Message-ID: <11009eli$9805072338@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimson@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} New: Time Out Of Time - Chapter 80 (Mf+, bdsm, exh, nc) [80/??]
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <19980508023730.1129.rocketmail@send1d.yahoomail.com>
This story is full of all sorts of perverse and unlikely things. It
includes all sorts of bizarre things, which happen to turn some people
on. Things like bondage, non-consentual sex, exhibitionism, and even
incest. Minors need not apply. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.
Delete from incoming box. (Like you'll listen if you're a minor... but
at least you've been warned).
If this kind of writing causes you discomfort, if it bothers you or is
even likely to bother you, please don't read it. Consider yourself
warned. If you read it despite all these warnings and are offended,
what
the heck are you doing? Give yourself a shake.
I guess I should point out that this story is fictional. I have never
figured out time travel and if I did, I suspect I wouldn't misuse the
privilege nor would I engage in non-consentual sex or incest under any
circumstances nor would I counsel anyone else to do so. These are bad
things. <Does this really need saying? Isn't this common sense? Hello?>
Any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.
Also, let's be clear about this. Archiving of the story is OK. But
charging money for it (including charging for access to any archived
copies) isn't cool. Needless to say, giving me credit for the story is
not an option. This work is copyrighted by the author subject to the
above stated conditions.
This is a work in progress. I will continue posting it as long as there
is interest (both yours and mine). Any comments, good or bad, are
welcome. Suggestions for the storyline are also welcome.
I'd like to thank Rowan for her excellent feedback and commentary on
the
story thus far. She's now putting her talents into proof-reading the
story, and for this I'm appreciative. Hopefully, this will help keep
the
story lines lively, interesting and entertaining.
If you are still with me, read on and please enjoy.
- crimson
----------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 80 - Time Out Of Time
----------------------------------------------------------------
By Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)
----------------------------------------------------------------
Sheila took a deep breath, cringed again as something inside her
twinged with the motion, and threw off the covers. They landed pretty
much on Jane who was still kneeling on the bed beside her. It didn't
look like the cover thing was intentional on Sheila's part. I smiled.
"Ooof." Jane mumbled as she untangled herself laughing.
Sheila swung her legs off the bed and stood on her bare feet, slightly
swaying. I swallowed as I looked at her perfect figure. Her face
looked like it had gone through a war. Her hair was tangled. She
sported a number of minor bruises along her arms. Probably where Mayer
had gripped her before I met her. Her left thigh had a yellow bruise
just above the knee on the inside. Again, it looked like an older
discolouration. I motioned her over and she gingerly walked towards my
chair.
Her entire left side was purple. I closed my eyes, trying to imagine
the discomfort that she was experiencing. The angry looking bruise
began just below her breasts and extended all the way to halfway down
her hip. It wrapped around to her back and touched her belly on the
other side. A bright purple tinged with yellow.
I ran my finger slowly down the discolouration and she cried out
softly. She didn't back away, which surprised me. I really was
concerned that she had a cracked rib. I couldn't imagine anything else
causing this kind of bruise. If she did have a cracked rib there
wasn't a whole lot I could do about it. She'd just have to suffer. But
she seemed to be in decent spirits despite the pain. Perhaps she was
just glad that she wasn't under Mayer's control any longer.
I heard Christi whisper, "Oh my God," as she saw the injury.
Sheila spoke up. "I've had worse, you know. Don't worry about it."
I just shook my head in disbelief. I couldn't believe this girl was
standing here, much less calmly talking about it. She must have had an
incredibly high tolerance for pain. Perhaps she'd just learned to
accept it during her stay with the judge. I'd seen it inflicted on
her, but I had no idea that he'd kicked her this hard. Nobody deserved
this. Even a dog wouldn't have been treated this badly.
She calmly continued. "Last time I had one of these, he forced me to
crawl for him, he raped me, and then he laughed as he kicked me in the
same place again. I think I passed out. And the next day it was like
twice this big. And so purple. I bruise easily." Tears began to fall
from her eyes silently as she dispassionately described what had
happened to her. "It eventually healed. This will heal. If I don't get
kicked again."
I closed my eyes. It was going to be a pleasure watching these girls
go at this monster.
