Teach Us How... Pt. 03

Teach us how...

This section contains chapters 3 and 4. I am trying to keep the sections as close to the same size as I can rather than have short chapters.

As per the last chapters Comments are open with the same provisos as outlined before.

Please enjoy.

Chapter three - Rebellion.

Jennifer relates how the peaceful and curious minds of the Viendri were changed forever. Their hero, a man that was part of their original creation, needs to save them where they should have been able to save themselves. Realising that they did not have the necessary traits within themselves to rise up and throw off the shackles of slavery he has to undertake the task himself but in doing so he must also harness the minds that he knows have a greater capacity to act then they have previously done.

He forces the benevolent companion of his God, Ruthven, whom he knows as Mira, to face the fact that the world, at this time, is full of hatred, fear and ignorance. In order to protect themselves and those that they love she must change her previous genetic recipe in the matrices she has created to bring them forth to contain an element of ruthlessness and self-preservation that she had not thought they would ever need.

The great beast beneath him snorted and stamped one of its front feet in impatience. It could smell the humans not more than one hundred feet from where he was being held in check by the tall, muscular man on its back. A man that he knew he must obey and constrain itself to only doing what its master permitted it to do. A quiet word of command and the beast stood still. Its ears rotated back and forth waiting and listening.

"Lord Dickson!" the man called out in a voice that echoed across the farming land and into the mountains behind the massive mansion that stood like some sort of castle above the surrounding grasslands and the rippling wheat that was stirred by the gentle breeze that flowed across the landscape cooling both man and beast.

"Who dares disturb my sleep!" an indignant voice came back from within the house.

"I dare!" the man roared back and even the beast cowered a little at the power of the voice that rang out and echoed off the mountains.

There was a flurry of movement from within the house and the surrounding barracks that housed the Lord's soldiers. Lord Dickson was so confident in his safety and his army that he did not post guards at his home or on the road that led to his mansion. Who would dare attack the stronghold of the richest and most powerful of the landlords? He appeared on the balcony outside his bedroom window and immediately gasped in horror at the sight that met him.

At least forty dragons, reds, blues, greens and yellows, stood ranged in a circle around his home and the barracks that contained his soldiers and families. In the middle of them was a gigantic silver beast and on its back was a man wearing a cloak of the deepest darkest black he had ever seen. It made the man look even bigger than he was as it flowed and billowed in the morning breeze. Its shifting revealing the harnesses that held the glitter of highly polished and deadly blades that adorned his body over the tunic of gold and red. He was tall in his saddle of leather and rope. Even from the distance that Lord Dickson observed the man he could see that he was strong of thigh, broad of chest and his arms looked like those of a giant brought to life in his wildest nightmares. The man carried two long swords, their golden hilts glittering in the early morning sunshine. The blades were a deep blue of some metal that Dickson could not determine. The man twirled them as if he held common daggers in his hands before deftly sheathing them in the crisscrossed scabbards at his back that were cleverly arranged to allow access to them despite the cloak he wore. He regarded the man sternly as he folded his arms across his massive torso.

"You are to pack your family, your servants and your guards and leave this land within a half day. If you do not then everything you hold dear and jealously will be taken from you. The judgement of the Viendri has been found against you and yours. Your punishment is that you will be expelled from this land never to return. You will not be permitted to take more than food to supply your people for three days, the clothes on your back and those mementos of your life here that have not been stolen from the Viendri or made by the Viendri for your personal wealth and gain.

"Do I make myself clear?" the man asked conversationally as he observed the troops gathering in front of the impressive home. He knew that none of them would attack such a formidable force tromping and scratching at the ground in front of them. The riders of each dragon sitting as easily in their saddles as he did.

A horn sounded from a tower that made up one of the corners of Dickson's impressive home. The man on the silver beast smiled as the noise boomed out and across the mountains and down the valley. It was a rally call. Dickson had set his man to call for those that he was allied with to come to support him. By the pitch and urgency of the trumpet call, the man recognised that Dickson was calling for every available man to come to his aid.

The call of the horn echoed for a good thirty seconds before it faded. The man on his beast and the man glaring at him from his balcony waited. "There will be no answering call, Dickson," the man said softly but Dickson heard him as if he stood on the balcony with him. "You are the last of the tyrants to be sent from this peaceful land. The last to be destroyed or banished so that you and your likes will never disturb the harmony of the village of Little Prism and those wonderful special ones that have been born here and were creating a new world in which all would benefit.

"You, Lawson, Brannigan, and others including the despicable, Sunderson took what was precious and beautiful and tried to corrupt it. Using their talents for only you and your cronies. Taking from them and not sharing with the rest of the people. Forcing them to do your bidding as you enslaved their siblings, their parents and grandparents. Such cruel men and women have no place in my town!" the man spat in anger.

"Your town!" Dickson could not help the derision in his voice.

"My name is Christopher Ruthven and this town has always been my home. It has always been my responsibility to ensure that it stayed a peaceful and harmonious place. A town where everyone loved each other and the special ones were allowed to learn, to help where they wanted and to build the things that they saw as beneficial to not just this town but freely shared their knowledge with any outside of the shield of the Prism so that the world would learn and become a better place.

"It was a place where they played their music for everyone to hear. To paint with the mastery of those that know their subjects and shared the beauty within to all. A place where they could come and go as they pleased and bring back tales of adventure and joy. Even sadness and corruption as lessons to us all. They are beautiful to look upon and yet you and your men simply saw them as holes to fuck and mouths to stick your cocks. None of you realised that your lust never touched them nor did you corrupt their minds even as you tied them to posts or to your beds and used them without care.

"No more!" Christopher finished with a roar as he tapped his great beast and mentally commanded it.

A great belch of flame and heat roared from the dragon's throat and monstrous maw. The heat and flames engulfed the barracks of the soldiers immediately to the left and right of the big steel reinforced gates that barred entrance to the home proper. All around the perimeter of the castle-like mansion other beasts roared in answer as they covered the barracks of the soldiers that protected the lord and his family. Scores of men erupted from every building. Christopher only just held back his amusement as naked women and boys ran from the long buildings and ran screaming into the yards behind the amassed guards. Several dozen more guards followed them out in various states of dress. Obviously Dickson had believed he could conceal his true forces from the army camped on his doorstep.

He clicked to the beast beneath him and watched as Dickson and the guards gasped in horror as a big silver taloned claw struck down the gate and rendered it asunder. A blast of white hot flame had the men scurrying backwards as the silver beast turned the ruins to ashes and molten metal.

Christopher smiled to himself as he saw the three hundred soldiers blanch as they gazed around themselves and saw the impressive dragons nodding their heads and letting their eyes blaze in anger. He knew that if they tried to gather weapons the dragons would roar their lethal flames once more and many of them would never rise from the ground where they would burn with the fierceness of a smithy's furnace. He was pleased that none of them risked such a move.

"You have three hours, Dickson," Christopher called out before he and the dragons disappeared.

*

Mira giggled as she opened the straight path from the mansion and through the valleys towards the boundaries of Little Prism. It was the only path available to the men and women, children and the barking dogs that accompanied them as they slowly walked away from the massive mansion. A darkness, thick, impenetrable by human or animal eyes had descended over the mansion once the three-hour time-limit had expired. No-one had been permitted to leave the confines of the yard after Christopher had left. All were constrained to simply packing some food and bags of clothing. Even though the Lord and his servants tried to take silver, gold and bejewelled artefacts, they found that they could not touch the objects as Mira caused their molecular structure to phase out of place. The objects were mere shadows of what once stood proudly on shelves and in opulent cabinets that displayed the Lord's wealth for all to see. Even the wonderful paintings that hung on the wall were untouchable. The guards found themselves unable to pick up swords, knives and spears that had been made in the blacksmith factories by the Special Ones as whips cracked over their heads or across their shoulders. Half of them found themselves without uniforms, belts and boots as their clothing disappeared for the same reason.

Even the Lord's boots, made by the skilled hand of one of the Viendri as he was forced to watch his mother spread her legs and take cock after cock of the Lord's house servants as payment for his diligent work. Mira took particularly sadistic pleasure in watching the man walking barefoot on the sharp stones and heated ground as he walked clad in only his britches and singlet that was his nightwear.

Attempts to burn the mansion down were also thwarted as flames did not take to the walls, curtains or bed linen. Dickson was thwarted at every step as he attempted to defy the command of the dragon rider. He finally admitted defeat when he found himself grovelling in the dirt road along with his men and their families and could not see the mansion behind them through the dark fog that had descended. He screamed his defiance but the wind ripped his words from his mouth and were barely heard by any of his men. He slumped, shoulders bowed as that same wind pushed at his back and rounded fat buttocks forcing him and his party to follow the road with its dust billowing all around and over them.

Like she had done with the other dozen or so Lords that Christopher had expelled the trip was as short as she could determine. Transporters moved the entourage without their noticing and dumped them in exotic places all over the known world. It would take them many years, if they survived, to ever attempt to venture back to Little Prism. Even if they succeeded they would never penetrate the barriers. She had a particularly barren and bitterly cold island for which this despicable man and his followers were going to be dumped. All she was waiting for was Christopher's final addressing to the group she held silently milling on the road as the rest of the entourage disappeared.

When the darkness lifted Christopher noted that there were families standing bewildered and afraid in the clearings of the forest that they had once seen as a straight road. He moved forwards on his horse that had morphed from its dragon form and brought it to a standstill in front of the frightened group.

"You have been found to be innocent of the acts that your previous Lord forced upon you. Ruthven has declared that you were as helpless as the special ones were. Forced to do as you were told unless others were punished for your disobedience. Because of this Ruthven has spared you and asks only this in return. You must solemnly declare that you will never let another hold such power over you again. That you will always strive to become the best of what you are and wish no ill nor covet others. If you can do this then you are free to return to either the farm where I have taken you from or return to your families that are scattered around the lands and are rebuilding the town in a style more befitting a humble but happy people," he smiled sincerely at the hopeful faces that looked up at him.

"However," his face turned hard and his eyes glinted like ice, "betray this promise and you will perish the moment you show your true nature. The way is still open for any that believe that the world I describe is not for them and they would prefer others to slave for them. Simply turn your back on me and move away. The rest of you follow me."

He was pleased that several men recognised their true natures and turned from him and walked in the direction that they had seen their master. Darkness took them quickly. He noted that several women, he assumed them to be wives of the men that left, smiled in delight. Perhaps Mira had selected the women and children hoping that they would have rejected the men. He saw one woman turn her mate from her and push him in the direction of the others. She clapped as the man was consumed by the darkness almost immediately cutting off his curses at her betrayal.

"Is that all of them, Mira?" he asked in his mind as he did not look back but kept his horse heading in the direction Mira was guiding him.

"As at all of the other banishments, Christopher, I have not let any male, female or child, escape my deep scanning of their psyche. I even urged that woman to force her husband away. She did not have the courage before but she is very grateful to see the back of him. He was a cruel husband and she is pleased she did not bear children to him. You may lead them on, Christopher assured that they are all true and loyal to Ruthven and to you," she finished with a warm giggle of happiness.

Mira had worked frenetically on her filtering matrices ever since she had discovered the internal problems of Little Prism and called up her most fierce protector to come and rectify the problems. Now the Prism scanned deeply into the psyche of both her residents and those that approached the shield boundaries. She would no longer be caught out by those that had deep seated needs to dominate, control and use violence and trickery to bring those to heel that they believed were beneath them. It was not just to protect the special ones but also the other residents in the township that wished to live peaceful and fulfilling lives.

Christopher had forbidden her, backed by Ruthven, to manipulate the memories of the remaining special ones and their families that had suffered cruelly at the hands of these unscrupulous men and women.

"If we begin changing their memories then, we hope it never does, if it occurs again then the special ones will not see the signs. They will not be prepared to take action and rid themselves of the threat. It cannot be that an ancient old man from the past comes to their rescue each time. The Viendri, though they do not wish to be called that anymore, must be able to protect themselves and, if necessary, they must be able to destroy that threat," Christopher had argued quietly.

"Destroy?" Mira had asked fearfully. Her voice was a high-pitched squeak that almost grated on the men's ears.

"Yes, my sweet girl. The special ones must be able to kill those that threaten and attempt to kill them or those that they hold dear. They meekly did as they were told as men forced their sisters to their knees and made them suck cock. Helplessly watched as boys and girls of their group were whipped and made to bleed because they refused to do things that they did not know how to do. How can a child understand how to repair a human body that has been cut and broken from a fall from a horse when they do not have the tools nor the dexterity to handle those tools? They may have the knowledge inside their massive minds but that does not mean that they can necessarily do the task. As has always been the case, those that have a natural affinity to those things find that they can use the knowledge inside them. They will continue to absorb and learn and apply those skills. For some reason these special ones have not unlocked those skills, either from fear or because they were never exposed to the necessary experiences to trigger them. It will be of interest to see which of them suddenly finds skills and the knowledge to apply it where they did not find it before.

