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Message-ID: <43767asstr$1060125005@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimsonp@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [137/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon}
Date: Tue,  5 Aug 2003 19:10:05 -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

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

Chapter 137

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(C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved

Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

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

The knots were tighter than Dawn thought. The marble felt strange
and foreign beneath her knees.

First her ankles, then her knees. After her lower legs were freed,
Kate stood with a groan of pain, but lessening the stress on her
still bound arms, and the rope holding her waist to the pillar. It
was slow work, her fingers working at the unfamiliar knots.

Dawn could feel their eyes on her, merely watching because there was
nothing else to do.

Kate cried out twice, once for each breast, as she worked at the
ropes bound around the base of each. She tried to be gentle, and
Kate managed to keep her vocalisations to a minimum. It felt strange
to be actually touching another girl's breasts. A fleeting image of
her fingers caressing Linda's breasts rose to her mind, and she
thought that she'd go crazy with the pounding between her legs.

Slowly, the remainder of the ropes fell to the floor, and when she
was finally free of her prison, Kate stood silently, staring at
Dawn. It wasn't appreciation for freeing her -- that could have been
anyone, Dawn supposed. But she'd been picked. No, Kate's eyes
projected sympathy, and shared experience.

Kate moved forward, her legs a little wobbly, and hesitated. Dawn
felt a tear trace down her cheek, and then, without quite
understanding how she had fallen, found herself cradled in Kate's
arms, sobbing. At any other time, finding herself pressed together
with another naked woman, breast to breast, might have been
uncomfortable. Now, it made the universe, even this crazy universe,
bearable.

He let them hold each other for longer than Dawn had expected, and
it came as no surprise as her name floated from his lips.

"Dawn?"

Kate released her reluctantly, stepping away, and then around her
towards the other girls who knelt quietly on the marble. As she
passed, Kate bent and brushed her lips along Dawn's cheek. The kiss
was chaste, and for once, the tingles didn't rise into her being.
The kiss brought only a sense of comfort and belonging. Dawn lowered
her head, and waited for the Timeman to approach, as Kate moved
stiffly towards the edge of the square, and the rest of the
captives.

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

Dawn stood shaking, her back pressed against the still warm tiles
where Kate's body had been bound only moments before. She held her
hands for him, along the sides of the pillar, shivering as he
wrapped coarse rope about her wrists. When he was done, he stepped
back and surveyed her. She watched him, trying to project an image
of strength, but knowing that it was probably failing. When one was
naked and tied to a pillar, it was difficult to mask a sense of
impending doom.

"Do you want me to spread my legs?" she asked evenly. In her minds
eye, she saw herself as Kate had been, helplessly spread, almost
offering her nakedness to the whip.

He shook his head, but he didn't leave her ankles free. She
supposed, that in pain, a girl might do something unexpected, like
lift a foot into a groin. Or perhaps on purpose. Either way, she
stood still while he wrapped a length of cord about her ankles, and
lashed her securely. She wiggled her bare toes, and they obeyed her,
even with the tight ropes restricting her movements.

She lifted her eyes, and he smiled at her. The smile frightened her,
but she swallowed, and refused to break her eyes from his.

"How do you feel?"

"A little vulnerable," she said slowly. The other girls weren't
looking at her. Only him.

(A lot vulnerable.)

She pulled at her wrists. They moved, but not enough to allow her to
wriggle her wrists free, or to allow her to move away from anything
coming at her.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked. She didn't want to
know the answer, but perhaps by knowing, she could prepare herself,
mentally, if not physically.

Instead of answering her, he asked her a question.

"Would you like me to tie your breasts?"

(Yes.)

(No.)

She wanted to scream at him: Why? Did it make any difference, why?
She slowly shook her head. Whatever he had planned for her, having
her breasts tied didn't sound like it would help her deal with it.
Honestly, she was surprised that he'd asked her. It wasn't like she
could have stopped him if he'd wanted to tie her breasts.

He nodded. Slowly, he picked up the thin rod, and her eyes widened.

(He's going to hit me with that thing. And I can't move.
 Oh, shit.)

He smiled, and gently tapped his hand with the device.

(He won't hit me that gently.)

She shivered. Her body ached. Completely. From the tips of her bare
breasts, to the base of her feet. He was going to whip her, and
there wasn't anything that she could do about it. In desperation,
she tried to project her time bubble towards him. He must have felt
it, because he laughed gently.

"That won't work, little one."

She closed her eyes. Tears of frustration and impending pain rolled
down her face.

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why are you going to hurt me?"

"Because you need to understand."

She swallowed. She'd come here to understand, been driven here to
put her life in jeopardy to save them, to save herself. Her stomach
felt like a million butterflies decided to have a convention.

"Please, you don't need to do this to me. I understand."

(I understand, because I felt it. God, I felt it.)

Her vagina clenched rhythmically, as if anticipating the pain, and
the tingles that it would drive into her soul.

(I'm not a fucking masochist. I'm not.)

(I know. I know.)

"Please?"

She hated begging this man for anything, but her words seemed to
widen his grin. Hitting her, perhaps, was more than for her
understanding. Hitting her, and the thought forced another shiver
down her spine, was for her being here at all. In some way, she'd
spoiled his fantasy, and at the same time, represented something
beyond what Kate, or Leigh, could give him.

