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Empire of the Ancient Sands

Part 3 - Source of the Nile

Ai grinned, shaking the bottle of spray-paint, listening to the comfortingly familiar metallic noise. Before her was a great wall-painting, thousands of years old, showing various pharaohs and gods. And, of course, tiny little 'ordinary' people, placing offerings before both. Another day, another symbol of society's chains to deface. Destroying religious art was her passion - those monuments to the age-old oppression of the poor by the rich, the common by the noble, and women by men. Ancient Egyptian Art, however, had a special place in her heart, and not just because she'd been born and raised in Egypt - they were also thick with additional symbolism.

The old Egyptians hadn't understood things like 'perspective'... everything was a flat, 2D layer. So the size of objects and people denoted their relative importance, not how close they were to the observers. Tiny human figures, bowing before gods and kings painted as giants. And what gods they were - animal-headed and bestial, so well conveying the way women had always been victimized by the animalistic urges of men. This one in particular - his picture was all over this old temple in Aswan, sporting a green head with long, curly horns. Goat or ram? Didn't matter. Either way, he looked more like a biblical demon than anything else, and both animals had been symbols of lust for ages.

Licking her lips, she took another quick look around the darkness of the old temple. There was no-one else there, no night-watch or guards, only a couple of old security-cameras she'd already disabled. The anonymous admirer who had contacted her online had clearly been right about the shoddy security around here. Returning her attention to the wall-paintings, lit by the wide-beam flashlight she'd carefully positioned on a crumbling bit of wall, she narrowed her eyes as she planned out her work. She'd start with her chosen 'nom de guerre', right in the middle. 'The Anarchistic Iconoclast', or Ai for short. However, as she lifted the spray-paint, she heard a rustling behind her... and before she could react, blackness enveloped her as a sack was pulled over her head, and her arms were wrestled behind her back. Her cries were muffled by the cloth covering her mouth, and her struggles were soon stopped dead by the painful electric jolt of a stun-gun.

Martine LaCour walked briskly, her high heels making loud, tapping sounds as they hit the concrete. She was trying hard to ignore the way the abandoned, industrial buildings loomed around her, and the nervous way her security-detail were looking around. The professional bodyguards, all decked out in black suits, black shades and little white earpieces, were a regrettable necessity. Ever since the new clothing-plant had gone online, death-threats had been pouring into her office, along with more moderately-phrased complaints about the pollution of the 'sacred Nile'. Such foolishness. People wanted jeans. People didn't want to pay too much for jeans. Production of jeans created industrial run-off from the treatment of the denim and the dying-process. Those were simple facts.

Another fact was that, as Branch Manager for Egypt, it was her job to minimize costs and maximize profits. Her annual bonus and continued rise through the ranks of the multinational that employed her depended on it. And if it was cheaper to bribe a few officials and inspectors than to install the legally-mandated filtration and safety-equipment, well, then it was her duty to USE those options. But of course, rather than blame their government for failing to enforce the rules, or her bosses overseas for putting her in that position, the people blamed HER - loudly, and with many epithets. The fact that she was a woman in a country clearly still stuck in the stone-age with regards to gender-equality didn't help matters, and mixed in with the death-threats were other, more colorful threats.

At least she had something nice to distract her from it all. Her old secretary had resigned following the debacle over the factory, citing concerns about his personal safety, but it hadn't taken long to find a new one... and this young fellow was definitely easy on the eyes. His face looked like it belonged on a pharaonic bust, he was always neat and freshly-shaved, and his muscular buttocks filled out his dress-pants DISTRACTINGLY well. It was enough to make her regret that basic formality required that he walk a step behind her, rather than a step in front of her. Soon, once she was sure he'd settled in, she'd pull him aside and instruct him on how he could earn a quick raise...