"Those skills are not going to be forced upon them simply by ramming hard cocks up their arses and their dry cunts! Nor by doing the same to their parents, brothers, sisters and friends. The special ones must learn to react fast enough and ruthlessly enough that such a thing will never happen to them again!" Ruthven growled as he and Christopher shared tankards of a very fine ale he had found in Germanic lands of eastern Europe.

"Mira," Christopher said soothingly as he realised that the disembodied voice was close to hysterical as she listened to the new requirements these two warriors wanted her to program into her precious people. "Did you not hear what was discussed between me, Cassandra and Keefer? Did you not hear how after Ingrid, the last of the great leaders, passed and the first of those cruel, greedy and unscrupulous men bided their time to take over the council and decided to make the special ones their slaves?"

"I listened, Christopher but I did not understand. I am sorry but I am a gentle creature. I could not be in this form if I did not possess the softness, compassion and love within me to help those that need me to help them see the beauty of their world. I help them see the darkness within themselves and help them purge it. They in turn help others. I give them the skills and capacity to learn, to gather knowledge into themselves that they can use to help others. I let them see into every living thing. To taste their essence and understand powers that would otherwise be beyond them. They have eyes that see things that none but themselves can see. Ears that can listen to the heartbeat of the cosmos and be comforted by it like a mother comforts her child by holding them close. I show them the joy in the smell and the taste of the air, the earth, water and even the fires. I let them sense the stories that are within every living thing. Even the rocks, the mountains and the deserts are alive to them.

"To now give them the power to destroy is against my every fibre. I do not know that I can do such a thing, Ruthven, Christopher!" she implored and the tears she had been holding back came forth as sobs from her bionic constructions that flittered around the massive ship. Ruthven and Christopher also brushed tears from their eyes as they were so attuned to her that her emotions poured through them.

"I do not wish you to give them powers to stop a heart or make brains explode, Mira," Ruthven said gently. "I want you to give them the power to create weapons of the mind that can go forth and do those tasks for them that they know are necessary. I do not want them to physically end the life of another being but I want them to be able to threaten and, if necessary, remove the cause from their home."

"Give them the ability to teleport unwanted beings from the town and to places outside the shield where they can no longer do harm to them or others," Christopher said softly. "If the threat is more violent then close your eyes and send me to take care of it."

Mira gasped in shock. "Mira!" Christopher growled low in his chest. "If Iona had known how to kill, she would not be ashes on the mountain after her lifeless body was thrown down a mine shaft. Dazed, confused and helpless to those mongrels she could do nothing to protect herself. The instinct for survival must become part of them. They must believe that they can go to anywhere in this wonderful world and, later, in the great embrace of the cosmos without fear. To not be able to protect themselves or those that they love is a lack that can no longer be tolerated. The death of a special one must be as rare as the teeth within the beak of a chicken.

"The special ones must instil a love of them and their brethren in everyone within Little Prism. I do not want them spreading some smell or wiggling their fingers and making even the cruellest tyrant to fall in love with them but through deed and words they must win the hearts of those around them. It is why you gave them such intelligence, empathy and telepathic powers. It is so they understand those that want to be near them. Do not let them see the evil intent in a man or woman and they will simply lie back helplessly and take whatever punishment or cruel games these people want to play with them. Give them the courage and the knowledge on how to thwart such things. If that means that they must kill then they must kill. All creatures have the power to defend themselves and their loved ones, Mira, you have left the Special Ones defenceless and that can no longer be!"

"Mira, that is an order!" Ruthven grunted when Christopher finished pleading his case.

Mira fled from both of them but she knew that she would obey them. It was an order from her commander and she could neither physically nor mentally refuse him. Her matrix code was changing even as she brooded deep within the confines of her cubical world and thought back on the meeting that Christopher had referred to with the frightened and sad remnants of the Viendri.

*

Christopher let the horse put its head down and pull at the sweet grass that met its muzzle when the man dismounted and gave it a gentle pat on its neck and thanked it for carrying him up the mountain. The grass around him was lush and showed signs of only being cropped by the wild goats, deer and sheep that populated this side of the tall mountain that loomed over the township of Little Prism.

He looked around and saw that none had followed the tall, cloaked stranger on his borrowed horse as he cantered from the town on the eastern road that he knew petered out to become only a narrow track when it branched off to the ancient resting site. The General of the guards had given him some surly looks and a couple of times Christopher thought the big man was going to come and confront him over the death of the Councillor. Christopher pretended not to notice as he chose tack and saddle from the array the innkeeper, Randal offered him. Kitting out the horse for a short journey seemed to satisfy the big guard. Christopher wondered if that was because he had decided to wait until Christopher returned from wherever he went so he could question him on that as well.

Assured that he was not followed, Christopher let the horse meander its own way up the steep track until he reached its summit around five hundred yards above the town. The big man had sat motionless on the horse and stared down at the busy population. He spat onto the ground in disgust as he plainly saw the buildings of the northern end. They were hovels in comparison to the rest of the town, however, he did note that they looked cleaner. Not fresh paint clean but he could not see sagging rooves or broken tiles on the rooftops. He saw walls that seemed to be quite adequately sealed against the weather.

He stiffened in his seat when he saw the red-clad children in a line. Their top halves uncovered leaving them in either a skirt or short trousers that covered their legs. His eyes narrowed as it seemed that they were all tied, by the hands, to a tall post in front of them. A guard, minus shining breast plate and arm bands, stood behind each one. They were waiting for a dark robed individual, Christopher believed him to be some sort of magistrate or judge, to signal them. The man raised and then dropped his hands. Christopher turned away when the faint squeal of one of those children reached his ears as the lash the guard was wielding broke against his back.

Quickly he turned his head as he saw that one of the topless figures was a large breasted woman and the whip had found her unprotected chest. He saw blood begin to drip from the rounded globe.

Urging the horse on he was soon out of sight of the punishment being meted out though he wanted to do nothing else but gallop down to the guards and slay them with the twinned swords he had strapped to his back. He could not get to that side of town from where he now was on the mountainside. Between him and that enclosure was the steep sides of a ravine that was cut by the tributary of one of the rivers that flowed down from adjoining mountains and encircled the town before joining up further to the southeast and flowed to the ocean many miles further away, well outside the boundaries of the Prism's shield. It was a ravine that the village had defended extremely successfully against the wolves and giant cats that had threatened to decimate the village. The ravine was easy to defend against creatures that could not leap the chasm nor scramble up the steep sides if they did manage to climb down to the bottom. It had been a safety net behind them when the villagers had hunkered down in their palisade surrounded huts and holes they had dug to hide their animals and the younger children. To see it now being used as a barrier to the Special Ones made him even angrier even though he knew that the barrier was purely illusion for the powers of the special minds.

He sensed Cassandra and one other before he saw them. His mouth opened before he thought. "How can you let those monsters defile the Viendri like that!" he screamed as the woman appeared out of thin air not ten paces from where he stood. Beside her appeared a young man of around the same age as the woman, perhaps a little older. The man looked frightened and almost cowered back from the big man that glared at his companion.

"I told you we no longer use that name, Christopher," the woman said coolly. Unlike the man boy she was not frightened of him but her eyes were still troubled.

"Why do they not teleport away from such atrocities!?" Christopher yelled as he took several steps towards the pair.

"Because if they do then when, or if, they come back they will find the body of a parent, a sibling or other relatives that the council notes are part of their family, with their throats cut and their bodies in a midden heap. One other will be hung in front of their home, gutted and a spike driven up their arsehole or cunny until it protrudes from their skull. It will be their only warning. If they do it again then they might as well die outside of Little Prism because if they return they will be subject to a bloody torture to learn what they have learnt and then, if they have not died, raped until they have no strength left. If they have learnt something that the council decides would be of benefit to themselves then they will be left alone to either heal or die by themselves. None of us are permitted to tend to them other than to bring water and food. If what they have learnt is not considered worthwhile then their throat is cut and they are dumped on the midden pile where their parents and the rest of their family have been dumped. There is no cleansing fire for their bodies," Keefer, surprisingly, growled out in a voice that Christopher did not believe the young-looking man had the balls to develop. The other surprise was that Christopher sensed a ball of anger inside the man and it was very close to exploding from him in a burst of destructive anger that may well destroy everything around him.

"How has this happened?" asked Christopher as he slumped to the ground and sat in the soft grass and held his head in his hands.

"About two hundred years after the last great leader of the town, Ingrid, died there came to power a certain man by the name of Caleb Sunderson..." Cassandra began as she nimbly crossed her legs and sat opposite Christopher. Keefer arranged himself as comfortably as his gangly body could beside her.

For hundreds of years the villagers had simply been taking the special ones for granted. They came and went in some mysterious way and they did not interfere. They had forgotten how much they owed to those brilliant minds and creative skills. I don't know why. Perhaps there had been too big a gap in the generations. Maybe the power of the Prism waned for some period of time that made the villagers doubt that they had had almost mystical beings among them for hundreds of years before. Whatever, their ignorance of the special ones and what they could do was not acceptable to Sunderson.

For all the modernness of Little Prism there was a lack of record keeping pertaining to the Viendri. The new council of elders, under the leadership of Sunderson, suddenly realised this lack and hunted high and low for information about the special ones that had lived and passed in their village. The old way of passing on knowledge of such things by word of mouth was no longer acceptable. The new look council wanted to update the records that they did have but could not find someone that had any reliable knowledge. It was an earnest plea and directed to the leadership of the Viendri as a genuine concern that the history of the talented people would be lost and their deeds forgotten by future generations. There was no hint of animosity, betrayal or any other malice in the request. Council had always been protective of the Viendri and no-one believed that anything untoward would happen should this information be passed on.

There was a young man, Marcus, who, at the time, was the oldest of the special group. He came forward and told the council that he would give them all the information that they wanted but it was not to be made publicly available. The council agreed but not before Marcus had extracted several promises from them.

Sunderson asked for the details of these conditions with a promise that they would be granted if the information the man supplied was found to be true, correct and complete. He wanted the scrolls, journals or whatever the Viendri had before he would make his decision.

Being naïve and not having any reason to doubt the councillors, a mountain of information was handed over to the record-keepers. The council had always been supportive of and in fact, encouraged, the Viendri to widen their knowledge and apply their special talents to improving the town and those that they encountered outside the village during their exploring. It was comprehensive to the point that Marcus had begun to keep the records of all the present-day Viendri. It was exactly the information that Sunderson and his cronies wanted.

They pretended to listen to Marcus as he presented his conditions.

No one is allowed to force a special one into marriage or any other partnership that the special one does not agree to. Not that it had ever happened in the past except in the extraordinary circumstances of Rosanna. A Viendri woman that had been wooed by a Viking warrior and had won her heart. She had married him and produced many fine sons and daughters but none of them Viendri. She had ruled the town for almost one hundred years and was the oldest known of the Viendri.

None were to enter their homes or places of study without express permission. Too many times impatient tradespeople had harangued and chased a special one for the completion of a project that was taking time to resolve all of its problems. It had to be understood that Viendri did not see the urgency of work that normal people did. The talented minds preferred to ensure that their latest inventions worked perfectly, not satisfactorily or with flaws. It would mean extra work when the device was perfected and constrain one or more of the Viendri to the task rather than let them get on with learning new things.

The last and most important one was that nobody could use a special one's ability for their own purposes. It was the right of any of them to refuse to use any of their abilities or their knowledge, even if it meant the death of a villager or a disaster for the town. Marcus told them in no uncertain terms that they would destroy the town rather than be forced into the slavery.

The council, inexplicably, refused. They argued that it was the responsibility of all villagers to aid when they could or were capable. Marcus walked away. It was not known until later that he had done more than just walk away from the discussions with the Council. He had known, in some way that he never revealed, some said it was a prescient power that only he possessed at the time, that the Council would not grant his demands. He told his group of around thirty Viendri that he had withheld journals and diaries of some of their powers and that they would need to use those powers to protect themselves in the future. These powers included the ability to create figments of themselves to fool watching eyes, teleporting of objects and people to places around the valley and outside of the Prism's shield and lastly, he emphasised that none of them must reveal their ability to see into all things and be able to manipulate their very structure so as to turn them into something completely different.

He and his group vanished from the town for almost five years. It was reported by future leaders of the Viendri that Marcus drilled these tenets into his followers every day until they mastered their powers and could school their faces to show no signs that they knew anything more than what the Council already had information about. He told them all that dark times were coming for them all and that they must be able to resist without resorting to violence.

