The Forbidden Tablets

In ancient Arabia, intrigue and betrayal in a tribe ruled by women leads to a severe, but very erotic, punishment.

Author's note: The Thamud were a real tribe in Ancient Arabia. No one knows why they disappeared around the time of the rise of Islam. Some say it was because they were Matriarchal in an ever more Patriarchal society. Oral tradition says they were wiped out by the lava flow and dust from a volcano. No one knows. And this story of ancient tablets which tell their story is fiction... for now.

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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2017 by The Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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A huge trove of clay tablets was recently found buried at the site of an ancient village in the Arabian desert. Archeologists and anthropologists were ecstatic to find such an intact record of tribal history. All but eight of those tablets have been translated and published for use in universities. Eight of the tablets, however, were deemed to be unsuitable for study. They are known as The Forbidden Tablets or The Forbidden Story because the eight, taken together, are all part of one story.

The following is a translation of the story found on those eight tablets. Perhaps after reading this you will understand why those who found the tablets kept this particular story hidden.

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Tablet One

I don't know when I first started hating Amira. I feel as if I have hated her all of my life. My time has gone completely around the circle of time almost twice and my hatred for her has been with me while both the tip of the shadow and the night sands measured my life. I became a maiden shortly after the twelfth hour of my life was proclaimed by the dawn of my second day of years. My years can now see the approach of a new dawn where the shadow will once again appear on the wheel and still I hate Amira more than anything else in my life.

Not that there is all that much to hate in my life. I am, after all, one of the Royal Princesses. I am third in line to the throne of Queen Zara- actually second now that Malika, heir to the throne, has disgraced herself.

She was found in the bed of a Nubian by the palace guards. Being in someone's bed was not a disgrace. The Queen and her daughters may choose whomever they wish to bed. If a child results and she is a female, she is raised with the princesses. If the child is a male, he is trained to lead the army. The army is absolutely loyal, but that is to be expected. There is no threat that a mere man might rise up against the Queen. The men may have power and weapons, but only a woman may sit on the throne of the Thamud people.

The problem with this particular Nubian is that he was a known assassin and Malika, named as a Queen from her birth, was not seeking a child. Under the threat of a very painful death, the Nubian confessed all. He shook in his chains as he screamed out that Amira was paying for the death of her mother, Queen Zara.

In many of the tribes, such treachery would have resulted in an immediate death sentence, but Life does not belong to us. We cannot take life except as needed in battle. Queen Zara decreed that Malika, meaning queen, is now named Zienab, flower of the desert. That name has been written in her skin across her breasts along with our word for traitor. And she has been given to the Nubian as a wife along with a significant dowry and a warning to never come into Thamud lands again.

Zienab was, in reality, the Nubian's punishment. If he does not care for her or divorces her, the Queen will hear of it and send for him. Regardless of his actions at that point, the Queen's men will report that he attacked them or attempted to flee or whatever and they were forced to kill him. Our laws forbid the taking of life, but there are always ways around the laws of our people.

Changing Malika's name was not a mere whim of the Queen. Names are very important in our culture. The Queen's firstborn daughter is always named Malika, Queen. The next female child is named Amira, Princess. The third is named whatever the Queen feels is correct when she first holds her. Queen Zara must have been thinking of the flowers of the field when she held me because she called me Nawra, bloom or flower.

Tablet Two

There was a great sickness when Zara was a young girl. Many of her sisters died. Then her mother died and she became Queen. She has ruled now for many, many years, but her life has gone around the circle at least four times. She is starting to show the wear of time.

The years are also showing on this Bloom, but unlike the desert flowers which appear in one day and are gone the next, the Flower that is me is very durable... and patient. I can wait until the circle of time finally ends for Queen Zara. And by the time that occurs, the Princess will also have been disgraced and eliminated.

Malika was a fool to use her body to attempt to buy her mother's death. Bedding such an evil and powerful man made her intentions obvious. She was easily discovered and disgraced. No one notices- or at least no one cares- that I bed older men... men without power... men without strength... men who have nothing to give me... ... except jewels and trinkets.

Jewels and trinkets, however, can be turned into gold coins. And gold coins can buy anything. It has taken a long time... and many gold coins... to put my plan into action. Men- and even in some cases women- were bribed to bribe a second man who paid a third man to do some little favor for me.

The first favor, of course, was to lure Malika to the Nubian's bed. The despicable assassin was quite willing to accidentally meet her and then slowly draw her under his spell. "I just need to use a different knife," he replied with a laugh when he was well-paid in advance for his work.

A second favor was from a palace servant who put seven Bedouin coins I had given her in the bottom of Amira's personal chest. I haven't seen the bottom of my bed chest for years, neither has Amira, but seven coins are the symbol of a covenant treaty for the Bedouins. The seven gold coins in her chest would be proof of her plotting with the Bedouins against the Queen.