I rose and gently guided the injured woman from the bedroom. Jane and
Christi just followed us silently, their bare feet whispering across
the carpet. I leaned on the bathroom doorjamb as Sheila cleaned
herself up. She gasped as she splashed cold water on her face.
Gingerly drying it off. Dabbing at her right cheek. She picked up the
brush in her left hand and was unable to raise her arm to run it
through her hair. She transferred it to her right and raised her arm
again. Cringing at the pain from her left side. But she managed.
I heard Christi's voice close behind. "May I?"
I nodded. Even I was having trouble watching this beautiful creature
struggle with the pain. Such a simple task too. Brushing her hair. I
couldn't imagine her having to do anything strenuous. Like crawl. Or
be raped. Christi walked into the bathroom and gently took the brush
from Sheila. Sheila gladly relinquished it and Christi began to
carefully brush out the tangled blonde hair. Sheila tilted her head
back and sighed as Christi took care of her. Even with all the
bruises, all the pain, and absolutely no makeup, she was still
gorgeous.
"You know. I was never allowed to use this bathroom. I had to clean
it. But I wasn't even allowed to pee in here," she spoke to me. I
could have guessed as much. Servants use the good facilities? Even
unpaid sex slave servants? Never!
Christi finished and Sheila thanked her. She surprised me by walking
over to me and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. Rising up on her
toes carefully to reach my face with her lips.
"What?"
"Because I know that you could have made me brush my hair myself. Evan
would have."
"Oh."
"You want me to put on makeup? Cover at least these?" She pointed at
her cheek and eye. She was still worried about her appearance. She'd
been knocked to hell and back, and she was worried if she looked good
enough for me.
I shook my head. There wasn't any need. I didn't mind. The bruises
didn't particularly detract from her natural beauty. And the reminder
of the brutality might be useful in the hours ahead.
"He would have made me." Meaning Evan and her makeup. I could have
guessed that as well. Destroy a beautiful face, and then force her to
make it beautiful again. So he could destroy it again. All because of
a power trip. Bastard.
"Maybe later. You won't need it for now. You can stand to touch those
bruises enough to cover them with makeup?"
"I've done it before."
I shook my head. "It's alright. I'm not going to make you go through
that. At least not now."
"Okay. If you can bear looking at me."
I could stand looking at her. As I'd noted before, she still looked
ravishing. Despite her pain and the bruises. I doubted if there was
any way that you could completely destroy her natural beauty. She was
in the same class as Christi and Jane. Model material. High firm
grapefruit sized breasts. Long athletic legs. Tight ass. Long flowing
blonde hair. A real blonde.
I guided the girls around the hallway and stopped in front of the
business room. I had no idea what Mayer was doing in there, but I
doubted if he was happy. He'd been left in those ropes for a long
time. I hoped he was damn uncomfortable.
I unlocked the door. Before opening it, I glanced around at the girls.
Sheila was shaking and Christi had an arm around her shoulders.
"I. I don't know if I can go in there."
"He can't hurt you now."
"I know. But. You don't know what went on in there. What I had to do."
She drew herself up to her full height. Threw back her shoulders. Took
a deep breath. "I can do it." Taking some emotional support from
Christi's closeness.
"Okay. I'm going to talk to him first. I don't want you three to go at
him until I tell you. You'll get your chance. He might be offensive
towards you. Don't let it bother you. He's a coward underneath. Okay?"
The three females nodded.
I opened the door and walked in. Mayer was just where I'd left him.
Hanging with his arms bound above him. Jane's knots holding him
nicely. As the door opened he twisted in his bonds, looking over his
shoulder. His eyes widened as the girls followed me into the room.
"It's about fucking time," he exploded. "Do you have any idea how hard
this is on your arms?"
I walked in front of him. His eyes and head swiveled to follow my
movements. I sat down in his chair and silently regarded him. The
girls stayed out of his sight, standing easily behind him.
I spoke quietly. "I know exactly how hard that would be on anyone's
arms. In your case, I could hardly care less."
"This isn't funny," he continued. "Let me out of this right now."
"How long have you been like that Mr. Mayer?" A feminine voice from
behind him. Sheila. He didn't even bother to turn around. I don't even
think he realized that his former punching bag was in the room.
"What is this? Why'd you bring back the bitches? This is between you
and me."
