Dark Journey [Ariel's Desire 2]

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Dark Journey [Ariel's Desire 2] Page 2

by Candace Smith


  His eyes wandered while his feet moved him forward with the group. It took a moment to realize they’d stopped in front a big building halfway down the street. The Clansmen dismounted and helped their women off the horses. Lucien greeted a smiling older man who still managed a formidable presence. The man walked off the porch, embraced Ethan, and the busty blonde from the fence joined them. Mike turned his attention back to the hall when the doorway was filled with three more Indians. He looked again at his cuffs and compared them to the leather breeches the Indians wore. A hollow feeling began to gnaw at his gut.

  The Indians on either end were of average size and tightly muscled like Black Horse, the Indian who met them on the grasslands. Mike had no trouble discerning the man in the middle was the leader. He stood at least four inches taller than Mike’s six feet and muscular arms crossed over a massive bronze chest. His thick straight black hair hung loose to his waist, and although he was laughing with Lucien, his strength and proud bearing were frightening. Mike’s nerves began to vibrate in warning and the instinct to flee was only squelched by the knowledge he’d have to rip the piercing in his sack to run. There was no doubt he’d be subdued quickly. The imposing Indian had glanced at his cuffs several times. Mike had a real bad feeling about this.

  Lucien finished the light banter with the Indian about how things had gone at the settlement in his absence. The discussion turned to Mike and the fear gnawing in his belly became an empty hole of terror. Lucien made some kind of back handed comment about Mike’s independence and continued to inform the Indian about his disruptive manner and attempts at escape.

  “Wind Seeker,” Black Horse chuckled, “Lucien has given us a real winner, this time. The coward’s bright idea to distract the Clansmen was to drown Ariel.”

  Given to them? Lucien gave me to Indians? Mike felt his balls shrivel inside the confines of the pouch as the piercing black eyes looked down at him in outrage. An irrational thought to explain to the man he knew Lucien would get her to safety, stuck in his paralyzed throat. He didn’t hear the clipped statement the Indian made to Lucien as he strode off the porch.

  Mike panicked and took a useless step backward. Wind Seeker reached down and grabbed the ring under his sack and viciously twisted. The unexpected pain was immense and Mike screamed. The big man grabbed the back of Mike‘s hair and tilted his head back, glaring at him. “I’m not as nice as the Clansmen,” the Indian seethed.

  Mike was terrified as the Indians laughed at him. Wind Seeker pulled a chain collar out of a leather bag tied to his side. Mike tried to draw back, but with the Indian’s strong grip through his hair, it was easily slipped over his head. “Dave? Allen? Do something. Please. Help me,” he screamed. Frightened tears spilled down his cheeks as his friends looked at the ground and Wind Seeker retrieved another collar, this one made out of thick leather with the same symbols that were on his cuffs, and wrapped it over the chain, slipping the lead ring from the choker through a hole in the front.

  Mike silently trembled as Wind Seeker walked behind him and tied long leather strips to a back loop in the collar. They brushed across the clenched cheeks of his ass for a moment, before another Indian knelt behind him and grabbed the ends. He felt strong arms push his thighs apart to tie the traces to his sack ring, causing him to groan as he straightened to ease the pain.

  Wind Seeker untied Mike’s cuffs from their resting place on his groin and forced his hands behind his back where the other Indian lashed them together and tied them to the traces running down his back.

  “Ariel, please. Don’t let him do this to me,” he begged.

  Lucien put his arm around her shoulders and held her against his chest as they entered the hall. The travelers and settlers passed by him ignoring his frightened pleas. When the Indian’s were alone on the porch, Wind Seeker grabbed the link of the choker and pulled Mike to his toes, forcing him to look into his intense black stare. “You are dog. You will not speak.”

  Mike had no idea what the man meant, but he stood still, numbed into terrified silence. The Indian clipped a leash onto the ring in the collar and Mike’s stiff legs moved as he was led inside the dining hall. There were two long tables facing each other and he glanced at Doug and Allen, already conversing with the men beside them. The Vampires sat at a shorter table at the end with the women in their laps and facing the settlers. Wind Seeker tugged the leash and Mike silently followed him. They stopped at the end by the Vampires, and Nicholas’ eyes flashed a red haze of excitement when he stared down at him, already anticipating the Indians’ torturous training for the little prick.

