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Message-ID: <41374asstr$1048198202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [039/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Thu, 20 Mar 2003 17:10:02 -0500
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Author's Shortened Preface:
====================================================================

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

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

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

Chapter 39

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(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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

Slowly, he walked around the classroom, purposely avoiding a certain
student rising from her desk. The teacher looked like she was barely
out of teacher's college, perhaps twenty-six. Her body was trim,
and her brunette hair fell loosely about midway down her back. She'd
been caught a few paces from her desk, her gaze fixed on her chair.

Triangles dotted the chalkboard. A few of the closer students were
busily taking notes while the remainder were either rising, or had
risen and were making their way to the entranceway.

He glanced around. There were a number of pretty girls that he could
use. An Asian girl with long black straight hair was nearly at the
door. A taller girl, her hair short and spiky, but with nice breasts
and long legs, appeared to be ready to slip out of her desk.

The desk directly in front of the brunette girl caught half-way from
her seat had already been vacated -- or had been empty to begin
with.

He slipped into the uncomfortable chair, sitting backwards, resting
his chin on his hands. He finally allowed himself to look at her.

She dressed conservatively in loose jeans, and a T-shirt which hid
her form. He suspected that she was shy of her body, but that it was
nothing to be shy about. The girl wore her hair in a simple braid,
with some hair escaping to tumble down the side of her face. She'd
never be a model, not like Kate could be, but her face had fine
structure, her cheeks and eyes alive and intelligent. She looked
somewhat tall, and slim, her breasts, hidden by her shirt for now,
didn't seem overly large. Not more than a mouthful, but they suited
her frame. Or so he thought.

The girl looked like she might be in a hurry to get somewhere.
Idly, he wondered where she needed to be. She probably would be
making a detour. The thought brought a wry smile to his lips.

"Leigh," he said quietly to her unresponsive face.

He glanced around once more. Slowly, he pulled the gun from the
small of his back, thumbing off the safety. If what Kate said was
true, this girl would probably be smart enough that he wouldn't have
to demonstrate that the gun worked, but sometimes they panicked.
He'd seen that before, too, no matter how smart they were.

He'd have to demonstrate for her, if he wanted her to obey, but not
yet, and probably not with the gun. He mostly wanted to talk to her.
At first.

He concentrated, letting the gun dangle easily from his entwined
fingers under his chin. The bubble extended smoothly, and he felt
the ripple of time pass through him as her space joined his.

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

Leigh continued to rise as if she were still going to rush towards
the cafeteria. Her mind grasped that there was something strange
with the world a moment later, and she banged her knee into her desk
in surprise.

Out of the corner of her eye, a tall, dark man had appeared in
Chad's desk, sitting backwards in the chair. A piece of chrome
dangled from his fingers. Her mind refused to acknowledge what that
chrome was -- this school had a zero-tolerance policy on weapons on
the property.

The silence descended on her like a press, the frozen images of her
classmates haunting her retinas. The only other movement, but for
her own, was the slow pendulum of the chrome from the strange man in
front of her.

Instinctually, she turned towards him, catching her breath.

Yes, he was dangling a handgun. She didn't know anything about
handguns, except that she didn't like them. Not at all.

"Sit back down, Leigh," the man said.

The unexpected sound of his voice startled her, and she screamed.
The scream sounded low and flat.

Instead of sitting, Leigh glanced towards the door. Way too far.
He'd shoot her before she took two steps. She rotated slowly.
Nobody else but Leigh and the gunman.

"What's going on here?" she asked quietly.

He smiled. When she looked down at him, the gun became more obvious.
It looked like it was trained pretty much at her heart.

Leigh swallowed quickly.

"What do you want?"

He motioned with the gun for her to sit. Without taking her eyes
from the weapon, she slipped back into her seat, allowing her books
to fall to the scarred surface of the desk.

"Hands on the desk."

Slowly, Leigh complied, placing her palms on the fake wood of the
top of the desk and spreading her fingers.

"You don't have to point that at me."

He shrugged, but left it trained on her anyway. The barrel seemed to
be pointing more towards her throat, now. Leigh trembled a little.

"How do you know my name?" Leigh ventured.

He laughed. "I have my ways. Aren't you going to offer me money? To
let you go?"

The question seemed odd to Leigh, but she shrugged slowly. Always
slowly.

