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Oedipus Rex

Kadavro

Kadavro

Supernova
Joined
Apr 16, 2012
A prosperous kingdom.. The merchants still make a wealth of profit, and the scholars are just as prosperous as they once were. Most educated ones were bilingual in Greek and Latin. Art, Philosophy, and Education were of the utmost importance in these times. The architecture that spanned the prosperous vastness of their kingdom was lined with pillared homes and gorgeous buildings made of limestone. Pillars as high as the sky. Various temples here and there. A plethora of people usually had a place of worship within the walls of their own abodes. Be they small or a room dedicated to their deity or deities of choice. The Colosseum was revered and brought in taxes with ease. The marketplace was filled with merchants from various areas of the globe, bringing with them new and interesting artifacts from afar. Their government seemed to develop a political system that encouraged growth and expansion, with a local prominence on the attainment of military honours, as well as a sustainable system of provincial governors that precluded an unwise over-exertion of their military resources. Allowing them to easily overcome their neighbors in the past.

As it went for those lucky enough to be in the city. The rest of the population found it... Charming. Simply Charming. That was the only thing the Barbarians could say for the the Kingdom somehow placed under Queen Isis and her consort. They possessed vast land, though little seemed to matter outside of the main city. There were large buildings, but they simply took up land, spreading out rather than up, taking up large amounts of fuel to head during the winters and stormy seasons. When they didn't simply redirect the storms and cold away from themselves. Surrounding Her Kingdom were a multitude of other lands that had power vacuums or were fighting from the economic hegemony of the reprehensible Matriarchy. The women was married, yes, but she didn't seem to give up power to her husband. She just stodd there looking pretty while entire species were brought to extiction for the bread and circus that was the Colosseum, where the merchants paid their taxes not in gold or food, but in exotic animals and races for overblown prices.

But she never was the kind to let that get in the way of her airyness. She had one job. One simple job. Get a kid. And she had failed. She had two at least two official husbands and Kerong knows how many lovers during the past decades. But she could produce no heir. And now heir lands and the lands of her former husband were perched precariously, ready to fall apart at the first sign of her bad health. Her current husband seemed fine with it. Well, seemed in the past tense. Finding out that he or his offspring wouldn't manage to inherit the lands without an heir out of her had soured things. Was she sterile? Did she take some vow of chastity for her dieties? None could be sure, though the jokes about being in good with everyone but the dieties of childbirth and fertility were always spread about. There were prophecies, of course, requiring she have children and grand children before her so-and-so year, but as a similar prophecy had made for her first husband had came to nothing, it wasn't given much though. The Gods played many games with mortals, but they were known to have bluffed in the past. So why shouldn't it still be fulfilled? Gods can cheat.
 
Isis had spent most of the morning in a dimly lit room with hundreds of candles alight. Her knees were red from continuous pressure. Praying and praying in silence. Demanding no disturbance until she was done with her benediction. Otho had come back from the arena. His hearty deep voice sounding from beyond the doors behind her. Silently, she was at wits end. Every day, every night the hole remained buried deep within her heart. Buried within the deep recesses of her soul. The gods had taken the one thing she ached for and now deprived her of every chance she had to conceive another heir. A candle in the center of the alter was blown out before the the empowered female opened her eyes and stood upon her bare feet. A circlet of elaborate gold and coins commingled with her auburn locks. Seven gold bangles adorned one arm as a coiled cuff adorned the top of the other. With a soft sigh she turned on her toes and slipped her slippers back upon her feet before passing the threshold and back into the chambers of her home. In all silence, she was thankful to have avoided her husband's wandering eye. Otho had tried so hard to plant his seed and procure an heir. The fates did not have such plans for their Isis.

Otho was her second love. Second husband. A lively olive skinned, brawny male with eyes as blue as the clear sky. A charming man with words that could melt her heart... or put her to the utmost shame at times. Nothing that was ever expressed in the public. At times like this, even your home was deemed public. In silence she sauntered down the column lined hall and into a another chamber with a large round circle in the center, surrounded by men dawning lorica segmentata. Some were leather and some wore metal armor with leather beneath. A papyrus laid before them on the table top with an image of the troops and a list of names. All eyes instantly falling on the woman framed in the doorway. "Where are they?" Her voice chimed through the sea of male chatter. She spoke of her new foreign allies. They were to be presumed allies by the end of the meetings. Negotiations were to be struck and barters would be made. People beyond the walls of her kingdom to the power of her militia's support was offered on the table, along with a few merchant routes to spread the prosperous times.

