The Destiny Seeker Ch. 05

Wendy

Wendy lay on a plain white towel on tile floor in the hot, dry room. The sweat ran from her nude body and dripped on to the wood floor as she lay there in the semi darkness. From the small window near the top of the far wall in the small room, she could see that the sky was just beginning to lighten with streaks of tangerine and strawberry against a dark background. This was both the best and most difficult times for her. This was when she could let her thoughts wander and roam throughout the universe of her dreams and memories.

When she came into the room 20 minutes earlier dressed in only a cotton kimono and worn slippers, she carried in one hand a cup of steaming herbal tea and in the other hand a black silk purse shield closed by a drawstring. She set the tea cup on a low shelf and the purse on a small hand crafted stone table that was next to the towel where she now lay. This was her routine whenever she traveled. She either brought or bought the items that she needed to set up a room like this wherever she stayed.

She opened the drawstring and extracted from the purse a small, irregularly shaped pale wafer about the size of the end of her thumb. She placed the wafer on her tongue and took a sip of tea. She walked over to the thermostat on the wall and turned it to the maximum, switched on the heat lamp next to her, set the electrical timer and went back to the towel. She hung the kimono on a nearby hook and slipped off her shoes. She sat on the rough fabric and took another sip of tea as she felt the first waves of radiant heat wash over her. She lay on her back and closed her eyes.

She loved the heat and the way her body felt as her skin became moist. As the drugs from the wafer coursed through her body she felt relaxed and comfortable. Sometimes she would trace the pattern on her skin with her fingertips to follow the progress of the drug. Her stomach first, and then to her back and chest. Her fingertips would follow up the curve of her breasts to her nipples, and then to her throat and shoulders and down her arms. Only then would the drug work its way down her lower body, slowly making its way down her thighs, calves and then into her feet. The penultimate location was between her legs and the pleasure she felt as this happened was the last thing she would feel before the drug entered her brain.

The feeling was always the same. It was both a relaxation of her brain and a focusing of her thoughts. It was simultaneously an out of body experience and and a sharp increase in her control and feelings from inside her body. Had she been an artist, she could have created a perfect image of how she looked at this moment without the use of a mirror.

As she started to let her senses take leave of her body, she had to resist the urge to immediately turn them towards Charles She wanted to get a sense of what he was feeling this morning. This didn't happen very often and there was a good reason. As her grandmother had told her when she was learning about her abilities, "If you try too hard to find something to want to know, you will influence what you see. The harder you try the more you will shape the feelings with your own. Don't try too hard and don't trust what you learn if you do."

She had to learn on her own how hard was "too hard." It was a subtle, wavering line. Sometimes she had been forced to try and then had to work through a confusing maze of ideas and destinies to determine her role. Her experience with the Thai princess when she had just turned 21 had nearly been an epic disaster and had taught her a valuable lesson. That her grandmother had left her alone to determine and shape this destiny was still an unexplained mystery.

The best action was to simply let her mind roam. Usually it would lead to a dream like state where outside "realities" would start to mix with her own thoughts and memories. This morning it was the thought of the color streaked morning sky that guided her. The colors coalesced into a bowl of fruit on a dusty table. She immediately became hungry and the scene took shape into a small cafe where she was sitting alone at a table. In front of her was a single cup of tea exactly like the one beside her now. She reached down a lifted it to her lips. It tasted cool, and she absently knew that she was mimicking this action in her meditation room.

She began to recognize the cafe as one she had visited many years before in Marrakesh. She could smell the tangine spices from the food being prepared and heard the sounds of motor bikes racing up and down the narrow corridors of the old marketplace. Her hunger began to make her feel uncomfortable and she looked for the Moroccan waiter. She saw the man in in the corner with his back to her, busy preparing Moroccan tea for someone. She cleared her throat and politely called out "hello?" He immediately turned to her and Wendy was shocked to see that it was Charles. He carried the silver teapot to her table and immediately began to pour the sweet, mint flavoured liquid into the cup (which she saw was now a traditional multi color Moroccan tea glass) that was in front of her. In true local fashion, he started to pour from just above the cup and ended the pour from a distance of half a meter above it. Not a drop was spilled.