But right now, she needed to keep her head clear. This old, long-abandoned industrial park near the shores of the Nile would make a perfect site for a second factory, and its owner had expressed an interest in selling. She didn't have a lot of viable offers available at the moment, since most of the local companies were scrambling to distance themselves from her after the PR-troubles the first factory had caused. Her main worry was that the seller would be aware of this, and would try to push the price up accordingly. If she could squeeze a good deal out of him, though... that would be yet another feather in her cap, and yet another step closer to leaving this godforsaken sandbox behind, and maybe getting a position back at the Corporate HQ in Paris.

She spotted the seller ahead - a swarthy-looking fellow with a big mustache and a rumpled suit, surrounded by a couple of men dressed in work-clothes and hard-hats, pointing at a clipboard and making comments in loud Egyptian. When their boss saw her coming, however, he shushed them, and they obediently stepped back as he put on a large, obviously-fake smile. "Ah, Miss LaCour! I am so glad you could make it! This place, it looks good for your use, yes?" His English was slightly broken and thickly-accented, but she had no trouble understanding him, and nodded curtly. She was already opening her mouth to reply, when an itching sensation in the back of her head interrupted her. Her instincts, sharpened by years of corporate infighting, cried out that something was wrong. The man looked just a bit too happy to see her. The 'workmen' beside him looked just a bit too neat, and a bit too nervous.

Before she could cry out a warning, however, pandemonium ensured. The explosive sound of gunfire echoed amongst the walls of the abandoned buildings, and her bodyguards cried out in pain and shock as they fell over with bloody flowers blooming on their chests. Bright lights illuminated several of the broken windows of the surrounding buildings as snipers fired. The two 'workmen' standing by the mustachioed man's sides pulled compact SMG's out of their innocuous-seeming toolbelts. Her hand, moving more by reflex than by conscious thought, darted towards the pocket of her pantsuit, and the panic-button she'd kept there since the first death-threats started to come in.

A firm grip on her wrist stopped her, and then wrested her arm painfully up behind her back, making her gasp in shock. Looking over her shoulder, she saw her handsome secretary, grinning unpleasantly as he gripped her shoulder with his remaining hand, holding her still. A ringing silence reigned in the abandoned industrial park now, the last echoes of gunfire dying away. Her bodyguards lay dead behind her, and the two 'workmen' now approached her, pulling a black hood and a pair of handcuffs out of their toolbelts, firearms still close at hand in case they were needed. "I believe this concludes our business, Miss LaCour. The pleasure was all mine..." Her last sight before the black hood was roughly pulled over her head was of the mustachioed man in the crumpled suit, grinning broadly at her.

Ehsan Mahmoud fidgeted as she waited for her contact. She always felt nervous when meeting a new buyer for the first time, regardless of how much research she might have done beforehand. This time, however, there was even less reason to worrythan usual. After all, her by-now regular clients included several international and local crime-syndicates, and her new contact - being an adoption-agency - had to at least maintain a VENEER of respectability. They were also far less likely to be armed than her usual clients.

She took a deep drag of her cigarette and tried to relax. It was just another deal, and once it was in place, there would be more money in her pocket, and more space in her orphanage. Better yet, these people had expressed an interest in taking some of her YOUNGEST residents off her hands - those screaming, blubbering little larvae that her criminal contacts didn't want. It made sense, really. The groups that were after transplant-organs needed them fully-grown and healthy, so they were mainly after young teens. The prostitution-syndicates were after much the same category. Even the ones who trafficked in children for rich perverts wanted them old enough to walk and take orders. Nobody really wanted the toddlers, which was a shame since getting rid of them would make the orphanage SO much quieter.

But an adoption-ring who shipped children overseas for the rich and childless? They'd want them as young as possible. Adopting parents tended to want kids young enough not to remember ever having any OTHER parents, after all. Really, it was a wonder she hadn't thought of it before. She had, after all, been running her various businesses for many years, turning the children the state heaped on her head into a steady profit. With the instability of the political climate over the past several decades, there'd never been a shortage of 'merchandise', and if anything the number of orphans had only escalated. Her miserable funding and personal wage hadn't, of course - but that was fine, too. A few well-placed bribes ensured that she didn't need to worry about 'inspections' and whatnot, so she didn't need to spend much of her budget on those squealing little parasites, and could use the rest to supplement her pay.

