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Message-ID: <44159asstr$1062191403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonq@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [155/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Fri, 29 Aug 2003 17:10:03 -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 155

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(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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

She closed her eyes, the darkness unchanging whether her eyes were
open or shut. She blinked, groggy.

Her breasts ached, as if someone had whipped them. Between her legs
pulsed slowly, a heat waxing and waning. She could feel tongues and
fingers there, caressing her.

She moaned again, suddenly angry at the handcuffs, angry at herself
for waiting like a damnable slave for him.

(I'm saving them. Somehow.)

She relaxed and tilted back her head.

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

The visions flipped into her, almost like a dream, images from the
past, but strong and complete, colourful, and arousing.

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

Nicole danced alone, beckoning her, a squirrel chasing its tail,
scampering bold and certain between Nicole's ankles.

Freedom, and sunshine.

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

Monique moaned in ecstasy, her fingers entwined in Andrea's hair,
holding her close, rocking her hips towards Andrea's sweet mouth. A
shaft of sunshine peeked through the closed blinds to kiss her
breasts, shiny with perspiration and passion.

Freedom, and sunshine.

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

Andrea stood smiling and naked upon the grass. She passed her hands
behind her, miming security and control. Sunlight lit her shoulders.
She tingled, and faded, into another time, another place.

Freedom, and sunshine.

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

Both of them stood, tears falling slowly down their faces, kissing
gently. Dawn felt the kiss of leather upon her breasts, her hands
rattling her handcuffs, aching. The whip lay coiled about Leigh's
ankles, Kate bound with course rope to the gate out front of the
mansion. Sunlight glinted off Kate's red hair like a flame.

Freedom, and sunshine.

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

The darkness faded, and she opened her eyes. There was a difference
now, the void in front of her lit dimly from above. He stood over
her, a shape in the darkness.

She pulled up her legs, groaning as they complained. She couldn't
remember the last time she'd slept sitting on a packed earthen
floor. Her shoulders ached, and her thighs cried out.

Such strange dreams.

"Are you all right? I'm sorry it took so long," he whispered.

She blinked, and shook her head, her hair tickling her shoulders and
back. She tried to rise, and fell back, lightly cursing under her
breath. She'd forgotten the handcuffs.

"Give me a moment," she breathed. She sensed him back away.

"What happened to the light?" he asked quietly.

She leaned forward, feeling sick.

(I don't want to throw up. Not here. Not yet.)

"Shattered."

He didn't ask how, perhaps sensing within her a reluctance to help
him understand.

He stepped forward, and a shard of light bulb shattered like a shot
under his runner. He cringed, but leaned close. He gently lifted
her, and she relaxed, her hands pressed between her back and his
arms.

"You'd cut your feet to ribbons," he murmured.

He set her back on her feet at the base of the stairs. She wavered a
moment, then caught her balance.

"That's what I was concerned about, too."

She looked up the stairs. They rose like a passage to heaven. She
wouldn't miss the cellar. Not in the slightest. But it had been
necessary, hadn't it?

"Are they gone?"

"Completely," he said. She sensed a deep sadness in his voice, far
beyond anything that she'd expected.

She turned to look at him, but the dimness of the place concealed
his features from her. She thought she saw a hint of moisture upon
his cheek, but he turned away before she could look closer.

With a sigh, she placed one bare foot onto the rough plank that
served as stairs, rising for the last time from the grave.

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

"Do you want clothes?" he asked her.

It didn't matter anymore. She was naked, he'd seen her this way --
he'd seen her frustrated, and screaming. There wasn't much to hide.
It seemed frivolous.

He faltered, and touched the railing. They stood in the silent
foyer. She kept expecting a feminine voice murmuring out of the
living room, or bare feet whispering across marble. But there was
none. She could sense that, only two tennis balls spinning lazily in
the haze somewhere beyond the realm of her normal vision -- her and
him alone in the universe.

The only female here was her, now; she sensed it as clearly as she
could see the stairs rising onto the second floor, or see her bare
toes curled into the marble under her feet. She rattled her
handcuffs, almost to remind her that she was still wearing them.

"Nicole has jeans and shirts, I'm sure they'd fit you," he said.

She shook her head, and he looked away from her.

He fished around in a pocket and made to step around her.

Again she shook her head.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I've worn them this long."

He looked absurdly grateful, and put the key back into his pocket.

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

They walked together through the garden. She was aware of her
nakedness, as she was his attire, but it didn't bother her any more.
The grass beneath her feet caressed her bare skin, sending shivers
down her spine.

They stopped at the elm, and Dawn sighed, slowly kneeling and then
finding her customary position in the grass.

She looked up. The dragon still seemed to retreat from the girl. He
settled across from her against the elm tree.

