by Paul Blades
Something had happened to her in the night, she felt. She had had intense, disturbing dreams, mostly involving her strange visitor. In one, she had been lying on her back in a huge bed with her arms affixed to the headboard as they had been a number of times the day before. Her legs were spread, her vulva open and yearning. A crowd of people surrounded the bed in which she picked out her mother, Adele, the girls from the lab, an old boyfriend or two and numerous strangers whose faces she could not make out. The man stood at the foot of the bed, naked, with his manhood rampant. He was speaking some foreign tongue. Not Spanish, as she might have anticipated, but a language whose guttural sounds and variable pitches and tones seemed other worldly. And although she could not decipher the words, if they were words, she knew he was addressing her, ordering her to prepare her body for him. Her pussy began to burn and its juices started to flow as if on command. Her nipples became taut and her skin began to tingle with delight. She raised her hips in invitation to the tall, brooding, dark haired man. As he began to approach her, climbing on the bed from its foot, crawling across the sheets, she became aware of the crowd of people staring at her, judging her. But as unhappy as she was at their disapproval and contempt for her need, she could only react by spreading her thighs wider, hungry for the man to fill her.
Kelly awoke from this dream with a start, panicked. Darkness covered the room like a sea of black ink. She frantically tugged and strained at her bonds. Her eyes tried to pierce the blackness. She was desperately afraid the man had abandoned her. Then she heard the telltale sound of his deep, regular breathing. She almost broke into tears at her relief. She edged her face closer to his body so she could feel the heat rising from it. The man stirred, as if he had sensed her discomfiture. His hand reached out and caressed her hip and thigh. She felt a wave of reassurance pass through her and she went back to sleep.
This had been the most disturbing of her dreams. The others, from what she could recall, involved her standing in the mist her lover had arrived in. She was looking across the field which the man had floated across and the mist kept rolling in steadily towards her body. When it reached her, her body seemed to absorb it. Somehow, she felt she was receiving energy from another world, acting as a conduit for it to enter hers, a depository, perhaps. It was strange, as if it was filled with some highly energized substance intended for the man that she would transfer to him when he awakened.
Kelly watched as the man's head turned in his sleep. His face became visible to her and she took the opportunity to study his peaceful features. He had a long, strong nose and wide apart, large eyes. His eyebrows were black and full and tapered off to within an inch of each other above his nose. His lips were full and manly. His chin was strong. She noticed he had grown a forest of tiny black whiskers on his face. She made a note she would have to shave him. Since there hadn't been a man around her house for a long, long time, he would have to use the razor she used on her legs.
The man's eyes fluttered and his tongue darted out across his lips. “What does a dream man dream about?” Kelly thought. Was he dreaming of her? Of his other world? Did he have any consciousness of a time before appearing in her bed, his hot prick immersed in her fevered slit? The scientist in her yearned for information, answers. Her legs unconsciously tried to stretch out to their full length and she felt the tug of the rope that connected her ankles to her wrists tighten and pull on her hands. It was a stark reminder of the fact he had decided to keep her bound and helpless, that he controlled her, owned her in some way. It sent a shiver of lust through her to think about it. She squeezed her thighs together and bit her lower lip as she felt her passion for him commence to rise. Her body yearned for contact with him, her hands yearned to touch him, her voids craved to be filled. But she dared not wake him. Her life now, she realized, would be ruled by what he wanted, what he needed.
But how would that work out? She had a career, a laboratory she was responsible for. There were people in her life, people she was obliged to like Adele and the young girls who worked for her. And then there was her project itself. She didn't want to abandon it for a life of blissful slavery to this man. At the same time, however, she never wanted to lose the feeling of belonging and of being needed the man gave her. When she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could feel the energy passing between their bodies as if they were joined somehow. When she concentrated on it, her mind was flooded with a sense of well being and happiness she could not explain.
If only the man would awaken and fill her once more. She had so much she wanted to give him that she felt like her body was set to explode. She knew that when his essence flowed within her it would wash away all of her concerns for anything but him. His radiant cock sent electrical charges through her which made her feel in total communion with his will. The orgasms he brought her left her in a state of utter contentment and calm.
Raijamoon's eyes slowly opened to see the adoring face of his familiar staring at him. Her pretty blue eyes were wide apart with wonder. Her graceful, full, round breasts seemed to be thrust out to him in invitation for his touch. Her lips were open and trembling as if in need.
He sensed she was in need. During the night, the sea of fluids he had deposited within her had assimilated fully into her system. Her lust for him was strong. He recognized the essence of the Whole that had seeped into her during her dreams, her body serving as a vessel for the lifeblood of his existence in this realm. He would need to feed on her, to draw it into himself, to make himself stronger. His strength would intensify his powers and they, in turn, would allow him to absorb and receive sustenance from her emotions and passions and that of others like her. For there would be others, minds he would have to control, bodies which would become his servants. The dream man the woman had conjured had no inclinations which would allow him to commune with males as he did with females and he would not be able to establish the sexual bond needed for such use. He would be able to influence and, to some extent, control male minds, but it was nothing compared to the connection he could establish with female thoughts and emotions.
