This story is imaginary, although it is based on a footnote in a history book, and a fragment of a tablet discovered during an archeological dig, backed up by a little research.
*****
Ramun drank deeply from his goblet, and looked around him: the great chamber was filled with courtiers, priests, soothsayers, generals, astrologers, wise men and councillors, all arguing heatedly. Among them moved serving maidens, naked to the waist with only a brief wisp of material around their loins, offering delicacies and refilling goblets, and giggling as the occasional hand fondled a bare breast or slid up a smooth thigh, while guards lined the walls and fan bearers tried to circulate the heavy air.
The reason for the prevailing gloom was that yet again the rains still had not come - the crops had failed last year, and the granaries would soon be dangerously depleted, while the army of a neighbouring state, sensing the weakness of the kingdom, was massing nearby, waiting for the right moment to invade.
That moment would come when the people rose up against Ramun, their king - he also enjoyed near-divine status, worshipped and revered when the kingdom prospered, but, as he well knew, he was in danger of being deposed, and worse, if misfortune befell them.
The young king sighed - he had prayed daily, following the priests deep into the vast temple, making offerings to the gods and performing the prescribed rituals, all to no avail, and no-one could agree on the meanings of the signs and omens that the wise men studied constantly.
He held up his hand, and silence descended immediately, all eyes fastened on him, waiting apprehensively.
'Clear the chamber!' Ramun commanded, and immediately the throng began to back out, bowing obsequiously as they went, leaving only the guards, fan bearers, serving maidens and the chief official, to whom the king beckoned.
'Bring my mother, the queen, to me!' he grunted, and once more raised his goblet to his lips as the official bowed himself out of the chamber, and he idly ran his hand over the gleaming black near-naked body of the Nubian serving girl standing beside him attentively with a jug held ready to replenish the goblet whenever necessary.
Ahktar had been impatiently awaiting the summons from the king, her son, for three days: she was fully aware of the crises that beset the kingdom, and the threats they posed to the king, and therefore her own position. Her son was the product of her marriage to her brother, the late king, as was the custom. Her brother had been a weak, sickly individual, himself the result of generations of inbreeding, and it had been obvious that he would not live into old, or even late middle, age - it had been rumoured that his wife's voracious sexual appetite had hastened his end. Knowing that is was unlikely that her husband, her brother, would enjoy a long life, Ahktar had teased her son with her body and lips since Ramun had reached puberty, laughingly pushing him away and telling him he must wait, but allowing him to touch her and kiss her in a fashion guaranteed to increase his desire for his mother, and bind him to her.
On the death of her husband, his son had of course inherited her as well as the throne, and she soon increased her hold on him by raising him to unimagined heights of lust. She ignored his concubines and the wives of his courtiers that he took with impunity, knowing that he would always return to her, and she constantly invented new ways to arouse him. He, too, drove her to a frenzy, and she loved the way he used, and abused, her body.
She knew him better than he knew himself, and she had been sure that in the present critical situation he would need her more than ever, but her frustration had mounted unbearably as she had waited to be called, and last night she had taken two of her guards, all chosen for their physique and stamina, into her bed, and this morning her favourite body slave had pleasured her mistress with her mouth as she took her bath.
Afterwards, her hand-maidens had oiled and perfumed her body, giggling as she responded to the touch of their hands, then stained her eyelids with kohl and painted her nipples red, before slipping an almost completely diaphanous gown over her head, admiring the way it revealed her body and legs almost as if she was naked.
Now, when the vizier delivered his message, Ahktar moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue, and her hand rose to her breast, fondling it and shivering slightly at the thought of what her son might do to her. As she left the chamber her hand-maidens exchanged glances, knowing that they would have to minister to her and apply unguents, as well as their lips and hands, to the marks and bruises on her body after the king had finished with her.
Ahktar presented herself to her son, kneeling before him submissively, her head bowed; from behind lowered lashes, she'd seen him staring at her body as the light had shone through her practically transparent gown as she'd entered the chamber, and she'd smiled to herself.
Ramun leaned forward and reached out to grasp her chin and raise her head, and he looked down at her breasts and thighs, then slipped her hand behind her head and kissed her roughly on the mouth.
'Resist me, mother,' he growled.
No-one in the entire kingdom was allowed to meet his gaze, let alone put a hand on his person, and he gloried in the way his mother would fight him to the end, forcing him to eventually overcome her. It was more than just a game - she loved to be taken forcibly, but no-one in the land, other than the king himself, her son, would dare to ill-treat her as she wished. When they were in this mood she kicked, bit and scratched like an animal, but his strength would prevail in the end, and then he would ravish her savagely.
Ahktar stared at her son for a moment, and then, as he tried to kiss her again, she sank her teeth into his bottom lip, and he tasted blood as his nostrils filled with her perfume. He roared in pain and anger, gripping her breast, but she clawed the back of his hand with nails like talons, creating four furrows from which blood was already beginning to flow.He pushed her to the floor, ripping her gown as he fell on her, but her body was slippery with oil, and she easily evaded his grasp. She kicked at him and tried to crawl away, but he managed to grab her slender ankle - he knew from experience that if she escaped him she would barricade herself in her chamber, and he would have to knock the door down to get at her.
He dragged her towards him, tearing away the shreds of her gown until she was completely naked, and ran his hand up the back of her smooth, oiled thigh, and he heard her sharp intake of breath as he forced his hand between her legs. Then she twisted away, but he dug his fingers into her soft flesh and tried to pin her down He gripped her slippery breast, pinching her nipple between finger and thumb, but again she managed to elude him momentarily. He grabbed her arm, trying to throw her back onto the floor, but as he knocked her off balance she grabbed at his kirtle to steady herself, but instead ripped it off to reveal his erect penis, swaying as he grappled with her. Again and again her grasped her, trying to force her legs apart, but each time she managed to fight him off.
Ahktar was becoming increasingly aroused, and for a brief moment she fondled her son's penis, but then tried to push him away. They rolled on the floor together, now both completely naked, each trying to get the advantage, while the guards, fan bearers and serving girls stared impassively ahead, knowing that they must not watch what was going on.
The king managed to half sprawl on top of his mother, and take her nipple in his mouth as he pressed his penis against her outstretched leg, but then her nails raked his back, and once again they wrestled, both panting for breath, but increasingly their bodies rubbed together provocatively. He managed to kiss her fiercely, and she briefly responded, but then threw him off her.
Once again she tried to get to her feet, but he caught her arm, and she kicked him painfully in the ribs. He slapped her face and sliced her feet from under her, and then he pinned her face-down, flattening her breasts on the tiled floor, his penis pressed against the cheeks of her rounded bottom, and she wriggled herself against it provocatively and looked at him over her shoulder.
