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Message-ID: <41393asstr$1048284603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [040/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Fri, 21 Mar 2003 17:10:03 -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 40

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(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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He'd been silent for a while. The corridors were in the same
condition as the math classroom -- silent and eerie. Leigh shivered
as she walked in her stocking feet, slightly ahead of him. She knew
most of the students caught in some state of frozen animation. She
wished that she had been allowed freedom of her hands so that she
could touch one of the frozen people.

(Was I like that, too?)

But the handcuffs kept her hands out of action, for now, and she
walked along silently, listening to her own soft footsteps and the
tapping of his running shoes slightly behind her.

"Where's your locker, Leigh?"

She jumped a little at the sound of his voice.

"Why?"

"Because I want to see if you have any money tucked away there."

She stopped, and turned to face him. She was acutely aware, for some
reason, of her handcuffs and her stocking feet. Vulnerable.

She was a tall girl, but he was taller still. She approached five
foot nine, but he easily topped her by five inches, maybe six. Of
course, without shoes, she seemed that much shorter. She looked up
into his face.

"I told you, if you want money you've got the wrong girl. My
parents can barely pay their bills, much less a ransom."

He laughed.

"I was kidding Leigh. What would I need with money? I could walk
into any bank in the land, and take whatever I wanted. Nobody to
stop me."

She bit her lip. That made sense. That only left her as the prize.
And she didn't like that. Not one bit.

"I won't let you rape me. You'd better have tied me down a lot
better than this," she rattled the handcuffs behind her. "I'll bite.
I'll kick. I swear, I'll hurt you."

He smiled gently. "I'm sure you would, Leigh. I'm not going to rape
you. Strip you, yes, but rape you? No."

He really didn't seem perturbed by her claims to be able to hurt
him.

"I'm not going to let you strip me, you know."

He nodded. "I know."

It looked to Leigh like he was counting on resistance. She didn't
like the thought of that, but she wasn't about to let him cut her
clothes off, either. And she sure as hell wasn't going to
striptease for him.

"I won't."

He nodded, and gently turned her.

"Locker."

She turned left, past the girl's bathroom, and past the yearbook
planning room. Her locker was in the orange bank beside the English
department. This corridor was fairly clear of frozen students, most
either in the cafeteria already, or still stuck in Miss Chamber's
math class. Three girls gathered near the end of the locker bank.
Leigh recognised them, but only in passing.

Leigh silently wished that she was still in class or in the
cafeteria, too.

"That's it, there."

She nodded towards the dented locker. Some of her friends had dented
it as a prank. She sighed, remembering the guys hammering on it with
a textbook until the principal chased them off. She'd only remarked
that it was tough to see her locker. It was easier to find it, now.

"Combination?"

She hesitated.

"You have to be kidding. You're handcuffed there, you can't open it.
And what do you care if I see into your locker? I don't want to
break into it. Do you?"

"12, 43 and back to 55."

"Thank you," he said. He lowered the pack to the ground, and then
his fingers were spinning her lock.

Nobody else in the school, except the front office, knew her
combination.

In a moment, her locker door swung open. She leaned against the
opposite locker bank and watched as he riffled through the contents
of her locker. She didn't care. There wasn't anything of value
there. She didn't have anything of value: only some pictures
fastened with magnets to the door, and some school supplies, and
books. She had no idea what he was looking for.

Her bound hands pressed into the small of her back as she waited.

(I'm handcuffed. In school.)

Her nipples reacted, but not badly. She willed away the sensations.

(What the hell are you? A masochist?)

She didn't think so -- never had fantasies along those lines before.

(Fantasies about what then?)

(What he's doing. To me. But as HIM.)

(Then why are the handcuffs turning you on?)

(They aren't)

(Mhmmmm)

She shook her head in weak denial. He had risen and closed the door
to her locker. He wore an odd expression on his face, like he had
read her mind. She blushed.

"What were you thinking about?"

"If you'd ever let me go."

"I don't think I have a choice."

That wasn't an answer, but she didn't pursue the issue.

"Sit," he ordered her gently.

"Why?"

"Suit yourself. I just thought you'd be more comfortable."

He lowered himself to the floor. The lock on her locker dangled
unclasped from its hole. She watched it swing as he slid down her
locker.

After a moment, she carefully slid down the opposite locker, her
bound hands trying to guide her. She didn't know if she'd be able to
get back up, but she supposed that she could if pressed. She tucked
her legs beside her.

"Who are these people?"

He held up a picture, one of the few that she had under magnets
inside her locker. The sight of it in his hands made her angry, a
little. He didn't have any right to see it.

"Summer camp people. My family, and friends."

"Any from school?"

"Janice goes to school here."

He pointed at a slim girl, not as tall as Leigh, in the photo.
Leigh nodded.

"Can you put the picture back, please?"

She had a feeling that he wouldn't, that she really didn't have much
say in what happened with her and to her and her property. He was
toying with her, giving her a sense of normalcy in this strange
world.

"Why do you have it here? Stuck up in your locker?"

She hesitated. It wasn't any of his business, was it?

"They were happier times."

"You don't get along with Janice?"

Leigh nodded slowly. "No. I get along with Janice just fine, still."

He nodded. She watched as he twisted around, released the hanging
lock, and slipped the picture back under her magnet. She honestly
hadn't expected him to give it back to her. He closed the locker
again, and then shuffled towards her.

He held out the purplish bottle towards her.

"Will you wear some?"

