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Message-ID: <40992asstr$1045786202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [024/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Thu, 20 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 24

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(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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She hadn't realised that she was as upset as she was. Her voice was
choking, no matter how hard she tried to control it. Her eyes leaked
tears, and she couldn't do a damn thing about it with her hands in
handcuffs.

"I think I was beginning to love him," she whispered.

She looked up.

He'd moved closer, sitting immediately across from her. He gently
wiped at her cheeks. She shied away from his touch, but eventually
gave up as he moved forward to follow her.

He looked at her.

"Boyfriends come and go, especially at your age."

Easy for him to say.

She snuffled, and resisted the urge to continue in self-pity. She
willed the tears to stop.

"But with Karen?" she asked.

"Do you hate her?"

It was an odd question.

Kate shook her head from side to side as she spoke.

"No. I don't hate her. Or him, for that matter."

The man nodded, as if understanding what she was saying.

"Do you love him?"

Kate considered. It was only a few dates, and the guy had been fun.
If she was honest with herself, she was far more upset that he'd
left her for Karen, rather than the other way around. She was upset
at him for not being honest with her.

She shook her head firmly.

"I don't think so."

He retreated from her, back under the tree, his back pressed against
it. For the first time, Kate noticed a bright blue backpack sitting
at the base of the tree. She presumed it was his; she'd never seen
it before.

"That's it. That's why I was sitting out here by myself. Karen
wanted to go for a smoke. I don't smoke, and I just wanted to be
alone. Then you showed up. Nobody ever hangs out at the front of the
school."

"Smart girl."

Her confused face must have prompted him to elaborate.

"Smart to want to be alone, and smart not to smoke."

"It stinks," she said, suddenly hoping that he wasn't a smoker and
would be offended.

He shrugged easily.

After a while, she gathered her courage, her voice small and barely
above a whisper.

"Are you going to kill me?"

He smiled.

"I promised to tell you, if you told me, didn't I?"

She nodded. In the intervening time, she'd stretched her legs out,
the grass tickling the underside of her thighs. A sense of fatalism
descended on her. She cared, but she didn't. If he wanted to rape
and kill her, she was frightened, but it was probably going to
happen.

He slowly shook his head.

"No, Kate. I have no intention of killing you, or anyone else that I
free."

(Anyone else? Free?)

"Are you going to hurt me?"

"Are you going to cooperate with me?"

"Within reason, I suppose. I put these damn things on for you,
didn't I?"

"Within reason?" He laughed. "There is no reason here, my girl."

That didn't make a lot of sense, but she tried to make herself
clearer.

"I won't kill anyone else for you," she said.

He nodded, a look of understanding on his face.

She broke the silence again.

"So you won't hurt me if I cooperate. Does that include rape?"

He smiled. "I won't rape you. You're honour will be intact if you so
choose."

Her honour, as he put it, had been taken long ago, in a more
experimental time in her life. But he didn't need to know that.

She looked at him expectantly. He continued slowly and carefully. He
glanced at the gun, as if expecting her to rise, despite the
handcuffs holding her wrists, and attack him.

"I can't promise not to hurt you. I might, but it won't be anything
that you can't handle."

That scared her, her face losing its colour. Her clitoris pulsed,
  (Why?)
  but she pushed away the sensation. She didn't want
that. Not here. Not from this stranger. God, no.

(From Darren then?)

She shook her head in denial, aware that the man was watching her.

"Please, you don't have to hurt me. You don't have to make me wear
these, even. I'll do pretty much anything you want. You don't have
to hurt me," she whispered.

He nodded.

"I know," and it seemed like he even believed her.

"You want to hurt me, don't you?"

The thought had entered her head in a rush, and she'd merely
verbalised it before she could really think about it. She watched
him expectantly.

He didn't answer, but rose and walked to where she sat. She shied
away, almost as if expecting a punch, or a strike to her unprotected
face.

Instead, he reached down and grasped her elbow gently.

Kate struggled to rise, using him for support. At last, she stood
unsteadily on her feet. Her balance, normally good, was affected by
her arms held uncomfortably behind her.

"How do you do it?" she asked.

"Do what?"

She glanced around, her mind trying to grasp what surrounded her.

"The world?" he asked her.

She nodded.

"It's just you and I," he said slowly. "The world is asleep, because
I made it sleep."

That didn't make much sense to her. Instead, she focused on a
specific.

"That car. The BMW out there."

He nodded, following her gaze. "You mean the one with the twerp in
gang colours behind the wheel, stereo blasting to cover his
inadequacy?"

She shook her head, not understanding, but believing that he was
right.

(How can he know these things?)

"It hasn't moved," she observed.

He smiled. "Nothing has moved in the last three hours, except you
and I." It wasn't strictly true, but she had no way of refuting the
statement.

"You stopped the world," Kate said incredulously.

"Actually, the universe, I think."

Her mind swam at the enormity of it.

"If I scream. Nobody will come, will they?"

He shook his head. "You want to try."

"Will you shoot me?"

"No, Kate, I'll let you scream if it makes you feel better."

But she knew in her heart that it would accomplish nothing, except
maybe to irritate him, and make her throat sore.

"I believe you."

"Smart girl."

She suddenly saw herself in her mind's eyes, as she must have been
when he stopped the world, sitting under the tree. It wasn't quite
clear yet, but she was beginning to understand how he had sneaked up
on her so easily.

"What will happen to me when you let me go?"

Not if. When.

