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Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [054/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
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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

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

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

Chapter 54

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

(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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

"If you cooperate," he said quietly, but his voice reached all of
the players, the tied girls under the nets, and the tops of the
bleachers, "I won't have to hurt you."

Lisa shivered, afraid she might faint. But she didn't, the gun still
pointed at her head

"I ... what do you want?" she asked, her voice squeaking.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tracy, one of her own team, a
defence-girl, bolt and run for the door.

He turned slowly and watched the girl as her shoes squeaked as she
ran, her brunette hair bouncing.

He sighed, and muttered a quick curse.

Suddenly, Tracy tripped. If Lisa didn't know any better, she'd swear
that the girl's feet had stopped dead, for about half a second,
enough to overbalance her and send her sprawling. The girl pushed
herself up, and tried to stand. As if a giant invisible table had
appeared overtop of her, she grunted, and fell again as her back
struck empty air. She cried out in pain.

"Stay," the man ordered Lisa and the remainder of the team as he
moved towards the prone girl.

Lisa considered running, but her eyes were glued to Tracy. The girl
was crying hysterically, and trying to crawl towards the door. Every
so often, she bumped into something invisible, crying out as her
hands, or head impacted. But there was no glass there, or Plexiglas.
Not in the middle of the gymnasium.

Tracy stopped moving as the gun touched her ribs. She looked up at
the gunman.

"Oh God. Oh God, please. I ..."

But he didn't give her time to speak, but grabbed a fistful of her
brunette hair and dragged her, crawling and screaming back towards
the court.

"Leave her alone. She's just scared, like all of us. What's going
on here?" Lisa found her voice, and was surprised it was angry. Her
heart hammered in her chest.

He released Tracy, and she fell back to the floor, her sobs
disappearing into the still gymnasium.

He walked up to Lisa, the gun pointed between her breasts. Lisa's
breath had calmed, and she had a crazy thought that she should go
and pick up the ball that had rolled away from her.

"What's your name?"

"Why should I tell you?"

He smiled. Lisa really didn't like the smile. It scared her.

"Because, I'll kill your friend if you don't."

Lisa swallowed. "Lisa," she said.

"Who's your foolish friend?"

"Tracy. Please. What's this all about? Why are they tied up? Naked?"

"All in good time, Lisa."

He stepped away from her and addressed the team.

"Anyone else want to run?"

The girls quietly shook their heads in unison.

Quickly, he pointed out six girls. Lisa's heart sank when his finger
pointed to her.

"Over there."

Lisa slowly walked to the edge of the bleachers, where the other
five girls had moved at his direction. The remainder of the team
ushered towards Karen, who remained sitting quietly by the change
room. He spoke quietly to the team, and they sat, their legs
crossed, and their eyes downcast.

Karen said something to them, but it was inaudible from where Lisa
stood. The spectators were silent, unsure of what was happening, but
obviously cowed by the gun.

She turned to Kate, who stood quietly blushing under the north net.

"Kate?"

Kate looked up at her, her eyes red from crying. She looked like she
wanted to cover herself, but with her hands tied over her head,
there wasn't much chance of that. Lisa didn't let her eyes stray
from the girl's face.

"Lisa. You have to do what he says. He'll probably tell you to
strip. He won't hurt you, I don't think, if you do what he says.
Please."

Lisa nodded, not understanding, but he was walking towards the six
chosen girls.

"Three here, and three there."

He indicated two spots near centre court, one towards Leigh, and one
towards Kate. The girls quietly spread out to the area that he'd
indicated.

Lisa stared at him as he approached the two groups of girls.

"What do you want?"

The gun was no longer pointed at her, but at the floor near her
shoes. Without answering her, he changed the position of two of the
girls.

"Names?"

"Tracy."

"Anne."

"Tyler."

"Jennifer."

"Kim."

Lisa answered a little differently. "You know my name."

"Ah, yes, Lisa."

She nodded.

"Well, girls, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Either
way, you are going to lose your clothing."

