index


Message-ID: <42460asstr$1052971803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [078/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Thu, 15 May 2003 00:10:03 -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

-----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 78

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

(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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

The television hummed with a high pitched squeal that most people
couldn't hear, but no picture appeared on the screen, only blankness
staring out at her.

Dawn sighed, and sipped at the glass of milk that she had pried from
the stubborn refrigerator a few minutes earlier. She didn't know
what she exactly expected on the television, certainly not the
standard daytime drivel, but perhaps a cover story flashing across
CNN decrying the strange state of the world.

Instead, the television refused to acknowledge her -- not even
static buzzing out into the world.

(What are you going to do, Dawnie?)

(I don't know.)

(Find him?)

She picked up the remote control, surprised that her time bubble
seemed to encapsulate it almost without thought. She thumbed the
power button, and the high pitched squeal from the set silenced.
Belatedly, she realised that she merely could have released the
television from the time bubble she'd struggled to cast around it.

A faint squeeze between her legs stirred. She gasped, dropping the
remote. The sexual tingling returned like a horse rising from a trot
to a gallop. The remote fell from her fingers, slipping from the
time bubble in a small flash of light. It disappeared, only to
reappear on the coffee table from where she'd picked it up moments
before.

She gasped again, as she was pulled unwillingly back towards them.
She forced her eyes open, regarding the blue haze of the universe as
it slipped by her.

(Nice going, Pandora. Nice going.)

She felt her sex pulse again, and she cried out at the intensity. In
the real world, not the more hazy copy far away, she tried to force
her fingers away from her breast, and from delving into her lap.
Moaning, Dawn tilted over, drawing her knees to her chest, wrapping
her arms around her calves for safety.

It was Kate, she was sure. She was beginning to recognise them. Her
hands seemed to be free, for once, but she remained naked, and cool.
Something heavy hung around her throat, and her palms and knees felt
scraped like she'd had a run in with a mad woodworker's sanding
block.

A slight weight fell from her throat, twitching between her bare
breasts, but Kate wasn't looking down, so she couldn't see what it
was.

The Timeman walked around a pretty blonde girl in a baseball cap who
looked as frozen as the other people of the world. The cap read:
'Security'. There was a name tag pinned above her right breast, but
Dawn couldn't read it.

At least the girls weren't in pain this time. Nevertheless, Dawn
felt her body tingling, sexual energy flowing through her veins.

The Timeman looked up, and began to walk back towards the naked
girls.

An irrational fear of what would happen if she stayed yanked Dawn
out of the vision, back to where she lay curled up on the sofa. The
television stared at her accusingly. Surprisingly, her fingers
seemed to be behaving, clasped around her legs. Her body throbbed,
but for once, her fingers seemed to be listening to her. She didn't
have to fight them away from her erogenous zones.

She knew the place, the security desk seemed familiar to her.

(Where? Where? Where?)

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

She didn't fight it when the visions pulled her again. Her body
rocked slightly as the haze overtook her, but she wasn't afraid.
Calm descended.

Again, she appeared to be inhabiting the girl named Kate, and she
stood approximately where she had while the Timeman had examined the
security girl. But she was facing away from the desk towards a
silver wall.

(Silver wall?)

The girl named Leigh, Dawn remembered from various trips into her
body and mind, stood easily beside Kate. She wore a leather collar,
seemingly locked to her throat, a leash descending from a ring to
hang easily between the girl's bare breasts. Leigh didn't seem
perturbed about the symbols of her captivity, almost as if she were
used to them.

Dawn's palms and knees still ached, and she could feel attire
similar to Leigh's, adorning Kate's body. With Kate, she watched the
Timeman as he traced his finger down the silver tiles.

(I crawled. Down the middle of the road.)

The thought jolted her, and she fought her body's response to it.
Why the thought of Kate, or herself, crawling down a busy street,
naked, should arouse her, she didn't know. Intuitively, she knew
because it aroused Kate, but the reasoning bubbled just below her
consciousness.

The finger stopped on one that read: 'Blake and Sons - Law Firm -
4201'.

She could read it because Kate focused on it.

"Ready for a long climb?" he asked.

"Do I have a choice?" Dawn said in Kate's voice.

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

Her lungs burned, and her calves felt like they had been poked with
red hot irons. She collapsed with Leigh, the roughness of the
concrete stairs pressing against her spine and bare bottom.

She didn't care. Kate had stopped climbing, and that was enough for
now. When the dots of bright light began to fade from behind her
eyelids, she sighed with the naked girl, sympathising with her pain.
At least the Timeman hadn't made the girls climb the stairs in
handcuffs.

Dawn, in the real world, on her couch, rocked and tried to control
her real breathing as air rasped in and out of her lungs, rattling
through the still living room. She hugged her knees harder, trying
to understand why her real body felt what Kate was feeling. She
could feel the concrete against the bare soles of her feet, and the
burning of her calf muscles.