Another favor was purchased from the tribal shaman. It is known that he is a weak and corrupt man, but when he goes into his trances, he can speak of the future with great certainty. And what he says is almost always right. A vision is a powerful thing. The vision itself can bring about what it foretells. If the Shaman begins to see bad things for the tribe or weakness in the Queen, it could bring about what he claims to see.

The lecherous old goat wanted more than money. He said it was foretold that he would receive a Queen's daughter in his bed before he died. So he was sent a written promise from Amira that she would bed him the day the Queen fell.

The final favor was requested from a known assassin from within our own tribe. He was a man known to easily take life and that caused him to have to live as an outcast among us. But he did live among us. And despite his despicable character, he was a devoted servant of the Queen. I knew that he would report everything to the Queen. He would even give her the tablet on which was written- and sealed with Amira's own thumbprint- the instructions of when and where to commit the assassination.

That was the hardest part of my plan- getting Amira to press her thumb into a blank tablet. Putting your seal on something is not a little thing. Your seal was your promise... your pledge... your very soul.

I would never have been able to do it, but for some reason the Queen wanted me to learn how to read and write. Normally something such as that was beneath a royal daughter, but the village shaman had dreamed a dream that the prosperity of the kingdom depended upon me learning to read and write the little stabs and slices the scribes put into the clay of their tablets. Writing was, for some reason, important to him. There were ancient tablets which he kept in his hovel of a home that supposedly told the true history of our tribe and foretold our future.

One day, while Amira and I were alone in the royal bedrooms, I pretended to be practicing my writing. I made it obvious I was having great problems with something. Finally I threw down my hands in frustration. "I can't get it right!" I cried out. "No matter how I try, my seal ends up just a smudge in the clay."

Amira laughed that light, silvery laugh which so irritates me and said, "I'll show you how to do it properly." She then gently pressed her thumb against the bottom of a blank tablet I handed her. "See," she said, "you have to press very gently and roll your thumb from side to side to make the proper seal."

I pretended to scrape that slate clean, but what I scraped was the one I had been practicing on. When Amira left the room, I wrote the letter to the assassin that she had unknowingly sealed with her own thumb.

I knew it would not be long after that, and this morning a royal proclamation was announced throughout the village and the nearby lands. "This very afternoon, at the beginning of the fourth watch of the day, the Queen will sit in judgement of another traitor."

Tablet Three

My plans were coming together. By nightfall, Amira would join her disgraced sister. I could barely eat at noon, and sleep during the third watch rest period was all but impossible.

The trumpet declaring the beginning of the fourth watch finally sounded. I, all of my sisters, my aunts, and all my female cousins, were seated beneath the royal awning. A few rich merchants and high-ranking officers of the army sat beneath a smaller awning. The late afternoon sun threw long shadows out into the small arena which was used for many things, but most importantly as an open court where the Queen would sit in judgement of criminals.

As the trumpet echoed it call, the Queen emerged from the castle with her elite guard. Rather than walking directly to her throne, which was shaded by its own awning, she walked out into the open area and addressed her daughters.

"Daughters of mine," she began, "I gave birth to fourteen children during my fertile years. Two died, four were males, leaving eight as heirs to the throne."

Her voice broke slightly as she continued, "Recently I was forced to banish my oldest daughter from this realm because she could not wait for my time to make its final circle on the wheel. Today, I have been given proof that a second heir, another child of my own body, has acted treasonously against me and our tribe. The evidence against her is overwhelming. There is no doubt of her guilt. We are met here today not to judge her guilt or innocence, but rather to determine her punishment."

She looked up at me. Her eyes were full of sadness as she said, "Nawra, my precious desert bloom, you are my third child and since the treason and banishment of Malika, you are second in line to my throne. The seer of our tribe says that you are blessed with special gifts and will be with our tribe for many years. So, daughter of mine, what should the punishment be for this grievous act of treason by one of my children?"

She motioned for me to come down and stand before the gathering while she, herself, took her seat beneath her golden awning. Two slaves with feather fans stood beside her to provide a gentle breeze as I spoke.

"Beloved Queen, my mother," I began, "you must decree a severe and public punishment that will be spoken of within the tribe for generations to come. Only in this way will you cut off thoughts of treachery before those seeds blossom into treasonous actions."

The crowd, including my sisters and cousins murmured in approval. I could see Amira's head bob as she, too, agreed with my severe words. Watching her sitting there completely oblivious of the web I had woven around her filled me with such happiness. I would finally have my revenge against the one I hated most.

I don't know that I had ever thought about what punishment Amira should or would receive once my trap was sprung. Normally someone adjudged guilty of treason is publicly punished in some symbolic fashion and then banished. But I wanted more than banishment for Amira. And my hatred demanded more than a symbolic punishment. As I looked out at my sisters it all came into focus in my head as if it were a vision.

"The traitor's punishment," I continued, "should begin here, now, today. Immediately after her condemnation is announced, she should be stripped naked and made to stand before the Queen as the totality of her crimes are clearly stated for the tribe to hear."

