Masters of the Arches - Cover

Masters of the Arches

Copyright© 2004 by Mandil

Chapter 1

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A man of the verge of depression discovers a secret so fantastic that it overshadows all of his many problems. When he investigates further his discovery, he embarks on a series of adventures that takes him to the edge of the universe.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Romantic   Slow  

Money had always been the main preoccupation in Vincent Manning's life. How to earn money, how to make more money and of course how to keep it, which is sometime more difficult than making it.

Ever since he was young, everything he did or thought about had to do with his goal of becoming a millionaire before he was forty. When he had chosen to attend university and get a degree in administration, it had been in his mind that such a degree would greatly increase his chances of earning that first million.

He had started his own business in the import-export sector soon after he graduated and women had no place in his life since he was much too busy taking care of his growing business.

It was therefore a tremendous shock to him when he found himself completely ruined one day. Before that fatal day things were going very well. He had twelve employees working for his company and he was almost half way to his first million dollars. Besides the fact that he owned a big mansion in a well-to-do district of Montcalm, he had a country cottage in the Adirondack Mountains. Of course, he didn't go there very often since it meant being away from his business, but when he did, it was mostly for hunting and fishing. Since his summerhouse was over 150 miles from Montcalm, when he went there to rest, it was for a few days at a time. Vincent did enjoy living in nature. He especially loved the tall trees of all kind on his land. Had it been at all possible for him to live in his cottage while at the same time being able to take care of his business, he would have gladly done so. But his export-import business had to be situated in the city since the money was there. He therefore had no choice on the matter of where he had to live.

Before the incident that took away his business, he had a very high profile in Montcalm. He was a member of the local Chamber of Commerce and he also sat on the board of directors of the Montcalm General Hospital.

Yes, life had been sweet for Vincent until that day when they found over two pounds of cocaine in some of his imported furniture. From that day on, his luck changed for the worse. In less than six months he lost everything he owned except for his cottage and a few thousand dollars in the bank. Even then, he had barely managed to escape from serving time in prison. It was only the fact that he had hired the best lawyer and that he also paid the stiff fine, that kept him from spending a few years in jail.

Of course, he knew nothing about the drugs. But still, someone or a group of persons had been using his business to get the stuff into the country without any risk to themselves. Being the sole owner of the company, he had been held responsible for the trafficking and also he was suspect number one.

When everything was finally settled, and after paying the hefty fine plus the court and lawyers fees, he was left with five thousand dollars and his country cottage. Everything else he had owned was now gone. On the verge of depression and broken in spirit, he packed his used car with foodstuff and the few possessions he still owned and he drove north to his cottage in the Adirondack Mountains.

The stone house was situated three quarters up the crest of a tall peak and to get there he had to travel on an old gravel road for five miles after getting off the paved road. There were no neighbours for at least five miles and he had refused to pay for the installation of the phone poles since it would have cost over ten thousand dollars. Even his cell phone did not work there since he was too far from any large town.

As for electricity, well the hydro line did not go that far into the wilderness so he had installed a generator and he was happy with that arrangement. Once a year he would have the fuel truck drive there and fill his five hundred gallon tank with fuel for his generator as well as heating oil for his furnace. Whenever he was there he felt like a different man. In other words, he was in his 'milieu', and he often wished that he could remain there forever.

He had been living as a hermit in his cottage now for over a week and he was still very depressed. Whereas before the unfortunate incident that had ruined him, his only goal in life was to get rich very fast, he no longer had such aim. The events of the last six months had taught him the futility and fragility of his old ambitions.

So, it was while he was in his usual depressed state of mind that one day he went for his daily walk on his three hundred acre property. Upon returning to the cottage that day, he observed a fox running into a bush at the foot of a vertical rock formation not far from his house. The rock wall was part of an extremely large bolder. Such a rock wall was very common in that part of the mountain.

He was an expert hunter and even though he was not in a frame of mind to engage in such a sport at that moment, curiosity got the better of him. Therefore, he went to investigate the bushes where he had last seen the fox only a moment before.

As he approached the spot where it had last been seen, he saw the grey animal dive away on its right and run away into the edge of the wood. At the same time he noticed a small opening or crack-like fissure in the rock wall. After stepping on the lower growth and bending a few saplings, which were growing everywhere and were still hiding much of the hole, he was soon standing next to an almost circular opening through the rock.

He bent over and touched the edge with his hand. It was a hole indeed but judging by the discoloration of its sides and also by the moss growing over the rock all around it, he could tell that it had been there undisturbed for a very long time. No animals were living in there since the constant rubbing against the side would have scraped away the moss and there also would be a visible trail leading to it.

He got on his knees and he looked inside. He couldn't see much except that it went into a sort of cave-like opening. He threw a small rock inside. Judging by the sounds it made, and also from its echo, he was able to tell that there was a large cavity inside the rock wall.

