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Message-ID: <43709asstr$1059700202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [134/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Thu, 31 Jul 2003 21:10:03 -0400
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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

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

Chapter 134

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(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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

"What do you want?"

Even as she asked, she knew the answer; it was simple, and obvious.
She trembled.

He answered her with a single word.

"You."

She closed her eyes, could sense him probing her bubble again,
touching her as intimately as any lover, and the reaction to it
manifested sexually even though it wasn't his fingers caressing her
nipple. She shivered.

The visions had fled, but she could still sense them, close and
near. She was Leigh. She was Crystal. Her own tongue buried within
herself, thrusting and caressing. It was a pleasant dichotomy, but
distracting.

"You won't let them go?"

He shook his head slowly.

"At least let them stop. Even you must sense that this isn't
arousing them. The new girls won't climax for you, no matter how
much you threaten them."

"Humans are capable of more than you might think," he said. But he
turned to the bound girls, and simply called, "Leigh? You can stop,
now."

With multiple sighs, the bound kneeling girls rocked back, almost in
synchronicity, and worked the muscles of their jaws, shifting
uncomfortably on their bare knees. Leigh flashed a look of relief
towards Dawn, and it made Dawn feel a little better about her own
situation.

"Will you answer my questions?"

He nodded slowly.

She slipped into Crystal for a brief second, involuntarily, and
moaned. The girl was aroused, more so that she thought was possible
given her discomfort. Her panties felt dry and hot in her mouth, her
own scent filling her nose. Below, where Leigh's mouth had been,
felt empty. Her hips rocked, even as Dawn witnessed it from two
vantage points. Dawn tore herself from the girl, and returned her
gaze to the gun and the Timeman. He waited patiently, watching her
intently, as if he were aware of her travels.

"Will you hurt me?"

He answered her honestly. "I don't know, Dawn."

(He's going to whip me. Like Kate. To break me.)

Dawn shivered, and her sex pulsed at the thought. She glanced over
at Kate, whose eyes had lifted, slightly dazed, but not dull and
lifeless. The girl hurt, without a doubt, but she'd survived.

She glanced again at the gun, then at his face. The Timeman seemed
content to wait for her answer. A precognition slipped past her. The
Timeman couldn't control her -- not through time. He might continue
to whip Kate, and eventually that might work, controlling her
through indirect means, but not if she disappeared into the silent
world, somewhere where she couldn't hear Kate's cries. He was unable
to track her, and unable to find her, not in this silent world. Of
that, she was certain; she could disappear, be safe, away from all
of this. But, he couldn't let her leave. It wasn't that simple. If
she turned away, or even took a step backwards, he would shoot her.
He couldn't afford to do anything else. She didn't understand why,
yet, but her presence here was a danger -- both to him and to all
the girls here. He couldn't let her disappear, again.

"I'll give you anything that you want. Money? My firstborn?"

She was joking about the last, but she needed time to think.
Incredibly, he did laugh.

"You aren't actually a mother, are you?"

The question revealed the depth of his ignorance about her. He
couldn't read her mind. He didn't have any idea of who she really
was. The knowledge warmed her. It didn't help her, but it was
something.

She shook her head slowly. She felt most of the girls' eyes upon
her, envious of her freedom, envious of her clothing, perhaps even a
little awed of her seemingly unique ability to resist, and yes,
frighten, this man in front of her.

She could only resist so much.

"You'll answer my questions?"

He nodded. "Whatever I can." And she believed him.

What she was about to do seemed wrong, even to her. She could see it
in Kate's eyes. She could see it in Leigh's eyes. Her entire being
warned her.

It was as if some higher order was orchestrating this, and she was
merely a pawn. But, pawns could take down kings, couldn't they?

Slowly, she nodded. Her breasts tingled, and her nerves jangled. She
understood what her words meant, what his agreement meant.

Kate began to protest weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Dawn, please, no."

"He'll keep hurting you, and hurting me, until I do what he wants. I
can't bear to watch it again," Dawn said. It was the naked truth,
and giving voice to it surprised her.

"I'll do whatever you want," she said, turning back to the Timeman.
"Just stop hurting them."

