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 horses 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.
The couples would remain close friends, vacationing together throughout the years.
The fathers bemoaned the fact Mike and Paula had never dated in college.
They were sure if they’d been together, they would never have associated with the low class people who had coerced them into the camping misadventure.
Eventually, their missing children were no longer mentioned. Paula’s mother found the subject too depressing for their cruises.
Mike heard sounds in the distance and saw a few trails of smoke.
His eyes squinted in the afternoon sun as he got his first glimpse of the Indian village.
It was like stepping through a window in time as he gawked at animal hide teepees mixed in with small cabin-like structures.
Corrals and stables were at one edge of the village, and horses came over to the fence whinnying at their returning friends.
People began waving and gathering together as their warriors and acting chief returned.
Mike studied several attractive young Indian women and was already planning to use all the charismatic charm that carried him through high school and college to win them over.
His mind refused to believe an entire village reflected the sadistic lunacy of the men he was traveling with.
As they got closer, a very pretty, very pregnant, woman waved excitedly. Wind Seeker’s horse moved to a trot and Mike had to run to keep from being choked.
His hands reached for the flopping organ between his thighs as it pulled treacherously.
The Indian swung off his horse and into the woman’s arms.
“How are you feeling, Shining Star?”
“I’m fine.
I’ve missed you terribly though.”
Shining Star threw her arms around his neck and a look of desire flushed the beautiful woman’s face.
“It’s nice to be home.
I have good news.
The Clan has collected a doctor from the flatlands.
Justin will be bringing her out in a week or so to meet you.”
Wind Seeker knew his wife was nervous about their first child.
They could tell it would be large.
“That’s wonderful.
I’ll make sure the women know in case there’s anything else they’d like her to look at while she’s here.”
Shining Star glanced at Mike. “I see you’ve brought us a dog, as well.”
Mike wanted to shrink into the ground.
This beautiful woman with the smiling eyes was studying him.
Mike knew what she would see.
A pale naked man with a shaved head, collared and leashed to her husband’s horse with a pack on his back, reeking of dried piss while his pink penis began to harden at the sight of her.
Fringe on her leather shift fluttered while she calmly walked over to him.
Her small hand reached under his cock and Mike stiffened further at the softness of her skin as she looked into his eyes.
She raised her other hand and clapped her hands together, smacking his erection hard.
He hissed an intake of breath as she said, “Bad dog.”
He struggled not to cry.
He looked up to see most of the tribe had gathered for the Indians’ return and had witnessed his humiliation with amused grins. Worse, no one stepped forward to stop it.
Wind Seeker glared at the dog’s disrespect of his wife and called over a tall tanned man.
Mike could see by his blonde hair he wasn’t an Indian, even though he dressed like them.
“Yellow Hawk, cage the dog.
I’ll deal with him when we’re settled in.”
“Yes, Wind Seeker.”
He untied Mike’s leash and let his pack fall to the ground.
He looked over Mike‘s shoulder and called, “Welcome home, Black Horse.”
The man named Yellow Hawk led Mike away.
They passed by the buildings where a few curious Indians stared at him.
All had disgusted looks on their faces.
Some pretty young Indian woman pointed at him and laughed. “A dog, we have a new dog.”
Mike’s terrified, depressed mind realized the whole crazy tribe thought the same.
They reached a corral at the edge of the village where Yellow Hawk led him into the barn and past the stalls.
Against the back wall was a four foot wooden cage.
Mike couldn‘t take it anymore and began to beg.
“Please, I’m one of you.
Please help me get out of here."
The man ignored him and pushed him down to all fours.
“We can grab two horses,” Mike screamed.
“They’re all on the other side of town.
They won’t even know we’re gone.”
Mike made up the plan as it flooded into his panicked mind.
“What’s wrong with you?
They beat me,” Mike sobbed.
He felt a large hand reach under his ass and between his legs to grab his hands so he wouldn’t tear his ring as he was pushed into the cage.
Yellow Hawk tied the leash to a bar hanging overhead and left, returning a minute later with a bowl of water.
Mike continued to beg to the silent blonde man.
The door was closed and lashed shut then the big man stood and left the stable.
Mike laid his head against the bars and cried.
As the sun set, Indians brought a few horses in to be stabled.
No one said a word or even glanced at Mike.
He pulled at the leash and discovered it was long enough to reach the water, but not to lie down.
He was exhausted after traveling to the village with the heavy pack, and rested back against the bars. No one brought him dinner.
He told them you spoke. They picked the white man to trick you.
The unbidden thought whispered in his mind.
He was being starved because dogs don’t speak.
In the morning, the Indians came to get the horses.
Once again, they ignored the dog.
Mike was in crisis needing to piss and move his bowels.
His stomach was rumbling for breakfast.
Finally, the cramps were too bad and he squatted as close as he could to the far corner of the small space and brushed hay over the filth.
A few minutes later, Wind Seeker showed up.
Mike wondered if someone had been watching for him to finally relieve himself.
He was terrified the big man would beat him again.
The Indian didn’t say a word as he pulled him out of his cage and led him back through town.
They approached a small cabin with a long, wide porch.
Wind Seeker pulled Mike up the steps and dropped into a heavy wooden chair.
He snapped his fingers, pointing.
Mike closed his eyes and obediently knelt by his side.
Shining Star brought her husband a glass of cool tea and glanced at Mike’s penis.
It stirred, but thank god, didn’t rise.
A young Indian boy of about eighteen was smiling broadly as he approached the porch.
His friends shuffled in the street behind him.
“You won, Raining Thunder?”
“Yes, Wind Seeker.
I’m still the fastest,” the young man said proudly.
“Then, you will train the dog. When he’s learned his lessons, return him so he can be trained by a man.”
“He’ll be well trained, Wind Seeker,” the young Indian assured him.
Mike stared in disbelief as the leash was handed to the kid.
He was easily the tallest and most well muscled of his friends.
He stood straight with an air of arrogance Mike wanted to slap off his face.
His black eyes narrowed at Mike and he smiled.
The young Indian pulled him to his feet and led him off the porch to his waiting friends.
“Ewe, he stinks,” one of the youths held his nose.
“He’s still my dog.”
Raining Thunder challenged the young men with his eyes.