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Message-ID: <41793asstr$1050203405@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [053/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Sat, 12 Apr 2003 23:10:06 -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 53

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(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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

Leigh watched quietly, turned away from the audience, as he led Kate
to the north basketball net.

"Please, not like this," the girl whispered.

He smiled, and ignored her. Leigh watched as he carefully threw a
length of rope over the net ten feet above, and looped it around the
chain between Kate's wrists.

He raised her arms with the rope until she stood, arms overhead,
body vulnerable.

"Please," she whispered again. Leigh was sure that the girl's
begging could be heard in the silent bleachers, but Kate didn't seem
to care. Her face flushed a bright red.

He knelt at her feet.

"So you can't reach," he said. It didn't make any sense to Leigh,
but another length of rope encircled the girl's ankles.

He rose, and inspected his handiwork.

"The cuffs hurt," she said.

"Then you better hope they're fast," he said.

"Who?"

Without answering the nude girl, he returned to Leigh.

She couldn't help it.

"Please, no. Not like that."

"Would you prefer to give the spectators a blow job each?"

Leigh shook her head, and didn't resist as he led her to the
southern net.

"Why like this? Why in front of them? I've done everything you
asked. I've been a good girl."

He shrugged as he tossed a rope over the rim of the net. It settled
over the support and he tugged it down towards her wrists.

"Because, they need some incentive."

That didn't make sense either, to Leigh. How could she be incentive?
She didn't know, but her heart hammered even faster. She remained
turned away from the crowd, her hands against her breasts. He
touched the chain between her wrists.

"No," she hissed, and held her hands tightly against her bare chest.
"I can't."

He stepped back, smiling. "Kate did it."

Leigh nodded. The girl was visible, crying under the opposite net,
her hands extended above her, her body available for the teenage
population of boys to see. It seemed like nearly all of them were
staring at the helpless girl, though a few were watching what was
happening to her, or glancing at Karen, still seated naked across
the room.

"I can't."

He sighed. "I really didn't want to start shooting them."

"Who?"

"Beth? The tubby guy beside her. The boys up there, that you so
kindly tied up for me. I could do it from here." He turned easily,
and aimed at the first row of student. They shrank back, and ducked,
nearly in synchronicity, but none of them were going far without
their ankles.

Images of blood, and the shiver of death, infused Leigh.

A tear escaped.

"Please, just refreeze the boys. Please. I don't want them to see me
like this. I'll let you tie me ... like her ... just not with boys.
Leave the girls, if you have to. Please."

"I'm a boy," he lowered the handgun and turned to face Leigh.

"You ... it's different. Okay? Leave the girls awake, just not the
boys. They ..."

"... probably like looking at you."

Leigh nodded miserably.

"The boys are staying."

"Oh God, why?"

He shrugged.

Leigh considered running, but in the end, finally, extended her
hands from her breasts. The boys looked at her as she did, and she
lowered her eyes, aware of every male ogling her nudity.

(How can girls become strippers? Pose for Playboy? Please.)

Her sex tingled as she exposed herself, but she allowed him to loop
the rope over her wrists. They rose until she felt the metal digging
into her wrists. The position would become unbearable, quickly. Her
arms weren't used to being pinned like this.

"How long?" she whispered.

He shrugged. "Depends on how fast they are."

"Who?"

But she knew he wouldn't answer her.

He knelt, and he almost gently wrapped rope around her ankles. He
didn't clinch it, and she relaxed as he stood. She couldn't part her
ankles, couldn't wiggle free, but there wouldn't be those awful rope
burns, this time. She glanced up at her hands held above her head.
Her cuffs were a different story. There would be marks there. She
raised up on her toes, realising the effect that would have on her
legs, but she didn't care. Her wrists loosened, if only for a
moment. Her calves screamed at her, and reluctantly, she reapplied
pressure to her wrists as her heels rested back against the hardwood
beneath her.

She twisted as best she could as he ran his finger down her throat,
and traced across the top of her right breast. He smiled, but
allowed her to pull away. He pulled his hand back, and she returned
to a more natural stance.

The damage had been done though -- her nipples ached at the touch,
and she could feel her clitoris beginning to sing again. She moaned,
trying to stop the sensations.

(Miss Chambers licking Janice. And me. Please no.)

(I'm so fucking wet. From one fucking touch. To my breast.)

She opened her eyes again. He was smiling at her, as though he could
read her thoughts.

"Wish nipple chains would reach between you."

(Nipple chains?)

She glared at him, and with a smile, he turned away from her. He
wandered through the various girls still frozen in various positions
around the court.

When she looked back up, he was in front of her again, waiting for
her attention.

"Blondes or brunettes?" he asked quietly.

"What?"

"Blondes or brunettes?" he repeated.

Leigh's confusion registered in her features.

"Please, I just want you to let me down."

She could sense the boys watching the exchange, couldn't do a damn
thing about it. Her wrists hurt, and her legs ached from standing in
this position.

"Then pick. Blondes or brunettes."

"What for? Please."

He smiled.

"For your team, of course," he said, as if she should know exactly
what he was talking about.

Leigh took a deep breath, felt her breasts rising as her chest
expanded. She let it out in a sigh.

"Are you going to hurt them?"

"Not much."

"Pistol whip them?"

The image of Candice, still squirrelled away in the shower hammered
Leigh again. She moaned. Despite her fear, and embarrassment at her
position, her sex was still singing.

He shook his head firmly. "I won't pistol whip them. I promise."

She didn't know if she could trust his promises, but didn't see a
lot of choice in the matter.

(What did he want blondes and brunettes for?)

(Stupid question.)

"Brunettes," Leigh said, hoping that she hadn't sentenced more girls
to torment.

He smiled, and touched her own deep brown hair. She tossed her hair,
and it left his easy grasp.

"Blondes for Kate, then."

He turned, a faint look of concentration on his features.

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

The girl dribbling the ball stopped as the brunette, naked and in
handcuffs, her bare ankles tied with rope, standing under the net,
appeared in her vision. The ball hit her foot, and rolled unnoticed
off towards the stands. Off to the right, a girl screamed.

The sounds of basketball shoes skidding to a stop on the hardwood
filled the air.

The girl under the net looked like ... Leigh Cook. Slowly, the girl
turned around, her eyes taking in the silent, but still unfrozen
spectators, not noticing the chains that held them to the bleachers.

She recognised Kate, standing like Leigh under the north net, her
hands cuffed, her body naked right down to her toes. Another blonde
girl, Karen, sat quietly by the change room. Her breasts were
visible, her arms behind her back.

The girl rubbed her eyes, blinked. But the scene didn't disappear.

She didn't know that soon, she would be as naked as the tied girls,
and tied herself, facedown on the floor, playing a different game
than the basketball game that had just ended. One far less
comfortable.

Her breath rasped in her lungs, her body unaware that she'd been
resting for quite some time prior to being unfrozen.

She was blonde -- not brunette.

The man appeared in front of her, the gun aimed at her temple.

She finally screamed.


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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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