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The Cry of Sodom

Book Two: Scroll IV

Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Sometime before sunrise, Imran could not find the comfort of sleep. The palomino stallion sprawled on a set of rich cushions layered with subtle tones of colour and delicate embroidery. They had cost him a fair sum in coin and other privileges on their initial acquisition. His sleeping quarters were seldom empty and this night was no exception to the rule as a female jackal and male jungle cat curled up together an arm's length to his right, the jackal with her nose buried in the crook of the feline's neck. Looking at them in the dim, silvery light of the moon and stars, he could not bring himself to smile, every muscle aching with pleasant, repeated exertion.

He chewed slowly and repetitively, marvelling upon the wonders of that potent drug_Khat_ and how it kept him in the realm of the waking even after such an exhausting celebration. The plant was fantastic. And, despite the resulting lethargy, it had been a wonderful party, hosted by a close friend. It was likely still going on, he warranted, in some form or another. Mostly because it had degenerated into an orgy, if the event itself had not been erotic enough to be considered an orgy already.

In alcohol-laced slumber, the jungle cat grumbled and wormed himself closer to the jackal, whose jaws snapped lightly in unconsciousness, perhaps nipping a dream partner on the throat. Imran rubbed his paw across the front of his throat; she had been fond of that during the course of their heated liaison. It had been more satisfying to make the cat yowl though, pounding his well-used tail hole.

Unwilling to allow sleep to creep upon him so soon, the horse swept his gaze across the room, taking in the row of small plants near the opening, which allowed cool air into the room. Without the woven blankets crafted from the finest paws, he would have been cold with such a thin, golden coat and a window opening directly on to the street below, but the chill rarely bothered him. Only sometimes would he fasten a blanket across the opening to muffle sound from the outside, but he was far enough away from the main city streets to enjoy the relative peace and quiet. The house was quiet but he knew that the servants were in the lower quarters, slumbering and waiting for the day to begin again, the cycle of work and sleep scant break for their rounds.

He frowned. As pleasant as it was to chew Khat, the bitter taste familiar, it sent his mind spinning, senses sharpened to the point that every sound set his ears twitching furiously. His sense of taste was heightened and he felt every tiny hair as he danced his fingertips across his thigh, fascinated by how the sensations played through his sifting nerves. Shifting into a more comfortable position on his side, his flaccid cock slipped over his hip, covered in dried semen and reluctant to return to its sheath. It did not matter if he did not sleep, but he wished the jungle cat would quell that little, rumbling snore of his. He could rest in the morning but rest would not be had if he could not succumb to darkness in the first place. His dreams were far from bright yet shockingly vivid, leaving him gasping awake in a dry sweat, twisted amongst the blankets. He shook his head. What was wrong with him?

His head lolled back on to the cushions and he stared at the flat ceiling, lips pressed into a thin line. He had everything. So why the dissatisfaction? Why the constant wondering for something that was not present and could not be named, sought or acquired? What did he want for? He had everything.

Turning his head to stare out the window, he thought back to another time and another place where it had all begun.

Having seen many suns, a younger Imran gasped for breath, flaked out across the same blankets in the same bed chambers, though he possessed fewer luxurious in his past. A golden-brown Calabrese mare clung to his arm, breasts squeezed into his side as she murmured, her thighs soaked with a delectable mixture of his seed and her own arousal. Turning his tired muzzle to hers, he kissed her tenderly and traced a paw over the curve of her hip to the mess between her legs, evidence of their tryst. He ached to thrust his muzzle between her thighs once more, to taste her, to ravish her. And he would.

But first, there was something he had to say. The stallion leaned in close, nibbling lightly upon her curved ear.

"I have an idea," Imran whispered, breath tickling that same ear.

The mare sighed and rocked away.

"What is it this time?" She rolled her eyes, whites showing for the briefest of moments. "You and your ideas. There is always something on your mind. What might this one be?"

He could not be dissuaded - he had come too far. Swallowing hard, Imran pulled her closer, refusing to allow her to roll away from his body.

"It's time."

"Time for what?" She drew her head back, ears pricked.

"I think it is time for us to leave Sodom," he said plainly, gaze searching for her immediate response.

