A God of Old Ch. 07

"I know the conflict within you," he said softly, "and it pains me that it is so strong."

"Master...can you not extend me mercy? I was not aware of the full extent of my duty to you. Had I been, I would not have taken up with Yussef."

"I am extending you mercy. When I first ruled, I simply took my priestesses, with no thought to husbands or lovers. But now, since I have been absent for so long, I cannot blame my priestesses for finding satisfaction elsewhere. As I have returned, so must you to your proper stations."

"And I am afforded no further mercy as your High Priestess?"

"You are still a priestess."

A lump formed in her throat.

"Master, please. I love him, but I wish to serve you."

"It is simple," he said, "you cannot be my priestess and be with Yussef."

Amina stared at him, a large part of her numb at this proclamation.

From a young age, her entire life had revolved around this man, around service to him, around preparing for his eventual return. And now, with her in the highest position underneath him, with his return to power near, he was presenting her with a choice between him and Yussef. She had spent more time serving the former than she had spent with the latter, but she had just met her the former, whereas she had fallen deeply in love with the latter, who had the advantage of actual physical presence.

To even imagine choosing between the two of them was agony.

Deprive myself of love or purpose...

"I can see that you are having great difficulty deciding. So I will give you time."

She nodded, still numb.

His hand reached up to cup her cheek.

"Take your time, priestess," he said softly.

They continued walking, Amina not quite paying attention to just where they were going. Her mind was wholly occupied by the choice her master had presented her. Even as she did her best to approach it rationally, it was impossible to choose.

Her absent-minded guidance led them to the Khan el-Kalili, not yet bustling in the late morning. Vendors were nevertheless enthusiastic in hawking their wares, from touristy trinkets to cheap street food. Enkartep was calmly amused by it all, striding smoothly along, only drawing glances occasionally, despite his strange garb and slightly inhuman appearance.

They were at the eastern edge of the market, Amina still caught up in her dilemma, when a gunshot rang out.

She turned to her master, dreading what she might see once her eyes found him.

He was standing there, a serene expression on his face, glancing down at a bullet resting in his palm.

And then screams broke out.

Amina looked around to see a dozen or so black-clad men rushing to surround them, each one wielding heavy rifles.

They fired, a hail of bullets striking the duo. Amina took some to the chest, shoulder, stomach, and thighs. Crying out in pain, blood streaming out from various wounds, she dropped to the ground. A dizziness quickly overwhelmed her; she glanced up at her master, standing there with his hands outstretched, the bullets now stopping in mid-air a few feet away from him.

As a darkness crept in quickly from the edges of her vision, she heard him speak.

"Rise, my priestess," he commanded.

She felt a strange numbness, and glanced down, expecting to see blood all over.

Instead, her skin was mending itself, the blood oozing back into her body.

The wall of bullets hung in the air between Enkartep and their attackers.

Suddenly, six grenades landed in between her and her master, shouts sounding from beyond the ring of attackers.

The six grenades exploded, the force more than enough to kill them.

But her master reached out with a hand, smothering the energy, dissipating it easily. His other hand gestured, his eyes not even on it, and the bullets slammed forward, driving into their attackers. The men dropped to the ground, writhing and grunting, felled by their own bullets.

And then eight more men stepped up just beyond the now dead attackers, wielding even heavier weapons, hoses attached to backpacks.

Flames erupted from the hoses, bathing her master in furious flames.

Her immediate fear was soothed by his calm chuckle, the flames abating to reveal him unhurt, even his robes unsinged. With a flick of his wrist, the flames turned, still roaring despite the attackers having stopped their assault. Once again, he turned their attackers' weaponry against them, roasting the eight men alive, their screams horrific.

More men stepped up with rifles; Amina heard the whirring sound of a helicopter.

Four in fact, approaching from different directions, each one quickly firing several missiles.

Most of those missiles turned back to the helicopter that had fired them, incinerating it quickly.

But one of the helicopters survived that conflagration.

Her master used its missiles to destroy the newer attackers, the dozen or so men having been paralyzed in place by an offhand gesture, rendered unable to fire.

The last helicopter was instead crushed in upon itself, her master extending a hand, forming a fist to finish turning the vehicle into a ball of sparking metal.

One last group stepped up, firing indiscriminately. Some of the bullets would have struck Amina, but they stopped in front of her in mid-air.

That last helicopter was thrown at this last group.

Three managed to dodge, the rest crushed or fatally tossed back.

Those three men came on despite their compatriots' failure.

Two fired their rifles, the bullets once again sticking in air.

Enkartep regarded them coolly as he gestured, sending the bullets back at them.

The last man charged them, holding a grenade in each hand, shouting an incoherent war cry.

With a lazy flick of his hand, her master pinned him in place, the subsequent explosion killing him instantly.

The end result of the carnage was a smashed market, with stalls in chaotic disarray, people screaming and running. Amina looked around, and did not fail to notice that none of those people had been wounded, something that she had no doubt had been her master's doing. It had been a quick and furious minute or two, but now that it was over, she could appreciate the power her master had displayed, how he had not only saved her from death, but had also escaped any injury himself. It had seemed so easy for him to manage the crisis, to turn the attacks against their enemies, to summon what power he needed without a second thought. She found herself feeling pity for their enemies.