How Marcus foresaw what was to happen to his people Mira could not fathom but she was certain that it was his training of their minds that prevented the violence that did eventually come when she recalled Christopher from his travels and set him lose on the evil that had overtaken his town. She understood now why Christopher and Ruthven wanted her to give her special children these traits. If Marcus had acted instead of passively resisting no such tragedy would have befallen Little Prism. She saw now that it was the particularly biased view she had that saw all things as redeemable and basically of good nature that had caused it. She renewed her energies into the task that they had requested to ensure it would never happen again. Her mind returned to the events she had witnessed even as tears still filled her love dollies' eyes.

During that time many things went wrong in the village. Pipes that carried water from the ponds and dams that had been built a long way from the farms failed to provide the life-giving water to the crops and none knew how to make them work again. A dam burst and flooded acres of wheat ready for harvest. A disease ravaged the pig and poultry farms causing hundreds of animals to be put down. The machinery in the mills seized and could not be made to run again. Mines collapsed for no reason and the equipment used to bring up the special minerals, precious stones and the coal that was used for the smelters and to warm the homes failed.

Sunderson and his group were furious! They made threats and tortured members of the families of the Viendri that had left but they could not tell him where they had gone or what they were doing. A pall of gloom began to descend over the village as more and more of Sunderson's ilk began to find their way to Little Prism as they emerged among the now, very large population. A population that was too many for the resources of this relatively small part of the country. The more aggressive men and women began to encroach upon the peaceful folk that lived in the outlying districts. There were even reports of families being wiped out by men that claimed slight or aggressive action against themselves first. In the beginning no-one truly believed that the previous peaceful families had taken up arms against their neighbours but as Sunderson's council grew in power these rumblings declined.

Soon there were so many of this new breed of people that those that were originally of a peaceful and sharing nature began to fear for their own lives and began to move to the town proper expecting to find a healthier outlook. They were dismayed when the only work that was offered to them was work that would normally have been done by the Viendri. Others found themselves owing false debts to uncaring business owners that used them like slaves to work cleaning the streets, their homes and in many cases, servicing the sexual needs of the more affluent households. They cut and hauled timber, quarried stone and mixed the endless mortar for the homes that were being demanded by this richer, more self-absorbed generation. Those that did not like the new direction the town was heading and the lack of the special ones began to leave.

A chilling threat was posted on a pole in the middle of the town square. No-one had seen who put it there but it had to be Marcus or one of his brethren. The note told the villagers that they must concede their demands and to confess to the world that they had already betrayed the trust of the special ones before they had made their demands. The note was a reminder that it was not the Viendri that caused blood and death in the township and its outskirts. Nor was it they that forced daughters and mothers to sell their bodies for coin to eat and find shelter. It condemned the Council and its followers for allowing chaos to have its way.

That night one of the councillors was found hanging in his home. A note he had pinned to his chest told the rest of the village that he had forced one of the special girls to service him sexually. His letter told the villagers that what he had done was the reason that they had left! None could recall the woman he named in his confession. Sunderson used it as a further damaging case against Marcus and his group. Telling those around him that the man had been murdered by the cursed special ones and false accusations made against good and honest men. Still there was a great deal of finger pointing and blame. The village was almost in disarray as more things broke down and people began to leave. Barns burned down. Rooves leaked in the rains that had never had problems before. Trees fell down on houses narrowly avoiding killing the sleeping occupants.

The villagers decided that it was the special ones and were planning fearful revenge if they ever spotted one in the forests or the surrounds of the town. Very few that previously supported the special ones were game to voice their own concerns that Marcus and his group were right to leave because of the atrocities that were done to them. There were even whispers that Sunderson was lying, however, those whispers were soon quelled as dead bodies began to appear in burnt out homes and other disasters that Sunderson and his cronies blamed on Marcus and his group.

For Sunderson it was what he had planned. He was getting his cronies to stir up trouble in the town and districts. Each time a special one was reported he would offer rewards if they could be captured. None ever were, but he would question those that saw to get a description or a name of the person they saw. Based on this information or simply for his own amusement he would arrest one of the family of this supposedly seen outlaw as he called them now and have them tied to the same post in the square and have them whipped in front of the town's population. It was compulsory to attend such a public punishment.

He would stand on the balcony of the newly constructed council chambers that overlooked the square and read out false accusations about how they were the ones that actually perpetrated some form of sabotage to village assets costing the council hard won coins to have it repaired or of setting fires to destroy buildings and, his horror as he read the charges, of murder most foul if bodies were found in the burnt out remains. All of it was staged by his own men and those that were killed often rivals of his own or some of his councillors or were suspected of being sympathisers of the Viendri. It was a reign of terror all designed to bring about a confrontation with Marcus and his small group.

It was the death of family in their burnt out home that brought about the final confrontation between Sunderson and Marcus. The day after the family was discovered another note was posted telling those that were faithful to the Viendri and honest in their belief that Little Prism was being corrupted by Sunderson and his group would be met by Marcus and his group in two days' time, at dawn.

The whole village waited, standing silent and around the edge of the gigantic square that now made up the town's centre. No longer were the little craft shops and stalls for vegetables, fruit and the like present. It was all ripped down and the imposing council chamber took up half of one side. The other sides held so-called trading offices of many of the new businesspeople that held sway in the town. On one corner was an imposing bank and the other was a large and noisy public house.

The tall post stood in the middle. It was a symbol many began to believe was of evil and danger. Many walked many steps out of their way to avoid the black hardwood post. All eyes were staring at it as the sun rose.

Suddenly twenty-five of the Viendri appeared as if by magic, keen eyes noted that one of the older girls was missing along with several of the children that would have been no more than ten years old now. A portion of the crowd fell to their knees in penitence and fear. The majority did not as they raised fists and began to shout out that they wanted Marcus and his group punished. Soldiers, spread among the crowd, fisted swords or raised spears as if to rush forward and attack the small group. Mayor Sunderson stood on his balcony and imperiously looked down. He held a hand up in signal for his men to hold their places.

"We did not cause the deaths of the family that was found in their home!" Marcus thundered across the square and caused everyone to hold their ears and cease their cries. "We have never harmed anyone in this village or in the valleys. Never have we raised a hand in anger to anyone!" his voice filled the square and surrounds like thunder rolling off a mountain storm.

When everyone was quiet he raised his arms in supplication and turned in a circle to ensure that he captured the eyes of as many as he could that were standing up to twenty deep both inside and outside the massive square. He did not turn his head to look up at the scowling man standing on the balcony of the impressive council building.

"We are not here to be feared!" Marcus called out and everyone heard him though he had not shouted.

"We are your sons and daughters. We are not your gods."

"Is it you that has caused the problems for our village?" a man called out from the back of the crowd.

"No. We have been living peacefully and safely in homes we built for ourselves well away from the village. We would never do harm to this village or to anyone within it or living on the farms, at the mines and factories. We did nothing to deserve persecution of our families and friends. All of it has been the fault of that man!" Marcus raised his hand again and pointed it directly at Sunderson without even looking up at the man.

"He is not the only one that has blamed us for deeds that he and his followers have caused. Not the only one that has abused his powers and forced the Viendri to bend to his will. Where is Rasmus the Tally Keeper?" another called from within the group behind Marcus.

"Come forward, Rasmus. You should not hide behind your fellow villagers to hide your wretchedness," called out Marcus.

"No, you will strike me down!" Rasmus cried back.

"For what you have done I should draw and quarter you, Rasmus," came the same deep voice from among the gathered Viendri that had asked for the man. A tall young man walked forward and beside him stood a young woman who was not more than twenty-two or -three summers. Beside her walked a solemn faced young boy. He was only around four. The crowd gasped. The young boy bore the distinctive features of Rasmus' bright red hair and large nose. Rasmus was the town's tally keeper. He was the one that kept the records of the grains brought in by the farms, the carcasses of the cattle, sheep, etc brought into the markets. He was an important man and responsible, in many ways, for the wealth of the villagers that he paid for their resources.

"You forced my sister to spread her legs for you, Rasmus. Forced her to take you time after time as you threatened to short count our father's grain and pigs. She became filled with your child, Rasmus and yet you would not acknowledge her or your child. As it has been since time forgotten men like you have forced us to breed for you. Hoping to find another special one that you can use for your own purposes. To steal their knowledge of all things and use it for yourself," said the young man softly. Again all around heard him. "Always done when no strong Councillor lead the town, taking advantage of their weakness to cover up their actions. We have been tolerant and understand that sometimes lust overrides decency but no more!" the deep voice boomed across the square.

A scuffle broke out at the back of the crowd and two burly men brought Rasmus forward and threw the man at the feet of Marcus and the brother and sister. The two strong men bowed their heads to Marcus and then to the couple standing there with the child. Above them Sunderson hissed in displeasure as he realised that there were still some among the population that respected and revered the scum he wanted under his control. His hands clenched in anger on the railing in front of him.

Marcus ignored the man on the ground who, though he struggled madly, could not rise to his feet. Some power held him pinned to the ground and muted his open raging mouth.

"I asked you, Elder Sunderson for three promises. One to prevent the use of our bodies for the pleasure of others. Two to give us our privacy and three to keep us free and safe from harm from those that would hurt and use us for their own purposes. Did you think that I asked for these things because I feared that it would happen? No, Caleb, I asked because it was already happening. It had happened in the past and if you would not change the laws it would happen again in the future.

"In the times of Christopher, Meredith and others, including the venerable Ingrid we lived in peace and harmony with the rest of the village. They ensured swift retribution to any that abused us so that we did not succumb to violence and vengeance. They were honest men and women that understood what we were. We helped where we could. We built, we created and we helped everyone prosper equally.

"We demanded nothing but simple courtesy and the right to live our lives as everyone else did. It was a time of happiness, joy and people walked the streets and roads of our region without fear.

"The number of people in our valleys grew. Perhaps we grew too quickly and too many, I do not know, but the world began to be more crowded, too much was demanded of us to make things the way they were. Our numbers did not grow to reflect this changing world and we could not perform for the village as we had done before. Even now our numbers are very limited. There are not more than three score of us and we cannot service all that was being demanded of us.

"Then a change began to emerge among those that became our leaders. No longer were they content to let change occur as it would naturally. Council clerks began to demand payment from those that we helped, even for the simple act of repairing a pipe, a window or for the settlement of trivial disputes among the population. They began to charge outrageous amounts from good people because we, the Viendri, carried out some more difficult tasks for those that required us and needed our special talents. Telling them that the council bore the cost of providing for us. A lie. The Viendri have always bartered generously and peacefully for all that we needed.

"The changes were at first subtle and soft words spoken about ensuring that funds were available for future works and helping the civic tasks that are carried out by the councillors in arranging trade agreements and for storing our grain, vegetables, timber, metals including gold and silver for the merchants that came to buy our wares. It was, you told us, so that our small number would not be overwhelmed by the demands placed up us. It would pay for labourers and horses to haul grain, timber and metals. Our services would only be required when it was absolutely essential. Suddenly it was not enough to take a token amount from your goods to provide for these arrangements. Demands for payment became increasingly more ardent and in some cases the payment of gold or silver was not enough. We had never needed currency before. It was sufficient for tradespeople to trade their services for goods from the farmers and the producers. Now suddenly we had coins and markers on paper that showed debt and credit.

"Unscrupulous men and women used those ledgers to begin extracting payment of another sort. Daughters, sisters and wives found themselves trapped into providing sexual favours because of an alleged debt owed by their fathers, husbands or brothers. Unscrupulous men like Rasmus took it further and dared to make a child of the Viendri his sexual toy.

"You have all raged at the things that happened to your own normal children by men who were evil and intent on enslaving them. You feared that outsiders would come here and force you all into slavery and use you all for their sexual lusts. However, they were repelled by the force of the Prism through our forebears who protected the village. However, this breed of insolent and bullying men and women came from within our own population. There was nothing that the Prism could do to prevent them from arising to positions of power and influence. It was all of you," Marcus spread his hands and waved them around pointing at the crowd around him, "that voted them into council and gave them free reign to do as they pleased.

"You have allowed them to grow in numbers and powers to do to not just us but all of you what you had feared. It is obvious though that you have decided that because they are using us that we are beneath you and do not need your protection. How many of you are already finding that it was not just us that were being forced to be their slaves since we have been gone for the past five years?"

A deathly quiet came over the crowd as many of them heard of this for the first time. Those members that were the new power that Marcus was accusing did not flinch as they stared with hate at the young man and his group.

"How could you have let that happen, Caleb!?" yelled a woman almost hysterically. Her voice was quickly stifled by others that cried out that they had done nothing wrong and that Marcus was lying.

The wife of Rasmus was pushed forward and almost stumbled as hands thrust her unceremoniously towards the watching Viendri. Caleb Sunderson hissed in anger that there were even more among the crowd that was supporting this filth standing with heads lifted and fire in their eyes as they felt the crowd beginning to be swayed to their side and away from Sunderson and his councillors. He nodded his head down to the General of his guards and was pleased when he saw uniforms beginning to move towards the front of the crowd ready to beat them back should they want to surge forward and embrace the group. He also allowed a small smile to play across his lips as he saw some of his supporters beginning to move towards those that were outwardly showing support to the Viendri. He saw hard eyes and the glinting of several knives that were drawn from inside tunics and from belts. He knew that his jails would be full by the end of the night with these pathetic sympathisers. No matter how eloquently or passionately the boy spoke he had his plans and he would not fail to execute them no matter what this small band of rabblerousers might think.