Somehow this day he would need to make preparations for his entry into the world. His first priority, however, was to relieve his familiar of the burden she was carrying. The energies that had passed through her during the night would have supercharged her body with lust. Like a vessel about to burst, he needed to drain her passions, allow her to release the forces that had built up in her.
Raijamoon smiled at the distressed woman, rubbing his hand on her cheek to assuage her troubled mien. He threw off the covers and, leaning over her, unfastened her ankles from her wrists. He unbound the wrists as well, only to affix them to the headboard above her.
His cock was hard as the woman's sexual energy conveyed itself to him through their strengthening bond. He placed himself between her widespread, inviting lower limbs and stroked her tender flesh, her belly and her breasts, her hips and her inner thighs. He needed to convert her sexual longing to sexual excitement. When he saw her lips parted and pursed, her breasts hardened with blood, her hips gyrating with need, he placed his cock at the entrance to her womb and slowly entered it.
Kelly sighed deeply as the man's thick, hot rod pressed into her. It was like all she had dreamed of in life had come true. She felt the man place his weight upon her. Electricity passed between their skins. His chest crushed her breasts and his legs circled around the outside of her knees locking themselves around her shins. The man used his strong legs to pull hers wider and wider until his pelvis bone was shoved up against hers. His hands slowly caressed her arms until they joined together with hers above her head. His mouth covered her lips and his tongue slipped between them, establishing his hot, fevered presence in her mouth. She felt like every inch of the front of her body was in contact with his electrifying skin. Suddenly, she felt herself coming. Her pussy wrenched with repeated hard, almost unbearable spasms. Her imprisoned hands gripped his fiercely as if to a lifeline. As she came, she felt the powerful, inexplicable force
which had amassed within her flowing from her body to his. It was like she was emptying herself. Her body shook and her heart pounded in her chest.
The dream man was in ecstasy as the energies of the Whole passed into him. He felt the female's pussy clench his enflamed cock tightly at each of its powerful convulsions. Her tongue sought union with his and she cried and moaned beneath him. It would be like this every morning now. They could never be apart for very long, a few days at most. If he could manage it, they would never be apart for more than 24 hours. His existence depended on their closeness and physical intimacies. Separation from him would cause her intense, excruciating anxiety. It would be difficult, though, to bring her on his quest. He needed to be able to move about surreptitiously, and she would be like a walking signpost to his enemy.
She would need to be well cared for when he was away. It was one of the reasons he needed servants.
The female took a while to recover from the draining of the Whole's essence from her. She lay listlessly on the bed for about an hour, her hands still bound to the bed frame. Raijamoon took the time to begin to explore her living room, testing the communication devices. The television fascinated him. It had a great volume of information, none of it valuable, but it presented its content with all the earnestness of a camp meeting preacher. The computer was another story. He learned to connect to the Internet and was able to access a number of news records that were informative. There was a vast supply of scientific information, some of it spurious, but here and there he found a kernel that would be important as he solidified his base and prepared to complete his mission.
He made love to the female again after she had recovered from her stupor. She received him enthusiastically, moaning with rapture as he stroked his cock this time into the small hole between her rear cheeks.
She was kneeling dreamily in the kitchen when it happened, naked, her hands bound behind her, eating the small spoonfuls of peanut butter he was feeding her and drinking milk. There was not much of it left.
The telephone rang.
Kelly jumped as the jarring sound echoed throughout the small house. It took her a moment to realize what it was. When she had recovered enough to realize it was the phone, a deep feeling of uncertainty ran through her. It was the outside world on the other end of the line. The world she had almost forgotten about. Her conflict about her future came back to life. Today was Sunday. Tomorrow was Monday. What would happen then? And how would she deal with whoever was calling her? Would the man allow her to speak? Was the ringing of the phone the death knell for her bond with her dream lover? Would he leave now that the inevitable intrusion of the reality outside of her four walls had come closer? If he was a madman, and had somehow drawn her into his psychotic world, was her doom now sealed?
The telephone rang four times and then the answering machine kicked in. The man stared at her while her voice cheerfully spoke, “Hi, this is Kelly. I can't come to the phone right now so please leave a message after the beep and I'll get right back to you.” There was a few seconds pause and then the machine went, “Beep!"
A bright, young female voice came on the line. “Hiya, Kelly, this is Adele. I guess you're in the shower or something. I'll be there about twelve for lunch. Don't worry about making anything. I'm picking up a quiche from the New Age Deli and some salad. And I'm gonna bring a big bottle of wine, so don't plan on doing anything else for the rest of the day. See ya soon."
The man and the woman both looked up at the kitchen clock simultaneously. It was a little after 10:30. Adele would be there in an hour and a half, sooner, if she was early.
The man looked back at Kelly the same time she looked back at him. He had a stern, almost angry look on his face. Kelly had forgotten all about Adele and the tentative date they had made on Friday to get together today. She had planned to make her excuses and had then filed it away somewhere in her mind. As she suffered the disapproving glare of the dream man, she realized she had somehow sinned in his eyes. Was he angry because she hadn't told him about it or because Adele was coming? Somehow, she sensed it was the former. But how could she tell him if she wasn't allowed to talk? He seemed to have the ability to probe her mind, to know what she knew, what she wanted, what she was thinking. By not thinking about it, she had hidden it from him
Kelly realized her sin consisted of storing this information somewhere he couldn't find it. How was she to know? She hadn't even met him until many hours later. Even as she thought that, she knew his possession of her had deprived her of the right to keep anything from him. She would, hereafter, need to scour her brain for every little detail that might be important to him, open her mind up to him entirely.