A goblet of wine was offered to one of her opened hands. A calm and pretty face with a lax smile that grew when the arrival of her first guest was announced. A dark skinned man with a bright colored robe. A gaudy gold head piece and an intricately carved staff topped with a tree of life. The man was well aged with black tribal markings on the side of his face, openly symbolizing the deity that represented all earthly bound beings. The first of a select few to arrive. Behind a semi forced smile and the sweet hand gestures that welcomed her clientele to the her humble and lavished abode, was a well attuned female, reading the people who passed the threshold. Welcomed to occupying her mind on something other than her failure to procure an heir. Each guest brought along their own company. Guards, a wife... or two, a handful of soldiers, a scantly clad slave or servant or two. Otho would inevitably arrive, but in the end it was she who would speak and make the finally decisions. The power of a woman such as she was a one that few could understand. A tall and brawny male of a husband held very little power over the kingdom at her side. "Welcome... and please make yourselves at home. Any desires you seek within my power shall be granted. Drink and eat as we are not yet ready." Auburn soft ringlets cascaded past her shoulders. The sides of her attire left little to the imagination when it came to the smooth subtle and exposed curves of her body. In her mind, everyone was but a thread in the tapestry woven that was life. Everything had its place and purpose.
 
It had been a mistake to come. There were far too many soldiers about. And that was what the hairless man let be known to a guard. "There seem to be little chances that we will gain anything of worth from out of all of this so why are we here?" The Guard, scantly clad except for a scimitar and the mask of an of a crocodile. Why he was even in that getup was beyond the rest of the party. Sobek wasn't their diety, even if somewhat connected, nor was there any discernable practical reasoning for wearing the mask other than to cover his face. While the face was hidden, very little of the rest of him was. The body was tanned in comparison to many of the nobility of this regino who kept away from the sun, seeing the tanned or muscular as peasents who had nothing better to do than to work in the fields or to spend all their time at the gymnasium in the public baths. He wore on his wrists shackles with broken chains, ugly and rough in comparison to the scarab cameo rings.

"Because of His orders." The masked man reminded him, not wanting to go into details while surrounded by so many others, whether or not they spoke in their own language. They were to get something out of the meeting, that much was certain. Trade rights, rebuilding of a temple to Him that was razed around this city, demanding a sacrifice to Him by the Queen... It did not matter what, so long as they got respect from her. They hadn't had the best of relations in the past, their two countries and dieties. The locals looked towards a light god while his own saw life in darkness. When the river flooded and brought down precious silt, in compairson to the bonedry sands of white, swallowing up villages who did not pay proper homage. The Queen arrived, speaking as if she had any right to rule the place, all her self righteous believe in godesses aside. They didn't have problems with Goddess in the Soudan. What they had trouble with was them thinking themselves higher than everyone else, especially when they had done little to actually prepare another king to rule. They could accept that though, as it meant a lesser chance of their enemies combining forces. And so they waited, ready to try any threads, mind control, or other methods of extortion and control to get what they wanted.
 
Isis was forthright with seldom few people. Some were easily charmed, whereas other needed to be taken straight to the point. Those who could see through her charming and sweet visage as a gorgeous female. Other leaders commingled with one another, discussing their barter and partaking of the wine and other refreshments and snacks that had been provided out of courtesy. The emerald eyed woman seemed to make her way through the ranks of various people. Some she disliked and some she did not mind bartering with. Differences aside, this was all about business. A business with the added bonus of preventing blood shed for all parties involved. Taxes would be paid for their services and Her people would see to whatever demands that were not beyond their comfort. Already a school was promised and a few trade routes had been opened up. A long bearded gentleman name Jhad placed a kiss upon her hand and bowed himself out of the room.

Her guest, were of course, more than welcome to stay for the time being. There was certainly plenty of room for all. The person in the odd mask caught her attention with ease. While high with power, she was still one for manners. Isis was well educated as any scholar and was ready to see this through. They were not on the bet of terms with these people. They couldn't be anymore different. Even now her head began to throb as she neared them. A well placed smile on her lips. Her creamy skin, contrasting with that of the tanned stranger. "I am glad you were able to make it." Somewhat of a lie. "Now, what brings you here? The militia... a trade route?" The last offer was hesitant to leave her lips and with a good reason. She was not desperate for their acceptance. Quite the contrary. She could care less for them. Isis would simply push to the back of her mind of their brutish deity. "A temple.... perhaps." Her heart stopped for what felt like an eternity when a large firm hand came to rest upon her hip. A tall figure casting a shadow over her. "Ah. Otho, you made it my dear husband." With that she was given a kiss upon her cheek before the brawny male was pulled away. "So?" She continued on.
 
Were they really so stupid as to have discussions taking place in public? To have dignitaries treated as if they were tributaries bringing their fealty and treasures to lay down upon her feet? Having everyone coming, but then snubbing some of them... That spelled trouble in the future. The snubbed might make fine allies in the future. Though maybe those were the wrong words... Adequate accommplices would fit them better. Seriously though, a school? For what? Having their histories of lies crammed down the throats of those wealthy enough to go and to eat at their language and cultures? The mechanisms hidden in the mask to zero in on certain sounds let our 'hero' know how well this was going done with certain mubmling dignitaries. The echos and increased volume from the crowds did frustrate him a fair bit though, causing him to grimace.

