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From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimson@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} New: Time Out Of Time - Chapter 123 (Mf+, bdsm, exh, nc) [123/130]
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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-consensual 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.

If you are still with me, read on and please enjoy.

- Crimson


----------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 123 - Time Out Of Time

----------------------------------------------------------------------

By Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

We began slowly. From my sitting position, I gently caressed her bare 
skin with my fingertips. I ran my fingers along her stretched legs, 
along her tummy, along her ribs. I teased her, purposely avoiding her 
breasts and pussy. She squirmed, occasionally gasping, pulling against 
her bonds as my fingers explored her body. I continued, touching her 
face, her thighs, her underarms, her calves, her knees, her toes. I 
continued until I could see her arousal between her legs. She couldn't 
hide it, unable to press her legs together.

One word emerged from her lips, "Please."

I had her begging already.

She closed her eyes to better feel the soft gentle touches over her 
silken skin.

Abruptly I stopped and stepped off the bed. She cried out as the 
stimulation left her soft skin. I rummaged in the pack as she watched, 
not saying a word.

I carefully slipped a blindfold over her eyes, which she allowed 
without complaint. I couldn't gag her, because the safeword was 
verbal. I didn't want her gagged anyway.

I picked up the crop, realizing that I hadn't used it on one of the 
women in a long time. I let it fall gently into my palm, feeling the 
sting of the leather. This was going to hurt her. I hoped that she 
wouldn't safeword out. I wanted this to work for her.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly, unable to see the crop but 
hearing it.

"I'm going to whip you," I spoke gently to her.

"Oh God," I watched as she shuddered in her restraints at the words. 
"Not too hard. Okay?"

"I'll hit you as hard as necessary. Now I want you to do something for 
me."

"What?" she asked breathlessly.

"I want you to concentrate on turning the pain into arousal. Alright? 
And I want you to count."

"Count?"

"Everytime the crop touches your skin, I want you to count for me."

"How high?"

I was thrown again by this helpless girl. She switched tracks so 
quickly.

"What?"

"How many times are you going to hit me?"

"How many do you deserve? You pick."

"I can't. Don't ..." she began.

I relented. "Ten."

"Only ten?" she spoke mischievously.

"Would you rather have fifteen?"

She shook her head. She inquired quietly. "Where?"

"Where am I going to hit you?" I asked her for clarification.

"Yes. Please not on the breasts. Please?" She began to beg, even 
before the first blow fell on her helpless body.

"You have a safeword. I'll hit you where I think you need it," I 
reminded her. "If it's too much, safeword."

"I. I don't want to."

"I don't want you to either."

I took a deep breath and let a soft stroke fall onto her stretched 
belly. A red stripe appeared contrasting against her pale skin.

"Arrrrghhhhhhhh," she screamed into the room, twisting in the bonds. 
Her fingers twitched as she struggled with the steel bands. All she 
wanted in the whole world was to get her hands to her bare belly, to 
protect it and comfort it.

I waited until she calmed herself. The stroke had been light, not 
anything to cause her too much trouble. I'd increase the strength as 
she could take it, but I was more interested in getting her to feel 
her helplessness, her vulnerability than to actually hurt her. This 
was nothing compared to what Jane, or even Amy, had endured at my 
hands. And they hadn't had a safeword.

"Concentrate," I whispered to her.

"Christ. That was a light one, wasn't it?" she spoke in ragged breath.

"Yes."

"Oh God. Nine more?"

"Nine more."

The numerals she had spoken reminded her.

"Christ. One," she spoke without further hesitation. "I can't take 
ten. Even like that."

I let the crop fall against her right thigh, marking it as well. She 
screamed again, not expecting the pain. I watched as she struggled to 
control her voice, her pain. Her face contorted with the effort. That 
blow was slightly harder. Finally, after some incoherent gasps, she 
managed to remember to say, "Two."

I wasn't in this to punish her. I wasn't going to restart the count or 
anything if she forgot to count. This was her game, and she'd remember 
on her own time.

Her bare body was sheened in perspiration as my sixth stroke fell onto 
her bare left foot. The third had graced her left thigh. The fourth 
had kissed her right calf. Five and six had caressed the bottoms of 
her bare feet. Each blow was slightly harder than the last.

Eventually she gasped out the word, "Six."

She didn't stop there. She began to beg coherently.