"I don't have any money. If you want money, then you've kidnapped
the wrong girl."

The gunman laughed and slowly lowered the gun. But it was obvious
that he could train it on her and shoot her well before she could
get to him. She sat quietly for a moment, trying to calm her racing
heart.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Isn't that obvious?"

Leigh glanced around. Just the two of them, in a sea of
motionlessness. She didn't have anything worth taking, except for
...

"Me?"

He reached forward and patted her right hand, still splayed on the
desk. She pulled her fingers back from the touch.

"Smart girl," he murmured. He didn't seem offended by her movement.
When he withdrew his hand, she shifted her hand back to its original
position, visible for him and non-threatening.

"Why me? What's happening here?"

"All in good time, Leigh. All in good time."

She stared at him, hoping that her frightened eyes actually looked
more hateful than she was capable.

After a moment, she broke the stare and glanced down at her fingers.
No nail polish graced her longer finger nails. The length of her
finger nails were about the only concession that she made to
society's norms for female beauty. She wore no makeup, and didn't
dress to kill. She didn't need those things.

"Where were you going?" he asked. His voice carried a note of
threat, even though it was soft and low.

"Lunch," she answered.

He nodded.

"Seemed to be in a hurry."

"Before you waved a gun at me."

He smiled.

"Yes, before I waved a gun at you."

"I was going to meet some friends. Play some Euchre. I guess that
plan is moot, now."

He nodded slowly. He waved the gun towards the front of the class.

"That your teacher?"

Leigh nodded.

"Miss Chambers. She's actually a substitute, she normally teaches
gym class. Everyone seemed to like her. Is she dead? Are they all
dead?"

"They aren't dead, Leigh. Just ... frozen."

That didn't make much sense to her, but it sounded better than dead.

"What are you going to do with me?"

His eyes glowed, as if he had many unspeakable plans for her. She
was sure that he did.

"Don't know yet."

"Yes, you do," she said. "Are you going to rape me?"

He shook his head negatively, and she believed him.

"Then why? Why me?"

He shrugged.

She inhaled deeply. "Whatever it is you want from me or with me, if
you don't tell me, how can I do it?"

"You're doing it already."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Look. I'm scared. And frightened. And I just want to do whatever it
is you want, so you'll let me go. Okay?"

He grinned.

"Would you strip for me?"

She hesitated.

"I thought you weren't going to rape me."

"I'm not."

She looked confused for a moment, but then shook her head no.

"I won't strip for you. Why would you want me stripped?"

He ignored the question, but the gun became more steady, vaguely
pointing in her direction. There was no mistaking the threat.

"If I said that I'd shoot you? Would you take your clothing off for
me?"

"No. You'd have to cut my clothes off, if you want me like that. Or
you'd have to shoot me."

He smiled, as if relishing the thought -- though whether it was the
thought of cutting her clothes off, or the thought of actually
shooting her, she didn't know. She shivered. This man could do it,
she was sure, snipping her clothing off, one piece at a time. Or he
could shoot her, pulling the trigger without a second glance at her.

"I'd scream. I haven't yet."

"Look around, Leigh. You're a smart girl. Do you think screaming
would help?"

"Couldn't hurt. Maybe only this classroom is frozen. You might shoot
me, but you'd be caught."

He laughed. "I won't shoot you. Scream if you want."

She didn't.

"Good girl," he said. "The entire world is frozen. Well, if you
screamed loud enough, perhaps a couple of people might hear you, but
it wouldn't do you, or them, any good."

That didn't make a whole lot of sense either, but she accepted it.
Screaming didn't seem her best option anyway.

"How about something a little more mundane?"

"What? You want me to dance for you?"

She didn't know where the comment had come from, but it popped out
of her mouth before she could stop it. Her fingers flexed for a
moment against the desk. Great. Give the bastard ideas.

He smiled, telling her that she very well might dance for him before
her stay with him was through.

"How about your shoes?"

"My shoes?"

"Would you take off your shoes?"

Leigh glanced down. Her runners were dusty, barely any vestige of
their former colour visible.

"Why do you want my shoes?"

He shrugged. "Better than all of your clothes, isn't it?"

Better than being shot.

Slowly, she used her toes to slip her worn runners from her feet.
The marble tile of the classroom was cool beneath her stocking feet.