Then the Queen came there way, dressed like a harlot, even if one of the less disease free and unlikely to ever get morning sickness. She was attractive, no doubt, but she spoiled it with her keeping to the wrong sorts of temples when she could have better used her body to please the right kind of gods. Maybe they should try inviting her to their land and having their own fertility gods reclaim her. But then the husband who couldn't deliver came. 'Made it? Didn't they live together?' The masked man asked in his native language to his comrades, a mild throb coming to his head as he looked over the woman's body, his trailing eyes hidden. The throb was unsual, but he just set it aside as being from all the echoing from when he spoke, and waited for the head of their delegation to tell about whatever. "The temple would by fine, Your Grace." The bald man assured, not caring much to have any of this city's army in their lands. Using 'Your Grace' though... Might not go over so well if the Queen realized they were using the translation for her original title before she married her first husband. A mark of shame for those without heirs.
 
Otho eventually got into a heated debate with one of the clientele. The topic? A deity. It was bound to happen and Isis would have been rather shocked if it didn't happen at least once. The woman made a habit of leaving her husband out of her habitual and political affairs. The man had his own people to command and see over in a different land. The people within these walls were her pride, her joy, and the seemingly endless results of battles with tears and bloodshed. The tittle that she was bestowed by the foreigner did not go unnoticed. The reigning and resplendent times when the late King Sethos stood by her side. Times of ignorant bliss and suppressed memories. A long sighed was rendered from her soft pink lips. Everything and everyone had a purpose. The Sisters were her saviors and nothing would veer her of of her beliefs.

Liquid heat ran through her veins and the calm and subtle visage was proving more and more difficult to keep up. "A papyrus shall be written out and more details will be brought up. In the mean time please, make yourself at home. I have a place for you all to rest your heads should you wish me to take you there now. Our home is your home." A lanky male appeared at her side with a limestone slab and a stilus at hand. Documenting the agreement and jotting down the arrangements, along with the others. Isis was ready for more time of isolation. Something very rare for her. Always within anothers presence to either judge or be judged. Beneath the curtsey and the calm tones, there were some seriously pent up differences. Were everyone as open and as raw as a festering wound, all hell would break loose. The ruckus with the debate seemed to subside and the the feeling of her husband's fingers ghosting across the skin of her spine caught her attention. "Otho, please, if you would see to everyone else...." Her hand was taken and a kiss placed upon the smooth surface. His beard scraping along the sensitive skin and ceasing her words. Isis happened to miss the glare that those blue eyes had cast at the masked man that stood before her as she humbly took her hand back. "Please... follow me, I will see you to your rooms."

Otho harbored hatred far greater than his powerful wife. The true harlots that he had sampled early that morning, as his wife knelt in prayer, did not bring him to ease. Watching as Isis walked away. Years had gone by and still she appeared a young maiden, though she truly was not. Had age taken its course and rendered her unable to produce an heir? The male was ready. Ready to make the proposition. Soon. He had thought it over and over in his mind. His son... yes, was not the fruit of Isis' loins, however it was the closet she would get. The land would be in Otho's name and Sethos' blood would end with his death as well as Isis'. This topic could not go untouched. Bedding the lovely woman seemed to lose its spark time after time. Action had to be taken.
 
Strange. Extremly strange. What on Gjrodia was going on with those two? The women kept the dull talk going on, seeming to have some longing or stress from the mention of her old title. Was it that she had been insulted by it enough times to brush it off. The group simply watched and waiting, takin in what they could without getting the guards too riled up. The cuts of their clothing, the any movements to spread or close her legs when her consort touched her, the catcing of adam's apples in the throats... They had little to do besides spy and they were to make the most of it while they were there.

The papyrus was not to be trusted, of course. They had different languages. Different definitions. And having only one copy of something spelled bad news. They would see to it that a copy of their own was written, all ambiguity in there favor, and that they had many witnesses. They would want to try getting public proclamations out of it as well, of course. When the local rulers broke the agreement it should be in a manner to most discredit them in the eyes of the other dignitaries. The men bowed lightly to the Queen, wondering if she knew where there lodgings were at this point in time, and followed when she left. The masked man considered the woman for a bit, wondering if there was some other reason for her doing this. Fake an attack on her? Get grounds for war in the eyes of the other dignitaries and stamp on their trade and temples? If she tried it... She wouldn't survive it. And it would be unpleasent for her.
 
The walls were lined with servants and guards alike. Life fluttered within these solid and sturdy walls while lies and secrets commingled in the air. Hidden amongst the seemingly mutual conversations of its various occupants. Isis would be damned if this was not seen through. It was now, that corrupt thoughts idly wandered through her mind as her feet guided her to the final destination. Thought of trying out another suitor. Did Otho truly think that she would not notice the stench of those disgusting juvenile tramps before he came back to his wife. It was a matter of moments before she found herself standing before a set of double doors. The doors were easily pushed open and a revealed a soothing oasis of a room. A square shallow pool in the center of the room. Her people lived a very communal lifestyle and weren't afraid to expose their bodies. While some baths were segregated, many others weren't. Woman dawning gold coined skirts that hid little of their shapely legs and a matching top that led little to the imagination stood around the room with thin veils concealing their lips and chins and bringing more attention to their eyes. Several held fans and other held platters of food and various beverages in pitchers. Several beds adorned the room with draperies tied back for the option of concealment. A small alter in the corner with no signs of devotion to any particular deity. Simply an alter and unlit candles.