  The youngest of the Clan, Nicholas and Justin only had two centuries in Europe to let their Vampire nature stalk prey in the sadistic manner it craved. When they settled in the valley, Lucien allowed some games on the harvests, but Nicholas and Justin were drawn to the tribe to watch their torturous training of the captives if they truly wanted the Vampire to be aroused.

  Lucien, Nathan and Damon warned the youths it was too easy for the Vampire to surface, leading to a spiral of increasing desire for painful liaisons that would ultimately lead to the man remaining hidden as the Vampire controlled them. Justin and Nicholas joked nervously that they would be kicked out of the club if they were naughty, but they knew they couldn’t survive without the help of their ancient friends. Lucien understood they needed the stimulation of the sadistic pleasures they’d been denied since Europe and didn’t mind them observing the Indians, as long as they didn’t personally interfere.

  Wind Seeker put a hand on Mike’s shoulder, pushing him down to a kneeling position. He wanted to shriek again at the strain on his testicles as the bindings down his back tightened. Spreading his thighs so wide the head of his soft penis touched the rough wooden floor, he put his head back to lessen the pain. One of the Indians put a bowl of water on the floor by him.

  Wind Seeker leaned down, his curtain of black hair brushing the floor as he glared at Mike with a murderous black gaze. “You will eat all the food my warriors choose to sacrifice from their meal for you. If you dishonor their charity by leaving a single scrap…” he let the threat trail off.

  Black Horse threw a fatty piece of meat and it splattered on the floor in front of him. Mike wanted to scream to someone to stop this insanity, but dogs don’t speak. He stretched down to the floor and managed to get the venison. The pull on the ring through his sack was excruciating and he couldn’t help the tears flowing down his cheeks.

  The meat had been salted so heavily, he had to force himself not to spit it out. He managed to swallow and glanced at the water bowl. The torture of bending over wasn’t worth it. He was so absorbed in his pain, he didn’t pay any attention to what Lucien was telling the people in the hall.

  There was another slap as a chunk of carrot hit the floor two feet away. Mike struggled to turn around, tilting his head as far back as he could and pushing his wrists down to loosen the straps. The carrot was also covered in salt. Mike chanced a look up at the Indians. They were watching him with sadistic amusement, knowing he’d eventually have to drink.

  After the third chunk of salted meat, he hitched a sob and reluctantly shuffled to the water bowl. Silently crying, he began to lap. Wind Seeker reached down without looking and patted his head. The torturous, humiliating meal finally ended. Wind Seeker stood and stretched. He pulled on the leash and Mike panicked as he tried to carefully stand. He begged with his eyes to the fifty people who sat at the long tables including his friends, the Vampires and the Indians. No one offered to help him. Hardly anyone appeared to notice him at all. Wind Seeker tugged the leash and led him out of the hall.

  The Indians had camped in the trees just outside the fence that bordered the town. Furs were arranged around a fire pit and Mike was pulled down onto the dirt beside Wind Seeker. He silently knelt, keeping his back as straight as he could so the traces wouldn’t pull at the piercing. The Indians settled into a comfortable conversation, obviously looking forward to getting back to their tribe. Mike began
to tremble as he realized he wouldn’t be staying in the settlement with his friends. His plans for stealing a horse disappeared.

  One of the Indians rose and walked behind a tree, reminding him of the pressure he felt on his bladder. His fear wasn’t helping. Wind Seeker handed his leash to Black Horse and wandered off. When he returned, Mike looked anxiously toward the trees. His need was becoming urgent. When the third Indian rose, Mike could almost hear the water splashing against a tree trunk. An Indian sitting across from him narrowed his eyes and smiled. The sadistic bastards knew what was happening.

  He wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer. Afraid to speak, he reluctantly shuffled on his knees turning to face the trees, and let go. He was still pissing when he felt Wind Seeker yank on the leash. “Bad dog! You wait until you are walked.”

