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Message-ID: <40860asstr$1045181402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [019/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Thu, 13 Feb 2003 19:10:02 -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 19

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(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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The store was empty but for the bored girl leaning against the cash
counter. She didn't look old enough to be working in an adult store,
but perhaps. Girls sometimes looked younger than they were.

Racks and racks of bare flesh, both male and female, barraged him
with gaudy packaging, obscene titles, and poor puns. He picked up a
box with three large-breasted women cavorting on the cover, running
nakedly through trees.

"Forest Hump?"

Kelly laughed behind him, her voice warm, honest, and real. He
picked up another film box.

"Good Will Humping?"

Kelly laughed again, her voice cutting through the silence of the
world. He turned; she tried to wipe the smile from her lips.

"I should make you watch it. That might be some better torture for
you."

"I'd watch it. No problem. Get some popcorn, stretch out. I've
watched worse."

He dropped the box back into the rack. The rack rattled in protest.

"It has women severely objectified," he remarked.

Her voice turned serious.

"What do you think I am, at the moment."

He turned to look at her. She stood naked, her hands tied in front
of her, backpack straps cutting into her shoulders, a chain
stretched between her ankles. She leaned easily against the counter
in front of the frozen clerk. Her hands rose as one, and she
scratched at her nose delicately.

She sighed. "It's nice to be able to do that."

"What?"

"Scratch my nose. When my hands were behind me," her face clouded
for a second, probably as she remembered not being able to reach her
own breasts when she desperately wanted to. "I couldn't reach my
nose. And I didn't want you to scratch it, either." She forced a
smile to her lips. In a moment, it was genuine. "So I didn't ask."

He approached her while she watched him warily.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice registering her alarm.

He grasped her upper arms, pulling her backwards.

"Oh!"

He lowered her gently to the carpet, turning her, legs outstretched
in front of her, still clipped together by the short lengths of
chain around her ankles. The Timeman wandered over to the magazine
rack, rifling through the exposed skin.

He selected one, and returned to where she sat quietly watching him.
He dropped it on her bare thighs.

Kelly looked up at him quizzically.

"Lesbian Fantasies?" she enquired. "You got a fetish that I don't
know about?"

"Silly girl. Leaf through that. I have to grab some stuff, and with
your slowness, it will take me all day. Maybe you'll enjoy it."

"Slowness?" she huffed indignantly. "You could try releasing your
funky hobble." She nodded pointedly at the chain between her ankles,
rattling it with a short shake of her bare foot.

"Just read it. There will be a pop quiz, later."

Kelly looked like she was about to say something sarcastic, but
began to work the cover of the magazine over with her bound hands.
It didn't look easy, but she managed.

He wandered through the store, picking up various toys. Dildos,
nipple clamps, leather cuffs, straps, hoods, and there, behind the
counter, he retrieved a nasty looking riding crop. The girl behind
the counter stared blankly at him as he slipped behind her and
released it from the wire ties holding it to the black grate.

Kelly, her eyes on the pictures in front of her, didn't see him
remove the implement. He leaned it against the counter, out of her
sight. The sight of the crop might seriously disturb her, he
thought.

He slipped the other toys into the backpack, and the bare girl
wearing it only looked up for a moment. She flipped the pages
easily, now, having mastered the technique with her tied hands. So
adaptive, he smiled.

"Almost done with the perverted shopping?" she asked, not looking
up.

"It's equipment, and I'm not the one with my nose stuck in a lesbian
mag."

Kelly stuck her tongue out, before getting a scared look on her face
and dropping her eyes back to the pages laid out on her lap. The
chain jingled between her ankles.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

He laughed, and she looked more relieved. She turned her attention
more fully to the magazine.

Last thing. It was difficult to find these things anywhere else but
in adult stores.

Under the counter, hidden by glass, they lay in a decorative arc. He
idly wondered if the female clerk had arranged them, perhaps feeling
stirs in her groin as she did. He almost woke her to find out.

He gathered the handcuffs and placed them on the glass of the
counter with a clatter. Kelly looked up at the noise, but shrugged,
not surprised any more by his tastes. After a second, she continued
to gaze at the magazine. She flipped another page with an audible
rattle.

He slipped most of the handcuffs into the pack on Kelly's back, but
kept one pair out to test on the naked girl.

He stepped in front of her, the steel swinging from his right index
finger. Slowly, she closed the magazine with her bound hand, using
only one, and ignoring the obstruction of having both hands held
together by the rope. It worked that way.

"Let me guess," she said. "I'm going to get untied." She shifted the
magazine to the floor and off her thighs.

He nodded and knelt beside her. His knee pressed into her warm bare
thigh. While he unwrapped the rope from her wrists, she spoke
quietly.

"Why did you give me that magazine?"

"Which one?"

"Lesbian Fantasies?"

He stopped releasing her for a moment. There was true curiosity in
her eyes. Then his fingers continued to unwrap the rope until it
fell unheeded to her thighs. She made no attempt to push the coils
from her legs, but rubbed absently at her sore wrists where the rope
had cut into her skin.

"I'm not a lesbian," she whispered.