Her mind took the next step. “Adele!” she thought. “She's in danger!” What would he do to her? How could she stop him? How could she warn the happy go lucky Southern belle who would be walking into the nefarious control of her dream man? For she realized at that instant that that's what it was, nefarious. He was controlling her, doing things to her for some mysterious, perhaps evil, purpose. It was too late for her, she knew that. Somehow, he had taken control of her. She could not resist him. She needed him more than she ever needed anyone or anything. But Adele! She had to do something, anything to save her!
All at once she realized that the man had read every one of her thoughts. She saw his angry reaction right in his eyes. She had diverted her will from his and, if only for a moment, consciously plotted to oppose him. He was going to punish her! She knew it! Suddenly, mind wrenching fear swept through her. Tears of dread and self pity came to her eyes.
Raijamoon watched the female's body sag as she began to cry. He read her fear of him. She was right to be afraid; he was angry, angry with himself as well as her. How had he missed it? He was reminded that his ability to read the woman's mind was not unlimited. Unless he drove deeply into her psyche, an action that might prove counterproductive since it would certainly disturb the very mental processes he needed to preserve, there would always be more to discover about her. He had been overconfident, had failed to take full advantage of the tools of persuasion and seduction he could use. He had been distracted by the exciting sensuality of his new existence. This was the second time, the first being yesterday when he had frolicked in the stream oblivious to the fact that the woman was waking. That had been a close run thing. He would not make this mistake again. He was in a strange and ultimately hostile world, surviving only through the lifeline of the female's existence. What if the next time it was something worse than the mere fact someone was coming over, someone he could easily deal with?
He rose from his chair and stepped over to the kneeling, sobbing woman. She was right to be afraid. She had sinned grievously, both by failing to reveal to him her friend was expected and then by trying to oppose his will, to consider taking action that would frustrate his ability to contend with the pretty, young girl who was on her way. She would have to learn a severe lesson.
Kelly tried to shy away when the man's hand reached out for her shoulder. But his mind had frozen her in place. At the instant his flesh made contact with hers, a feeling of deep, bitter unhappiness came over her. Every cell in her body seemed to fall ill. Her insides seemed to twist and turn sickeningly. Her mind begged him to release her, to remove his hand from her, to stop the flow of misery into her, but it kept going on and on and on. It was a deeper, harder feeling than he had inflicted on her before, more personal, as if intentionally cruel. She looked at him, her face a mask of misery, and tried to speak, to beg surcease, but was only able to muster repeatedly the bare beginnings of a single syllable, “Pluhhhhhh! Pluhhhhhh! Pluhhhhhh!” The sounds came from her like the monotonous tones from a scratch on a warped record, jumping back and releasing the same wavy, distorted sound again and again. When the miserable feelings inside her intensified, she understood she had committed another sin by attempting to speak. Even pleas for mercy were outlawed.
Raijamoon withdrew his hand when he realized he had continued the woman's punishment l
onger and far harder than he had intended. His human brain had taken control of him. Anger was not an emotion his race was familiar with, at least not in their domain. They had put it aside eons ago. He felt shame that he had violated one of the precepts of the Whole. He had harmed beyond justification a sentient being. The woman needed to be punished, it was clear. However, the purpose of punishment was to teach, not to cause pain. The female didn't know any better. She was still evolving as his familiar and had many steps yet to take. The very subordination of her mind to his limited her ability to anticipate what he would want from her. Her psyche had been filled with what was to her unexplainable feelings and desires so strong they had pushed aside her ability to think beyond the moment.
And yet, her lack of understanding of her obligations to him did not vitiate the need for punishment. She needed to be deterred whenever she went down a wayward path and to understand clearly that for her errors she would receive a stern and deserved retribution. Nor did it justify or explain her revolt against him. He would need to explore this, calmly, rationally, without rancor or ill will. She was not a prisoner to be tortured or abused when the whim or fancy struck him. That was not the way of the Whole. She was a primitive, albeit sentient, creature, entrusted to his care, who needed to be instructed and guided, even if from time to time it meant she would suffer unpleasant, unhappy consequences.
The woman looked up at him with fear and misery. He would have to undo the damage he had done. She needed to feel his warmth and caring for her. It was not only his responsibility as a superior being, but it was vital to the process of maintaining and strengthening their bond.
Raijamoon knelt down in front of the distraught woman and placed his hands on the side of her head, locking his gaze into hers. She resisted him, as he knew she would, but she quickly succumbed to the messages of comfort and desire he sent to her. He probed her mind and soothed the disturbed parts of it. He took her lips with his and kissed her tenderly, lovingly. He conveyed to her his sorrow at hurting her, his promise to care for her, his assurance he would not harm her friend.
