14

Chapter 13: The Gods Khalid, Ahmed, and Chaka

It was an entirely new way of thinking for Masharaf.

Marsharaf had been a simple day laborer. He didn't earn much of a living, but he worked hard, when he could find the odd job here or there. Marsharaf didn't think much about the Book of Sparticus. He was a follower, of course, but never found much passion in the Book. He was barely literate, anyway.

Marsharaf desperately wanted to make more money, or at least to get a better job which could help attract a wife. Being a laborer who worked part time jobs would never get him anywhere with women. His social life was so dry that he felt like he was already living in the Womenless Forest. The last time he had been with a woman had been on the night of the orgy to celebrate Victarus, the day that Sparticus decapitated the Sheep Men and took their women for his own.

Ahmed had liked the hungry look in Marsharaf's eyes when he interviewed him. Masharaf was eager for work, eager for action. He was hired to join the Stranglers of Laquinta. At the time Masharaf had no idea who or what the fuck Laquinta was, but it didn't matter. He had a prestigious job working for the Gods. Or, at least one of them. It was kind of confusing, and Masharaf didn't like to dwell on things which were confusing.

It was no accident that Brother Khalid put Ahmed in charge of the Stranglers. Back on Ramada, Ahmed had worked for several years in the Basi, the ranks of the religious police whose job it was to maintain compliance with the order, as determined by the Mullahs of Laquinta. But one day while on patrol, Ahmed had found a heretic who dared to draw an image of Laquinta. Ahmed stripped off his shirt and proceeded to whip him in public. But instead of giving him ten lashes, Ahmed kept going. So great was his anger at the heretic that Ahmed kept going and going, lashing into him, even after the heretic slumped and stopped screaming, and it wasn't until his compatriots stopped him at the 30th lash, did they realize that the heretic was dead.

The scandal that ensued found Ahmed dismissed from the service, and it could have been even worse, if not for Khalid's intervention. He took odd jobs he could find after that, but felt that he had been cheated from his true calling.

And now he had a second chance. It felt like The Great God of Blood wanted him back on the job.

Ahmed took Marsharaf on patrol with him, along with some other Stranglers. They dressed all in black. His men only had clubs and whips, for now, but Ahmed promised them curved swords, just like his.

Neighborhood watch programs had been set up to spy on heretics, and one of them reported a man with a fourteen year old daughter who refused to welcome her into womanhood.

Ahmed and his friend descended on his home. Ahmed kicked open his door, and a woman screamed. Ahmed entered, and had words with the husband. At first he tried to deny that his daughter was 14. He said she was 16. But Ahmed slapped his wife around until the truth came out. She had just turned 14. Under the rules of Laquinta, the Great God of Blood, the girl must be welcomed into womanhood by her father.

Ahmed gave the father one last chance to comply. But he was obstinate. He said the Book of Sparticus didn't require this. Ahmed told him to go fuck the Book of Sparticus, that this was a requirement of the Great God of Blood, and was he going to do it, or not? The father said no.

Ahmed barked an order, and the man was lifted by the arms and taken outside. He was brought to a main street, and his shirt was stripped off, and he was held by his arms. Ahmed paused only momentarily, then selected Marsharaf to whip him.

Marsharaf had nothing against the man. But an order was an order. He pulled out his whip and cracked it experimentally. It came forth loud and clear. Then he started flaying the man's back in strips. The man screamed in pain. Marsharaf looked at Ahmed. Ahmed smiled at him. He was doing well. Marsharaf kept whipping.

Finally when the man was dripping blood, and crying tears, Ahmed nodded slightly, and Marsharaf stopped.

When it was over, Ahmed looked at the crying mother, and the crying daughter. "I would hear you thank the Great God of Laquinta now," he said, with a steely stare. And the mother, staring at her husband, actually stuttered some form of thanks.

Ahmed nodded sternly, and considered it a job well done.

Marsharaf didn't think too much about his work, whether he was doing right, or wrong, or something else. He hadn't been brought up to think in such terms. He was simply doing work, important work, which got him a good salary, and gave him a high profile job. As a Strangler of Laquinta, people looked at him with fear and respect. But mostly, fear.

That evening, a number of people gathered outside the main Shrine of Sparticus with candles, in some form of protest. Ahmed didn't understand that. What power could candles have? They were the most powerless things he could imagine. Were these protestors trying to project weakness? Nothing about this strange land made any sense.

