Dreams and Desires

by Paul Blades

  When the lust giving prick began to throb and pulse in her mouth, Jackie gave out a deep, soulful moan. She felt the man's essence pouring into her, sealing the man's control over her. Her pussy began to convulse and throb with her own, unwanted pleasure as her lips gripped the offensive pole and her tongue slithered around it. Her hands grasped its base as if to life itself.

  Jonathan waited until his last pleasurable spasm subsided before releasing the forlorn woman from his mind's irresistible grip. He grabbed her chin with his hand and turned her face upwards, making her gaze into his eyes. Her eyes were flooded with tears, red rimmed and puffy. He could feel the despair flowing from her and drank of it joyfully. The controls of the pursuer, the man she called Ramón, had been washed away and replaced with his own. He had detected the gentle, affectionate, delicate commands his pursuer had given her. To him it was a sign of the other being's weakness, his inability to break free of the dictates of the Whole to take full command of the inferior creature.

  Blackthorne despised the man's loyalty to the Whole, his spineless obeisance to its rule. He particularly enjoyed possessing a creature whose mind the other dimensional traveler had touched, blasting away the loyalty and affection he had placed there. There would be others the pursuer had converted to his service. He saw in the mind of the newly enthralled woman kneeling before him the fleshy, voluptuous, young, blond girl he had mated with in the motel just yesterday, the pretty, brown haired girl who had pleased him with her mouth this morning. After he had defeated the pursuer, he would send his men for them. He would collect all of the pursuer's servants and place them in a special hell where, from time to time, he could savor his victory over the Whole by tormenting and abusing them. He would leave them the memories of their beloved master and make them rue the day they had met him, the Lord of Conquerors. Blackthorne especially enjoyed the prospect of capturing the other being's familiar. He could just about taste the sweet flavor of her terror and unhappiness as he bent her to his will. The brown haired girl he had just enthralled had not met her, had no vision of her in her mind. But, if all went well, he would meet her soon, mere hours from now.

  There was time before there would be more news. He had put aside all other business of the day. He decided he would spend it visiting more torment and abuse upon the body and mind of the abject prisoner on her knees before him. He sent her an order to stand and place her hands behind her back, crossed together as if held there by an invisible bond. She followed, trotting dolefully behind him, as he strode purposefully and confidently from the reception room.

  * * * *

  Ramón was still sitting at the kitchen table when he heard the knock on the door. He had been engrossed in his thoughts and had not discerned the car that had brought his visitor. He looked into the bedroom as he passed it. The female was lying there quietly, still lost in the dreams his potion had induced. He crossed the living room and opened the door.

  He had felt the emanations from the young girl as soon as she had knocked on the door. It was the lovely Lucy Douglas. All of the other girls had been told to stay away tonight so he could be alone with his familiar, but apparently, the word had not gotten to the file clerk from Hardings’ factory or she had ignored it. Her youthful, expectant face peered up at him as she stood on the porch begging admission.

  "C-can I come in?” the bashful, brown haired girl asked tentatively. She had not been bashful when he had met her, but his captivation of her had brought out a whole new side of her personality. It was dark outside and her body was framed by the light that was released when Ramón opened the door. She was wearing a rose colored, plump, down jacket zipped to her chin. Her bare legs descended from her tiny, green and white, pleated miniskirt and she was wearing a pair of very dark green high heels. It was about 25 degrees outside, and he didn't want to make her stand in the cold. To his dismay, the car that had brought her had pulled from the driveway and was already making its way down the road.

  "Okay, Lucy,” Ramón replied. “But you can't stay. You'll have to get someone to pick you up."

  Lucy stepped through the door and Ramón closed it behind her. She drew off her heavy jacket to reveal a light green, short sleeved, cotton top that had a round, deep neckline covered by a lacy, white border. The tops of her breasts were displayed enticingly and Ramón felt a stirring in his loins knowing they were available for his loving attentions. When she started to pull her blouse up over her stomach prefatory to removing it, Ramón stopped her. “Not tonight, Lucy,” he told her. “Come into the kitchen and have a cup of tea. Then we'll call somebody to come and get you."