Suddenly, the mess began to fix itself, stalls and tables flying back to their previous positions. Just as quickly, the people quieted, returning to their normal behavior, as if there had not just been a frantic firefight in their midst. The bodies of the attackers that had littered the ground disappeared without a trace.

Enkartep chuckled, and reached out a hand to Amina's shoulder.

In an instant, they were somewhere else.

The first thing that Amina noticed was that they were not far from the market.

The second thing was that a black van was driving straight towards them.

She dove to the side, turning back quickly, watching as the van stopped suddenly, feet from her master.

He stalked up to the side door, gesturing impatiently. The metal tore off with a screech.

One man threw himself at Enkartep, pointing a handgun in his face.

Another man leapt from the driver's seat, running away, huffing and panting.

Amina could see a third person inside, who was not moving.

The first man found himself with Enkartep's hand wrapped around his neck, while the second man found himself killed quicker, his neck broken, the loud crack making Amina wince. Her master stared up at his victim, the life seeping from him, his arms and legs jerking uselessly in the air.

She crept up to the van, and peeked inside to see the third man, foam spilling from his mouth.

A thud sounded behind her, and then she felt her master come up behind her.

"Suicide pill," she muttered.

Her master reached past her, hand outstretched towards the corpse.

"No," he murmured.

The corpse twitched, and then color ran back into its face, a deep rasp spilling out. The newly alive man noticed the two of them, and set his face resolutely.

Faster than Amina could follow, he drew a knife from his belt, and plunged it without hesitation into his neck.

As he died, gurgling wetly, Enkartep chuckled, his hand once again outstretched.

"Why the hurry to die?" he asked rhetorically.

The knife slid back out, the rent flesh fixing itself, the man uttering a grunt of surprise.

"Sleep," her master said, quickly reaching his hand out to the man.

His eyes closed, and he slumped back onto the floor of the van.

"Does the compound have a holding cell?"

Amina nodded.

"Let us return there," he said.

Once again, they were somewhere else, this time back at the compound, surrounded by surprised priestesses. In their midst was Salome.

"Take him to a holding cell," Enkartep told her.

She moved immediately to obey, bringing a few women over to carry the prisoner down to the holding cell.

"Our enemies tried to strike me down," he told the other gathered women.

They exclaimed in shock, glancing amongst themselves.

"But as they could not match me with sword and spear, neither could they with bullets and bombs."

Amina stared at him, amazed by how calm he could still be.

"Come with me," he told her, brushing past the other priestesses.

They headed back upstairs, her mind racing from what she had seen in the market.

"I was expecting that assault," he told her.

She gaped at him, taken completely by surprise, once again.

"You...you knew they would attack?"

"Yes. I wanted to see what they would bring to bear. As I had expected, it was utterly fruitless."

"Uh...how did you know?"

He smiled gently.

"I did not know what they would do, or when, or where. But I knew if I revealed myself, they would in turn reveal themselves. Now, not only do we know that they cannot match me, but we have someone important to them."

She was still at a loss for words.

"I apologize for not telling you, but I did not want you to panic. You were in no true danger, as you were with me."

The memory of almost dying came back to her. Overshadowing that pain and fear was the fact that he had saved her so easily.

They reached his quarters, and he led her back into his bedroom.

Suddenly, he drew her to him, kissing her fiercely.

"No, master, please," she managed to groan, pulling back.

His smile was still there, unnerving in its serenity.

"I always find myself in need of indulgence after such a victory," he told her, kissing her again.

Again, she pulled back.

"Master, I can't..."

He chuckled.

"Yes," he murmured, raising a hand, "you can."

A wave of sensations washed over her, catapulting her straight into a sudden orgasm. She fell back on the bed, groaning softly, unable to beat back the conflagrant pleasure, her back arching, her hips lifting, her pussy flooding.

As she drowned in the deluge, her master was upon her, her clothes flying off faster than humanly possible, her body suddenly on display. She was too distracted by the swirling storm of orgasm to stop him.

He maneuvered her onto her hands and knees. Despite the overwhelming strength of the pleasure, part of her screamed out to stop him, to resist, to demand that he desist.

But as soon as that orgasm ended, another took its place, further muddling her mind, leaving her deaf to the voice of her rationality.

His hands on her hips felt wonderful, as did the heat radiating off that cock, prodding at her folds. Moaning mindlessly, she reached underneath herself, spreading her soaked folds, eager to welcome him.

He thrust, spearing her, driving deep. A joyous cry erupted from her mouth.

A third orgasm tore through her. Her arms gave out, dropping her forward, her master quickly adjusting, rising up above her to plunge down into her sopping cunt. She curled her fingers into the bedsheets, using them to anchor herself.

That tiny voice inside her was still shouting at her, demanding that she take action, that she not humiliate Yussef by letting her master do this.

The voice was resilient, doing its best to remind her of her beloved.

But her master was powerful; a fourth orgasm, combined with the sheer pleasure that came from his prodigious cock, muted the voice.

All she cared about was her master.

