tkl-pen
1st Level Orange Feather
- Joined
- Dec 30, 2001
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THE CHRONICLES OF HORUS – VOLUME I
POLICE OFFICER JENNIFER WHITE
PART THREE
A panel in the stone wall of the large house of Horus Bahn Kor slid open to reveal the street outside. Jennifer White, the 21st century police officer from earth, and Horus, her captor, stepped out of the house into the street. It was a wide main street with paving of limestone, gravel and some sort of clay that made the surface as smooth and, indeed, quite similar to the asphalt paved streets she was familiar with. There were no sidewalks, as such, but there were various stores along both sides of the street. Looking to the end of the broad avenue, Jennifer could see a city wall and several large pyramids in the distance. There were statues in various places and, since it was evening, the street was fairly busy with people. The aroma of cooking and the smell of fire was everywhere.
“What place is this, Horus?”
“It is the city of Avaris, somewhat similar to the cities along the river Nile that you may have heard of, like Alexandria, Memphis, Thebes, Karnak and so on. This is one of my favorite places to stay and I have built a house here.”
“I thought Memphis was in Tennessee, with Elvis and all that.”
“No, Memphis was an important city in ancient Egypt. The one in the United States was probably named after it.”
“Of course. Where are you taking me now?”
“I thought that we would walk a little ways along the east avenue and then turn to a sidestreet that has a particular restaurant I like.”
“Why didn’t you give me shoes or sandals to wear?”
“Girls in this society go barefoot. Their feet are much prettier that way.”
“Then they’ll get dirty, though.”
“Yes, of course. Whenever you enter a building here, there will be a facility to wash your feet at the door.”
“So my feet will be pretty when I go in.”
“Yes, and so that you’ll feel refreshed. If you prefer, I can wash your feet for you.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll do it.”
“Ah, yes, here we are,” said Horus, as he turned into a side street with Jennifer.
“This street is so narrow.”
“In places like this, people built brick houses along narrow streets that allowed only enough room for access to their various doors. There are no vehicles other than ox carts and a lot of space is not required.”
“Horus Bahn Kor,” said a lady quite loudly as the two of them entered the eating establishment, “welcome.”
“Thankyou, Djabenusiri, this is Jennifer, a stranger to this land who is with me.”
“Is she slave?”
“She is not aware of that, but yes, at least until she returns to her home.”
“Is she on the list for tonight?”
“Yes, I think so. She has used some disrespectful language in my presence.”
“I see.”
“I want her to eat before anything else, though.”
“I understand, please follow me.”
“There you are, little one, sit beside me here,” he said as they reached one of the low tables in the restaurant. Horus sat down lotus style and Jennifer was about to do the same.
“No, child, girls don’t sit that way,” he informed her, “you have no underwear on and would be shamefully exposed if you did that. Girls kneel, like the others around these tables.”
“Why are we all sitting on one side of the table, Horus?”
“That way, the servants can bring our food and drink to us from the other side, we can see anything that may take place in the center of the room and we are in a position from which we can defend ourselves without having to worry about someone attacking us from behind.”
“Is this really a restaurant, Horus.”
“It is both a restaurant and a beer house, much like the gastatte establishments in Germany on your world.”
The food arrived at their table. There was roast fowl, fish, cucumbers, lettuce, a few other vegetables, fruits, and a large loaf of whole grain bread. To drink, there was a large ewer of beer.”
Jennifer was famished. She hadn’t eaten in at least ten hours. In fact, she didn’t even know how long it had been with the leap through time and space that Horus had taken with her. Musicians entered and started to play while two dancers, much like the belly dancers of the middle east but slower and more sensual performed in the center of the facility to entertain the diners. After their introductory performance, the drums began to beat with a more pronounced rhythm and one of the dancers did the very sensual and erotic pole dance.
“My God, Horus, I’m getting hot just watching her. It’s like she’s making love to that pole.”
“She is making love to that post,” he told her, “some part of her must always be in contact with that whipping post which must represent a lover or a master to her.”
“I don’t think I could ever do that.”
“Yes, you can, little Jennifer,” he said, pointing to the dancer, “and you will. Today I have already lighted new fires within you, even if you don’t know that they are there as yet. Observe and learn, Jennifer, for you will dance after the second girl is done. You, Jennifer White, police woman of Earth, will dance for me.”
“My God, you’re serious, aren’t you?”
“You will dance, little one, and you will dance beautifully. Let go of your inhibitions and your body will perform the dance for you.”
“What if I don’t want to do it, Horus?”
“Then you might be introduced to the other function of that pole – the whipping post.”
“Okay, I’ll try it, then. Don’t be disappointed if I can’t dance like that, though.”
When the time came, Jennifer rose to her delicate little feet, butterflies in her belly and her cheeks flushed with a crimson shade of excitement. She stepped forward, the bells that Horus had attached to her ankles jingling with each movement, sucked in her stomach, wiggling her hips in a deliberately slow and enticing manner, lifting her chin, moving to the center of the open area and the pole. Her knees weakened as she stepped into the sand before the whipping post, the two dancers watching with muted laughter.
