Message-ID: <40838asstr$1045005003@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <20030211210645.798.qmail@nym.alias.net> From: Crimson Dragon X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 11 Feb 2003 21:06:45 -0000 Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [017/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon} Date: Tue, 11 Feb 2003 18:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, newsman -----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 17 ==================================================================== (C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com) ==================================================================== The plastic ones were multi-coloured, the wooden ones plain. Both looked like they might be painful. The girl could no longer help take items from the shelves, so the Timeman fingered the packages of clothespins before taking them. Her eyes widened, as if she were aware of what the ordinary household items might be used for. "Kelly, come here." She hesitated for a moment, but in the end shuffled over to where he was standing. "Can't we take the chains off, at least?" she asked. "What's the point in making me take small steps, it only slows us down. I'm not going to run." "Kelly, time isn't an issue. Your ability to run isn't an issue." Time was an issue, but he didn't want her to know that. Besides which, she looked pretty struggling to walk -- re-learning to walk. Wonderfully adaptive, women, he thought. He doubted that if the roles were reversed, if he'd have been able to walk as well as she had, and not nearly as quickly. She rarely over-extended her steps any longer, no longer digging the chains into her bones with overlong strides. They'd traversed the store, picking up items, her moving slowly, but determinedly, grasping the pack in her fingers, her ankles restricted by the chains. The clothespins were the last item. From here. "I need to try these, too," he remarked to the girl. She slowly shook her head. "Not on me. Please." "I need to know which type is worse, if they are completely unbearable." She shook her head, backing up as quickly as her bound feet would let her. Moving backwards was more difficult for her; she stumbled twice. He allowed her to move back a bit. His voice eventually stopped her. "Kelly?" She halted, her eyes suspicious. "No. Please, no." He worked a plastic pin out of its package, and a wooden one out of the next. He tested the grip against his finger. They hurt, but they weren't unbearable. The plastic one with its ridged teeth hurt far more than the plain wooden one. "It doesn't hurt that much," he remarked conversationally as he slipped the clamps from his skin. Of course, he wasn't really trying them on sensitive skin, either. The tears had begun. "Please, no." He walked behind her, unzipping the bag and dropping in the packages of clothespins, keeping the two that he'd tested against his finger aside. He walked in front of her. She stepped back again. Her eyes were riveted to the simple clothespins that he held casually in his left hand. "Would you rather have sex with the paint woman?" She naked girl shook her head. "The old guy?" She shook her head again. "Me?" She hesitated at that one. Instead of a denial, she whispered. "Would you let me go, if I did?" "I'm going to let you go, anyway, Kelly." "Where are you going to put them?" He looked confused for a moment, but she nodded her head towards his left hand. "Those damn things." Her body was shaking. "I thought I'd let you choose." She looked confused. "Choose?" "Breasts or lips?" "Lips?" She jumped as he touched her flat belly, finger trailing downwards, brushing at her soft pubic hair. Frightened, she stepped back, three baby steps, chains rattling between her ankles. "Please, no." He shrugged. "I can choose for you." "Breasts," she said dully. "Please, how long." He considered. He needed them on her skin for a few minutes to let her get used to the pressure. He needed a female perspective, and she was the only one here -- at least the only one unfrozen. "We're going further down the mall after this." She shook her head, perhaps more frightened of walking down the mall in her condition. "When we get outside this store, I'll take them off you. Okay?" He could see in her eyes that she didn't think it was okay -- not by a long shot, but she nodded slowly, acquiescing to her torture. "If it hurts, will you take them off?" He decided not to lie to her. "Kelly. No. They will be uncomfortable, have no doubt, but I need you to wear them for a few minutes." He held up the clothespins, two simple implements of pressure. Innocent, except if one was bound naked staring at them, knowing where they were going. The plastic one shone shiny red under the fluorescent lights of the store. He held up the red clip. "Which? Left or right?" "I don't care," she said dully. His fingers gathered in the flesh of her right nipple, his touch impersonal, like a doctor's. She gasped