  Mike’s humiliated sob was vocal now as the remaining warm stream squirted down his thigh while the Indians laughed at his disgrace. He was again hauled to his feet and staring into Wind Seeker‘s glassy black eyes. Glancing down at the wetness soiling him, Wind Seeker hissed, “Disgusting animal.” Mike’s knees buckled and the Indian’s tight grip on the leash began to cut off his air until he finally steadied himself.

  One of the Indians walked behind him and unlashed the cuffs from the traces. His hands bounced on the small of his back until Black Horse grabbed his wrists. Another man ran the leash down his chest, slapped his sunburned cock to the side, and split his leather sacked testicles painfully when he ran the lead through the ring and back up. He handed the loose end to Black Horse. Standing in front of him, Black Horse lifted his bound wrists away from his back as pulled on the leash which in turn tugged at his sack ring, forcing Mike to bend over until he was facing the ground.

  He was aware Wind Seeker was behind him. He heard a whoosh and a thin branch smashed across his ass. “Eeeh.” Mike gritted his teeth and tried to move forward. He heard the whoosh again. “No, oh god, please stop,” he screamed. Thwack. “Ooow, please, no more.”

  “Dogs do not speak.”

  Thwack. Mike groaned and sobbed at the burning pain. Two more strikes stung across his buttocks. Black Horse let go of the leash and Mike staggered to stand up. He stared at the ground as tears ran down his face and onto his chest. Wind Seeker was right. He was not as nice as the Clansmen.

  The Indians ignored him for a while, leaving him standing and sobbing in defeat. Without looking up, Wind Seeker snapped his fingers and pointed to the ground beside him. Afraid to be whipped again, Mike obediently knelt. The Indian patted his head.

  The fire died down, and Rising Sun brought Mike’s arms to the front, reattached his cuffs and tied them to the testicle ring. He was leashed to a tree on the edge of their circle. Mike carefully lay on the pine needles, trying to avoid aggravating the welts on his butt and strain on the ring. He managed to curl up on his side.

  When he heard the soft snores, his fingers began working at the laces. He would die if he left with these people. His anger at Lucien festered further. He was sure the Vampire knew the Indians’ sadistic tortures, and that’s why he hadn’t punished him for his last escape. The bastard had planned to give me to the Indians from the beginning. He and Ariel are probably laughing about it between fucks. Mike pulled harshly at the knots in frustration and rage.

  By dawn, he’d managed to untie the traces down his back, but still couldn’t unknot the cuffs. The Indians would be awake soon. Terror reached through his exhaustion at what they would do when they saw the loosened leather. Mike finally managed to snag one of the traces and retie it. He hadn’t realized the traces weren’t separate. It was one long thin piece of leather that pulled through the loop in the back of the collar. He whimpered softly as the other end eluded him.

  When the Indians woke, they saw the loose strip hanging down his back. Wind Seeker impaled him with his black eyes, but said nothing. Rising Sun retied the loose end and pulled him toward the circle. Forcing him to kneel again, he pulled a straight razor out of his saddle pack. Mike fought against the leash Black Horse held, sobbing, “Please don’t scalp me. Oh, god, please. I won’t do it again. Please.”

  “Remind me to thank Lucien,” Black Horse said sarcastically. “This is one stupid ass dog.”

  Mike shrieked as wasps stung his back from the thin branch Wind Seeker flailed across his skin. “Dogs do not speak.”

  Black Horse held Mike’s chin while Rising Sun shaved off all his wavy black hair with the exception of a three inch circle on the crown.

  The men began their breakfast, once again throwing scraps to him and laughing at the captive’s assumption that Rising Sun was going to scalp him. Even Wind Seeker‘s eyes reflected merriment at the outlandish suggestion.

  Mike knew better than to refuse the discarded meat and felt the dirt grit in his mouth as he scooped up the offerings. He thought of his friends who were probably sitting in the large hall, laughing and making friends. He’d fucked up.

  Black Horse packed up their camp gear while Rising Sun and Night Wind returned with the horses. They lashed the furs to the animals’ rumps and strapped water filled skins to them. Someone from the settlement brought a large pack of supplies from the things Paul and Zippo had stolen from the flatlands and laid it on the ground by Mike’s feet.

