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Message-ID: <41205asstr$1047359405@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [031/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Tue, 11 Mar 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 31

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(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

====================================================================

Karen shivered intimately as Kate's tongue slipped easily between
the folds. The taste of Karen, of another girl, that she'd dreaded,
wasn't nearly as bad as she'd imagined -- sweet and musky. Somewhere
in her mind, she knew the geography; the knowledge of her own sex
gleaned from fingers, private fingers, translated into an intimate
knowledge of Karen. Karen was different, oh yes, but not so
different as to confuse the kneeling girl. Her geography, her map,
wasn't all that different: vaginal opening, inner lips, and swollen
despite her protests, her clitoris.

Kate inhaled deeply; Karen's scent filled her lungs. Kate's vagina
clenched, causing a deep groan. She shivered, hoping that the
Timeman hadn't seen the goosebumps. He would take her shiver for
something that is was not.

(Isn't it?)

Slowly she let her tongue explore Karen again, tickling her inner
lips, and swirling around the girl's clitoris. A circular motion of
her tongue caused Karen to cry out above, oblivious to the audience,
pulling against the ropes holding her. Her legs remained apart,
though her thighs were trembling beside Kate's face.

Kate could feel the tears slipping from her eyes, but she didn't
think she was crying.

(I'm crying?)

Suddenly, his voice appeared, hot against her ear. She nearly
stopped her ministrations, but continued at his words.

"If she doesn't climax, I'm going to start giving her
encouragement."

(Encouragement?)

Kate tried to back away to ask what he meant, but he gently forced
her head back into its original position, buried between Karen's
thighs. Kate moaned, pulling against her own bound wrists.

(Encouragement?)

Naked. Helpless. Forced to lick Karen.

(Karen?)

Kate's clitoris begged for attention. She squirmed a little on her
knees, trying to adjust, trying to reduce the heat simmering below.
The grass caressed her feet as she shifted. Instead of reducing her
arousal, the slight motion and the shifting position only served to
crank up her heat. Kate moaned again, her voice muffled by Karen's
sex.

(Aroused. Christ. She's Karen.)
(Who cares?)
(I DO!)

Kate's tongue stopped teasing and though she didn't really know what
she was doing, she let her tongue stroke over Karen's clitoris,
trying to read the girl's voice and small movements. Somewhere in
her subconscious, she heard the man speaking above.

"Three minutes, to climax, or ..."

She heard Karen cry out in pain above her, knew that the gunman had
slapped a breast -- because he could. Kate could sense Karen crying
above, but then her body descended a little, and Karen's hips were
pumping, gently, guiding Kate's tongue and lips.

Two minutes and thirty seconds passed, Karen's breath coming more
rapidly above Kate. Small animal sounds, panting, issued from
Karen's throat as she concentrated. Kate's tongue fell numb, but
still she used it. Her fingers, useless, remained behind her, unable
to assist her mouth.

"Thirty seconds," his relentless voice said quietly.

"God. Oh God. Please," Karen's voice rose from the fog. Her hips
rocked faster against Kate's tongue.

(Suck)
(No. Oh no.)
(Suck)

Her lips formed an 'O', her nose nestled into Karen's blonde curls.
She allowed suction to settle around Karen's clitoris, and the girl
exploded, her hips nearly knocking Kate backwards into the grass.
Karen's climax came without voice, until she finally cried out, a
long scream, more like an animal than human, her vaginal muscles
cramping and relaxing where Kate's tongue had been. When Kate
thought Karen was finished, she rocked back on her heels, face
flushed, nipples aching, and the scent of Karen coating her lips and
nose. She wanted to drag her hand across her lower face, only
because of the wetness, but her hands remained restricted behind
her. She pulled ineffectually against the ropes.

Karen's knees buckled and she fell against her restraints for the
second time, her breathing ragged, her face flushed.

The Timeman maintained a smirk, and Kate purposely averted her eyes.
Her vagina was crying out, and her breasts, even the one that Darren
had tormented, glowed with a satisfied flush. She desperately didn't
want the gunman to see her; she tried to force her own arousal from
her body.

His fingers appeared at her elbow, and she slowly climbed to her
feet with his help. She refused to look up, to gaze at him. He
didn't force her, merely moved behind Kate and began to release her
hands. Soon, her wrists were freed, and Kate rubbed at her wrists,
glad to have the use of her fingers again.

Kate struggled to control her breathing. When she looked up, Karen
had regained her feet, moved them back together. Her face was
flushed, but her breathing seemed to be almost back to normal.

"What was that?" Karen whispered.

"Stress," Kate said. "I think."

With a touch of his fingers to her bare shoulder, the gunman urged
her towards Karen.

"Let me guess. You want me to kiss her, now."

Kate massaged her wrists. Rope marks imprinted into her skin there.
She suspected that she would have to get used to rope marks on her
skin. She carefully passed the back of her right hand over her lower
face and chin. Karen's moisture had mostly dried, and truthfully,
Kate didn't mind as much as she thought she would.

(Do you want to kiss her?)
(I don't think so.)

Kate stepped forward, ready to kiss Karen.

"No. You don't have to kiss her."

(But ...)

"Thank-you," Kate whispered, her face beginning to flush again.

"Just untie her. And don't tangle the ropes."

