Dreams and Desires (23 page)

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Authors: Paul Blades

BOOK: Dreams and Desires
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"This will make you more comfortable,” her happy, blond attendant told her. The svelte, younger beauty unfastened the chain between her ankles and linked the bracelets there directly together. Then, bending Kelly's legs backwards, connected the fastening between her wrists to her ankles with the 18” long chain. She then pulled the mesmerized body of her friend to its side so she was facing the place where her dream lover would bed down beside her. She stretched her long, naked body next to her, marrying her thighs, belly and breasts to those of the other woman. She could feel the remnants of her master's lusts emanating through the auburn haired woman's skin and it brought a wave of pleasure to her. She stroked the other woman's head, smiling her love and affection for her.

"Oh, Kelly,” she whispered softly. “I'm so proud of you. You were perfect.” She reached behind Kelly's head and released the straps holding her gag in place. Withdrawing it gently, she placed her lips on the object of her affection's and explored her mouth with her tongue. Kelly received her friend's attentions with joy. Her body shuddered with pleasure, both at her friend's ministrations and at her kind, welcome words. She had pleased the man of her dreams. For her, right now, there was no greater ideal.

Adele parted her lips from her friend's and restored the gag to her pliant, receptive mouth. She ran her hands over Kelly's plump breasts, caressing her nipples and then let her hands draw slowly over her taut belly until they had captured her pleasant, smooth labial lips. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” she told her. “Tomorrow morning, before we go to work, I'll make you come again with my mouth."

Adele pulled the covers up over her friend and lowered the lights in the room before she left her. Kelly closed her eyes and let herself melt into the glow of her well pleasured body. Her lover would be here soon. He would lay himself down beside her and they would sleep for a long time together. Lazily, she tested the bonds that held her ankles and wrists joined. She had hated it when the leather bands had been applied on her limbs and around her neck. She now felt pleased her friend had adorned her with them. They seemed to glow on her body, sending her reassurances of her dream man's bond to her.

While the man finished his shower, Adele went to the back room and made up the simple, single bed with sheets and blankets she had found in Kelly's linen closet. There was a plump, soft pillow there and she laid it down. She had brought with her all the things she would need in the morning. She would help prepare Kelly for what would be a very taxing day.

The svelte blond had brought two plain, white bags in with her when she had gone shopping and she retrieved the second one now. From it, she pulled another set of leather confinements. These were for her. It was important her master sleep soundly, with no concern for her. And she wanted to be prepared for any use of her body he would desire. Her leather bracelets and collar would proclaim her devotion to him.

Sitting on the soft bed, Adele buckled the leather confinements around her ankles and wrists. After she had connected the collar around her neck, she rose to her feet and walked out to the small hallway that was the meeting place of the three other rooms of the house. She lowered herself to her knees outside the bathroom door.

Ramón was toweling himself dry. The pleasures of the shower, even though he was alone, were as satisfying as they had been the night before. What a world this was. He reveled in the sensual capabilities of his human body. These creatures’ capacity for absorbing the delightful pleasures of their habitat amazed him. He would need to rest now, let his human flesh recuperate. He placed the towel in the rack and opened the bathroom door.

There, as he expected she would be, was his servant and acolyte, waiting submissively for him. She looked up at him expectantly. Her braceleted hands were on her thighs, rubbing them softly in anticipation of his presence. He stroked her tufts of straw blond hair and sent her a message of gratitude for her service to him. She moaned as she accepted it, parting her plump, red lips, running her tongue over them.

His cock stirred at the sight of the beautiful, graceful woman on her knees before him. He took it in his hand and proffered it to the anxiously awaiting woman's lips. They encircled him gently, lovingly, and the woman's tongue washed its bulbous head. She placed her hands on his thick, muscular thighs and inched closer to him, letting the hardening and of flesh probe deeper into her mouth. He heard her moan with pleasure as she drew her lips down its length, until her face was buried in his loins. She then slowly withdrew, sucking gently, lovingly on his tool.