She glanced up as someone sat down in front of her, on the other side of the small table she occupied at the run-down little sidewalk cafe where the meeting had been arranged. A moderately-attractive woman in her early 30's, wearing western garb that said "businesslike, but not opulent". Yeah, she looked like the manager of an adoption-agency, all right. She let her eyes pan over the rest of the cafe before she spoke. Not much of a crowd, which was not surprising so late at night. Nobody was paying any particular attention to her or her guest, and the guy behind the counter had his back turned, apparently working on the aging coffee-machine. Clearly, he was a new hire.

"Madam Mahmoud, I presume?" The other woman broke the silence first, and she nodded, curtly. "Indeed. You're from the adoption-agency, correct?" To her surprise, the woman shook her head with a slight smile. "Oh, no... I'm afraid your 'contact' from there won't make it. She's... otherwise engaged. To be specific, she's busy shredding and burning all your correspondence, and generally erasing all indication that the two of you were ever in contact. Once she heard what else you've been up to, she decided that she didn't want to do business with you after all..."

Feeling an icy sensation creeping up her spine, she darted her hand into her purse to grab the small, compact handgun she always kept there - a little gift from one of her Russian contacts, given as compensation when they came up short on a payment. But before her hand could close on the handle, the woman in front of her raised HER weapon and fired. Ehsan only just had enough time to register that the weapon wasn't a firearm, but a non-lethal 'taser', before her body arched backwards in the grip of powerful muscular contractions, mind blanked by electric agony. She felt her chair tip backwards, only to be stopped before it hit the ground by two pairs of strong hands.

As the taser-induced convulsions slowed, and the two hooked wires that had been shot into her body were painfully yanked out, she found herself pulled from her seat by two burly men that had previously been sitting at a nearby table drinking coffee. As she looked around, she realized that the man behind the cafe's corner hadn't reacted to the sudden fight breaking out, and that the rest of the guests were either just grinning at her, or moving towards her in an undeniably ominous way. The woman who'd just shot her simply put her tazer back in her purse and walked away without another word.

As one of the other 'guests' pulled a black bag over her head, she realized why she'd been so nervous. She'd been to this cafe several times before, whether for a covert meeting or just a quick coffee, and she'd noticed any number of other regulars. None of them were there tonight. Everyone in the cafe had been an unfamiliar face, including the staff. She'd always selected public or semi-public places for her meetings with clients, for the safety this would provide - but that safety had been an illusion. It had probably taken a depressingly small bribe to convince the owner of the cafe to close it for the day, just so they could reopen it in time for her arrival, filled by their own people. Whoever 'they' were...

In a canyon, hidden deep in the vast expanse of mostly-uninhabited desert that stretched from the eastern shores of Lake Nasser to where Egypt turned into Sudan - an arbitrary line on the map, largely ignored by the desert animals - a weather-beaten old truck was shuddering its way across the sand. In the back, hands and legs tied and watched over by a pair of armed guards, sat three women, none of whom had known each other before they were all unceremoniously tossed into the back of the same truck. One was clad in a sweat-stained pantsuit, another in traditional Muslim garb, and a third in a torn, sleeveless T-shirt and artfully-ripped camo-pants, both seemingly designed to show off her collection of tattoos and clash violently with her blue-and-pink dyed spiky hairdo. None of the women spoke. They had all learned that asking questions wasn't welcomed by their captors, and had no desire to provoke the armed men further. They also didn't really know what to say. They'd all already tried the usual questions of "Who are you people" and "What do you want with me" earlier, and been rebuffed with silence and angry glares.