(And me.)

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

When he rose again from the backpack, he held shiny metal easily
over his left hand. With a practised ease, he tossed the chrome
towards Dawn, and without thought, almost sensing their arc through
the time haze, she lifted her hand and easily caught the handcuffs.

She stared at them for a moment, and then looked up at him.

(I'll be wearing these soon. Unable to get them off until he
 takes them off me.)

"Do you want me to strip, first?" she asked.

He shook his head, surprising her. She didn't want to take off her
clothes, it would only serve to inflate her already blossoming sex
drive, and leave her even more vulnerable than she felt now, but
ultimately she harboured no illusions. Eventually, she would lose
her clothing as surely as the other nine women surrounding her were
as bare as the day they were born.

She sighed, and began to wrap her left wrist within the cuffs. The
singing of the ratchet drove her helplessness into her mind, almost
like the door of a jail cell slamming shut.

"Behind your back, Dawn."

Dawn hesitated. With her hands secured behind her back, she was far
more vulnerable. His request didn't surprise her. She sighed. At
least, she wasn't naked, yet.

She reached behind her back, her palms brushing across the denim of
her bottom. With a touch of difficulty, she managed to close the
right cuff around her wrist, and the final click of the metal
slammed into her -- complete vulnerability.

A sense of futility and destiny flowed through her. Ever since she'd
finally freed herself from the school's exam room, it had been one
prison after the other -- if it wasn't a frozen door, it was a
frozen person that she couldn't quite make twitch in the guise of
normalcy. This was merely another prison from which she must escape.
Except, she sensed this time that she was meant to be here for a
while.

She pulled against the restraints, and then turned towards the
Timeman.

"I can't get out," she said simply. He smiled, and began to walk
towards her. "What about them?" she asked. "I'm here, I'm helpless,
surely you don't need to keep them like that. It hurts. Trust me."
She could vividly remember being in Leigh's mind, the discomfort of
her arms nearly overwhelming her experience of tonguing another
girl.

The memory of that vision drove needles of sexuality through Dawn.
Eating a girl out, and being eaten out. Both at the same time. She
shivered, and vexed, realised that with her hands bound like this,
she probably couldn't even climax herself. The thought rose from
between her thighs in a dull ache. Her helplessness again whispered
through her limbs.

"I stopped whipping Kate, didn't I? I let them stop having sex over
there?"

Dawn nodded, feeling tears rising to her eyes.

(But the ropes. The bonds. The symbols of your control over them.)

She nodded, realising that he wasn't going to release the girls. Not
yet. And she couldn't do a damn thing about it. Yes, she could
control her own time bubble, but that was about the extent of her
power. Suddenly, it seemed woefully inadequate.

He touched her arm at the elbow, and with a small cry, she twisted
from him. He flashed her a look, perhaps he was used to touching the
girls any time he chose, anywhere he chose. Even this innocuous
touch to guide her seemed far too intimate, especially given that
her hands were pinned behind her, perhaps permanently.

Instead, he smiled and swept his arm, like an announcer introducing
a queen. He began to walk towards the escalator.

She considered refusing to follow, but as he touched the first stair
of the now motionless staircase, and glanced back towards her, she
sighed, and began to move her feet.

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

He stood against the upper deck railing. The railing, for safety,
she supposed, was composed of a top rail of wood, descending to the
floor with unbreakable glass, or clear plastic. He leaned on folded
arms, his toe lightly kicking at the safety plastic beneath the
rail, gazing down to the lower concourse where Kate moaned quietly
still bound to the pillar. The other girls remained on their knees
in front of their naked, spread, and gagged counterparts.

Dawn settled herself on the top step of the escalator, her legs
uncoiled and resting against the harsh metal of the motionless
stairs. It wouldn't have been her chosen position, but he'd told her
to sit, and it hardly seemed the time or place to argue. Her
position against the harsh ribbing of the metal stairs would have
been more uncomfortable had she been naked; her jeans protected her
skin, somewhat.

Her hands fidgeted behind her back, the chain between her wrists
jingling softly. The girls below, except for Kate and the gagged
girls, talked quietly, their feminine tones only tickling Dawn's
ears, their words incomprehensible at this distance. Conversely, she
supposed, the girls wouldn't be able to understand anything said
between her and the Timeman.

