for
the others. "I'm sure the rest of them would too."
He laughed, touching her cheek. "Don't worry, you'll be partners in
there, when we find it."
Leigh flushed, still somewhat embarrassed that the man could force
her to shower with another naked girl, but it could have been worse.
He might have forced her to shower with him, instead.
He reached for her hand again, and she placed her palm against his.
The first door opened into the bathroom that he had been looking
for. It was unoccupied, and the tub/shower could easily hold four
girls. She hoped that he wouldn't force them all to shower together,
but if he wanted that, she supposed she would do it. Monique might
balk, but in the end they would wash each other as he wanted.
He nodded, and then led her back to the stairs.
<---===***===--->
"I don't have much planned for you for a few hours. I have to
explore this place."
His fingers tightened the handcuffs between Leigh and Kate's wrists.
The girls flinched, but didn't protest the treatment. Monique and
Andrea remained on their knees where he'd left them.
"Leigh knows where the shower is. Have as long a shower as you'd
like. You don't have to wash each other, just enjoy. Keep in mind
that the other girls will want showers, too."
Leigh turned towards him, surprised.
"We can wash ourselves?"
He laughed. "Unless you'd prefer to wash Kate."
Leigh shook her head quickly. "No offence Kate."
The other girl, to whom she was chained, simply laughed.
"I want you clean for dinner."
Leigh's belly rumbled at the mention of food. All the fresh air and
walking seemed to have enhanced her appetite.
Leigh nodded, and began to turn, leading Kate towards the upstairs
bathroom. She turned at the last moment.
"Don't hurt them, okay?" She allowed a pleading tone to enter her
voice.
He laughed, glancing at the two remaining naked girls on the floor
of the hallway.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Leigh cast him a dubious look, but in the end, began to walk towards
the stairs, and the beckoning shower. She didn't protest when
half-way up the stairs, Kate entwined her fingers into hers,
mimicking the grasp that she'd been forced into with the Timeman
earlier. She softly squeezed the other naked girl, and continued up
the stairs in silence.
<---===***===--->
"Come," he said easily. Monique and Andrea pushed themselves to
their feet and followed quietly as he paced into the living room.
Monique's eyes widened at the entertainment set up, but she didn't
say anything. When he turned to face them, the girls stood uneasily
by the doorway.
He dropped the backpack on the carpet, bent and rummaged through it,
finally rising with four pairs of handcuffs in his hands.
Andrea's eyes widened.
He motioned the girls to opposite sofas. Both girls hesitated, eyes
resting on the restraints cradled in his right hand.
"What are you going to go to us?" Andrea asked, almost timidly.
"Nothing that will hurt, I promise."
"Why do you have those, then?"
"The handcuffs?" he said, hefting them as though they were free
weights.
Andrea simply nodded.
The Timeman shrugged, and motioned her towards the sofa again. This
time, Andrea began to move, walking easily across the carpet until
she stood in front of the white seat.
"Sit, unless you feel like spending your time on the floor."
Andrea shook her head, the ponytail visible as her head moved side
to side. Slowly, she lowered her naked body until she sat easily on
the cushions. Monique simply watched quietly from the doorway.
Andrea crossed her legs, and leaned back into the seat with a sigh.
"Better than kneeling on marble," she said lightly.
He stepped forward, and crouched at her feet. Touching her ankle, he
urged her to uncross her legs, and place her bare feet together in
front of her.
"You don't have to do that," Andrea said quietly.
"Do what?" His hands began to wrap the steel around her slender
ankles, the ratchet clicking quietly.
Above, the sound of running water began, with a muffled cry of
surprise or pain. The Timeman ignored the sounds of Leigh and Kate
entering the shower somewhere above.
"Tie me," Andrea said. "I've given you no reason to mistrust me. I
won't go anywhere."
"I know."
"Then why."
"I could tell you that it was because you are still new, and that I
have to take mine, and the other girls, safety into consideration,"
he said. His fingers closed the second cuff around her left ankle.
Andrea pulled gently against the restraints, but didn't succeed in
loosening them. The girl sighed again.
"But that isn't it, is it?"
He rose, and sat beside her, his weight shifting the sofa slightly.
With a touch of his fingers, she shifted her wrists behind her, and
held them there.
"Not really. I don't think you, or Monique, is really a danger to
me."
"Not if you can do what they say you can."
"I can."
"Then why? Why put handcuffs on me? Tie me up? You know that we
don't want to be tied up all the time, don't you?"
He laughed. "Of course not, Andrea. But it simply doesn't much
matter what you want, does it? Really?"
The girl shook her head. "Why hurt us all the time?"
His answer was maddeningly simple. "Because I can."
Andrea sighed as he closed the last ratchet. The handcuffs didn't
bite into her skin, but the girl would know that she was bound.
She stared at him for a moment, a naked girl reclaiming a little of
her dignity.
"You have control issues, don't you?"
He laughed, and rose to his feet, leaving her sitting helplessly on
the sofa.
"Your textbooks help you with that diagnosis?"
Andrea looked down, studying her bare thighs for a moment.
"Not really. I think you just enjoy tormenting women. You like us
naked, and you like us helpless."
He laughed again, and stepped towards Monique who was watching with
undisguised interest. Without protest, she allowed him to guide her
to the opposite sofa, and place the handcuffs about her wrists and
ankles, a mirror image of Andrea. The girls faced each other across
the small table between the sofas.
He stopped to survey the bound girls before leaving the room. Andrea
stopped him before he left.
"We've been cooperative, haven't we?"
He nodded slowly. Andrea tried to shift her weight awkwardly, wasn't
very successful. She twisted to look at him.
"Can we watch television?"
He laughing gently. "I would let you, Andrea, but I'll bet that the
networks are off the air."
Andrea flushed, obviously she hadn't considered that. Instead of
answering, she turned towards Monique and shrugged.
"I guess we get to know one another, then." She turned back towards
the doorway where he stood smiling. "How long are you intending to
leave us here?"
"Until Leigh and Kate are done in the bathroom. Then you two can
shower."
Andrea nodded, and he turned away a little reluctantly. He would
have liked to listen to them talk for a while, but there was
exploring to do. And a nagging sensation in his belly told him that
he wasn't particularly going to like what he found.
With a sigh, he took a lingering glance at the two naked, handcuffed
girls quietly talking, and then began to wearily climb the stairs
towards the second floor and the bathroom.
Chapter 93
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The girls didn't try to cover up, or even look embarrassed as he
poked his head into the bathroom. Clear glass separated Kate and
Leigh from him, but the steam from the shower billowed from the
shower head as the water cascaded over their bare skin.
Leigh offered a puzzled glance, but waved with her free hand. Kate
was using her free hand to rub soap into Leigh's bare back. The
redhead looked up, looking a little like a drowned rabbit, her hair
plastered to her forehead.
"Come to join us?" Kate called, almost carelessly.
Leigh paled a little at the suggestion, but Kate didn't seem
concerned one way or the other. He shook his head, and the girls
ignored him, continuing to wash one another.
"You both know not to climax in there, right?"
Leigh flushed, almost as if she'd been considering just that, but
she shook her head, water flying from her brunette hair.
"Of course not," she said. "What do you think we are? Sex maniacs?"
"After the day you've had, I'd be surprised if you weren't."
Leigh flushed again, her face broadcasting the truth of his
statement.
"When you're done, don't leave the bathroom. Just call."
His sixth sense was ringing in his head, and though he didn't think
it had to do with the disappearance of Linda, he did sense something
not quite right about the house. Nothing could hurt them here, he
knew, not with the timelines and his control of them, but something
was wrong with the house, like it was haunted with past sins.
"Okay," Kate called out. The girl moaned, as she began to wash her
bare breasts. He watched the redhead for a moment, unsure if her
display was for his benefit or not. Either way, he reacted, and
there was precious little at the moment, that he was willing to do
about it.
He retreated, and closed the door to the bathroom.
He turned to the right, and began to walk towards the first closed
door of the hallway.
<---===***===--->
The room was large, a big four poster bed dominating the decor.
Nobody was in the room, though the bed looked used, not pristine
like the rest of the house.
He stepped forward, confused. Something didn't ring right about the
room. Something.
Slowly he turned at the foot of the bed. There was nothing on the
walls -- no pictures, no paintings, no mirrors. There wasn't a
picture on any of the dressers, or desk.
It wouldn't be odd, if this was a man's room, but the bed looked
distinctly feminine. He sighed. It wasn't as if he were counting on
a woman being in the house to play with, but it was always ... fun
... to discover such.
He was about to turn from the room, explore further when a mark upon
the bed caught his eye. Bending, he unfroze the covers, inspecting a
red patch upon the bedspread.
He touched the redness, his finger rising sticky and crimson.
He didn't need to taste it, or smell it. He knew what it was.
Blood. Not much, not enough to indicate murder, but enough for him
to be uneasy.
He wiped the sticky fluid onto a clean section of coverlet, and then
straightened. He whirled, expecting to see an axe wielding maniac,
even though such things were nigh impossible here. Even so, his
heart skipped a beat at the shadows in the corners of the room.
Quickly, he stepped out of the room, and closed the door with a
click. Down the hallway, the water continued to run, with his
captives safely washing themselves beyond the closed door.
<---===***===--->
He closed his eyes when he saw the girl, his head shaking and his
body dumping adrenaline into his bloodstream.
"Why? Why does this always happen to me?" he whispered to the
uncaring room. Slowly, he approached the two figures, one standing,
his hands fumbling with his zipper, the other kneeling before him,
hands behind her back, mouth open as if to accept him. The girl's
bare breasts were small, poking out from behind the ruined fabric of
her blouse. A nasty bruise seemed to be forming under her right eye,
an expression of pain, and perhaps disbelief, graced her features.
The girl's eyes showed shock and distress, but she knelt in front of
the man, her mouth open as if in an expression of surprise.
Somewhere in the depths of those eyes lay a resigned acceptance. It
was the look of a girl that had been pushed beyond her threshold of
individuality -- it was the look that he'd seen on other girls,
girls that he'd pushed too hard upon occasion; it was the look that
might appear on Monique's or Andrea's face if he whipped either girl
until she could no longer scream.
He swallowed, and fought the nausea that threatened to encroach.
He circled them shaking his head. There was no doubt about what this
was. The girl bore far too much of a resemblance to the man towering
above her -- he was either her father, or a close relative. As he
passed behind the kneeling girl, he noted the drips of crimson
lazily tracing down her pale hands from her bound wrists, down her
fingers to drop in small puddles near her bare toes. A small cut,
perhaps enough to stain a bed sheet, trickled more of her blood down
the right side of her pretty face from the corner of her gaping
mouth.
He crouched beside the frozen girl, and finally sank until he sat on
the floor, nearly beside her. The man towered above them.
After a moment, he raised his head, eyes flashing in anger. The
look faded shortly, and he wearily pushed himself to his feet.
Kate or Leigh. Which?
He didn't know, even as he made his way from the suffering girl's
bedroom and mounting rape towards the bathroom.
<---===***===--->
He was a little calmer as he stepped into the steamy bathroom. The
girls both stood, sharing the spray, faces uptilted, enjoying the
heat and steam. Their skin shone in the way that only female skin
can after a deep scrubbing.
Leigh glanced over, her eyes widening for a moment before she
returned to the spray without comment. The girl seemed to grudgingly
accept that she had lost her privacy.