When the rumbling truck finally shuddered to a halt, they were herded out the back, and found themselves in what looked like a mostly-abandoned archaeological dig. The stumps of long-collapsed pillars poked up through the sand, and a couple of floodlights illuminated a square passage leading down into the side of the sandstone cliffs, casting stark shadows in the twilight semidarkness. The only people in appearance was a couple of workmen who seemed to be in the process of packing up some leftover pieces of equipment, and an stunningly beautiful woman clad in an elegant, modern-day interpretation of traditional, cotton-white Egyptian garb. She was standing in front of the unearthed passage, tapping her foot impatiently, but she cheered up when she saw the three women.

Martine's eyebrows rose as she saw the woman. She'd met her before, somewhere, of that she was sure. The kind of corporate infighting she engaged in on a daily basis necessitated a keen recall so that you knew who to suck up to and who to stab in the back. Her mind whirled, leafing back through memories, eager to pounce on a problem it could actually solve. Finally, a vivid memory popped up. An art-gallery fundraiser in Paris. A beautiful, Egyptian artist specializing in ceramic sculpture. They'd been briefly introduced, and she had glanced over the girl's work, reflecting on how such a pretty girl could create such grotesque art. The girl's name was right at the tip of her tongue...

"You're... Tahia! Tahia Sabri! What are you..." That was as far as she got before one of the guards behind her hit her in the small of the back with his rifle-butt, sending her tumbling forwards into the sand, unable to even slow her fall with her hands tied behind her back. She tucked her head in and tried to roll with the blow, protecting her face, but she couldn't stop herself from landing in the deep sand, and briefly panicked as it covered her mouth and nose, choking her. Then a pair of firm hands pulled her back up to her knees, spitting and sneezing. It was the girl, looking down at her with merciless eyes. "That is not my name any longer." Her voice was as clear and musical as she remembered it.

The guards appeared behind her, and hauled her the rest of the way to her feet. She was barefoot, her high-heeled boots having been confiscated after she tried to kick one of her jailers. Tahia - who apparently did not care for that name anymore - was still looking pitilessly at her. "If you must call me by name, Martine LaCour, then call me Satiah. I left my old name behind when I took my current position." Quickly, Martine nodded. She still had no idea how a moderately successful artist she met years ago in Paris could've wound up working with - and apparently leading, considering the respective demeanor the armed guards had towards her - this band of lunatics, but she definitely didn't want to provoke her.

As the guards pulled her back alongside the two other women - who eyed her suspiciously now - 'Satiah' swept her gaze across all three, and then nodded. "Before we continue, I will tell you why you are here, and what awaits you. And since Martine does not understand Arabic, and the rest of you DO understand English, we'll do it in this language. Understood?" All three women nodded, eager to finally get some answers. Ehsan was used to dealing with international syndicates in (somewhat broken) English, and 'Ai' had spent enough time on the internet - which was, after all, still mainly in English - to be intimately familiar with the language.

Satiah's hand swept across the three of them in a broad gesture. "All of you have committed crimes in the eyes of the gods. In fact, each of you has trespassed against one specific aspect of one specific god. He sleeps beneath us, even now... at the end of that passage." She pointed over her shoulder at the dark opening in the mountainside, which suddenly looked twice as ominous as before. "You will go before him to be judged. And because he is a merciful and benevolent god, he will most likely give you a chance to redeem yourselves. Should you fail to take that chance, however, your lives will be forfeit - your bodies and souls rent asunder."

Normally, all three of them would have scoffed at the thought of 'divine punishment'. But here, in the midst of the desert, at the mercy of fanatical lunatics, standing before a freshly-opened tomb... they shivered as one. Not that they really believed that they were about to meet a god, of course - that was ridiculous. But the idea of meeting some kind of vague 'judgment', with death on the menu should they fail to 'redeem' themselves, was bad enough - whatever REALLY awaited them down there was unlikely to be good. Satiah, however, merely nodded, apparently satisfied that the message had been received, and gestured to one of the guards. He quickly stepped forwards, handing the well-maintained AK-47 he carried over to her, and she used the weapon to point the three women towards the shadowy passage into the mountain. "Now, you three... get moving."