The woman composed herself as she came slowly forward and stood in front of the boy and girl carefully shielding the child between them. "Please, Aaron, Beatrice I did not know. Can you please forgive me?" she pleaded.

"Did not know!" the girl spoke, with a voice dripping sarcasm, for the first time. "You watched as your pig of a husband raped me time after time. Telling me after he had left that it was for my own good. Telling me that I was of age and that my little cunt had to be used sometime and that by letting that man have me I was ensuring my future. It was only ensuring that the gold you should have paid my father was in your own pockets and that you and he could live richly. You laughed at my tears and told me to dry them else my parents would know how sluttily I spread my legs and enjoyed your husband's attentions.

"He," she pointed her fingers accusingly at the man, still struggling to rise, on the ground, "told me that he would not pay father unless I did what he demanded. I saw my father's happy face as he was paid his dues but I could not tell him how I ensured that he was paid. I could not tell him that he was not paid properly. I could not tell anyone. I could not tell him that the price of his goods was more than what he was paid because the market had changed and he was not told. The extra you took even as I lay sobbing on that bed and felt the life come to be inside my body.

"I knew that you were getting your own kind of perverse satisfaction as he used me. I saw your glee as he tired of my mouth and my cunt and used my arsehole to spill his seed. Go, you evil bitch, leave this village and do not come back!" the girl called Beatrice said in such cold disdain that many reported frost coming from her mouth and rolling down towards the woman who flinched backwards as the black ice rolled towards her. The woman got to her feet and ran screaming from the square. Her voice abruptly ended as she fell to the ground dead.

At Marcus' feet Rasmus sighed and moved no more.

"Forgive us, Ingrid," he said softly. They all disappeared as noiselessly as they came.

Sunderson screamed out for him to come back. "I know that you can hear me, Marcus. Know this, you devil spawned cunt. I have your parents, your brothers and sisters, your aunts, uncles and grandmothers in my control. My men guard them with knives ready to cut their throats or sword and spear ready to strike them down. If you do not come back to this town and do as you are told I will kill one each dawn at this post," he pointed at it from his lofty vantage point where he had watched the proceedings, "and leave their body there for all to see and hate you even more until you return to the barracks we have built so kindly for you and your filthy brethren. It is up to you, Marcus but I promise you that you will do as we, the citizens of Little Prism, demand, not as you see fit to do whenever you feel like it! If you do not then the filth that dare names itself Viendri will cease as every man, woman and child that was part of their birth will be killed and you and your kind will never be seen in these valleys again!"

Marcus knew that the man would do exactly as he threatened. He returned, alone, to stand by the post. He bowed his head. Much to the agonised sighs of those that were still faithful and respected the Viendri, they heard the young man tell Sunderson that the others were in the quarters that the Council had provided them. Sunderson crowed in delight as he ordered his men to shackle the young man to the post. Marcus' clothes were stripped from him and Sunderson called out, "For the years of damage and destruction you have caused with your foolish demands, Marcus you will receive ten lashes for each year that you have denied the town your services." A guard eagerly rushed forward and gave the whip master, a big man of muscle and bared chest to show the villagers how strong he was, a long-tailed leather whip. The man did not hesitate to step towards Marcus and raise his arm. Ten lashes later Marcus was screaming in pain and the blood flowed down his flayed back. Sunderson called for his guard to wait.

"You will no longer call yourselves Viendri, Marcus. For now you will wear the red clothing of those that are diseased and deranged so that all that see you will know that you are only alive because there is a useful task that you are doing for the council and the town. From this day forward you will be known as the Unclean!" the man roared with laughter as he nodded for his whip master to continue.

It is believed that Marcus used his powers to conceal the fact that the whip never touched his back and that the blood and flayed skin was an illusion created to satisfy the hideous appetite of Sunderson and his laughing cronies. After thirty lashes Marcus feigned unconsciousness but the whipping continued. His body was carried and dumped into the dirt outside the house that he had previously occupied with his parents. It was them that tended to him and told the others that he was severely injured. They suggested that he may not even survive. It was an unnecessary ruse for the Viendri who were already mentally communicating with their leader.

It began a nightmare period for the special ones. Each morning they were roused from their beds and made to dress in the red uniforms that they had been given. Chained and shackled they were led to the square by guards that leered at the women with their ill-fitting garments that showed their breasts and long legs. The guards even freely jammed fingers under those garments and inserted them into the girls pussies, and some of the boys, arseholes. They promised fucking and feeds of cock cream should they struggle or cry out at their attentions. By the time they were amassed in front of the gloating Sunderson they were broken in spirit and mortally afraid.

Sunderson read out a list of tasks for them to complete each day. He arbitrarily sent them off in groups with his guards to complete the tasks. Mostly it was for the special ones to use their telekinetic powers to move boulders, trees, repair roads and fix pipes and other machinery.

Seldom did a workday last less than ten or twelve hours. The young bodies exhausted both physically and mentally as they were forced to walk in bare feet for miles through the forests, to the mines and quarries and out to the farms. Never did the group return to their quarters without at least three or four of the pretty girls not having some orifice of their body subject to painful penetration by the cocks of the guards. Many of the males found themselves forced to their knees and made to suck cock as a way of humiliating them in front of the younger girls.

It was not just the guards, however, that exploited the special ones now that their protectors had passed on. Many of the self-proclaimed Lords that had arisen with Sunderson's blessing, requested the older girls for servants during the days. Much of their time spent naked with their legs spread and the lord and master using their beautiful bodies. Bodies that he encouraged his sons and their friends to use as well. Within a few years many of the girls were pregnant. Their children taken away and kept at the Lord's manors until they were of age to be tested for the presence of their special powers. Not one child that was tested showed any of the traits of its mother. All of them were dumped back at the barracks and shanties of the Unclean. Nine- and ten-year-old children that did not have a parent or sibling that they recognised. It was simply the kindness of the parents of special ones that took them in and shared their meagre rations.

They were confined to their barracks on pain of strict punishments should they be found wandering the village outside of the work hours that the new Council had set for them or away from the areas that they had been designated to work.

Despite the pleas of the Viendri and their parents to the being that they considered their creator, Ruthven, not to allow any more of the special ones to be born it was to no avail. Within twenty years there was another generation of special ones identified by Sunderson and his ever-vigilant servants. They were aware that the Viendri lived short lives, none of them had lived past the age of twenty-nine with the obvious exception being Rosanna. Though they tried to force the special ones to love and breed it did not make one scrap of difference to the age with which the women died. In fact it caused a higher than normal mortality rate at a younger age. Women who had been forced to give birth were gone by their mid twenties.

None of the males lived past the age of thirty or so. Sunderson did not care for them much and had in fact declared a public holiday when Marcus died. He hung his body on the post in the square and laughingly torched it himself. It was to no-one's surprise that the body was gone the next morning.

Christopher was grim as he watched Cassandra bow her head as she told him that there had been twenty generations of the special ones born since then. Timid, uninspired children born from parents of the same. For some reason the Prism had ensured that at least fifty or more of the children were present. It was conceded that the Prism had lost its powers and was simply producing enough Viendri to cater to the increased population. Faith in Ruthven, the Prism and the goal that they were to help the world reach for the stars almost forgotten.

"There is no drive in us anymore, Christopher. Oh we rant and we rave and plan fearful revenges but we no longer fight. We bow our heads and move slowly to where they want us to go and do the tasks we are assigned. Our biggest act of rebellion is to say that we do not know how to do things. We tell them that we have the knowledge but we do not have the skills."

"Is that what Sunderson was asking you this morning. To do something that he believes you know how to do but will not do it for him?" Christopher asked.

"He wants me to turn back history and time for his wife. She is near death and has very little time left. He believes that I can cure her. He thinks that I am the descendent of the healers that were so very good at finding herbs and creating medicines a long time ago. My forebears were very good at finding the way to make potions and powders from plants and minerals from the soil. However, I do not know how to do it. I have the memories of many others that could. I can see the plants, the ways to extract the materials necessary to make medicine but I do not have the skills to know whether it works or not. None of us do!" she wrung her hands in front of the bigger man.

"How can that be, Cassandra? All of the Viendri knew of the skills from those that came before. Most of them improved on those skills and became even better than those that taught them. How can you not access that knowledge and use your skills to do as they did?" Christopher asked in puzzlement.

"Something blocks us," Keefer spoke for the first time since Cassandra had begun to tell her tale of the history of the downtrodden Viendri. "I should know how to build the pumps and the gears that have become stuck and fused in the mills and the mines. I can see the pictures in my mind but I cannot see how they work or how I could fix them. I have been made to suck many a foreman's cock for my inability!" the young man spat bitterly.

"As I have been tied to Sunderson's bed and made to take his cock in my arse and cunny as his wife watches. He promises her that he will make me submit and perform the miracle he wants. I have sympathy for his wife who is not as evil as her husband but I just cannot find the way," Cassandra wept.

"Why would you help such evil men and women!?" Christopher exploded in anger. "Why have you not simply risen up and destroyed them all!? In my time I would have had demons marching the streets carrying the heads of those that dared hurt or kill others. Dragons would have burned down their homes and forced them to flee Little Prism for their lives. None such as those that you tell me rules my homelands would have ever been permitted to last a few years let alone centuries!"

"We cannot kill!" gasped Cassandra and Keefer in synchronised horror.

"You may not but I can!" growled Christopher even as he smiled evilly at the pair of them.

By mid-afternoon he had discussed his plans with Cassandra, Keefer and the rest of the Viendri. He saw some of them cringing as he called them by their ancient name and realised that he had to change his ways else he would not keep them on his side. He called them special ones even as he allowed two of the special children to rest in his arms as he sat in the meeting place that had once been the old pergola that he, Hag' Lor and Sorren had built to be able to sit and talk with the special ones.

He told them what he wanted them to do. Of the ten that he had seen being punished that morning he was pleased that they had not been truly harmed except for the mental anguish that they had endured as the guards that whipped them told them that should they disobey again it would be their parents that would be standing at the posts. He grinned as the round, full breasted woman he had seen bleeding from the cut of the whip showed him her perfect globes so that he could see that her smooth white flesh had not been touched. He was embarrassed as she left her tits out of her top for him to see even though he told her it was not necessary. When she told him that she spent most of her time naked when she was working for some of the townsfolk he looked at her with concern.

"I do not care if they see my body, Christopher. I do not even care when they make me put my mouth around their cocks or spread my legs for them to enter me. It is of no interest to me nor do I feel anything as they hump and pant over my body. I let my mind wander off to other things and simply let my body do as it seems they want. They have told me that I am a great fuck and a good cock sucker but I do not recall what my body has done. I simply let them do these things to me so that my sister, whom is younger than me, is not the one that has to take my place. She cannot shield her mind or forget what they do to her. For this I would take a blade in my hand and strike down those men and women that do it to her. I want revenge, Christopher but I know that my mind will not let my body commit such a heinous act. I cannot take another life. Not like you did when you struck down Sunderson with your throwing knife," she told him softly but passionately.

*

Christopher had been teleported to the meeting room with the rest of the special ones by Cassandra. After he had discussed his plan and thoughts with them she was the one that took him back to his horse.

"Christopher you must be careful when you return to the town proper," she warned him as he clucked for the horse to come to him. The animal walked slowly over to the big man and stood waiting with ears pricked as if listening to the two humans standing near his head.

"The General will be interested in where I have been, Cassandra?" he asked with a warm smile.

"General Lawrence is a cruel and particularly nasty man, Christopher. He was brother to Mayor Vincent that you struck down. Vincent Sunderson was the great, great grandson of Caleb. It is a dynasty rotten with corruption, greed and self-satisfaction. If it were not for the fact that the shield of the Prism contains him he would have taken his army of guards and us outside the walls and begin to conquer his neighbours. General Lawrence would have revelled in the rape and butchery that would have been part of such battles.

"He does not care which hole he thrusts his large cock and nor does he care whether they are of age or not. Those two girls that rested so peacefully in your arms this afternoon as you spoke of demons and dragons are next on his list of cunts to taste his cock. I have watched him several times as they are selected for duties to move rocks or dirt from the mines. It is the only work that they are capable of understanding properly. They do not know how to attend to houses where they would be forced to make tea, bake and serve to guests. To pour wine and carry the glasses on trays that keep their hands held as they walk naked among the guests that are free to feel them as it pleases them. Besides their tits do not exist above little bumps on their chests nor do they have rounded bottoms or cunts that can be made to weep their feminine juices for all to see," she finished bitterly.

