Dream-Stone

"Ah, my dear young explorer, I wondered when you would finally make it all the way. I've been waiting so long for you to join me and fulfil your destiny."

I spun around and gasped out loud, both here in my dream and back in the real world. It wasn't enough to wake Mel, but certainly enough to register in her sleeping subconscious.

Here, in plain moonlight, standing several feet from me was a giant of a man. That was not the greatest shock though, it was more what he was wearing. A mere stone's throw from where I stood was a semi clothed god of a man, tanned muscular skin appearing out from his loose attire. Robes on top dangled down over his shoulders, open at the front displaying the most manly of bare chests. In the silvery glow, his tanned skin gleamed with an almost mythical aura. Down below was a skirt, yes, a skirt. I wasn't sure what it was made from, maybe grass or some other reed-like material, but it was a skirt, very much like a modern-day kilt. If I didn't know better I would say he was right out of one of my recent guide books . . . a living, breathing Mayan chief.

"Who are you? What do you want? Why am I here?"

All I could do was ask questions, endless questions. I couldn't control myself, words spurting out of my mouth as half spoken, half gasped utterances. My heart was pounding once more, fueled now by fear rather than exertion.

"Oh, I think you know who I am. After all, we've met before, haven't we Samantha?"

"No . . . no we haven't . . . I'd remember. How do you know my name?"

"Don't you remember me, little Samantha? Samantha, the intrepid explorer. Samantha, who wouldn't buy anything from my stall but took my photograph instead. Are you sure you don't remember me?"

"You?" I practically shouted. "You were an old man. A souvenir seller."

"Of course, my dear. Really, how do you think people would react if I showed my true self?"

"So, why are you here? Why am I here? What do you want with me?"

"Maybe, I guess, you already know the answer. Does anything ever come for free?"

"Cut to the chase. What the fuck do you want with me?"

"Temper, temper. Remember where you are."

"Where I am? You gave me a . . . what was it you said . . . a dream-stone, and with it an old wife's tale that all your dreams could come true. And now you tell me to remember where I am."

"Oh, you have such a short memory. What I actually said was that the ancients believed in the dream-stone as a passage to another world, a world where dreams come true. I never said they were your dreams."

"What! Tell me then, what fucking use is this bloody dream-stone of yours then?"

"Oh, you are a feisty one. You'll do well, just the sort we need. Anyway, since you asked so nicely, let me explain. The dream-stone, as you described it, is a portal to another world. Through it we let the chosen ones fulfil their destiny to the good of the Mayan civilization. I chose you and you gratefully accepted."

"And now? Surely I can just wake up from this fucking dream and all will be back to normal."

"Try my child, try! Maybe you can, I'll wager you can't. Don't let me stop you though, I have much more important things to do."

With that I watched as he walked towards the stone sarcophagus. Suddenly my chief was more like the priest at his . . .

It all came to light, pieces of a jigsaw falling into place. Why hadn't I seen it before. This culture after all was famous for ritual celebration, and even . . . I shuddered at the word . . . sacrifice! That wasn't a sarcophagus, it was an altar, and what's more . . . I was going to become the offering in whatever ceremony he had in mind. Panicking, I turned and ran, bolting for the nearest patch of woodland. I hadn't made more than a few yards inside when the eeriness of the night was split once more by my piecing scream, a shrill note ringing through the woods before silence again.

Back in reality, Mel was broken out of her slumber by the sound of my scream. She lay, awoken, in her bed listening closely.

"Sam, was that you?" she called out, but no response.

Not more than a few steps into the woodland, and I was held captive against my will. Red eyes, the glint of stones on a tribal headdress, had appeared from nowhere and taken me by force. I found myself in the hands of what could only be described as two warriors, each a good foot or so taller than myself. An arm under each shoulder, they practically dragged me back into the clearing, my feet kicking out in all directions but without enough traction to make any real impact.

"You can't!" I pleaded, but it was obviously falling on deaf ears, and before long I too quietened down, saving energy for a time when it could be worthwhile. Eventually the two brutes released their hold on me. They kept their position, one either side of my petite frame, and I knew better than to run again. I rubbed gently at my upper arms, easing away the pain from their vice like grip. For sure I couldn't flee, and I wasn't going to be able to fight them either.