She looked up. He seemed moody, but the mindless anger and brutality
he'd displayed while whipping Kate seemed to have been thrust to the
back burners of his mind.

"Why are you doing this to them? To me?"

He turned to look down at her, an amused expression upon his lips.

"Control," he said simply. "I can, and so I do."

She pondered that for a moment. "Hitler did the same thing."

The Timeman nodded, not seeming to be offended by the comment.

"But Hitler didn't control time. There is a fine line here. What I
do to the girls down there is real -- they feel the stroke of the
whip, their arms are aching so badly that they cry. I understand
that."

"Does it arouse you?"

He nodded, but it seemed like his mind was still on the original
question. He almost seemed to want to talk to her about it.
Suddenly, she sensed his mind, could see inside, if only for a
moment. He seemed unaware of this intrusion. She sensed that he was
alone, as much as she, and it surprised her. He surrounded himself
with sex objects, and played, he understood more about this strange
world than she did, but he was alone here -- unable or unwilling to
form attachments that would be doomed to failure and regrets. And he
was beginning to care about them -- all of them, even the girl that
he whipped until she lost consciousness, or perhaps especially Kate.

"When I release them from this time, it will be as though it never
existed. According to all the simulations, it will never have
happened for them. Kate will not even bear the memory of the pain I
delivered into her body, even if she desires it."

Dawn started in surprise. How did he know that the pain had driven
Kate close to climax? That sexually, she reacted to it? Perhaps,
she'd told him? Or did he simply know? Or had he visited her mind,
as Dawn had? Somehow, she knew the latter hadn't happened. For some
reason, perhaps because she was female, only she was drawn into the
others, whether she wanted to, or not. He could sense where his own
bubbles of time lay, but that was the extent to which he saw into
the haze of time.

"It's still wrong," Dawn said quietly. "Absolute power ..."

"... corrupts absolutely. Yes." He stared off and away from Dawn,
his eyes sweeping over the girls again below.

After a while, he spoke again, his voice soft, as though remembering
a time long gone.

"It is simply a very realistic fantasy for them, something that
shouldn't have consequences. They feel what happens here, but their
real lives, to which I will return them, will not be affected."

"Are you sure?"

"Until you showed up, I was sure," he said slowly.

Dawn shivered.

"When are you going to end this? When you kill someone? Whip some
girl so badly that she can't recover? When you have to shoot someone
that feels like she doesn't have anything left to lose? When are you
going to end this?"

He was silent for a long time, and she thought that he wasn't going
to answer her. When he finally spoke, she had to strain to hear his
words.

"I'm not sure I can stop it any longer ..." Then after a moment, so
low that she was really not sure that she'd heard it at all, he
said, "Not alone, anyway."

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

"It arouses you, doesn't it?" Dawn asked, tilting her head upwards.
He remained staring out across the emptiness of the concourse
opening. Below, she could still hear the quiet murmur of the other
girls.

"Of course, it does."

He turned to look at her, and his eyes seemed to pierce through hers
and peel back the protection of her skull, peering into her mind.

Suddenly, she understood, could figuratively see through his eyes,
saw herself sitting on the top stair of a lifeless escalator in her
jeans, running shoes and university sweatshirt, her hands secured
behind her back. Simply a frightened girl. It shouldn't have been
arousing to him, but it was.

"It arouses you even to have me here, doesn't it?"

To her ears it sounded self-indulgent, conceited, but she hadn't
meant it that way. He raised his eyebrows, but nodded.

"Yes, the image of you sitting there is arousing to me."

"Even though I'm not naked?"

"You're in my control," he said. She didn't fully understand, but
she would be willing to admit that his words were true enough. She
was under his control. Mostly. He was quiet for a while, then he
turned back towards her, his eyes intense.

"That's why you're here, isn't it? You don't understand your own
arousal," he said.