"As of now, Cassandra neither you nor any of the special ones will ever have to do those sorts of things again. By this time tomorrow the town will be in ruins and those that seek to use the special ones will be banished forever. By the end of the week all of the outlying so-called Lords will be forced to move out.

"You are aware, Cassandra that the population of this place will be decimated and all of those things that have been built here over the centuries will either be destroyed or badly damaged. You and the others will need to dig deep within yourselves to find that knowledge and how to use it to repair your world," Christopher told her solemnly.

"You will be here to help us, Christopher?" she asked more than stated her hope that it would be true.

"I will be here to see things put to rights, Cassandra. Perhaps that will take some time. Perhaps even more than you have but I will not see the likes of Sunderson have any stake in this town. Me and my friends will ensure that none like that ever return," he promised her.

"But what about those that come from within, Christopher?" she asked him softly.

"Somehow they have defeated the principles of the Prism, Christopher. They have gone unnoticed until they came to power and their vicious natures have come to the fore. They care not for the great leaps forward that the talented minds before had created. They simply wanted to keep them working and to do the work that they declare is necessary. Then, these men and women," her normal soft tinkling voice become a harsh grating that Christopher found he did not like at all as she became quite angry again, "exploited our bodies for their own amusement and pleasure. They care not one whit that none of the special ones take no joy or even pleasure from what is being done to them. We are too timid to rebel, Christopher. You have started to poke the fires that I know are within us. Even I can feel the anger inside me but I do not like it. I have found a madness inside that wants to see them all destroyed and for me to be free, but, Christopher remember this threat did not come from outside our shielded home, it came from within!"

Christopher held her tightly to his chest as she sobbed hard against him. She was trying to be the brave little woman but he could see straight through her. She was as frightened as a mouse spotting the alley cats hunting in her domain.

*

Christopher took a slow journey back to the inn. As he let the horse walk he pondered all that he knew and had seen in his abnormally long life and his association with the town he loved passionately. He contemplated the things that Cassandra and the others had told him. How could they not know how to do the things their forebears, he corrected himself none of the special ones were direct descendants of a previous generation, had learnt and practised? Parents may produce children that were special ones, and could, due to their special genetic makeup, have another talented child many years after their first special child had passed on, it was rare, but it had happened. He laughed as he realised that he had fathered special children generations after his first wives had passed on but he was over a thousand years' old thanks to Mira and Ruthven.

He stilled his horse as he looked down from halfway down the track and noted the presence of red garbed figures moving around the square. He had hoped that those that he had met with today had already completed their daily tasks. As he saw some of them pushed and prodded by the guards he realised that they were all female. He sighed as he understood that some of them were not restricted to work only through the daylight for their cruel and ruthless masters.

He continued his reflection on the history as he had seen it. He was particularly keen on the story of Ingrid whom was the last great leader of his hometown. Under her the town had grown but he frowned, it had grown too big. Little Prism was never expected to have a population of more than two or three thousand people, maybe a few more but not the crowded masses he saw now. Ruthven and Mira's plans were to have the special ones grow up in Little Prism instilled with the values that would make them valuable teachers, inventors and leaders of the world outside. They had expected them to be distributed across the world and working towards making the populations healthy, in harmony with each other and the natural world. It would be then that the plans to build the ships that would let them out into the cosmos and see them join with the citizens that made up the Great Circle. With a small sigh of dissatisfaction he pushed his thoughts of what tomorrow may bring to the back of his mind.

As each generation came along the village realised that the new kids had the same skills as the previous ones. They became even more isolated but that did not worry the children. They appeared wherever they wanted. The masters were too keen to teach their craft and so the children continued to learn. Eventually the children were the ones that kept the village modern. They were the ones that put in water lines, made the roads better, stopped the little river from flooding the fields every year. They built dams, bridges and made life easier for everyone and yet they did not ask any more of the villages than to have a simple bed and food.

Then along came Ingrid, from whence she came none knew. She had stumbled into the village late one afternoon on a small pony that it seemed was only laden with the woman and her small bag of provisions and clothing. She was a woman of great power. Not like the special ones but she could talk people into doing things for her and for the town. Her method was to set interesting ideas up on a board that she had especially made for people to suggest improvements or to report problems that needed to be solved. Many of these ideas she presented to her followers, normal people and craftspeople that had only the interest of the town at heart. For much of the time she did not impose upon the Viendri, she simply told them of her ideas the same way as she would discuss it with the intelligent and creative people that worked without the telepathic, telekinetic or other special powers that the shy Viendri had.

She, like Christopher and Hag' Lor had done before her, was a person that the Viendri naturally gravitated towards. They developed a special bond, an almost telepathic joining, that let the Viendri know where she was and how she was feeling at any time. They flocked to her sides and willing sat with her and her consultants to thrash out ideas and solutions. It was with happy hearts that the Viendri travelled the known world, absorbed knowledge, strove to understand others and finally came back to the village to propose solutions to their problems.

Such a woman was wasted in simply having her little stall where she bartered flower arrangements, tinctures she made from crushed flower seeds and clean water with syrups she collected from the wild bees. Her knowledge and intelligence soon had her nominated for the council and she was elected in by an overwhelming majority. She applied her business skills to her new job as councillor.

It was a system that worked well and during her time the number of Viendri grew each year.

She led the village for, they say, two hundred years. Christopher smiled at the myth. Ingrid had in fact led the village for only one hundred and fifty years thanks to Ruthven's intervention. He loved the woman and was reluctant to let her pass from mortal life. His superior technology allowing him to slow her ageing but in the end even he could not prevent her passing. Much like Christopher himself, he knew that Mira kept him young and in good spirits. Each time she brought him home to her massive body he knew that she renewed his flesh, his blood and filled his body with her little microscopic machines that repaired him constantly. Her joyfulness as he sheathed his large cock into her artificial constructs' delicious pussies giving her immense pleasure that she did not want to give up just yet.

Christopher shook himself as he felt his big cock swelling in his loose legged riding trousers. He gave up a silent plea to Mira to bring him home for her special attention to that part of his anatomy after this mess was sorted. The little tickle and quiet giggle in his mind told him that she had heard and was impatient to have him home as well. He returned his thoughts to the deeds of Ingrid.

She was the one that stopped the segregation of the special ones from the rest of the village. They stayed in the homes of their parents. They worked in the village and continued to make the village strong and prosperous. In the end you would not have known if a child was special or not simply by seeing them in the streets. You had to see them using their brilliant and powerful minds and their skilful hands to get some idea that they might be something different to the rest of us.

Still, as much as she had influence over them, she could not get them interested in taking a partner and having progeny that could carry on their work. She was as saddened as the rest of the village when adults simply disappeared from the village and were either found dead in the forest or were never seen again. It was only because she had some secret sense of them that we knew that they had died. She would plant a new flower in the public gardens to mark the passing of another of her special children.

Ingrid was also known to be a very lusty woman with a voracious appetite for both men and women. They say that those that came to her bedroom pined for her to look favourably upon them and invite them back. She often did and even though she was unmarried she gave birth to eight children of her own. Any that dared to gossip about her lust were quickly shut down by the villagers themselves. It was well known that everyone in the village loved and wanted to spend at least a few hours in her bed. With so many lovers it is a wonder she got anything done. What they did not know was that Ingrid was loved by the being that many worshipped as a god, Ruthven. She would tell her council that she was taking a short holiday by herself and head off into the deep forests or hide herself in one of the many caves that dotted the mountain behind the town. In reality she would lose herself in the arms and bed of her lover, Ruthven as he plundered her wondrous cunt, arse and mouth for days in his hidden fortress. It was a love that rejuvenated and invigorated Ingrid. It was said that she returned from her mysterious breaks with more energy and laughter than she had shown in the months before she disappeared.

Of course, history and storytelling does tend to exaggerate with each telling.

It was said that somewhere in the journals she kept that she opened her mind to the special ones and never let her secrets be kept from them. The reason was that even she had realised that the special ones had not caught the fire in their bodies and minds to love others. She had hoped that by them seeing her experiences that she deliberately replayed in her mind when she gathered them to her home would spark them and set them off to find their own experiences. She had even told us that she, too, had freely offered her body to them. All of it to no avail, Christopher finished his recollection rather sadly.

*

Christopher was determined that the town of Little Prism would return to the days of Ingrid and those that came before her, including his beloved daughter Meredith who was the first to recognise and nurture the special ones. However, he would ensure that the explosion of the population would never get to such drastic numbers and allow unwanted violence and corruption to breed and fester. He would ensure that Mira and her special powers would be quick to identify such disease and have it cured as soon as it appeared.

As he unsaddled his horse and sent the stable boy for carrots and treats for the beast that he vigorously brushed and whispered thanks for the outing into its ears he felt the approach of General Lawrence. He hated the man for what Cassandra had told him he had done to her and others. Hated that he thought the two little ones he had held like he had held his own children were destined to have their bodies defiled by this arrogant man in short order. He did not wait for the man to open his mouth but stepped in close and drove his sharp dagger into the man's gut and held him tight to him as if he were a lover.

"You and your like are finished, Lawrence. Go to the pits knowing that by this time tomorrow this town will be burning for what you and your forebears have done to the Viendri!" Christopher hissed in the man's face before turning his dagger and pushing it upwards to slice into the man's heart.

He dropped the body behind the stables into a midden heap that serviced the inn. He found the backstairs up to his room and quickly divested himself of the shirt that was stained with the General's blood. He bathed in the cold water that had been left for him in a large jug and towelled his naked torso and face before he hunted in his bag for something suitable to wear for dinner. He was dismayed to think that the inn had let its finery deteriorate so much that it no longer had hot and cold running water as he had observed in the hovels of the Viendri. He could not help the smile on his lips though as he realised that the Viendri had kept much of their knowledge from the corrupt council despite all that they had been put through. No more, he growled to himself as he set off to find something to eat.

Randal greeted him as he entered the large and luxurious dining room. He indicated a table at the back of the room but Christopher told him that he would dine in the open air of the balcony. Randal's eyes opened in surprise that his obviously wealthy guest wished to dine in the coolness of the outside but then closed as the man's face turned sly as Christopher pressed two large silver pieces into the man's hand. A snap of fingers and a table was quickly placed on the unoccupied verandah and Randal asked his lordship what he wanted to eat.

Christopher ordered rare cooked steak, vegetables and gravy as well as a bottle of wine and a glass. Randal gave him an attempt at a friendly grin as he directed him to the doorway that was quickly shut behind him. The door may have been closed but its glass panels as well as the glass windows that made up the wall between him and those inside did not prevent any from observing him. He deliberately sat with his back to them to show that he was not at all worried about any of them attacking him from behind. He had enough blades and other weapons concealed in his garments and cloak to take out the entire crowd if he needed to. He grinned as he sipped his wine. Any who thought to come at him would soon realise that he had the advantage with the constricted space of the balcony and its drop to the ground below.

Christopher allowed himself a soft chuckle as he found himself in the same place as he had sat in the morning where the rising sun could warm him. It was cool but not so cool that he needed to pull his cloak around him. In fact the small breeze helped cool the ardour of his blood as he felt the battle lust begin to stir in the pit of his stomach. Already he had killed two beasts in the short time he had been here. Tomorrow he believed that possibly a thousand times that number may stain his armour with their blood. He did not think that he would lose any sleep over such a prospect.

His dinner was interrupted by the appearance of Cassandra at his elbow as the door behind him opened briefly and the raucous sounds of the patrons reached him for a moment. He turned his head and the beautiful girl was standing naked and smiling as she held another bottle of wine to replace the one he had already emptied with his meal.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"What I have been told is my duty tonight, Master," she said with a little bow as she placed the bottle on his table.

"That is!" he growled.

"To let Master observe and touch my body should he wish to do so," the girl almost giggled at him as she spread her legs to show her pussy and gave her shoulders a slight wiggle to make her tits bounce in front of his eyes.

"Well stop it, Cassandra. I am not interested in seeing or touching you," he growled again.

"You must, Christopher!" the girl pretended to laugh even as bent low to hiss in his ear. "The innkeeper and his lot are watching. If you do not touch me then they are certain to believe that you are a sympathiser of the Unclean and will attempt to murder you in your sleep! If not that then they will be afraid that I have displeased you and I will be subject to their punishment until the morning. If you touch me and then demand that I go and warm your bed then I will be spared any other duties tonight. You have instilled a great deal of fear in them with your size and the weapons that they know you have in your room. They also suspect that you have weapons concealed in your cloak and on your body even now. They have already checked your baggage and possessions. They did not steal anything but they know that you are a warrior. Perhaps a crony of the Mayor. They fear that he has employed you to get rid of some of those he does not feel are loyal. Please, Christopher touch me so that they can see!" she giggled again.