Adele was overjoyed to receive her master's meat. Her mouth and tongue craved his radiant energy that flowed from it. She stroked her fevered slit while luxuriating in her ministrations. She blessed the moment she had met the man and experienced his strength and goodness. When he came, spilling his precious seed into her, her pussy throbbed and pulsed with pleasure.

Ramón escorted the satisfied Adele back to her little room. She would fix it up over the next several days. Now, it was crowded with boxes and the effluvia of its owner's life. The blond woman turned her back to him to allow him to fasten her wrists together. She had left a small chain dangling from one wrist and it was simple to connect it to the other one. She lay down on the bed and rolled to her belly so her master could connect her ankles together and affix them to her wrists with the 18” long chain she had left out for him. He rolled her to her side so she was facing away from the wall and then took the last item from the white, plastic bag lying on the floor next to the bed. Adele held her mouth open willingly as he eased the long, thick leather prong of the gag into her mouth. He buckled it behind her head and then pulled the covers up over her body. He placed his hand on her golden head and passed a message of warmth and pleasure to her. She sighed softly, and when he gently massaged the appropriate part of her mind, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

The man looked down at his peacefully resting servant. His seed would strengthen her commitment to him as it merged with her cells during the night. She would have a lot to do tomorrow. He would need her assistance in assuming control of the research lab and turning it to his needs. She would need to help guide her friend and, now, lover, through the day.

Ramón made a circuit around the small dwelling and turned off the lights. He made sure the front door was locked and then walked quietly to the bedroom. The female was already asleep, breathing deeply and contentedly. He eased himself down beside her. Before pulling up the covers, he softly caressed her fine, pleasing breasts and belly, sending, gentle, pleasurable messages to her. She stirred slightly in her sleep, sighing deeply. Her soft, round, enticing eyes fluttered. Her dreams had begun.

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PART TWO: THE RISE OF A RENEGADE
CHAPTER EIGHT

If you travel west on US Route 10 from Los Cruses, New Mexico about 60 miles, you'll come across State Highway Route 146, a flat, straight, two lane highway that passes through the seemingly interminable, rough, semi arid country that surrounds it. Head south about 40 miles and take Route 9 west about another 40 and you'll come across the northernmost entry point for The Chiricahua Apache Reservation. There's a gate there with a small sentry hut run by the tribal police and you'll have to politely state your business or move on. If the usually alert guardians of the Reservation let you through, you'll have to drive another 40 or 50 miles, due south, before you come to the road that skirts the southeastern shore of Lake Palayas, a pristine, long, finger-like, aquifer fed lake redolent with trout, carp and other game fish.

About 10 miles south of the lake, there's a small road which leads east towards the southern portion of the long, rocky ridge known as Hachita Peak, which towers at its highest point about 6500 feet over the surrounding scrublands. At the end of that road, you'll approach a large gate, about 15 feet high topped with razor wire. It's electrified. There's a gatehouse there manned, not by the local constabulary, but by well built, rough looking but clean cut, Apache males dressed in tight, denim blue jeans and black t-shirts with high caliber automatic handguns strapped to their hips and dark sun glasses obscuring their eyes. They are employed as members of the large security force for the sprawling compound located another ten miles or so up the road. If you can confirm your business with the efficient, no nonsense guards, you'll be allowed to proceed, escorted, of course, to do your business with the compound's occupants. If not, you'll be politely turned back and given exactly one hour and twenty five minutes to leave the Reservation.

The expansive compound itself is nestled in the foothills of the mountain range. Before you get there, you will pass two more security checkpoints and a small airfield with a landing strip long enough to service even the largest of private jets. When you enter the compound, you will see a large, sprawling, hacienda and a number of smaller, but not inconsiderable out buildings including residences for senior staff, a barracks building for the security guards, a stable, a glass roofed building containing an indoor swimming pool and tennis courts, a garage to service the many motor vehicles used and useful in the conduct of the affairs of the residents of the compound and a long, two storied structure containing 24 motel like units and an elegant cafeteria for guests. There would be several other buildings, nondescript and surrounded by their own security fences whose purposes would not be readily apparent.