The girls paled as one.

Lisa spoke. "Why?"

Leigh answered from her bonds near the basketball net.

"He likes to see us naked. He's a guy, Lisa. Trust me, just take
your clothes off. It won't kill you, but he might if you don't."

Lisa turned to Leigh, her heart in her throat.

"Here? But ..."

"I know. I don't want to be here either, not like this, but you saw
what he did to Tracy, didn't you? He'll whip her, he'll force her to
have sex with teachers, with everyone in those bleachers. Please.
Just strip for him, if that's what he wants."

The gunman looked smug. Lisa wanted to smash his face.

"He'd do that?"

"He pistol-whipped a girl in the shower, right in front of me."

"He taped cigarettes to my nipples," Karen said quietly from her
place on the floor. She tugged at her handcuffs, but otherwise
remained where she was.

Lisa turned as each of the naked girls talked. She believed them.
God, she believed them. They weren't in charge, were non-consensual
participants in this sick game.

She turned towards the gunman.

"If I strip, will you let us go?"

"After a while."

"Are you going to tie us up?"

"It's all part of the game."

"Are you going to rape us?"

He shook his head. "No, I won't rape you."

"What game?"

Instead of answering her, he walked over to Tracy and wound his hand
back into her hair. He dragged her screaming over to Lisa from the
other side of the court.

"Please, don't. Christ. That fucking hurts," Tracy screamed as she
stumbled along beside him.

He pressed the gun into her cheekbone, just below her eye.

"Oh God, please no."

Lisa swallowed and nodded.

"Don't hurt her. Let her go."

He raised his eyebrows at her.

With a sigh, Lisa reached down and slipped her T-shirt over her
head. It was damp with her perspiration, but it eventually slid over
her head, and she tossed it towards the bleachers. She slipped her
shorts down her legs, and stepped out of them, having trouble with
the sneakers. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the
remainder of the team, both sides, following her lead.

"Satisfied?" Lisa asked, her hands on her hips.

"All of it."

Lisa paled again, jerking her head towards the girls tied to the
nets.

"Like them?"

He nodded.

"Please no. Whatever it is you want, we'll do it, but please, not
naked. Not in front of the boys. Please."

"Naked."

Lisa felt her knees buckle, and she fell to her knees. She looked up
at him. He still held Tracy, fully clothed Tracy. The girl had
closed her eyes, as if she hoped that the nightmare would end if she
couldn't see it anymore.

"Weren't you ever in high school?"

He nodded, unsure of where she was going with this.

"Would you have taken your clothes off in a room full of girls?"

He laughed. "No. But I wasn't out of time."

The remark didn't make any sense to Lisa, but she forged on anyway.

"I'm in my underwear. That's bad enough. I don't know why the other
girls are naked. I really don't. All I want is for you to let me go,
and everyone else."

"Then you better start taking the rest of your clothing off, before
I have to create a new hole in Tracy's cheek."

Tracy moaned, and nearly slumped. He held her up by her hair, and
she screamed before regaining her footing.

Two of the girls began to unhook their bras.

"Lisa," one hissed, the blonde, "he's serious. Kate wouldn't have
stripped for him because she wanted to, and if he can make her strip
... just do it. Please."

Lisa climbed to her feet.

"I'll get you for this," she hissed.

"I know, Lisa," he said. He looked beyond weary -- positively
exhausted.

As she fumbled with the clasp on her bra, he released Tracy who
screamed again. She fell to her knees.

"Tracy, you too."

The fallen girl shook her head in denial. The gun pressed into her
ribs made her rise back to her feet and begin to strip with the rest
of the girls.

Lisa's bra fell to her feet. She had a feeling that she wouldn't be
able to stay turned away from the bleachers forever, but she
cherished every second that he didn't make her turn around.

"Shoes, too?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, but she could have predicted the answer.

With her toes, she pushed her hightops from her feet. She bent at
the waist, pulling her socks from her toes.

