Dreams and Desires (67 page)

Kelly, when awake, was filled with dread. She knew that if the enemies of her dream man were successful, all her sacrifice for him would have been in vain. She loved him so much that she didn't really care about her own fate. She would give her life for him if given the chance. But she doubted she would be capable of any volitional concerted action by the time they got to wherever they were going. Her mind was befogged with acute physical need for the man. She felt herself bursting with the essence she had drawn for him from his world. Her pussy burned with desire for him, her breasts ached. She wanted to beg the men who had taken them to allow her to be near him, to let her caress him, feel his body next to hers. But, even if she had not been gagged, she was barely conscious enough to form words when she was conscious at all.

The frantic woman could feel Ramon's mind as he made contact with her. She sighed with temporary relief when she felt his calming energies. But it did not last long. Moments later, she would be fierce in her need, her mind ajumble with both her lust for him and her fear. And then, mercifully, she would pass out.

But even sleeping was a mixed blessing. Her mind would go to that flowered field where she had first seen the dream man. The mist would come, and, although her body was already suffused with the energized fog, it would surround her and enter her, belying her belief she could absorb no more.

When the plane touched down, the prisoners were hustled off of the plane and into three separate awaiting SUV's. They were driven directly to the hacienda and brought into the reception room. Kelly had to be held up by the men who escorted her. Her body was too weak to walk.

A crowd of Apaches were awaiting them when they were escorted into the large room. Ramón could hear them murmuring in their strange tongue as he stood there awaiting the arrival of his adversary. He could detect the being's presence in the minds of some of the women in the room, women who had been tormented and ruled by him for many years. And he sensed the renegade's familiar, Diane. Ramón had never visited such a tortured mind, even when he had gone to see her sister, Nadine. He saw how the renegade had driven her to agonized, mental pain, had abused her unmercifully. This would be the fate of his familiar. His heart came close to breaking as he thought of her at the renegade's mercy. This was love, he knew it now. He was in love with her and he could not bear the thought of her suffering. He had to win, he just had to. It went beyond his ethical obligation to ameliorate the vast suffering the erstwhile agent of the Whole had caused. Anger rose up in him and he twisted his confined arms behind his back. He had to get free! He just had to!

The room fell into a hush when Blackthorne entered. He was followed by the cowed and terrified female he had converted, Jackie. Ramón sensed them both as they walked through the doors. He was revolted at what the renegade had done to her. At the same time, he felt the other being's extreme power and confidence. It did not bode well for him at all.

Jonathan had donned the white ceremonial garb that denoted his assumption of the role of Jitendra, Lord of Conquerors. The heavy, feathered bearskin cap was on his head and he was dressed all in white deerskin. He walked quietly and confidently over the soft rug in his white moccasins. He sensed the mind of the pursuer reaching out to him. As he had predicted, his mind was weak and as yet untrained as compared to his. He realized he had nothing to fear. This was going to be fun.

Blackthorne stepped up on a platform in the front of the room. All eyes in the crowded room were on him. The shaman, draped in his ceremonial robes, was seated in his ceremonial throne on his right. Standing to his left was the woman, Barbara Feathers, the high priestess of the tribe. She was also dressed in her sacred garb, a long, tasseled, white deerskin sheath bedecked with multicolored beads and feathers. His familiar, Diane was kneeling in front of the platform to its right. She looked haggard and tired. He had not been down to her subterranean prison to drain her of her mists for a while and Jonathan could feel her fullness. He had instructed his acolytes, who were kneeling obediently next to her, to dose her with the hallucinogenic peyote mixture several hours ago so he could reenergize himself, if necessary, after his engagement with the pursuer. He sensed he would not need it, but he would enjoy draining her in the presence of his subjects as part of his victory celebration.