With a sigh, he opened the glass door leading into the shower. A
great cloud of steam billowed from the enclosure into the bathroom.
"Coming to join us?" Kate said cheerily without turning her face
from the water.
"Not exactly."
Kate turned her face from the spray, wiping the drops of water from
her eyes with her free hand.
"It's not time for us to get out of here, is it?" Her eyes begged to
be permitted a little more time under the lushness of the shower.
"Afraid so."
The girl noticed the look of gravity upon his features. A shadow of
apprehension flashed across her pretty features.
"What's wrong? You aren't going to hurt us more are you?"
Instead of answering, he merely motioned the redhead forward. Kate,
without hesitation, stepped forward, turning Leigh by their
connected wrists as she did so. Leigh reluctantly twisted the shower
control and the spray of water ceased to a steady stream of drips
from above.
"What's wrong?" Leigh asked.
He sighed. In time, they would all know, he supposed.
"I just need Kate," he said, making a decision on the spur of the
moment. Kate had been the first girl he'd kept, and she was adept at
comfort. Leigh would have provided as well, but he needed the
brunette for a different task.
"What are you going to do to me?"
"Do?"
He shook his head, producing the small silver key to the girls'
handcuffs. He released the chain that stretched between their
wrists, and stepped aside, motioning Kate from the confines of the
shower. He touched Leigh's shoulder when the brunette attempted to
follow. Leigh looked confused for a moment, but then settled back to
the centre of the shower over the drain. She wrapped her arms about
her bare breasts, and shivered.
"You can continue to shower, Leigh." He held out the keys to the
handcuffs. "When you're done, I want you to dry off, and go
downstairs. Monique and Andrea are downstairs on the sofas, you'll
find them. Let them out of their handcuffs, then handcuff their
wrists, like I did with you and Kate. Tell them to shower, and watch
them. Make sure that they wash each other."
Leigh looked bewildered. "Why? Isn't this something you should be
doing?"
He allowed a downcast look to enter his face for a moment, but then
forced it from his expression. "Normally."
"Why me?"
"Because you don't mind being in charge."
Leigh flushed for a moment, as if she were unaware of his knowledge
of her preferences, and embarrassed that Kate might know. Slowly,
she nodded, but her mind appeared to understand more than she was
revealing.
"What's wrong? What did you find after you left us?"
He shrugged.
"Are we in danger?" Leigh asked quietly.
He shook his head. "No, Leigh. You aren't in any physical danger.
At least not more than is normal here."
Without much choice, Leigh nodded carefully, reaching back towards
the shower control. Slowly, he shut the door before the girl
returned to the warm spray.
He strode to the door, picking up two forest green towels from near
the doorway. He held one out to Kate as he approached her.
The girl stood naked, dripping and shivering, her arms wrapped
around her body. A small puddle of water had formed against the tile
where she stood. She accepted the offered towel, but didn't
immediately begin to dry herself. He moved behind the girl, and
tossed the other towel over her head, and began to dry her hair.
Kate stood still, allowing him to rub her hair, until he finally
stepped away.
"There's something wrong, isn't there?" the girl said as she pulled
the towel off her head. Drips of water still slowly rolled down her
bare skin. A single drop of water hung from her erect left nipple.
"Yes, Kate."
The girl nodded, and began to rub the towel over her skin, beginning
with her shoulders and moving down until most of the dampness had
been absorbed right down to her bare toes.
At last, she straightened, folded the towel and placed it on the
counter. She looked up, her eyes worried.
The Timeman picked up a comb that lay on the counter top, and
stepped behind Kate.
"I can do that," Kate said quietly. Her hands rose to the back of
her head, grasping at the comb.
"Hands down, or I'll cuff them behind your back," he said. The girl
complied without further comment, holding her hands lightly at her
thighs.
Slowly, he ran the comb through her wet hair, leaving it straight
and falling across her bare shoulders. Kate sighed, only cringing
when he had to work out a knot. Leigh ignored the two of them,
enjoying her solitary shower.
After he had run the comb through her hair until it shone, he
released her, and placed the comb beside the towel on the counter
top. She turned to face him, making no attempt at covering her
nudity.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Normally, I would dry my hair. Would you like to dry it for me,
too?" The girl maintained a touch of impishness in her glowing
features.
Slowly, he shook his head.
"We have to go. I'll let you dry it later, if it still needs it."
"If it goes frizzy, I don't want complaints." And then, more
hesitantly, "I don't want to be punished ..."
He tried to smile, couldn't. Instead, he touched her bare shoulder.
It was damp from stray drops from her hair. She hesitated, and he
thought he might have to force the girl to turn.
"Where are we going?" she whispered as she finally turned and began
to step towards the door. She stole a glance at Leigh, who still
stood beneath the hot spray, partially obscured by the steam.
"Somewhere that you and I don't want to go," he said wearily.
He followed Kate until they stepped into the relative coolness of
the dim hallway.
Chapter 94
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Kate could hear two soft murmurs from somewhere below and down the
stairs. The water from the shower abruptly turned off behind her,
and she jumped a little. She strained her ears through the eerie
silence of the world, but those were the only two sounds that she
could hear.
The air in the hallway was cooler, and drier, than the humid summer
air in the bathroom. The atmosphere almost felt alive and fresh
against her bare scrubbed skin.
Slowly, she turned and watched as her captor emerged from the
bathroom, slowly closing the door. Suddenly a deep dread infused
her, and shivers rippled through her body.
He was watching her, but as always, not her nudity as much as her
face. In a way, it was comforting, and in others it was damn
frustrating. She ached to touch herself, or have someone else touch
her -- the probing hands of Leigh in the shower had been only a
tease for what she really wanted. If she hadn't feared his
punishment had she been caught, she might have brought herself to
climax right there in the shower, handcuffed to Leigh. But she
hadn't dared, because it wouldn't have been her that would have
faced his reprisals. He probably would have whipped the skin from
Leigh, while she remained cuffed to the girl. And so she hadn't
touched herself, and that, perhaps most of all, bothered her. She
didn't even have the freedom to touch herself.
Her thoughts returned to whatever task he had decided that they
needed to do. She shifted her weight from bare foot to bare foot,
fighting the unease that threatened to spook her into an ill advised
flight. Actually, he didn't look all that enthused to be leading her
on the task either.
"Are you going to hurt me? I haven't done anything to deserve
punishment." Her breasts throbbed a little, almost inviting her
to request rough treatment. She pushed the sensations away,
though something deep inside of her told her that being
whipped might be easier than whatever it was he wanted from her. If
he was disquieted, there was something seriously wrong in the world.
Grimly, he shook his head, and reached out to grasp her elbow. She
wanted to shy away from his touch, but in the end, she allowed him
to guide her slowly down the hallway. As her feet shuffled over the
unforgiving hardwood of the hallway, she couldn't help but picture
herself, handcuffed, naked, hooded, being led to her executioner.
She shook herself, and massaged her free wrists. He wasn't taking
her to kill her, that much she was certain of. She was far more
valuable to him alive than dead. Why, she didn't quite understand,
but of it, she was certain.
They stood outside the first doorway.
"In there?" she whispered.
His voice came in a small waver, but only because she was somewhat
used to his unerring confidence, did she hear it.
"No, but we need to prepare," he said quietly.
"For what? To hurt me? To hurt someone else?" Her voice came
accusingly, bouncing off the closed door in front of her. "I won't
help you hurt someone else. You can whip me as much as you like --
I'll even let you -- but I won't hurt anyone else."
His words came with a bit of regret, and anger, chilling her. Her
breasts ached as he spoke.
"Dammit, Kate, I'm not going to hurt you, or anyone else. Christ,
girl, this is about not hurting her."
It took Kate a moment to recover, but when she turned, he was
shaking. If she didn't know better, then she would have thought he
was near tears. Her first instinct was to embrace him, but his
stance didn't invite that, and so she stood awkwardly, her fingers
grasping at the air.
"Who?" she asked.
Instead of answering her, he roughly pushed her shoulder, spinning
her. Automatically, she reached for the doorknob, and before her
body could stop her with another bout of unease, she stepped into
the relative brightness of a spartan bedroom.
<---===***===--->
Her fingers tugged at the sheets, and she stared in wonder at her
clean fingertips that emerged coated in a thin crimson. She
recoiled, stepping away from the bed that she was stripping like a
common, but naked, maid. Slowly, she turned towards him, where he
stood quietly, arms crossed, by the frame of the entrance to the
small room. She held up her tainted fingers.
"You killed whoever lives here, you shit." Her voice emerged only a
little above a whisper. He slowly shook his head, a strange
expression upon his face. "She's hurt somewhere. How? How could you
... I thought ..."
She swallowed heavily. Even though he didn't answer her charges, she
honestly didn't believe that he would hurt anyone to the point of
putting their lives in danger. Yes, he played with guns, and he
could hurt a girl badly, if she balked enough. But so far, he
hadn't even really touched any of the girls, and beyond the
discomfort of restraints, and forcing them to climb stairs, and the
odd spanking, he had never drawn blood. She doubted if he really
wanted to draw blood, though she was sure he was capable of it if
thwarted enough. In fact, he'd punished Darren for even thinking
about hurting Karen in that way. At the thought of Karen, she ached
a little. The girl was safe again, as if this world didn't exist. It
didn't for her. But he would whip a girl, happily. A whip, at least
to her, was far different than wielding a knife against helpless
skin.
"Just strip the bed, Kate," he murmured.
She stared at him for a moment, then turned her attention back to
the soiled sheets in front of her. She avoided touching the red
stain, but carefully removed the sheets from the bed and placed them
on the floor near the small closet.
When she was done, she straightened and walked until she stood a
metre in front of him. She placed her hands on her hips.
"Was it an accident? Does she need help?"
"Who?"
"The girl you hurt in here?"
He sighed.
"I didn't hurt anyone, yet," he said simply, though his attitude and
words said that if she weren't careful, she might yet feel the sting
of his crop. "But it wasn't an accident, and I think she needs
help."
The words confused her, and she was about to challenge him further,
when he continued to speak.
"Do I need to cuff you? Or will you come?" He beckoned to her,
stepping out of the small bedroom.
"I won't hurt anyone for you," she said quietly.
"I don't want you to, Kate. I don't want you to."
With a sigh, Kate followed him into the hallway, allowing her hands
to fall from her bare hips. She glanced back. The spot of blood upon
the sheets winked at her from where the fabric lay near the closed
closet door.
<---===***===--->
"I don't want to go in there, do I?" Kate whispered.
She stood in front of him, facing the broad, undecorated expanse of
a doorway. The door mocked her. She wanted to see through it, wanted
to know what she would find beyond before she was forced to step
over the damning threshold. She'd seen enough suffering, between
her own experiences and those of her sisters in captivity. At least
her hands weren't bound to face the unknown. She was somewhat
surprised that she was as free as she was. Restraints had almost
become a way of life for her, and she felt even more naked without
the bands of steel holding her wrists.
Slowly, she turned to face him. He seemed as reluctant as she to
enter the room.
"What's in there?" she asked quietly.
He seemed unwilling to answer her, or perhaps unable. In contrast
to their indecision, Leigh's voice rose in soft song, singing an old
Elton John tune, from where she was undoubted drying herself in the
bathroom. Kate earnestly wished that he'd chosen Leigh to accompany
him on this trip, instead of her. Leigh was more ... stable ... in
the face of these situations. The sound of a hair drier punctured
the still air of the hallway through the bathroom door.
"What's in there?" Kate asked.