"What are you going to do with me? Are you going to sacrifice me?"

There was no response. I watched as other warriors emerged from the woods, red eyes materialising out of the trees. There must have been dozens, if not hundreds, closing in and forming an impenetrable circle around the altar. And then it started, a chant, a tribal chant. It was somewhat intimidating yet at the same time sort of intoxicating. The more I listened, the more I felt the need to listen. It was infectious to the point where I even closed my eyes and imagined myself somewhere back in time. The goings on back at the stone altar were no longer important. I just had to listen to the incessant beat of those warrior voices.

Just had to listen . . . until . . . until . . . silence. A deathly silence, finally broken by a single powerful voice, words commanded in a foreign tongue. Yes, a foreign tongue, but still it seemed I could understand. I opened my eyes and watched as the chief addressed an unseen audience. He was staring at the sky, his words echoing upwards.

"Gods, oh mighty gods of the Mayan peoples. I call upon you, almighty gods. Be one with me on this most sacred of nights. Itzamna, god of almighty creation, bring forth your blessing of the Mayan future. Chaac, I call upon you to water our fertile seed. To the goddess Iz Chel, I ask for your protection of the new-born race. Kinich Ahau, may your sun always shine down on our newly born."

I watched, rooted to the spot, scared to move. The moonlit clearing had taken on a more sinister perspective. Dark storm clouds formed above, the calling of each name met by a combination of thunder and lightning. Two solitary beams of moonlight played down through the clouds, their silvery light illuminating the altar and myself.

I watched as the chief walked forward, holding a vessel of some form up to the clouds.

"Gods, oh mighty gods of the Mayan peoples. I ask for your blessing of my offering for our eternal future. Through the taking of the ancestral waters, I ask your acceptance of the chosen one."

The clouds erupted, a clap of thunder shaking the still of the night.

He lowered the vessel, a wooden cup, and placed it to my lips.

"Drink, my girl. Drink to the gods. Taste the ancestral waters and free yourself to become one with the Mayan peoples."

I was scared. I didn't have too many options, but there was no way I was going to go along with his game. I shook my head, dodging the cup every time it came near. It was a firm hand from behind which subdued my struggle. Once more I was restrained, my eyes staring deep into those of the taller chief and my lips poised in front of the cup.

"Drink, I said!"

Once more he offered the cup to my mouth. Unable to pull away I simply stood there, lips sealed, not offering the slightest opening.

"Oh, you are a feisty one, aren't you my dear. You share so many characteristics of the Mayan race. Now, if you aren't going to drink it willingly, then I have no option."

A barked order and two more warriors appeared, one at each side. They took hold of my arms, the firmness of their grip bringing pain from my earlier wounds. I felt a foot wrap around inside each of my ankles, pulling my legs a little wider apart and locking me in place. Whatever I wanted to do, moving was now not an option. I had one warrior behind, holding my head steady and one at each side restraining my limbs.

"What next?" I wondered to myself.

I didn't have long to wait as a fourth warrior approached, brandishing a ceremonial dagger. Was this to be the end of me? I held my breath as the curved blade, the metal glinting in the moonlight, approached my chest. I couldn't watch. If this was to be the end, then I longed for it to happen quickly. I closed my eyes and waited for the sting of pain as cold metal penetrated my young body. It didn't happen though. Instead, the still of the moment was broken only by the rip of fabric as that blade tore through what remained of my nightshirt. Hands peeled off the shredded garment and I suddenly felt the chill of the night air, and the many watching eyes, on my naked skin. In a flash, my only other bastion of modesty was cut away.

My heart sank. I knew there was nowhere to hide. Here I was, on display to all and sundry, my pale skin lit only by the shine of the silvery moon. I could almost feel a thousand eyes burning down on my small firm breasts, another thousand on my neatly trimmed bush. Was this not sufficient sacrifice on its own? What else did he have in mind? Why could I not just break out of this dream?

Eventually, I opened my eyes once more. The knife-wielding warrior had gone. I was simply staring back at that wooden cup held up in front of my lips. If he thought that stripping me naked would be enough, then he had other things coming. What followed took me quite by surprise.

