Message-ID: <43112asstr$1056759004@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <20030627181758.21144.qmail@nym.alias.net> From: Crimson Dragon X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 27 Jun 2003 18:17:58 -0000 Subject: {ASSM} (New) Dawn of Time [110/157] (MF+, bond, control) {Crimson Dragon} Date: Fri, 27 Jun 2003 20:10:04 -0400 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: RuiJorge, hecate -----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 110 ==================================================================== (C) Copyright 2002 - All Rights Reserved Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com) ==================================================================== "Going to tease me some more?" Monique asked bitterly. He didn't answer her, but led her into a designer shop catering to teenage girls. Normally loud bass music would be pounding from hidden speakers, enticing the mindless crowds of fashion females to part with Daddy's cash for overly tight jeans, and loose blouses. Her thoughts turned to Melanie for a moment, then retreated as he picked through a rack of Levis. "What size is your waist," he asked. Sullenly, she told him, and he extracted a pair of white jeans from the rack. The jeans tapered -- not a style she would normally pick for herself. He gently took the boxes from her and placed them on a shelf, on top of some purple sweaters. He held out the jeans for her. She reached out and draped them over her arm, like she had the gowns. Silently, he turned from her and wandered towards the back of the store. She waited, not following. It didn't appear that he expected it. She followed him with her eyes, shifting her weight from bare foot to bare foot. When he returned, he held up a purple silk blouse, that actually would go with the jeans. "Aren't you going to put them on?" he said mildly. He settled into another of the boyfriend courtesy chairs in front of her. She slowly shook her head. "You can make me, I suppose, but I don't want to do it. I can't." "Can't do what?" "Put them on only to have you take them away." "What if I didn't take them away until we left the mall." She swallowed heavily. "Don't tease me. Please. It's not fair. I don't want it badly enough. I won't have sex for the privilege of wearing some cloth on my body. I won't hurt anyone else. Please don't do this." "I can make you put them on." "I know. Please, I don't want to do it." "Monique," he said more gently. "If you don't want to put them on, I won't make you. I appreciate that you helped me with the gowns. I know I could have forced the issue, forced you to be a mannequin. All it would have taken was a pair of handcuffs, and a crop. Call it a gift of appreciation. Until we reach the parking lot." "You're going to let me wear clothes?" A note of incredulity edged into her voice. "Well, jeans and blouse, yes. I'm afraid they don't seem to carry panties, or bras, and I don't want you in socks or shoes." "You're kidding. No strings?" She didn't care about underclothing, or shoes. In fact, going barefoot wasn't all that bad for her, if he didn't force her to walk on asphalt. He nodded carefully. "But you don't have to dress if you don't want." She nearly ran to hug and kiss him, but she refrained, trying to remind herself that he'd stripped her in the first place. Her hands shook as she drew the jeans up her legs. The fabric felt more like satin than denim to her. She sighed as she straightened. She tugged at the waistband of the pants. They were snug but not overly so. Simply more snug than she was used to. "Take them off," he said. She whirled, her eyes flashing anger. "Please, no. I can't believe I fell for that. Please." "Relax. They aren't tight enough. I'm just going to get you another pair." "Please. They fit." She raised her arms, not caring that she was still topless, and pirouetted for him. "See?" "Take them off, Monique." Tears fell from her eyes, but she willed her fingers to push the denim from her hips and down her legs. She left the jeans crumpled on the floor and waited for him to bring her another pair. When he did, she looked skeptically at the tag. The waist was smaller than the previous pair, might be too tight for her to button. But they were covering, and even if they squeezed her in uncomfortable places, she would try. She tugged them over her hips, and to her surprise, the clasp engaged. She pulled in her tummy, and yanked up the zipper. In her former life, she would never have dared to wear jeans this tight, but she was unreasonably grateful for the covering now. Her thighs felt like they were encased in a second skin, and they touched her intimately in places to make her blush. She didn't care. Somehow, she knew that the