He shook his head in response, and reached past Kate to turn the
doorknob. She heard the door opening, didn't want to turn around to
see. Dread spread through her skin like a wave upon the ocean.
"Please," she whispered.
"We have to help her," he said quietly.
<---===***===--->
The scene imprinted itself upon her eyes like a sharp slap across
the face. The situation unfolding captured in the mists of time
rocked her backwards until she fell into the solidity of his form.
Almost tenderly, his arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind,
his fingertips brushing at the tops of her bare breasts. Kate didn't
notice those sensations though, her eyes wide and almost
disbelieving.
Within a fraction of a second, the individual components of the
scene flowed into her mind -- the girl kneeling, mouth open, bruises
kissing her soft skin, so resembling the man towering over her,
lowering his zipper.
"No," Kate whispered.
Gently, he pushed her inside, and her feet balked, but inexorably
she walked inside the bedroom of horror. Kate twisted from his
grasp; the trepidation fled. She ran lightly to where the girl
knelt. She couldn't help the tears that involuntarily traced down
her cheeks.
Tentatively, she reached forward, tracing her fingertip along the
frozen bruise forming under the girl's right eye. Almost to
herself, she whispered: "No, no, no." Even the cold, dead feel of
the girl's flesh didn't dissuade her from touching her cheek.
Slowly, Kate pushed herself to her feet. The Timeman stood halfway
between the bed and where Kate had risen. Despite her anger, she
examined the man's frozen form, but didn't touch him.
"How can anyone ..." Kate said quietly, turning to face her own
captor.
The Timeman shook his head, looking pale.
"We have to help her," Kate said quietly. A wave of nausea engulfed
her as she pictured herself in the place of the girl.
The Timeman shook his head slowly. "The kindest thing we could do
would be to leave her alone." He slowly walked back to the girl's
small bed where stuffed animals sat a lonely vigil. His weight
dimpled the bed, and one of the animals fell unheeded to the floor.
"Leave her? Like this? That's probably her father."
"I know," the Timeman said quietly.
"Why did you bring me in here if you were only going to let her be
raped anyway?"
"I can't prevent that, Kate."
"Can't? Or won't?"
The Timeman sighed. "It's the Judge all over again."
"Judge?"
"Never mind. What I mean is, that I have to eventually let all of
you go. If I were to free the girl, it would only be temporary.
She'd return here to face what she has to face."
Kate inhaled sharply, but didn't respond.
(Eventually let me go, too?)
(What did you think, girl? That he could keep you in chains forever?)
"Can't we help her at all?"
He pursed his lips. "I'm the only one here that will remember."
"She's suffering."
"Outside of this timeline," he elaborated.
The knowledge hit her like a brick. Her own suffering, her own pain,
her own self-discovery, it was all temporary. Somewhere she knew
that -- it kept her going, gave her courage. It would all be over,
and she'd return to her own time, unsullied, untainted by this man's
hand. Her life would return to normal. She could almost accept her
treatment here as an opportunity. Not one she would have chosen, but
one that she could perhaps understand. This girl, whoever she was,
didn't have those options. She was in this for real -- raped, and
tortured for a sick mind's pleasure. No reprieve. No blessed
ignorance after it was all over. It would never be over for the
kneeling girl.
Kate turned to stare at her, eventually dropping to her own knees in
front of the girl.
"Give her freedom. Please?"
Kate twisted to capture the Timeman's eyes with her own. Tears still
dripped silently down her cheek unchecked.
"Freedom?"
"Compared to what she's facing here, you are freedom. Even if you
made her into a sex slave -- you aren't her father, and you ... are
kind in your own way."
He seemed surprised by her entreaty, slowly climbing to his feet. He
approached Kate, eventually crouching beside her.
"I've been through this before," he said.
"Deja vu?"
He shook his head. The motion made Kate shiver; she knew enough that
she didn't want to know the circumstances behind where he'd been
faced with this before.
"She deserves freedom, at least for a while. Please? I'll do
whatever it is you want."
Slowly, he pushed himself back to his feet and returned to the bed.
It squeaked in protest as he settled to the mattress. He lay back,
his hands entwined behind his head.
"If we do this, we do it all the way," he said to the ceiling.
Kate had no idea what that meant, but she didn't really care. She
turned back towards the girl, gazing into her tortured blue eyes.
Her heart nearly broke at the torn buttons on the girl's blouse and
her hopeful expression with her mouth open waiting for her torment
to be over. Tears began again.
She heard the Timeman shift behind her somewhere, and her heart
began to hammer in her chest. A thought raced through her mind.
(I shouldn't be naked. I shouldn't be naked. She'll be more
frightened ...)
But Kate never had a chance to voice it.
Chapter 95
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Dawn let her head fall wearily to the steering wheel of the Buick.
Without looking, her fingers switched off the engine. The car
refused to die for a moment, dieselling.
"Stop, dammit," she whispered, and the car obeyed, the silence of
the world pressing into her like the emptiness of outer space.
The Buick had settled into the same double parked position that Kate
had chosen for the Toyota. Slowly, Dawn pushed open the car's door,
her body aching, and her mind spinning.
She walked around the front of the car, until she stood on the
sidewalk. A pretty girl of about nineteen with a low cut blouse
strode by oblivious to her. A doorman, inside, stared at the girl.
Dawn looked up. The Westin towered above her, mocking her.
How far up had they been? Her thighs screamed at her, protesting the
thoughts. She wasn't sure how many more flights of stairs she could
climb and doors she could open without rest.
She collided with the glass entrance door, banging her shoulder
against the unyielding glass. Tears of pain and frustration sprang
into her eyes, and she slowly lowered herself to the concrete, legs
tucked under her.
She sat there a long time, weeping into her hands under the steady
dead gaze of the doorman, and the oblivious girl.
<---===***===--->
Dawn's body tingled again -- not as badly as in the law firm, but
strongly enough that she was having trouble ignoring it. Her
breasts cried out for the whisper of a touch, and her clitoris sang
for attention. She willed away the sensations, but she knew that if
she had to continue to manipulate the timeline to free doors, or
overcome obstructions, it would become harder and harder to ignore
her raging hormonal response.
She leaned heavily against the polished granite of the reception
desk. A girl stood behind, her frozen hands busy with some paper or
a computer below. How much easier it would be to simply ask her if
she'd seen a time manipulating maniac, leading two naked girls
around on leashes.
The vision caught her by surprise: the girl in front of her, Rachel,
stripping, crying, climbing over the counter naked, standing in
front of the Timeman. Kate and Leigh stood watching, still barefoot
and naked, collars and leashes gracing their throats like pets.
Rachel picked up a backpack from where Kate was standing, and,
flushed, she began to walk towards a door by the elevators.
Dawn tried to call out, wanting desperately to know where they were
going, why Rachel had been released, how he'd made the girl strip
for him. But no sound emerged from her throat, and the only people
moving in the world disappeared through the doorway.
She returned to reality with a gasp and a cry. She sat curled up on
the marble below the counter, her breasts and vagina aching. She
snatched her hand from between her legs, and wearily pushed herself
to her feet.
For a while, she stared at Rachel, closing her eyes. She knew what
the girl looked like naked, had seen her bare breasts as she'd been
forced to strip. Despite the raging hormonal imbalance, Dawn pressed
her time bubble towards the girl. It extended nearly effortlessly,
but balked as it began to intersect with the girl's skin. Crying out
in desire and pain, Dawn pushed the bubble again. For a moment, it
held, and Rachel seemed to move, but only a hairbreadth. As Dawn
lost her tenuous grip, the bubble snapped back with enough force to
drive Dawn three steps backwards with a cry of surprised pain.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she lowered her hands to her side. Her
body ached, both in pure tiredness, and in desire for climax.
(No. No. No.)
(One damn question is all I wanted. Please.)
The universe continued to defy her desires, and Dawn wearily stepped
towards the doorway leading to the stair. She didn't even know,
if she had succeeded in waking Rachel, whether or not the
girl could have helped her find the Timeman.
(Why me?)
The universe refused to answer the girl, and with another sharp stab
of desire, the doorway swung open under her touch.
<---===***===--->
She could sense them if she really tried. Oh, the Timeman and his
immediate girls were bright enough, and Dawn consciously avoided
approaching those glowing, spinning, tennis balls. Soon, she
thought, but not now.
No, there were dimmer balls turning very slowly, almost
imperceptibly spinning. Close, and upwards. She didn't understand,
but after a few false starts, and a million curses -- each corridor
entrance had a closed door that drove needles of desire into her
core -- she opened the tenth floor doorway with a cry, and saw Mark.
<---===***===--->
He stood awkwardly, his hand raised as if he were banging on the
hotel room door. It was enough to capture Dawn's attention, and
carefully she stepped down the worn carpet of the corridor until she
stood beside him.
The Bridal Suite, the doorway proclaimed in blue letters.
There was no doubt about it, this man corresponded to one of the
spinning balls in the murky, hazy time space that she could somehow
sense. She'd always known that the tennis balls were people, but
somehow, the validation, the superimposing of a real figure with
that ball made her grin wildly.
Dawn studied the man, unsure of his role, and why his ball was
spinning ever slowly whereas everyone else stood completely silent.
On the surface, she could see no difference here. He was as dead and
still as everyone else that she'd ever met since the classroom an
eternity ago.
Not wanting to waste a valuable attempt on the man, she turned her
attention to the door. The Bridal Suite. Figured.
Beyond the door she could sense another spinning ball, as slow as
this man's. She wanted to rest before she attempted to enter the
hotel room, and she crossed the hallway, settling across from the
man pounding on the room door.
She lowered her face into her hands, and waited for some of the
energy in her to dissipate.
<---===***===--->
When she approached the door again, she noticed that it stood
unlatched. The small crack was nowhere near wide enough to permit
her access without freeing the door from the timelines, but at least
she wouldn't require a key. She doubted if she would have been able
to open the door otherwise. She would have been forced to descend,
and somehow figure out which key, perhaps that one in Rachel's
hands, led into the Bridal Suite. But the door stood slightly ajar,
and she should be able to push it open, with some effort.
With a small cry, she pushed the door with her fingers while
simultaneously freeing it from its timeline. It swung open with a
small creak.
She shivered as she twisted past the frozen man before the door, her
breasts dragging against his hard form. With a sense of relief, she
stepped across the threshold and entered the Bridal Suite.
<---===***===--->
A discarded pair of handcuffs lay like an omen on the entrance tile
to the room. Dawn stepped over them, avoiding them as if they were
something vile. A chair stood sentry in the middle of the room; a
hook gleamed in the ceiling above the chair.
Dawn shivered, picturing herself standing on the chair, a hangman's
noose about her throat. She turned towards the doorway, and, in
doing so, lost her tenuous time grip on it. It snapped shut again
with not a sound.
With a sigh, she paced forward, stepping around the chair, ignoring
it. As she passed it, a washed-out vision of Monique tied nakedly
into it shuddered through Dawn's mind. She gasped as the vision fled
her, before solidifying.
The second slowly spinning ball lay in the hot tub. Dawn blinked. A
young woman lay luxuriating in the tub, only her head and one hand
visible above the bubbles.
Dawn settled on the steps to the tub. She closed her eyes for a
moment. When she'd reopened her eyes, she knew what she needed to do
-- or at least what she needed to try to do.