The four women ventured into the tomb alone - the three prisoners stumbling ahead in front, while Satiah walked behind them, holding the rifle in one hand with the stock wedged under her arm, and a powerful flashlight in her other hand. The flashlight provided poor illumination, with the three women in front of it throwing long, solid-black shadows, but the floor was mostly smooth, so there was little to stumble on. After a while, a shoddily-built series of ramps led them around the edge of a dark pit, as the tunnel reversed back underneath itself. The noise of the desert wind above had soon faded and disappeared, and the only sound that could be heard in the ancient tomb now was their footsteps, and their increasingly rapid breathing.

At last, the passage ended, in a large, square chamber with a high ceiling. The walls were featureless, bereft of the wall-paintings that were normally found in ancient Egyptian tombs and temples - the only adornments were four large slabs of obsidian, each marked with a large hieroglyph resembling some manner of four-legged, horned animal - to the uninitiated (which described three of the four people who had just entered), it could be anything from a bull to a goat. A raised, pentagonal dais took up most of the floor-space of the room, each corner crowned by a tall, pointy obelisk. The edges of the dais and the obelisks themselves were all covered in engraved hieroglyphics, barely visible in the vague illumination of the single flashlight.

In the center of the pentagon, a large, demonic-looking figure sat on a stone throne, his appearance making the growing fear of the three prisoners peak. With the body of a man and the head of a ram - albeit with long, curly horns more reminiscent of a goat - he looked remarkably like the popular image of a demon. The flickering shadows cast by Satiah's flashlight did not help matters, nor did the most noticeable adornment of the statue: A necklace of strung-together infant figures, seemingly made from baked clay as opposed to the solid stone of the rest of the statue.

Satiah put her still-lit flashlight on the ground, its beam illuminating the central obelisk of the dais and little else, then gestured with her rifle. "Back up against the wall, and kneel. Your judgment approaches." Hearts beating fast with multifaceted fear, they obeyed, kneeling against the wall, facing the occult display before them. As they watched, Satiah stepped forwards with her rifle now hanging negligently from her left hand, as she pulled something out of her cleavage with her right. It flickered bright-blue as it entered the view of the fallen flashlight - a small pendant of Egyptian faience, resembling an ancient potter's wheel.

She looked over the obelisk for no more than five seconds, before finding her mark. With a quick jerk, she pulled the pendant from its string, and slotted it into a blank indentation on the stone surface before her. A click echoed through the tomb - and then a cold, blue light spread through the hieroglyphs of the obelisk, focusing into a bright spark at the very peak. The light spread rapidly throughout the assembly, rippling along the edges of the dais to reach the other obelisks, and when all five were glowing at their peak - shedding a wavering blue light on the entire chamber, creating an odd illusion that they were somehow underwater - beams of incandescent energy shot from them to collide in the center.

The demonic-looking stone statue began to shake, pebbles rolling off of it as cracks formed across its surface, right-blue light shining through them. Bit by bit, the stone fell away, revealed to be naught but a shell - a colorless rendition of what waited beneath. Satiah, having already discarded her rifle on the floor, walked towards it, pulling her stylish white dress off as she went - and as the creature's eyes flashed into life, she kneeled before it. It was clearly alive, now. The body of a giant (and rather fit) man, dressed in ancient Egyptian garb, and crowned by a green-furred ram's head with long, curly horns. Taking a deep breath, Satiah remembered the difficult lessons in ancient Egyptian language she'd been forced to master to reach her current position. "Hail, lord Khnum, great potter, source of the Nile, creator of life! In the name of the Order of the Ancient Sands, I welcome you back."

The ram-headed god shook himself, blinking sleep out of his glowing, blue eyes, and looked down at her with a grave expression before he replied. "The world calls me back, does it? The clay is still formed, the Nile still flows, and children are still born. Little that matters has changed. Why call on me?" Still kneeling naked on the stone floor, Satiah kept her head lowered as she spoke. "Egypt is in peril, invaded by foreign religions and enslaved by dictators. War is coming. Destruction will follow in its wake. We need the god of Creation on our side, to aid us in rebuilding and sowing new life."