I shivered at the feel of a hand running down my body. Unable to retreat, I was an open target. I shuddered as his large hand encompassed my small breast, taking it in its entirety into his manly grip. He kneaded away at my pertness, massaging the soft flesh before working at my nubs. I was amazed at how quickly they stood to attention, betraying the shame my body should have been experiencing. Onwards he went, massaging and teasing, pinching and twisting, the embers of desire starting to reach out from my now hardened nubs. The wooden cup nudged back at my lips, but still I kept my resolve. Even a painful pinch at my now sensitive nipple wasn't enough to make me submit.

I stood there, motionless, as fingers ran teasingly down my naked body, snaking their way towards their only possible destination. Once more I held my breath as they edged through my neatly trimmed bush. To date no man had ever been down there, only the odd toy or two. I tried, desperately, to pull my legs together as his surprisingly gentle digits ran over the apex and up between my legs. There was nowhere to go though, no option to move, no chance to stop him reaching his goal. I was all his, and he knew it. I waited, expecting to feel the squeeze of those invading fingers up inside my young sex. It never came though. Instead, there was just the gentle caress of firmness over my innermost sanctuary. Small round circles across my puffy outer lips, eventually dipping inside and spreading my seeping juices over my sweet nub of a clit. I was breathing deeply at the torment that those fingers were bringing, amazed how such a gentle touch could have this much effect.

It didn't take long before those embers of desire were becoming raging fires, streams of pleasure building inside before flowing through my young body. I let out the slightest moan. It was all it took. My lips parted ever so slightly, and, in an instant, I was filled with the most exotic sweet-tasting nectar. I tried to spit it out, but his fingers simply worked their magic and instead I sang to the tune of his fingers once more. A second mouthful followed the first. What it was I didn't know, but almost instantly I felt relaxed, my innermost fight fading away as I swallowed the strange liquid. I never even noticed the fingers stop teasing my swollen clit, nor that I had been released from my restraining warriors. I simply stood there staring at my warrior chief, a blankness in my gaze. He offered the cup once more.

"Drink, drink the ancestral waters and fulfil your destiny to the Mayan race."

This time, I followed his command and drank the remaining liquid. There was a heaviness in my body, my strength somewhat seeping away. Any fight I once had was long gone. I listened to each and every word.

"Gods, oh mighty gods of the Mayan peoples. Itzamna, Chaac, Iz Chel, and Kinich Ahau. I ask my divine gods to bear witness to the offering I make on this sacred night. May you bless the ploughed furrow, nurture the planted seed and protect the future of our Mayan race."

He continued to address his unseen deity as he removed his robes. I could see every muscle, every sinew as he stood in the moonlight. I couldn't even resist, my strength and feistiness sapped away, when he picked me up in his strong arms and carried me off. The feel of his muscular chest against my petite body was both exciting and intimidating. I lay, limply, in his arms as he headed towards the stone altar. The chill of cold stone against my back sent a shiver through my spine as he lowered me down, my legs now dangling over one end of the rough stone, and my naked ass balanced right over the edge.

"I ask almighty gods, for your acceptance of this young woman as the mother of our eternal rebirth. I make this offering to you, my eternal gods. Be one with me as I consume what is willingly offered."

A flash of lightning lit the night sky, the accompanying rumble of thunder adding intensity to my plight.

For an instant I was almost broken out of my intoxicated state. Whether it was the shock of that cold rough stone against my skin or the understanding of what I was listening to, I didn't know, but suddenly the realization of where I was and what was happening had hit home. In the middle of a moonlit clearing, atop a stone alter, I lay naked. I fought, as hard as I could, to summon movement out of my heavy limbs but to no avail. For all I tried, there was not an ounce of physical strength in my tiny frame. I watched as the grass skirt went the same way as those robes. In the moonlight, and from my perilous position, he looked larger than ever before.

His words rang out through my brain, each individual word now with added meaning. I wasn't a sacrificial offering. I was to be the future for the Mayan civilization. He intended to breed me.

