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Message-ID: <40758asstr$1044681005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [015/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Sat,  8 Feb 2003 00:10:05 -0500
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Author's Shortened Preface:
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In the interests of reducing bandwidth the full preface is now 
available at:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Crimson_Dragon/www

I would encourage you to read it at least once. If you ignore
the full preface and end up offended, you have nobody to blame but
yourself. Caveat emptor. The really important bits:

This is a work of erotic fiction. As such there may be scenes with
nudity, sex, and even questionable non-consensual bondage. If you
are a minor, or you are irresponsible at any age, you shouldn't be
reading this -- find somewhere else to play. I won't be offended.
If you are looking for a quick stroke story, this probably isn't
it. For a piece of writing of 157 chapters, there is remarkably
little sex. You've been warned. Twice.

This is an original work, copyrighted by the author, Crimson Dragon.
Please do not use it as if it were your own. Enjoy the writing, but
do not archive or sell it in any manner without my written
permission. I'm easy to contact if you wish to redistribute my
words.

Lastly, I thoroughly enjoy hearing from people reading any of my
stories. Feel free to contact me with raves, rants, encouragement or
dissertation (note the lack of invitation for spam). I do try to
reply to all who are kind enough to drop me a note.

Now, if you are still with me, onto the story,
 - Crimson
   (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Crimson_Dragon/www

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Dawn of Time - Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

Chapter 15

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(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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Kelly's yellow smock lay over the checkout desk like a discarded
rain slicker. Her street clothes, draped on her body, shone darkly
under the fluorescent lights, as black as the paint that graced her
fingernails.

Black, black and more black. He idly wondered if the girl was
depressed.

She looked at him with a pleading look, which didn't find solace.
After a moment of hesitation, her fingers began to unbutton her
black blouse. Her eyes shifted left and right, refusing to meet his,
looking perhaps for assistance, even at the risk of exposure.

Her blouse joined the yellow smock reminding him of a bumblebee,
black stripes on a big yellow body. Her skin was milky white, except
for her face which was artificially darkened by a strangely coloured
dark rouge. A band of black, her brassiere, stretched across her
chest, enclosing her breasts.

She hesitated again at her black jeans, but her fingers fumbled at
the clasp, and finally urged the denim down her thighs. Standing
behind the counter, he couldn't see her thighs, except for the odd
flash as she bent to tug the fabric over her feet. She left her
pants somewhere hidden behind the counter.

He adopted a practised look of non-pity, setting his features into a
strict pose. When she rose, and looked at him inquiringly, she
didn't ask the question that he could have predicted.

"More?" didn't issue forth for her.

Instead, with a tremble and a sigh, she reached up behind her, with
surprising flexibility, and somehow unclasped her bra with practised
ease. Except there was no mirror here, and he was reasonably sure
that she'd never undressed in her place of employment before.

For a moment, she held the bra against her breasts with her hands.

"Please?" she whispered.

"Kelly, you know what I want."

The girl sighed, and with a quick movement, like that of a child
removing a Band-Aid, the bra joined her blouse against the yellow
smock. Another stripe on the insect.

She shivered, but made no attempt to cover her bare breasts. Her
breasts weren't overly large. That would cut out one of his plans,
but perhaps not entirely. However, she definitely didn't need the
bra, her breasts lovely, and perky, her nipples beginning to harden.
Her left nipple wore a small ring; her belly button was adorned with
a similar silver hoop.

"Now what?" she asked. Now that she'd agreed to strip, and had done
so, her voice had returned to an edge of defiance.

"You aren't done," he remarked easily. He gestured towards her black
panties with the barrel of the gun. She paled at the gesture.

Her panties were fancier than he'd expected -- not briefs, but not a
thong either. They didn't cry out: "Fuck me", nor were they frigid,
standard briefs. He could only see the tops of them, but they looked
French cut, or something.

"Please. I've stripped enough for you. Please let me get dressed."

He smiled kindly at her, but gestured again with the gun.

"Please no." Her voice had lost that defiance again.

He nodded.

