Message-ID: <42096asstr$1051330209@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net> X-Original-Message-ID: <20030425172942.23077.qmail@nym.alias.net> From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 25 Apr 2003 17:29:42 -0000 Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [065/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon} Date: Sat, 26 Apr 2003 00:10:09 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2003/42096> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, gill-bates -----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- ==================================================================== 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 65 ==================================================================== (C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com) ==================================================================== Dawn lay, breathing hard, but still concentrating on the book in front of her. The cover was ripped in two places, probably where it had collided with the wall above the headboard when John had chucked it at her head. The book didn't help her, except in the therapeutic way that reading had always helped her. Hawking was brilliant, and if he were awake with her now, his wheelchair sitting across the room, and his scratchy voice synth echoing in her head, she had no doubt that he could figure out the mechanics of this strange and silent world. But Hawking wasn't here, was he? She was alone, lying on her bed, tired from the walk here, exhausted from the simple act of releasing and opening her own front door. Thank God, she hadn't closed her bedroom door this morning on her way out. She'd had to squeeze through, her breasts rubbing at the doorframe uncomfortably, but she had made it. Thank God, she wasn't overweight either. Her legs disturbed the air as her bare feet swayed. Her eyes never stopped scanning the pages. Every so often, her fingers flipped a page, and she would sigh. Her belly rumbled, and she wondered what, and how, she would eat. <---===***===---> She cried out as first one, then another, stripe of pain seared into her breasts. (Oh God, no.) Involuntarily, she screamed out in pain and frustration, curling up into a ball. Hawking's text rattled off the edge of the bed as her arm brushed it, clunking to the hardwood in a solemn heap. (No. No. No. No. No. I didn't try to merge. I didn't.) (Too late, Pandora. Too late.) Her wrists seared pain into her; it felt like her entire weight was hanging from her hands, pinned far above her. (To a basketball net????) A name floated to her out of the haze of red, hot pain in her breasts and wrists. Kate. It was a familiar name. The girl from the cigarette visions, on the bench. Her mind had a familiar kiss, like that of a lover. (Christ. Christ. Christ. That hurts.) Kate hadn't screamed, somehow, even with the two strokes from the crop. Dawn had. (Crop???) (Kelly.) "Please don't hit me again." "Why ever not?" (Because I'm a fucking human being, and I hurt?) "They're tired, and scared. They're trying goddamn it." (Who?) "Tracy stopped. I even warned her. Twice." (Tracy??) "She can barely move. I'll take the punishment. I will. You know that. I don't have a choice. But she can't move anymore. Let her out." (The pain isn't important, Kate. Tracy can't take much more.) Screaming, and cradling her breasts beneath her sweatshirt, Dawn yanked herself out of the vision. Drawing her legs up to her breasts, she hugged herself and cried. <---===***===---> (Not again. Please not again. My poor breasts.) Her wrists actually hurt a great deal more than her breasts did, though she could see an angry red stripe slashing across her bare breasts when she glanced down with Kate. She couldn't control her crying, or shaking, trying to rise up on her toes to alleviate the pressure on her wrists. But her ankles were tied, and that made it so much more difficult. Her calves screamed at her. (Her breasts? Not mine. They don't even look like mine, slightly bigger, larger nipples and younger. And a thin red stripe slashing across them. Oh, God.) Through eyes blurred with tears, Dawn could see another naked girl, hands tied above her, ankles bound with rope. The Timeman approached her, lightly waving the crop. (Leigh. Leigh Cook.) (Where the hell did that come from?) In a flash, Dawn realised that the girls, both Kate and Leigh, were tied the same way, that her wrists were in agony because she was practically hanging from metal handcuffs, as Leigh was. Tied to damn basketball nets. He seemed to be talking to Leigh, his back turned to her. Without warning, the crop struck Leigh, though only once. Across the breasts. Of course. A tingle of sensation cavorted through Dawn's nerves, and Kate's. (Oh God. Oh God.) In the real world, Dawn snatched her hand from her own lower lips, caressing gently through her jeans, but it had felt sweet. Oh yes. He hadn't swung the thing as hard as he had against Kate's breasts, but Leigh screamed anyway. Dawn, cradling her own protected breasts, sympathised with the bound girl. (Why was he hitting them?) (Someone stopped. Simple.) Dawn drew in a sharp breath. Six other girls, all pretty, all naked, and all horribly bound in hogties were slowly rocking across the hardwood floor of the gym court. Each had a look of determination on her face, to match the grimaces of obvious discomfort. (Six? Lisa needs to touch my foot?) Leigh wailed, as if she were being tortured by the Spanish Inquisition. All girls had different tolerances to pain, Dawn knew, and she was sure that Leigh felt exactly like that. A witch, strung up to be tortured into confession. Her tormentor said