"Please. I need you. Please stop hitting me. I. I'm so turned on. Just 
touch me. You don't need to hit me anymore. Please? I'll do whatever 
you want. I'll fuck you. I'll suck you. Anything. You can make me do 
anything anyway."

Her lips formed the words in a tumbled rush, her teeth gritting 
against the pain.

"Elizabeth?" I ventured.

"Yes, master?" she was breathing heavily. I still hadn't touched any 
of her obvious erogenous zones. I had purposely avoided her breasts 
and between her legs. She was pulling rhythmically against the ropes 
holding her.

"Are you ready for something else?"

"If you don't hit my feet again, I swear, I'll do whatever you want."

"Beg me."

"Beg for what?" she asked, slightly confused. I didn't answer her 
right away. After a moment, the blind bare girl tried something. 
Anything was better than lying there not knowing what I was going to 
do to her. "Please. Master. This slave begs to be fucked. Fuck me. 
Please?"

Well, that certainly increased my arousal. If it was possible.

"Beg me to hit your breasts," I whispered to her gently.

"Oh Christ. I can't. No," she responded, fear reflecting in the set of 
her lip. She had probably been wondering why I'd avoided her breasts 
up until this point. They were beautiful there, protruding from her 
chest, heaving with her breathing. Bare breasts, just aching to be 
touched with the crop. No defenses.

"Beg me."

"I can't. Don't make me do that."

"Concentrate, Elizabeth. Concentrate on turning the pain into 
pleasure."

"It's hard. It hurts."

"I know it does. Concentrate."

I could see the concentration flow across her lower features. Her eyes 
still hidden by the blindfold.

"Hit my breasts? Please, master?"

I nodded to myself, she was ready. I lifted the crop and let it fall 
against the tops of her sensitive and helpless breasts. The cry far 
outstripped any other I'd wrung from her.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh God. Oh God. It hurts. Fuck. Please no more. 
Fuck me. While I'm hot. Please. You'll kill me. Argh. Bastard." But 
she remembered to count. "Seven. Fuck. Only seven."

I waited patiently for her heaving body to settle. I could see her 
tears running down her face, leaking from beneath the strip of cloth 
covering her eyes.

When she had managed to get her breathing back down to a somewhat 
normal voice, she squeaked out a request.

"Please, sir. I. I don't think I can take another one, but hit my 
breasts again. Please?"

I smiled at that one, but I gently swung the crop up at the tender 
undersides of her small breasts. Again, the response was instantaneous 
as the red stripe appeared. She screamed out her pain, pulling in 
futility against the ropes holding her. I was sure that she was going 
to bruise herself. I could see all her desires to stop this pain. She 
wanted to cradle her breasts that had become the center of her world. 
She softly sobbed after counting out the eighth stroke.

She swallowed heavily and spoke again.

"Please. My breasts hurt. Hit me somewhere else? I can't take it 
again. Please? Why are you hitting me? I'm ready for you. I've never 
been more ready. Touch me."

I obliged her. True to her word, she was sopping wet. I could feel her 
heat before I even ventured a finger between her lower lips. She was 
lubricated beyond belief. She tensed and screamed as my finger lightly 
stroked her swollen clit. I withdrew, determined to finish this 
properly.

She cried out in frustration as the sensations left her clit.

I waited patiently, and finally her small voice spoke again.

"Hit me again. My breasts. Please. Make me hurt."

I smiled, an evil thought crossing my mind.

"Your nipples?"

"Oh God. No."

"Beg me."

"No. I can't. Not anymore. I'll safeword."

"No, you won't. You won't climax if you do."

She struggled in vain with her restraints. Frustrated. Wanting to 
touch herself even if I wouldn't. She didn't care.

"You bastard. Okay. Hit my nipples. Please."

I took a deep breath, watching her tense. When she finally relaxed her 
muscles, I let the crop fall against her swollen nipples. She wasn't 
expecting it and she opened her mouth and screamed soundlessly into 
the room. Her entire body tensed thrashing against the ropes. Her 
ankles nearly pulled the bedposts from their sockets. Her wrists were 
bright red from fighting the steel trapping them.

Then her voice finally made it down to normal human hearing range she 
sounded like a wounded animal. I hadn't softened the stroke, leaving 
her with the ever increasing power of the crop. I couldn't imagine the 
pain that she must be in.

"Ieeeeeeeieeeeeeeee. Ow. Please God. Make him stop. Fuck. Nine. One 
more. I can't do it. Oh God it hurts. Not my tits. Anything but that."