"Dismiss the servants, whenever you wish." Another noticeable trait of the women were the thin metal anklets upon their legs. Signalling their 'ownership'. Letting anyone know who this person reported to or worked under. A doorway opposite the one that they had entered led to the garden that Isis had prided herself on. A place she could often be seen wandering. "If there is nothing else you require, then I shall leave you to relax. In the morrow we shall write out the agreement." As always, she had her suspicions. These people were not easy to accommodate within her own household. The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife, despite her efforts. A dirty history was partly to blame. Their wretched deity was only partial. It would come as no surprise if the altar was not used. They probably would think it tainted, something Isis cared little about. Paranoia reared its ugly head. Her husband was no where in sight and the people that remained were easily swayed, if not had down right refused their offer. No sweat off of her brow. The Fates would see to that. Isis sauntered over to a high back chair and took a seat like a normal person with a different air about her. "Just one thing... what is it you truly want?" They both shared bad blood and it was better to release what bit of tension they had.
 
Really. Had they no ideas of their own? It was as if they had been evicting the populace from their temples so as to have a bunch of sluts pretending to be Medians and the Farsi. Was this some sort of test? Food with bowel releasers? Women with puss filled interiors? They would test them out, of course. They would need to make sure that they could have their way with the servants without creating some diplomatic incident, but they would make sure to enjoy themselves while here. No business would be done with the women in the same room, of course. The walls and floors would be tested for cavities and tubes as well. And some table with canles? Was that some sort of a joke? It seemed that they had come across the Queen's bedroom, with the reasons for her lack of children clear to see.

And now she strutted towards a throne, tall and hard backed, looking harsh against the silken cuurtains and delicate ladies all throughout the room. "What are we to use the servants, for?" The masked man asked as he walked behind the chair, leaning over the top and peering down. He hadn't much issue with the symbolic shackles on the women's ankles, as he had some on his wrists, his own ankle ones being hidden under the large boots used to protect his feet against some of the rougher traffic in the city, as well as to keep them dry. There was very little chance of getting ill from wetting your feet in the River back home. Here, though... A bit too cold for his taste, sunshine or not. "We want a lot of things." He answered her as he got a look down her dress. AS he wasn't the official leader he decided that he might manage to say some things that the others could disavow. "Trade, respect, territorial integrity, some of the more attractive men and fertile women...." Though it might have been better to clear out the slaves first and to have checked the walls.
 
"What ever you see fit. As long as no damage is done to my ladies, they are more than eager to please." In response the woman moved a tad closer to their guests, with bright and tempting smiles. Her eyes remained focused on the other men as the masked one circled behind the high back chair she now occupied. His voice ringing down from behind as he spoke of their interests. Of course that had a lot of wants. I did not necessarily mean that she would grant them all. Trade was easy enough to come by... if you have the coin purse. A trade route could be opened, but she would not force merchants to venture into their territory unless they wished to. How could she not laugh when they requested more attractive men and women.

"How quaint. You speak to me of fertile women and more attractive men? Give me your fertile men. For my wants are far less than yours. I would give my kingdom for a son. You speak to the wrong person for such requests." It was blunt, yes, but she was rather tired of beating around the bush. How she longed for a son. A child to leave her land and all its splendor to. "You keep to your worships and I shall keep to mine. Aside from that, were are not too far different. You truly know little of me, as I do you. Save for my lack of an heir. I seek no political scandals to fill my times, so you need not worry. As I said... we shall discuss this further, on the morrow." The noble woman was quick to leave her throne as the women began eying their prey. Such hungry deviants they were. Oh so loyal, as well. "Good day to you." She chimed as she walked out the exit and to the garden. Some much needed fresh air was what she needed. She had gotten ahead of herself back there, and probably relayed more information than what was necessary.
 
Interesting. It seemed that the Queen really was down in the ruts about not havnig kids. "So, any of you know which fertility god or godess to get?" One of the men asked as he examined one of the women left for them. "She might be willing to give something other than her kingdom even if we got her a daughter." They all knew that there would be some issues with female offspring. It would be far more likely that whoever married her might manage to join them with another kingdom. A son though, would allow the Queen's realms to expand with more marriages. Pity they didn't seem to have harems for keeping their neighbors princesses in line, though it might have been just as well. This Queen would probably take the Princes, leaving the other areas without leadership, all thinking that they were the father of whatever child she might get. Which would actually be pretty clever, if she managed to keep them form having other children. Maybe they should try that on their own...

