Dreams and Desires (34 page)

Jonathan's rampant loins were offset by his pale, white leggings and tunic, and the enthralled young woman's gaze was drawn to it. He stepped closer to the wildly impassioned girl so he could lay his hands on her. He took her full, firm, proffered breasts in his hands and he let his psychic force flow through them. The naked woman's eyes rolled back and she gave a great moan of lust, fear and despair all in one. He could feel her emotions run wild inside her. He caressed the plump, soft mounds, enjoying their feel and weight, letting his own passions grow until his need swelled within him. Reaching behind her head, he untied the harsh gag that bisected her widestretched lips. He took his hot, thick cock in his hand and presented it to her yearning mouth, tantalizingly just out of her reach.

Paula had never felt a need so intense as the need to encompass the white demon's flesh between her lips. She strained her neck and pursed her lips to capture it. Her bound hands twisted behind her, straining to get free. Her feet pulled hard on the bindings on her ankles, yearning to bring her to him.

When Jonathan sensed the crowd had taken full measure of the storm of lust he had generated in the pretty, young, white girl, he pushed his outstretched rod towards her mouth. He could feel the surge of passion in her mind as he slid it over her hungry lips and entered her.

Paula had never felt such pleasure before as the thick meat filled her mouth and dragged along her tongue. She had sucked her boyfriend's cock. It was never like this. She pursed her lips around the man's member and drank at it feverishly. She could feel lust radiating from its every pore. It was magical, it was suffused with power. She could only move her head slightly and she was frustrated in her desire to stroke it, to bring it ecstasy. When she felt it begin to slowly slide in and out, she gripped it tightly with her lips, madly intent on granting it every measure of pleasure she could give.

Blackthorne, his hands still on the delirious girl's head, made the adjustments to her being that would make her a slave to the amulet. He showed it to her in her mind, sending her a terrifying fear of it and a terrible lust for its creator and his minions. He washed away all other desires except to serve her masters with every ounce of her being. He preserved a part of her though. She would remember her transformation, she would remember that she had been damned and that she had experienced mind numbing lust and pleasure when it happened.

Paula felt the man's passion rising and rising. She reviled herself for her shameful need for his essence. Although she knew the man had forced himself upon her, had altered her mind, she cursed herself for her sinful lust.

When the man's cock began to throb and spasm in her mouth, Paula's body began to shake convulsively. Her pussy had been burning and it now exploded, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. She consumed the man's copious spunk greedily, feeding on his long, full flow of salty, viscous fluid. As it entered her body, she felt his semen meld with her, binding her to him and the evil symbol he had placed in her mind.

Blackthorne left the blond girl to wallow in despair and sorrow over the loss of her soul. He stepped before the next helplessly bound girl, who faced south. She was thin with long, brown hair. Her pretty brown eyes stared back at him frantically. Her weirdly painted face cringed when she felt the first powerful pulse of his psyche enter her mind. Before he plunged his manhood into her soon to be yearning mouth, he took a moment to reveal to her what she was about to become. He felt her mind rebel in frantic panic. She tried to plead with him to spare her, her words distorted by her grotesque gag. Her eyes begged him for mercy. Her torso yanked and tugged at the bindings behind her. And then he filled her with a desperate, gnawing need for him. A minute later, she closed her eyes dreamily as she drank at his throbbing tool.

He finished with the thin, boyish, short blond haired girl quickly. She was the prettiest of the kidnapped girls, her body long and elegant. While she sucked eagerly on his prick, her will bound irretrievably to his, he probed her innermost thoughts and fears. He felt her hidden and suppressed disappointment for her pert, pointy breasts. He converted it to a deep, intense shame and, at the same time, made them almost unbearably sensitive to stimulation so they would be the seat of her desire, so she would yearn to have them suckled and caressed despite her humiliation at exposing them. Her slender hips and long torso were boyish. He drew a ring of need around her small, rear entrance so that if anyone wanted to use her there, she would groan and writhe with pleasure.