Chapter 96
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
It was surprisingly simple, though the tingles raced through her
nerves as if she'd touched an electrical wire. Dawn moaned and
slipped down from her perch on the step, her hands outstretched to
catch herself. She heard movement above her, and she desperately
fought her impulse to slip her hands beneath her clothing.
(Not here. Not while she's awake. Please.)
Wearily, Dawn looked up, and her eyes met the brown eyes of the
woman, suddenly awakened from her prison in time. The girl screamed;
it was a piercing shriek that echoed through the room, and rattled
Dawn's aching head. Somewhere deep inside, she could feel the
brunette girl as she rose to her feet, soap bubbles and water
splashing wetly around Dawn's prone form.
"Stay the fuck away from me!" the girl yelled, her eyes fearful like
a kitten that had been kicked too often. The girl backed up through
the water until her bare back pressed soapy bubbles to the bay
window behind her.
Dawn straightened slowly, her hands outstretched.
"I'm not here to hurt you. Please, I haven't spoken to anyone in two
days," Dawn whispered.
The girl fixed her frightened gaze on Dawn, who pushed herself to
her knees, but no further. "You're with him -- where is he? Please
just leave me alone. Please?"
"Whatever you think, I'm not with him, I don't even know who he is."
"You aren't one of his slaves? His toys?"
Bewildered, Dawn shook her head.
The girl looked wildly left and then right, water spraying lightly
almost like a dog shaking herself free of moisture after a swim in a
river. When nobody appeared to threaten her, the girl settled her
bare body to the edge of the tub. She moved her legs through the
bubbles. She seemed unconcerned about her nudity.
"My name is Dawn," Dawn said, rising slightly. "Who are you?"
The girl looked at her with suspicious eyes. "You already know."
"How could I know?"
"Didn't he tell you? Didn't he send you to torment me? I'm not going
to fight you, you know. You can do whatever you want to me. Just
don't hurt Mark, okay?"
"Mark?"
The girl pointed towards the closed entrance door. "You know who
Mark is, too. Why are you doing this to me?"
Dawn sighed and pushed herself to her feet and stumbled to one of
the two sofa, settling there to watch the girl.
"I really don't know what you are talking about."
"He was just here, not even a moment ago." The girl looked around
again in a panic. "And then you were. Where did he go?" She looked
at Dawn suspiciously, as if she were expecting Dawn to transmorph
into the Timeman before her very eyes.
"I don't know; he's been gone a while. He wasn't here when I
arrived."
The girl seemed to come to a conclusion, and resignedly stood up and
stepped from the tub. Water cascaded down her bare skin, and puddled
at her feet against the tiles.
Shyly, she stuck out her hand. "Even if you are here to hurt me,
there isn't much I can do about it," she said evenly. "You may as
well know who you are torturing. I'm Linda."
Dawn rose with a faint smile and took the naked girl's hand. It was
damp and a few bubbles graced the soft skin there.
"Dawn. And honestly, I'm not here to hurt you."
The girl sighed, as if she didn't believe a word of it, but then
found a smile. Hope radiated from her face.
"You're not going to hurt me?"
Dawn shook her head. "I don't know what you've been through, but I'd
like to know."
Linda shivered, wrapping her arms across her body. Dawn noticed, and
spoke further. The girl shook her head as if denying that Dawn might
want to know the trials that she'd suffered.
"Why don't you get dressed, and then we can talk?"
The girl simply shook her head, then bowed her head. For a moment,
Dawn thought the girl would sink to her knees.
"I can't."
"Can't?"
"Can't get dressed."
"Why?"
"He wouldn't like it. I. I can't get punished again. I'll die."
"He punished you for dressing?"
The girl nodded, obvious fear gracing her features. Dawn nodded, and
turned away. She paced through the small suite until she located the
bathroom and grabbed one of the white bath towels that hotels
provide. She held it out to Linda, who hesitated.
"He's not here Linda. Honestly. Nobody is going to hurt you. At
least dry yourself so that you're not so cold."
The girl glanced around, but almost shyly took the towel and
proceeded to wipe most of the moisture from her skin. Dawn collapsed
into the sofa again, and fought the tingles that the bare skin, even
female, brought to her senses. Dawn sighed as Linda, with a final
glance around the room, wrapped the towel around her body and then
settled into the sofa opposite, tucking her bare legs up and under
herself.
"If he's not here, where is he, then?"
"I don't know, Linda. I don't know."
<---===***===--->
The girl's descriptions of sex, and her torment, sent shivers down
Dawn's spine. All because the girl had the temerity to dress, and
try to save the man outside. She'd been tortured, and broken.
Somewhere, through the haze of timelines, she sensed his tennis
ball, spinning lazily but brightly somewhere safely to the north.
And while she was nearly shocked by what he'd done to the girl, she
couldn't quite hate him for it. If he was suffering the same sexual
frustrations that she was by manipulating the timelines, then he
might not be in control of what he did anymore than she was when she
needed to satisfy her sexual impulses before she could open a door.
"You must control time, then, too?"
Dawn looked up sharply. "I'm not as good as he is. He's had more
practice."
"You freed me?"
"Normally, I can't free anyone, but you were easier. I don't know
why."
Linda stared at the ceiling for a moment. "I talked to Kate and
Leigh not long ago."
Probably half a day or more, Dawn thought. Though for the girl, Dawn
had probably appeared the moment that the Timeman had disappeared.
Thus her confusion. Dawn really couldn't blame the girl. Slipping in
and out of time had to be disorienting.
Linda continued to speak. "They said that when he releases a girl,
she returns to her former position. I wasn't. He forced me to lie in
the tub, but he didn't release me. Not from this place. I'd forget,
wouldn't I?"
Linda's words didn't make full sense to Dawn, but she listened
intently. Linda's eyes lit up, remembering some private detail that
perhaps Leigh or Kate had mentioned to her.
"He can slow time."
"Slow time?"
"Slow time down locally. Like around me. He didn't return me, only
slowed me down to a crawl. Maybe that's why you could free me, and
nobody else." An idea lit Linda's face. "Mark!"
"Mark?"
"You could free Mark. If you could free me, you could free Mark for
me. Please?"
"Linda ..."
The girl slipped the towel from her body and slowly knelt naked at
the base of the sofa.
"Please? I'll do whatever it is you want."
Dawn sighed, and then anger flashed through her. The girl's posture
stirred up too many sexual fantasies, and she didn't have the will
to push them aside.
"Get up!"
Linda looked up sharply, but immediately pushed herself until she
stood shivering on her bare feet.
"Linda," Dawn said more gently, "I'm not here as some kind of sex
fiend. I'm not the Timeman, I swear." Her own words struck tingles
down her nerves. Her hands shook. Worse, she wasn't even sure if she
believed herself. "I don't want or need to hurt you. Sit down,
please, and at least put the towel back on."
Linda swallowed, but obeyed, wrapping the towel around her bare
breasts and settling back into the sofa.
"Will you try? Please?"
Dawn stared at the ceiling, and then fought down the blush. She
closed her eyes, and spoke towards the ceiling, not directly to
Linda.
"Linda, every time I free something, every time I have to open a
door, or pick up a book, or free a person from the timelines, it ...
affects me."
Linda cocked her head to the side, a puzzled look on her face.
"It boosts my estrogen level or something. Maybe my chemistry is
compensating, maybe hormone levels have to rise to let me manipulate
time. I just don't know. But I do know what it does to me, and I
hate it. It gets so I can't think of anything but sex, and then I
can't concentrate enough to even open a damn door." Dawn swallowed
heavily. "Even the sight of you, right now, is driving me nuts.
Sexually. I'm sorry. I'm not even homosexual. I swear it."
Linda flushed for a moment, but then recovered.
"What do you need? Do you want me to ... um ... have sex with you?
Will that help?"
"You'd have sex with me?"
"Dawn, I've been tied into chairs naked, with naked girls all
around, licking me. No, I don't care anymore. I just want Mark
back."
Dawn sighed, considered it. She wanted Linda's fingers, her soft
tongue even if she was a girl. Hormones pounded through her. She
felt like she could have a million climaxes without tiring. Slowly,
she shook her head.
"I'll try, even if I have to masturbate for an hour afterward, but
you don't need to ... help."
Linda flushed, but nodded.
"Thank you," she whispered.
<---===***===--->
Dawn stood in front of Mark. He was handsome, in his own way, not
someone she'd choose immediately off the street, but handsome
enough. Linda stood a pace behind, nervously shifting her weight
from bare foot to bare foot, still wearing nothing but the white
towel.
"Can you do it?" Linda whispered.
Dawn shrugged, but stared into Mark's frozen features.
"I don't know," Dawn said. Dawn steeled her senses, trying to
prepare herself for the flood of hormones, knowing it was useless.
She inhaled sharply, and projected a bubble of time towards the
frozen man. When it touched his stiff skin, the bubble halted.
Dawn cried out, and shoved mentally, gritting her teeth. True to
form, she could feel her nipples and her clitoris raging against the
stress of her own body. The bubble shifted, and began to flow around
Mark, like water flowing around a dam.
"Please," Dawn begged to nobody in particular. She tried to force
the bubble in from the sides. She could feel his slow heartbeat, the
texture of his clothing. Then, with a final gasp, and cry that was a
mixture of pain and desire, Dawn fell, her knees buckling under her.
Dimly, she heard Linda cry her name, and then a second later, call
Mark's name. Dawn could feel the two of them, somehow -- Linda, her
tennis ball spinning brightly, easily, Mark's faltering, but not
moving at the snail's pace that it had been. Dawn struggled to
maintain Mark's spin.
"Linda!" a masculine voice cried out from above. Dawn glanced up,
sex and fatigue flowing through her like a river. She pushed herself
to her hands and knees. Glancing up, she saw Linda, minus her towel
reaching towards the man.
"Linda, no ..."
The naked girl hesitated for a moment, which was enough to save her
from the prison of Mark's frozen arms. She stopped her forward run,
and glanced at Dawn, then back at Mark.
The bubble slipped, and Dawn fiercely sent it back. Mark hiccupped,
like digital video breaking up, then he coughed.
"Linda, I love you," he whispered. Then Mark was silent.
Tears fell silently from Linda's eyes, as she glanced from Dawn back
to her new husband, and back to Dawn.
"I'm sorry, Linda," Dawn gasped. And then the world fell dark and
silent.
<---===***===--->
Her pillow was the softest material that she'd ever slept on. Dawn
absently reached forward, intending to curl the pillow under, to
lose herself in its depths. When her fingers touched warm, bare,
soft skin, she cried out and opened her eyes.
The unmistakable curve of a bare thigh extended forward from Dawn's
eyes, the corridor's wall, and a fire extinguisher mounted sideways
beyond.
Slowly, she pushed herself up, her breath coming in short, fast
bursts.
"What ..." she mumbled.
Linda smiled, pulled her bare legs back, hugging them to her chest.
Dawn's pillow had been the girl's soft thigh, and Dawn rubbed
absently at her cheek, taking note of her own clothing. Nothing
disturbed, all intact. But who would have touched her in her passed
out condition? Linda? Mark?
(Gotta stop thinking about sex. Please.)
Dawn turned. Mark still stood in front of the doorway, his arms now
outstretched as if to encourage an embrace. She could sense him, a
slowly spinning tennis ball in the murky haze of the timelines.
Dawn turned again to face Linda. The girl reached for the towel that
had tumbled from her when she had tried to run to Mark earlier. Tear
streaks still decorated her cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Linda," Dawn whispered.