"Answer her."
"A long time. Five. Six hours maybe," he gruffly answered. Still
talking to me and not to her. "And I demand that you let me out of
this. Fuck. I'm not a goddamn animal. Do you any fucking idea who you
are messing with?"
"Now you know what I felt like when you left me like this for a day
and a half. But you were kind enough to have me stripped naked and
gave me some entertainment. Between my legs. I begged you for hours to
let me down before I gave up and just hung there. Crying my eyes out.
You've only been there for five hours or so. Imagine what it would be
like for twenty-four. Or thirty-six pain filled hours. Just imagine. I
was sure that my arms were going to fall off. Why didn't you let me
down?"
Mayer twisted around. Finally realizing who was behind him. He sneered
at her. "So. Cunt. Come to see me again? Just couldn't keep away from
my handsome face, huh?"
I motioned for Sheila to join me. She carefully walked over to my
chair. Limping. Favouring her left side. Her small hands trying to
ease the discomfort. Pressing just outside of the purple bruise. She
just silently stood beside me, looking at her former tormentor. She
was shaking a bit, but she held his gaze. I was proud of her.
He spoke again. To her. "So, you worthless little slut, you finally
called some help in. Couldn't handle my love on your own? Cunt?"
I spoke, "She didn't call me in. I just stumbled into this. Decided I
didn't like you very much."
I could tell that he didn't believe me. I didn't particularly care.
"Well, bitch, are you happy? You belong to him now?" He smiled
cruelly. "Like your new decorations? They're kind of pretty. They
hurt? Answer me, you fucking worthless cunt."
I saw tears begin to form in her eyes, but she didn't back down. She
still held his gaze. I saw Jane had balled up her small hands into
fists behind him. She was barely keeping her anger in check. She was
shaking; she was that angry. But she didn't go at him. Obeying.
I touched Sheila beside me. I could tell that Sheila was fighting the
urge to answer him, as he'd demanded. She was definitely conditioned
to an extent. But she was fighting it. Successfully.
"You know what I'm going to do when I get out of this? And I will get
out. You are going to regret the day you were born. You think those
pretty bruises hurt you? Try some broken bones on for size. I'm going
to break every one of your fucking fingers. One at a fucking time.
Then I'm going to break your toes. With a goddamn hammer. Then I'm
going to fucking ream you until you fucking pass out, you goddamn
BITCH."
I sat calmly through this tirade. Sheila just stood beside me. Anger
and fear flashing across her bruised face. Her body was shaking. But
she had managed to keep a handle on her tears. I was surprised. This
had to be very difficult on her. Facing this guy.
I spoke gently from the chair. "Sir. There is no need to scream. We
can all hear you just fine without it. And swearing isn't really
necessary, is it? Now. I'd like to get something straight."
"Fuck you and the fucking horse you fucking rode in on."
"I'd like to get something straight here," I repeated, ignoring his
blustering. "Sheila is mine now. Got it? If you want to break her
fingers or her pretty toes, you are going to have to go through me
first. I happen to like her body intact."
"You fucking little asshole. When I get free of this, I swear, I'm
going to kill you." He sneered again. "And when I do, I'm not only
going to break her fingers and toes, I'm going to break the fingers
and toes of those bitches back there as well. Christ, I'm going to
enjoy doing that. They look like they'd be really good fucks while
they're screaming their lungs out." He ran out of steam again. Pulling
against the ropes that held him.
"You know as well as I do that that is really unlikely to happen."
"We'll see."
"After I let these girls go at you, I very much doubt if you'll care
about Sheila's fingers or toes. I suspect that you'll either be glad
to be alive, or wishing you were dead. Her pretty fingers and toes
will be the last thing on your mind. Believe me."
"Oooooh. Big man. Can't even deal with me himself. Has to tie me up
and let his 'girls' do his dirty work. That's real fair. Three on
one."
I calmly looked at him. "Let me get this straight. You blackmail a
girl. Hardly out of college. What is she, maybe a hundred, hundred and
ten pounds? Five foot four? Maybe five five? You keep her tied up.
Naked. Subservient. Because you can extort her because her brother is
an idiot and you. You claim to be a judge? Now that sounds fair. What
are you? Five eleven? Six feet? Two hundred pounds? Two fifty? Sounds
like a fair fight to me. Blackmail and physical size. Yeah. You play
fair."