Christopher ran his hand up the smooth thigh of the girl as she spread her legs further for him to view her wet cunt. He sensed rather than saw the ruffle and movement of the curtains partially covering the inside of the windows behind him. Knowing that he had an audience made him more certain that Cassandra was telling the truth. Her presence was a test.

"Why are you wet, Cassandra?" he asked in puzzlement. None of the Viendri he knew had ever reacted sexually or at least willingly displayed sexual excitement to his eyes. Not even the males got erections despite the more ardent efforts by females over the centuries.

"If I do not let my body become excited, Christopher they will accuse me of rebelling against them. They are not aware that we can produce figments that are our likenesses to deceive them. Marcus knew that he had to keep some secrets of our powers when he gave them our history," the girl hissed as he let his big finger slide up the slit between her legs. He ensured that his big hand covered her dainty arse and his lips found the girl's swollen nipple. Cassandra trembled as he found her clit and gently rubbed it.

"So where are you, Cassandra?" he asked as he brought his other hand up to cup the big tit beside the one he was nursing on.

"I am already in your room watching you through these eyes," she giggled as Christopher let his thumb press between the girl's arse cheeks.

"Spread your arse for them to see," he murmured as he sucked her delicious tit.

Her hands moved and Christopher heard the faint guffaws through the walls as his thumb buried into the false girl's arsehole as his middle finger speared her wet pussy. The girl's hips began to undulate as he finger fucked her holes. The laughter behind him grew loud for a moment as he felt the warm air from the interior of the room wash over him as someone opened the door. Randal stood behind Cassandra.

"Perhaps his lordship would prefer some privacy to continue his play with the thing," he suggested in an oily, silky voice.

"Let me suck his cock, Master Innkeeper. I am sure that your guests will stay a little longer and buy more drink while they watch me perform," Cassandra said in a giggly voice that grated at Christopher's ears as the woman played her part as the broken and submissive Unclean.

"You will do whatever his lordship demands, thing!" the innkeeper hissed and his hand slapped Cassandra's arse cheek hard causing the girl's hips to jerk away and almost dislodged Christopher's deeply buried thumb but at the same time forcing his thick digit deep inside the tight wetness of her cunt. Cassandra gave a squeal of pain and a groan of pleasure in rapid succession.

"I will not perform like some trained dog, Randal!" Christopher barked as he used his digits buried in the girl's holes to pull her away from the reach of the innkeeper whose face showed uncertainty as Christopher turned his attention to him. He stared at the arrogant face of the man. "Have her taken to my room and ensure that the door is locked. I have no intentions of sharing her tonight. I will attend to her when I have finished my wine," he ordered softly.

"As you wish, my Lord," Randal sneered as Christopher pushed the girl away and almost into the arms of the innkeeper.

He flipped a coin to Randal. "Ensure she has something to eat. She will need her strength, as it has been a little time since I have ridden such a fine filly and I intend to ride her hard!"

*

"You must fuck me and fuck me well, Christopher," Cassandra informed him when he unlocked his door and walked into the room. The real Cassandra was sitting demurely in the chair a little way from the desk that had been provided in the room for those guests that wished to write in their journals or use the parchment neatly stacked on one side along with ink and quill to send missives or instructions out by the many messengers that the inn employed.

The figment was lying on the comfortable bed with her eyes shining brightly and her legs spread wide as she rubbed her pussy waiting for the man that was to be her master for the night.

"I will not, Cassandra. Even though she is not you I will not sully my mind by taking pleasure, even if it is simply a construction of your mind, from you," he grumbled as he sat in the small settee that was against the wall for the seating of guests to the occupant's room.

"You find me attractive, Christopher?" the girl asked in surprise.

"Of course you are!" the man shook his head in disbelief. All of the Viendri were the same. They had no sense of self nor understood how pleasing to the eye they were. Even a child born of less than handsome parents claimed a beauty that was a combination of the best features of his or her parents.

"Then please, I would be honoured if you took my likeness and made love to her. I have made her as flexible and as willing as I am able. She has done me well over the past few years that I have been selected for these services. I have felt the thrust of a man and have drunk from their hardened flesh but I have never felt any pleasure nor excitement from the acts. My mind shields me but my body reacts though I do not recall it. As I have told you before I have been told that I am a good and willing lover.

"I would like to watch you and her together. It will be an interesting thing to know. I have never been with her as she loves. I hide away in my secret place and only keep the little trickle of awareness to her mind to ensure that she is not killed by her master. Though to kill an Unclean is very much frowned upon even by our ruthless Mayor and his bunch of bullies. It has only happened once or twice but unfortunately each time it has been the real woman and not her figment."

"How does that happen?" Christopher asked as the girl on the bed arose and knelt at his feet to begin removing his boots. He sighed as he let her have her way. It seemed that there was something about this production of a copy of their bodies that did not allow the original to control everything that it did.

"When we are taken unexpectedly. It takes only a few minutes to call up our copies and have them in place whilst we disappear to safety. Sometime though we are pulled from our work and have no time to employ our deceptions. Many of us have felt the hand of the man or woman that slaps us down to our knees and forces our mouths to open and suck cock or under a pretty skirt and to lick and suck at the hairy cunt of a slovenly mistress.

"It is no good for the mistresses to take the males. No matter what they try they cannot get the boys to harden and so use their stiff flesh to satisfy them. Instead they force them down to their backs and sit their smelly cunts on their faces and force them to make them cum with their tongues and mouths. Much of it done as the mistress cruelly slaps their limp flesh and sacks of testicles. They may not be men that can stiffen but they have the same weakness to torture of their balls," Cassandra said in her soft voice. Christopher noted that the woman showed no emotion as she described these awful events.

The false Cassandra had his clothing removed from his body though he was quick to take his cloak and hang it from the pegs on the wall. The jacket was heavy with concealed thin and flexible blades. He hid not want her to cut herself on some of them that had poison infused along their sharp edges.

He stood passively beside the bed as the false Cassandra slurped his long cock into her hot mouth. As Christopher looked down into her pretty face and bright blue eyes he could not help but harden under her skilful oral ministrations. It had been too long since he had felt the mouth of a heated woman on his stiffness and his body trembled as the girl took him deeper into her mouth until his cock's length was buried into her throat.

"I have been told that both I and my double are very skilful cock suckers!" Cassandra gave a small giggle, her first show of any emotion since he had come into his room. "It is the first time I have watched myself do such a thing. How does she feel, Christopher?" the woman asked with a curiosity that the big man found was bringing up old memories of his children observing him, secretly, as he fucked his willing wives. He would be bombarded with questions from their curious minds as to why Mummy groaned like that when he rammed his big cock from above as she held her legs up so high? How does Mummy not break when you shove your cock so hard into her cunny from behind? Does Mummy like having her face covered in the white stuff that comes out of the end of your cock?

At the time he had thought it simply childish exploration and learning but as the years passed and they did not show any interest in their own bodies or the bodies of others and try to perform the acts that he openly allowed them to watch he despaired. They waned in their observations and questions. He had asked them why. Their reply that they had learnt enough was puzzling and then later very frustrating when he asked why they did not do it with others or with each other. "We do not see the point in such things, Daddy. We have so much to learn about other things in the world that it is not important to do what others already do so well and so regularly. We have no interest in doing such things. Besides, Joseph (or some other sibling's name) does more than enough to make up for us." He would smile as he thought of his other normal children that seemed to have the same lusty demeanour as he did. These were the replies he got from generation after generation of the special ones. He had given up asking long ago. Now it seemed that at least one of these beaten down and submissive women had some curiosity about the act.

"She feels very wonderful, Cassandra but she must not be the one to give all the pleasure," he grinned as the girl had moved closer to him and the woman on the bed greedily sucking his meat. He pulled his dick from her mouth much to her sighed annoyance. He laughed as he pulled her up to her feet and slid behind her to lie full length on the bed. "Come, woman lay upon me and continue your feast but show me your wet cunny so that I may enjoy dessert as well!" he grinned as the woman at first did not seem to know what he asked of her.

"Get your cunt here, Missy!" he loudly whispered as he poked out his tongue and touched his lips. "Your mouth back here!" he ordered as he grabbed his still enormous erection and waved it at the naked woman.

Still unsure the woman clambered over his naked body. Her mouth soon found his cock but her legs did not move with any confidence as she straddled his broad chest. Her little yip of surprise as Christopher spread her wider and pulled her hips down to his face made the man chuckle. His sigh of satisfaction as he licked up the full length of her sodden slit and made her try to buck off his face as his tongue touched her clit causing Cassandra to gasp in surprise.

"She cannot take all of your cock, Christopher, she is too short!" Cassandra whispered as if the lack of cock in the girl's mouth was an affront.

"We will manage, Cassandra. Just watch," he grinned at her from between the slim thighs as he made a great show of opening his mouth and devouring the tasty pussy in front of his eyes. His hips flexed as his body curled slightly to let his prick slide halfway into the panting girl's mouth. "Suck, Missy!" he called into her wet cunt. The mouth sucked vigorously as his tongue delved into the hot entrance causing the woman to groan around his flesh in her mouth.

Cassandra giggled and clapped her hands like a small child as she pulled the chair closer to the bed and watched her double and the big man as they groaned, moaned and begged each other for more. Her double had given up trying to coax the sperm from the large balls that she had been handling gently with her dainty hands and instead had obeyed his demand to get her tasty cunt even more open for his to eat. She was on her knees above his face and looking into his bright blue eyes as his long tongue fucked into her wet pussy as easily as any of the cocks that Cassandra knew had fucked her over and over.

"I have never been fucked by a man's tongue before, Master," the woman squirming above him cried out in bliss as she declared she was cumming over and over.

"Is this true, Cassandra?" Christopher asked as he used his hands to still the woman's hips and give her spasming pussy a little chance to recover from his relentless attack.

"I never let any of my copies remember, Christopher. Just as my mind never lets me remember what has been done to my body. Should I have let her?" she asked softly.

"Perhaps not," he conceded softly. He was sure that none of the bastards that wanted to use Cassandra, either unknowingly with her figment or the girl herself, would bother to ensure that the girl was pleasured properly. He was certain that no tongue had ever tasted the sweetness of Cassandra's heavenly cunt.

"I shall let her remember this night, Christopher," the girl said softly, almost to herself.

By the time Christopher had drained his big balls deep into the willing arsehole of the woman that was crying, almost too loudly, in bliss as he fucked her hard and deep, Cassandra was wide-eyed and eagerly watching their every move. She had purred as Christopher had spread her legs wide and easily opened her tight pussy with his rampant meat. Her hips bucking back hard against his as he drove into her relentlessly despite her cries of cumming too much and that she was dying. She had almost eagerly shook her delicious rump at him as he told her that he was going to fuck her little arse to ensure that she experienced all the pleasure that he could give her. As the copy slumped beneath him and fell into a swoon of pleasure he thought that the girl herself was going to ask him to fuck her as well.

He turned the copy over her and lifted her ankles high to show the mess of open pussy and arsehole that was covered in his cream and still dribbled it from where he had spurted deep inside. Her bright eyes were half closed in pleasure as she waited to see what he would further require of her. Cassandra, it seemed, held her breath as she watched and wondered what this fantastic man of legend was up to next. Her mouth had opened in surprise and had panted in suspense before crying out in joy as Christopher leaned down and placed her ankles over his back as he let his long tongue come out to taste the girl as she began to moan with pleasure at his unexpected move.

He had thought that Cassandra might have liked to experience his hot mouth on her wet cunny as he spread her double's legs wide and dived between them to lick and suck at the combination of juices between them. He could feel the heat off the naked girl as she sat close to the bed and watched her double buck and moan in great pleasure. He had made a great deal of noise and smacked his lips in pleasure as if eating a fine meal as he slurped at the well open trench. He had felt Cassandra get on the bed beside him and had lifted himself up to stare at her. She had surprised him by sliding her head under his chest and opening her mouth to let her tongue come out and taste the feast he had been having.

After a few minutes the girl had lifted her face and gave Christopher a questioning look. "It is a lovely taste this combination of her womanly fluids and your own spend but not one that I believe any other male has tasted from me or any of the others. Why do you enjoy it so?" she had asked in a voice filled with wonder but not of excitement as Christopher would have hoped.

"Because it is the essence of life, Cassandra. It is the combination that given the right time and circumstances can create a life within the trembling womb that has been so deliciously stimulated and bathed in the heated fluids from my own body and hers," he had answered as eloquently as he could. He was very much aware that the real Cassandra was naked and almost beneath his own naked body. Despite the force of his ejaculate into her double his cock was rising rapidly and ready for more. As Cassandra nodded and went back to her feast he could almost feel her hot arse against his groin and entertained thoughts that she would position herself to let his big cock slide upwards and into her pussy. He cursed himself internally, to do so would make him no better than those that had used her before.

