A Crack in Time Ch. 01-02

"The crack in time is such that it does not require a machine at the exact point from which a person is transported. It requires only certain connections to be able to bring a person here from various places in the 21st century. It also requires no equipment back here in this time. All of the equipment is in a compound about half a mile from the castle in the 21st century. In this time, you arrived at a farm house in that location, from which you were brought by carriage.

"I have found that the "Back to the Future" sort of worries about changing the future are overblown. In general, time is stable. Perturbations are damped out with time so that a change in the past will have a decreasing effect over the years until it no longer makes any difference exactly what changed centuries ago. For example, were I to kill one of my ancestors, it would turn out that in fact he had been cuckolded and my descent did not really come through him anyway, so I would not suddenly cease to exist. On the other hand, were I to say, blast London out of existence with a thermonuclear weapon, the perturbations would obviously take much longer to dampen out, and we could see effects for centuries, though eventually decreasing. In any case, on a small scale, I can fiddle with things 450 years before without fear of it having any significant effect on the 20th or 21st centuries.

"So, my dear, you are here with me now, and your return is of course up to me. I can reassure you that your friends in the 21st century do not even know that you are gone. The crack in time is such that I can return you to the same moment at which you were extracted. In the 21st century, you will not have been gone for more than a millisecond, even though your time here can last for a considerable, though limited, time. As long as you do return before too long, there will be no hue and cry for a missing woman, no grieving friends, no futile searches. Of course, if I were to decide to keep you here permanently, after a period of time that varies with multiple factors, the world there would resume without you, and you never could return. While that is always a possibility, I expect that you will most likely end up back in North Carolina in 2005, but behaving yourself is always a good idea, just to be sure, don't you think? Unless of course, you take a liking to this barbaric age and decide you would really rather stay. That can be arranged.

Susan hung, open mouthed, as John gave her this explanation. She had to admit that the ride into the castle had seemed very, very real, as did the castle. If this were a movie set of some sort, an incredible amount of money, time and effort had been put into making it realistic. Still, she just could not quite buy the time travel story John was giving her. She decided that it made little difference whether he was telling her truth or not. Either way, she was helplessly exposed to his will. It was obvious no one was coming to her rescue.

"John," she asked, what more can you do to me. I will tell you whatever you want to know. My God, I told you nearly all of my secrets in our e-mails already. You already know my most secret fantasies. Let me go, and I will tell you anything else I can."

Shaking his head John replied: "You have told me the easy things – the things about which you obsess. The hard things, those you may not even know you were hiding, as you may hide them even from yourself, Those are what I want to learn about you."

He continued sharing sips of wine with Susan until together they had consumed half the bottle.

The soldiers had gone back to the benches by the fire. The servant girl was gone for only a few minutes, returning with three more mugs of beer and giving them to the soldiers, who drained the end of first round and eagerly took the second, amid laughter and joking. Susan could see that the soldiers were teasing the girl about something. She took the empty mugs and again left the room.

John set down the bottle of wine and the glass. He came back to the frame. He carefully touched her breasts, feeling and stroking them. She felt her nipples hardening under his touch. From the table next to the frame, he took a large needle, with a leather thong already threaded through the eye. He passed the needle over the flame of a candle sitting in a candlestick on the table. With his left hand, he pulled her left nipple, stretching it toward him. With his right he brought the needle to her nipple.

She could see that he was about to pierce her with needle and she screamed in fear: "No, John, you wouldn't. Please don't. I beg you don't hurt me like that.

John grinned: "But Susan, you have fantasized about having your nipples pierced. I am but fulfilling your wish."

With that, he began pressing the needle sideways into her nipple at the base of the nipple. The pain was terrific. She screamed, but he maintained the pressure on the needle forcing it through her nipple, and out the other side. Then, he took the point of the needle and pulled it through and out the other side of her nipple, The pain was excruciating. She could feel with agony as the eye of the needle, with the doubled thong, was pulled forcefully through her nipple. She thought she would pass out from the pain. Actually, she wished she could. She moaned in pain. He dragged a length of the thong trough her tortured nipple, dragging the rough leather through the raw hole in her flesh. She could look down and see blood running from the wound, down her breast.

He then grasped her right nipple and pressed the needle tip into it, to repeat the torturous process, again causing her to scream. She dared not struggle, much as she wished should could. She began to swear at him: "You cruel bastard, she screamed. That was just a fantasy. This is real, and it HURTS. Oh god please stop. I will tell you anything you want"

Ignoring her words, he pushed the needle into and through her right nipple, again drawing the leather thong on through. Now her nipples were strung like pearls. There was blood running down her chest. Her nipples were on fire, throbbing. The pain was agonizing.

John tied one end of the thong to a peg on one side of the frame. Then he stretched it out and tied it to a turn peg of some kind on the opposite side of the frame. The thong went in a straight line from the peg, across through her nipples, and to the turn peg at the other side. He began tightening the thong on the turn peg. She could feel the thong being pulled through the raw wounds in her nipples as he tightened it like a guitar string. The blood ran from the wounds. Her chest was screaming pain at her, and Susan was screaming. She didn't know she could feel this much pain. She felt near to fainting.

John said: "Now see how easily I can aggravate your pain." He simply plucked the taught thong, like bass fiddle string. It vibrated in the bare flesh of the piercing wounds, causing greater pain with each vibration.

She convulsed in agony, her body being literally played like an instrument, and the song was one of torture. He plucked at the string several times, each time causing repeated intense pain in her nipples, and radiating out through her body.

Then, John tilted the frame back, so she was lying backwards, roughly horizontal. He walked around the frame to stand by her head. "Susan darling, we must protect those wounds from infection. I know you have a fantasy of having wax poured on you, so let's do it that way.

Susan screamed yet again: "Nooooooooo, pleeeeeeese, don't do this to me!" But as always, her words had no affect.

John picked up a burning candle from the table and held it high above Susan's breasts, He tilted the candle to one side, allowing the wax to drip onto her chest. She felt the searing heat of a drop of wax on her left breast. It splashed on the upper curve of her breast, missing the nipple, John moved the candle slightly, causing the next drips to fall directly on her already inflamed nipple. Again she screamed at the heat, the hot waxing sticking to her highly sensitive nipple, seemingly burning itself into her flesh. He repeated this process on her right breast, the wax dripping first on the side of her breast, and then moving over the nipple, causing searing fire in her nipple convulsing her in more agony. Her body, which, moments before, had convulsed in pleasure, now convulsed in pain.

"There my dear" said John, "was that how you imagined it would feel in your fantasy?"

She thought about it, conscious of the need to respond before he decided to inflict more pain. Through teeth gritted in pain, she managed to grunt out: "I never imagined such pain was possible."

"Oh, dear Susan" he replied, "this is only the beginning." And with that, he gave the frame a spin causing her to revolve head over heals. With each rotation of the frame, her breasts hung first up, and then down, the thong strung through them rubbing inside the wounds, the agony continuous, spreading through her chest, causing her core to clench. Susan, screamed and screamed and screamed as the frame went round and round and round.

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To be continued, if feedback warrants. All comments, public and private, gratefully accepted.

This story is dedicated to Susan of the delicious kinks, who inspired it and for whom it was written, with love.