Linda shrugged lightly, and then tried a smile.
"You tried. You almost had him."
Dawn dimly remembered Mark speaking, and moving above her, not being
able to hold the time bubble, not being able to resist the
blackness. Her breasts and vagina burned with an insistent heat. She
had to force her hands to remain against the carpet of the corridor.
"I did have him, but I couldn't ... it hurt so much ..."
Linda smiled gently, and forgoing the towel crawled towards Dawn.
Tears fell unheeded down Dawn's cheeks. Linda held Dawn for a long
time, stroking her hair.
"How long was I out?" Dawn asked, gently extracting herself from
Linda's arms.
"I don't have a watch, I think it was about an hour."
"An hour? Oh my God."
"I thought you were dead, for a while. I tried to go for help, but I
could only get half-way down the hall. It was like walking into an
incredibly strong plate of glass." Linda rubbed absently at a faint
red mark in the middle of her forehead.
Dawn thought about that for a moment, then realised what had
happened. Time frozen air would feel like concrete, or ice, to
someone who couldn't manipulate the time continuum -- to someone,
like Linda, who didn't control her own time bubble.
"The air is frozen."
It seemed to make sense to Linda, who climbed to her feet and
wrapped the towel about her nudity again. Then she leaned down
extending her hand. Dawn grasped it and pulled herself up. Her knees
threatened to buckle, but if she leaned on Linda, she could manage
to duck around Mark and shuffle back into the Bridal Suite.
Chapter 97
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Dawn had no sooner settled onto the sofa when the first vision hit
her like a sledge hammer. She whimpered, and curled herself into a
fetal position.
She was climbing steps, naked and barefoot, marble warm beneath her
feet. The air was chilly around her naked skin, especially near her
breasts. Her hands were handcuffed behind her back. To the side,
three other naked girls walked with her up the steps, similarly
naked and similarly bound.
(I don't want to be here!)
Dawn tried to disengage, but a spasm of sexuality blasted through
her, and Dawn groaned in the suite so far from where the visions
manifested. The other girls, Dawn recognised from other
visions. Kate. Monique. Andrea. And herself -- somehow, she knew she
was watching the scene through Leigh's eyes. Leigh's body throbbed
with frustration, and this echoed into Dawn's prone body. Dimly, she
was aware that her fingers, on the sofa in the suite had stolen to
her breasts, kneading them in front of ...
She tore herself from the vision with a gasp. She snatched her hands
from her body, shoving them deep into the pockets of her jeans.
"Are you all right?" Linda asked softly.
Dawn simply moaned in response, turning her head aside and away from
the other girl.
The visions grabbed her again, and she cried out as they carried her
away again, to a castle, or a palace outside of her experience,
somewhere through space and time.
A girl knelt on hardwood floor, her hands handcuffed behind her.
Her blouse hung ruined and open from her shoulders. Her mouth was
open obscenely, ready to accept the penis of the man towering over
her. The man seemed frozen, as did the girl, his hand caught pulling
down his zipper in front of the girl.
With a start of horror, Dawn realised that the girl and the man had
similar features -- had to be closely related. She gagged, and tried
to push herself from the scene. A naked girl, Kate, unfettered, ran
to the unknown kneeling girl with a cry of dismay. Dawn knew the
emotions that Kate was trying to voice to someone outside of her
range of vision.
(I don't want to be here! Please!)
With a final burst of what little energy Dawn still possessed, she
pushed away the horrible images, and she was back on the sofa.
Slowly, she pulled her clenched fists from her own pockets, pressing
them to her eyes until sharp jags of light plumed behind her
eyelids.
Linda knelt beside the sofa, concern radiating from her like heat
from a sidewalk in the sun.
"Dawn! Talk to me! Please!"
Dawn tried to say something, anything; she tried to reach forward to
touch the crying girl kneeling beside the sofa. But her hands
refused to move, and her jaw felt like it was wired shut. The image
of the naked, kneeling girl haunted her mind before the darkness
descended once more to claim her.
<---===***===--->
Dawn groaned, her own throaty voice surprising her. Without opening
her eyes, she took stock of herself. Her breasts felt swollen, and
her clitoris ached. She willed thoughts of sex from her mind, not
very successfully. Everything else, including her thighs and calves,
especially, ached. Gentle fingers stroked through her hair, and a
quiet voice sang from somewhere above her. For a moment, Dawn was
sure that her mother had returned, to comfort her. She nearly called
out, but was jolted back to reality when she opened her eyes.
Linda's soft thigh extended from her cheek again, and the voice
above her wasn't the long gone voice of Dawn's mother. Instead of
bolting upright, Dawn relaxed and simply enjoyed the sensations of
Linda's fingers and her singing, trying to ignore the definitely
sexual tingles that resulted.
"Welcome back," Linda said quietly from above.
Dawn shifted, turning to look up at Linda. Linda continued to stroke
Dawn's hair, almost absently.
"You're naked," Dawn said. The gentle curves of Linda's bare breasts
swelled as Dawn shifted to look up.
Linda merely smiled. "I'm used to it, and he destroyed my clothes
before he left. I checked. Mark's too. I don't have anything to wear
except sheets, or towels. And that didn't seem right. I don't mind
anymore. Only us two here, and you've seen me naked. I think I'm
getting used to it." Linda paused for a moment. "How are you
feeling? What happened? You looked terrified before you passed out."
With a pang of regret, Dawn pushed herself into a sitting position.
Linda gently massaged her own bare thigh for a moment where Dawn's
head had been resting.
"How long was I out?"
Linda shrugged. "I really don't know. A long time, this time. Maybe
a few hours. You looked really frightened before you passed out."
The chilling image of the naked girl kneeling for her father touched
Dawn's memory. She shivered.
"I saw something. Something ..."
Linda touched Dawn's shoulder for a moment. "Shhhh. I don't want to
know. It's okay."
Dawn sighed, and let the image retreat. Despite her revulsion, Dawn
shivered, her hormones reasserting themselves.
It felt like midnight to her -- her eyes were grainy and weak, and
she was cold despite her clothes. Dawn glanced out the window. The
noon sun continued to shine far above, surrealistically.
Without a word, Linda rose and padded naked to the windows. She
fumbled beside the supports, and tugged at a string there. With a
clatter, venetian blinds dropped reducing the sun to narrow beams of
bright light fanned across the suite.
Linda returned, and held out her hands. Dawn grasped them, a tingle
of electricity rushing through her skin. Linda's fingers fumbled
with the base of Dawn's sweatshirt.
"Linda, wait ..."
The naked girl looked into her eyes for a moment.
"I can't pretend that I know what you are going through, being able
to control time. But I know what you went through, what you mumbled
while you were out."
Dawn swallowed heavily. If Linda continued, she wouldn't be able to
resist. Her hormones wouldn't let her. Not this time. The dimness of
the room, and the naked girl in front of her pushed her body into a
frenzy. One touch, and she would fall over the edge, she was sure.
Dawn moaned as she raised her arms and her sweatshirt lifted above
her head.
<---===***===--->
The floor tiles felt odd beneath her bare feet -- damp but warm. The
water bubbled, and steam rose steady from the surface. Linda stood
up to her thighs in the middle of the tub. Her bare breasts
shimmered in shafts of noon sunlight through the blinds. She smiled
and extended her hand.
Dawn glanced back at the sofa where her clothes lay scattered, some
on the floor, some draped over the sofa's arms.
Dawn returned her gaze to the naked girl in the tub. Linda kept her
hand extended.
"It's wonderful in here," Linda said, her voice husky and low.
Dawn nodded once, and reached forward, grasping Linda's fingers
lightly and stepping gingerly over the edge. Water and bubbles
enveloped her bare feet and calves, seeping the ache and the pain
from them as surely as a trained masseuse. Slowly, she lowered
herself into the bubbles. The scent of peaches rose up and tickled
her nose. Dawn lay back her head, dimly aware of Linda settling into
the tub across for her.
(God. I want to touch her. Another girl. Anyone.)
She forced the thoughts from her mind, but a moan escaped her lips.
She closed her eyes and let the water bubble around her bare skin.
<---===***===--->
Linda's breath kissed her cheek, warmer than the water that embraced
her. Dawn opened her eyes. Linda was close, and her bare breasts
pressed with a gentle weight against Dawn's ribs and upper arm. Dawn
sighed, and began to shift away.
"Linda ..."
Linda's finger touched Dawn's lips, shushing her. Dawn wanted to
resist, but her body wasn't about to let her.
"I'm not either. He's my husband of all of ten hours, maybe. But
this isn't real. It can't be."
"It's real," Dawn whispered.
Linda nodded. "I don't know anymore. I've been stripped, punished,
and had sex with four other girls." She paused for a moment, then
plunged. "I can't say that I know what you are going through, or
why, but I believe you. You tried, and ... I ... appreciate that.
And Mark wouldn't mind. Not here."
"I would have anyway," Dawn mumbled.
"I know," Linda said. Her fingers gently worked their way up from
Dawn's submerged waist to tickle her ribs just under her breasts.
"You don't have to do this," Dawn whispered. "I can take care of
myself."
"It's better with another," Linda said. "And you tried. For me."
Dawn's next protest was silenced by Linda's lips -- soft, wet,
wonderfully yielding, and feminine. Hormones rushed through Dawn's
body, igniting fires that couldn't be denied.
She fell into Linda's lips, and closed her eyes.
<---===***===--->
Linda's fingers led her easily from the tub, water dripping from her
body and wetting the floor. The two climaxes in the tub had built on
each other, Linda's fingers finding her rhythm as if she'd been born
to make love to her. Dawn shivered with the recollection, how
quickly those gentle fingers had found her aching nipples and
swollen clitoris, bringing forth the first crashing climax within
seconds of her first kiss.
While Linda drew the drapes, plunging the bedroom into unaccustomed
dimness, Dawn crawled up on the bed, and knelt watching the girl
step towards her. After two climaxes, she should have been
exhausted. Should have been exhausted from the multiple
self-indulgences that she'd dallied earlier in the day. But her
hormones still raged through her -- she supposed it was her
continued support of the girl in front of her, and her other small
manipulations of the timeline.
She smiled, and held out her hand. Linda took it, and crawled
nakedly over the bed sheets to her. Their lips met again, without
hesitation. Dawn moaned, her voice echoing Linda's soft mewl.
<---===***===--->
The sheets were damp beneath her knees and elbows, partially
dampness from the hot tub, partially sweet perspiration.
Dawn dipped her head, her lips and tongue happily exploring the
folds and valleys of Linda's vagina. The girl's scent was a pleasant
mixture of peaches and musk. Linda's tongue touched Dawn's vagina,
delving inside, fingers exploring in almost a frantic sixty-nine.
Dawn gasped and cried out as the third, and final, climax rushed
through her body, muscles clamping and releasing in a unique rhythm.
After she came down, she dipped her head again, and licked gently at
the girl below her, until Linda screamed, the sounds of her climax
filling the room like tissue paper.
<---===***===--->
Linda lay softly snoring in the crook of Dawn's arm. Dawn stroked the
girl's hair for a moment, then settled back to inspect the narrow
beams of light filtering across the white of the ceiling.
She needed to find the Timeman, needed to find out what the hell was
going on, both with her, and with him. For a moment, she shivered,
knowing that she wasn't going to like what she found. But she had to
try. Had to.
With a soft sigh, she released herself to the fatigue of her body.