She sighed. The bottle represented, perhaps, the most expensive
possession she had. She'd bought it because she liked the smell, and
a few boys in the group she'd been with in the mall had told her
that it suited her. Not boys she liked, but boys who normally didn't
notice her. This and the nails, the only real illusions to her
femininity.

She nodded, acquiescing to his request. She suspected that she
didn't really have a choice here, but that he'd allowed her one. If
he'd wanted to, he could have poured the contents over her head,
overpowering her with the fumes, and she couldn't really do a damn
thing about it. But this time, if she'd refused, she suspected that
he would have simply replaced the bottle in her locker.

The musky odour of the perfume wafted to tickle her nose.
Forgetting the handcuffs adorning her wrists, she automatically
tried to reach for the bottle.

With surprising gentleness, the guy with the gun touched the bottle
to his finger and applied only a hint to her throat. His touch sent
an involuntary shiver down her spine, and she willed it away. She
could imagine those hands closing around her throat just as easily
as applying perfume.

He carefully capped the bottle and slipped it into his pack. Her
Poison disappeared as he zipped up the pack.

(Hey! That's mine.)

(And it's going with you. Wherever that is.)

He settled back against Leigh's locker.

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

"Time control."

"What?"

"Time control. Everything, but you and I, is frozen in a time shift.
I control it. I control everything, in a way. What happens here,
doesn't."

Time control. That sort of made sense, though she couldn't
understand how he was controlling it.

"I was like them?"

He nodded, confirming what she'd already guessed.

"You freed me?"

He nodded again.

"Why? Why me?"

"You ... interest me."

She wasn't popular, worked hard to ensure that. She didn't join the
clubs, avoided friends. Friends asked questions, and wanted to come
over for dinner, didn't they?

"I'm not the best looking girl in the school, you know?"

"Are you the smartest?"

"Probably not."

"Would you rather if I searched out, say Kate Robertson? And took
her instead?"

The question unnerved her. Made her think. How did he even know Kate
Robertson? Leigh barely knew her. Well, everyone knew of her, but
girls like Leigh didn't socialise with girls like Kate, even if
Leigh was more ... into making and keeping friends.

Slowly she shook her head. She wouldn't wish this situation on her
worst enemy, much less any girl in this school. Kate was beautiful,
got any guy that she wanted, but Leigh didn't hate her, or begrudge
her her looks.

"How do you control time?" Leigh asked carefully. She doubted if
he'd tell her.

"Combination of thought and matter and space and time. It's not a
simple thing. Even Einstein got some of it wrong."

"Oh," she remarked. The physics was above her. Perhaps not in a few
years, but high school physics was ... limiting. Youth had its
disadvantages, sometimes.

"How long are you going to keep me?"

He smiled and didn't answer her.

"Are you going to kill me?"

She shivered. The thought sent bolts of fear down her spine. She'd
told him to shoot her in the classroom, but she didn't want to die.

"No, Leigh. I'm not going to kill you, or rape you." His voice was
infinitely patient, though she sensed that he might not have the
patience of a saint. He was testing her, she thought.

"Why do you have me then? What's the point? Why am I here?"

"I wish I knew."

"You don't know?"

He shook his head. The thought that he didn't know unsettled her a
little. She felt off balance -- wondered if that was exactly how she
was supposed to feel.

"Let me go? Please?"

"Not yet. Not yet."

She sighed. This conversation was going around in circles.

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Have you strip."

She didn't deny it this time.

"If you aren't going to rape me, why do you want me unclothed?"

"Why do you think?"

"Typical male?"

He nodded. "Girls look better without their clothing."

She shivered.

"Do you want to do this the hard way? Or the easy way?" he asked
quietly. She sensed that this was the crux of the issue. He was
giving her a chance. All she had to do was strip for him.

She shook her head.

"I'm not going to take my clothes off for you."

"The hard way," he said. He didn't sound disappointed. "I had a
feeling that would be the case."

"I'm not," she said with conviction.

"I know, Leigh. I know." He sounded tired. Exhausted, actually.

With that, he signalled the end of the conversation by rising. She
envied him his mobility as he motioned for her to rise to her feet.

She struggled with her hands, off balance both physically and
mentally. The cuffs impeded her. The bastard made no move to help
her.

At last, she crossed her ankles, and rose easily in one fluid
motion.

"I'm up."

"Are you scared, Leigh?" he asked.

She hesitated, glanced down towards her feet, wiggled her toes.

She slowly nodded, her eyes finding his. Surprised, she sensed
wetness forming in her lower lids. She blinked the unshed tears
away. Yes, she was scared. Out of her mind. But she'd survive. Had
to.

"Why can't I have shoes?" she asked quietly.

He smiled. "First step, Leigh."

That didn't make sense to her, but she suspected that it was a
reference to his insistence that she strip. Her removing her shoes
to the threat of the gun, was her first step to removing all her
clothing. She wished that she hadn't removed her shoes at all,
though she thought that maybe he wasn't hurting her, yet, because
she had. He would have shot her shoulder, if she'd refused. Somehow,
she knew. She felt helpless, and frustrated. Her nipples throbbed
in the background.

He murmured one more thought.

"I thought that you'd be more comfortable without them."

And strangely, she thought, she was. She hated shoes anyway.

He motioned her forward, and she stepped in front of him. Her socks
felt odd, in the middle of school. Not normal, and almost taboo. But
she walked forward anyway, one foot falling in front of the other,
her feet whispering as they walked.


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