second pair of jeans would be satisfactory to him, and she slipped the blouse over her shoulders. "Only two buttons, Monique." She didn't care. The fabric felt like heaven to her bare skin. She buttoned the two buttons between her breasts, the remainder of the blouse fluttering as she moved. The looseness of the blouse contrasted wonderfully with the tightness of the jeans. He stood, and she picked up the boxes with the gowns within. It felt odd walking barefoot through the mall, but so much better than naked. She sighed as he took her hand and guided her back towards the fountain. <---===***===---> The sounds of the fountain tumbled through the otherwise silent air. Monique glanced at the sparkling water, and the coins within. She shook her head once, thinking about what she had probably looked like, sitting naked amongst the fountains like a decorative, but alive, statue. She shook her head, as she nearly collided with her captor. "Oof," she breathed, but managed to get her hands in front of her enough so that she didn't knock him over. "What?" she asked quietly. She followed his gaze, and swallowed heavily. "You can't be serious. Haven't you had enough for one day? What do you want with her? Please, can't we just go home?" He laughed, and turned towards Monique. "It's never enough ..." Monique sighed and closed her eyes. "It's never enough until your heart stops beating?" He nodded with a vague smile, seemingly surprised that Monique had recognised the reference. "She's a new mother, even you can see that. Why torture her?" "Who said anything about torture?" "Call it a precedent." "Always a lawyer." Monique flushed; it had been days since she had thought of herself as a successful lawyer. Her struggle to survive, and remain with a shred of her sanity, had pushed her former infatuation with her career onto the back burners of her mind. Understandably, she thought. How we change when we have to. She cleared her throat. "What do you want from her?" He smiled and shrugged. "I want to see her in the fountain." "I've already done that trick for you. Remember. Cold water? Goosebumps?" He smiled again. "I want to see her in there instead." "Why?" "Control." Monique hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Is this your way of making me offer to take her place? It's not fair. If you want me to wade for you in the middle of this stupid mall, I will. You don't need to play these games." He looked surprised, as if he didn't realise that he was being transparent. Or perhaps, he hadn't considered that Monique would offer herself in place of the young mother. "You'd change places with her?" "You know that I would. Stop it." She reached from the buttons on the blouse, the first one coming free before he stopped her. "No, Monique. With your clothes." She sighed, but quickly rebuttoned the blouse between her breasts. She stepped over towards the fountain. She shivered, thinking about the coldness of that water, and the clammy feeling that the tight jeans would have on her. She turned towards him, her eyes pleading with him. His visage fell impassive upon her. She searched for some hint of sympathy, or relent, but there was none. She sighed again, and turned. She reached over tentatively, touching her still bare toes to the water. She recoiled, her foot screaming to avoid this. Her mind pushed her forward again. "Monique?" The girl stopped, her toes only millimetres from the water. "Those clothes are going to be a bitch to get you out of if you get them wet." Confused, Monique shrugged. "So, now you want me in there naked, again?" Her fingers rose to the blouse again, toying with the upper button. He motioned her back. Puzzled, but thankful for the reprieve, she retracted her leg, and then walked quickly back to him. "What now?" she asked wearily. "Silly girl. I just wanted to talk to the mother -- not hurt her -- not turn her into a sex slave." "Then why do that to me?" Anger flashed for a moment in her eyes, but she quelled it. Anger here would get her into the fountain faster than any other approach. Despite her feelings of limited freedom, and his apparent kindness in the last half hour, she didn't want to push things. "Because you offered, and I did want you in the fountain. You looked -- nice in there." Monique sighed. A naked, controlled lawyer. "What are you going to do?" "Exactly what I was going to do before you interrupted me." He motioned her back a little. "Stand there." Monique obeyed, stepping back and away from him and then settling into an awkward standing pose. He turned towards the young mother. She awakened, glancing around the strangely quiet mall. A baby's cry emerged from the carriage, taking her attention. "Hello," he said pleasantly. Monique watched him