It ached pleasantly now, naked beneath the sheets. Linda's soft,
scrubbed skin lay erotically against her breasts and thighs, her
toes entangled with Dawn's. She still felt an attraction to the
girl, it couldn't be denied, but it wasn't as insistent any longer.
She could concentrate again. And she was thankful.
Her eyes felt heavy, and her breathing slowed to match Linda's
shallow breaths. Dawn's dreams were filled with hot tubs, and
fingers, and peaches.
Chapter 98
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
Kate's eyes widened as the girl, almost imperceptibly, came alive.
Her eyes remained closed, her body trembling, her bared breasts
rising and falling rapidly in fear and trepidation. Kate tried to
will her hand forward to touch the girl, to make sure that she was
real, that she was truly reanimated and alive. But her hands
remained clasped in her lap trembling. Kate's tongue also refused to
obey simple commands from her brain.
It took the girl a few moments before the unusual silence, and
perhaps the lack of a penis pressing inexorably between her lips,
caused her to flutter her eyelids open. For a moment the girl stared
at Kate, disorientation, fear, and surprise crossing her features.
The silent tears that had previously graced her cheeks with her
situation continued unabated, and unbrushed.
As the girl snapped her mouth closed, and then reopened it, Kate
managed to whisper: "Please, no." Kate automatically raised her
hands to cover her ears, as the girl screamed, her voice melting
into the strangely echoless room.
Terrified, the girl looked up at the man towering above her, then
back at Kate. When her eyes flipped over the Timeman, still
reclining on her bed, she screamed again, though the second scream
lacked the strength of the first.
With another fearful glance at the man above her, and a quick look
of puzzlement, the girl scrambled as best she could back towards the
mountain of pillows behind her. Her bound wrists impeded her, but
she kicked out with her bare feet, and crabbed backwards until she
lay panting amongst the pillows, watching Kate warily.
Kate glanced back at the Timeman, who merely shrugged his shoulders
as if to say: "Freeing her wasn't my idea ..."
Kate turned back towards the frightened girl. The girl lay on her
back, her hands trapped underneath her, her breasts poking through
the ruins of her blouse. She'd closed her eyes, and moaned quietly.
"Please no. Please don't hurt me."
Kate rose up on her knees, wishing that she had been at least
allowed clothing for this. With a sigh, she shuffled towards the
girl slowly, her hands held outward, palms up.
"Nobody is going to hurt you," she said as gently as she could,
carefully keeping her body as non-threatening as she could. She
wasn't entirely sure of the truth of the statement, but she was sure
that she wasn't going to hurt the girl at least.
As Kate approached, the girl glanced to her right. Her movement
reminded Kate of a frightened rabbit. The girl tried to turn over,
her toes scrabbling at the floor. A pillow slid across the hardwood,
touching Kate's bare knee as it passed her. The girl cried out,
pulling desperately at her bound hands, trying to reach forward. Her
abdomen clenched, almost as if the girl was in agony, and then she
collapsed backward into the pillows again, her breathing ragged. Her
blouse slipped down her shoulder, revealing more of her bare skin.
Kate grimaced as an ugly purple bruise appeared under the girl's
clothing, about where her lowest rib should have been.
"Please. I'm not going to hurt you," Kate whispered. She stopped
moving, holding out her hands. Her arms ached, but she didn't lower
them. The girl stared at her, glassy eyed and afraid.
"He brought you here," the girl said.
For a moment, Kate thought she meant the Timeman. Confusion crossed
her mind until she realised that the girl wasn't looking towards her
bed, but rather to the imposing figure that still pulled obscenely
at his zipper.
"He brought you here to punish me," the girl whispered.
"Who did?" Kate said quietly.
"Him. He brings people here to hurt me."
Kate drew in her breath. The girl looked a little older than her,
though she was more gaunt and ragged looking.
"I'm Kate," Kate said quietly, not understanding the other girl.
The girl looked up at her, resignation apparent across her lips.
"Please, I can't take any more. Please don't hurt me. I'll beg, if
that's what you want."
"I don't want you to beg," Kate whispered. "I just want to know your
name. That's all. I'm not going to hurt you. Look, I'm as naked as
you are." She hoped that her own nudity would comfort the girl.
Instead, the girl cowered back.
"Of course, you are. He likes the girls he gets to be naked when
they twist my nipples," the girl said bitterly. Her breathing had
increased again.
Kate settled back on her bare heels. "I'm not going to hurt you."
She paused and lowered her voice a little. "What's your name?
Please?"
The girl looked up. Something about Kate's voice had finally reached
her. Perhaps it was her demeanour, perhaps the use of the word,
"Please".
The girl swallowed. "He's going to hurt you, if I don't cooperate,
isn't he?"
Kate looked puzzled for a moment, her mind returning to the Timeman
who still watched this exchange from the bed.
"He might," Kate said gently. "That's okay. I won't let him hurt
you. What's your name?"
The girl glanced right again, towards the doorway. "You can call me
whatever you like," she whispered. "Others call me Slave, Tits, and
Cunt. Take your pick. Whatever he told you to call me."
Kate flushed, but managed to keep the gentleness in her voice. "I'm
not here to abuse you. Please, I need you to believe me. He's not
going to hurt you either." Kate waved upwards towards the frozen
man. The girl's eyes followed the movement, her eyes widening a
little. It hadn't occurred to her that her former tormentor had been
silent and motionless the entire time.
The girl turned her gaze back towards Kate. Kate moved a little
forward again. The girl cringed, and tried to muffle another moan.
"Please?" Kate said again. "I'm not going to call you Cunt. I
can't."
The girl looked up, trying to shift her weight again from her bound
hands.
"Nicole," she whispered.
Kate let her breath out, and lowered her eyes.
"Will you let me come closer, Nicole? I won't hurt you."
Nicole shook her head. Her hair trembled in lanky strands. Her eyes
rose to take in the man with his hand on his zipper.
"He'll kill me," Nicole whispered. "And you can't stop him."
Kate turned towards the Timeman, begging him to help with her eyes.
He began to rise from the bed. When she turned back towards Nicole,
the girl had shrunk back into the pillows, her eyes glued on the
male figure on her bed.
"Please no. Please. Please. Please."
"He's not going to hurt you."
"All men hurt me," Nicole whispered. Her breathing seemed desperate,
and dangerous. Kate inched a few centimetres closer. "Please, don't
let him hurt me."
"I won't. He won't hurt you," Kate repeated.
Nicole pushed with her trapped arms, almost sitting up. Her face
screwed up, almost in a parody of agony, her hands reaching around,
trying to touch her injured ribs. A few drops of crimson blood
dripped from her fingertips. Nicole screamed, her voice piercing
into Kate's ears. Before Kate could move forward to help her,
Nicole's eyes rolled up and the girl collapsed backwards with a soft
grunt.
The Timeman paused, and Kate held her breath. Nicole's breathing
returned almost to normal, the rise and fall of her bare breasts
nearly peaceful.
Slowly, Kate climbed to her bare feet and stepped towards Nicole,
kneeling beside the girl. Her eyes were closed, and her breath came
at regular intervals as if she were sleeping and dreaming happy
dreams. Kate touched Nicole's bare shoulder, but the girl didn't
react. Gently, she pushed the tattered blouse aside, her fingers
touching the rapidly developing bruise near Nicole's right ribs.
Something didn't feel quite right in there, and Kate suspected that
the girl had suffered a break, or perhaps a fracture, of her ribs.
Kate straightened. The Timeman stood beside the girl's tormentor
almost if he were trying to kill the man with his gaze of anger.
When he turned back toward Kate, who remained kneeling beside the
fallen girl, he slowly shook his head.
"I told you it wasn't a great idea to wake her."
"She's passed out."
"From fright. Maybe pain."
Kate nodded. "But she's free. Even if it's only for a little while.
You won't hurt you, will you?"
For a moment, she was afraid that her own captor would smile evilly,
saying that women were meant to be subjugated. Instead, he sighed,
and moved towards the girls.
He shook his head. "I'll take care of her. And no, I think she's had
enough hurt in her life."
"Thank you," Kate whispered.
He bent, and slipped his arms under Nicole, one arm beneath her
shoulders, the other beneath her knees. He lifted her, almost like
one might a rag doll. Her limbs lay limply as he carried her towards
the door.
Kate jumped to her feet, and with only one hateful glance at the
Nicole's tormentor, she ran to the door to open it, and hold it for
the Timeman. He passed through it silently, and out into the
hallway.
Chapter 99
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
The Timeman lowered Nicole gently to the stripped bed. The girl
moaned as her weight settled onto the mattress, but didn't wake.
More gently than Kate might have believed of him, the Timeman
arranged the unconscious girl's legs and slipped a pillow beneath
her head. He straightened.
"In the blue backpack, front pocket, there's a set of handcuff keys.
Let's hope that these things have similar locks." He gestured
towards Nicole's bound hands. Kate stood by the foot of the bed. She
wished that she wasn't naked, again, but there wasn't much she could
do about that at the moment.
She looked up at his words, preoccupied with Nicole's form.
"Get her a glass of water, too. She'll be thirsty when she wakes."
Puzzled, she watched him.
"Go, girl," he barked.
Startled, Kate jumped, and then moved towards the doorway.
"I don't ..."
"You'll find them. Be quick. I don't think she'll be asleep long."
Even as he spoke, the girl on the bed moaned.
Kate turned tail and slipped back out into the cooler hallway. Happy
voices and laughing filtered lazily through the bathroom door as she
passed, though she didn't recognise Leigh's voice amongst them. She
hurried down the stairs, her feet light on the hardwood risers.
The living room was empty, although three sets of handcuffs lay on
the floor beside the blue backpack. Kate knelt, and hunted quickly
through the front pocket of the pack. She smiled with some
satisfaction when her fingers emerged with a shiny key. She hoped
that it would work.
Her feet had climbed three stairs before she remembered the water.
She ran back, opening cupboards until she found one with multitudes
of octagonal water glasses. She grabbed a glass, wondered for a
moment if the tap would work, but at the touch of her fingers, the
water fell into the sink. She let it run until the flow felt cool
beneath her fingers. With the filled glass in her left hand, she
walked as quickly as she dared until she stood outside of the lonely
bedroom.
She took a breath and entered.
He sat in the room's only chair, watching Nicole almost with a look
of caring. The girl pulled weakly against her handcuffs. Kate
grimaced at the thin blood that coated her pale hands behind her
back. She wasn't awake yet, but she would be soon.
Silently, she approached and held out the key. He took it without
comment, and leaned over the girl. Kate placed the water on the
desk, unmindful of the cherry wood finish.
A sharp click, and a sigh of satisfaction emerged from the bed.
"Help me with this, Kate," he said.
She turned, her eyes widening. Nicole's torn blouse hung well off
her shoulders, and his fingers fumbled with the clasp to her tight
blue jeans.
"What the hell are you doing?" Visions of him raping the unconscious
and beaten girl flitted through her mind. Kate felt sick.
He sighed and turned towards the redhead.
"Kate. I'm not going to hurt her."
"Then what are you doing?"
"Stripping her. Are you going to help me? If not, I can handcuff you
-- keep you out of the way."
"I'm not going to help you torment her. Punish me, instead. Can't
you see that she's hurt? Badly?"
He sighed again, and settled himself to the bed. Nicole's body
shifted as he lowered himself, but she still didn't wake.
"I'm not going to hurt her. I need to see if there's any other
damage, other than this." He pointed towards Nicole's injured ribs.