The last was the voluptuous brown haired one. After he filled her with fear and lust, he knelt before her and placed his lips on her teats, sucking on them long and hard until her body shook and shuddered with a frantic need for completion. He placed his hand between her widespread, bound thighs and took possession of her vulva, pouring his power through it, making the young woman jerk and spasm with pleasure. He made her come three agonizing times before he removed her gag and fed her his essence.

When he stepped back from the dazed and enslaved, brown haired girl, he signaled the male dancers to release all four of the enthralled, pretty white girls from their stakes and to loosen their legs. Painfully stupefied at their ordeal, the women rose slowly to their feet. He sent them a command and the beat of the drums entered their bodies. Their demon minders circled them, dancing wildly and then led them around the raging fire. Their hands still bound painfully behind them, the desirable, young women's bodies jerked spasmodically as they mindlessly followed the painted demons. Blackthorne signaled that the three redheaded college students should be released and they joined in the
danse macabre
around the fire.

Paula knew she was lost. She could not stop her body from responding to the drums, was compelled to circle the fire, dancing frantically, displaying her naked and bound body for all to see, proving the blond god's mastery over her.

From the left of the platform, Jonathan saw a procession of white robed Apache women enter the circle. They were chanting and doing a shuffling dance as they entered, banging small leather covered drums and shaking rattles. The heavyset, Apache woman he had met in the welcome tent was leading them. Behind them came his three lovely and dutiful, naked acolytes. On their shoulders they carried a platform strewn with colorful desert flowers. In the middle, knelt his familiar. She wore a grotesque mask of some demented demon. She was mounted on a frame, her head and neck caught in a yoke that raised them for the crowd. Her arms were bound crossed and up behind her back. Her body had been painted all white but for her dangling breasts and her hairless pudenda which had been painted red. Yolanda, the black beauty, was in front, two rails over her shoulders holding her master's precious captive high. Darla and Christine proudly brought up the rear, all naked, their bodies decorated with painted designs. They set the platform down on the ground before the dais where the old man sat watching the proceedings approvingly.

The familiar was writhing in her bonds, overcome with lust. He could feel her energies pouring out of her. The Apache women, with the help of his acolytes, had been fueling her passions while the ceremony was going on. Jonathan felt a surge of lust in himself. He sent his three servants off to join in the dance around the fire and he stepped behind the moaning and panting, masked and painted woman. Her legs were spread and he could see between whitened thighs her reddened pussy, dilated and moist, ready for his penetration. He stepped forward and circled his hands under her torso, seizing her loose, round, bright red painted breasts in his hands. As he let his passion enter the needy female's body through them, he pierced her burning, welcoming shaft with his steely pole. The female came at once, her inner flesh throbbing around his meat, her moans of pleasure escaping from behind her hellish mask. He felt himself coming and he poured his essence into her.

Jonathan Blackthorne's mind reeled with joy. The huge fire roared in front of him. The steady, monotonous, rhythmic chanting and the heavy, insistent drums seemed to enter his lustful, powerful body. His hot cock pulsed with a driving, forceful pleasure and his mind fed on the untrammeled lust of his familiar and all of those around him. He could see the figures of the women he had claimed dancing wildly about the conflagration, their long and eerie shadows echoing their spastic and frantic movements. This is where he belonged, he thought, madly. This is what it means to have your own destiny, not to serve, no matter how happily, the suffocating, numbing belonging to the Whole. Here, he ruled. And in the end, if his tenure in this dimension was short, if he was destroyed, it would have been worth it. He would never go back!