From the inside of his Palace, Khalid looked out at the protestors.

"Shall I disperse them?" Ahmed asked.

"Eliminate the men," Brother Khalid said immediately. "But bring ten of the finest women to me."

Masharaf followed Ahmed out into the crowd. There were thirty or forty protestors, but they had no weapons. Ahmed told his Stranglers to spare the women, and then gave the order to attack.

They went out and slaughtered the men. The men didn't even fight back. They just screamed, or tried to run away. Masharaf had no qualms about killing them. It was all part of the job.

When they were done, and all the men had been killed, or fled, there were a dozen women left. Ahmed went over them with his curved sword and stabbed two of the older ones. Masharaf looked inquiringly at him.

"Khalid said to only bring back ten," he explained.

The women were brought into the palace in a huddled, sobbing mass.

"Welcome," said Khalid, sitting on his throne. "I grieve with you for your recent losses. But I have some good news which will really brighten your day. I am going to offer you an offer of a lifetime. To serve the Great God Laquinta." One of the women cried out "No!", and Khalid laughed, and ordered the woman who had yelled to be brought to his quarters. She was a little older than he normally preferred, in her mid 30's, but beautifully blonde, with an ample chest.

"I look forward to training all of you. Laquinta tells us that a properly trained woman is a sight to behold beyond all visions," said Khalid.

********

The woman was trembling in his quarters. She really looked quite beautiful.

"There is nothing to fear, woman. What is your name, dear?" Khalid asked gently

"Acacia," said the blonde woman.

"Acacia. You are going to have the highest honor possible bestowed upon you," said Khalid.

"I am?" said Acacia.

"Yes," said Khalid. "Have you ever serviced a man before?"

"No," said Acacia, shaking her head.

"I'll get you some help." Khalid rang a bell. "Concubine!"

A moment later, Naomi Weinberg, completely naked, entered his quarters. She knelt on the ground, pressing her forehead into her fist. "You rang, Master?"

"Yes," said Khalid pleasantly. "This is the new concubine. Her name is... what was your name, dear?"

"Acacia," said the woman, not understanding what she was hearing.

"Whatever," said Khalid, waving his hand dismissively. He played with his black goatee. "See that she is properly trained. And quickly. I am having a private party the day after tomorrow, and I may want to share her with some of my guests."

"Yes, Master," said Naomi. "Shall I use the small whip, or the black one?"

Time was short. "The black one, I think. But don't leave any marks on her front. She's so pretty."

"Yes, Master," said Naomi. She stood up and took the girl by the arm. "It will be all right. Soon you will be properly trained to serve the Master. Come."

********

"A purity tax?" said Ailborne. He had been summoned, along with the senior merchants of Heraklion, to a meeting of the Gods.

"Yes," said Khalid. "Fifty percent of your income should suffice."

"Fifty percent?" said a merchant. "In the Book of Sparticus, it says that one out of five dinars shall be preserved to save the poor."

"A typographical error," said Brother Khalid. "It should have said, one out of two."

"We can't survive if we have to pay half in taxes," said another merchant.

Ahmed stepped forward swiftly, and with his curved sword, chopped off the merchant's head. His body plunged to the floor, and his head rolled by their feet, leaving a trail of blood whose symbolism pleased Khalid mightily.

"You certainly cannot survive if you do not pay," said Brother Khalid. "This money is not for us, dear friends. It is to pay for the poor, for the hungry, for self defense, and for proper religious education for the young. Can any of you really object to that?"

The merchants, seeing the dead body on the ground spurting blood, shook their heads as one.

"Good," said Khalid. "Our divine tax collectors will be visiting you weekly. Oh, and one more thing: withholding income is among the most deadly of sins. The punishment for that is very, very serious. I trust you all understand me?"

The merchants nodded.

"Very good! Go now in peace, my friends!" said Khalid, giving them a benevolent wave.

As the merchants left, others came in. A man came in with a teenage daughter. The daughter, a young teenage blonde girl, looked a little familiar.

"Master, we are looking for my wife, Acacia," said the man. His name was Gentrig.

Acacia. That rang a bell. Wasn't there a new slut, just a few days ago.... And then, staring at the young girl, it all clicked. Of course. What he was looking at now must be the daughter. She looked as scrumptious as her mother. Not quite as developed physically, but definitely attractive.