He smiled. She automatically held up her wrists, close together, as
if waiting to be cuffed.

Instead of slipping the cuffs onto her, he reached forward to work
the backpack from her shoulder. She flinched at his movement, but
recovered when she realised what he wanted. Shrugging her bare
shoulders, she helped as much as she could. The heavy pack left wide
red marks on the skin of her shoulders. While he settled the
backpack against a rack of movies proclaiming the best orgy scenes
ever, she rubbed at her shoulders.

When she noticed him watching her, she held up her wrists again.

"You are going to put them on me, aren't you?" she asked resignedly.

"Yes, but not in front of you."

She paled.

"If you have to restrain me, it's more comfortable in front.
Please?"

He gently shook his head.

"You aren't going to hurt my boobs, er, breasts again, are you?"

"No, Kelly. I think you've had enough."

She sighed and pulled her arms back, placing her hands behind
herself.

"I've been good," she said, though in a voice that proclaimed that
she knew such behaviour wouldn't help her.

He knelt behind the naked girl and slipped the cuffs over her
wrists, tightening them, but not cruelly. She could twist her arms,
but not release them.

"Why?"

"I want to show you something. Can you kneel?"

She looked confused for a moment, and wary, but she bent her legs at
the knee, and struggled to get her calves under herself. With her
hands bound, it wasn't easy, but she somehow managed. At last, she
knelt, her thighs resting easily on her bound ankles.

She looked up, her eyes flashing.

"I don't know how long I can be like this. My thighs ..." she said
carefully, as if expecting him to force her to remain like that
despite her discomfort. He supposed that she had a point.

"Tell me when it gets uncomfortable."

She bit her lip for a moment, and nodded.

He reached for the magazine that she had discarded a moment before.
Kelly began to look worried a little.

"Kelly, dear?"

Her lips set, almost as if biting back a comment about him calling
her 'dear'. He continued on, ignoring her unspoken comment.

"What was your favourite picture in here?" He held up the magazine
for her, unnecessarily.

"I'm not a lesbian," she murmured.

"Nevertheless, women are beautiful, more so than men, don't you
think?"

She slowly shook her head, as if denial would make it so. Moisture
began to form near her eyes.

"Don't make me do this."

"Are you bisexual, Kelly?"

She looked up sharply, a flush rising from the tops of her bare
breasts to her throat. He didn't really need to ask her again.

"Which picture?"

Kelly lowered her head, eyes refusing to acknowledge him.

"They were kissing," she whispered. "Naked, and kissing."

He began to flip through the pages, women cavorted naked, touching
each other in private places. He paused at a picture where one
woman, on her hands and knees, licked at the ass of another woman,
head back in mock ecstasy.

He almost flipped past one. The girls were kissing, tongues
touching, moaning for the camera, legs wide, lips spread, hips
tilted obscenely. He held it up. Kelly raised her eyes for a moment,
regarding the image for only a second before shaking her head.

"That's not it."

He continued. Near the back, it hit him. The girls sat together in a
porch swing. Their complete nudity, almost inconsequential. Their
legs intertwined, no stiletto heels, no push up bras. Just simple
natural femininity. The girls were kissing, fingers trailing along
bare skin, tenderly. He wasn't sure, but it didn't look faked like
all the other images.

"Kelly?" The naked girl looked up, in response. "This one?"

Miserably, Kelly nodded, then lowered her eyes.

He left the magazine open to her picture, and slid it along the
carpet towards the back of the store, out of the way.

He grasped her chin, tilting her face upwards. She resisted, but
only for a moment.

"If I woke the clerk, would you like to have sex with her?" he
asked, but not unkindly.

Kelly answered too quickly, her voice strained.

"No."

He released her chin, and she looked back down at her bare thighs.

"Kelly?"

"Yes," she whispered. He wasn't sure which question she was
answering.

Slowly, he left her and retrieved the crop from behind the counter.
He sat in front of her, cross-legged. When she looked up, her eyes
widened, but she didn't say anything.

"Would you like to feel this?" He swished it through the air. It
whistled and she flinched. He couldn't imagine any woman being able
to take the pain this would inflict at full strength. Horses, maybe,
but a girl? And yet, he knew that some women might take it,
especially without choice. With pain, yes, but ... he'd used one on
Jane. She could take it. Oh yes. Never at full strength, he would
have killed her, but painful, he was sure. He glanced up, breaking
out of memory.

Not Kelly. Her face had paled, and her entire body had begun to
shake.

"No, please. God, no. I thought ..."

He swished it through the air again, liking the sound it made as it
broke the air like a lightning bolt.

"I'll do anything. I'll crawl for you. I'll ..."

"Kelly, shhhhhh," he remarked gently. She clapped her mouth shut so
hard that he heard her teeth connect.

She shook in terror, as he dragged the tip across her bare thighs,
up her hip, tickling her ribs, which were trembling as she struggled
for breath. Kelly couldn't go anywhere, couldn't back away, not from
the kneeling position, couldn't move her hands, not with the
handcuffs. He touched the underside of her left breast with the tip
of it. She moaned, but didn't move from her position.