She collapsed into hysterical crying, constantly pulling at her 
wrists. I could tell that all she wanted was to curl up into a ball 
and alleviate the pain washing over her. After a few minutes she 
slowed her breathing. I gently kissed at her red and swollen nipples, 
caressing them as best I could, trying to help her turn that agony 
into pleasure.

"Lazarus," she spoke with a shudder in her voice.

I immediately pulled away from her, honouring our agreement. She was 
still in tears, but she must have been in serious pain to use the 
safeword. Perhaps I was being too rough with her. I reached for the 
blindfold, but she spoke as she felt my fingers at her face.

"Please. Leave it on me."

"Alright. What's the matter?"

"Fuck me. I need you now. I can't take anymore pain to my breasts. 
Please understand."

"I understand. But I'm not going to fuck you."

"Please? Oh my God. Why?"

"Because you stopped. I told you that we both had to agree to 
continue. And I'm not sure I want to."

"Oh God. I went through that for nothing?" she cried out pitifully.

"I will continue if you like," I spoke gently to her, stroking her 
face with my fingers. "You can finish." I wasn't sure of that. She 
wasn't the type of girl to call safeword for no reason. She was nearly 
beat.

"Please. I can't take anymore on the tits."

"I know."

"You won't hit me there?"

"I'll tell you what. You can safeword back in by saying 'Lazarus' 
again. If you immediately beg me to hit you between the legs for the 
last stroke, I'll play," I said to her with a grin on my face. I was 
curious what she'd do. Stop. Or continue.

"You can't be serious. Not there. Hit my thighs. My feet again. You 
liked that." She swallowed. "Hit my breasts again. I'll take it 
somehow."

"You have your options. You can say 'Free me', or you can say 
'Lazarus'."

I shut my mouth, determined to play this out properly. She lay quietly 
in her bonds, pulling against them, crying softly at her predicament. 
She was still highly aroused, I could tell. I could scent her musk 
from sitting beside her. And I wanted her.

"Will you fuck me?" she asked into the room, not being able to turn 
her head accurately towards me. I fought down my urge to answer her.

"Will you at least let me masturbate myself if you let me go?"

Again I had to fight with myself to force her to make the decision on 
the information she had. Truthfully, I wouldn't deny her the climax in 
whatever form she wanted. This truly was her show. But she didn't know 
that. She'd almost fallen completely into the submissive role for 
this. It was part of her game, even after she'd safeworded out.

She shuddered and took a deep breath. Obviously she had arrived at 
some decision.

"Free. Free. Free," she stuttered. "Fuck. Lazarus," she said in a 
strong clear voice.

I stepped back from the bed and waited beside her bound form. Within 
fifteen seconds her small voice issued forth.

"Please? I'm begging you to reconsider. Talk to me."

"Beg me."

"Please. You don't have to hurt me like that. I can't."

"Why did you safeword back in, if you can't take it."

She thought about it for a moment, tears beginning to form beneath the 
blindfold again.

"I. I don't know. You wouldn't talk to me," she admitted.

I refused to answer her, letting her think. I could see her desires 
warring across the features of her face that I could see. She wanted 
the experience, but the pain was so intense. I couldn't pretend to 
understand what she was going through, but I knew it wasn't easy. 
Finally, after a few minutes of thinking, her voice began again, soft 
and pleading.

"Please. Hit my pussy. I can't take it, but I need you. I want you. 
Hit me this one last time. Why couldn't you have picked 'nine'. My 
poor body. Please don't hit me hard." I let the crop fall one last 
time between her legs. I still had never figured out how hard to hit a 
girl there, despite practicing on Amy so often. I was a gentle as I 
could, but I suspect even the most gentle tap on such sensitive skin 
is exceptionally painful for them. The tip of the crop sank deeply 
between her puffy lips, I felt it connect squarely on the rigidness of 
her pubic bone. I was sure that I'd connected with her clitoris. It 
took a moment for the reality of the pain to hit her.

She nearly sat up, nearly wrenching her shoulders from their sockets. 
She screamed loud enough to make the windows rattle. She cried and 
begged for minutes, sobbing incoherently, trying to curl her 
restrained body into a ball, wanting to close her legs, bruising 
herself in her struggles. I felt like I was forcing this on her, when 
she'd chosen it herself. I cringed at her obvious distress and pain. I 
hadn't meant to hurt her quite to that extent. I felt like I did when 
I punished Jane, or Amy and accidentally went too far. Only Jane and 
Amy had never had any options for safeword.