They fucked furiously, her hips starting to work back against him, meeting his feverish thrusts halfway. She found the strength to get back onto her hands and knees. Her dark hair hung about her head, fluttering as she shook her head, disbelieving just how good she felt, just how deep the tremors reached inside her core.

The bestial grunts from behind her were like music to her ears. The knowledge that she was making her master feel good was intoxicating to her. She bounced back harder against him, luxuriating in how his balls slapped against her taint, in how his hands roamed across her body, one stroking at her back, the other sliding underneath her to squeeze at her full breasts.

The hand at her back moved up to take a fistful of her hair, and her master yanked back.

She cried out, her pleasure burning higher, loving how he handled her so effortlessly. The heat and hardness of his length filled her perfectly, driving with a fierce pace into her channel, stirring up more juices. A stream of those juices was trickling down to her thighs already.

Yet another climax washed over her. Her master fucked her through it, not letting up for a second. He yanked back on her hair again, making her squeal deliriously, his other hand still testing the ample flesh of her breasts.

With the smooth motion of his cock, and the feel of his hands on her, it was difficult for her to come down from the heights of ecstasy. Even when she did, another climax awaited soon after, turning her back into a quivering mess, leaking more juices out onto him. The harsh slap of flesh on flesh became a lewder sound, as her errant cream slicked his shaft and balls, making the constant impacts louder and wetter. She trembled through the orgasmic storm, sweat beading on her body. Once again, he yanked back at her hair, using them like reins, riding her harder. Her whimpering moans became ecstatic cries as her peak spiked even higher from his upped pace.

The orgasms kept coming, little time in between them, leaving her battered by the sublime pleasure. Her master was relentless, driving his length with a steady ferocity, delving into the depths of her channel.

She was vaguely aware that all of this pleasure was a result of her master bringing his powers to bear. She was also aware that there could be more of it lying in wait. If he so wished, he could unleash a storm of boundless bliss upon her, rendering her impotent in its unrelenting grip.

But he did not give her too much more.

A few moments later, his thrusts stilled, his member inside her to the base. A nearly imperceptible twitch shot up the length; she knew what that meant.

The first blast spurted out into her womb, flooding it with unmistakable power. The heat of just that initial offering was intense, making her shudder, pushing back at him. More spurts fired out, his thick seed soaking into what felt like every inch of her channel. She cried out to him, her pussy clutching at his shaft, milking it for further spurts, left far from disappointed as many more erupted forth. It filled her to the brim, quickly leaking back out, her master generous. Her own pleasure, in this moment an afterthought, was nonetheless deep and decadent, reaching every corner of her being.

She fought for breath, feeling so full, so suffused with his power. The ecstasy still reigned over her, but it was receding slowly. Her master's hands moved, both going to her hips, holding her steady. The full weight of his essence sloshed inside her.

Slowly, his length retreated. She whimpered, feeling it depart, still stimulating her drenched walls as it went. Once her pussy was left vacant, trickles of his load began to stream out. He moved away, letting her slump forward, shifting onto her side, watching as he shrugged his robe back on.

The sheer bliss that had gripped her throughout their passion was now receding.

Its gradual absence allowed her mind to slowly reclaim logic and rationality.

After a few minutes, the realization dawned on her that she had betrayed Yussef. Her master's power had been too much for her to resist, but it still had been her body, and she had allowed her master to use it. A sick feeling bloomed in her belly, the warmth of her master's seed now uncomfortable, a painful reminder of her infidelity.

"Master," she murmured.

He watched her impassively.

"I should not have done that," she said numbly, the sick feeling in her belly seeping out to the rest of her body.

"Why not?"

"I...I cheated on Yussef. I love him, master."

He shook his head.

"You did nothing wrong in submitting to me. I am your master, as you yourself declare."

Tears brimmed in her eyes. Along with the creeping sickness came a sense of dirtiness, her body having been marred by her master's insistence. She reached for the sheet, pulling it back over her nakedness.

Oh god, what have I done?

"Nothing wrong," he said smoothly, "you have done nothing wrong."

"Get out of my head," she whispered, feeling a few tears slip from her eyes.

It was a painful transition, from all-encompassing bliss, to this numb horror.

He walked back to the bed, frowning.

"You serve me, yes?"

She nodded, wiping away more tears.

"But not like this," she murmured softly, her mind flashing to Yussef, wondering how he would react, if he could find it in himself to forgive her.

"You would ask for forgiveness for betraying him, when he betrays his wife every time he is with you?"

Amina glared at him.

"It's different. He has no love with his wife."

"But he does with you?"

"Yes," she snapped, wrapping the blanket around her as she stood, moving to retrieve her clothes.

"His love is mortal," her master continued, "he cannot hope to give you what I give you."

"I don't want what you gave me," she muttered.

"You would reject such sublime pleasure for the talents of a mortal?"

"You wouldn't understand."

He frowned.

"What I do not understand is your devotion to Yussef when you have spent your life serving me."

She shook her head, pulling her clothes back on, doing her best to shield her body from his sight.

What am I going to tell Yussef? What can I even say?

A knock came at the door.

"Amina?" came Yussef's voice, "are you in there?"