"Socks?"

"Don't push your luck," she said as calmly as she could.

She kicked her shoes towards him, watching him. One of her shoes
tumbled into the aisle beside the desk where it sat there like a
lonely dove. He glanced down at the runner and smiled gently.

"Keep your socks, for now."

She nodded. Her belly tightened for a moment, a sinking feeling that
she would be without her socks, and a lot more, before much longer.
Somehow.

Keeping one eye on her, he bent and unzipped a blue backpack that
she hadn't noticed before. His hand emerged with a pair of
handcuffs. He carefully laid them across her spread hands. She
shivered at the caress of the cold metal.

"I'm not going to willingly let you put them on me," she said
quietly.

"Is it worth a bullet?"

She looked up sharply.

The gun levelled again at her temple.

"Shoot me, then."

He sighed, and lowered the gun. She sat still as he pressed the
barrel into her shoulder. She shuddered at the touch, but didn't
move away.

"Have you ever been shot before?"

"No."

"It hurts. Trust me."

"Have you ever been shot?" she tried to keep her voice from
faltering, but her heart was hammering in her chest faster than a
locomotive.

He shook his head. "But I've seen girls shot in joints before."

Leigh paled.

"They screamed. A long time."

She felt like throwing up.

"But at least you'd let me go."

He smiled.

"Oh no, Leigh, no, no. We'd simply start all over again, and I'd
find something that would make you put those handcuffs on."

(Again?)

"What?"

"Be a good girl and put them on."

"If I put them on, then you could do anything to me that you wanted.
I wouldn't be able to stop you."

"Leigh. I can do anything I want to now."

She didn't understand, but she nodded anyway.

"Now, do you want to feel a bullet shatter your shoulder? Or do you
want to do this the easy way?"

She stared ahead for a moment. Call his bluff? Or not? The price
was heavy if he wasn't bluffing.

"How long?"

"How long, what?"

"How long will I have to wear them?"

"Until I let you out."

Leigh sighed. Her mind whirled. If he shot her, she wouldn't be able
to stop him from handcuffing her anyway. Only she'd be in agony, she
was sure.

"You won't rape me? Cut off my clothes?"

"Don't be silly. You'll take off your clothes for me. I won't need
to cut them off."

"I won't."

"You will. But even when you're as naked as the day you were born, I
won't rape you. At least not in a classic sense."

What did that mean? She didn't know and definitely didn't want to
find out.

"So you want to see me in these?" She picked up the cuffs slowly and
dangled them from her right index finger. "If I do this, you won't
hurt me while I'm bound?"

He shook his head.

"Put the gun down."

He hesitated, but moved the weapon from pressing into her shoulder.

She wrapped one of the cuffs around her left wrist, and shuttered
the clasp closed.

"You have a key to these things, right?"

He nodded, and dug in a pocket. He held up a small shiny key. It
sparkled in the lights of the classroom.

She began to close the right cuff awkwardly with her bound left
hand. He stopped her.

"Behind your back."

"No way."

"Leigh, I won't lie to you. I want to see you wearing them. But, it
serves another purpose. If your hands are behind you, then I don't
need this," and he waved the gun in front of her eyes. "You cease to
be a viable physical threat. I can put it away, and stop pointing
it at your pretty face."

She sighed. "You'll stop waving it around if I do this?"

He nodded, placing it behind him somewhere out of her sight. She
was sure that he could grab it faster than she could gouge his eyes
out, but at least it wouldn't shoot her accidentally. Would it?

She sighed again, and awkwardly placed her hands behind her.

"I can't close them back there."

"Yes, you can. Try."

She tried. With effort, she was able to close the right cuff around
her right wrist. She didn't tighten it into her skin, but discovered
that she couldn't remove her wrist even with it loose. She'd never
worn handcuffs before.

"There. Is that enough?"

"Can you get your hands out?"

"No."

"Then it's enough. Stand up."

Leigh hesitated, didn't like following his orders. After a moment,
she pushed herself up awkwardly. To her surprise, as her hands
fought the chain and metal holding them, a trickle of electricity
wandered through her. Her nipples sang, and her clitoris grumbled.

(What the?)

She shifted awkwardly, and stepped into the aisle. Her shoe greeted
her. Her socks felt slippery against the floor.

"What now?" she asked.


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