It was as if she read his mind. "Feel my cunt, Christopher," her mental command came to him as she continued to lick the moaning woman's pussy. His fingers slid down to her lightly furred box. He slid and finger between her tightly closed flaps. "I am not the least excited about what you have been doing with my copy. It is a flaw in our makeup, Christopher. Despite the joy I have felt from her, the cries as she orgasms for you and over your wondrous cock, I feel nothing."

He rose and let her slide back from between the woman's legs and resume her seat on the chair. The pair of them stared at each other.

"I have tasted her and you together, Christopher. There was much that I learnt but only so far as to understand more about her body and yours. I still do not understand why you would do such a thing for her and why she would enjoy it so much. I think I would want it to be done to me but not if I am aware," she said in her soft monotone. All trace of wonder and excitement leaving her voice.

Christopher almost savagely turned the naked body over in his grasp and slid his hot cock deep into the cunt of the wailing woman that cried out for him to fuck her harder and deeper. Cassandra was gone. She had told him that she had nothing more to learn by observing or touching.

He accompanied the tired woman down to the dining room and demanded that Randal feed him and his companion. He ensured that Randal got a good look at Cassandra's open and abused arsehole that still dripped his sperm, saw the streaks of white that marked her pussy and down her thighs as well as across her face and into her hair. "She will sit on the verandah with me and show the world that she entertained her master well before finding her red rags and travel back to her hovel," Christopher imperiously demanded as he pushed the girl out through the open door as soon as he saw Randal head off to obey his request for breakfast.

Three hours later Randal screamed for mercy as the gigantic dragon opened its maw and burned the inn to the ground with flames of white heat that saw the expensive windows shatter and splinter in all directions as Christopher and his nightmarish army began the Unclean Rebellion.

*****

Chapter four - Search.

By the time Christopher had banished or killed those that had sought to make the Viendri their slaves forever, only two thousand people survived. Many had been swept up and banished by Mira and her teleporters. Dumped on islands and inhospitable lands where aggressive native tribes lived and did not like intruders in their territories.

The imperious council chambers, the bank and the other buildings that had lined the square that had been built to show the peasants that Little Prism was a town of wealth and that those buildings held the power of life and death over them was a flattened rubble.

The only token resistance had come from the guards that had tried to stand in the square and in the streets around it. They boiled in their copper, bronze and steel armour as heat from the mouths of fifty angry dragons covered them in flame. Christopher had gotten Keefer to levitate the shit covered body of the General from behind the Inn and flung it down in front of the line of soldiers that faced him. "This is your leader!" he had roared from atop the back of the big silver beast that Cassandra had conjured up for him. "Killed by my own hand as I did to his brother the cowardly Councillor Vincent Sunderson. None of them shall ever dwell in my town again. Stand against me and you will join his lifeless course. Run and I may let you leave the valleys never to return again."

Most had chosen to fight. Their belief that they had controlled a town of ten thousand with their armour, weapons and bullying ways would take down the man on his dragon no matter how powerful he thought himself to be. They steadied their spears and awaited his attack. When he had stepped forward from the street that led to the Unclean's hovels they had laughed and shouted. They had begun to move forward. No threat that had any substance would come from the weak and cowed residents of that quarter.

Christopher observed that there were not many citizens in the throngs that faced him that did not show some form of insignia on their clothing that told him that they were part of the forces that the council had gathered to keep their population under control. It was then that he realised how rife and far spread the corruption of its citizens had gone. It seemed that very few of them wanted to give up their power without a fight. He sighed. It was going to be a long and bloody battle to route the town of its evilness that had been allowed to grow and fester for over two centuries.

When red, green, yellow and blue bodies began to emerge from behind the silver beast and his rider their advance paused. When the dragons roared and spat flames taller than several men they screamed as their bodies began to heat up. As the flames roared in amongst their number they began to panic and try to flee. Those at the front could not retreat as the ones from the back took up the cry to attack and blundered into the backs of those who were witnessing the destruction of their fellow soldiers. A great number of the army perished in the first few hours of fighting however, their leaders as they often do, were placed at the back of the forces so as to observe and marshal their forces. These men continued to rally their troops and tried to fight back in the mistaken belief that the Unclean could not continue to attack against well armed and trained men. They made the mistake of underestimating the hatred, anger and the intense fear inside those that rode the conjured dragons of being trapped and forced into slavery once again.

It was a shambles and Christopher almost felt pity but then the thoughts of the pain and death of the Viendri came to his mind from the riders to the left and right of him. They were reminders of the deaths of parents, siblings, family of those that rode their great beasts conjured from the very elements that surrounded them. Christopher let his mount have its head as it too remembered the atrocities carried out in the name of the council for the good of its citizens who stood by and did nothing to stop it. In fact, Christopher heard many of those citizens that did not wear full military regalia curse him with their dying breaths for taking away their rights to use others for their own gains. He swore in disbelief as he saw one man use a child as a shield as he fought against several of the red clothed golems that ran with the dragons cursing as he struck each one down that he would never give up his right to fuck whoever he wanted to. The girl disappeared from his clasp around her chest and his eyes went wide in surprise as one of Christopher's throwing knives hit his suddenly unprotected chest and buried itself in his rotten heart.

The rebellion lasted ten days as the dragons burned their way through the town and met strong resistance in every street. It did not all go his way. Five of the special ones had been forced from their mounts and slain in a frenzy of knives, swords, fists and boots. The dragons dissolving into thin air as they died. It had given the military leaders hope and they encouraged their men and women to attack the riders despite the flames that sprayed among them and cut them down like wheat beneath a scythe. It had taken an extraordinary effort by Cassandra to keep her brethren fighting as she flittered from dragon to dragon spreading words of courage and hope. She took Christopher's instructions to overlap their flames so that they closed any gaps that would allow spearmen to get in between the dragons and target their riders.

Keefer was with her as he helped the others that controlled the golems that continued to march forward in line with the dragons to ensure that none tried to sneak between them and come at the younger riders from behind. He could feel Keefer's anger and rage, that had threatened to explode in the meeting with him on the mountainside, bursting out of the young man as he screamed to organise his young and fearful charges to maintain their golems' forward surge and to fight for their lives. He kept screaming at them to remember their brothers, their sisters and parents that had died for them. Christopher almost sobbed on his mount as he listened with both his mind and his ears. It kept him focused on the battle and he closed his heart to the scenes of bloodshed and burnt bodies and buildings.

Christopher sighed as he lay in his camp cot and listened to the jingle of armoured beasts stalking the area on guard for any attack through the night. He knew that good and courageous men had died in the fighting but they fought for the wrong side. Each time he came upon men and women armed with swords and spears he called out for them to leave their weapons and surrender to his forces. He promised those of true heart and mind, sanctuary. Some came to him in the night having begged admittance past the ever-vigilant beasts and their riders. He knew that only those that Mira had scanned and passed would be permitted to enter the temporary camps. All others were warned off and sent packing with flames scorching the air above their heads as they ran.

Some tried to come to his forces during the days. They would drop their weapons and attempt to break from the crowds that yelled and screamed abuse as they saw the red clad bodies atop the dragons. Christopher watched impassively as many of them were cut down by the maddened crowd as they tried to come to him. Very few made it. He decided that those that cut down their own were not worth saving. Not even for the world outside Little Prism. He let his silver beast decimate them with its white-hot breath.

At last it was over and none of the lords, councillors, military and business leaders were left. They had either died in the fighting or had been exiled by Mira's teleporter traps to lands unknown and distant. He gathered the dragons and their riders together in a great circle and addressed them all. It caused a few smirks on the faces of the youngsters that he was talking to the dragons as if they were truly alive as he thanked them for their service and for their strength. He bid them a long and peaceful life and hoped that he would never have to call on them again. Lifting his arms in praise in pointed skywards and told the dragons that they were free to go. The youngsters were gobsmacked when forty-five colourful and large bodies bowed low to the giant of a man that stood in the middle of them before leaping skywards.

When the dragons flew off to the top of the mountains Christopher asked Keefer to leave two of them to guard over the township. "You know that they are not real dragons, Christopher?" the young man asked him earnestly and in deep awe of what he had just witnessed.

"They are of the elements that are in harmony inside our Prism shield, Keefer. They belong here and they have helped us undo a great wrong. To have a pair stay will be a reminder to all of us what we are capable of and what we can do. Have them fly across the sky at dusk so that people can look up and see their magnificent shadows and remember that we are protected not just by the Prism and its shield but also by the powerful minds that live within its boundaries," Christopher replied.

"They shall not make the flame that kills and destroys, Christopher. Only your command made them carry out those acts. None of their riders were capable of doing such things. They simply rode the beasts to show the people who were fighting them. Their minds were concentrating on making them remember the years of abuse and cruelty that they had perpetrated upon us. It was those thoughts that maintained your anger and rage, Christopher. If not for you we would have lost and been killed by them!" the young man told the big man staring around at the still smouldering piles of timber, stone and glass that had been brought down by those flames he had commanded.

"It will be enough, Keefer to simply watch them fly high above us. The dragon shall become a symbol for all of us to remember. Just as the Prism is a symbol for all of us to feel safe."

The young man nodded his head and then raised his hands to the sky. Christopher smiled as his big silver beast and a very bright blue one began to circle each other in the sky high above them. The rest vanished as mysteriously as they had come. He grinned as he heard the two roar in happiness as they sailed over the valleys and headed towards the second tallest mountain in the range. He wondered to himself what Mira and Ruthven would think of his two companions that would find a cave to roost in on the side of the mountain and look over his massive spacecraft that was their new neighbour.

***

For fifty years Christopher and his wives nurtured and lead the new village of Little Prism. His wives were beautiful creatures that came to him on the back of three black stallions. Behind them trailed a herd of females of various colours and sizes. The women had told Christopher, as he came to meet them among the piles of debris that were being diligently cleaned up and repurposed for other projects every day, that they were a gift from Ruthven so as to aid the rebuilding of the village and to give those that were left transport back to the abandoned lands around them.

If Christopher had made one mistake in his tactics against the Lords was that he had let too many of them take the horses as they left his lands forever. It had not been until the fourth or fifth lord that he had confronted that it had been pointed out that such a valuable commodity had been taken. By the time they had got to the Lord Dickson, Christopher had ensured that all the horses and livestock was safely away from the Lord's reach.

The horses were much welcomed by the citizens working tirelessly to rebuild their village. The women, it seemed, had eyes only for the tall, muscular man that worked just as hard beside them. At the end of the first day that they arrived Ruthven had another surprise for the working crews. A feast of venison, boar, beef, fish and fowl along with vegetables, salads and fruit attracted the big crowd to the northern end of the village where the special ones lived. Tables laden with the food and breads called the weary workers and when the special ones began to play their instruments and sing the praises of the workers it soothed many a hurt and many a sorrowful heart as they looked upon the destruction left over from the short but bloody battle.

Small campfires were surrounded by the remaining families and their friends as the red clad men and women wandered in and around them delivering extra food and ensuring that people had blankets and were warm. The villagers could not believe such generosity from the young men and women that had toiled just as hard beside them.

Christopher stood to address them all. Around two thousand eyes looked to him as the gloom of dusk began to deepen into night.

"My friends. Tonight we feast with Ruthven's blessing and love. Tomorrow we will truly begin to rebuild our town. A town that is not pompous and full of false grandeur. It will be our town. The one that was before with its simple buildings and the little square where we mingled and talked with our neighbours and shared the things we grew and made for the joy of being able to provide something of ourselves to our friends.

"We will not let ourselves be blinded by garish buildings that serve nothing but a reminder of the men that owned them of how much power they had. We will not reduce ourselves to living in huts and hovels but we shall build strong homes that keep us in comfort and feel warm when our friends and neighbours visit.

"Our shops will provide us with the things we need not those that make us feel powerful and wealthy with their silver chains and golden gleam. It will be for special things that we wear rings on our fingers and in our ears. The stones that come from the blessed earth will be for artists to make into things beautiful to our eyes and not for some greedy lord to hide in their lavish house and simply shown to prove how wealthy and powerful they are.

"I beg of all of you to look into yourselves and find that simple spirit again."

"Get rid of that accursed post, Christopher!" cried a voice from the darkness. Many others soon took up the same call though not in the same pleading words. It was called everything from the demon's cock to a fucking abomination to the eye and heart.

"It has already gone," Cassandra spoke up as the crowd hushed as Christopher waved his hands for quiet. "It was the first thing our great silver dragon tore from the ground with his great claws and tuned to powder with his mighty breath. I cheered as it crumbled in his mighty fist and hugged myself in delight that my blood would never stain its surface again."

Her words were met with a deep silence. Her beautiful face was seen by all of them as Christopher moved to stand behind her and embraced her gently.

"No blood shall ever be spilt in these valleys ever again, my lady. At least not by me or my family except by accident. I shall never raise my hand against another ever again!" A forlorn voice called across the silence.

"Same here!" came from multiple sources and Christopher felt Cassandra tremble in his arms as she heard the pledges from all around here.