She could feel tears welling, her breasts crying out, her clitoris
pulsing. Sex, and what she'd felt through his actions on the other
girls. She didn't even want to admit to her own preoccupation with
sex -- it was dirty somehow. Good girls didn't feel like this. She
had no control over the visions, seemed to be joined to him through
them, no longer a separate being.

He continued. "The simulations warned me, and I ignored it. Sexual
energy -- Christ, that sounds like a bad porn script, doesn't it --
let's try again. I think our hormones are manipulated by time
control, it feeds on our energy, and it manifests through more
sexual arousal, interest, experience. Christ, it still sounds like
some adolescent, juvenile fantasy, doesn't it?"

"Is that why you do this to them?" She meant the girls below, bound
and naked. It explained their frustration beyond what she might have
expected from their treatment. The effects weren't limited to the
manipulators, but also to the manipulated. The girls below felt the
consequences upon their own sex drives as much, or more, than the
Timeman or herself. Suddenly, it hit her like a ton of bricks. The
girls were aware of the effect, in the very least, subconsciously.

He shook his head.

If what he said was true, and she had no reason to doubt him, then
the girls down there were probably as aroused as she was -- perhaps
more so. She conjectured that he hadn't indulged with his captives,
despite every opportunity to do so. She touched his mind, and the
word 'rape' catapulted out in a flurry of denied pleasure. It wasn't
as if the girls would even have objected at this point, but
nevertheless, he hadn't touched them -- and it was killing him. By
extension, it was killing her. She didn't understand the connection,
but if her arousal, even here and now, was any indication, she could
almost understand his treatment of the girls. Worse, if he was
turned on by such treatment, and control, it would have intensified
the time constraints. Despite his denial, she thought that the very
exercise of time control might very well drive this man to the acts
that he performed with the girls, in the same way that she seemed
unable to manipulate a door unless she satisfied her sexual demands
to allow her concentration to blossom.

Even if she didn't understand all the aspects of her situation, the
visions and the strange twists of her journey, at least there was
explanation for her apparent nymphomania. In a strange way, while it
didn't quell her body's desires, it did make her feel better about
her situation. She pulled again at her cuffed hands. As she had
learned to expect, her body reacted to the jingle, and the sensation
of the metal about her wrists. She gasped this time, and he gazed at
her strangely.

"How do you control time as easily as you do?"

She was surprised that he would answer, feeling that perhaps knowing
more about the underlying mechanics gave him an edge over her, a
foothold to help control her. But he didn't hesitate, as she'd
feared. The answer, however, didn't help her. The answer came to her
as swiftly as his understanding of it did. Perhaps it was a
combination of both.

(He's a man. Different hormones.)

"Practice," he offered. And he, at least, believed it.

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

"How serious are you?" he asked.

"Serious about what?" For some reason, her mind leapt to her
relationship with John. And that, my friends, was not serious in the
slightest. Not anymore.

"Serious about giving yourself to me."

Dawn realised with a twist of unease that this was exactly what
she'd done when she'd accepted the handcuffs. She was his -- owned
like a piece of property. The thought drove more tingles into her
breasts, which she really didn't understand. She'd had friends that
had experimented with bondage, and she'd played once or twice with
padded handcuffs, but she'd never really been turned on by power
games before. But in this world, this universe, anything seemed to
spark her imagination. She sighed. Owned. Yes, she could control her
own time bubble, but was that enough when one was wearing the
Timeman's handcuffs?

She shivered. "I don't want anyone hurt anymore than necessary."

"Would you sacrifice your own skin to save, say, Kate?"

Dawn shivered again, wanted to push herself up, handcuffs and all,
and run. He could shoot her, maybe, but he couldn't simply freeze
her. She might make it.

She could see it in his eyes. He wanted her to accept, wanted her to
agree to her own debasement. It represented a control unlike that
control that he enjoyed over Kate, and Leigh, and Andrea.

"You want to whip me?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

"Would you trade places with Kate, right now, if I asked?"

Dawn sighed. Her mind fought with her body, arguing with hormones
about as useless as arguing with a brick wall. She closed her eyes,
feeling the lashes of his whip striking her skin. It wasn't as if
she'd never felt, vicariously, the sting of his whip before.

Slowly, she nodded.

"If you must, I'll let you whip me."


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