something to her, and stepped away and towards (bleachers? the audience??? Oh, God.) the stands, where Karen sat quietly watching the game. The vision faded without Dawn's interference. Her bedroom swam back into focus. Her breasts still stung, and she was sure that if she lifted her top, that an angry red stripe would be across the top of them, perhaps another gracing the curve of the skin on the bottom, despite the impossibility of the crop having reached her here. She didn't lift her top, but sat quietly, trying to concentrate, not searching for the bluish haze, and trying to prepare for the next tug. It wasn't over, she was sure. Her breathing rasped in and out of her lungs. <---===***===---> The pain remained in her breasts, but it was fading. She sat uncomfortably in a hard plastic chair. Her ankles felt strange, the familiar, and yet unfamiliar, tug of metal (hobbling) restricting her movements. Her ankles were sore from misplaced, and overextended steps. The girl wasn't used to walking in a hobble. Dawn wasn't either. She was naked, again, her hands handcuffed behind her back and behind the chair. Kate sat across the table, her hands in handcuffs, her face pale and frightened. "With your fingers, Kate." (Fingers?) "Why?" "I'm already handcuffed, naked, tied into the chair by my fucking ankles, feeding her. Please let us at least eat like normal human beings." "Would you prefer to eat without your fingers? Or perhaps off the floor?" (Like a doggie?) "Please, no." Kate slowly picked up a small piece of lettuce, and touched Dawn's lips. (I'm Leigh, not Dawn.) Leigh hesitated, echoed by Dawn. In the silence of her bedroom, Dawn parted her lips, a stab of hunger rumbling through her belly. The lettuce was sweet and cold. Leigh chewed slowly, savouring each flavour of the food. Dawn swallowed, though nothing but saliva satisfied her real hunger. (At least he was letting the girls eat.) (At least he wasn't hitting them any more.) (Doesn't he ever let them dress?) (Why would he?) She pushed, and returned fully to her bedroom, her bottom against the soft covers instead of the hard plastic of the cafeteria chair. <---===***===---> (Ugh.) Something dripped from her hair, and dropped gooey to her bare shoulder. The sharp odour of vinegar permeated her nostrils. She gagged at the sensations. Curiously, she could taste chocolate. "Oh God. That is so gross," Leigh whispered. "Yuck," Kate echoed. Dawn couldn't agree more. Then came the ketchup, squeezed in a single line adorning her aching breasts. Vinegar, sharp and invading overrode the more pleasant aftertaste of the chocolate. A dribble had made it past Leigh's lips and the girl reacted as Dawn would have. She spit, discreetly, while he was turned pouring ketchup on Kate's bare breasts. It didn't clear the taste completely, but it helped. Leigh pressed her lips together more firmly, until the worst of the condiments had slipped from her hair. She wished that she could at least wipe her face, but with her hands bound as they were, she simply had to sit in her chair and suffer. (I lost the race, didn't I?) (What race???) In the safety of her room, Dawn's fingers combed through her relatively clean hair and wiped at her sweatshirt just above her breasts. The sensations and smells of condiments coated her fingers. She shook them, trying to rid herself of the gunk. But it stayed, just at it did for the real girls suffering it. With a sigh, Dawn wondered about the food thing, but managed to push herself again from Leigh's consciousness, before he decided to cover the poor girl in tuna fish, or something. <---===***===---> Wonderfully warm water sluiced over her hair and body. Her wrists ached, and her nipples were uncomfortable as if she'd been lying against them while sandpaper had rubbed them. (Not Leigh. Not Kate. Who now?) Some distant shared memory appeared. The naked girl in front of her was ... Tyler ... a brunette of considerable beauty accentuated by the warm water cascading over her trim body. Tyler played forward for the opposing team. She didn't even go to this school. (Tyler had won the race, hadn't she? Not really. I did.) Dawn's fingers rubbed bar soap into the girl's hair while she sighed in pleasure, and began to massage it into a thick lather of white. The soap dropped, but Lisa (Lisa?? Dawn???) didn't bother to pick it up. (He might be watching. Best not to bend over, wasn't it?) She didn't understand why she was in a communal shower, washing another girl, but she wasn't alone in her task. Four other girls were washing each other, laughing. Each girl had deep rope marks on her wrists and ankles, but it didn't seem to faze any of them. They seemed genuinely happy to be in the shower. (Why am I in the shower?) (Because I needed one?) (Why am I washing Tyler?) (Because he demanded it.) Tyler's skin felt silky smooth beneath her fingers. Dawn's moan echoed through her bedroom, nobody there to hear it, or wonder what the girl was seeing. Her clitoris pulsed as her hands continued to slowly move through Tyler's hair. Dawn moaned again, and managed to push free once more. <---===***===---> Her breasts ached, and she sat up sharply. Her mind, confused, glanced around the bedroom. Her bedroom. With a start, she yanked her hand from beneath the waistband of her jeans. (No. No. No.) Her breasts were covered in ketchup and goo, and her hair ran stringy from her head in red and green tinged waves. Her shoulders stuck to the inside of her sweatshirt. She swung her legs from the bed, her bare feet cool against the floorboards. Her feet whispered across the floor, as she held her arms away from her gooped body. The grime had even run down between her legs. (Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.) She stood before the full length mirror. Her sex throbbed, as she expected to see herself with condiments spread across her nudity. Her image, clothed in a sweatshirt, and jeans, her hair blonde and radiant, stared back at her. (Not real. Not real.) But she could still feel the sting of the crop, welts burned into the flesh of her breasts. The smell of vinegar, and ketchup overwhelmed her. (Not real. Not real.) Slowly, she lifted her sweatshirt. Her bra covered her breasts, but there was nothing there. Only her. Only Dawn. A tear squeezed from her eyes and ran down her cheek like vinegar. (I don't want this. I don't want this.) In one quick motion, she tossed the sweatshirt onto her bed. Her jeans, panties, and bra followed. She stared at her nakedness for a few minutes before she walked purposely towards the bathroom. <---===***===---> Would it work? Knowing her luck, it wouldn't. Where would the pressure come from? Where would the hot water come from? In what land of insane physics could a shower possibly work without time? (Paradox prevention, Dawn my girl.) With an effort, nothing short of Herculean, she pushed her bubble again until she felt it intersect with the shower wall. Inside the wall, she could feel the pipes, and the mists of time converging. (What was there, will be the result. Effect and cause, all mixed up.) It didn't make any sense to her. She wasn't sure that it *could* make sense. She stepped aside, rising on her bare toes to avoid a possibly scalding spray. Slowly, she twisted the knob counter clockwise. She almost screamed, as warm water, wonderfully warm water fell. She stepped under the spray and laughed. <---===***===---> It filled her mouth. She swallowed. It filled her mouth again. The water was warm, and didn't taste particularly good, but she drank deeply of it. (Can I get another tap to work?) She didn't know the answer to that, but the water falling from the shower head quenched the thirst that she didn't know that she had. The sensations of the condiments washed away with the touch of the spray, but the phantom welts from the crop remained, though subdued, upon her bare breasts. She soaped quickly, and washed her hair. She could almost believe that this was a normal day, a normal shower in a normal house. If her nipples, and her clitoris, and her breasts didn't ache quite so much, she wouldn't have known that this shower was any different than any other that she'd ever taken. <---===***===---> With a start, she yanked the wonderfully soft water from massaging her intimately. Gasping at the loss of sensation against her clitoris, she stumbled and pressed the hand held lover back into its slot. She touched the temperature control, pushing it further towards blue. The water falling over her head immediately began to cool until it was positively cold. It wasn't as cold as what Leigh and Kate had been forced to stand under -- some red remained in Dawn's shower -- but as her teeth began to chatter, she reached to shut off the flow, something the other girls were denied. As the water began to drip, and she lowered herself to the tub, feet outstretched, her body shivering. (Why, even after a cold shower, was her clitoris demanding attention?) She'd always had a healthy interest in sex, but this was ridiculous. (The visions. The other girls.) She shook her head, water dripping from her hair across her bare shoulders. (The visions. You have to stop the visions.) She sighed. She knew that. <---===***===---> She was naked, her bare feet whispering through a doorway. She had no idea which girl she was this time, but she thought it was Kate. Slowly, she and the other girl turned. Her hands were cuffed, relatively comfortably in front of her. The sight of the handcuffs on her wrists drove more desire into her sex. She tried to ignore the sensations. The two double doors though which Kate, or Leigh, and Dawn had passed began to close. "Good-bye," the girl whispered. They wouldn't be coming back here, and she was going to miss it. She'd been tied there, and suffered there, but it was familiar. Now, the world beckoned. Slowly, the girl turned from the closed doors and hurried after the Timeman. The vision faded as quickly as it had begun. <---===***===---> She tilted her head back against the tile, sighing. She didn't know where they were, or what they were doing, but she couldn't sit naked in her bathtub all day. She'd escaped the classroom, escaped the college, and managed to get herself clean. Her sex throbbed, as did her nipples. Slowly, she pushed herself up, careful not to slip against the porcelain. No doctors here either. And she doubted if the Timeman, even if he were aware of her presence, would be anxious to help her if she were hurt. He'd probably whip her, if he could get his hands on her. The crop sinking into the flesh of her breasts. She reached for a towel, remembering to extend her time bubble to encase it. She stared into the fogged mirror for a long time before she wiped the mist off it, and her naked image stared back at her. "I have to find them," she whispered. -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: 2.6.3ia Charset: noconv iQEVAwUBPqlwXkxM3srBk85hAQHB+wf/fXQq9NjBXgXDnbDwmF2+AR1v+dQCspft kpBmgQYXaXVqrp5GFVOhYHKcDmFo3WuYxlsLub7YiIt2GaExs12I5pQk1s9oa3kk 8QE5pnMQWuiRI6IpW209UkvjjEnYWJqI0EQVpk/GRLKxsRQAtaiV29dGj1JXaWbb 3kAospQA74JeRRnYFCveE9m2TWhEXY3AdujxKiEbMcOOERukZIK2YaZn+4q6eMhg zCwKcVlNlxqTy6SHCMJoetHg6M23+VW23EX1b+/7KkkC9I8ccrGlogsh5Mt25CJp Tf85xTvtpJJ+3X5h7cVv3JcoNtlOOGQOZqOHkLNXKIc5QPg+Oz41og== =mnvJ -----END PGP SIGNATURE----- -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+