The men looked, but did not touch. Oh, they looked. But the priests amongst them held them back. "Nothing carnal. We need to consecrate the room." They brought out black silt that they had transported from their sacred river, spreading it in the pool with some seeds for reeds. Brass pans were brought out to burn incense in while the women were moved to the side. "Should we help with her offspring or leave it be and pray for civil war?" One asked while the women were lined up by the alter, now decorated in glowing symbols as the silt formed a channel to it, formering a smaller stream. "You don't know how many of them speak our language." The bald man snapped back, knowing the usual ways that diplomats were spied on. Pretend you don't know the language, have slaves acting stupid, the like. "LEt us just get on with the sacrifice." The masked man told them before he approached the altar and began to fertilize the women one after another.
 
Isis abhorred these times. Such trying times made her head ache, which was never good for her health. Sex was always used as a means of release for tension, and Otho, no doubt adored having sex with his wife, when she was truly into it. The warmth of the sun licked at her flesh as she walked through the garden. The scent of budding flowers surrounding her. Those miscreants had managed to get under her skin and it absolutely irked her. The thought of a son was all that seemed to keep her sane. A soft hand resting over her empty womb. She heard the moan of a woman from nearby. Isis dare not find out the source. More than once, she had caught her husband without his knowing of it. A small rest was what she required. Upon foot she turned and headed to one of her own rooms. The sun spilled from a square cut above the bath that sat in the center of the room. A bath that was basically a knee deep square pool, big enough for twenty. The doors were shut and the servant women within her room began preparing the bath. Signaled by Isis stripping off her garb. The sun above warmed the water. The girls sat around the edge of the bath with a goblet of wine and waiting to be ordered.

The creamy canvas, that was her body entered the water by a foot, followed by another. The light and warmth of the sun, licking at her exposed flesh. She submerged herself entirely, for a moment, before emerging with her long raven mane plastered against her shoulders and down her back. A fan of lashes opening to the light of the sun from above. Such a soothing feeling. A knock sounded upon her door. A fine set of thin veil of tulle curtains was untied between the bath and the front door. The image of their nude Lady was easy if one tried hard enough to look. "Enter!" She yelled while rinsing her skin off. One of the elderly Nobles entered with a bow and Isis heard the hesitation in his voice. "P-Pardon me, but we will be parting now. Our Goddess calls for us." Isis had already sealed a deal with them and had no qualms if they left or stayed. "It was lovely doing business with you Emanuel, you must visit again. You are always welcomed." Her voice was kind with a hint of flirting, and as she looked up, she could watch as he turned his head to avoid her gaze. There was certainly nothing to be ashamed of. "Good travels, my friend." He parted the room without a word and Isis resumed her relaxing bath.
 
"Why must we spread your seed here?" One of the group's guards asked while assiting in rubbing down the masked man's body in oils, with the care usually given for mummifying a king. Which basically meant just slabbing the stuff on and scraping it off. The oils had musky scents and seemed to be regathered from the masked man's swet and fluids that dripped down as the pans of incense warmed the room, making the man's chest glisten. "Our people populate the world someday, though we may need to resort to using these slaves instead of the daughters of strongmen." As the guards raised the legs of the slave infront of him a funnel of sorts was pushed into her cunt to widen it for the penetration. "All with our blood shall know deep within themselves who they should worship and who blessed them. It is our duty to make sure there are enough to bring there goddesses to their knees."

As a scribe rubbed oils under his balls and slid his loincloth away, the masked man slid a hand down his back. "Or there backs. So long as dominance is established." He stroked the back of the other, one of whom he had "trained" with when there were no available females about not needing for work. The other moved away as the masked man began to thrust into the slave, moving roughly as his large cock stretched her cunt, blocking the escape of any of her fluids. A musky scent came over the room mixing with the oil melding with the sweat and the burning incense, getting people into the proper mood. He spent the next hour slamming into the various women and somehow managing cum for them all as the texture of his skin seemed... Different somehow. While it was hard to put one's finger on it, the skin just seemed to go with the mask, which had now seemed far more realistic.
 
Isis was cleansed and emerged anew from her bath. Her lovely figure emerging from the water dripping and glistening with remnants of water. The women began drying her off as she stood at the bath's edge. From her legs to her the mountainous globes of flesh upon her chest. Another gown similar to the other was dawned. A circlet was placed upon her head, that placed a round emerald in the center of her forehead. Mimicking the color of her eyes. An ivory comb run through her long damp locks. Isis had a bit of a small gathering to prepare for. Inviting only her closest female friends. Ones that she could easily blackmail They would do almost anything to get into her good graces. There were five golden masks. Each depicting a goddess. This evening was going to be marvelous.