"I'll have sex with her. I want to have sex with her," Kelly
whispered. "Please don't hit me. Not with that. Please. Oh God,
please."

Her thighs trembled. The nude girl was feeling the strain of her
position, afraid to say so. Those thighs, striped, angry welts, swam
into his vision. One quick strike, like a snake. She'd scream, but
she'd be fine in the long term, wouldn't she?

Kelly closed her eyes, waiting, her body begging visibly not to be
struck through her tension and pose. He could see her holding her
breath, bracing herself for the inevitable scream issuing forth as
the blow would connect with her, as yet, unmarred thighs.

He inhaled deeply, and lay the crop down harmlessly beside her, its
length lying beside her bare calf, its tip kissing the side of her
left foot. She collapsed in tears, her pent up breath escaping in
an undignified whoosh. Her hands pulled weakly at her bonds.

"Oh God, thank-you. Thank-you. Thank-you," she repeated the words
until they lost all meaning. He wasn't sure if she was thanking him,
or the object of her silent prayers.

"Kelly?"

She looked up, fright on her face.

"I'll do whatever you want. You don't have to hurt me. I swear ..."

"Do your thighs hurt?"

She looked at him blankly for a moment, but then nodded her head.
One can only kneel in strict position for so long without aching.
Her words were quick, though.

"They ache, but I'll stay like this for you. Anything ..."

"Give me your feet."

She looked at him, unsure whether to trust him. The ache in her legs
convinced her to trust, whether she believed or not.

She rocked back slowly, and with an audible sigh, she uncoiled her
bent legs, and extended her bare feet towards him. There were no
complaints forthcoming when he began to play with her toe ring. No
flinch. No retraction of her limbs. He was careful not to tickle
her.

He fished the keys to her locks from his pockets. He felt her tense,
but then relax as he inserted the key into her locks and released
the chain. The chains jangled to the carpet in a useless heap. Can't
push a chain.

After he'd released her ankles, she pulled her feet back towards
her, curling them beside her. He was reminded of a feline, relaxing.
She did it hesitantly, as if she needed permission to pull her toes
from his grasp, but after he didn't stop her, she relaxed more. She
was a little exposed in this position, the view between her slightly
spread legs causing him more of an erection. He nearly told her to
cover herself, but she'd grown less self-conscious, and he thought
he could handle her, this time.

The Timeman stood, leaving her on the floor. Kelly made no attempt
to rise to her own bare feet. She looked up at him, eyes
questioning.

"Do you want to go home?"

She looked puzzled.

"Just like that?"

"If I let you go, then you'll return to your cash register, forget
any of this ever happened. It didn't happen. Not for you."

"You'll let me go? You aren't going to rape me?"

"I said I wouldn't. You aren't my type."

She looked downcast, almost like a school girl, turned down the
first time she'd raised the nerve to ask a boy to dance.

"You aren't going to hurt me?"

He shook his head gently.

She was silent for a moment, the silence of the universe engulfing
them. Only the ragged edge of her breathing broke the quiet.
Finally, she raised her eyes.

"I want to go home."

He crouched, his finger touching her shoulder. She twisted a little
as if to avoid the contact, but the handcuffs prevented her from
moving too far. After a moment, she twisted her shoulders again,
connecting herself with his outstretched fingers willingly.

"I know you won't remember, but Kelly, you weren't my type," he
elaborated. "Not back behind that desk. You are a remarkably
beautiful girl, if you'd let yourself be. The black, it isn't you,
and you know that. Sitting there, being yourself -- even if you
weren't naked and handcuffed. That is my type. I didn't mean to hurt
you."

Kelly nodded slowly. He thought that she just might understand, now.

"I'm sorry," he said simply.

Kelly kissed him then, her lips brushing the edge of his cheek. She
smiled.

Rising to his feet, he urged her to her own bare feet. Her hands
impeded her, but he let her struggle to rise on her own. At last,
she stood proudly, her nudity not bothering her any longer. Her
breasts lifted naturally, without support, her hands remaining
behind her back.

"You are beautiful," he said.

"Thank-you," she murmured, a flush rising again. It disappeared
almost a quickly as it had appeared.

He concentrated, the bubble beginning to retract, he could feel her
presence beginning to fade from the timeline.

"I am bisexual," she whispered.

He smiled, and watched as she faded.

"Good-bye," he whispered to the air that she had filled only moments
before. The handcuffs that had graced her wrists fell
unceremoniously to the carpet with a jangle of metal.

He stooped to pick them up, the chrome still warm from her wrists.

He was going to miss her, he thought, as he gathered up the blue
pack. He considered waking the girl behind the desk to fill Kelly's
void -- she was attractive. But in the end, he simply began to walk
toward the door.

At the door, he turned. He was missing something. He returned to
the desk, bent to pick up the crop. He touched the frozen girl's
chin with the tip. She didn't react. Then he walked back to the
doorway, turning for a last look into the brightly lit adult palace.
The magazine on the floor was open to the kissing girls in the
swing.

He pushed open the door, slipping out into the mall. The handcuffs
jingled against the chains in the backpack dangling in his left
hand.

He had places to go.


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