  "Okay,” Lucy relied mournfully.

  He had her sit down at the table and he placed a bag of Earl Grey tea in a cup with some water and put it in the microwave. He stood silently next to it for the three minutes he had given it to heat. Lucy sat quietly at the table, looking up at him with her large, limped, brown eyes, her thighs pressed together demurely, her arms crossed in front of her, under her breasts. The only sound in the room was the humming of the microwave as it performed its electronic chore. When the bell rang, Ramón brought the steaming cup to the polished, wooden kitchen table. There was a plastic squeeze bottle of honey there in the shape of a bear, and he offered it to the nervous looking girl. She nodded and he gave her a long, thick squirt. Once he had brought her a spoon, he sat at the table catty-corned from her.

  "So what's this all about, Lucy?” he asked her. She had taken a small sip from the misty cup and placed it back down in front of her.

  "I, I don't know,” the girl replied.

  Ramón could read the girl's mind like a book and so he knew the answers to his questions, but he often found it useful to utilize actual speech to his servants. Frankly, it made him feel more human and he liked that.

  "Didn't Felicity tell you I wanted to be alone with Dr. Jameson tonight?” Ramón asked her, knowing full well the answer.

  "Yes,” Lucy replied. Her face was pretty and her lips were luscious. Her braless breasts stirred with each movement. He saw in her mind that she had come without underwear in the hopes of getting lucky.

  "The why did you come?” Ramón returned.

  "I, I...” she started. The girl was having a hard time getting it out.

  "Is there something you want to tell me, Lucy?” Ramón asked.

  A tear started forming in the girl's pretty right eye. The edges of the girl's eyes were delicately mascaraed and she had a light green coloring applied to her eyelids. Her lips had been painted a pale reddish orange. Ramón could feel her desire for him growing. His body was reciprocating.

  "It's just that I had this bad feeling. I've had it all day. I was worried about you, about Dr. Jameson. I just had to come."

  Lucy had always believed she had ESP. Years ago, she had had a dream about a terrible car accident and the next day two of her friends had been killed by a drunk driver out on Route 256. The night before her parents announced their decision to divorce, she had dreamed of them both sailing away on separate ships. She seemed just to know certain things before they happened. It didn't work all the time and sometimes, like now, she just had a severe sense of dread.

  "Something's going to happen, I just know it!” the girl blurted out. “I'm scared!"

  Ramón pushed his chair back and opened his arms. Lucy had started to all out cry and she rose and paced herself on the dream man's lap. “I don't want anything to happen to you or Dr. Jameson!” she said between sobs. “Please tell me you won't go away! Please!"

  The dream man circled Lucy's body with his arms and pulled her tight to him. He let her sob herself out for a while before replying.

  "You know I can't stay forever, Lucy, don't you?” he asked her in a tender, soft voice. “Someday I'll have to go away."

  Lucy's crying became louder. “But I don't want you to go away! I couldn't stand it! If you go, I want to go with you!"

  Ramón hugged the girl tighter. He stroked her plush hair and kissed her on the shoulder, just below
her neck. Her skin was salty and sweet.

  "You're going to be fine, Lucy,” Ramón told the distraught girl. “I can't take you with me. I'm sorry. But you'll be happy, I promise you. There are lots of wonderful things that will happen to you in your life. This is just the beginning."

  Lucy tightened her grip around Ramón's neck, her breasts pressed against his chest. “I love you, Ramón!” she told him. “We all do. You can't just leave us!"

  The girl pulled her head back and sought connection between her lips and Ramón's. Finding them, she opened her mouth and slid her tongue into his, mingling their heat. She moaned as she kissed him hard and deep, bringing a sigh of arousal from the man. Ramón could feel lust and affection flowing from her and he returned it twofold. He placed his hand on her curvaceous hip. It was too late to send the girl back home tonight. He knew it.

  Just then, the living room door flew open.