With trembling fingers, she hesitated for a long time. Her fingers
hooked under the waistband of the cloth protecting her last modesty.
He didn't press her, let her take her time with this one. The
waiting, for her, would be worse than taking that Band-Aid approach.

She seemed to realise that, after a few minutes, and without warning
pushing the cloth down her legs in one fluid motion. Her pubic
region remained hidden below the desk, but she probably didn't
realise that.

She stood back up slowly, after pushing the panties over her feet
hidden somewhere below.

"Now what?"

"Come around here, please," he said quietly.

"Why?"

He let her stand there for a moment, shifting her weight from foot
to foot, arms clasped under her breasts, almost hugging herself. He
gave her credit; once she'd stripped, she hadn't tried to cover
herself.

"I want to see you."

Slowly, she stepped over the clothing that was undoubtedly scattered
on the floor under the register, and with a glance towards the mall
entrance again, she slipped out of her carrel to stand fidgeting
near the opening to behind the counter. She had finally,
unconsciously, clasped her hands in front of her pubic hair, which
before she did that, had revealed a trim patch.

Her feet remained encased in white Keds, somehow incongruous with
her image, but probably comfortable for a job that required her to
stand all day. Her ankles sported short black athletic socks.

He motioned her over to where he was standing.

She stepped slowly towards him, her surprise registering on her face
as he moved away. The girl was still expecting to be raped -- he
could see it in her eyes.

He hopped up easily to the counter, sitting over the bar code
reader, his feet swaying easily. He half-expected the register to
beep. One time-manipulating bastard: $15.99. All sales final. His
fingers ran over her blouse and bra; the bra still retained some of
her body heat, her blouse was cold to the touch. Her jeans and
panties lay in a jumble on the rubber mat below the cash register.
Two green twenties peeked up from beneath her jeans.

Kelly stood in the spot that he'd vacated, a spot with a much better
view of the mall. She was shivering, but her hands had moved from
her nervous fidgeting, affording him a view of her pubic region; her
hair matched her eyebrows, matched the spiky hair on her head. The
ebony colour wasn't a dye as he'd assumed prior to having her
undress for him.

Her eyes rested on the old man, about to enter the store. Confusion
reigned over her face.

"Kelly?"

She tore her eyes from the entrance, a look of fear adjusting to her
face.

"What's wrong with him? All of them?"

He wasn't sure if he needed to answer, but in the end, he did.

"They're frozen, Kelly."

"Frozen?"

"That's why I can get away with having you naked. Nobody can see
you, but me. Even here."

"Really?" she asked hopefully. It was almost as if she was relieved,
but intrigued at the same time, despite herself.

He nodded slowly.

"What now?" she asked simply.

"First, I want you to take off those shoes and socks."

"Can't," she answered.

He raised the gun.

"Why not?"

At the sight of the gun, she gulped but tried anyway.

"Not allowed to go without shoes in the store. Might get a nail in
the foot. Customers sometimes spill them."

He laughed kindly.

"Let me worry about that, I won't fire you, and watch where you
walk."

She swallowed, obviously not liking the notion of losing her last
bit of clothing, but after a moment, crouched and began to unlace
the Keds on her feet. After both shoes were loose, she stood, and
carefully kicked the footwear to the side. After that, she pulled
the socks off with her toes, the results like two small black garter
snakes on the tile of the store floor.

"Happy?" she asked. But there was no defiance in her voice. She
merely wanted to be done with this.

Her toes were painted the same shade as her fingernails. He wasn't
surprised somehow. Her second toe on her right foot sported a band
of silver.

"You look nice, Kelly."

She shifted from foot to foot, nervously. It was obvious that she
wasn't used to compliments about herself.

"Can I get dressed now that you've seen me? Gotten your thrill?"

Then she blushed, as if aware that provoking this man might not have
been her best option. She cast her eyes down, inspecting her bare
feet.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Unfazed, he sat regarding the naked girl.

"Why do you dress like that?"

"Like what?"

"All in black?"

"What do you care?" she asked, but again, no defiance, merely a
question.

"I'd like to know. I'm curious."