carefully. She could see the butt of the handgun tucked into his waistband, but he hadn't had to use it since the bus. He made no move towards it now. The woman looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly. She glanced at Monique, and then her eyes lingered on Monique's bare feet and overly tight jeans with an mild expression of distaste. The girl was dressed as Monique used to -- expensive dress, and heels. Monique flushed, but held her tongue. The woman was probably disoriented, and certainly didn't know that she'd been forced to dress this way, which was far better than the alternative. Monique shifted her weight from foot to foot nervously. "Can I help you?" the woman asked. Her hands disappeared into the carriage, lifting out a newborn. Monique saw his eyes shift to the little one. "No," Monique whispered. The woman turned towards Monique, mystified by the odd pair. The Timeman cast Monique a glance, having obviously understood Monique's comment. "Is it a little boy or a girl?" Monique asked. She stepped in front of the Timeman. The woman glanced at her, dropping her eyes to Monique's bare feet for a moment, sizing her up, trying to determine if she was dangerous or not. Monique fervently wished for her dress shoes, or even a pair of sneakers. But that wasn't about to happen was it, and it was ironic that Monique was the one the girl was worried about. "A girl," the woman said. "Two weeks old." "Only two weeks?" The woman nodded, grasping the baby protectively to her chest. She glanced nervously at the Timeman, as if some maternal sense had triggered alarm. She looked like she was ready to flee. "She'd look nice, naked in the fountain," the Timeman murmured. Monique doubted if the girl had heard the comment, but she whirled anyway. "I would have stayed all night in there if you'd told me. She's only been a mother for two damn weeks. You're a sick fuck. You know that?" He stood laughing. "And she'd do anything for the baby. Probably even have sex with you." Monique paled. "Please," she begged. "Do you want me to crawl for you? Give you a blow job? Let you tie me up for hours? Let you whip me?" She paused, catching her breath. "I don't want any of that, but I'll do it. You know that. Leave her alone. Please." When Monique glanced over her shoulder, the young mother was watching, her eyes wide and nearly panicked. Her arms held the baby, who now was crying. "Please," she whispered. "Not my baby." Monique swallowed and moved closer to the Timeman, her breathing quickened. "Even you can't be that sick. Please take me, do whatever your sick mind comes up with. I'll do it for you. Just leave her alone." He nodded slowly, and turned towards the new mother, and the baby. "What's her name?" "Morgan," the mother said, her voice wavering. "Please don't hurt my baby. She's Morgan." "I won't let you hurt her," Monique said firmly. "You had better kill me, if you lay a hand on that baby." He laughed, and then, ignoring Monique, turned back towards the mother. "I wouldn't dream of it. Tell Morgan to have a wonderful life." The mother was crying now, her mewls mixing with Morgan's tearless wails. She nodded, her feet beginning to back away from the Timeman, and Monique. "Let her go," Monique whispered. "Please. She's scared." The girl cried out for a moment, and a last cry from Morgan filled the air. Then only the sounds of the fountain splashing vibrated the air. The woman again stood blissfully unaware of her ordeal, her hand upon the handle of the carriage. "Thank-you," Monique said quietly. "Do you want me to go swimming now? Or not?" She took a deep breath and held it. He slowly shook his head with a smile that reminded her of the smiles of triumph that appeared in old gladiator movies. She didn't know quite what had transpired here, or what she'd given up, but the mother was free of time, and the baby slept on in her carriage, unaware of the universe of time manipulation, and sexual slavery. Monique shivered as she let the breath out of her lungs. She began to walk again, her mind awhirl, towards the entrance where they'd arrived seemingly an eternity ago. She had a feeling that they'd be late for dinner. -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: 2.6.3ia Charset: noconv iQEVAwUBPvyKL0xM3srBk85hAQFotAf/VGDwOEYnCAm2fmLdipzfQkURx9e7nbr3 4HGXkem1UZkux+HsUdko8vqaLe6mZcOwOjiq9qeW1OSM1DVDoU0RwWBvggHOBUZG 4Pxu2NUhmXVB1PuaoxBwwS6mciwYlvhDV3jGwbnkrd7LOndagP9rbI2I46RSgEBz GPeFD85frhcJ5lJJeNp95FlT6xrElwPJT7KaYW70uIDY/Qd678X6hC7/zcoe9dX+ gJOBYMe5sNoAfT2fg32roQWLsl714QP2S/IqyDyaIt8EY9zx0GhPw5UGhWS1SVaG ckV94sFFH76DSjGQoegH1xRkBU0o7a++qCpW8ZsgZsdBhCsQg5fnig== =WlUO -----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 | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+