"Have you decided what you would like to order?" He asked in his west coast American accent. He looked bored and distant.

"What do you recommend today?" She asked.

He cocked his head to the side and looked at her with renewed interest. "I am so happy that you asked." he said as he sat down in the chair across from her. She noticed that he was no longer wearing the traditional Moroccan tunic and was now dressed in blue jeans and a white button down shirt, just as he had been when they met for the first time. The shirt was now unbuttoned and open in the front. He was sweating but did not look at all uncomfortable.

"Normally I would recommend the lamb tangine since that is what the tourists seem to enjoy. However, I sense that you have a more discerning palate. For you I recommend the cactapus prepared in the traditional style with blood orange. I think that you will find that you just can't get enough of it."

He turned and on a small marble table beside him was a crimson coloured plate with round slices of something that appeared to be eggplant or perhaps cucumber. He set the plate in front of her.

"Please eat as much as you like. I can always prepare more. I think it's just what you need."

She looked up from the plate and back at Charles across from her. He was now shirtless, and still sweating. "Please, eat..." He said and then stood up from the table and started walking away. He was completely naked. She stared at him as he walked. He didn't have a perfect body. He was a little thick in the waist and had odd scars on his back. However, he was quite solid and conveyed a sense of power and athletic grace. He had broad shoulders and the sexiest ass she had ever seen.

He walked past the table where he had appeared in this dream and walked through a doorway covered with a thick curtain. On the curtain was an image of a tiger and a bulldog standing together. The curtain opened again he was facing her, but now he was wearing a kimono similar to the one that she wore when she came into the meditation room. It was closed just enough that his groin was hidden, but she had the sense that his cock was tumescent and growing. She tried to will the kimono to fall open. She felt a familiar but distant stirring in her stomach and between her legs. The front of the kimono was twitching and pushing out from his body. She focused harder to make it open. She felt flushed and suddenly was losing control. Suddenly he turned and walked away. The curtain fell shut and her body shuddered. Suddenly the curtain opened again and a small strawberry haired female child ran through. She looked like she was about to cry.

"Have you seen my daddy?" She said.

That was when she woke up in the now light room. She was aware of three things immediately. The first was that she had experienced a powerful orgasm. The second was that the room was now cool. The third was that she felt very uneasy.

As was her custom, she walked across the meditation room to a small table with a chair. Next to the table was a small thermos filled with cold water. She grabbed the thermos and took a long drink. Then she sat at the table. On the table was binder style notebooks and a simple mechanical pencil. She opened the notebook, turned to a fresh sheet of paper and bnegan top write noted on what she had experienced. Just as with normal dreams, the memories tended to evaporate quickly over time. It was especially important to describe the details as quickly as possible.

It was interesting to her that Charles had mentioned cactapus. She had not thought of this word in many years. Her grandmother had a cactus plant in her house in southern Scotland. As a small girl, Wendy had always been fascinated by this plant because of the dangerous looking thorns and the fact that it had eight branches or arms, so she had invented the name "cactapus." This plant had taken on significant importance to her when she learned it played a part in her ability to see destinies. It was the same for all of the women in her family who had this ability. In fact, the wafers she ingested before her meditations came from dried slices of the cactapus.

She finished writing her notes and closed her notebook. She would review them later after she had cleared her head and was able to think objectively. She looked at her cellphone and was startled to se that over three hours had past since she first entered the room. No wonder the room now felt cool. She always set the lamp timer for 60 minutes. She decided that she would shower now and rest for thirty minutes.

She set the water temperature to Luke warm and stepped in. As usual in Hong Kong, it was difficult to regulate temperature. She was nearly scalded one moment and chilled the next. She didn't mind, it helped to clear her mind. The third time that the water became hot she decided that she had enough and stepped out, dried and wrapped her hair in the towel. She walked into the bedroom and set her phone alarm for thirty minutes. Then she turned off the lights and lay down on the bed.

She closed her eyes and found her thoughts drifting to the image of Chas from her meditation. Just as in the dream, she began to feel the electricity within her. She began to lightly touch her stomach, thighs and breasts. She enjoyed lightly touching very much. She was very comfortable with her body although she rarely shared it with anyone. As her long fingers slipped between her legs, she knew that this was about to change.