"Thighs, stomach, or breasts?"

The question came almost nonchalantly. Innocently.

She shivered.

"You don't have to hit me," her voice was cracking, and tears fell
unheeded down her face. His face was a blur in the overhead lighting
of the mall. Surrealistically, shoppers surrounded the drama,
children, and men, and women, silently witnessing her introduction
into this world.

He stood quietly, not repeating his question, but expecting an
answer. She understood, with utmost certainty, that it didn't matter
where she chose. He'd hit her wherever he wanted, and she feared
that she knew exactly where that would be.

(Those things are made for hitting horses, for Christsakes.)

She swallowed, and her voice was barely audible.

"If you must, you can whip me. But don't make the mistake of doing
it for me."

He smiled.

"But it is for you."

She felt sick, and she fought down the gorge rising. For a moment,
she considered letting it rise, being sick. But it wouldn't save
her. Of that, she was also certain.

She raised herself up, the rope holding her tightening as she lifted
her chin.

"Stomach," she whispered. Knowing that it didn't make any difference
at all. Kneeling around her, she could see Kate and Leigh crying,
nearly as hard as she was.

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

Dawn screamed. She couldn't help it. The blow had come unexpectedly
- -- in the wrong place, driving deep into her breasts like acid. She
struggled to keep her balance, her voice nearly foreign to her, like
another entity, separated from her by the sharp fire radiating from
her chest.

"God. Not again."

But God wasn't there anymore, and it fell against her again, driving
blackness into her vision. She didn't want to pass out, even knew
that what Kate had experienced had been far worse than this. He'd
only tapped her, little more than what he'd done to his own hand as
he talked to her.

She'd never been hit before. Not really hit. Or whipped.

Her voice rose again, expressing fiery agony.

"Please. Oh, God, please."

She willed her mouth to stop, but it refused to listen, babbling
like it belonged to another person.

"It hurts. Please. I've learned whatever it is you wanted me to
learn. I'll do what you want, just stop hitting me. Please. Oh,
God. Please."

His voice came from close, kissing her ear. He was standing beside
her, and she could sense his arousal. It had blossomed far more
intensely than when he'd been whipping Kate. She didn't understand,
but her own body was mirroring his state, bubbling in sexual energy,
screaming to reduce her pain through orgasm. Her hips rocked, no
matter how much she tried to keep them still. She thought that she
might have broken the skin at her ankles, pulling. Ever pulling.

"I can put Kate back up here, instead."

She swallowed, hearing her mindless screaming wither.

He turned from her.

"I'll take her place. You're killing her."

Kate's sweet voice rose from the floor, like an unexpected saviour,
offering herself to ease Dawn's agony. Dawn drew in breath, ragged,
the air sweet against her sore throat.

She closed her eyes. In some strange way, she needed this. She
didn't know where the thought came from, but she clung to it, even
as her breasts screamed.

(Freedom. You're free while you're here.)

She swallowed, her saliva warm and wet against her parched throat.
Somehow, she knew that he only intended to hit her once more, but it
would hurt. God, it would hurt.

"No," she whispered. "If you have to do it, hit me again."

He looked at her, then back at Kate. The redhead lowered herself,
comprehension flooding her. She nodded, though the tears didn't
stop.

"Breasts," Dawn whispered. And it seemed right.

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

The blackness overtook her, as the searing pain from the crop drove
relentlessly into her bared nipples. She was sure that her breasts
would split, but of course, they didn't. Kate had suffered worse
than this, and hadn't screamed. For her.

Her entire body clenched as the cleansing pain took her. Her teeth.
Her breasts. Her ribs. Her thighs. Her belly. Her vagina. Clench.
Clench.

And then the blackness welled up. She smiled, and welcomed it.

She hadn't screamed. It had hurt. God, had it hurt. But she hadn't
screamed.

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

She awakened in Leigh's arms. The girl knelt, holding her head,
stroking her hair. Tear stains wet her cheeks as she looked
worriedly at her charge.

Dawn tried to say something, but Leigh shushed her, pressing a
single finger to Dawn's lips. She reached to the side, and picked up
something, pressing it to Dawn's lips.

Dawn drank greedily, but Leigh stopped her. For a moment, Dawn felt
sick, like she was going to throw up violently. Her stomach
convulsed, then settled. Leigh allowed her to drink a little more,
and the liquid rasped over her sore throat.

She closed her eyes again for a while, and lost herself in the
luxury of Leigh's hands stroking her hair. When she opened her eyes
again, it was Kate holding her. From her vantage point, she could
see the directional lights high above, and a streak of sunlight
through distant skylights. The underside curve of Kate's bare
breasts shone in a dichotomy of light and shadow. Dawn sighed, and
she swallowed again, her throat complaining.

Kate glanced down.

"Welcome back," she murmured. Then to someone else, perhaps the man
who had whipped her. "She's awake now."

Kate returned her glance to Dawn, her expression worried.

Dawn found a grin.

"I didn't scream," she said.

Kate laughed, the worry erasing itself from her features.

"No, you didn't, Dawn. No, you didn't."

Somehow, it made them sisters, and it felt right.

Her breasts felt like pools of aching fire, and not only from the
abuse of the crop.

She was going to survive. Somehow.


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