He gazed at me with hatred in his eyes. Realizing that he wasn't going
to be able to intimidate me like he could the women. He tried a
different approach.
"You know. We're about the same, you and I. You are just deluding
yourself that you are different. Look around you. Check out the female
flesh. Your bitches. Your cunts. Your fucking little harem. You keep
women too. You rape them. You abuse them. Just like me. Only I was
smart enough to only take one at a time. You think you are going to
get away with this? You think they fucking like being under your
power? They'll turn on you too. Just like that bitch turned on me. You
fucking hypocrite."
Actually I knew I was going to get away with this. As long as I kept
control of the situation with him.
"Janey? Come here."
She walked towards me, stopping on the other side of my chair across
from Sheila. She gazed at the monster with utter disgust in her eyes.
I noticed for the first time that the girls were about the same
height.
"Evan? Look at her." That he didn't have trouble with. His eyes were
glued to Jane. Traveling up and down her proud bare body. Just his
type I would guess. Petite. Young. Smart. Feisty. And best of all,
naked. I watched his face as he imagined what he'd do to her. To her
fingers and toes before he fucked her. I pointed to Sheila's bruised
face. "Evan. Pay attention, you fuck. Look at Jane, then look at
Sheila. See any difference? I don't put these things on my women."
Referring to the bruises gracing Sheila's body.
"So? I'm a bit rougher. Give yourself time, and you'll do the same
thing."
"I think not. Jane? Given that you had to be someone's slave, who
would you prefer?"
"You, of course," she answered immediately.
"Sheila?"
"Please don't make me do this." She paused. Her eyes flicking to Mayer
then back to me. Probably still unsure if Mayer could get to her. She
took a breath. Made her decision. "Y-you."
"Christi?"
"You know my answer." From behind him.
I raised my eyebrows at him.
"You fucking little weasel. Let me out of this." He strained his arms
pulling at the rope on his wrists. There was no way that he had the
brute strength necessary to part the ropes holding him. And if I knew
Jane, there was no way he was going to get anywhere with the knots.
Hell, I had trouble untying her knots and my hands were free.
"Care to apologize to the ladies? Especially Sheila? Might make them a
little less angry with you."
"You can fuck right off. I have nothing to apologize for. They deserve
it. Every fucking bruise. Especially Sheila. Fucking worthless cunt.
Can't even fucking wear clothes. At least I dressed her."
I thought of the French maid outfit Sheila was wearing when I first
met her. Falling out of it, was more like it. Three sizes too small
for her. Some dress. But, I kept my opinions to myself.
"Evan? How many girls have you had here?"
"What the fuck is it to you?"
"Call me curious."
"Seven. Counting the bitch over there, eight. Mostly hookers desperate
to keep out of jail. What are you a fucking cop? A fucking FBI agent?"
"How many have you killed?"
He sneered. "Seven." I couldn't tell if he was lying or not. I thought
I saw truth in his eyes, but I had a hard time telling. It was easier
for me to tell if a female was lying.
Jane bent her head to my ear. She whispered, "I think he's telling the
truth." She shuddered. Jane was pretty good when it came to these
things. I believed her. Thus I believed him. I was dealing with a
goddamn serial killer here most likely. And I now knew what Sheila's
ultimate fate would likely be if I didn't intervene for her on the
prime timeline.
I nodded. I turned Jane's head and whispered in her ear. "Tie his
ankles apart." She looked at me questioningly but walked past him to
the closet to get some rope.
I held the madman's gaze until he finally looked away.
"Sheila?" he called his former slave. I wasn't sure what he was up to.
But I was taking Jane's warning seriously. Sheila might turn on me if
she was afraid of Mayer enough. "Honey? I didn't mean to hurt you.
Truly."
Sheila turned to me helplessly. Frightened.
"Awful big bruises for being unintentional," I commented.
"Tell him, Sheila. Tell him that I didn't mean to hurt you. You fell
down some stairs by mistake."
I waited wondering what she'd do. I knew what had happened. If you
renamed his feet stairs, then the descriptions might have been more
accurate.