"Will we ever meet again?" Dawn asked quietly.

He still didn't look at her, regarding the sky instead.

"I don't know, Dawn."

They were quiet again. A gentle breeze, like a lovers fingers,
caressed her breasts, sparking desire deep in her being.

"I'm not sure how this is supposed to end," she said.

"Me, either."

She hesitated, her mind warring with her body. Her thighs trembled
for a moment, gooseflesh rising despite the warmth of the air.

"I would have had sex with you," she said at last. "Still would. I
don't mind. It wouldn't be rape. Not between us."

He nodded as though understanding. He lowered his eyes from the
clouds to capture her eyes. Slowly, he shook his head.

"I want to, with you more than the others."

"I'm the last woman on Earth," she said, a smile finding its way to
her lips.

He laughed. "I think, that we were -- meant to find each other."

"I know."

"And," he said slowly, "you're so beautiful sitting there."

"Naked."

"No, you'd be beautiful with your clothes or without them. It
doesn't matter. There's something more."

She shivered, and drew her knees up. She awkwardly propped her chin
on her knees, aware that he wasn't looking at her anyway, but rather
over her shoulder, far away.

"I'd make love to you," she said in a whisper.

Again, he shook his head, tears shining there, but not spilling.

"It's over," he said at last, pushing himself up.

Her breasts moaned, and her vagina clenched, unspoken desire racing
through her body. She waiting, and tried to ignore his touch as he
helped her to her feet.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they began to walk.

"Home," he answered. "I hope."

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

"I shouldn't be here," she said.

He stood across from her, his hands clasped in front of him. He
shook his head.

"It's dangerous. This place, it ..."

"Fantasy," she said slowly.

"Yes. Not real, but real enough."

"What is fantasy?"

He paused for a moment, then lowered his eyes to find hers again.

"Consequences."

She nodded slowly, and let her breath out. The handcuffs jingled
behind her back.

"Are you sure you don't want ..."

He nodded, though she thought that if she asked him again, he might
take her. She pressed her lips together and sighed. She didn't ask
again.

"I'm consequences."

"You control time."

She nodded. She could sense his time bubble, but it had shrunk to a
proportionally sized spinning tennis ball, weary and exhausted,
holding a universe upon its shoulders. It was no longer a planet,
or a sun, or a galaxy, but only slightly larger than hers, as he was
slightly larger than she was physically, spinning through pink haze.
She sensed threads spinning around her, entwining, separating,
beginning and ending.

"I'm not supposed to be here."

He sighed, and looked at her again.

"I think, maybe you are."

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

"We can't meet ... over there," he said.

She nodded. "I don't even know who you are."

"It's better that way. Consequences."

(He knows who you are.)

"I won't seek you," she said slowly. But she didn't know if that was
the strict truth. Everywhere she'd look, she'd see him, in crowd, in
theatres, on buses.

"And I can't seek you," he said. And she believed him. Perhaps, it
would be more dangerous for him to seek her than for her to seek
him. She didn't understand why, but she sensed the truth in it.

She looked up, her eyes wet with tears.

"This is the end, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"It has to be."

Indeed. It had to be.

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

She felt the touch of his time bubble against her, intimate and
close. A lovers finger slid gently over her nipple, and then down
her tummy to her thigh. She sighed, and pulled against her
handcuffs, her wrists twisting gently, squirming.

Automatically, she willed her reaction back, not wanting to push
against his influence, letting him reach into the waves of time,
leaving her to ride. Her body clamoured at her, begging for release,
begging for some sort of satisfaction.

The universe wavered for a moment, and she felt tingles in her
fingertips; then it snapped back, with almost an audible snap.

"I can't," he said softly.

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

She closed her eyes, seeing herself as he did, a petite girl, naked,
surrounded by a field of grass, her bare feet planted firmly, her
wrists captured behind her back.

She gathered the threads around her, ignoring the steady beat of her
pulse in her breasts and between her legs. She cried out, her voice
projected to the uncaring blue sky above. It hurt, but it didn't.
She trembled, feeling his bubble dwarfing under hers, dissolving.

His to create, hers to destroy.

She thought she heard the sigh of five girls in her ears, Nicole,
Monique, Andrea, Leigh and Kate.

Through the mists, she saw his image waver, and then he smiled.

"Until next time, little one," he said, his voice more in her head,
than in the air between them.

Then he faded, and she sensed tingling in her hands. The symbolic
handcuffs fell from her wrists, but didn't touch the grass,
dissolved as if a whirlpool had sucked them into oblivion.

She cried out, not in pain, but in wonder, as the tingling spread to
her arms, and into her body, warming her, lighting the darkness.

She felt herself falling into a bottomless void.

"It's over," she whispered. "I am the key."


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