She finally collapsed against the bed, her bare body wracked with 
sobs. After a while of watching her, she finally whispered a coherent 
word, breathlessly.

"Ten. Thank God. Ten."

I let her cry for a few moments, inspecting her body as she struggled. 
There was no blood, except where she'd cut her wrist on the handcuff 
on that last blow. The blood at her wrists wasn't serious. I was sure 
she'd be tender, her breasts and clitoris, but there would be no 
lasting damage. Even if I was keeping her, I wouldn't have worried. 
She'd be fine after a rest.

I almost returned the crop to the pack, but then decided on something 
more interesting. I took the instrument of her pain, and held it to 
her face. I gently touched her lips with it.

Misunderstanding my intent, she gently kissed the crop, as though to 
thank it for her pain. Very erotic, but not what I'd intended.

"Elizabeth. I know you hurt. I'm going to try and make it better. 
Alright?"

She nodded, exhausted.

I pressed the leather against her lips again. "Open," I commanded her. 
With only a slight hesitation, she opened her mouth. I settled the 
crop between her teeth and she obediently held it. She was still 
crying inconsolably around it, her whole body shaking.

I knelt between her still outstretched thighs and slowly ran my tongue 
from her bare toes, up her leg, tracing the welts on her thigh. She 
squirmed at the touch to the welts, but forced herself to accept the 
tease.

I finally lay easily between her thighs, letting my tongue stroke 
gently across her swollen lips. Her sobbing slowly turned to gasps 
that I could easily hear around the crop. She whimpered as I purposely 
avoided slipping my tongue between the lips. I tasted her, smelled 
her. Her wet course hair felt delicious against my roving tongue. She 
was ready, had been for some time.

She murmured something around the gagging crop in her mouth. I was 
quite sure she was unashamedly begging for relief, for me to delve 
between her soft folds and lick her, let her finally get some pleasure 
amongst the torment. Allow her to climax as she had wanted from the 
beginning.

Acquiescing, I let my tongue dart between her lips. Her clit felt 
twice as large as it had last time I gave her oral sex, oh so long 
ago. I wasn't sure if it was due to the crop on it, or just her 
extended state of arousal. She moaned deep in her throat at she felt 
the soft contact of my tongue against her. She squirmed, trying to get 
more contact, but I insisted on teasing her. Nothing she could do 
about it.

I plunged one finger deep into her vagina, pumping slowly with my 
purposely slow rhythm. I could feel her frustration as she pulsed her 
vagina, wanting more, and faster. After teasing her for a few more 
minutes, I relented, letting my tongue trace around her clitoris in a 
faster circle, finding her natural rhythms within moments and feeling 
her body tense.

The crop fell out of her mouth as she screamed into the room. I could 
feel her body tensing beneath me, her vagina gripping and spasming 
around my inserted finger. I felt her peak, and I gently sucked at her 
again, plunging another finger into her. I felt her explode again, 
reaching a high plateau. Her cries filled my senses, as did her 
tensing. I flicked her clitoris again with the tip of my tongue, 
plunging into her with my fingers again. She climaxed again, for the 
final time. Soon, I felt the pulses within her body recede and her 
muscles stopped straining at her restraints.

"I'm done," she murmured. "I'm done."

Her bare body stretched out in front of me was flushed from her 
forehead to her bare toes. She was pulling again at the restraints, 
whispering to herself.

I lay beside her and released her eyes from the blindfold. Her deep 
eyes looked up at me. I could see wonder, pain and perhaps love in 
them as she looked up at me.

"Three. Thank you."

"Don't thank me," I smiled at her. "Thank yourself. You did it too."

She rattled her handcuffs held above her head.

"Can your slave ask for the use of her body back?" she asked almost 
shyly.

I smiled at her and moved down her body. As I was releasing her ankles 
from the ropes, she spoke quietly.

"That was the most wonderful thing that I've ever felt."

"Glad I could help."

"I hurt like hell, but it was worth every second of it. Christ. My 
tits are on fire. Please, let my hands go."

"Legs first. Then I'll let your hands go."

She lay back quietly accepting my decision. As her ankles were freed, 
she instinctively moved her sore legs together. Probably trying to 
ease the ache that must still be settled between her thighs.

