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Message-ID: <41792asstr$1050203404@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [052/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Sat, 12 Apr 2003 23:10:04 -0400
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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 52

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(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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

The bleachers rose like a coliseum, rows of uncomfortable, ridged,
metal seats, stepping up towards the ceiling. Leigh felt a little
like she imagined the Christian's felt like, moments before being
devoured by lions.

Kate stood beside her, metal chain looped around her arms, glinting
in the glare of the overhead lights. Leigh looked down at her own
arms, a similar bundle of chain resting there. The chain wasn't
binding her -- he'd released the girls, all except Karen, from their
handcuffs soon after they'd entered the gymnasium. She still felt
self-conscious, being nude in the gym, with all the frozen
spectators, but there was precious little she could do about that.
Until he let her wear clothing again, she was going to be walking
around bare-assed.

The chain weighed heavily in her arms, but not as heavy as she
thought it should be. Fifteen locks hooked into the links near her
left hand. She could certainly lift the length of it -- the links
seemed to be light gauge, perhaps even aluminium. She wondered
where he had procured this stuff.

The chain wouldn't hold a charging bull, it was far too light for
that, but it would hold a struggling girl -- or boy -- she supposed.
She shivered. She'd probably feel the bite of this chain around her
limbs at some point before all this was over.

She glanced over her shoulder.

He had settled, with Karen at his side like a naked, human, pet,
onto the floor near the women's change room. His hand rested easily
on her bare thigh. He was talking to the naked girl curled up beside
him, and she shook her head once in a while, as if denying his
nefarious plans. Leigh couldn't hear the details, not from here.

The top three rows of the bleachers held perhaps twenty boys, all
decked out in gym equipment. Some were watching the basketball game,
but most were occupied with speaking to their neighbours. A
sprinkling of girls most in gym dress -- shorts and t-shirts -- also
sat amongst the guys. Most of the girls actually seemed to be
watching the game but with bored expressions on their faces. Leigh
had the uncomfortable feeling that they wouldn't be bored for much
longer.

Leigh stepped up on the first riser, the small ridges in the metal
tickling the bottom of her foot. As she moved, Kate mimicked her.
Leigh could feel the gunman's eyes resting on her back, following
her, even as he continued to talk to Karen, his murmuring voice
reaching her through the otherwise silent world.

The metal of the seats was rough and cool against her bare feet.
She climbed three more risers, and stood nakedly in front of the
first guy in the row. Some trick of his position made it seem like
he was watching Leigh's bare breasts.

Ignoring the sensations of exhibitionism, she lowered the weight
from her arms onto the stair upon which she was standing. It clanked
as it snaked and coiled at her feet. She heard another clank from
the opposite side of the bleachers where Kate was doing
approximately the same thing, but on the top row at the opposite
side.

Carefully, Leigh locked one end of the chain to the protective
handrail, and began to lock one loop of chain securely around each
frozen leg. She recoiled from touching the first few students, the
cold, dead sensation from the out of time flesh sending spiders
crawling up her spine.

(And I wanted to touch one, before.)

She sensed life in the students, but only a hint.

Loop. Lock. Loop. Lock.

Male. Male. Male. Female.

The girls legs were more pleasant to work with, smoother and without
the frozen hair that made tightening the chain more difficult with
the males.

She had three locks remaining in her fingers when she bumped into
Kate working in the opposite direction. The girls stood, and quickly
fled the eerie bleachers. When they reached the bottom, he was
waiting, gun in hand, his other hand carrying two pairs of
handcuffs. The gun wasn't aimed at the girls, but its threat
continued to make Leigh uneasy.

Karen remained curled up where he'd left her, seated quietly against
the off-white painted bricks beside the girls change room door.
Leigh couldn't tell if she'd been refrozen, or was simply lounging
quietly, glad that he wasn't paying her any attention.

Leigh was surprised that she was breathing hard, her breath coming
in raspy bursts. She handed him the extra locks. He tossed them
carelessly towards the blue pack which rested near Karen on the
hardwood floor.

Leigh shivered.

"Ugh," she said.

Kate echoed the sentiment.

He smiled, probably aware of the unclean feel of the frozen people.
It was likely why he'd made the girls do his dirty work in the first
place.

(Why tie up frozen people?)

"Hands."

Automatically, Leigh put her hands behind her back.

"No silly," he said. He touched her upper arm. "In front, this
time."

Leigh looked up sharply, but gratefully pulled her hands back in
front of her. He snapped the cuffs on her wrists efficiently, and
did the same to Kate.

"I don't want to seem ungrateful, but why in front? This time?"
Leigh asked.

It felt odd having her hands visible while having to wear the
handcuffs, though nice, in comparison to the alternative.

He smiled in answer.

"Can either of you whistle?"

Kate looked at Leigh, confusion on her face.

(Whistle?)

"Like Roger Whittaker?" Leigh asked finally.

He laughed. "I didn't think anyone else knew about 'ole Roger. Puff
the Magic Dragon, and all that."

