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Description

“So this is the intrepid Dawn Meadows?” came an unfamiliar boy’s voice. The sudden sound of a male’s voice, following the mysterious flash behind her was enough to startle the girl. She heard the sound of footsteps behind her. They were approaching. She could hear them stepping on the grey rolled paper of the backdrop. They were close!

“Oh, check it out! Control top pantyhose and short skirts!” barked the crude voice of another boy. He sounded less refined and more feral than the first.

“It’s like we’re in one of those period piece movies!” chimed a third boy. He was just as much a rascal as the second.

“It must have been a style of the times!” jokingly mused the crude boy.

What were they talking about? Turning to face her unexpected visitors, Dawn felt an arm reach around from behind her in a sudden burst of speed, a hand coming toward her face. She tried to comprehend what was happening, but the surprise of the motion made it difficult for her to react in time. Her eyes crossed as they tried to track. It was all a blur, really. She could make out a hand with a square white cloth cupped in the palm, and it was closing in on her face. Before the cloth reached her mouth, an acrid smell assaulted her nose and instinctively her body recoiled. Whatever it was, she did not want it near her face!

And her body reacted accordingly. She moved to get away. Or at least, she would have. If not for a pair of strong arms reaching around the attempt to flair her arms, and locking behind her waist. The action forced her back to arch in anxious resistance, tipping her head back in the process. She felt her head bump into the immovable presence of a male behind her. The sensation of having an unwanted male in such close proximity kick started a struggle reaction, but another strong hand clamped down on her slender wrist.

The confusing mounting octopus count of arms disoriented and frightened her. The fear of being assaulted from behind was only heightened by the grim understanding that there were multiple assailants. All of this mental gymnastics distracted her long enough so that she failed to do anything to avoid that white square cloth from clamping down on her wide open mouth. Like any good girl, she screamed. She screamed right into that cloth. And it was a good scream. A healthy scream. A long scream. And why wouldn’t it be? She was scared. But then came her body’s need to breathe. It was biology. After a scream like that? She needed a deep long breath. And boy did she take one. From behind the damp white cloth, with her nose pinched closed by the same boy’s hand, she sucked in a deep breath. There was no other choice. The acrid fumes burned her throat, and her shock wide eyes watered from the horrifying sensation.

Naturally her mind ordered the body to stop breathing, but the body was freaking out, and began hyperventilating, which made the mind panic, worrying that it would lose control, which it was, so the body freaked out even more. And on and on, Dawn gulped the noxious fumes. Her body bucked, the cords in her muscles showing through her slender limbs, all the while she was held in place by hands that were stronger than her body could possibly defy.

“This chick is a fighter!” yipped one of the boys holding her, the one holding the cloth to her resisting face.

“She ain’t nothin’ but a girl!” barked the other boy holding her defiant arms in place.

“This ‘girl’ is the one who helped that pathetic Emily Lockwood take down our entire operation, boys,” added the first boy, the one with the arrogant cool and collected voice. He walked closer as Dawn bucked wildly, desperations scent in her futile struggle. “But now that you mention it, here… at this age… before… you’re right. She’s nothing but a girl,” he said gently stroking the side of her smooth porcelain cheek. Carefully, he wiped at the tears forming in her watering eyes.

Dawn didn’t understand what they were talking about, or even who they were. It sounded crazy. Who was Emily Lockwood? Who were these creeps? Where did they come from? And why were they hurting her!? She tried to figure these things out. She really did. But it was all becoming so difficult. The fumes swirled down her slender throat, and wafted about her lungs before disappearing this way and that, throughout her body. As the sickly sweet toxin sponged through her limbs, it had the effect of passing by a long series of breaker boxes, flipping them into the “off” position. Little by little Dawn’s body was being shut down. She really tried to fight it, she did. But this stuff was out of this world.

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Here is part 3 of my brand new story, where Dawn Meadows runs afoul of some nefarious individuals. I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. Stay tuned for the next installment!