The festival had gone on for three days. After he had finished his role in the ceremony, the three, young Apache girls had been presented to him formally as a gift of the Apache people. The maidens stripped them selves before the crowd and knelt in front of him, their crossed wrists proffered in a gesture of submission. They were to serve him for one year, until the next year's festival, when three more would be chosen from a selection of enthusiastic volunteers. He ceremonially bound their hands with leather thongs. He did not convert them until later. They serviced him joyously in his tent of their own volition all night and into the early morning hours. When he awoke in the morning, he had them kneel before him and passed his will into them, making them cringe and cry with fear when they realized their misapprehension about what being one of his bond women meant. In public, and after their year of indenture to him was over, they would seem happy and content to have been chosen to serve Jitendra, Lord of Conquerors, unable to relate to anyone the misery they had suffered at his hands.

The three redheads he had given to the shaman and the four kidnapped girls were set up in individual tents where they enthusiastically provided sexual services to the single men of the tribe, and a few married ones when their wives were not looking. Afterwards, the four kidnapped girls were given to the Snake God and his fellow performers. They graciously permitted Jonathan to have his turn with them. The lovely Paula was his favorite of the four, although he took great pleasure in giving the lanky blond girl, Jane, her first ass fucking. She moaned and cried with shame and lust as he stroked himself in her small, energized anal ring. Later, when the work started on his mountain fortress, Bob set up a little bar and trailer park near the construction entrance and staffed it with them. With the old man's blessing, Maria and the other redheads joined them. The lovely Fawn Who Leaps was kept by him as a sort of temple whore since it was not appropriate for an Apache girl to serve as a prostitute to non-Apaches.

Jonathan didn't spend the entire three days fucking. He met with the tribal leaders several times as they worked together for an appropriate site for his complex. Blackthorne had Conway and a couple other executives fly down to conference about design details and they took a helicopter tour of the proposed situs. When Jonathan returned to corporate headquarters, work was already under way on drawings and cost estimates.

The research facility was the first building completed, even before the sumptuous hacienda. It was to serve as his dream lab. The old shaman had agreed to assist him in trying to find a reliable way to pierce the dimensional barrier through the dreams of strong willed, intelligent, emotionally vibrant, young female subjects. As part of his company's affirmative action program, much lauded in the media, Blackthorne would personally interview prospective employees at job fairs at universities and colleges across the country. After his visits, several of the more promising ones would, after terminating all of their social relationships and winding up all of their other affairs, drive their own way to the gates of his compound, not sure really why and who their other pretty companions were. They would be shown their way to the research lab where they would spend the next several months, or longer if they seemed promising, as subjects in the dream experiments.

Marjoram Industries prospered. The company had gone public about two years before Philip Marjoram's death in an effort to raise needed capital and about 10% of it was in the hands of outsiders. Ruling a publicly traded company was a pain in the ass with all of the government scrutiny and SEC regulations and one of the first things Jonathan did was have the company buy it back. One by one, he acquired smaller companies whose product lines could easily assimilate his subtle improvements to earth technology or supply goods or services necessary in his research.

Now, five years later, Blackthorne was the master of a huge empire. The Fortress, as the vast complex deep inside the Chiricahua Reservation was known, served as his nerve center and his keep. His research into breaching the dimensional wall continued. In secret laboratories all over the United States, he had scientists and theoreticians working on it. Their silence was, of course, amply rewarded. This required a constant flow of enthralled, compliant women and untraceable funds to provide them with lifestyles they could only have imagined.

These needs were satisfied with the alliances he had formed with organized crime syndicates throughout the country. These humans were frail and consumers of many vices. Pimps, whorehouses, strip clubs, porn sites, all were able to provide desirable young females who could disappear without too much question. In turn, Blackthorne was able to insure their other sex workers remained enthusiastic and obsessively loyal to their employers. Blackthorne had stocked his entire elegant 24 bedroom guest complex at one stroke one night when he converted all of the stunningly beautiful erotic dancers who had been specially invited to participate in a ‘go-go-a-rama’ at a Miami strip club. A special bus driven and attended by loyal Apaches had been waiting in the parking lot. After a spectacular show and when their night was over, the girls all obediently turned their earnings over to the club manager and marched onto the bus where, dazed and confused, they were given a cross country journey that terminated in southwestern New Mexico.