Otho was going to be venturing to the village of Rathgar to visit his son and tend to his own people. The venture alone was a fortnight and then he would probably stay for a night or two. The silhouette of her body was easy to see in her attire. The sides revealed that there was nothing more to the garb than what anyone could see. Once dry, she ventured into the halls once more. A feast was being made for all those who had stayed thus far. A feast fit for the gods themselves. A battle between her finest warrior and a promising new brawny male would take place for those who wished to see. Minos was revered for his victorious battles. The man truly had the body of a god and and the looks and voice to bring any woman to her knees. Even Isis. Tonight was his night. For she owned him and to keep his pay, he was to follow her will and command. Word to all the nobles that lingered was sent that a feast would soon be ready at sunset.
 
"Well, aren't there more?" The apparent avatar of the Soudan's river god ask as he took his seat on the alter, balls slick as and hairless as oranges as he relaxed, waiting to see if there was any more for him to do that night before his diety was satisfied. He had hair, of course. It was natural. He simply obeyed his diety's wishes and those of the priests in having his body mostly hairless. He had managed to keep the hair on his head as well as his eye lashes and brows, but that was it. "Have the guards find another group." A voice came from the masked one's body, not entirely his own as the mask's snout seemed to move. By this time the room was much like home, with reeds filling the water, which had flooded over the edges off the pool and make half of the room into a lake, though beneath the level of the chairs and couches.

"Have them bring in a new round of slaves and servants." He demanded, drinking wine while having his back massaged by one of the men. "And keep them coming." His will was done in a manner. They told the guards about the need for more women, but something else of interest came up. "Son of the River, there is news about a 'Feast fit for the Gods'." The quotations marks were fairly obvious in the voice of the bowing man, eyes cast downwards and away from what may very well have given him his children, nephews, and nieces. Virgins in their land, newly weds, those reaching the age of childbearing... One being tended to get first dib, both on the bride and groom. The crocodile mask looked down on him, considering things for a moment before waving to his own servants. "Get out the good ornaments." He had himself cleaned off his sweat, though the musk still lingered, and had his erection brought down by the experienced mouths of some of his men before being redressed and heading out.
 
The early arrives were already knee deep in the wine and as jolly as ever. The female servants were occupying laps left and right. Music sounding through out the hall. Various foods lined the tables and some danced. Food said to help fidelity. Dance to worship another's god. She had taken into account the wants of her guests and their deities. One of the elderly men took a hold of Isis' hand and twirled her and went on to the next female he could find. Laughter rarely sounded from her lips and it sounded like music to those who did hear it. To those who did not know, she was a rare treat. To spread her legs for any other man, other than her husband, was not on her addendum. As time seemed to pass by, her love of Otho was not as it was with her first husband. Now her only vendetta was her son.

The woman and men feasted while others continued to arrive. Some were even getting intimate upon the chaises that laid about. It was a prosperous sight. The gold of her attire shined in the candle light. The scent of arousal thick in the air. A woman dawning a feather mask cupped Isis' cheek and snaked her hand down the curved of a voluptuous mound and down further. All Isis could do was dawn a lax smile. She turned her head in time to see one of the last of her guests to arrive. Only the fates would know that Isis' blood son had walked into her company that very day. How cruel could they be. To have her despise and loath them, yet comfort them in the walls of her own home. This evening had started off well enough. Let's see how they would play things out. She had no secrets, no plots of revenge. For once naive was bliss and once she would happily accept, for this one night. The men's performance would not happen until much later into the night.
 
This was more like it. The tanned men walked into the room, less dressed than many had been when they arrived at the comparitevly cool climate. The guards among them moved off to find or make room at some tables. People of noble blood, people of import, decked out in gold, lots of empty bellies... He would need to find a way to get some of the men pregnant as well, or at least to have them pass on their seed to the women. Some servants seemed attractive enough, so he grabbed pair, one male and one female, taking them to his cusions where they would feed him. He had little wishes to be discreet at that mmoment. If anything, it would be best to draw attention to himself. It wasn't as if there were others dressed as gods, anyways.

There was something to be said for the human mouth. You could speak with it, whistle, chew, holding something without breaking or swallowing it... And kisses. It was somewhat difficult to kiss or tongue with a snouth. Still, the hands did well enough to make up for it. The party chatted amongst themselves at to some of the delegates from neighboring countries, hands brushing over those of the dignitaries they favored as they gave each other meaningful looks to meet somewhere private before talking about what the party was for. Some fights apparently, with the winner to get a few women in masks. Seemed like it could be fun, though five women seemed a bit much for one normal person, unless they were allowed to share them or have them for a bit longer than one night. And it went on.
 
Isis watched him, the masked man as he grabbed a man and woman. The sound of goblets toasting and the vibrations of moans swimming through the air. The dew began to glisten between the folds of her sex. A sweet aroma apparent to her own senses. No male dare touch her. The 'forbidden fruit'. No seed could truly be planted within her and take to life. Which brought about the question... why did not more men flock to her for such a thing. Otho bore a son, from another wife, and since the consummation with Isis, he bares no more children. She takes a man's seed and bares no fruit. Such a hearty and healthy man such as Otho should be able to produce a babe in any woman. Isis was his undoing. Her beauty is a curse and the price is said to be dear to any man. Such rumors flood her village.