The tension in the room was palpable as the three bound and hooded prisoners stood before the crowd of expectant men and women. Some of the female ‘nurses’ from the dream lab were there along with Dr. Morton, who had a more than academic interest in the proceedings. There were fifteen or so of the tough, muscular Apache security guards around the room, men who, like a modern Praetorian Guard, had sworn to protect and serve the god-like white man. There were household servants there and those members of the Tribal Council who could get there at short notice, dressed in their workaday business attire. Altogether, there were somewhat over a hundred spectators in the large, sumptuously decorated room, sufficient to spread the news of his power and the vanquishing of his foe. Blackthorne felt as he believed Julius Caesar must have felt when he forced the defeated, mighty King of the Gauls, Vercingetorix, to strip and bow before him in front of his legions. Caesar's struggles to conquer Gaul had lasted six years; his wait for the opportunity to defeat his nemesis had lasted five. The result would be the same, the winning and securing of a vast empire ruled by the dictates of a single man.

Blackthorne raised his hands to draw the attention of the crowd which had been peering inquisitively at the three prisoners. He spoke to them in their native tongue.

"
Five years ago, I came among you with a promise to bring the Apache people power and honor. I have kept my promise. Today, men and women of your tribe sit in places of responsibility in some of the richest corporations of America. Wealth flows into the reservation like a mighty river. I have built schools for your young, houses for your people to live in, medical facilities for the sick. And I have supplied you with the service of my many captives, young, beautiful women to serve the needs of the young men and to act as servants to your women. The Americans and the Mexicans, your ancient enemies, no longer threaten you or steal your children to be slaves to their lusts, poison them with their powders and their liquor. The Apache nation stands again on the verge of greatness.

There was only one thing that stood as a threat to the renewal of Apache power, to the defeat of its enemies. It was prophesied a man would come, a pursuer, who would seek to defeat me, to take me away from you. Now, he has come. But I have captured him and he stands before you this day as my prisoner. I have called you together to watch as I defeat him. I will send him back to the ghost world from which he came, or, if he will not go, I will destroy him here in front of you. Nothing will stand in the way of Apache greatness and our path to power."

For a moment, the audience was silent. Then, from the back of the room came a loud, fierce warrior's whoop. The crowd broke into a cacophony of celebration. Blackthorne smiled as he absorbed the adulation of the small crowd. These were his people, his allies, the soldiers of his coming empire. After today, he would reach out to the other Apache tribes, the Mescaleros, the Lipan, the Jicarilla and others. From there, they would branch out and recruit other surviving Native American groups, the Comanche, the Arapahoe, the Sioux. Like the Mongols of old, his ‘barbarians’ would sweep the land and claim all of the positions of power. But his conquest would not be made by force of battle. He would use his ability to corrupt the weak culture and his technical knowledge to dominate their economy, to install his loyal servants in positions of power. By the time anyone knew what was going on, it would be too late to stop it. It might take a hundred years to complete, but he had plenty of time now.

Ramón could not understand the words his enemy spoke, but he could read his mind. It was clear Jnthrn was mad. Here was positive proof. The sickness that had made him turn renegade had become a megalomania. He would bring down the entire planet in an ever increasing obsession to rule and control it. Like the twentieth century madman, Adolph Hitler, he would initiate a chain of destruction that would result in a world-wide conflagration. Ramón did not know how he would gain access to his weapons, but it was essential he did.

The Whole would be devastated by the harm it had unintentionally brought to this world. It would be such a shock to its core it might precipitate a fatal decline, a loss of will to exist. More than the lives and welfare of his familiar and his servants were at stake. He twisted and turned his wrists in the steel confinements that encircled them. He could feel his skin burning as he tried to draw his hands free. But the manacles had been drawn too tight. He could not free himself. Fate would somehow have to intervene. His mind searched the room for an ally. It was difficult to isolate the individual minds of the females in the room due to the intermingling of all of the excited psyches. But then he felt it. One person, one sole doubter existed. All would depend on her.

Jonathan, feeling the time for the entertainment to begin ordered the bound and hooded, brown haired girl, Lucy, be brought to him first. Lucy was shivering with fear as she heard the man speak in the odd, guttural language. She had no idea where she had been brought, but knew something very bad was going to happen to her. She yearned for the protection of Ramón and had been trying to find him with her mind. When she felt strong, masculine hands grab her arms and drag her to the center of the crowd, she wanted to scream and plead for mercy.