It wouldn't fade if she pulled out, she knew, but the climb was
merely filled with the girl's panting and the heat their bodies
generated in the deserted stairwell. Relatively innocent. She
stayed.

"Are you ever going to let us dress?" Kate/Dawn asked.

He smiled. "But you look so much better naked, don't you think?"

Dawn sighed, and returned to her more clothed existence. The
universe didn't resist her efforts this time, and she slipped back
without a murmur. Her body throbbed again, but it wasn't as
insistent.

She glanced down at herself, her sweatshirt and jeans seemed so much
like a privilege. She wished she could share it with Kate and Leigh.

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

With a sigh, Dawn pushed herself into a sitting position, and from
there, she rose to her bare feet. The phone book was more difficult
to free for some reason, perhaps the insistent throbbing in her
groin from her recent travels, but she tried to ignore the
sensations as her time bubble extended, and at last, she reached
onto the top shelf of the closet and cradled the thick book in her
elbow.

Returning to the sofa, she glanced at the television, still silent
on the cabinet where she'd set it when she'd moved in. Slowly, she
flipped to the blue edged business section, and traced her finger
down the 'B' column.

There is was. 'Blake and Sons - Law Firm'. There was a useless
number there -- Dawn was sure that telephones were as useful here as
her television -- but that wasn't what she was interested in.

Before the telephone number, an address glared out at her.

Before she could take note of the address, the phone book jittered
in her hand, and she was pulled back into the blue haze.

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

A well dressed woman, perhaps in her late twenties, stood in a
nicely decorated hallway, her hand on a doorknob to an office. Dawn
looked down at herself, expecting to see Kate's nudity, but instead,
only empty air greeted her. She seemed to be anchorless, not
attached to any particular girl. This was new.

The Timeman circled the woman before lowering himself to sit on the
floor under a bright watercolour of a house resting on the western
plains. Smears of wheat flowed in the captured wind. He pulled out
the gun.

The appearance of the weapon tingled Dawn's skin, and she felt
herself drawn towards him, slowly. She consciously backed up, afraid
to enter his body and mind. There was no reason. She'd never been
able to discern if Kate or Leigh, or Kelly had ever detected her
symbiotic presence, but they weren't Time gifted either. And so, she
backed up. Dimly, she was aware of the phone book sliding from her
knees, in a living room far away. The dull thud of it striking the
floor echoed to her ears.

The well dressed woman moved slightly, opening the door. She turned
at the sound of his voice, for an instant, it seemed that her eyes
dwelt on Dawn's empty form.

The woman had striking eyes, blue as the sea.

But then she turned to face the Timeman and his gun.

Dawn closed her eyes, and yanked. The universe didn't want to give
her up this time, but eventually bent to her will.

She didn't want to see the woman, and what he'd make her do.

(Somehow, I'll see it anyway.)

(Pandora.)

Her breathing was ragged as she bent to pick up the phone book. For
a few minutes, she sat quietly, her hands resting on the book, not
opening it. Sexual energy coursed through her.

(I don't want to masturbate. I don't.)

(I do.)

(I don't.)

And she didn't. Instead, she forced her fingers to flip back open
the book on her knees. She located Blake and Sons quickly, but then
averted her eyes.

(Do I really want to?)

(No.)

(Yes.)

At last, she focused her eyes on where the tip of her forefinger
rested. The address focused into her memory and she slowly closed
the book.

She leaned back her head, resting it on the sofa. She allowed the
phone book to leave her sphere of influence. The book winked out of
existence, and she was sure that if she looked, it would be resting
on the top shelf of the closet from where she'd retrieved it.

(Go.)

(Not yet.)

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

The vision nearly had a dreamlike quality to it.

She sat naked and bound into a chair in a room that she had never
seen before. A hot tub bubbled under a bank of bay windows
overlooking the lake. Pinpricks of sunlight glanced off frozen
whitecaps.

Her vision was blurry, tears hazing her view of the world. Her body
ached, especially her breasts and her thighs, and she wanted to
shift, but the ropes held her down securely.

When would he be back?

She didn't know, and neither did the girl that she co-existed with.
The girl tried to move her ankle for the millionth time, but the
ropes held her skin tightly against the chair leg.

The girl was worried about Mark, and of being raped, but her name
wouldn't flow to the surface. Dawn had no idea of who she was.

Dawn wondered where she was. Somewhere downtown, in the city core.
The view of the lake confirmed that. An apartment?

Who was Mark?

She didn't know that either.

The girl managed to stop crying for a moment, her eyes clearing a
little. She glanced down in front of where she was bound, the bare
skin of her breasts visible in the periphery of her vision. Fear
stabbed into the girl as her eyes gathered in two clothespins lying
innocently on the tabletop. Memories of pain, and humiliation
flooded into the girl's consciousness.