Khnum sighed, but nodded. "If my children, the people of Egypt, call on my aid, I cannot ignore it. But I will require a High Priestess. A worthy God-Wife to work through. You, I assume, have come here in the hopes of receiving that mantle..." Satiah swallowed and gathered enough courage to raise her head and look up at the towering body of the god, so that he might see the eagerness burning in her eyes. "I have indeed, lord Khnum - and I have not come empty-handed, either." Khnum lifted a dark-green eyebrow, his glowing blue eyes panning from the woman kneeling naked before him, to the three other women kneeling along the wall - all petrified by terror and awe, stunned by disbelief at what they were seeing.

"Those three, is it? Foolish. I am not Sekhmet or Anubis, let alone Set. I do not thirst for sacrifices of blood." A smirk creeped onto Satiah's face as she glanced over her shoulder at the three prisoners - then she quickly put on a grave expression and shook her head. "I would not presume to think so, either. But while you do not desire blood, I believe you WOULD desire JUSTICE. These women have all committed grave crimes against you, and everything you stand for." Khnum's eyes narrowed, scanning the three women with more intensity. Then he nodded. "Very well. Tell me of their crimes."

Satiah smiled eagerly and jumped to her feet, quickly walking back to the wall to where the three kneeling women waited. She first grabbed the artist formerly known as 'Ai' by her short, spiky, vividly-colored hair and raised her voice. "This woman has trespassed against the Great Potter, defacing temples and destroying artifacts of the old world simply because they run counter to her personal beliefs. She was caught red-handed, attempting to deface your great temple in Elephantine." Khnum's face stiffened at this, his eyes burning even brighter. "My temple..." he mumbled. Satiah nodded quickly and moved on.

Resting her hand on Martine LaCour's shoulder - the stiff businesswomen being the only one who still retained some semblance of composure, she grinned unpleasantly down at the neatly-dressed woman before speaking. "This woman has trespassed against the Source of the Nile, polluting the sacred river in the name of personal profit and advancement. And, indeed, we caught her in the process of planning to do it again. The Nile has always been holy for us, and remains the source of our prosperity - but some, it seems, have little respect for that." The pseudo-aquatic blue light that filled the chamber grew more active as Khnum scowled in response, creating the illusion of churning waters.

Finally, Satiah stepped up next to Ehsan Mahmoud, gesturing towards her, but not touching her - as if she was afraid her hands would be dirtied by that act. "This woman has trespassed against The Creator, he who shapes the unborn children on his pottery-wheel. Tasked with being a caretaker for orphans and lost children, she instead saw them as a source of profit, and sold them to any who would pay. Over the years, she has sent uncountable children to a horrid fate." Satiah had more of a speech planned, but her tongue stopped in its tracks as the light of the tomb suddenly shifted from blue towards red - including the eyes of Khnum - turning the illusion of being underwater into a sickening sensation of drowning in a sea of blood. The ram-headed god snarled, his huge hands gripping the granite arm-rests of his throne hard enough to crack the stone, and he pushed himself halfway out of his seat.

Then, he seemingly took a deep breath, closed his eyes, released the armrests, and sank back down. The red light disappeared, and when his eyes opened again, they too were back to being blue. "Sinners all, though by different degrees..." he mumbled under his breath, the deep, bass-like sound of his voice easily carrying through the chamber. Then he leaned his head back, staring up towards the dusty ceiling, and closed his eyes again. A strange sound pervaded the room, like a distant whisper, just on the edge of hearing. Then he opened his eyes again, and an unpleasant grin crested his inhuman lips. "Ahhh... Anubis has already awakened. Good. He owes me a favor... or two."