"Yes, I seem to recall that name," said Khalid.

"She was in a... protest, my Lord, four days ago. She was misguided," said Gentrig. "We were wondering if you knew her whereabouts."

"She is here, and safe," Khalid assured him.

"May we... see her?" Gentrig asked.

"I'm afraid not. Your wife has elected to enter training to become a devoted scholar of Laquinta. You should be honored."

Gentrig wet his lips cautiously, trying to decide how to respond. "We are honored, my Lord. But we were just wondering if we could see her," he said.

"She is in the girls' dormitory. Persons such as yourself are not allowed," said Khalid. He paused. "However, is that her daughter I spy?"

"Yes, this is Benecia, our 18 year old daughter," said Gentrig

"Perhaps, if you wish, I might allow Benecia to say hello briefly."

Father and daughter quickly exchanged glances, and nodded. "We would be grateful, my Lord."

"I'm sure you will be," Khalid smiled.

Ten minutes later, a Strangler brought Benecia to Khalid's quarters. Benecia saw a blonde woman, totally nude, kneeling down on the floor, as if in prayer. She had whip marks all over her back.

"Acacia, you have a visitor," said Khalid, sitting down in his easy chair.

Acacia sat up. Her face was blank. She showed no recognition of Benecia. Had she been drugged?

"Mother?" said Benecia.

"Your daughter Benecia has heard about the fine work that you have been doing, and has volunteered to join you in your efforts," said Khalid. "You will teach your daughter what is required of her. Please begin now."

Benecia looked from Khalid's leering face to her mother's blank one. What was going on here?

Acacia promptly leaned forward, put her hand into Khalid's pants, and pulled out his penis. "This is how you pleasure an Emir properly, Benecia," said Acacia, in a flat voice. She put his organ in her mouth and started to show her daughter how to pole back and forth.

Benecia looked at her mother in horror. But even worse was Khalid's smile, as he saw that she realized the hard truth: that she was next.

********

An hour later, Benecia was fully nude, and already well on her way to being completely trained. She had required much less effort than her mother, who had required a few whippings to learn obedience. A firm stare, and a few slaps, some harsh tones, as well as the sight of her defeated mother, was enough to get her to grudgingly remove her clothes.

"Off, now! I will not ask again!" Khalid roared.

"It's all right, dear. You are going to serve the Great God Laquinta. It is the highest honor," said Acacia, as she helped removed Benecia's dress. Normally Benecia would never take off her clothes in front of a strange man, but she was strangely sapped of will as her own mother took off her dress. She obediently raised her hands to let her mother take it off. She immediately put her hands to cover her naked breasts. All she wore now were her peasant panties.

"All of it!" Khalid barked.

"Of course, Master," said Acacia, pulling on Benecia's panties.

"No, Mother!" said Acacia.

"It's the God of Blood's will, dear. We must obey," said Acacia. She removed Benecia's restraining hands and pulled down her daughter's panties. Now Benecia was completely nude in front of Khalid. She trembled as Khalid looked at her body in satisfaction.

"Begin!" Khalid barked. Acacia bowed low before Khalid, and said, "May I have the honor of pleasuring you, Master?"

Khalid nodded.

Acacia gently pulled down Khalid's pantaloons. Acacia said, "Here, daughter, feel this," she said, taking hold of Benecia's hand, and wrapping it around Khalid's penis. "Now you rub it, like this."

To her horror, Benecia discovered that she was a quick learner. Acacia soon taught her daughter how to rub a man's most sacred part with her hands.

"But you can serve your God even better with your mouth. Like this," said Acacia, and she slowly inserted Khalid's organ into her mouth. She sucked vigorously, and Khalid moaned. Then she withdrew her mouth with a popping sound. "You try it, Benecia."

Benecia shook her head. "I don't want to, Mother." She looked at Khalid smiling at her greedily and shivered.

"Of course you do, dear. It's for the greater glory of Laquinta," said Acacia. She whispered to Benecia. "They will whip us both if you refuse. Please, dear, do it for me." Her eyes shown with desperation. Benecia reluctantly nodded.

Benecia slowly took Khalid's shaft and put it in her mouth. "Whtrdonow?" she mumbled.