  Bob Cloud and his specially trained team of Apaches had been waiting patiently outside for about twenty minutes. They had been just about to crawl over the stubbled field surrounding the house and storm it when the car had pulled up and disgorged the pretty, young woman. They had waited awhile in the hopes she would leave. Bob didn't want any complications. An extra female to snatch was a definite complication. She would be missed and questions would be asked. Not that it wasn't something that couldn't be handled. It was just, messy, and this operation was too important.

  After about ten minutes, Bob gave up waiting. They needed to get the pursuer and his woman and get them on a plane back to New Mexico. That had been the boss's order and that was what would be done. Bob thought it silly not to put a .45 in the man's brainpan while they had the chance. One shot and all their worries would go away. Jonathan had let him and a few key advisors know about the importance of the pursuer and how he would be intent on bringing about their leader's destruction. One shot and that would be all over. It was stupid to let him live a moment longer than necessary. But Blackthorne was the boss and if he wanted him alive for some reason, that's what he would get.

  There was one out though. Blackthorne had instructed him that if things got too hairy, if it looked like the pursuer was going to put up a resistance or get away, he had authority to terminate him. Bob was itching for the excuse to exercise that option. Just let the man give him a reason and all their problems would be solved.

  The skilled Native Americans crawled silently up to the decrepit looking structure. The man could be seen through the kitchen window with the pretty girl on his lap. One of the Apaches gave the man to his side an elbow and a knowing grin. Blackthorn's propensity for fucking was well known. Apparently, this guy was not much different.

  To Bob's surprise, the door was unlocked. He swung it open and he and five of his dark skinned, black clad men came streaming in. He went directly to the kitchen where their principal quarry was. The man looked up at him, an expression of mild disdain and surprise on his face. The girl who had been kissing him jumped up and screamed. One of Bob's men shot a Taser wire out at her and it stuck in her right breast. Her body jerked and seemed to leap into the air and then she crashed to the floor.

  The quarry had risen to his feet and he made a motion to move to protect the now squirming and convulsing girl on the floor, but then, looking Bob square in the eyes, stopped himself. Slowly, deliberately, a look of scorn on his face, he lifted his hands into the air. While Bob held his .45 steady and aimed at his heart, one of his men circled the kitchen table and locked the man's hands behind his back with steel handcuffs while another placed a long strip of tape across his lips and pulled a black bag over his head. When done, they pushed the unresisting man back into his chair.

  Kelly had been snapped out of her dream filled reverie by Lucy's scream. Fear ran through her and her heart began to pump rapidly. She was defenseless, naked, bound and blindfolded on her bed. Strong, ruthless hands grabbed her arms and she felt the chain linking her fastened wrists and ankles being loosened. She screamed in terror through her gag as she was pulled up from the bed. As she was dragged from the bedroom and into the living room, her mind called out for her dream man to save her.

  Something was going dreadfully wrong! She knew her captor had a vital, secret task to perform, something that justified his use of her and of all the other females he had captured. She had sensed it was fraught with danger, but always believed the dream man would protect them. Now that danger had become all too real! What was happening? Her mind reeled at the thought of being separated from the man who had become her whole life, to whom she was connected to like the Moon revolved around the Earth. Her stomach roiled at the thought of losing him.

  Bob watched as his men bound the arms of the supine and moaning, pretty brown haired girl in the kitchen behind her and connected her ankles with a short chain. While they completed her bindings by taping her mouth and hooding her, he went into the living room to inspect the grand prize, the woman who Jonathan Blackthorne desired above all others. The raid was a complete success. The pursuer had conveniently stripped and bound her for them and he admired her naked form. She was moaning, her body limp, and if two of his men had not been holding her arms tightly, she would have fallen to the floor. He ordered them to turn her around so he could see the rest of her. She had fine, plump breasts and a taut belly. Blackthorne would be pleased.