  Lucien headed toward them and Mike did something he never would have imagined. He pleaded with his eyes for Lucien to save him. The Vampire’s dark blue eyes narrowed and he smiled. Mike had to control his scream. He wanted to rip his throat out.

  Wind Seeker was thanking Lucien for the supplies when the Vampire turned toward the settlement. Mike glanced over to see what caught his attention. Ariel was standing with a woman from the village. He could see the sorrow in her eyes even from the distance. The thought of her pitying him over circumstances caused by her lover, infuriated him further. The woman took Ariel’s arm and turned her away. They strolled down the fence line without looking back.

  Lucien and the Indians said their goodbyes and something about seeing each other soon, at a celebration. After Lucien left, the Indians strapped the heavy pack to Mike’s back with leather around his hips and forehead. They headed back to the tribe leading their new dog by a leash tied to Wind Seeker‘s saddle.

  CHAPTER 1

  IT’S A DOG’S LIFE

  They walked across the grasslands for hours. Mike trudged behind Wind Seeker’s horse with his lashed hands trying to shield the sun from the pink flesh of his cock. They bounced low on his stomach and he welcomed the relief of not having them attached to his ring. He was determined not to do anything to make them secure them to his sack again. A few times he staggered and the leash pulled the choker chain cutting off his air. He quickly rebalanced and forced his bare feet through the tall grass, weary legs moving him forward.

  Late in the afternoon, they stopped to eat. Mike was unleashed from the saddle and his heavy pack dropped to the ground when the straps were loosened. His head and neck ached from the strain of carrying the weight in such an awkward manner. Rising Sun freed his hands and Mike cautiously stretched, aware of the traces down his back that were still connected to his balls.

  Bits of jerky were tossed toward him and Mike scrambled in the high grass, searching for them. He reached for a piece with his hand and Wind Seeker yelled, “Dog.” Mike froze and looked up at him. The Indian shook his head, causing his shining black hair to sway with the movement. Night Wind stormed over and with an exasperated gasp, retied Mike’s hands to the ring.

  Frustrated and hungry, Mike picked up the dried meat with his mouth. When he retrieved a piece that had landed near Wind Seeker’s foot, the man reached down and patted him on the head. Mike thought if his hands were free, he would have punched him. A bowl of water was placed on the ground and he crawled over to lap it. After all the hiking, Mike’s throat was parched and raw. He’d finished almost all the water when he remembered he’d have to be ‘walked’ to piss. Shit. He was already feeling the pressure.

  The Indians turned away from the h
orses and Mike heard their streams splatter on the grass. His ass was sore from the whipping and he closed his eyes, concentrating on a way to avoid another beating. He tried to remember appropriate behavior for a ‘dog’. His need was so great, he stifled his pride and walked over to Wind Seeker. The twenty-four-year-old man, the guy everyone wanted to be like, stood in the middle of an endless prairie with his head bowed and whined.

  Wind Seeker patted his head sensing how much he hated it, and handed the leash to Rising Sun. Mike was walked into the grasses away from the horses. His bound hands held his penis while he relieved himself with Rising Sun standing to the side holding his leash. When they walked back to the horses, Mike’s pack was strapped to him and they continued their journey with Mike trailing behind Wind Seeker’s horse on the leash.

  Mike’s thoughts started to ramble as they walked across the sea of knee high golden grass. Back home, classes would be starting soon. That’s the first time Mike thought any of the group would be missed. He’d forgotten about the park rangers. They had discovered the abandoned camp site, Mike’s SUV and Allen’s red sports car, days ago.

  There was a massive search for the ten missing college students, pressured primarily by his father and Paula’s parents. In another week, the rich couples would stop waiting for the calls for ransom and panicking about which hidden finances they could tap into. They shared the expenses incurred when they had to resort to private investigators because the local agencies gave up the search. In another year, his father would work through the minor distracting depression of admitting his son was not returning. His mother would resume her charity work after a two week spa treatment she went on with Paula‘s mother to heal the required nervous breakdowns they suffered.

 

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