Blinking, the mare did not say anything and Imran took her silence as his cue to continue.

"I want to travel," he continued, eyes taking on a dreamy cast. "To travel! Find a land new to us to settle and then raise a foal together. It's time, my dear, it is time. It has been time for too long."

For a moment, he dared to hope. Gracing his young muzzle with a handsome smile, Imran stroked the mare's outer thigh and waited, watching emotion flash across her narrower, more delicate features. Her blue eyes narrowed and she sat up, thrusting him away with enough force to make him grunt as she shoved into his chest.

And that hope was shattered.

"I can't believe you'd bring this up again!"

Imran's expression dropped and he reached out even as the mare slapped his paw away.

"My sweet, I meant no -"

"Oh, I know exactly what you meant," she snorted, slipping off the blankets, rising to her hooves and walking away to the window. "And I have told you a hundred times before, leaving this land holds no interest for me. It never shall."

"Is it such a terrible thing to wish to sire a foal with you?" Imran tossed the question without care, temper rising as he scrambled to his knees. "I want a foal! I have all the wealth you and I could ever desire, my business dealing have always been fruitful. What could you ever want for?"

"It is not what I would want for in terms of coin, Imran."

She leaned out into open space, taking in deep breaths of clean air through her petite nostrils, tiny curves at the tip of her muzzle. Imran hopped to his hooves, pacing up behind her uncertainly, willing his legs to move, to take him closer to her, while his mind screamed to flee. Sliding his paws around her slim waist, he drew her in close to his chest.

"Without Sodom, we could even manage to be with only each other -"

"No! I'll hear no more of this foolishness!"

She shoved him away, using her hooves to make sure he stayed well at bay, though a scrap from the hard surface to his leg would hardly hurt for all that long. Imran clenched his paws into fists and strained to relax them, meeting her frozen, blue gaze.

"I can support a family of any size for you!" He neighed, tail whipping the back of his legs. "I can give you anything you want. I have given you all of myself. What more is it that you seek? What more can I give you? Name it and it shall be yours!"

"It's nothing to do with what coin you do or do not have," she denied, folding her arms over her breasts. "I cannot manage such a life - you know this."

"You've never tried."

He was beginning to sound like a sulky foal himself but her expression did not soften one iota.

"It is not for me," she re-stated. "It is nothing I have ever wanted even before I begun spending time with you. Being a dam is not for me and restricting myself to one partner in the bed chambers..." She trailed off, shaking her muzzle incredulously. "Why should I ever desire such a thing? We have such variety!"

"Please..." Imran shuddered, pressing his muzzle into a trembling paw. "Please, don't do this to me again."

"You should have listened the first time."

The mare's eyes narrowed and she tucked a curl of her mane to the side, fussing over its appearance even as tears gathered in the corners of Imran's eyes.

"And the time after that," she continued, laughing a harsh, mirthless whinny. "And the time after that, and the time after that. You never heard me but my story stayed the same all along and my mind never changed. I made no pretence, Imran. You simply chose not to hear me."

Imran recoiled as if she had struck him about the muzzle. Leaning forward, he tensed his legs, thigh muscles quivering. It was hard to believe that only a short time ago he had held this mare in his arms and now she seemed to want nothing more than him a million leagues away. Anger battled with despair in the pit of his belly, sending the bottom of his stomach plummeting somewhere into the region of his hooves. Anxiously, his tail flicked from side to side, swatting away invisible flies, and the object of his frustration took a step backward, eyes suddenly wary. The taller stallion threw his arms in the air, reminding her acutely of their difference in size, though Imran would never raise a paw against her. Or would he?

"I thought you loved me!" Imran lashed out verbally, paws tightening into dangerous fists. "What is so wrong with you? What is so wrong with me? Please, I can give you everything you every asked for and more, I've said this a thousand times. You say you've heard me - why don't you understand me?"

Imran took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting to rein in emotion that threatened to spill over. Silently, the mare shook her head, willing him to say no more but he would not be stopped.

"Please," he begged in a tone so quiet that she had to strain to hear him. "Please consider my side, my love. I care for you more than anything in the world and you mean more to me than anyone else -"

"Stop right there."