I pointed to the officers of the army and said, "Her brothers should then hold her in place and administer a flogging of forty lashes plus one."

Normally a flogging was forty lashes minus one to guarantee that the law was not broken by forty-one lashes accidentally being given. Only in the case of the most grievous crimes was the full forty lashes administered with a trusted officer of the army carefully calling out the count. Forty plus one was reserved as a symbol in those very rare cases where the crime was exceptionally heinous and deserved a much more serious punishment.

I paused and my sisters all leaned slightly forward waiting for what I would say next. I felt a warm glow, almost as if I were with a gentle lover, as I stated the next part of the punishment. "After all gathered have heard her screams," I said firmly, "she should be tied to the back of a jackass and paraded in shame through all the streets of our village."

There was a collective gasp from the crowd. The parade of shame was normally only done for women who had seduced another's husband or for prostitutes who refused to wear the paints and colors of their profession.

For the parade of shame, a woman was laid naked on the back of an ass. She would be face up with her ankles tied to the donkey's front collar. In order to fit on the small animal's back, she was then pushed as far forward as possible. This would force her legs to be spread wide with her knees almost alongside the ass's head.

Once pushed forward with her legs spread, the unfortunate woman's head would now be riding just above the animal's furry tail. To hold her in place, her arms would be pulled beneath her and tied tightly together under the donkey's haunches. If it were a jenny, that was not a great problem, since the jennies tend to be much more docile. But if she were tied on a jack, the animal would buck and jump about with any struggle on her part. Such bucking and jumping would, of course, cause her to be displayed even more lewdly as she struggled to stay on the animal's back.

When the woman was paraded through the village, she was slowly taken down each side street from the main street to the edge of the village. When the street ended, she was turned around and taken back up the street to the opposite end where she would once again be turned around and brought back to the main street. That meant that she was effectively paraded down each and every street in town twice.

The members of the tribe were forbidden to throw anything which would hurt or kill the woman, but rotted fruits, eggs, and manure were allowed. Technically, human excrement was not to be thrown, but shit is shit and often what was thrown came from the night soil bags gathered from the streets and byways by poor farmers for their fields.

"She should then," I continued, "be taken to the army barracks and cleaned off in the trough at the end of the street. After she is clean enough, she should be tied to the rail where the horses are normally tied and left there for the soldiers to use until the sun of a new day shines on her naked body.

"In the morning, the prostitutes of the town should come and clean her up as they would one of their own. They should then paint her face as they would their own and use henna to write the words 'traitor', 'treason,' and 'slut,' all over her body."

I found that I was trembling, almost as if I were going to climax as I continued, "And then they should put a collar around her neck and lead her back here to the place of judgement where you will officially ban her from the village."

I couldn't help but smile as I finished with "Her brothers should march beside her as she walks out of the village, the rope of slavery still hanging from the collar on her neck."

Only once before in our history- long, long, ago- had someone been banished naked into the wilderness. In that case it was one of the daughters who had fallen in love with a general from an opposing army. The reason for the war was not carried down with the stories, neither was who won, but part of the final peace treaty was that the daughter, Takisha, was stripped naked, her total body shaved, and she was driven out of the village. Her general stood waiting for her a short distance down the road as she walked in shame and silence. No one has been named Takisha- healthy and alive- since that time.

Table Four

I stood, panting heavily, as I waited for my mother the Queen to tell me to return to my seat. My four brothers were already standing with me, ready to receive Amira for punishment. I looked directly at my sister and sneered in triumph. Today all my hatred would be satisfied.

I watched as her eyes, and the eyes of all my sisters, suddenly opened wide in surprise. Two of my brothers had grabbed my hands and pulled tightly outward. One of the other two moved to stand before me, the other behind me. They each reached up and grabbed my robes.

The fabric was no match for these strong soldiers. My robe tore loudly as they pulled it from my body. With surprising swiftness, they removed my scarves and underclothing and then all of my jewelry. They even removed the braided tie from my hair so that it was now hanging fully down my back.

I was too shocked to be embarrassed by my nakedness, but somehow the idea of my hair being undone in public caused the heat of shame to come to my body.

"Nawra," the Queen said loudly, "you have be found guilty of crimes against your Queen and your sisters and our tribe."

She rose from her royal throne and came down to stand directly in front of me. "I first became aware that something was wrong when Amira came to me and said that someone had placed seven Bedouin coins in her bed chest." She chuckled. "One of Amira's weaknesses, in this case, proved to be a strength. Everything must be so neat and exact for her. Whoever removed her clothing from the chest did not put it back exactly as it had been."

She turned slightly so she could look at Amira and continued. "I would not have noticed such a little difference. But Amira did and she found the coins. 'Why would someone do this?' she asked me, and I told her about the tradition of making a treaty with the Bedouins. To seal the treaty you exchange seven golden coins."