The terrorized girl was made to face the excited crowd. A cheer went up from them in anticipation of the prospective demonstration of their demi-god's power. Lucy felt her hands being released as well as the chain that had connected her ankles. At the same time, her hood was removed and someone brutally ripped the tape that had covered her lips free from her face. She cried out at the pain of her torn skin, placing her now freed hands over her mouth. And then she lifted her tear filled eyes and took in the throng of feverish onlookers. It was a sea of dark, unfriendly faces. She tried to make a dash for the door, but the way was blocked and she was pushed back into the middle of the room. She tried it again and again, until she finally fell to her knees and began to sob uncontrollably. Her graceful, bare legs lay beneath her and her little skirt rode up on her thighs. “Pleeeease!” she yelled. “Pleeeease let me go! Pleeeease!"

The crowd of foreign looking people laughed and mimicked her frantic pleas. She had not noticed the bound and hooded forms of Ramón and Dr. Jameson, and the sight of them now drove her deeper into despair. She leaned over, placing her head between her thighs and began to sob.

Jonathan had enjoyed the little show put on by the distressed, young woman. He felt he should complement his pursuer's taste. She was a delightful creature, one he would be pleased to torment and abuse. Her levels of unhappy emotions was quite high and he enjoyed the sampling of them. But her display of grief at her predicament was getting boring. It was time to act. He raised his hands to silence the crowd again.

"
This white woman belongs to my enemy. He has made her his slave. But here, he has no power. Watch while I take her from him."

The intrusion of the evil dream man's mind into hers felt like a knife had been shoved into Lucy's brain. She had not even been aware of his presence. But she was now as he filled her mind with his terrible will. She grabbed her head and screamed “Nooooooooo!” as she felt her connections to Ramón slipping away. The dread she had felt all the previous day was becoming reality. Her mind protested when she was given the command by her new, demonic master to stand. But her body obeyed it. The crowd was quiet now and she felt all eyes on her as she rose to her feet and turned to look at the man who was enslaving her. When she looked into his hard, cold, blue eyes, she shivered with fear. She knew she could not resist him. She groaned with agony as she felt him fill her with a terrible lust for him. She needed him, needed to obey him, craved for contact with his flesh. She stepped slowly up to the platform where he was standing and her hands unconsciously reached for the hem of her light green, cotton blouse and pulled it over her head. She cast it aside and then reached behind her to loosen her skirt. She unzipped it and let it fall to her feet. Rueful now that she had dressed so provocatively for Ramón, the curvaceous and appealing young woman now stood before the callous crowd and her new master naked.

Jonathan watched the girl struggle with her entrancement. She had fine, full breasts that swayed and shook when she moved. The bow of her belly was sweet and inviting. His cock was hardening from just looking at her. He could taste her fear. He sent her another command.

The pretty, distraught young woman stepped closer to her new lord. She fell to her knees before him and bowed her head to the ground, her long, brown hair falling around her face. She felt the words the man had ordered her to say and she was helpless to resist him. “Command me, Lord of Conquerors. I am yours,” she shouted out, her voice tremulous, her mind full of revulsion at her abject surrender.

The crowd gave a great cheer at the demonstration of the white man's power. But there was more. Lucy brought herself erect and spread her graceful thighs. She arched her back, presenting her beauteous breasts to her captor. He had filled her with irresistible lust. Her body burned with it and her sex yearned to be stroked to completion. Her nipples ached with their hardness. She ran her hands over her engorged, plump breasts and then lowered them over her taut belly. When they found her sensitized lower lips, she gently pried them apart and dipped the fingers of one hand inside. Her fevered crevasse was lush with her arousal. Her fingers felt like they were filled with electricity and every part of her she touched glowed with heat. Leaving one hand buried in her cleft, she spread her moisture to her stiffened bud of pleasure and began to stroke it, slowly at first, and then harder and harder as she felt her passions rise.