She halted his verbal tirade mid flow, fist clenched and held before her body as she trembled.

"Do you not remember what I told you last time, Imran?" She sighed heavily, running a paw through her neatened mane to send it awry once more. "I told you and I know you remember. I said that I would never see you again if you brought up this idiocy about leaving Sodom, this insanity about keeping only one another in our bed chamber. No, do not speak." She held up a paw to silence him as his eyes widened and he blurted out an interruption. "You should have remembered. This was a line for me, a line that you trampled over and were well aware of. You shall never_see me again, you fool stallion. And you shall never have a hoof in raising_ my foal."

Imran blinked.

"Your foal? What do you... No! You're not?"

His jaw hung slack and the mare chuckled without any trace of amusement.

"Yes, Imran, I am carrying your foal already, you dim sighted fool," she spat. "You could have had that foal you wanted so much, but we both know what siring a foal means in Sodom. There is no obligation to have the sire play a part beyond sowing his seed. And you have done that job well, my dear. Very well, in fact."

"You cannot mean this!" Imran snapped his teeth together. "You cannot keep me away from my foal! I shall have my part in his life."

"Not if I keep his birth a secret," she retorted. "Who'll believe a raving imbecile like you about some mare that nobody knows carrying his foal? Everyone knows how desperate you are. It's pathetic."

"They will know," Imran insisted, though he couldn't imagine how he would convince anyone that the foal was his. "How low have you stooped, to hurt me so deeply?"

Throwing her head back, the mare laughed, arms wrapped around her torso.

"Oh, I've hurt you_, have I?" She shot back. "Nothing of me then? Nothing of my pain?"_

The stallion rolled his eyes and held his paws before him, palms facing up.

"What more could you want for with me?" He repeated. "I can provide everything for you and our foal. Just give me the chance and I will show you, I will prove it to you. Just give me a chance."

Opening and closing her mouth several times, the mare started to talk and gave up on each utterance in turn until a crazed laugh burst from her lips.

"This again? All that about providing for me when you never want to give me what I truly need! Why can't you respect me? Why can't you respect how I feel?" She screamed, mane tumbling wildly about her muzzle. "Again and again - you never listen! I don't want the life you offer! I'm happy here! In Sodom!"

"Stop it, you don't -"

"Shut up! I've had enough of your shit!"

Her shriek stopped him dead, ears pinned flat to his skull, waiting. But she had nothing more to say. Turning on her heel, she glared at him over the sensual curve of her golden shoulder. Where love had once burned in her gaze, now he saw only loathing.

"Have it your way, fool!" She snarled viciously, making a rude gesture. "This is the last you'll see of me."

In his desperation, Imran lunged forward, grabbing the mare's arm and digging his fingertips in to prevent her from leaving, searching for any words that would change her mind, have her back in his arms. She whipped about like a snake and struck him across the muzzle, leaving a burning imprint and the stallion blinking dully, head reeling. Stepping out of his reach, the mare made a rude gesture, standing in the doorway without even any of her clothes as she prepared her exist.

"Don't fucking touch me."

With that, she was gone, the last Imran ever saw of her golden-brown muzzle, twisted in hate. He stood stock still in the centre of the room, pale tale flattened over his rump as he rubbed something from the corners of his eyes. Not tears, never tears. He would not, could not, admit to that. She would be back, would she not? She had always come back before. But, this time, Imran knew in the depths of his gut that she would not return. He had lost her and his foal forever.

Hoof steps echoed across the courtyard, but he did not step to the window to watch her skulk away. Why? He could have all the questions he desired, yet they would never now be answered. He put his hands behind his head, tilting his muzzle back to stare at the ceiling, listening intently. Tap, tap, tap - hooves on hard packed soil were distinctive and he memorised every minute sound, locking the instances away in a corner of his mind for safekeeping. He may need them at a later date. Her hoof falls faded into the distance as his heart thudded, blood roaring too loudly in his skull as the room swayed and spun.

Nearby, a bird squawked, breaking the silence, and, once again alone, Imran collapsed to the floor and sobbed.