"Shhh, dear, don't talk with your mouth full, it's not polite," said Acacia. "Now start to suck on it with your lips. Go back and forth. That's right, dear! But tighter! The Emir likes it tight! Yes, that's really good dear, you're getting the hang of it!"

Khalid smiled as he watched the daughter arouse him. He always enjoyed a new slave's first time.

Khalid was not the only one who was pleased.

Acacia watched with satisfaction as her firstborn pleasured the Emir's large Ramadian penis.

Four days ago, Acacia had been a totally different person. She had been a fierce idealist, outspoken in the young feminist rights movement which had slowly been taking root in Heraklion. The relatively moderate polices of the Loving Tollahs had opened space for other ideas to bloom. When she saw Brother Khalid assume control, and push the most extreme interpretations of the Book of Sparticus on the population, she knew she had to speak out.

She joined the candlelight demonstration outside the Palace, against the better wishes of Gentrig.

"Please don't go," he had practically begged her. "These people are animals. You don't know what they'll do."

"We will be bathed in the dignity of the candlelight," Acacia had said, raising her chin. "With such moral authority, they won't dare lay a finger on us."

She had been wrong. Very wrong. She still remembers seeing the men slaughtered in front of her, hearing their screams. And then she and the surviving women were brought to the Palace, and then for some reason the Emir took a personal interest in her.

For the first 36 hours she was whipped every three hours. Sometimes her torturer was a big bearded man, one of the Stranglers, but sometimes it was a nude brunette woman, who had similar scar marks on her back. It was this same brunette woman who came to her, between whippings, begging her to submit. Acacia had been given no food or water and was not allowed to sleep.

The effects of the pain and sleep deprivation quickly took their toll, and on the second day when the brunette asked her again if she would submit to Laquinta, Acacia, with all the fight beaten out of her, nodded curtly. She was immediately brought before a Strangler and made to suck him to completion. She did it without resistance, and immediately thereafter got her reward--a stale bun of bread and some water, and a whole hour of sleep.

After that she was called on to do progressively more challenging tasks. Every two hours she would be called to have sex with a guard in some way. At first she was told to lie back and spread her legs and simply submit. Then she was required to kiss the guard and wrap her legs and arms around him. Then she was actually required to mount a guard and actually do the entire sex act on her own, while he lay on his back, perfectly still.

But even after doing all these things, she was unable to avoid whippings. Now the bar was raised yet again. It was not enough merely to comply. She had to show enthusiasm. Any hint of a lack of enthusiasm would earn her a full whipping. Three times Acacia tried to suck a man, or mount him, or let herself be mounted by him, only to be slapped down, chained to a wall and whipped again.

Finally somewhere on the third day Acacia finally learned what was required. She needed to beg openly to serve her Masters. She needed to plead with her eyes, with her voice, with her body language. She needed to make them believe that servicing them sexually was the most important thing in her life. As she got better at this, the beatings stopped, and each time she was successful in convincing them, she got a little more food, and a little more sleep. Very quickly she associated good feelings with devotion to her Masters.

By the evening of the fourth day, she had completely internalized it. She was no longer complying out of fear, or even acting. She genuinely believed her purpose in life was to give her body to pleasure the servants of Laquinta. It had been repeated to her over and over, whispered into her ear by the brunette woman as she half-slept, and now she believed it. Now she served Laquinta with pride.

And so when Benecia appeared, it was with great joy that Acacia's rewired mind saw her daughter sucking on the Emir's sex organ. Benecia was serving Laquinta. She was fulfilling her ultimate biological potential as a woman. Nothing could make her happier.

"Good, dear, you're doing so well," said Acacia, gently massaging Benecia's shoulders as her head moved vigorously back and forth in front of Khalid's groin. Acacia momentarily saw a small semi-circular imprint on the inside of Benecia's left cheek and smiled.

Khalid enjoyed being serviced, but he enjoyed Benecia's encouragement of her daughter even more. As a devout family man, he was a strong believer in the nurturing bonds between mothers and daughters.

But his smile turned to a frown when his holocomm buzzed. For a moment, Khalid ignored it. But then it chimed again. If he didn't answer it, the Infidels might get suspicious.

Sighing, Khalid reached forward and adjusted the camera so it was tightly focused on his face. He turned to the two girls. "Keep working, but not a sound, from either of you. Am I clear?"

Both girls tearfully nodded.

Khalid pressed the activate button, and the image of Michael Taylor appeared.