by Paul Blades
What did Shakespeare say? “There are more things on heaven and earth than are known to your philosophies.” She was not super intelligent like the men in the movie, but she had a strong mind, and her desires were strong, albeit suppressed for a very long time. She had read many things in newspapers and saw stories on TV about allegedly inexplicable events. She had discounted them. But what would a sixteenth century scientist have thought of the ability to record brain waves, or to control madness with drugs? Television, radio and electricity would seem like magic to a primitive man. “Science” had rejected Galileo, Keppler and Spinoza. It had scoffed at the very idea of bacteria. Even Einstein had been unable to decipher the ‘unknowable', with his speculations about dark matter, a multidimensional universe and his fruitless search for a unified theory of physics. Experiments with subatomic particles had produced mysterious, inexplicable results.
Her theory, if you could call it that, would explain how the man was able to manipulate her desires, how he was able to assert such total control over her. He knew her inside and out. If he were the product of her own mind, that would explain it. She recalled Sherlock Holmes’ dictum: If you eliminate the impossible, the answer that's left, no matter how improbable, is the solution.
If it were true, if the man was a product of her desires made flesh, then he would not hurt her. She had no desire to suffer pain, had no death wish. But she did yearn for sexual fulfillment. She did have a suppressed desire to be relieved of guilt for her needs. It all fit. It was a solution her psyche, if not her training as a scientist, could accept.
* * * *
There was a clock on the dresser on Kelly's side of the bed and she had watched the time move slowly. It had been about 7 A.M. when he had left her to her own devices, hogtied and naked, and it was 8:35 when she heard the man stirring behind her. Her mind had kept wavering between a resolution to accept her situation as calmly as she could and absolute terror. Although she had given herself a mental framework to accept her situation, she was still afraid. She could be wrong. It did seem fantastic after all that he could be some sort of apparition from her mind. She would gaze at her reflection in the mirror, see the wide, silver tape he had placed across her lips and begin to cry. Then she would close her eyes, take a deep breath and try and bring herself back to a mindset where she could be calmed. It would last about ten minutes. Then she would open her eyes again, see the tape on her mouth, her naked, proffered body, her arms disappearing behind her back, her bent knees, and begin to cry all over again. She was fatigued from the emotional roller coaster she was on, but could not sleep.
Kelly's first notice the man was awakening was a tug on the cord that bound her connected hands behind her back to the man's wrist. Her heart went in her throat when she felt him stirring on the bed. She felt him untie himself from her. She jumped when she felt his strong but soft hand glide over her hip and along her thigh. She watched it run along her body in the mirror, a disembodied hand appearing from behind her. While it had been easy to propose to herself that she put away her fear, the reality of his touch made it clear to her how hard that would be. She had lain dormant for so long, she had almost forgotten she was tied. His touch reminded her she was defenseless against him and subject to his whims. She flexed her bound wrists and pulled at her ties with her legs, issuing a small whine from behind her gag. Her stomach fluttered with fear.
The awakened dream man was able to sense from his caress of the bound woman that she had begun to absorb the effects of his discharges within her. She would need much more to become fully acceptant of her new role as his familiar. He knew he could wash away her resistance with virtually a wave of his hand, but wanted to avoid direct disturbance of her mental processes as much as possible. There was plenty of time to accomplish his goal and no need to take drastic action. He read from her mind her efforts to come to terms with what had happened to her. The fact she had already begun to rationalize his existence and build a mental framework within which to accept it was a good sign.
He pulled the woman's body over so she was on her back. She gave a moan as he shifted her. She was laying on top of her bound hands and her legs were drawn up towards her torso. Her eyes widened in fear and apprehension and her breathing became sharp and strained. He pushed her knees apart, revealing her sex to him. He took a moment to appreciate her. His human mind was very satisfied with her body and he felt its appreciation in his loins. Her breasts lay gently on her chest, shimmering as she breathed deeply in her distress. Her face, although recording her unhappiness, was graceful, pleasing, well set off by her auburn hair. Her body tremored as he ran his hands down the inside of her thighs and she arched her back and whined from behind her taped lips. The feel of her skin and her helplessness before him fueled his lust. He moved his hand so it covered her mons and he began to stroke the length of the gap between her labia with his thumb. He watched as her visage went from fear and dismay to acute distress and then to passion. He could sense her efforts to resist him. But the energy he was conveying to her through his hand was too strong for her to overcome.
