All characters involved in sexual activities are over 18.
I'm hoping to make this a series. Let me know if you want more.
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My name is Leo. Actually, it's Leonidas Hadi. This is the story of how I became a Temple Dog. No, it's not derogatory, it's an ancient title. It means I am as loyal to my goddess as a war hound.
This isn't a quick story, and I have to begin a while before I was born, so bear with me.
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Part 1
1991-Archaeological Ruins of the City of Uruk
The young man was in the desert camouflage uniform of the U.S. Army, his name tag reading Zacharius. His attention shifted between focusing on their surroundings, the ruins being investigated, and one of the prettier students assisting the archaeologist surveying the ruins.
The surroundings were spectacular. The stark beauty of the desert, with the rich blue of the sky, hazed by dust down nearer the horizon, could easily take one's breath away. Likewise, the ancient ruins they were at were a lasting testament to a city that was incredibly large for being around five thousand years old. Some of the structures could almost still be imagined to still be in use, except for the lack of ceilings.
Corporal Zacharius could happily explore these ruins for the rest of his life. It was impossible to look around and not imagine what daily life would be like all those centuries ago. From what he'd heard the archaeologists say, the workers, at least in the beginning of the city's history, were paid in beer. That didn't seem like a horrible arrangement to the young soldier, although he did wonder if the heat was as oppressive then as it was now.
He could easily imagine being a soldier in those faraway times. Training in the use of the spear and bronze sickle sword, armored only by a thin shield. Marching forth to do battle against the armies of opposing cities. The usual vivid daydreams were happening more and more often now. He could hear the cries of the officers berating young soldiers for sloppy spear work, or other drills. Hear the clatter of spears against targets, wooden training swords clashing against shields.
He sighed, coming back from the daydream to again scan the surrounding desert, making sure no elements of the Republican Guard had snuck up on them in the wide open desert. Nope. No tanks. No soldiers. No roving bands of looters come to find relics to sell on the black market. The offensive had ended a few months ago, so there was hardly any enemy military left anymore. Just lots of sand, ruins, and the dig team.
After six weeks, he knew all of them by name, and despite Dr Anderson's initial dislike of being forced to work with "warmongering destruction happy myrmidons", most everyone else actually came to like the squad that had been assigned for security, though if the truth were told, the corporal didn't mind being called a myrmidon. They had been some badasses, according to the Iliad.
Unlike what had happened at ruins of the city of Ur, these soldiers actually seemed to respect the ruins, and would not debase or vandalize them with graffiti. Eventually, one of the students snapped at Dr. Anderson for his disrespect and demanded an apology, to which the old scholar blushed and actually DID apologize. Just because he was the dig's lead didn't mean he had to be a miserable son of a bitch.
The one who snapped was Akilah Hadi, the same student the corporal had been stealing gazes at for some weeks now. Born to Iraqi immigrants in Illinois, she grew up in Chicago, where her father had worked at the Oriental Institute of the university there as an archaeological processor, and her mother was a nurse. She had dark skin, like cinnamon, luxurious black hair, and a tight body the young corporal couldn't get out of his mind. Her family was...not Muslim, so they had immigrated to the U.S. to avoid the stigma from their neighbors once it became known publicly, according to what she had said in response during a conversation with the corporal her second week at the site.
She was 21 years old, stood 5'7, her weight around 130lbs. Her piercing jade green eyes seemed to look into a man's soul. She was a 32B bust size, and had a delicious muscular bubble butt wrapped lovingly in her Khaki pants. Her arms showed a muscle tone that suggested weight training. The corporal often wondered if her legs were as toned under her pants. There was a tattoo of a dove on the left side of her neck. It looked like the doves the corporal had seen on some of the inscriptions around the ruins.
She seemed to stare furtively at Corporal Zacharius as much as he stared at her. There had been some light flirting between them, but Sergeant Jackson usually shut it down before it went longer than a couple of minutes. If the corporal wanted to continue his tutoring in the subject matter of Sumerian and Babylonian history and cuneiform, the sergeant had made it clear the relationship had better remain professional.
It frustrated Akilah. She was very interested in the corporal. While he WAS handsome, at 6' and 175 lbs, with his closely cropped brown hair, dark tan from the desert sun, and his dreamy hazel eyes, it was another quality that held her interest. His mind. At 19 years old, he seemed sharp as a razor.
She was frustrated by the sergeant, but not deterred. And definitely not stopped from her holy duties to her Mistress. What nobody else in the camp knew, not even the corporal, was that his nightly study sessions in Sumerian culture and cuneiform also included some energetic and incredibly loud lessons in anatomy and biology. Namely HER anatomy.
The corporal seemed to soak in information like a sponge, he had picked up an amazing amount of knowledge about Babylonian, Assyrian, and Sumerian history while standing as security for the dig site. She thought he might have an eidetic memory, but on the occasions she was able to ask, he would blush and say that it was just really good, not photographic.
He was embarrassed to admit that he had sharpened his memory by reading and rereading role playing books until he could recall almost everything in them. It got to the point that he only had to read a book or hear a fact once, and he remembered almost all of it. If he wrote it down, it was there for good.
Corporal Jeffrey Zacharius, Jeff to his friends, Woody to his squad, loved all information. He lived to learn, and read whatever he could get his hands on, except for women's mush books, as he jokingly referred to his mother's preferred reading. He'd joined the Army for the GI bill to help with college, and had been taking courses on his own time before being sent across the world to Iraq.
His squad name was Woody because whenever he got into combat, for some reason, he sprouted an erection. They had laughed about it, but they had also admitted it was a bit intimidating for the guy you were fighting to be so happy about it that he was sporting wood.
The lovely young Ms. Hadi had offered to teach him about her own area of study. Every night he didn't have duty, he visited her tent to continue learning. He loved his study sessions with the gorgeous woman, and wished he could study her body in addition to the tablets and artifacts she had been using to teach him.
Unbeknownst to Jeff, he had studied her body. In great detail. As was the almost nightly occurrence, as he soaked in the information she offered, he unwittingly also soaked in the pheromones she was releasing. As his arousal was piqued, he started to generate energy that modern science hadn't thought to even question the existence of. As it was generated, it was pooled into the local web of sexual energy, adding to it and mixing with it.
Akilah took some of this energy, siphoned it, and molded it. She released it, creating a barrier that would not allow any soundwaves to propagate beyond the edge of her tent, and would make any person intent on entering the tent walk past, forgetting what they were there for. Then, she focused a bit more into Jeff, making an alteration to his brain that would not let any memories from this point until she was done form in his brain. They formed, but when she ended the effect, they would not be stored in his brain. They went to her Mistress.
For what purpose, she did not ask. She served the Mistress. Her commands were to be followed, not questioned.
She didn't make him forget, she just didn't allow the memory to take hold. She had done this most nights for the past five weeks. She was truly enjoying her study sessions with the young soldier, but wished she could allow him the memories, too.
She wished she didn't have to keep their trysts secret, but her Mistress ordered it, so it was done. She knew why it was done, but she also knew the Mistress had not told her everything.
It was a shame. She was realizing she loved Jeff. Truly. Deeply. In addition to being smart, a great conversationalist, and in wonderful shape, he was an attentive lover who derived more pleasure from her orgasms than his own. It didn't hurt that he was impressively girthy, too.