"You'll return. All of this will disappear, for you."

"For you?"

He shook his head. "I'll remember, but you won't. Sometimes I think
that's a blessing."

She thought so to.

"How?" she asked simply.

Instead of answering, he spoke quietly: "Turn around."

She hesitated, wondering what he was going to do. The world hissed
silently around them. He waited patiently for her, and eventually
she obeyed. Something pressed into her fingers, and she jumped,
whirling.

He held the blue backpack out, its canvas top strap obviously what
had touched her fingers. Not him. Not his penis. The backpack.

"I'm sorry," she said. She turned back around, this time ready for
it.

The backpack was heavy and she thought that she could hear clanking,
metal on metal, from within. It was awkward, carrying it behind her
back, but she managed. She wondered what was in it. Something told
her that she really didn't want to know.

"Where's the smoking section?" he asked quietly.

"Around behind the school."

"Let's go," he said, his hand gently guiding her by the elbow.

She balked, resisting the pressure of his hand.

"Why do you want to go back there?"

(Karen was back there.)

"I don't think you want to know that."

With a sigh, Kate began to walk, the backpack swinging and touching
the back of her thighs as she moved. After a time, his hand lifted
from her elbow, and she walked unassisted through the grass towards
the back entrance to Kresner Collegiate, leading the way, aware that
he was watching her walk.

                         <---===***===--->

He took the backpack from her fingers as they stood on the asphalt
of the school yard behind the school. The smoking area was
delineated by bright yellow lines, like lane markings, painted upon
the blacktop.

Students and faculty stood, most smoking here, puffs of white smoke
frozen being exhaled, or surrounding heads like a haze over the
moors in Scotland.

Kate couldn't smell any of the carcinogenic particles, and for that
she was glad. It was unusual for her to be anywhere near this
section of asphalt.

She dragged her attention towards the stranger, who was rummaging
through the pack. She spied bits of wood, rope and a flash of chain
from within, before he blocked her view unintentionally with his
body.

She stood with her back against weathered brick, its surface rough
and warm through her shirt. Her fingers idly explored the texture
of the brick behind her, the metal of her handcuffs scraping against
the red clay and mortar.

He seemed truly apologetic as he rose, a piece of chain dangling
over his right palm.

"I'm sorry, but there isn't any easier way."

She eyed the chain suspiciously, sure that it was about to
supplement her restrictions.

"Why?" she ventured.

"I don't want you interfering."

She considered that for a moment.

"You could let me go."

He laughed, but reached forward, his hand tickling for a moment
before tangling in her hair.

Kate cried out as he bent her, tugging more or less gently on her
hair. She could feel the chain beginning to encircle her throat.
Without thought she began to struggle.

"No!"

He eased up on her, but didn't release her hair.

"Kate, I thought we were over this."

She shook her head, sure that her movement was transmitted to his
grasping hand.

"I'm not going to let you choke me, you bastard."

She felt him cringe at the term, and was suddenly more afraid.
Instead of the anger she expected, he spoke gently.

"I'm not going to choke you, just restrain you."

"By the throat?" she spoke desperately towards the asphalt between
her feet.

He eased up the pressure on her hair, and she rose little by little.
His hand remained in her hair, but the threat diminished as she
stood. The chain pulled through and away from her neck as she rose.

"See that?"

She took a great inhalation of air, and looked where his finger
pointed. A white pipe, little more than an electrical conduit,
traversed the wall a little above her head. It was loose where
they'd stopped; she could see the screws withdrawn, and the gap
between the pipe and the wall.

"The conduit?" she said.

"I'm going to run this chain from that to your throat."

She had an image of a bear, collar around its neck, dancing for its
supper. She shook her head.

"You don't have to do that." She thought for a minute. "You could
tie my feet. Then I couldn't run, right? You don't have to chain me
up like an animal."

He pondered that for a moment, but instead of answering her, he
yanked the gun from his waistband again. She paled.

The barrel kissed her cheek, and she thought her knees might buckle.

"Kate, you see. I want you chained. Do you understand?"

Afraid to speak, she merely nodded, her cheek dragging against the
warm steel of the gun.

"Please," she whispered.

When he next urged her to bend, she did so, shivering as the chain
was draped over the back of her neck. She could see it dangling
over her shoulders.

He adjusted it, slipping a padlock through two links to form a loose
circle about her neck. She wouldn't be able to slip her head from
the loop, but it wasn't choking her as she'd feared.

(Another thing I don't have the key for.)

After urging her again, with her hair, to stand up, she did. He
reached up and looped the chain over the conduit, and secured it
with another, smaller, padlock. She watched as he dropped the keys
into the front pocket of his jeans.

She pulled against the leash gently. Oh no, that conduit wasn't
going anywhere, and until he released her, she wasn't either.

"Why?" she asked him, trying to keep the waver out of her voice.

The yellow markings of the smoking area fell squarely between her
feet.

"Because, I want you like that," he said simply.

She didn't understand, but it wasn't uncomfortable, the weight of
the chain reminded her that it was there, but unless she pulled, or
fell, it wouldn't impact her breathing.

He walked away from her.

"You aren't leaving me like this, are you?"

He didn't answer her, but continued walking.

One tear escaped her, rolling down her cheek, eventually finding her
chin and dropping free to moisten her shirt just above the swell of
her breasts. Her nipples throbbed, once, and she willed that
sensation away.

She watched as he moved into the smoking area, his eyes intent.


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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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