"Then tomorrow," she called out from within Christopher's arms, "the Unclean will show you all what we can really do!"

The declaration was met with tentative cheers but Christopher smiled.

A voice passionately cried out from among the murmurs. "No, Cassandra! Never shall I, my family or my friends, call you unclean. You are the truly special ones and from now on I propose that we all call you and your friend that from now on!"

The man's declaration was met with raucous cheers, hoots and loud yelling of affirmation. The chant of "Special Ones! Special Ones!" split the silence of the night.

In his arms he felt Cassandra sob and he held her even tighter as he smiled in delight. He, alone of the villagers, knew exactly what the special ones were capable of and he looked forward to the morning with excitement.

*

As the sun rose to its zenith the crowd of villagers stood in awe as they viewed their new town square. It had only been the work of a month to create the cobblestoned square with its spoke of streets heading to the points of the compass and surrounded by a myriad of shops, stalls and offices.

The villagers had watched in awe as great mounds of rubble lifted from the ground and was deposited in the big open areas behind where the Unclean, now the Special Ones, hovels still stood. Timber, windows unscathed by some miracle, doors, bricks, stone blocks and many other parts of buildings were separated out and placed in piles awaiting further work.

Timber was scraped and sanded by unseen hands as tools appeared from thin air and the hands of master craftspeople manipulated them to various sizes and thicknesses.

The clearing went on and on as the entire town was cleansed of burnt-out rubble, piles of stone and broken tiles. Dangerous glass seem to bundle itself up and place itself into furnaces that melted it down and was reproduced as windows, light fittings and sundry other building fixtures. All of it being stored in neatly separated piles by the seemingly inactive special ones that frowned in concentration as the only outward signs that they were working.

Christopher called for all of those folk that had previously worked the land to gather to him. It was only a matter of hours before he had the families back to the areas that they knew well. They did not care for the lavish manors and barracks that the old Lords had built. They wanted them torn down and relocated to where their traditional homesteads had once stood. Many of them now ruins from battles that were fought of neighbour against neighbour, family against family. Many wept in joy as they declared that they would have their vegetable gardens and their fields of grain back in even better shape if Christopher and the special ones could spare them some time from rebuilding the town.

Christopher made promises that sometimes he had to make apologies for but made up with bringing labourers and horses to help the new farmers begin their long journey back. He rounded up cattle, sheep, pigs, goats and fowl that he distributed to the farmers that preferred livestock to grain. He brought materials to rebuild barns, sheds and pens. He gave all he could when he could and the people that saw him smiled and waved as he almost singlehandedly took on the mammoth task of rebuilding his homeland.

He took those that had worked the mines, the mills and the factories that produced glass, tiles and other products back to the sites and the ruined homes.

He very soon found that he was running out of people.

Each night his dwindling group of villagers gathered around him and continued to enjoy the feasts that Ruthven and the newly established farmers were sending into the town.

"Christopher you must take a break," called one of the older residents that Christopher had seen was a natural foreman for the working groups that toiled where the special ones had not yet been.

"I will rest when the work is done, Franklin," he had replied tiredly.

"No, Christopher!" the man had belligerently replied. "You will be dead at the rate you push yourself and then who will be our councillor!"

"Take some time to fuck your wives, Christopher!" admonished another middle-aged woman, called Agatha, that sat at a nearby fire. "They have been letting their skirts get shorter and their tits fall out all over the place wanting you to see them! If not for Natasha they would be spreading their delightful legs and showing all of us their weeping pussies! Adrian can lead for a few days while you take care of those desperate girls!

"For goodness sakes, man we are aware of all your plans. Haven't we sat with you and drawn the places where we want to build our businesses, our homes, the places where the children can play and be safe. We know where we must make way for things that will be needed in the future and to let us grow when more people are born or come to us. You and Adrian spend so much time with your plans and teaching us why and how. Leave us and go and take care of those beautiful women!

"Take them and make them sigh and cry out in the night. Give them nights of pleasure as a reward for them watching you work like a slave. They deserve it for their patience. Besides I am tired of seeing their youthful tits and wet pink pussies because they are in heat. Take them up to the caves and let their voices echo throughout the valleys so that all of know that you are being a man and loving them properly."

"Go!" called out many in the crowd as Christopher stood red faced and embarrassed in their midst.

He had no time to consider as he found himself in Ruthven's false cavern with its warming fire and fur skinned bed. Lying naked and bright-eyed watching him were his three dark haired wives. Their eyes sparkled like green cat's eyes as they stared at his naked form.

"Come, master fuck us long and hard," called Sophia.

"Come, my husband. Open my legs wide and do with me as you please," cooed Sandra.

"Get over here and eat my burning cunt, Christopher I have waited fucking long enough!" demanded the last of the three sisters, Theresa.

*

"They were worth the effort to find, Christopher," Ruthven chuckled as he looked upon the three naked women spread across the soft furs that they lay upon. Their bodies were smeared with their own juices and the powerful spurts of cock cream that their husband covered their bodies with. They had fucked until they could not take more of the rampant cock that plundered their tender cunts or sensitive arses. Their jaws ached from the sucking of cock and eating of each other as Christopher spent his time giving them his rampant muscle until they called out that they needed a rest. Ruthven clapped his young charge on the shoulder in delight. "You fuck like an old bull, Christopher!" he beamed.

"Where did you find them and those magnificent horses?" Christopher asked as he poured beer into the big mugs that Ruthven favoured.

"From an upstart Arab prince that believed that all the women in his vicinity deserved to taste his pitiful cock before they would be suitable for others. He was a mean little cunt and I took great joy in taking many a virgin from him and blessing them with the fruit of my own balls. Several of them are still waiting in my bed for me to return. The rest begged me to send them to men of a much better stature or back to the men that they loved before he took them by force in the night. Those have returned to their lovers without memory of anything that happened here. They told me that they had no love for a man whose cock was less than the palm of their own dainty hands!" he laughed as he sat by the fire and pretended to warm himself. Christopher knew that Ruthven felt neither the bitter cold of winter nor the cloying heat of summer.

"The horses?" insisted Christopher.

"He also liked to breed a very special kind of horse built for speed and hard work. I liberated three of his stud horses and the girls followed them eagerly. I sent them to you and the village as a gift after Mira told me that she had let those greedy bastards take too many of them with them when you banished them," Ruthven said jovially.

"How many more of your gifts will we need before we are ready to stand on our own two feet, Ruthven?" Christopher asked solemnly.

"As many as is needed, Christopher. You have rescued my plans with your bold moves and though you feel aggrieved about so much death, I assure you that you have been a blessing to those that are left and those that will come. Men and women such as you destroyed were nonredeemable. They would never have bowed to one such as you and become honourable. Their need to dominate and enslave was too strong. Beings such as that do not exist in the Great Circle. Such blackness is an affront to the harmony of the cosmos and needs to be weeded out like the poison prickles from a farmer's field."

"When will the killing end, Ruthven?"

"Until every person on this planet understands the value of life, love and the respect of each to pursue those things without control or prejudice from any other. It is a lofty goal, Christopher but this world is not the first that has been through the birthing pangs to enlightenment. It is a long-term destination but, like my search for your playmates, one that in the end pays rewards greater than the effort of the search."

"I think, Ruthven, that my efforts will soon come to an end. I have been on this planet for nearly twenty times the span of a normal man. I know that Mira prolongs my life but this time with the village in its time of rebuilding and consolidation has to be my last. Promise me this, Ruthven and I will ensure that your special ones thrive and will continue to thrive long after I have gone."

"Then I must continue to search, Christopher. Continue to find men and women as strong and as compassionate as you and bring them through the Prism. I promise, my dear friend, that I will keep bringing those that will make a difference to not just the town but to the special ones as well."

The two big man clasped wrists and stood chest to chest as Ruthven nodded reluctantly to agree to his young charges request. In her life preserving cubical Mira stomped her foot. "Like hell he will be allowed to leave me," she thought to herself. "If he does not want to walk upon the Earth again then that is fine but I shall never let his special mind and essence disappear from this world that so sorely needs the likes of him."

*

Christopher took a lot of good-natured ribbing from his neighbours and friends when he returned after his two-week enforced holiday. He chuckled and his wives blushed redly as they were told of the howls of pleasure and the squeals of bliss that echoed around the valley. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" was even taken up as calls from various birds that mimicked sounds that they heard frequently in their environs.

"Are you pregnant, Theresa?" asked Agatha with a shrewd grin as she stared at the youngest of the sisters, "Or did he spend so much time eating your burning cunt that he did not ram his cock inside that needy pussy enough times?"

The young girl tried to hide behind her husband even as those around them laughed loudly.

"You can't talk, Aggie, young Kevin can hardly keep his tongue in his head now that you are riding his face like a jockey on a horse. Has the fire gone out down there yet!?" called one of the younger girls that stood watching the children dance around the tables being set up for the feast for the return of their leader.

"Kevvie puts my fire out quite nicely, Judith. When are you going to find someone to fill your tight little gap?" the woman cheekily joshed back.

"When you have a few more sons and even up the number of girls and boys, Agatha!" the girl grumpily replied.

"Kevvie has big balls, Judy!" the older woman replied with a wide grin.

It was a conversation that Christopher and his constant companion, Cassandra heard many more times around the village as the buildings arose with the help of the special ones and the small team of carpenters, roofers and stone masons that travelled around with them. Young girls looked with envy upon couples that were paired by marriage or had been together for a long time. Cassandra would mentally tell Christopher of couples and singles that had interests in the single girl or girls or even other couples. He even grinned as older married couples looked with lust upon some of the younger males that seemed to find the attention of the unattached females a little embarrassing. He smiled as he remembered his own early days with the women that came to him after he had saved the village from the wolves and cats. His adaptability to have multiple wives something that gave a big example to others within the much decimated township that needed to boost its population again.

It did not take the big man long to convince the interested parties to make arrangements to try cohabiting and copulating together. He pointed to his own wives and their happiness as they shared a house with him and his best friend, Adrian whose wife, Natasha, had become so friendly with the sisters as they waited patiently for Christopher to turn his attention to them. It was even more relevant as the bellies of those beautiful girls and Natasha's began to swell in declaration that they were having their leaders' children. The women declared that they did not care whose seed had filled them.

At last Christopher decided that his town was stable and well and truly alive.

*

Mira smiled as young girls traipsed past the older man sitting in the shade of his favourite tree and cheekily showed a leg or let their full breasts shimmer delightfully in front of him. Some of them even boldly came and sat in his lap and kissed him. "Thank you, Christopher for giving us this wonderful town," one whispered in his ear. "Will you fuck me so that I will always remember you?" she asked as she let her skirt slide higher to show her soft pink pussy with its tidily trimmed covering of curls.

The older man would smile and politely decline, telling the young nymphet that he was too old for her now. They would pout and remind him that he was by himself now and they would be more than willing to give him comfort. He would pat soft bottoms and tell them that there were plenty of others that could scratch her itchy cunt. "Thanks to you, Christopher, I can ask anyone to do that for me, provided that they are of the right age and wish to take me. We will always remember you for that, Chris. You have taught all of us to love each other and to respect each other. It is a pity that some of the beautiful girls and boys that live among us and wear their white robes so humbly do not understand that some of us pine for them to notice us and satisfy our itchy cunts and stiff cocks.

"Can you talk to Ruthven when he comes to get you and take you to his home in the stars and make them want us, Chris. It is so sad that they do not know the joy it would be to lie between my legs and feel the heat of my cunt as I hold them tight and kiss those beautiful lips. To feel my lips around their wonderfully big cocks, and I know they are, Christopher because I have bathed in the river naked with them. Such beauty, such wonderful minds are wasted when they do not look for a lover but wander off by themselves and die alone in the caves or deep in the forests." Christopher had nodded sadly in agreement as he gave the girl a long cuddle before gently patting her dainty arse and sending her on her way.

He watched the pretty girl wander away and smile as she encountered a young male that it seemed had eyes for her. He smiled as she took his hand and they shyly headed for the path that led to the homes behind the village square. No doubt the young woman would be having her wishes fulfilled in short order.

Continuing to look around he spied some of the Special Ones wandering around the village. His head bowed for a short time as he saw the faces of Keefer and Cassandra in his mind. The beautiful girl was long gone. She had passed away quietly in her bed at the age of twenty-six. Keefer had disappeared to the caves in the mountains not long after and it had been Christopher that had found his lifeless body deep inside one of the higher ones. He had sobbed as he brought the body down and helped prepare the fires that would consume him. He had done so for all the Special Ones, then called the Unclean, into its embrace and ended the darkest time of Little Prism's history.

***

He left suddenly one night. A note left on his kitchen table told the town he had gone and they shed tears openly in the streets and in their homes.

My time is done was all it said.

END OF THE HISTORY OF THE SPECIAL ONES.