"Just feel black most of the time," she answered simply. It was
obvious that she didn't mean racially, but somehow it related to her
moods. Females were wonderfully complex creatures, he thought idly.

"Can those be removed?"

"What?"

"The nose stud, and the eyebrow ring?"

"And the nipple ring?"

"Yes, and that, too?"

She nodded slowly, her hands rising to the ring set in her eyebrow,
turning it slowly through her skin. The band moving through her made
his skin crawl, but she didn't seem bothered particularly.

"Give me your jewellery."

She looked up sharply.

"The money in the cash register is worth more than everything I'm
wearing."

She was correct, as far as he could tell. The twenties scattered
about the counter were probably worth more. Nothing she was wearing
was gold; she probably had to buy all of her adornments herself.
Being a cashier would be thankless, and low paid.

With a sigh, she didn't wait for him to tell her again, but began to
loosen the eyebrow ring first. She began to fumble with her left
breast, looking for the tiny clasp on the ring there when he stopped
her.

"Not the nipple ring, you can keep that."

She regarded him quizzically, but worked the nose stud out, and
quickly unclasped her watch. She looked up questioningly when she
began to work on the belly hoop, but he didn't stop her so her
fingers continued until the silver joined the rest of her adornments
in her left palm. She began to move forward, but then stopped. Then
she knelt, and struggled to pull the ring off her toe. When she
looked up, her eyes were frightened.

"I. I can't get it off."

"The toe ring?"

She shook her head miserably, as if she expected to be shot because
the band wouldn't release her.

He shrugged easily.

"You can leave it on, then. No problem."

With a look of relief, she rose again to her bare feet. She
hesitated a moment, but then stepping forward warily, she held out
the jewellery to the man, upturning her palm to drop the bits of
metal into his hand. As he placed the rings and watch on the desk
upon which he sat, she retreated to stand near her shoes.

"Can I get dressed now?" she asked again quietly. "You've seen all
there is to see."

"Sorry, Kelly. I need you naked for a while."

She sighed, but seemed resigned to her fate.

"The black makeup all part of the blackness?"

She nodded, her eyes beginning to moisten again.

"You'd be a stunning girl without the black, you know."

She seemed to consider that for a minute, appearing small, barefoot
and naked in front of the gunman.

"I know," she said simply.

"Is there a bathroom in the store?"

She hesitated, finally shaking her head.

"'fraid not."

"Where is the closest one?"

"Down by the Harvey's restaurant."

"You need one."

She looked puzzled, unconsciously squeezing her legs together.

"I don't. I don't think."

"I need you to wash your face, get that gunk off so I can see you."

Kelly paled again, underneath the makeup. Perhaps she was actually
shy, he thought. She doesn't want to go out into the mall, even
though she knows that the people are frozen.

"Please?" she almost whimpered.

"Off."

The girl stood rigid for a moment, and he thought she might make a
run for it, but in the end, she whispered.

"I. If you'll let me to my purse, I can wipe it off for you without
going all the way down the mall."

He nodded, and she nearly ran to the desk, oblivious to his presence
upon it. She leaned over the desk, stretching for her purse. Her
bare bottom was so close, he nearly spanked it, thinking of his hand
prints on Sandra's behind, her squirming, her cries.

He controlled his hand, allowing the girl to finally straighten. She
rummaged in her purse eventually coming up with tissue, a tube of cold
cream, and her wallet. Slowly, she unzipped her wallet, and pulled
out two bills, a twenty and a five.

"It's all I have," she whispered. "Please take it and let me go."

He gently pushed the bills back into her hand, closing her fingers
around the money.

"There's four hundred dollars scattered on the floor, Kelly."

She began to cry, then, her makeup running in rivulets as two large
tears traced down her cheeks.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

He nearly reached for her, nearly pulled her in for a hug. She might
have let him. Might. But it might have scared her even more.

"You'll be fine, Kelly. You'll be fine," he whispered.

She managed to get control of her tears, sniffling.

"Let me go," she begged.

"Soon, Kelly. I promise."

"I don't understand."

"I know, Kelly. I know."

Another tear rolled unheeded down her left cheek.


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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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