Lady Isis stood at the heart of the soiree and clapped her hands and two men were brought forth. The brawny Minos who glistened in sweat from his training. Talos was lean, but less built. More agility to his moves. Both men dawning only roman loin cloths that held a generous abundance of a package. Minos had a head of hair you could lose a hand in, while Talos' was shaved clean off. Both men proudly showing their sun-kissed skin. Fighting and training beneath the beating sun. Men placed wages, where woman marveled at the sensually sinful sights of the the men. As the men too their places in the center of the room, Isis whisked the women away and handed each their mask. It was more a reward for the women. To sample the winner. Each taking her own turn. A thrill many women would seek. Isis was rather... hungry for attention, or rather... her body was. An idle hand roamed the soft curve of her bust and slid down and came to an abrupt stop upon her waist. The urge to depart was great. The deed could be done alone. She knew this very well.
 
And the Queen was ignored. The Soudanese had no real issue with her at this time, as they found the company of each other and some of the more exotic ambassadors to be far more fulfilling. "How do they decide who fights?" One of the men asked while eyeing the men, searching for any weapons. "Are they wrestlers or just acrobats?" This got a few looks, as acrobats tended to be far... Nimbler, to put it in a way. Large muscles and freely dangling privates hardly helped in contortions and balance. "Do we get to fight the winner? Like in a tournament?" The prize seemed good. Nothing worth a king's ransom, but enjoyable enough. "Probably just ugly women under the masks." It seemed possible, though their bodies at least were good. Nice quality clothe as welll. "Let us just watch." The masked one said as they settled done to see what would happen.
 
Isis ignored the idiotic questions. Each man was given his choice of a weapon. Both settled for for brass knuckles. There would be less blood with these. "Sit back and enjoy the show." She announced. An ornate gong was struck and the mean began sparring. A female noble from Kapul stood as Isis' side. A hand ghosted up her arm and the fan lashed sun kissed woman came up behind the Ivory skinned high noble. Red painted lips ghosted over the curve of Isis' neck as words of promise were whispered into her ear. Chills danced across her skin. She tuned on her heels and faced the woman that sought her attention. Her own slender fingers caressed the curvacious bust of the sun kissed Kapulian. Those red plump lips pressed pressed against the curve of Isis' neck. Hot breath spilling forth and onto the creamy skin. Soft pink lips sat again as a soft sigh escaped her own lips. Both women enthralled in their own little world as the men fought. Droplets of blood flying here and there.

Kisses trailing down her neck and and hands caressing her own body. Her scent was intoxicating. Of course Otho was not here. Isis had not planned to become intimate with another person. Her hunger was pushed back far too long and if, by some miracle, she managed to gain a child in the progress, it was a blessing. "Sophia... have you me my friends?" Her emerald eyes turned and gazed at the masked male that copulated with a few random guests. Taking the lovely woman's hand nd guiding her over. A wave of roars sounded as Minos nailed a blow and have the new blood on the ground. Sophia was guided over to the man and licked her lips in a luscious manner. "How... hungry." The sun kisses woman chimed. "But Isis..." Sophia's tongue sample the skin of her hostess' neck. "My... my.... your are forbidden fruit... but by choice?" Isis licked her lips at the sight and raked her nails down Sophia's back and summoned a sexy growl from those red lips. A sample of what only one person had access to. "Yes Sophia.... enjoy." She threw them a lax smile and sauntered off. Her adviser, Userus would see to the remainder of the celebration. Into the hall she wandered and into a nearby room. The guards were all busy at the soiree. The two clips on top of her shoulders that held her attire up were taken off and her dress fell to a pool of fabric at her feet. A bed sat in the center of the room with a thin veil surrounding it. Her nude body crawled on all fours to the enter of the bed. A cylindrical pillow was where she rest her head, for the time being. Her nude form laid out like a sacrifice to the gods. An idle hand drifting across the skin of her bust and to the dewy folds of her sex. The door was ajar. Everyone was merry, celebrating, and copulating within the main square of the house. Isis had a hunger than needed to be satiated. Pent up frustration and stress that had be swept away one way or another.
 
There was testosterone to be sure. Sweaty men, semen, blood and spit.... Why they used brass knuckles instead of wrestling was beyond the Soudanese party reckoning. Why bother holding back with blade if you are simply going to punch the metal into the other? They noticed the Queen feeling up another woman but put it out of their minds as they looked over the somewhat unappetizing orgy. They would need to be more selective the next time they chose people for the dogpiling that was occuring. It may have looked like they themselves were staying out of everything, not allowing any thing phase or touch them, they had infact gotten some highborn women under the table and were chatting with their husbands. The women had been given there instructions. Keep moving around. Make sure everyon'es cock stays semi erect without erupting. Get kicked if their cocks go down. Get exposed by the sound of ejaculation if they do too much, as well as being covered in cum.