Lowering his head again, he looked to the sides, where obsidian slabs lines the walls of the chamber. A large glyph was visible on each of them, resembling a horned, four-legged animal. Khnum made a quick, beckoning gesture with both hands, and before a second had passed, a succession of booming noises resounded through the room as large cracks developed in the slabs. Within seconds, the slabs were reduced to fragments, peppering the room as they exploded outwards, and what had been confined behind them emerged. They resembled rams and goats, horned and hoofed... but there were certain, rather noticeable differences. The bright-green wool coats that covered them, the glimmer of intelligence in their eyes... and the fact that each of them was roughly the size of a horse.

Satiah recognized them immediately as the Totemic Beasts of Khnum, and looked at them appreciatively as they walked around the raised dais to menace the three tied-up women along the wall. Their eyes, far from the deep and peaceful brown their mundane cousins would have, were burning with anger... and something else. Khnum nodded at them, and smiled in a way that showed off his pearly-white rows of square teeth. Then he glanced back at Satiah. "These women... I perceive they do not speak the true language. They should know their judgment and their sentence. Translate my words to them. Satiah nodded eagerly, and walked to the edge of the dais to look down at the terrified women, speaking in English again. "All right, you three... Khnum is ready to pronounce your sentencing, and I'll be translating, so DO pay attention, hmm?"

Khnum cleared his throat and let his eyes fall gravely on the punk-haired Ai. "For the act of defacing holy art, and attempting to deface my temple, I condemn you to a year of hard labor." Ai blinked as Satiah conveyed the sentence, eyes flickering, not sure if she should feel despair or elation that it wasn't WORSE. While she chewed on that, Khnum's eyes panned over to Martine LaCour, who felt herself stiffen under his gaze. "For the act of despoiling the Nile, a holy gift that the gods granted to the people of Egypt, I condemn you to five years hard labor." Marine swore under her breath - in French - and felt her shoulders tighten. The sheer in justice of it was momentarily distracting her from the impossibility that a physical god was passing judgment on her.

Finally, Khnum's eyes fell on Ehsan Mahmoud, who quailed at the intensity of the stare. A hint of red snuck back into the light that filled the chamber, briefly casting the room in a purplish shine. "For the act of selling children - a miracle granted to mankind by the gods - I condemn you to a lifetime of hard labor." Satiah's voice rose with glee as she passed on the declaration, and Ehsan could only shake her head mutely as she heard it. Khnum then looked over the oversized rams and goats clustered around the three women, nodding. "Your sentences will be served under my Totems. You will serve their needs and desires for the proscribed period. Assuming you survive, you will subsequently be released." This, too, was passed on to the three women by Satiah, and they looked up at the animals with renewed fear in their eyes, suddenly recognizing the look in their eyes... anger, yes, and also lust.

With a sigh, Khnum sat back in his seat, waving a hand airily at the giant beasts. "The punishment will begin immediately." As soon as Satiah had translated that, Khnum beckoned her closer, and she turned her back on the three women and walked towards him - even as the rams and goats silently closed in around the three women. She could hear shouts of protest and the thumps of flesh hitting stone behind her, but paid it no mind. Her god awaited her, and it was time for her to be tested. And so, once again, she kneeled before him, still naked, heart thumping loudly in her chest... and a spreading wetness between her legs.

Woolly green bodies surrounded the three women, blocking everything else out. There were many of them - more than a dozen - and they were clustered tightly around them. They could only cry out in vain protest as gnashing teeth and sharp hooves closed in, but seemingly, the beasts were aiming for the ropes that bound their hands... and their clothes. Ai's artfully-ripped punk-rock outfit was torn apart in a decidedly un-artful way, and despite its sturdiness, Martine's tailor-made pants-suit soon followed suit, splitting in the seams. Ehsan's hijab was torn from her head, and the airy black robe she wore soon followed suit - showing a surprisingly well-toned body for a woman her age, the result of having plenty of money to spend on cosmetics and healthy food.