Dawn cringed, knowing where the clothespins had been, and where they
might go again. Her nipples ached in sympathy, miles away in a safe
living room.

(Clothespins.)

(No. No. No.)

The girl began to weep again, quietly by herself in her naked
prison. Dawn, feeling almost like an intruder, slipped out of the
vision, and returned to the safe living room with the silent
television.

(You've opened the box now, Pandora.)

Dawn nodded. Almost absently, she pulled her fingers from stroking
herself, and lifted herself to her feet. She was going to need socks
and shoes and maybe a light jacket.

Somehow, she didn't know why, but she'd been chosen. And even if she
didn't know the girls, or even if she could help, but she had to
try.

She stepped towards her bedroom again, determined that the door
wouldn't interfere with her getting her socks.

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

She lifted the backpack and stepped back outside, the fresh air
feeling like lavender across her face. At the driveway, she turned
slowly, looking back at the small house.

(Will I ever come back here?)

She honestly didn't know.

(I hope so.)

On the driveway, her battered old Chrysler sat, for once not rusting
any more. Half the time, the car would turn over, but not start. She
rarely drove any more, though she kept her license valid. Not that
licenses meant much anymore.

The address bubbled to the surface of her mind.

Way too far to walk.

She sat down in the grass beside the driveway, staring at the car.
It looked as big as a whale, impossibly large to reanimate. She
swallowed heavily, bracing herself for the inevitable.

Intuitively, she knew that re-animating larger things was harder
than smaller ones like the television or the remote. Complex things,
like people, or cars, were even more difficult. She had no idea why,
and didn't dwell on it. But pure cause and effect told her what the
effect of reanimating the car would be on her body.

She needed the vehicle. Couldn't find them without it.

She swallowed again, holding her hands lightly against her jeans.
She pushed, sensing the bubble expanding and resting against the
side of the vehicle. She pushed again, straining to merge it with
the metal and fibreglass.

Bursts of sexual energy cried out through her body, but she tried to
ignore the insistent throbbing. It intensified as she pushed again;
she sensed the bubble beginning to slip. She tried to redirect her
emotions into anger, happiness, anything but outright arousal, but
the universe wasn't being cooperative. Arousal flooded her, as she'd
been afraid it would.

With a sigh, she allowed her left hand to stroke her right nipple.

(Please, don't make me pleasure myself. Not here.)

And the universe complied. With a pop, as her hand lightly stroked
her nipple through her sweatshirt sending worse stabs of desire into
her, the bubble snapped around the vehicle encompassing it.

Slowly, dizzily, she rose to her feet, her sneakers whispering
through the grass, and then crackling on the asphalt of the
driveway.

The driver door opened without a sound, and she slipped into the
worn drivers seat. Her feet rested easily on the pedals. The world
spun, but she wasn't sure if it was an effect of her raging
hormones, or whether it was an artifact of the universe's warped
timeframe.

Swallowing, she prayed as she slipped the keys into the ignition.
The engine cranked twice, as her right foot tapped the accelerator
in a practised motion.

The engine roared into life with a rattling vibration. It sent
chills over her skin, and through her nerves. Her clitoris sang
with the stimulation, and she very nearly climaxed as she sat there,
hands clamped to the wheel.

(No. No. No.)

And the sensations ebbed, but remained boiling insistently between
her legs, hovering at the ragged edge of consciousness.

(I'm going to have to do it.)

(Maybe not.)

(Who are you kidding, Pandora?)

She sighed, thankful that her body hadn't won this time, and she
pushed the gear shift, grinding, into first gear.

The car rolled forward slowly, crunching down the driveway towards
the empty street.

"Thank-you," she whispered.


-----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE-----
Version: 2.6.3ia
Charset: noconv

iQEVAwUBPsJ3mExM3srBk85hAQESZgf/at1iEs6d5EfTVry1+h/NurEWg+10UDWz
BYwKc1Ez791NOTxATPL87D+haJgBePNLUBu+oiAC11y1zMBj06e9VYs3qZ1XhRoo
LXQazehRMJ8gN1vFePKzgbF6A+73GxE8im978gUkO4/n4hqtpZTZtuNue9iIR+gp
0PtNurEH0nVIiYIFZV7OAh6XDqgBB88CFbQBEeo6HssAitFAi1W+1O0kiRB9OteB
QS83Tw+wfn4NnjaLhdinO1eiY57Q+i97TXckduWHajbB9mkpNF+YZnZRAVcSNsyF
Iqi8it+vKvNLKZHCgsac6IBehB+il4gfFMLK+n2K0qxbCLlrDNB81A==
=pAe+
-----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>      |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+