Kate didn't ask why the gunman didn't cut the girl free, or why he
didn't untie Karen himself. She moved towards Karen's bound breasts
and began working at the knots. Her apprehension about touching
another girl's bare breasts seemed far and distant, now.

Unbinding Karen took a long time, or at least it seemed so for Kate,
but as each rope fell to the grass, Kate could see Karen relaxing
more and more. The rope marks on Karen's body were far tighter than
those on Kate's wrists, and Karen had audibly cried out when her
breasts had finally fallen free of their restraint. But, at last,
Karen stepped free from the birch that had been her prison, rubbing
at her wrists.

Kate dropped to her knees, her freed fingers gathering up the ropes
that littered the grass around her.

While Kate carefully coiled the ropes that she'd removed from
Karen's body, the gunman led the blonde girl to a tree perhaps three
metres away. Without protest, Karen sat in the grass, pulling her
bare legs up, and allowed the gunman to handcuff her hands behind
her and around the tree. She pulled against the metal for a moment,
but then leaned back against the birch and lay her head back, blonde
hair spilling over her shoulders.

"Stand."

Kate looked up, fear returning to her eyes. She carefully lay the
last loops of rope into the grass and slowly climbed to her bare
feet. A few strands of the rope pressed into the arch of her left
foot. She absently stepped away from it, towards the gunman.

"I suppose it's my turn, now."

(My turn for what?)

He pursed his lips as if considering her fate. Kate, resigned,
waited, her hands brushing her bare thighs. After a moment, he
guided her silently to the tree to which Karen had been tied. Kate
idly wondered why he hadn't simply tied her to another tree and left
Karen tied to this one. She mentally shrugged as he turned her.

The papery bark of the birch scratched at her bare back and
buttocks, but she didn't complain. She glanced down; the cigarettes
lay by her left foot, duct tape still attached. She would suffer
whatever he had in mind. Resistance would land her and probably
Karen into a boatload of pain.

Gently, he drew her hands behind her and around the tree. Divots in
the bark of the tree testified to its former occupant's stress; Kate
was sure those divots were put there by Karen's fingernails --
though in response to pain or pleasure, she didn't know.

As the ropes began to lash her, she fought her body's responses.
Her nipples, and her clitoris screamed for a touch, even the air
tickled her. She groaned, which her captor mistook for a sign of
discomfort.

"Too tight?" he asked.

She pulled at her wrists. Was he tying her elbows? Christ. She
couldn't remember if Karen's elbows had been tied or not.

"Yes. Does it make any difference?" she replied.

He laughed, and continued to tie her. She didn't resist, though she
was sure that she'd tear her shoulders out of their joints if she
moved too much. Maybe that was the idea.

Again, she groaned, as he began to wrap rope around her breasts.
This time the groan was a mixture of discomfort and arousal. He
looked at her almost knowingly, but finished off with a bow between
her jutting breasts. Kate thought that her breasts were a little
tighter than Karen's had been, but she didn't complain. They ached.

Her vagina howled at her, and her nipples ached.

(Please no. I don't want to be aroused. NO.)

"Shall I tie her feet?" he mused, almost under his breath.

Kate thought it was a rhetorical question, but spoke anyway.

"You don't need to. I won't kick you, no matter what you do to me,
but if you want to tie them, I'll hold still."

He looked up, as if in surprise, as if he hadn't expected her to say
anything, that he hadn't expected to be heard. He grinned, and then
shook his head.

"If I told you to spread your legs?"

"I would. I don't want to, but I would."

Her feet stood primly together, her toes making a single line. Her
toenails weren't painted, unlike Karen's.

He nodded, accepting her words.

"If I wanted to spank you between the legs?"

Kate paled, and pleaded quietly.

"Please, don't."

He smiled enigmatically, and turned away from her. Kate pulled
weakly against her bonds. He'd tied her belly to the tree, the rope
pulling back her midriff. Another rope passed under her arms and
above her bound breasts, holding her upper body securely to the
tree. If her knees buckled, she'd fall as Karen had, but she'd stay
upright. Better than the chain. She wouldn't strangle, at least. Her
arms ached, and her elbows felt like they were in the wrong place.
The tree didn't seem to mind holding her.

"You don't have to hurt me," Kate said.

The gunman turned back towards her. His eyes travelled her body, for
the first time that Kate could remember. He'd always kept his eyes
on hers, not ogling her. Even this cursory exam, seemed more in
appreciation of her form bound for him, than to make her
uncomfortable with her nakedness.

"No?"

Kate shook her head, her hair kissing her cheeks as she did. She
wanted to push it back out of her face, but settled for tossing her
head in a practised motion. Most of her hair settled back away from
her eyes.

"I'll do whatever you want. I'll fuck you, if you want. You don't
have to convince me."

"I know."

"You want to hurt me?"

He shrugged.

"Then why?"

"I want to control you."

She laughed, and was rewarded by a flush into his face.

"I let you tie me naked to a tree in front of you, and you want to
control me?"

"Silly, isn't it?"

She nodded, couldn't help a smile. Then the thought of what he might
do to her while she was tied nakedly to this tree intruded, and the
smile faded.

"My breasts hurt," she whispered.

"I know," he said. "Not for much longer."

With that, he turned, and began to walk back towards the smoking
area, stepping over its yellow marks like a Godzilla over Tokyo.


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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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