She lifted her fingers to her face, carefully brushing the dark tendrils of her dark brown hair to the side. She put her arms up and arched her back, as she had seen the two dancers do earlier, thrusting her breasts forward and upward. Her heart began to beat more quickly. She became very nearly entranced. The music started and she instinctively began to gyrate her hips, slowly, seductively, teasingly. Soon, a whimper escaped out of her slightly parted lips, she writhes her entire body as if Horus was tickling her again, wriggling erotically against the pole she had even forgotten was there, becoming one with it. A surge of heat flowed through her entire being, sharp and soaring, fire with ice, driving her farther and farther into her sexual arousal. The muscles in her legs tightened as her dainty little toes raised and lowered in the sand.
Her chest rose and fell with her movements as low, almost whimpering, sounds of joy and passion escaped from her mouth. She was locked, trapped, held captive in complete bondage, confined within the ecstatic pleasures of her own mind. She gave into the unbelievable sensations. Her arms came down to slide her fingers through a messy mane of loose dark brown ringlets, lifting the curls up only to let them cascade downward again, a little rain of soft hair down the back of her neck. She lowered her arms to touch the softness of her belly, a nail grazing her fiery navel. She moans as her body quivers with need and she trembles to the touch of her own fingertips so softly moving over her aching flesh. She slides her hands across her swaying body, her hips moving in undulating, whirling motions, her mind overwhelmed with yearning, her nails digging deeply into her sides.
Jennifer wondered how she could let herself go so freely, how she wiggle worse than any stripper she had ever seen. She looked up, startled. She had forgotten that Horus, the other customers, the dancers, all had been watching. She cried out. An aroused sigh wailed from her breath as she sank quickly to her knees to crawl through the sand and along the warm stones of the floor beyond, kissing them. She breathed in deeply, her skin glistening and moist, her heart quickening as she ran back to her table, to Horus Bahn Kor. She lifted her deep brown eyes as she ran, the fluttering of the butterflies in her stomach heightening. She fell to her knees beside Horus, kissing him passionately, wantonly, brazenly.
“My God, Horus, what have you done to me?”
“I have awakened the passion, the fire, within you. Now, police officer Jennifer White, you are becoming a woman. You are starting to learn the intensity and the pleasure that lies within your grasp.”
“Horus Bahn Kor,” said two men who approached the table, “it seems that your girl is guilty of some improprieties that need to be addressed. She will come with us.”
“What’s going on, Horus,” cried Jennifer, “don’t let them take me.”
“You have been disrespectful to me, little one, in the tickling chamber at home. A number of young women will be punished for their improprieties tonight. Since you are a foreigner, you will be the first.”
“No, Horus, please,” she cried, as the two men took the crying, struggling, frightened girl to the center of the floor.”
The two men took Jennifer to the very pole she had danced with and forced her to stand with her back against it. They raised her arms and tied her wrists with cords behind the pole above her head. Next, they fastened several loops of cord around her stomach and behind the pole. They took hold of her ankles and lifted them, tying them together on the other side of the pole. Jennifer now hung from the pole, helplessly.
One of the men brought forth a pottery container with a thick paste in it. He applied that paste, a thick salty paste, to the soles of Jennifer’s feet. The other man came back in with a goat on a leash. In her present position, she couldn’t move at all.
“Horus, please, make them stop,” she cried, and then the licking started.
“Hohohohorus, pleaheeheeheese, aaaaaaaaah.”
Unable to move, Jennifer hung there in her bonds until the goat had finished licking the salt from the soles of her feet. By the time the goat was done, she was a sweaty mess with her dark brown hair matted to her tear soaked face.
The two dancers approached her and untied her ankles, lowering them to the ground so that she could stand on her feet. They tied them to the post. Then, they started to tickle her underarms, her sides, her breasts and her stomach, using their hands.
“Aaaah, nohohohooo,” Jennifer laughed as the girls continued to tickle her, and the two men brought forth other girls for their various punishments. When the girls tired of their activities, Horus was called onto the floor to release her.
“Come, little one,” he said, “it’s time to go home.”
At his house, Horus gave Jennifer a quick but thorough sponge bath, having her stand up as he did so. He dried her off with one of the thick towels.
“What now, little one, do you want to sleep?”
“I’m so tired, Horus, but I want to sleep with you. I want to sleep in your arms. I want you to hold me and to make love to me. I need you so bad right now.”
Horus picked her up and carried her out of the bath chamber to his sleeping chamber, with its great stone sleeping platform covered with thick furs. Jennifer’s skin instantly turned into a mass of goosebumps as soon as she felt the hair of the furs upon her.
“Well, Horus Bahn Kor, are you going to make love to me?”
“No, little one, come here. I’ll let you make love to me.”
She moved toward him, mounted his muscular form and lowered herself onto him, and gyrated her hips. Soon, she was in the most intense sexual climax she had ever experienced. Exhausted, she fell asleep.
When she awakened, she found herself in the police car, fully clothed in her proper uniform.
“What the hell,” she thought, “I can still feel him holding me and inside me.”
That, however, is not the end of the story. Jennifer thought that it had been some kind of weird, sexual dream. Perhaps she fell asleep in the police car for a few minutes and dreamt of the man she had seen that morning. At home, though, in the shower, she noticed the cursive H emblazoned in the skin of her upper lift thigh. She sank to the floor or the shower and cried.