As soon as the man caressed the tender insides of her thighs, Kelly felt the telltale signals of her arousal begin to rise. She looked at him, disconsolately. He was going to fuck her again, and she realized, miserably, that she was going to succumb to another bout of lust. When he placed his hand on her sex, her body shuddered. She could feel her moistness grow as he began to tease her cleft. She strained at her bonds and moaned her unhappiness. He might be the product of her secret desires, but that did not overcome her conscious shame and belief what she was feeling as a result of his unwanted caresses was wrong.
Slowly, Kelly's resistance melted away. Her mind began to welcome the stroke of the man's finger. She shook and took a sharp inhalation of breath through her nose when the thumb began to stroke her hardened pleasure button. She tried to close her legs, to deny him access to her center of passion, but his strong arms kept them apart. Despite her struggle to deny it, she felt herself yearning for the man's cock to enter her.
The dimensional traveler sensed the woman's desire for coitus. It was what he had been waiting for. He eased himself forward and placed his hips between her outstretched thighs. His cock was stiff with his own heat and he ran its head along the length of the woman's gash, pushing aside the engorged love lips. She moaned as he did so and raised her hips invitingly. Her nipples were hard, her breasts taut. Her chest and face had a fevered look. Her body seemed to melt as he entered her. Her crevasse was tight and hot and the pleasure he felt spread throughout him. He began a slow, steady, rhythmic stroke within her. She moaned and squirmed, abandoning any effort to deny her passion. A part of him reveled in her helpless surrender to his power over her. None of his previous interactions with other races had been this intense. What creatures these humans are, he thought as he felt the strong pulses of pleasure emanating from his manhood. His cock's need permeated all of his flesh.
He could feel the woman's arousal grow higher and higher. Twice he stopped just before she came. She moaned and cried from behind her taped lips, begging him with her eyes to continue. He was poised above her, his arms locked and on either side of her torso. The only parts of their bodies that were touching were their loins, his hips and her thighs. When he resumed his cock's manipulations of her lusts, her body shook and she cried out from behind her sealed lips. His lusts had been rising too and he felt his sexual fluids cresting. Her pussy's first intense contraction triggered his climax. He groaned as he pumped his essence into her. She received it wantonly. His hips slapped against her thighs and she cried out at each stroke. His pulsing manhood sent him surge after surge of pleasure. Finally, his orgasm spent, he slowed and then stopped.
Kelly was finding it hard to catch her breath. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She couldn't remember ever having come like this. Her brain had been overwhelmed by the flood of pleasure. Slowly, as her pussy's convulsions ceased, she began to recover her consciousness of where she was and
what was happening to her. Dismally ashamed at her acute arousal, her wild exhibition of lust, she turned her head to the side and closed her tear filled eyes.
The man eased himself out of the woman's place of pleasure. Part of him wanted to continue, to quickly rally his forces and resume their coitus. But for now, he realized, she had physical needs to be taken care of and, to his surprise, so did he.
Rolling the unhappy woman to her belly, he unfastened the hogtie and released the bindings around her ankles. She uttered a sigh of relief as she was able to relax her legs after so long a time. He gave her a minute to enjoy her partial liberation while he admired the graceful slope of her naked back, the roundness and firm flesh of her rear, the remarkable color of her long strand of hair. When he sensed her mind was functioning, he rolled her to her back and then pulled her up from the bed. He could feel the tenseness in her and he saw the frightened look she gave him. He regretted the need to acclimate her slowly to him. One of the Whole's primary teachings was the importance of respect for other life forms. He did not want to cause her unnecessary suffering. He looked into her eyes and ran his hand over her head in a gesture of comfort. He softened his gaze and tried to mimic a smile. It would be a while before he had learned to adjust his facial features to readily exhibit human emotions. He released just a tiny bit of his energy into her, enough to take the edge off of her fear.