When she straightened, she noticed that some of the girls were
already naked, covering themselves as best they could with their
hands. Some were in panties, as she was, and a few were naked but
for their shoes.

"Please?"

He was standing in front of Lisa, watching her take her clothes off.

"Please what?"

"Let me keep my panties? I'm nearly naked."

He laughed, and she looked down. Sighing, she tried to forget that
he was there, and the boys above were there. She'd wake up now,
wouldn't she?

(Please God, let me wake up.)

Instead, she pushed her panties down her legs and stepped forward
and out of them, leaving them with her shorts on the hardwood.

She glanced over her shoulder. Her team-mates were mostly naked,
only Tracy still removing clothing. As she watched, Tracy's panties
joined the growing pile of gym clothing scattered amongst bare feet.

"Please, gather up the clothes."

Lisa gulped, realising that her modesty was about to be challenged.
She would have to turn to face the bleachers now.

Slowly, she moved, trying to keep clothing in front of her nudity,
until she had it all in her arms. The clothes were damp from the
girls perspiration, and heavy. The cloth smelled a little like old
laundry, but that, she supposed, was exactly what it was. Bizarrely,
she hoped that she didn't smell as bad as the clothing in her arms
did, but realistically, she probably did. But for now, the clothing
shielded her.

"Put them over there."

Lisa looked where he was pointing. The bleachers. Of course.

Slowly, she walked over towards the bleachers, feeling the eyes
crawling across her bare shoulders and skin. The hardwood felt odd
beneath her bare feet.

"Here?"

"Right there."

She turned her back on the spectators, and dropped the clothing at
her feet. She stepped over the clothing, and nearly ran into him.

"What?" she murmured as he refused to let her pass.

"Show them."

"What?" Her heart skipped a beat. There was only one thing that he
could mean, and she didn't want to do that. Not at all.

"Turn around. Put your hands on your head. And slowly turn."

"No," she whispered. She could feel a flush hotly in her cheeks.

"Do you want me to shoot Tracy?"

"I don't care anymore."

He began to turn away.

Oh God. Oh God.

"Come back," she whispered.

Smiling, he did.

"It'll be easier afterward. Get it over with. They will see you
anyway."

Lisa nodded, faint.

"Please don't make me do this."

"Leigh was shy, too, at first."

"Leigh, is tied up. She doesn't have a choice."

"Neither do you," he pointed out.

"I hate you," she hissed.

"It doesn't matter."

And she knew that, too.

Slowly, she raised her arms away from her bare breasts, and placed
them on top of her head. She closed her eyes.

A voice from the crowd, a male voice, called out.

"Come on, Lisa. Turn around. We want to see you."

The voice was silenced as the gunman waved the gun towards the
bleachers. Another voice from the crowd, also male, called out.

"Yeah, dickwad. Shut the fuck up. How would you like to be down
there, instead of her?"

The gunman smiled, looking up towards whoever had encouraged her.

"Indeed, dickwad," he intoned. "How would like to strip down here,
instead of Lisa? I doubt if anyone wants to see that, though."

The guy shut up, and didn't say anything further.

"I'm sorry about that," the gunman whispered to her. He was forcing
her to expose herself to her friends, to strangers, and to fools,
but his voice carried a note of sympathy. He hadn't expected the
catcall.

"Oh God," she murmured. She silently thanked the guy who had told
the catcaller to shut the fuck up, and cursed the gunman.

But she turned, her eyes closed, until she thought that she'd done a
complete circle. No whistles. No catcalls, no crashing lightning.
She was breathing hard when she opened her eyes, but she hadn't
fallen into the earth like she hoped. Worse, she didn't wake up.

She'd overturned a little, was facing Leigh instead of the gunman.
She corrected, dancing on her bare feet.

"Please, let me go now?" she implored.

He smiled.

"But we've only just begun."

The tune captured her, and she struggled to push it out of her head
as she walked back to join the rest of the naked team. She envied
the girls that were seated, clothed, by the change room, their eyes
wide and disbelieving.

"We've only just begun."


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