I moved back up the bed to lie beside her. I reached up and slipped 
the ropes free that held her hands to the headboard. They remained 
handcuffed, but she was essentially free of the bed.

I'd expected her to immediately cradle her breasts or her pussy, but 
she didn't. She immediately reached down and touched me through the 
material of my jeans.

She whispered quietly to me. "Let me suck you? I want to have 
intercourse with you, but I think I'm too sore."

I considered refusing her offer. I didn't know what I'd be up to with 
Jane and Christi, but I had some ideas. And I'd already had sex with 
Sheila this afternoon. I wasn't sure I'd be able to perform later if I 
indulged with Elizabeth. I wasn't Superman.

But she'd already managed to release my jeans and unzipped my zipper. 
Even with her hands in handcuffs. She urged me to my feet standing on 
the bed. With an obvious effort, she rose to her knees, and knelt in 
front of me. Her small hands pulled at my jeans and underwear, baring 
me to her.

I closed my eyes, and felt as her fingers teased me. I was harder than 
a rock, my erection insistent and throbbing. Hurting her and then 
pleasuring her had turned me on far more than I cared to admit. But 
she knew that. Now.

I just about exploded as I felt her warm lips engulf me. Her soft 
fingers toyed gently with my pubic hair and my scrotum. I thought I 
heard her sigh as I entered her mouth. I willed myself to wait, to 
enjoy the sensations she was giving to me. But I knew I wouldn't last 
long.

I felt my hands circle to touch her bobbing head. Her hair was like 
soft velvet, as I guided her rhythm. As I knew it would, her soft 
mouth quickly coaxed me to the point of no return.

Groaning, I exploded into her. She didn't hesitate, or withdraw. I 
could feel her mouth still working on me as I climaxed, shooting my 
fluids into her mouth. She gagged a bit, but didn't complain as she 
swallowed my ejaculate. When I'd finished, she finally released my 
penis from her mouth, her tongue still lapping at me, cleaning me. She 
looked up at me with those deep eyes. I was going to miss her. 
Unbearably.

I sank to my knees, not bothering to dress. I hugged her tightly into 
me, feeling her feminine body against mine, her softness against my 
shirt, against my lower nudity.

"I don't want to go," she said softly into my ear.

"I don't want you to go. If there was any way ..." I began before she 
shushed me.

"I understand," she whispered.

I reluctantly broke the embrace and rose to my feet on the floor this 
time. I replaced my clothing. She knelt quietly on the bed, tears 
falling from her eyes. She looked on almost wistfully. She didn't have 
any clothing to replace, a fact that she was aware of at times like 
these. Her bound hands twisted into her lap. She looked up at me, and 
forced a smile to grace her lips. I couldn't help admiring her one 
last time. She was so feminine, so desirable kneeling there.

She slowly rose to her own feet, bare against the carpet of the 
bedroom. I wondered at the freedom of being barefoot for so long. No 
shoes. No socks. No clothing at all. I abruptly realized that this 
girl had not been allowed coverings for as long as I'd had her. And I 
don't think she ever had complained about it.

"Time to go?" she spoke softly and with regret.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. This was getting harder and harder.

I reached for her handcuffs, intending to finally release her from the 
bondage. She took a step back, slowly shaking her head.

"I don't mind. Leave them on me. Until I'm gone. Please?"

I nodded again, marveling at this woman. I opened the door for her and 
held it as she walked her bare body out and into the hallway. Together 
we walked down to the main floor. I cringed as I watched her move, the 
welts somehow seeming too deep and angry for this delicate creature. 
She didn't seem bothered by them, beyond an initial cringe as her bare 
soles touched the tile in the main hallway. The bottom of her feet 
would have been tender; I remembered hitting them harder than I'd 
originally intended as well.

She hesitated outside the library. She turned to me. "A private 
good-bye? Afterwards?"

"You got me," I spoke with a joviality I didn't feel.

She solemnly reached for the doorknob and swung open the door into the 
empty room. She glanced around confused. I had this fleeting vision of 
Christi running from the house as quickly as she could as I made 
violent love to Elizabeth. But then I remembered her request as I'd 
left her last time.

I touched Elizabeth and guided her to the dining room where we'd had 
the nice dinner a few days ago. Jane was perched on her window ledge 
quietly talking to Christi. Christi had dragged a chair over to the 
window and was sitting on it backwards, her chin resting on the 
backrest, her hands encircling the back of the chair. Jane stopped 
speaking as Elizabeth entered the room. Christi turned, her eyes 
closing as she took in the fresh welts on Elizabeth's bare body.