I struggled for dear life, but with the effects of the drink I couldn't make any meaningful movement. All I could do was watch, shaking internally, as he approached my dangling legs. My eyes were focused on what could only be described as a serpent rising upwards from his groin. Step by step he encroached on my naked body. A hand ran down my naked stomach, fingers flowing over my mound and down my thighs. I shook at the feel, knowing I was unable to prevent whatever was to follow. One by one he lifted my legs, spreading them wide over the edges of the altar. My naked pussy, lips still gleaming from the earlier torment, was his to have and I had not an ounce of strength left to resist. If nothing else, I had to be relieved for one part that he had taken the liberty of moistening me up. Otherwise that monster was going to split me in two.

"Accept this offering as the mother of our eternal rebirth. Be with me as I plant the seeds of our future."

"Noooo," I cried as I felt the tip of his manhood nudge up against my exposed lips.

By now I was trembling both on the altar and on my bed. My sudden outburst was enough to waken Mel from her slumber. The door slowly opened and Mel stood there perplexed by the scene inside. Here I was, my shaking frame, naked on top of my mattress illuminated only by an eerie greenish glow filling my room, gently permeating through the darkness of the night.

"Sam," Mel called out. "Sam, it's me. You're having a bad dream."

I stiffened as I felt the head of his monster press firmly against my moist lips. Even more so as my lips parted, and he moved up towards my tender young opening.

"Aghhh!"

I screamed as he inched into me, my tight pussy walls stretching out to their limit to accept his rampant manhood. Further and further, deeper and deeper, he impaled himself into my young sex. I gasped as he bottomed out, the head of his manhood pressing firm against my innermost boundaries. And then he was off. Long strokes emptying and filling my young flesh as he worked his cock in and out. My body rocked in time with his thrusts on the stone altar, tender breasts bouncing each time he rammed into my tight pussy.

In the bedroom, Mel watched as I took on the same, almost possessed state. My body was rocking, my tits bouncing to the tune of an invisible invader. The darkness of the night filled with a greenish glow.

And still he continued to pound away at his sacrificial offering. I was moaning uncontrollably as he worked my sex into a fervor. Bucking on the stone table, my body went into spasm as the first wave of climax hit.

I didn't know that Mel was there, watching, nor what actions she would be taking. In real life I was a woman possessed, but real life was now just a reflection of what was happening under the moonlight. Which was real? I no longer knew.

Still I bounced on the bed and on the stone altar, my body in the throes of orgasm after orgasm as he pillaged my sodden cunt. I was at the point of passing out, not able to bear any more of this euphoric torture when it suddenly stopped. I lay there, motionless, his manhood still deep inside, stretching me wide.

Was that it?

Had he ploughed his furrow and shared the seed of the gods?

Was I destined to be the mother of the Mayan civilization?

Almost in slow motion, the dream faded away. The woods first, then slowly the grassy clearing followed suit. Each imposing warrior disappeared into the dark from where they came, and finally the chief himself. His cock, still impaled into my tender pussy, was the last image to fade into nothingness.

And then darkness once more. Darkness except for a softly spoken voice. I listened, at first not recognizing the words. It was a woman's voice, a voice I recognised.

"Sam," it called out, over and over again. "Are you alright?"

Finally, my eyes opened. I was naked, my heart pounding and my breathing ragged. There was soreness throughout my aching body, but strangest of all was the sensitivity down below. I looked up and saw Mel, sitting at the side of me. She was looking down at me, a worried yet comforting expression on her face.

"What are you doing here? Is something wrong?" I whispered.

"Shhh," she replied. "Just a bad dream. Come here my little Sam, let Auntie Mel look after you."

Without even covering up, I snuggled into her arms. Before long I was back to sleep, the previous dream becoming a distant memory.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was some time later that Mel actually explained what she had seen that night. She explained being woken by my screams and walking in to find me like a woman possessed on my bed. Being the sweet charmer that she always was, Mel left out the more sordid details. What came next though was a little harder to believe.

"So, you see Sam, that little statue of yours seemed to have had some hold over you. I walked in and you were doing your thing. I tried to wake you but had no luck. It was only then that I noticed the green glow. It was coming from that statue, the one you had taken from the old guy. I quickly put it outside and within minutes you started to come around."

"You're making it up Mel," I scoffed.