Tears were forming again in Sheila's eyes. I briefly debated the idea
of getting her out of here, before he managed to get to her. If he
managed to regain control of her, I would have a hell of a time
reasserting myself as her master. I didn't particularly want to go
through that. On the other hand, if she managed to resist him, she'd
be well on her way to recovery. To usher her out, or have her stay and
fight him.
Jane emerged with the rope. She paused as she processed what was going
on. I could almost see her mind working. She was still behind him
holding the rope easily behind her, out of his sight.
Jane spoke up, saving me from making the decision. Mayer turned and
glared at her. "Sheila. Sweetheart. Look in a mirror. That one over
there." Sheila's mind locked onto the female voice and obeyed. Looked
at herself in the wall mirror. Cringing at the sight of herself. "See
that stain on the carpet?" Jane pointed to the remains of the bloody
caesar. Sheila nodded mutely. "When we found you, honey, he'd just
kicked the hell out of you because you brought him the wrong drink.
You couldn't pick the right one. They were both bloody caesars. Or
tomato juice. Or whatever the hell he put in them. It didn't matter.
That's the point. He'd poured the thing over your head, whatever it
was, and kicked you until you fell. He raped you. You wanted to have
sex with him after that? Did he even ask? Then he slapped you silly.
Look at your face darling."
Christi had walked slowly over to the weeping girl. Gently touched her
shoulder. She continued where Jane had paused, "He did this. You think
he didn't mean to hurt you? You honestly believe you fell down stairs?
This is your chance to kick the hell out of him instead of the other
way around."
I watched Christi and Jane in amazement. These naked women saying all
the right things. Far better than I ever could have. They far better
understood the workings of the female mind.
"You fucking little whore," he hissed at Christi. "Who the FUCK do you
think you are?"
Christi turned to face the judge. "Your worst fucking nightmare. I'm
going to make you wish you were never ever fucking born. It's going to
be a pleasure to kick the shit out of you. You worm."
Jane moved slowly in front of him. Still holding her coil of rope
loosely in her hands.
"What the fuck do you think you are going to do with that, bitch?" he
growled as Jane moved into his line of sight with the rope.
"I've been ordered to tie your feet," she replied with hate in her
eyes. She really didn't like this guy calling her a bitch. And he knew
it. He was taking advantage of it. Trying to provoke her. She'd get
her chance to get even. If she held on to her self-control.
"The hell you will. Bitch."
"I have to."
"You come within kicking distance and I swear I'll give you a kick
that will make that cunt's ribs look normal."
I nodded to Jane. It wasn't necessary to force her to endure one of
those kicks. She paused just outside what she judged was his kicking
range. She silently gazed at him, almost rage smoldering behind her
brown eyes. Waiting. I rose from the chair and walked over to him
until my face was centimeters from his. He didn't try to kick at me.
Knew better. "I'm getting real tired of your mouth."
"Too fucking b ... oooooooooooooofffff." The air collapsed out of him.
My right fist crashed into his stomach. I drove my left into his solar
plexus. He looked a little like a fish out of water. Trying to
convince his paralyzed muscles to breathe. Mouth silently opening and
closing. I smiled and motioned for Jane to continue. I walked slowly
back to my chair.
Jane knelt by his feet as he was far more interested in trying to
breathe than to worry about what she was doing. Jane had wrapped cord
around both ankles and tossed the ropes to the side before he could
draw breath. She had scampered well out of range before he had
recovered sufficiently to even think about kicking out at her. She
bent to tie the cords off to spread him, as ordered, but I signaled to
her to wait. She padded over to my chair.
"He'll resist you tying them off anyway. Wait until he's a bit weaker.
Just tie them off loosely so he can't get an effective kick at you." I
turned to Sheila as Jane moved off to tie off the ankle ropes loosely
to the eyebolts set in the wall. Sheila was still gazing at her
battered body in the mirror, tears silently tracing down her face.
"Sheila? You want the first shot at this guy?"
She was still crying a bit. She shook her head. She'd join in when she
was ready.
I motioned Jane and Christi. They didn't need to be told twice. He was
still shaky from my punches, and his face actually registered some
fear as the two girls approached him. It briefly crossed my mind that
I was really glad I wasn't in his place. I knew these girls.
_________________________________________________________
DO YOU YAHOO!?
Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com
--
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |