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Message-ID: <42427asstr$1052867402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [077/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Tue, 13 May 2003 19:10:02 -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

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

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

Chapter 77

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

(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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

He jumped up, resting on the opulent marble of the reception desk.
He swung his legs easily, ignoring the male receptionist sitting
frozen behind him.

The girls stood, Leigh with her hands held easily behind her back,
and Kate holding the blue backpack at her side, near a small
reception table piled with old magazines.

He motioned them down, and without complaint, the girls sank to
their knees. Kate released the backpack, and they both knelt with
their hands held in their laps.

"Why are we here?" Kate asked quietly, not looking like she expected
a real answer.

He shrugged. "I once had fun with a couple of lawyers here."

"What kind of fun?"

He shrugged again, deigning to answer her. Kate persisted.

"Are we going to be involved?"

"Why should I tell you?"

The girl shrugged, not able to come up with a convincing answer.

"Because we'd like to know what to prepare ourselves for? Maybe we
can help you," she said quietly.

He smiled. "I doubt it. Actually, I'm going to leave you here."

"Here?"

He nodded as he jumped back down to the carpet. He picked up the
blue pack from beside Kate and rummaged through it, eventually
extracting two pairs of handcuffs.

Kate didn't resist as he grasped her right wrist, slowly ratcheting
the cuff against her skin.

"You don't need to restrain us," she murmured.

He ignored her, and continued, picking up her left wrist and
connecting her hands together in front of her.

"Why do you still tie us up? Don't you trust us?" Kate asked as he
moved on to Leigh. Leigh didn't resist any more than Kate had.

"Trust you?"

"Trust us. You're leaving, and you put these things on me." Kate
rattled her wrists making the chain between them jingle merrily.
"I'm not going to run. I can't. Where would I run? You'd find me,
and probably kill me, even if I was able to get down forty two
flights of stairs." A sudden idea came to her. "If I could even get
past the doorway."

He continued to join Leigh's wrists, until they lay securely in her
lap again. He straightened.

"You don't need to restrain us," Kate said simply. "We aren't going
anywhere. We can't."

He smiled again. "I know."

"Then why?" Kate held up her hands, offering them up as if she
expected him to release her, but her face held the knowledge that he
wouldn't no matter how much sense she made.

"Because I want you like that," he said simply.

He thought he saw a tear escape, but she brushed it away with her
hands together rising to her cheek. She nodded, resignedly, pulling
gently at her bonds.

"You don't have to kneel," he said. "Read some magazines or
something, but stay here, in reception, even if you hear something
from inside. Okay?"

"Are you going to hurt someone?" Leigh asked.

"I don't know what I'm going to do next," he said truthfully.

He turned at the oaken doors leading to the offices beyond.

"I don't need to tell you not to get into any sexual activity,
right?"

Kate raised her face indignantly. "What makes you think we lack the
control ..."

He laughed, and smiled at her. He stepped forward, and crouched in
front of Kate. Kate watched him worriedly.

Gently, he urged her thighs to part. Reluctantly, she allowed it.
She wasn't spread obscenely wide, but it was wide enough for him to
trace her labia, one finger slipping past to briefly touch her
clitoral hood. She gasped and then moaned as his finger left her.
Slowly, she pushed her legs back together.

"God," she whispered.

"That's why," he said. "You don't want to know what will happen to
you if I think you two were fooling around in here. You asked about
trust? I cuffed your hands in front of you so you could read
magazines. I didn't tie you to pillars, or into chairs to prevent
you from touching yourselves. Don't make me regret it. Okay? Even if
you don't think so, I am trusting you."

Kate nodded.

He turned to look at them again before pushing through the oaken
doors.

"Why keep us aroused?" she asked simply.

He understood implicitly what the naked girl meant.

"Control," he replied. And then he pushed open the doors, and
slipped through.

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

A solid looking oaken door appeared in the maze of office corridors.

"William Blake," it proclaimed in fancy writing. If his bearings
were correct, the office occupied a good portion of the southeast
corner of the floor.

Curious, he unfroze the door and pushed it open with a muted creak. 
Two men, one older, and one middle-aged, sat watching the older man's 
desk. Both wore expensive looking blue suits, with matching ties. A
standard office telephone sat between them, and the middle aged man
bent towards it, frozen saying something to an entity that would
never hear it.

He wandered through the office, ignoring the men. A bar recessed
into the bookshelves on the north wall, and a flat screen stood on
the old man's desk gathering dust. Two chairs sat unoccupied beside
the middle aged man.

The view out the window was spectacular, the lake and the downtown
core spread out like a postcard. After a moment, he turned away from
the windows, and slipped back out of the office.

He turned left, and continued to explore.

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

She stood like a statue, her hand resting on the doorknob. She wore
a suit, as they all did around here, but hers consisted of a
designer skirt, with matching jacket. Her face wore a harried, busy
look.

He stepped up to her, wondering if the office beyond her fingers
belonged to her, or if she was merely visiting it. The nameplate affixed 
to the door said: 'M Pelletier." The girl didn't look French, but she
was certainly attractive.

Her brunette hair was pulled back in a severe, but professional,
bun. And she didn't use excessive makeup. She didn't need it.

Her clothes masked her body's curves, but hinted at an athleticism
that her profession normally lacked.

He stood back, regarding her. Slowly, he circled her, ducking under
her reaching arm. He wondered who she was, and why she was harried.
If she were a lawyer, that would probably explain the harried look.
He didn't envy lawyers their profession.

He supposed that she would probably be more harried in a few
minutes.

He slowly slipped into a sitting position, against the far wall,
well away from the woman. He slowly calmed his breathing -- his
lungs still hurt from the awful climb up the stairs.

Slowly, he pulled the gun from his waistband, and unfroze the
safety.

With this girl, he suspected, the gun would be necessary. He didn't
know why, but she had that demeanour, even when frozen. It was what
he wanted in his captives. Oh yes.

Neither Kate, nor Leigh, lacked spirit.

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

The woman muttered something about a man or a woman named Tyler
before twisting the doorknob. The door began to creak open.

He cleared his throat, resting the gun across his knees. He hoped
that he wouldn't need to show the girl that it worked, but if he
did, that was life.

At the small sound, the woman whirled, her skirt flaring as she did.
The door slipped closed with a click as she turned.

Her eyes first looked confused, but then lowered to where he sat
against the wall. Instead of his face, her eyes found the weapon
lying almost innocently in her gaze across his knees.

Her eyes widened, and her lips parted to say something.


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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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