The masked man stayed out of that, though. He instead kept with some of the younger or more attractive of the husbands. He played up the diety part to the extreme, allowing them to joke around and pretend worship as he fondled and rubbed them, pulling a young priest's acoylte into his lap, where his cock grew beneath the other's legs, disguised by the robe as if to suggest the acoylte himself had the arousal. A pretty big one at that. "So, this is how all guests are treated here?" He asked while bringing bowl of wine to the acolyte's mouth. "Any chance in having those two fighting each other to join us later? I don't doubt they will need a good bed to recover in."
 
Isis drowned out the noise and a finger sought to quell the hunger that burned deep within. The tip of her finger curving to the most elusive spot that ignited ever nerve from within. Breasts rising and falling with each heavy breath. A free hand cupping the voluptuous flesh mounds upon her chest and tugging at the taut peaks that responded to her arousal. Raven tendrils scattered like a halo upon the surface of the bed. Her back arched as the tension in her lower belly grew to a tremendous height. Her breathing turned jagged and soft lewd noises escaped her lips.

At the same time, Minos roared and took a final swing at Talos and the smaller male fell to the ground unconscious. Blood spilling from his nose and lips. He spit up some blood and the room rang with cheers. The five woman in the masks swarming the male and all is sweat glistening splendor. By the time Talos was hauled off, to get his wounds fixed, Isis was mildly satiated and put her clothes back on and walked into the vast room to discover her challenger victorious. These women were ready for their dues. The lithe lightweight would be patched up and seen to. His rations cut until he was able to live up to Isis' standards. Meanwhile she summoned the sweaty and bleeding brawny male and her kneeled on one knee before her. "Congratulations Minos.... Ladies?" She gestured. "Please..." She voiced to the crowd, "Continue and no.... the is a private matter and cease your acts with my slaves and servants. You have tainted enough within my home. " With those words she escorted minos to a galla room with a large bath and a bed. Leaving them to do as they pleased throughout the night. Isis went back to the main room of the house where she was utter shocked.... to find Otho. Her eyes were wide and her feet refused to obey her wishes as he approached her. "Otho, You could not have made it to your village in such time."
"I did not... something told me to come back, and I am glad I did my lovely wife. Come warm my bed for me." He growled while holding a tight grip upon her upper arm, causing her to wince. The heavy stench of ale upon his breath.
 
"-And so then I had my hounds pounce the fox and won a ducat for myself!" Polite laughter went around at the stories of one of the older delegates at the party. The masked man wasn't there, though, having went off to the side to plow his daughter and much younger wife. "You two haven't been getting much attention, have you?" he growled in between switching pussies, which he pounded in abt out of interchangibally. "Maybe you and your friends should come vacation in my land sometime. We have wonderul temples for helping with child birth." He held them down, then came into both of them. "I suggest you hurry there quickly, before your husbands find out." He squished a lemon he had been holding. It had been meant for preventing pregnancies, but he wasn't going to be having any of that.

"You two were great. Get some daughters for me, alright?" He patted them before heading off to find people he hadn't banged yet. He discovered to his great pleasure the loser from the fight and proceeded to overpower him, claiming his ass for his own. "Tell anyone and you'll never work again." Leaving him to try tto clean out his ass without anyone noticing he passed two rooms and needed to make a decision. The King or the godesses? He decided to try out the winner of the fight, and barged into the room before Minos could knock up anyone, then proceeded to attack and subjugate him.
 
Otho was certainly not in his usual state. If she had to wager a guess, he was at the brothel this entire time. Along with the scent of ale, there was the sweet scent of sex that differed from bouquet that wafted about her home. She removed his fingers from her arm with ease and wandered over to her right hand, giving him orders to see the remaining guest to their rooms as they grow to drunk to get there themselves. The party could continue on without her, for the time being she must see her own husband to bed. Taking him down a hall to their own room where her husband closed the door and proceeded to ravish her much rougher than he usually would. All the while being completely oblivious to Minos being taken down with ease in the room of the masked women. The women backed away from the harsh take over and clutched at their garb as they watched the disturbing alluring sight of the brawny male being put in his place.
 
"So, been here long?" The masked man asked with with his exotic accent while pushing Minos to the ground. He continued to shove him around for the next few minutes, wrestling his fists behind his back whenever he tried to fight back. "You seem to be familiar with this room and the company. Maybe you have overstayed your welcome?" The mask winked at the women before he proceeded to grab Minos by the balls and squeeze until he stopped trying to struggle. "It would be a shame to castrate a bull such as yourself, though. You make a far better sacrifice to me." He threw him onto the ground after the oil from his chest rubbed onto Minos as their nibbles brushed over each other for their audience. Putting a foot onto the fighter's back, he began to pour oils down onto the other's ass, as well as onto his own cock, now exposed and standing proud. "Would you five like to help loosen him up? I am taking my rights to enslave him rahter than kill him, but he'd wish he was dead if I went unlubricated."
 
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