as his fingers touched her private skin, her nipple involuntarily hardening. She shivered. The jaws of the clothespin began to close, ever so slowly, aiming behind her nipple, not directly on the sensitive nub. He could feel her twitching, wanting to turn away from the certain pain, wanting to run. "Please don't," she whispered. Her voice rose to a short scream, which she cut off with an effort as the jaws mercilessly clamped behind her nipple. "Christ, that hurts. Take it off. Please." Tears began to fall down her cheek. Without answering her, her gathered her left nipple, and attached the wooden one carefully but quickly. She screamed again, her denials muttered. "No. No. Please God. No." He watched her for a moment twisting, desperate to release her arms from their imprisonment behind her back. The pins stood erect, almost like obscene gestures attached to her small nipples. Her nipples began to engorge behind the clips. She was in no danger from circulation, that he knew; they wouldn't grace her body long enough to do any physical damage, but she was uncomfortable, no question. He waited for her nipples to numb a little, and for her to get used to the throbbing there. At last, she looked up. "They hurt." "I know, Kelly. I know." "Why?" "Because you aren't used to the pressure?" She looked frustrated; clarified: "Why are you hurting me, you bastard?" Because I can? Because I think you are pretty that way? Because I want to control you? "It won't be for long, Kelly. I promise." She couldn't understand, and he couldn't blame her. She was the one in discomfort, after all. And he'd caused it. "Please take them off me. Please?" she begged. Then after a moment of silence. "I'll have sex with you, with the old guy, with the woman. Anything you want. But please." He gently shook his head. She desperately shook her chest, perhaps trying to dislodge the clamps. He could have told her that it was probably a mistake, and she perhaps knew even before she did it. She cried out in pain as the movement of her bare breasts translated to the clothespins attached to her. The clips wobbled, twisting cruelly. After she'd managed to quell the pain, but still crying, he turned her gently and guided the naked girl towards the mall. All thoughts of her humiliation and nudity out in the concourse forgotten, she put all her concentration into taking small steps, as much as the chains would allow her, and minimising the movement of her breasts. He watched her rhythm, her hard won cadence forgotten, she continued to push the chains between her ankles to their limits, the resulting pain in her ankles, he was sure, minor compared to that in her nipples. The concourse remained as it was. He examined the old guy entering the store, considering releasing him to see Kelly struggling towards the mall, the clothespins still upright on her breasts. The shock on the old man's face might have been worth it, but a heart attack might not be a good thing. In the end, he walked back towards Kelly, marvelling that he could walk so easily. The girl looked decidedly envious. "Take them off me, please?" she begged. "You can leave me tied up forever, I don't care, just the pins." He gently shook his head. It was obvious that she was hurting with them, but the pain was dulling as she was forced to wear them longer. She still pulled at her bound arms, but he could see that she really didn't think that she could pull free to reach the maddening clips. "You can do it, Kelly," he whispered. She looked up murderously. If she hadn't been bound, he didn't doubt that she would have attempted to kill him then. He retreated from the struggling girl, finding a spot on a concourse bench between a young couple and an older woman. He ignored his bench mates and watched Kelly approach. It took her a while, and she stumbled with soft expressions of pain once or twice. He enjoyed the view, though on some levels her pain bothered him. She didn't deserve this, but he needed her for this. His erection throbbed almost painfully watching her. He turned his attention to the other pedestrians. The population was sparse at this end of the mall, but there were others here that he could test. He shook his head, imagining some of the walking girls, naked. He could see them if he wanted. There was an Asian girl, sporting a dark ponytail. There was a black girl, wearing a jump suit and sneakers. A business woman her hand raised in greeting, her long blond hair loose around her shoulders, her jacket stretched across her breasts. They would all look wonderful nude. "Mister?" Kelly's voice turned his attention back towards the hardware store. He'd intended to stop her before she approached the bench upon which he was sitting; it was out of the way for where they were going, and with her hobbled, every step was a chore. She stood naked in front of him, close, but not too close. She bit her lip, glancing around nervously at the other frozen people surrounding them. "I don't even know who you are." He didn't say anything in response. It was obvious that she'd been thinking while she struggled with the clothespins grasping her tender skin. "I. I don't know what I did to displease you. Maybe the black clothing? Maybe I offended you? Maybe I was rude to you in a former life?" He shook his head. She plunged onwards. "Whatever it was," she paused here for a moment searching for a word. She said it anyway, almost as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. "Whatever it was, sir, I'm sorry. So sorry." "You didn't do anything." But he liked the term she had chosen. Much better than 'bastard'. 