"I didn't want to unfreeze her, Kate. She'll be better off here than
she was, but she's not going to be free. You knew that from the
beginning. Now, either we put her back, or you agree to do things my
way."
"You're only going to take her clothes, right?"
"I won't even touch her, unless I need to. I'll even let you cuff
her wrist to the bedpost, if that will make you feel better."
Kate stared at the ceiling for a moment, then returned her gaze to
his.
"If I don't help you, you'll tie me into that chair and make me
watch you hurt her." Her voice was flat.
He cleared his throat, then nodded. "I'm not planning on hurting
her."
"I can't stop you, even if you wanted to."
He shrugged, surprising Kate. He didn't say it, but she felt that
perhaps he might actually be doing all of this simply because she
wanted it. She didn't understand it, but somehow it made her smile.
"If you need to hurt her, you know that I'll take whatever her share
is, right?" Kate whispered.
He nodded.
"Okay," Kate said.
"Okay, what?"
In answer, Kate moved forward and grasped the cuff of Nicole's
jeans. The jeans should have been tighter on the girl, but they
slipped off with a single tug. Nicole, unsurprisingly, wasn't
wearing panties. Despite her dishevelled appearance, the girl
smelled sweet and clean, like clover and honey. As the Timeman
worked the girl's blouse from her arms, Kate cleared her throat.
"If you are going to hurt her, you better tie me down. I will do
everything I can to stop you."
He looked up as he pulled the girl's blouse free and dropped it to
the floor.
"I know, Kate. I know."
<---===***===--->
Kate returned to the room carrying a moistened white towel. She
handed it to her captor without comment. He took the towel and
gently wiped at the gashes on Nicole's right wrist. They weren't
deep, only where she'd pulled in panic on her restraints, probably
before Kate and the Timeman had freed her from her kneeling
position in front of the zipper man.
When he was done, only a little crimson seeped from the shallow
wound. Nicole moaned quietly, but still didn't open her eyes.
"What are you going to do with her?"
"Protect her," the Timeman said.
"Protect her?"
Instead of answering, he gently took Nicole's relatively uninjured
left wrist, which still had her handcuffs wrapping the thin wrist.
He released the cuff slightly, the ratchet clicking. The steel left
an indent in the girl's skin, and as it released, pink colour rushed
into her left hand. The girl moaned again, probably as the nerves
sang out into her unconscious mind. The cuff no longer restricted
her circulation, but she wouldn't be able to free herself without
the key.
Gently, he placed her arm upwards, next to the bedpost. The bedpost
had scratches around the base. He slipped the other end of the
handcuff around the bedpost and ratcheted it closed. The girl
wouldn't be able to leave the bed.
Kate suspected that it wouldn't be the first, or the last, time that
Nicole would lie there restrained and naked.
Nicole kicked her feet gently, but then lay still again.
"Why tie her? Can't you leave one of us without your controlling
restraints? She doesn't need another tormentor."
He laughed, turning his attention from Nicole for a moment.
"She's used to this, and if she's restrained she can't hurt anyone.
She's going to be frightened, and until I can calm her, she's a
danger to everyone, including herself. Trust me. I've been through
this before."
Kate idly wondered when, but didn't ask. "I can't stop you. As long
as you don't hurt her."
"I won't, but I have to deal with this girl my own way. Understood?"
Kate hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly.
"And Kate?" Kate looked up, the fringes of her red hair formed a
halo across her vision. "It might be better if you didn't mention
Nicole to the other girls yet. I'd like to get her settled before
introducing her to a bunch of other naked women. Okay?"
"You could let us wear clothes instead? Treat us like human beings?
There's a thought."
"Or I could just return Nicole to her other life."
Kate paled for a moment. "No. That's okay. I won't mention her to
another soul. I'd just as soon you explain her to the others."
He nodded, and rose. "She'll be out for a while yet, I think." He
stepped forward and lightly grasped Kate's elbow. Kate shivered, not
even aware that her sexual energy had rekindled after her initial
horror at Nicole's real life situation.
He led Kate down the hallway, until they stood outside the bathroom.
Kate could hear splashing and laughing inside. The easy voices from
the other side of the door made Kate smile.
Slowly, she turned the knob, and the two of them entered.
<---===***===--->
Leigh sat on the counter, her legs bent and arching across the basin
like a bridge. Her eyes lifted as Kate and the Timeman entered, and
she gathered her knees in a little closer. Andrea's security
baseball cap sat like a sentry near Leigh's bare toes.
To the right, Monique and Andrea splashed in the shower, water
cascading through their hair, and down their naked bodies. A pair of
handcuffs attached them at the wrist.
"What happened? Where did you go?" Leigh asked quietly.
Instead of answering her, the Timeman stepped towards the shower
door, cracking it open. The girls within turned at the intrusion.
While Monique tried half-heartedly to hide her nudity, Andrea stood
proudly under the spray.
Leigh glanced at Kate, who looked down and shrugged. Leigh gave the
redhead a puzzled look, but then turned her attention to the shower.
"It's not time, is it?" Andrea said. Her voice fell almost
automatically into a lower timbre, almost begging.
He shook his head, and reached forward into the spray to touch the
girl's shoulder before she could turn off the water. Andrea pulled
her hand back, her eyes wide watching as the shower spray seemed to
melt around the Timeman's arm.
"A half-hour to be done and dried, unless you want to be wet for the
rest of the evening."
Andrea shook her head. Monique echoed the sentiment.
"When you're done, wait here. I'll send someone for you."
Andrea nodded, though she obviously didn't fully understand the
reasons. It didn't matter.
He slipped from the steamy enclosure, and closed the door against
the frame. He turned towards Kate and Leigh. The girls shivered, but
didn't flinch.
"Come," he said, motioning with his index finger.
Kate stepped forward from where she was leaning against the counter.
Leigh slowly slipped her bare legs down, and with a small hop,
righted herself.
Silently, the girls followed him back out into the hallway. Kate
glanced back at the bedroom where Nicole lay sleeping, but the
closed door didn't reveal any secrets.
<---===***===--->
"Why are you tying us up?" Leigh asked, her voice almost sulky.
Despite her words, she sat docilely in the kitchen chair her wrists
crossed behind her back.
"Because I want to," he replied as his fingers wound soft rope
around the girl's wrists.
"We aren't going to cause any trouble. You know that by now."
"You won't be here long. I have something to take care of."
Leigh sighed, but didn't squirm as he wrapped the rope about her
ankles, holding them together in front of her. A simple rope wrapped
around her slim waist held her back into the chair.
He touched her chin, lifting her face upwards.
"Not long."
"If it isn't going to be long, why tie me up?"
He shrugged. "Because I need to," he said simply.
Leigh pulled half-hearted at the ropes holding her bare body.
"At least you didn't spread my legs this time."
He smiled, and turned towards Kate.
<---===***===--->
Kate shook her head for a moment. "You're going to need help."
"Not from a naked girl, nearly hysterical. Keep Leigh company."
Kate shook her head again, and backed up until her bare back
connected with the front of the range. She nearly put her hands back
behind her, but then considered that the elements might be warm --
probably habit. She clasped them in front of her.
"Please. You don't need to tie me up, too."
He held out his hand, and after flashing him a look of pleading, she
took it and allowed herself to be led to the table where she settled
into a chair opposite Leigh.
She sighed, and obediently crossed her wrists behind her, shivering
as he immobilised her body exactly as he had Leigh.
When he was done, he moved to the head of the table, and leaned on
it.
"You're very pretty like that."
Kate blushed a little; Leigh merely flashed him a tight smile.
"We could be more entertaining if we were free, you know."
He flashed Leigh a quizzical look, and Leigh nodded. Her breath was
coming more raggedly, her bare breasts rising and falling rapidly
upon her chest.
"Perhaps later, minx," he said.
Without another word, he slipped from the room. Kate and Leigh sat
and watched as his free legs carried him effortlessly from their
vision.
<---===***===--->
He returned a moment later, a strap and a ball dangling from his
left hand. Without a word, he walked to where Kate sat.
"I'm sorry," he said. He touched the girl's chin.
Kate refused to open, simply shaking her head.
"You don't need to gag me. Please. Those things hurt."
"It won't be for long. I can't risk you talking."
The girl shook her head, understanding dawning in her eyes.
"Please no. I said I wouldn't talk about it. I won't. Please."
"Open, Kate."
Again, she shook her head. "I swear, I won't talk to her until you
tell me I can."
"About what, Kate?" Leigh asked. He flashed the other girl a quick
look of displeasure, and Leigh clamped her lips shut. Slowly, he
turned to Kate.
"I don't want to hurt you, Kate. But you are going to be gagged."
She shook her head again, defiance blazing in her eyes. Her chest
rose and fell invitingly with her efforts. She pulled at her bonds,
and a thin sheen of perspiration dotted her brow.
With a sigh, he reached forward. She tried to twist, but the ropes
would only allow her so much motion. In a moment, he grasped her
right nipple between thumb and forefinger. She stopped struggling,
her eyes raised to his, pleading.
"I won't talk about her. I swear."
Slowly, he began to increase the pressure on her rapidly hardening
nipple.
"When you scream, and you will, Kate, I'll slip this in your mouth.
I don't want to hurt you."
The girl pressed her lips together, pain evident on her face as his
fingers slowly increased the pressure on her sensitive flesh.
"Please," she moaned. "I don't want to be gagged."
He pressed the rubber ball gently against her lips.
"Just until I've dealt with her."
Kate shook her head. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.
With another sigh, he sharply twisted her trapped nipple.
Involuntarily, Kate cried out, then screamed, her voice melting into
the walls.
"Oh no, please stop," her voice filled with pain. She managed to
close her mouth again, before the ball slipped between her teeth.
His fingers reached for her nipple again.
"Let him," Leigh said quietly. "Whatever it is, I'll find out when
I'm supposed to. Please, Kate. I can't watch this. He'll make it
worse, until you beg him to gag you instead. I can't watch that.
Please."
His fingers stopped the relentless squeezing motion for a moment.
The relief was exquisite for her.
Kate's eyes turned towards Leigh, her eyes almost thankful, as if
she needed permission to give in. Tears traced unheeded down her
cheeks.
Slowly, resignation and humiliation crossing her fair features, she
opened her mouth wide. As he slipped the ball between her lips, the
image of Nicole, her mouth wide in front of the zipper man flooded
her. Tears tracked more freely down her face.
Almost gently, he buckled the gag behind her head, and she lowered
her chin until the tears dripped down her skin and kissed her bare
breasts.
"Kate?"
The girl looked up. Surprisingly gently, he wiped the moisture from
her face.
"Mhmmmm?" she struggled to say anything. The ball holding her mouth
open prevented her from saying anything coherent.
"Good girl," he said, turning from her. Kate let her face drop
again, studying her bare skin.
"Sir?"
He turned, his eyes falling on Leigh who sat staring at Kate.
"Leigh?"
"It's not fair."
"Life's not fair. I'll free her soon enough. Her jaw will be fine."
"No. What I mean is, I'll wear one, too."
"What?"
"It's not fair to torture her, while I'm sitting across from her
without. Only because she knows something that you don't want me to
know. Move me out of the room, or gag me. I don't want to be gagged,
don't get me wrong, but she shouldn't have to suffer alone. If you
want to see us gagged, I won't fight you. I'll wear one, too."
He seemed to consider it for a moment. "She's not gagged because I
simply want her gagged. I can't have her talking to you. She'll say
something -- there's no way she couldn't."