Having nothing better to do, he went into the house and got a flashlight. When he sent the beam of light into the hole, he was able to see the interior of a large cavern and where the light fell on the opposite wall, the beam was reflected on something very shiny. He could tell that it was something either metallic or even made of glass.

Judging from the reflection of his light beam, it was a half-circular band of polished material embedded into the rock wall. It was about seven feet in diameter and didn't seem to have been affected by the humidity inside since Vincent couldn't detect any sign of rust on it.

There was no way for him to enter through the hole since it was much too small for his body to squeeze through. The following day, he returned with a metal bar and he began to chip at the rock to enlarge the hole. He was able to break away a few small rocks at the base but still the entrance was not wide enough to let his body through. With another hour of hard work, he managed to dislodge and roll away a large stone that was part of the circular hole. Once it was well off to the side of the opening, he was finally able to squeeze himself inside.

The interior of the cavern was cool and very damp. He immediately went to investigate the cause of the circular reflection that fascinated him so much. It was some kind of archway that had been smoothly cut from the stone. Deep into the rock and going all around it, was imbedded the circular band about three inches wide and made of a silver-like metal. The metal band went from the rock floor on one side in an almost circular pattern back to the floor again with a height of at least seven feet in the middle.

Someone and taken great care to carve the rock wall for a depth of about two feet past the silver band of the portal. For from all evidence it was a portal.

Where could it lead? Nowhere it seemed, since after a depth of a couple of feet there was the rock wall. The same rock that made up the rest of the cave.

"Who would go into that much trouble to built an archway leading to a flat wall?" thought Vincent.

On closer inspection, he discovered that the floor under - and also a few inches in front of the arch - was some kind of synthetic material. It had all the appearance of hard rock but when he actually placed his hand on the smooth surface, it felt like some kind of hard rubber.

After deciding that it would indeed support his weight, he stepped on the rubber-like material so as to get a better look at the flat stone wall, which made up the wall of the arch.

The instant that his feet touched the floor plate, he felt a numb sensation throughout his body and the next instant the wall in front of him was gone. He was now facing a doorway where just a few seconds earlier was the wall of the cave.

Of course, he remained frozen on his feet for a time. His mind had great difficulty adjusting to the impossible feedback that his eyes were registering. What was happening to him was something impossible. The flat wall of the cave that had been just a few feet ahead of him was now gone and in its place was an opening. He could not believe what his eyes were telling him.

As soon as the initial shock was over, he began to look beyond the newly created opening. He could tell that there was another cave on the other side of the opening, a cave much larger than the one he had been in just a few seconds earlier. Straight ahead, into this larger cave, he could also see daylight filtering through some kind of break in the far wall. Partly covering the break, he saw plants growing. There were vines and small trees also and the light from outside was filtering through the abundant leaves.

He was still greatly shaken by what had just happened but still without thinking any further, he stepped ahead and entered into the large cave. After walking straight ahead until he reached the spot where he saw the daylight, he pushed the vines aside and he looked outside. He was stunned and frightened at the same time with the sight before his eyes.

From his position, he could tell that he was high above a grass-covered valley. Far below on his left he could see a river that curved here and there until it disappeared in a luscious forest of tall looking trees. There was no river on his land, and furthermore the closest river was at least fifty miles away. Vincent kept telling himself that he was dreaming and that at any moment he was going to come out into reality.

But after many long minutes examining the scenery below him, he finally had to admit to himself that he was not dreaming and the landscape below him was quite real. Still, this was not the land around his cottage and that grass valley didn't belong in the Adirondacks. Where was he? More important still, how did he get here?

These thoughts soon made him panic and he ran back into the large cave. The silver half-circle on the archway was still there and the rock wall blocking the way he had walked into the larger cave was also there. His way back was now blocked.

His fear began to increase and in desperation, he once again stepped on the rubber-looking plate under the archway. Again, there was the same numb sensation throughout his body. Next he found himself facing the small hole, which was the entrance of the smaller cave. The same hole he had worked on for over an hour to enlarge so that he could get into the cave.

The familiarity of his surroundings didn't help a great deal to calm him down and he got on his hands and knees and crawled out into fresh air.

As soon as he was on his feet again he hurried to the cottage and poured himself a large drink. Then as he sat in his favourite armchair, he reviewed in his mind the events of the last hour.

He remained in the house for the rest of the day while the events of the morning went on playing back again and again in his mind. Still, the more he thought about it the more he felt himself the victim of his imagination. For one thing there was absolutely no explanation whatsoever to justify what had happened. Worse still, even if there was a possibility for him to accept what he had witnessed it meant that there was practically no possible limit to what could be out there.

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