"My parents ..."

"... played him all the time. On 8-track. I know," he finished her
thought.

"Actually, it was on cassette, but yes."

He grinned. "No, I meant, whistle to get people's attention."

Leigh shook her head. She could barely strike a low note with her
lips. A shrill whistle, almost like a scream, drilled into her ears.
Automatically, she raised her bound hands, trying to cover her ears,
but not quite managing it with the chain between them. Panicked, she
glanced at the gunman. The gun wavered, pointed at the naked girl
beside Leigh. Leigh began to say something, something reassuring and
calm despite her racing heart.

He was going to shoot Kate, right where she stood, grinning like the
schoolgirl that she was. Either she realised the danger and was
seeking to diffuse it, or she simply didn't realise how close she
had come to feeling what it was like to take a bullet in the chest.

The shot didn't emerge. The image of a bloodied Kate lying on the
floor, her hands still cuffed, didn't appear.

"I can," Kate said unnecessarily.

"Jesus," he said. "I can see that." It looked like he was trying to
calm his heart, almost as much as Leigh was trying to calm hers.
"When I tell you, can you do that again? With some warning? I damn
near shot you."

Kate soberly nodded, the grin fading at his words.

"We may need to get some attention in a few minutes."

(Oh God. You don't tie up frozen people.)

"Please," Leigh said quietly.

He turned towards her.

"What?"

"I. I don't want to be like this in front of all those ... boys."

He laughed.

"Oh, you won't."

"I won't?"

He smiled evilly.

"No, you're going to be tied naked to the basketball nets. In front
of them."

Leigh paled.

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

They came alive with a thunderous roar of confusion. Leigh remained
with her back to the bleachers, but she suspected that her modesty,
what little left there was, wouldn't be around much longer. She
raised her cuffed hands to try to cover her breasts, at least
marginally. The boys were going to get a view, that was certain. No
matter what she did. When he tied her to the net, it wouldn't be
nice and modest. Oh no.

Her heart raced, but somehow, calm descended.

Her sex pulsed, but she managed to quell that. Kate looked faint
standing beside her.

He nodded at Kate.

Kate parted her lips, slightly, and blew. A shrill whistle, the
sister to the one that had nearly surprised the gunman into shooting
her, pierced the air.

Slowly, the raucous diminished. A few gasps emerged from above. The
rattling of the chain filled the atmosphere of the gym.

He touched the girls' bare shoulder, and reluctantly, they turned
around to face the crowd of now bound spectators.

The gunman sauntered to the first bleachers, stepping up to address
them. Kate and Leigh stood quietly behind, shifting their weight,
trying to ignore the sudden audience.

All of their eyes riveted to the gun as he stood quietly regarding
them. He waved it, amused as they shifted to watch it move through
the air. The chain rattled noisily as a girl pulled at her bound
ankle.

"Now that I have your attention," he said quietly, "we can begin."

"Just what the fuck do you think you are doing?"

The voice came from one of the bigger boys, sitting in one of the
front benches.

He turned towards the speaker. Slowly, he walked up the steps until
he stood in front of the boy. The boy stood, his fists clenched at
his side.

(Hit him. Now.)

But the boy didn't swing. The gunman, even standing down one riser,
still stood eye to eye with him. Slowly, he traced the gun down the
boy's cheek. Leigh knew what that felt like.

"What the fuck am I doing?"

The boy nodded slowly; his body was shaking.

The gunman paused for effect, then said in a barely audible voice:

"Anything I want."

The boy opened his mouth, and then clapped it shut. The gunman
slowly reached forward, his finger pressed into the base of the
boy's throat. Slowly, the boy sat back down.

"You can't tie us like this," the girl beside him said quietly.

He crouched in front of her, the gun aimed at her shoulder.

"I can't?"

She shook her head. Blonde tresses dragged across her shoulders.

"What's your name?"

"Beth," she said. Her voice wavered. "Please, I don't want to die."

She was female, her tears not a source of embarrassment. One fell
unheeded down her cheek. Leigh thought that she might be upset at
herself that she'd spoken at all.

"Beth," he repeated. "I can shoot you, if I want. I can shoot tubby,
beside you." She appeared to want to protest his reference to the
boy as "tubby", but kept her mouth shut. "I can make you strip like
them," and he waved vaguely towards Leigh and Kate, "I can shoot you
in the elbow, or knee, or head. What are you going to do about it?"

She looked, for a moment, like she was going to be brave. Beth
glanced around, but her friends were examining their laps, loath to
attract the attention of a guy with a gun.

"I'm sorry," the girl mumbled instead.

He nodded, and stroked her cheek with the barrel of the weapon. She
flinched, but he followed, dragging the steel down her face, down
her throat, and across her left breast before releasing her. As the
gun left her, she raised her hands to her face, and wept.

He ignored her fear, and rose to his feet. Slowly, he walked down
the bleachers to the lower rungs.

He turned to the crowd, its silence eerie.

"We're going to play an unusual game," he said with a smile on his
lips.


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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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