  When the pursuer had gone to the laboratory after his flight from Omaha, Blackthorne's men had found out all they could about the facility. When they learned that a young, female medical researcher owned it, Blackthorne had Googled her. Her description fit the profile of a familiar to a ‘T’ and he had provided his men with a picture obtained over the Internet. This woman standing moaning and distraught before Bob now was the spitting image. Her hair was the real giveaway, dark, burnt orange tresses, just like in the picture. Bob ordered his men to remove the gag and eye mask just to make sure. The terrified, blue eyes that stared back at him frighteningly were a perfect match. This was her all right. Mission accomplished.

  Kelly quailed as she looked at the intense, pleased eyes of the formidable, dark skinned man. Something terrible was going to happen to her, she just knew it. She saw it in the demonic look in the man's face as he appreciated her naked form. What frightened her most was the fact that the man seemed to recognize her. Someone had pointed her out to him for abduction and he was pleased he had found the right woman.

  The men dragged the struggling and squealing Lucy and the docile Ramón into the living room. Kelly recognized the young girl and her heart went out to her. But she was astonished at the unresisting form of her dream lover. Why wasn't he fighting? Why didn't he do something? If he was powerless to oppose these men, where did that leave her? Her body shook with fearful panic as her gag and blinding eye mask were reinstalled.

  Bob instructed his men to turn off all of the lights in the house. He then went to the door and blinked his flashlight twice. A few moments later, a dark van trundled up the driveway, its lights dimmed. At Bob's command, the prisoners were marched out the door of the house, down the steps of the porch and thrown into the back. The Apache men joined them. The door slammed shut and the van backed away from the house.

  * * * *

  Jonathan was in his bedroom when Bob's call came in. It was a clean sweep! In four hours, his nemesis would be here, in his power. It had been remarkably simple, almost too much to hope for. Within hours, he would be safe. If he defeated the pursuer, he doubted the Whole would send another jumper. There would be no reason to believe another aspect of the Whole could succeed where this one, the best and most experienced, had failed. Even if they did, by the time the scientists of the Whole located another familiar and sent another aspect across the dimensional divide, it would be years hence. No one would be able to get near him. A virtual eternity of paradise spread out before him. Even if he could not transfer to a new body, this one could last hundreds of years.

  The thin, brown haired girl he had enthralled earlier today lay sprawled across the b
ed. He had brought her several shattering orgasms amidst gut wrenching fear and psychic pain. He was exhilarated from the absorption of her terrible lust and the prospect of his confrontation with Raijamoon. He decided he would turn the meeting between him and the other worlder into a demonstration of his power for his Apache allies. He got up from the bed and called the number he used to communicate with the old, wizened shaman who had facilitated the creation of the Fortress and so much of what had followed the ceremony five years ago in which he had been anointed as Lord of Conquerors. He left a message with one of the shaman's aides. They would all meet in the reception room on the first floor of the hacienda. He would have his familiar brought there as well as his acolytes and all the Apache leadership. Afterwards, there would be a huge celebration. There was a shipment of newly converted women waiting for assignment down at the security center next to the Apache barracks. He would adjust their minds and distribute them among his loyal subjects.

  Although the former private investigator and servant of his enemy was limp from exhaustion from her ordeal, his lusts were not yet sated. He ordered the trembling young woman to her knees, her forehead touching the mattress as he got back onto the plush, large bed. Her wrinkled brown star presented itself to him. She moaned with lust and unhappiness as he spread his large, powerful hands over her back, filling her with passion and pain. His cock was as hard as steel and he presented it to the small opening which he had already plowed twice in the last two hours.

  The Chicago PI had been at his mercy the entire time he was waiting for word from his team as to the capture of the pursuer. He had left her here briefly, giving her a rest from her torments, while he had visited his familiar and drained her of the life maintaining essence she had gathered for him. He would bring the girl down there later, a present for his most devoted and longstanding servants. She had a strong, independent personality and her abhorrence at being converted to a willless slave gave her emotional emissions a particularly piquant taste. He had not taken her memories from her, nor her power to rebel mentally at her treatment. Her mind screamed with shame and despair each time he made her come.