Kelly saw and felt the man's gesture. A feeling of calm entered her. It was not enough to wash away all of her fears, but enough so she did not break out into hysterical crying. How did this man do this to her? How long would he keep her his prisoner? She had no idea what the man's ultimate purpose was. If only she could talk to him, she thought. His crooked smile did nothing to assuage her concerns that he might be deranged.
He took her by the arm and led her from the bedroom. She stumbled alongside him obediently. Kelly was surprised to see he was taking her into the bathroom. She looked at him anxiously to see if he was permitting her to use the toilet or whether he had something else in mind. She was relieved when he motioned to it. She sat down on it happily, spread her thighs and let a forceful stream of water flow from her. She didn't care he was watching. His gaze was locked on the column of water that continued to empty out of her and its source. It was a stark reminder her body was under his control.
Raijamoon had absorbed much knowledge about basic human needs from the woman's mind. It was his initial, highest priority. It was essential to learn to function and to take care of the being whose existence was so vital to him. The transported alien was fascinated by this method of removing liquid wastes from the body. He watched intently as the stream of liquid seemed to fall from the woman.
When the flow stopped, the woman remained sitting on the toilet and looked up at him expectantly. It seemed there was something she wanted him to do although she was torn by her dependence on him to do it. He saw the roll of toilet paper on the wall and made the connection. He pulled a length of the paper from the role, folded it over several times and used it to wipe the woman's lower lips and the passage they surrounded clean. The woman stood up shakily and he tossed it into the toilet.
Now it was his turn. He had to give the issue some thought. He stood in front of the bowl for a few moments as an image in his mind informed him what to do. He took his long, softened manhood in his right hand and held it out over the yawning hole. With his other hand, he leaned over and lifted the seat, making his target bigger. He stood there waiting for his discharge to flow. Nothing happened. He waited and he waited. He knew his body needed to void and did not understand. He gave his groin muscle a little push, and then it came.
The man was surprised at the pleasurable feeling his body experienced as the flow of liquid ran down his cock. It was reminiscent of the ejaculatory response, but different. He closed his eyes and emitted a soft sigh. This is a wonderful body, he thought to himself. It was constantly surprising him with its capacity for sensual experiences. He almost wished the flow of water would never stop. But, after about ten seconds, the stream began to diminish and then halted. A lone drop of his discharge remained on the tip of his organ. He looked at it for a moment, unsure of what to do. He did not know where the idea came from, perhaps some instinctual function of his human brain. He shook his softened penis and the drop fell off, floating down to the bowl and making a ring in the water. He smiled in self satisfaction.
Kelly was gradually recovering her senses. It was strange watching the man piss. It was as if he had never done it before. She gazed at his cock with a mixture of hatred and desire. She was so confused. She wanted nothing more than her torment to end, but part of her reveled in the pleasures he had brought her. His strong, solid, manly flesh was everything she had desired in a lover. She desperately needed an explanation for what was happening to her. She wanted her hands back. She wanted her right to say no back. She wanted to speak. She wanted to hide her nakedness from this stranger who was so callously abusing her. At the same time, though, she found herself relishing her nearness to the man, admiring his flesh, wanting him.
When he had finished shaking himself off, the man stood looking at her for a moment as if trying to recall something. A flash of recognition came over his face and he stepped to the sink and washed his hands. Kelly was startled at his meticulous attention to hygiene. “If he is a maniac,” Kelly thought, “he is a strange one."