She rose out of the chair, her joined wrists hindering her.

Christi fixed me with her soulful eyes and spoke quietly. No anger or 
blame in her voice.

"You couldn't help it, could you. We heard her down here. I. I thought 
you were torturing her to death up there," she just sounded mournful. 
There was no accusing in her voice, just acceptance and perhaps 
disappointment. All the girls were still mine, no matter how much they 
knew I was releasing them soon. One look at any female's wrists and 
the bondage still holding them would verify that. They still were 
ultimately under my control.

Elizabeth stepped forward and hugged Christi, pressing her bare body 
into Christi's clothes, her still bound hands encircling Christi's 
neck.

"Sweety, I wanted him to do it. It was my last request. I wanted him 
to hurt me. It's okay. I won't feel it soon. But I wanted to feel it. 
My choice, for once."

Christi's eyes widened, and Jane nodded in understanding.

Christi took a deep breath and turned her face to gaze at Elizabeth. 
She spoke softly.

"I was jealous of you. And I still am. A little. But I love you too. 
I'm going to miss you." Tears began to run down her face.

"I'm. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

"I know," Christi spoke truthfully. "I got used to sharing. Took a 
while, but I did."

To prove her point, Christi leaned forward and gently kissed 
Elizabeth's lips, her only way of convincing the girl that she was 
forgiven for whatever had happened. Truthfully, I think that Christi 
always had understood.

Jane had lowered herself to her bare feet, walking over to the other 
embracing girls.

"I'm going to miss you too. A lot. You always tried to protect us. You 
always cared," Jane spoke softly as she struggled to embrace both 
Christi and Elizabeth. The girls remained together, crying softly and 
hugging each other for a few minutes.

Eventually, Elizabeth broke the embrace. She kissed both Christi and 
Jane on the lips.

"I have to go. I'm going to miss both of you terribly," Elizabeth 
spoke quietly.

I watched as Elizabeth turned away from the remaining two women, tears 
falling uncontrollably down her face. She lifted her hands to try and 
wipe them away, but wasn't very successful. As I guided her from the 
dining room, she turned and whispered one last "Good-bye", to the 
others, who were watching her leave silently through teary eyes.

We walked slowly to the entertainment room. I settled into the sofa. 
Elizabeth stood in the center of the room, watching me watch her.

"I remember that night, when you fed us that Italian food. And allowed 
us to use cutlery and shared your dessert. And then we watched movies. 
That was the most romantic thing I've ever done. So I was nude and I 
was tied up for the night. I didn't care. You know that?"

I nodded slowly. I wasn't sure what she was trying to say, but it 
seemed important to her. I'd enjoyed that night as well. The girls had 
all been happy.

"I wish that I'd be able to remember this."

"No, you don't," I admonished the girl.

She knelt easily on the carpet.

"Actually I do," she said quietly and I believed her. "If I had a 
choice, I'd stay with you. Even though I know you'd hurt me, I know 
that I ... that I don't mind it here. I. I feel wanted. I'm not sure I 
can explain it."

She waited there on her knees for a few minutes, thoughts of her 
captivity and her adventures flitting through her mind. Finally she 
rose to her bare feet again and stood in front of me.

She bent at her waist and kissed me passionately on the lips, her 
fingers caressing my face.

"Despite all the things I didn't like, there was more that I did. I 
hope that I can find them in real life."

"Perhaps you can," I spoke to her quietly.

She bent again, and I thought that I was going to feel her soft lips 
again. Instead she whispered in my ear.

"If you do this again, find me," she whispered in a voice that I 
wasn't even sure was hers.

She straightened back up, thrusting out her bare breasts almost 
proudly one last time. I swallowed heavily, tears forming in my eyes.

"Remember me," she whispered as she felt her time bubble begin to 
collapse around her. A moment later, she was gone, returned to her 
seat in that BMW with Catherine. I'd never found out what their 
relationship was. I regretted not knowing her better.

The handcuffs that she had worn clattered to the carpet, probably 
still warm from her. The necklace and the anklet that I'd given to her 
a day ago fell to the floor as well. I couldn't bear to pick them up 
as I rose heavily to my feet.

"Good-bye, my noble one," I whispered into the space where her beauty 
had just graced. It was getting harder. I missed her already.






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