(This picture was made in Daz Studio 3.1.2.24 and post-worked in Adobe Photoshop CS2)

Description

“So this is the intrepid Dawn Meadows?” came an unfamiliar boy’s voice. The sudden sound of a male’s voice, following the mysterious flash behind her was enough to startle the girl. She heard the sound of footsteps behind her. They were approaching. She could hear them stepping on the grey rolled paper of the backdrop. They were close!

“Oh, check it out! Control top pantyhose and short skirts!” barked the crude voice of another boy. He sounded less refined and more feral than the first.

“It’s like we’re in one of those period piece movies!” chimed a third boy. He was just as much a rascal as the second.

“It must have been a style of the times!” jokingly mused the crude boy.

What were they talking about? Turning to face her unexpected visitors, Dawn felt an arm reach around from behind her in a sudden burst of speed, a hand coming toward her face. She tried to comprehend what was happening, but the surprise of the motion made it difficult for her to react in time. Her eyes crossed as they tried to track. It was all a blur, really. She could make out a hand with a square white cloth cupped in the palm, and it was closing in on her face. Before the cloth reached her mouth, an acrid smell assaulted her nose and instinctively her body recoiled. Whatever it was, she did not want it near her face!

And her body reacted accordingly. She moved to get away. Or at least, she would have. If not for a pair of strong arms reaching around the attempt to flair her arms, and locking behind her waist. The action forced her back to arch in anxious resistance, tipping her head back in the process. She felt her head bump into the immovable presence of a male behind her. The sensation of having an unwanted male in such close proximity kick started a struggle reaction, but another strong hand clamped down on her slender wrist.

The confusing mounting octopus count of arms disoriented and frightened her. The fear of being assaulted from behind was only heightened by the grim understanding that there were multiple assailants. All of this mental gymnastics distracted her long enough so that she failed to do anything to avoid that white square cloth from clamping down on her wide open mouth. Like any good girl, she screamed. She screamed right into that cloth. And it was a good scream. A healthy scream. A long scream. And why wouldn’t it be? She was scared. But then came her body’s need to breathe. It was biology. After a scream like that? She needed a deep long breath. And boy did she take one. From behind the damp white cloth, with her nose pinched closed by the same boy’s hand, she sucked in a deep breath. There was no other choice. The acrid fumes burned her throat, and her shock wide eyes watered from the horrifying sensation.

Naturally her mind ordered the body to stop breathing, but the body was freaking out, and began hyperventilating, which made the mind panic, worrying that it would lose control, which it was, so the body freaked out even more. And on and on, Dawn gulped the noxious fumes. Her body bucked, the cords in her muscles showing through her slender limbs, all the while she was held in place by hands that were stronger than her body could possibly defy.

“This chick is a fighter!” yipped one of the boys holding her, the one holding the cloth to her resisting face.

“She ain’t nothin’ but a girl!” barked the other boy holding her defiant arms in place.

“This ‘girl’ is the one who helped that pathetic Emily Lockwood take down our entire operation, boys,” added the first boy, the one with the arrogant cool and collected voice. He walked closer as Dawn bucked wildly, desperations scent in her futile struggle. “But now that you mention it, here… at this age… before… you’re right. She’s nothing but a girl,” he said gently stroking the side of her smooth porcelain cheek. Carefully, he wiped at the tears forming in her watering eyes.

Dawn didn’t understand what they were talking about, or even who they were. It sounded crazy. Who was Emily Lockwood? Who were these creeps? Where did they come from? And why were they hurting her!? She tried to figure these things out. She really did. But it was all becoming so difficult. The fumes swirled down her slender throat, and wafted about her lungs before disappearing this way and that, throughout her body. As the sickly sweet toxin sponged through her limbs, it had the effect of passing by a long series of breaker boxes, flipping them into the “off” position. Little by little Dawn’s body was being shut down. She really tried to fight it, she did. But this stuff was out of this world.

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

Here is part 3 of my brand new story, where Dawn Meadows runs afoul of some nefarious individuals. I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. Stay tuned for the next installment!

(This picture was made in Daz Studio 3.1.2.24 and post-worked in Adobe Photoshop CS2)