In that, he was correct, Kate thought bitterly. With nothing to do
but stare at each other, she'd have to tell Leigh about Nicole. No
choice. Kate shivered, not quite knowing how he knew that she'd
break her promise to him.
"Doesn't matter. I can't sit here and watch her suffer like that. If
you have to gag her, please, I need to be gagged, too."
Slowly, he shook his head, as if he'd never understand females. He
probably wouldn't.
With a sigh, he left the room.
<---===***===--->
Both girls sat and watched him as he paused by the kitchen entrance.
Leigh's mouth was filled with a green ball, as Kate's was with a
similar red one. Kate's eyes still dripped tears, but she'd calmed
down. Leigh watched almost defiantly from her chair, but nodded
almost as if to say thank-you.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said.
The girl's nodded, and turned their silent gaze from him, almost
dismissing him. He sighed, and closed the door to the kitchen,
leaving the bound girls alone.
Chapter 100
© Copyright 2003 -
Crimson Dragon - All Rights Reserved
They were beautiful -- curves, healthy, smart. Their captivity
couldn't diminish their spirit. Perhaps that is why he had kept
them, even while releasing others from his power and grasp.
Andrea and Monique stood under the spray, simply enjoying the
cascading warmth of the shower. When Andrea glanced up to see him
leaning against the counter, she waved but then turned her back and
continued to allow the waterfall to drench her. Monique didn't seem
to notice him at all, her eyes closed.
They were so beautiful in their enforced nudity, from the tips of
their bare toes, to the hairs upon their heads. And everything in
between.
Andrea glanced through the gentle rain.
"Come to join us?" she asked, her voice carrying despite the glass
and the steam.
He shook his head. Perhaps he imagined it, or perhaps it was real.
Andrea was different, as they all were. But he believed that she
actually did want him to join them, and she would indulge her own
sexuality upon him. Even if Monique wouldn't, at least not
willingly. Monique watched him for a moment, but then turned away.
"Perhaps, later," Andrea said quietly. Then she turned away again.
He couldn't procrastinate any longer, no matter how nice the scenery
in here. The new girl would need assistance when she awakened.
Silently, he slipped out through the door without the girls in the
shower even realising that he was gone.
<---===***===--->
Nicole groaned, and her eyes fluttered open. She pulled weakly on
her left wrist, casting her gaze upwards, seemingly surprised
neither at her nudity, nor her restraint. When her eyes settled on
the Timeman, she sighed, and looked frightened, but she didn't
scream.
"What happens now? You rape me? You hurt me? What's the deal he gave
you this time?" Her voice had retreated into a dull flat timbre.
"Sex for a dollar?"
"We talk, if you are willing. Would you like a glass of water?"
She considered it for a moment, swallowing a few times without
raising her head from the pillow of her arm.
"How much does it cost?"
He looked bewildered. Nicole raised her head a little with a bitter
laugh.
"A blow job? Counting while you whip me? Intercourse? For a glass
of water? Is it even water?"
Away from the zipper man, Nicole seemed more alive, more vibrant,
more feisty, despite her nudity, her obvious pain, and her bound
position.
He reached to the nightstand where Kate had placed the water in an
octagonal glass. It left a sharp ring of moisture on the cherry wood
that in other times might have permanently damaged the finish of the
furniture. He held the glass out towards the prone girl.
"You might want to sit up. It'll be easier to drink."
Nicole regarded him suspiciously. "What's in there? What drugs?
Something to make me drowsy? Or something to make me hallucinate? Or
something that you think will make me horny?"
"It's just water, unless Kate put something in it that I'm not aware
of. And if she did, she'll regret it."
"You spit in it."
He lowered his head for a moment, then placed the glass on the night
table within her reach if she chose to extend her free arm.
"No, Nicole. That is your name, isn't it?" The girl nodded slowly in
response.
"My name isn't normally a concern to men like you. You can call me
whatever pleases you. Others seem to like Cunt, or Slavegirl." Her
voice wavered. "Some prefer to name me after their own daughters and
I get to call them Daddy."
He ignored the tirade, though his eyes seemed to flicker a
millimetre as she spoke. He drew in his breath.
"Nicole," he said deliberately. "It's just water. See?" He picked up
the glass and took a deep sip from it. He tilted his chin upwards,
working his throat to swallow it so she could see.
Her eyes followed his movements as he put the glass back within her
reach. With a grimace of pain, she worked her body up into a sitting
position, her left arm held outwards and connected to the bedpost.
She reached out with her right hand, purposely rotating her hand so
that she didn't have to look at the bloody cuff marks. She watched
him over the rim of the glass as she quickly drained the glass of
fluid. Gasping, she reminded him almost of an animal that lives
moment to moment, never sure when she'd be kicked, or where her next
drink would come from.
The glass clattered as she dropped it shakily on the nightstand.
"Thank-you," she whispered. She passed her right arm across her
lips. After a moment, she lowered her eyes. "So, what now?" She
slowly slipped her legs apart, her pubic hair trimmed to reveal her
secrets. When she looked up, he'd turned his gaze away from her.
"Aren't you going to fuck me? Don't you want Daddy's little girl?"
"Nicole, you don't have to do that. Not with me."
Nicole swallowed heavily, and as the shaking began to manifest her
muscles, she slowly closed her legs. Her face flushed crimson, but
he wasn't sure if it was embarrassment, or merely confusion.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
His gaze returned to her. "Why did I strip you?"
"No. I know why I don't have any clothing. Why are you torturing me.
If you're going to hurt me, just do it. Please. If you want to whip
me, I'll lie still. As still as I can. That's what most of you want.
You don't even need this. I won't move." She raised her left arm to
the extent that her restraints would let her. "Though, I understand
if you want me helpless."
He sighed, and shuffled his chair a little closer. Nicole began to
back away, but then returned to the edge of the bed, her bare toes
dug into the carpet.
"I can't pretend to know what is going on here, what you go through,
but I'm not here to hurt you."
"That's what they all say." She lowered her voice an octave,
mimicking a male voice. "Come here, baby, this won't hurt a bit."
Her voice rose again, into a normal feminine timbre. "But it always
does."
"Who?"
"Everyone. Everyone he decides to have me 'date'."
He shook his head. "Who?"
"Don't pretend you don't know. If you don't want to say his name, I
don't blame you, but we both know why you're here."
"We do?"
"Do you want me to masturbate for you, first? I will." Her fingers
crept to her nipple, which hardened a little at the sensations of
her own fingers. It seemed to him that the girl was trying to arouse
him. It was working. But if she aroused him, then perhaps the pain
she was expecting might be lessened -- if he was satisfied with her
performance, then perhaps he wouldn't hurt her as long. Given the
type of man she was used to, he suspected her performance normally
worked. At least a little.
"Nicole, while that's pretty to watch, you don't need to do that
either. Who's doing this to you? Who's that man in the other room?"
"You know who he is."
"I don't. I stumbled into this. I'll explain in a moment."
Nicole looked at him, suspicion on her features.
"You know who he is. He's who brought you here to play these games
with me. My tormentor. My torturer. My Doctor." The last title
seemed to carry more hatred than the other terms. "He who'll hurt me
far more than you, if I don't make you happy."
"Your father?"
Tears leapt into Nicole's eyes and before she could stop the words,
she snarled at him. "Fuck you. If you're going to whip me, whip me.
If you want to hurt me, then this is a good spot." She cried out as
she jabbed the area under her right breast where the skin was
discoloured and purple. "If you want to fuck me, or force me to suck
you, I'll do it. Just please, can we stop playing this sick game."
The man shook his head sadly, and then looked up at the seething
girl.
"He hasn't broken you, yet," he said.
Nicole shrank back, her fingers rubbing at the bruise near her
broken ribs.
"He's broken, me. I'll do whatever it is you want," she muttered.
"I want you to talk to me," he said quietly. "I want you to believe
that I'm not going to hurt you."
"So it will hurt more when I'm not expecting it?"
He shook his head patiently, and leaned back in the chair.
"Why does he do this to you?"
"You have to ask that? Because he wants to? Because he's a sadistic
fuck? Because he likes having sex with his twenty year-old daughter?
Because he likes hurting me? Because I didn't want to be a fucking
doctor like him??" She paused for a moment, then her bravado
collapsed. "Take your pick. I'm sorry. Please don't tell him I said
all that. Please?"
"Relax, Nicole. He can't hurt you while you're here."
"Who are you?" Nicole asked quietly.
He took a deep breath. "It'll sound crazy, I know. But I ...
manipulate time. I'm a time traveller."
Nicole actually laughed, but the pain as she did brought the mirth
up short.
"You're crazier than he is." A spark of fear slipped into her eyes.
"Think back. When you were kneeling in front of him." Nicole paled
at the words, but recovered. "When Kate found you."
"Who is she? Why was she naked?"
"Kate. She wanted to help you. She'll be back a little later. The
point is, think about him. Kate was there, trying to help you. Your
father didn't even move, did he? Shouldn't he at least have been
watching Kate -- a gorgeous, naked redhead in your bedroom?"
Nicole closed her eyes, and thought back. She remembered crabbing
away from her father, her arms still bound behind her. And she
remembered Kate clearly, her nudity almost unremarkable in this
house. And she remembered expecting a blow from above, but it never
came. In her panic, she hadn't even realised that her father hadn't
moved, hadn't hit her, hadn't struck out at her.
"What?"
"He was frozen, Nicole, because I control the time around him. He
can't hurt you here. Kate wanted me to bring you here -- away from
him."
Nicole lay back down on the bed, and closed her eyes. He leaned
back in his chair, tilting it until the front legs left the ground.
"Suppose I believe you," Nicole said slowly without opening her
eyes. "Why am I here? Naked and handcuffed?"
"Kate could probably explain that better than I, but it's because I
want you here."
"I see. Because I'm a good plaything, right? I've already been
broken in. I don't mind. I'll have sex with you, if you want it.
I'll even let you hurt me." The girl shivered. "It's got to be
better than ..."
He sighed. "I'm not going to rape you, Nicole."
The girl said nothing, merely curled up on the bare mattress.
After a time, he spoke to her again, unsure if she was even asleep.
"You need some rest, Nicole."
The girl nodded, her eyes only slits. "Thank-you," she said.
"I'll come give you more water in a little bit, okay?"
She murmured something, but he didn't quite catch what.
He stood by the door watching her bare form, surprised as she
actually began to softly snore. He smiled. He thought that maybe,
just maybe, she might be all right. There remained a spark in the
girl.
<---===***===--->
He stood like an obscene statue, his hand resting between his legs,
dropping his zipper to a daughter that no longer knelt in front of
him. Anger and hatred blazed for a moment in the Timeman's features,
but in the end, he realised that such emotions could only cause
mistakes to be made. Bad mistakes. Dangerous mistakes.
No, there were other ways of dealing with scum like this.
With a satisfied smile, he walked back towards the bed, Nicole's
small bed, and pulled the pink comforter from it. Carrying the
blanket in his arms, he slipped from the bedroom, and returned to
where Nicole lightly slept.
He gently tucked the blanket around her bare body, and then
carefully slipped from the room, shutting the door as he stepped out
into the cool hallway.
He paused at the top of the stairs. He could hear small muffled
sounds from the kitchen, and nothing, not even water running from
the bathroom.
He stepped in front of the bathroom door and without announcing his
presence turned the doorknob and let himself in.
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