If you had arrived on the right day and at the right time, you would have seen a tall, broad shouldered man, about 37 or 38 years old with long, flowing blond hair and a clean shaven face standing on the large second story deck that faces west, proudly surveying the vast duchy which he controls. This would be Jonathan Blackthorne.

It was about 11:30 in the Shenandoah Valley when the enraptured scientist, her dream man and his servant found somnolence in their rural lodgment. In New Mexico, it was 9:30. On the second night of Dr. Kelly Jameson's captivity, Blackthorne was sitting in his large, brown, leather stuffed chair in his private study on the second floor of the hacienda. He had a small snifter of brandy sitting on the table next to him. The room was spacious and decorated in the style of the old Southwest, a large, woven, turquoise banded, cream colored Navajo rug partially obscuring the dark, polished oaken floor, heavy, dark wooden furniture, even the pale, sun bleached, wind blown skull of a longhorn steer pegged on the wall. The lighting was dim, emanating from a series of small high hats in the low ceiling. On one wall was a large bookcase containing Blackthorne's collection of rare books and original editions. On the other was mounted an old, long barreled, muzzle loading rifle, said to have been once owned by Kit Carson himself.

In front of Blackthorne were two women. They had the light brown skin of Latin American
Meztitas
, shoulder length, strait, black hair, dark, thick overarching eyebrows and pleasant, young faces. The one on the left, Carmelita Rivera, was kneeling on the floor, her blue jeans, bright red t-shirt, modest, plain white bra and panties and heavy
campeseno
work boots neatly arranged by her side. She had her hands behind her head, her fingers tightly intertwined and her pleasantly formed, heavy breasts were presented delightfully. Her back was erect and her knees were spread, and Blackthorne could see the thick, wiry, black bush that hid her love lips between her thighs. Her face had a mix of fear and wonderment on it, as if she couldn't quite figure out why she has stripped herself of her clothes and is kneeling in a submissive pose in this elegant, well appointed room before the blond
Norte Americano
.

Her sister, Guadalupe, younger, a little thinner and taller, was standing next to her. She was still clothed. She was shocked when Carmelita shed her body's coverings, but was more shocked that she could not seem to find the will to flee the presence of the handsome blond man. Her hands too were poised behind her head. She remembered the blond man vaguely from early the day before. She and her sister were part of a cargo of 25 or so immigrants who had paid a
coyote
to transport them to Tucson and had been hidden in a secret compartment in a large, twelve wheel, tractor trailer truck. The truck had stopped in a lonely part of the desert in the New Mexico panhandle. All of the hidden voyagers had been ordered out and forced to stand in the hot, early morning sun. Four dark haired, fierce looking Apaches carrying automatic weapons had waited there with them until a small helicopter had landed and the blond man emerged. He had walked up and down the line of illegals and then everybody, except the pretty Rivera sisters, had been ordered back in the truck which then continued on its journey. The blond man had flown away in his helicopter and the girls, inexplicably unconcerned at having been separated from their companions, had been loaded into the back of a large, black SUV. They had been held in a small, spartanly furnished but comfortable underground room. The men had not treated them badly, allowing them to eat and use the bathroom. An hour earlier, they had been given the opportunity to shower and had been brought here, to this room, a short while before. The man, who had been sitting in the large chair as he was now, had said nothing to them. For some reason Guadalupe did not understand, after several long moments of silence, during which the man had implacably maintained a steady gaze on their forms, she had placed her hands behind her head and her sister had started to strip.

Blackthorne had frozen the younger Rivera sister in place while he was rummaging around in the mind of her more voluptuous sister. Carmelita had not been a good girl back in her small, mountain Nicaraguan town. She had had two boyfriends who she had let fuck her. Well, he thought, she would get lots of fucking now. He turned his attention to Guadalupe. She had managed to reach the ripe old age of 18 with her innocence intact. She, in spite of her less developed breasts and thin frame, would be of more interest to him.

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