Her calmness, brought on by the pedestrian and intimate nature of their activities together, was dispelled when the man took her arm and led her back into the bedroom. But he did not bring her to the bed. He was merely retrieving one of the cords he had bound her with. Once he picked it up, he led her into the kitchen. He sat her down at one of the straight backed chairs and used the cord to tie her feet to its legs. A chill went through her as she was reminded of his dominance over her. And her nakedness in her kitchen was disconcerting. It was more easily accepted in her bedroom and bathroom, where nudity was commonplace. To be naked in her kitchen, tied to a chair, her arms still bound behind her was well outside the realm of normalcy. It emphasized starkly her desperate plight.
The visitor knew both of their bodies required sustenance. But what form? He could remove the woman's gag and ask her, but it was important there be no verbal communication between them if they were to develop the mental connections they needed for his purposes. He needed to train her to receive his projections readily and to channel her mind's thoughts to him.
He opened the refrigerator and looked inside it. He had gained much strength from his absorption of the psychic waves sent off by the woman's lust and had processed much of the download from the woman's mind. He picked up a long, rectangular carton. “These are eggs,” he thought. “They need to be cooked.” He put them back. He saw a round container with a lid. He removed it and opened it. Inside was cooked animal flesh. “Meat,” he said to himself. He put it back. He would not consume the flesh of any being. It was against the code of the Whole. And she would not either as long as she was under his control. He saw a large, translucent carton on the door and pulled it out. “Milk,” he realized. It was liquid and white. He saw and understood the word on the label. This was ok.
He continued his search and removed bread, some celery and some cheese. This would have to do for now. Later, when the woman was fully acclimated to him, he might have to permit her to cook and produce meals. But he couldn't risk her using a kitchen utensil to harm him and so for now, he would manage what they would eat.
It took the man a few seconds to develop the protocols for the consumption of these comestibles. Recalling his exploration of this morning, he produced a glass and a knife and a large plate. He sat down at the table next to the anxious woman and poured out some milk. He placed the wedge of cheese on the plate and cut it into small pieces. He took out two slices of bread and placed them on the plate. He did the same with the celery.
Kelly watched the man with great interest. She was dismayed when she saw he had only taken out one glass and one dish. Was
he going to feed himself and not her? She was famished and she could feel pangs of hunger in her belly. Then the man leaned towards her. He took one side of the tape that was over her mouth and began to pull it slowly. Once it was loose, he pulled it gently but steadily from her face. For the first time in many hours, Kelly felt her mouth liberated. He took up a piece of cheese and presented it to her mouth. Gratefully, she opened her lips and took it inside. She chewed it slowly, relishing the taste of the sharp cheddar. When she was done, he gave her another. She took it readily. He seemed to be watching her for some sign of negative reaction from eating it. When he was satisfied, he took a piece of cheese into his own mouth. He savored it, chewing it slowly, a look of pleasure on his face. After they consumed a few more pieces, he picked up the glass of milk. He held it to her lips and watched her drink it. He poured it too fast into her mouth and it spilled over her chin and onto her breasts. Realizing his mistake, he poured it more slowly and then drank some himself, with the same expression of discovery and pleasure as when he had eaten the cheese. Next came the bread and then the celery.
It was odd, being hand fed like she was a small child. Every time he put food to her lips, Kelly was reminded of the fact she was bound and powerless. As she ate what he gave her, her appreciation of the opportunity to fill her stomach's void was tinged with sadness at her plight. She looked at the kitchen clock. She had intended to go back to the lab this morning to check on some experiments. If she didn't go soon, it would be too late. And then she realized that if the man killed her, she would lose all of that, everything that she wanted to be and to do. There would be no more Dr. Kelly Jameson. All her thoughts and ideas, her memories and her experiences would be gone with her. She had a moment's panic. Her eyes grew wet. She looked at the dark, naked stranger. Was he from her dreams? He had the long, flowing black hair, the strong jaw, the fine features of the dream man. But if she had conjured him, wouldn't she have conjured him whole? Would he have to learn how to use the toilet, what foods to eat and how? It didn't make sense, but how could she talk about sense when she was considering something that was totally beyond any understanding she had of the basic realities of existence?