'Sir' reminded him of Christi and Jane. He shivered. She almost looked like she needed to believe that she had displeased her captor in some minor way; something to deserve her punishment. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'll gladly stay tied up for you, and I know that you don't have to do it, I know, but please, please, please, take the clothespins off me. Please?" Her voice had dropped to a begging whisper. "Do they hurt?" She looked surprised at the question. She didn't snap at him, though a quick look of anger crossed her pretty features. Her voice emerged controlled and soft. "What do you think?" After he didn't answer her, she concentrated, her face screwed up. Finally she answered. "No." "No?" "No. They don't hurt ... not like they did when you put them on in the first place. My. My nipples ... feel ... numb. They throb. Except when I move, then it hurts. Please." He looked at her quizzically, prompting her with his eyes. She hesitated, then continued. "The plastic one hurts the most, the wooden one I could probably stand for a while by itself. Please, don't make me wear them any more. Please." She shifted her weight as best she could, relieving tension on her right leg. Slowly, he rose from the bench. "Kelly?" The naked girl looked up, her eyes pleading. "They are going to hurt coming off, you know." Her eyes widened, not fully understanding. She probably had never put clothespins on her nipples before, or had anyone else do it either. "I don't care," she whispered. "Please." The Timeman shrugged. Kelly winced, as his fingers touched the wooden clothespin. "You sure you're ready?" She nodded once. With a quick movement, to cause her the least discomfort, he released the clamp and palmed the pin. Her face was a mask of relief, for a moment, and then the blood rushed back into her sensitised nipple. "Ayiiiiiee," her voice rang through his eardrums. Her fingers unconsciously released, and she dropped the backpack onto the tile of the corridor with a dull thud. Before she could react, he snatched the red one from her right nipple. Band-Aid approach. Her cries of pain intensified for a moment, and he was sure that she would collapse. Gently, he caught her, and lowered her bound body to the ceramic tile of the concourse. If she'd fallen, she had no hands to break her fall. She lay moaning there, struggling in vain against her ropes, bare ankles kicking futilely against the chains that held them. "My nipples. My breasts. Oh God," she moaned. He settled back onto the bench, watching her, making sure that she didn't roll and hurt herself further. It didn't take long before she quieted, her cries subsiding, as her blood refilled the tormented skin. At last, only her breasts and ribs hitched in quiet sobs. After a while, she looked up. "Thank-you," she whispered. He wasn't sure if it was meant for him finally removing her torture, or if it was because he hadn't let her fall bound to hurt herself or break bones on the ceramic. She certainly wasn't thanking him for the pleasure of having her nipples squeezed mercilessly by mindless springs and pegs, oblivious to her discomfort. He knelt beside her for a moment. "You okay?" She nodded, biting at her lip. "Can you walk?" She nodded again after looking at the floor on which she lay with a grimace. Gently, he lifted her back to her feet. He stooped, picking up the blue backpack and pressing it into her fingers again. She didn't complain about having to carry it. Her breath still came in long inhales and exhales, as if calming jangled nerves. He opened the backpack behind her and slipped the two tormenting clips into it. He heard them settle against some of the other hardware stored there. Without another word, he began to guide her, she taking five steps to every one of his, towards the far end of the mall. -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: 2.6.3ia Charset: noconv iQEVAwUBPkk/gExM3srBk85hAQE4swf+O29gjXtZewohNWN/z9V+DoqnqaPjHmLW GWxj+zN1K/TwGe4qU0yZvoGMewgbjcUWdwPbpewQaIaMdM5MqXG26nuxQ5vbeokp 6O2qSz/NUD8PKUCPxnaipfPrSZNsn+OuD9m0n+pBs1/UC25HK1roT7dmkaIAfVWy ZSDsilhj8XYVQcHrABDTXiv/aO6athPsBPE9pSe5097/lYxb+oLQZ/QNvWc+0dxD LzUmzFtVnuDjMDtFIeGMkgSN9slUAqZ/QKgBAeYNEP41bjKW8cRa4E6ZBAV+PMZv XOrV4SoVhkHGcy5odHd0ygvQTebOYwNTrEY0fpooN6lVm88e+Sjm6A== =maT+ -----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: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+