The herd did not stop until all three women were entirely naked, their clothes shredded right down to the underwear. Their hands were also free, but surrounded as they were by unnaturally large beasts, that availed them little. They could only shiver, pushing themselves against the wall as the herd continued to surround them, nudging them with hooves and horns. It was fairly obvious what they wanted, but the women were too shell-shocked to act on it... except for Martine. A keenly intelligent and fast-thinking individual, her world-view had just about finished straightening itself back out after the last few minutes' revelations about gods, magic, and unnatural beasts.

She wrinkled her nose, looking up at the huge beasts before her. Then she looked down, and saw long, thick rods dangling beneath their wool-covered bellies. Wincing, she forced her revulsion down, and pushed herself away from the wall. Her rise through the corporate hierarchy had involved a wide variety of tactics and strategies, and while no-one who valued their balls would claim that she'd slept her way to the top, she was not unfamiliar with the approach, either. For her, it was a last resort - a desperate measure employed when all else failed and the stakes were too high for retreat to be an option. This impossible situation certainly qualified... and it wasn't as if a huge, green ram was all THAT much more repulsive than the sweaty, pasty-skinned, overweight corporate CEO she'd bedded last time things degenerated to the point of making such measures necessary.

Pushing herself away from the wall, she turned around and got down on her hands and knees. The surrounding herd made room for her to do so - just barely - and as soon as she assumed the position, the closest beast jumped on her back. She felt the wool scratch across her back, making it itch, and winced as sharp hooves hit the stone floor within an inch of her hands. Something hard was poking at her rear. It felt hot and slimy and thick... well, not as thick as one might've feared from the size of the beast, but certainly 'porn-star size', and a far cry from the pencil-dicked CEO she'd just managed to remind herself of. The 'slimy' bit was also fortuitous, seeing as the current situation was anything but arousing, and there wasn't a tube of lube anywhere to be seen. Apparently, rams self-lubricated, at least to some degree.

She winced as it pushed forwards, her labia parting around it. Whatever pre-cum he was leaking eased the passage, but there was still a lot of friction, and she could feel her pussy-lips being pulled along painfully as the long shaft continued inside. The fact that it slowly got thicker didn't help matters, and her grimace sharpened in response. Taking several deep breaths, she willed herself to relax. Tensing up would only make her clamp down, making the whole thing far more unpleasant than it already was. Besides, she thought wryly to herself, she clearly needed to get used to this, since she would apparently be doing it for the next five years.

By the time the ram bottomed out, his slightly-curved cockhead bouncing painfully against her cervix, her labia were being stretched apart by the full girth of his shaft. It was, she felt certain, significantly bigger than anything she'd ever dared to put in her body - whether alive or made of plastic. But her body was holding out still, and as her pussy was pulled open, her clitoral hood was pulled towards the shaft. She could feel the sensitive little nub swell with the increased blood-flow, responding to the penetration by peeking out of its hood, curious to see what was going on. As the ram - having measured the depth of her pussy - began to thrust in earnest, it certainly found out.

The strokes were long, smooth and powerful, using the full depth of her pussy. Lowering her head to peek between her dangling breasts, she could confirm what she'd already suspected - the ram wasn't using his full length. There were several more inches of thick shaft left before her labia even when he bottomed-out in her - which suggested that he was exercising some manner of restraint. His cockhead was still hitting her cervix on every thrust, but considering his sheer mass, he could've done a lot more than just poke it.

And even though it was attached to a giant, green, possibly magical ram... there WAS a hard, hot, slippery cock plumping the deepest depths of her pussy. Ever since being assigned to Egypt, the only action she'd seen had run on batteries - which was a far cry from the sensation of a big, velvet-soft, unquestionably alive dick filling her up, pumping into her, rubbing her in all the right places. She felt a sting of shame at her rising pleasure, but quickly squished it. She was stuck in this situation for now, so there was no logical reason not to enjoy it if possible. If anything, giving her rising arousal free reins would make things easier - already, she could feel her pussy begin to loosen and lubricate, easing the ram's thrusts and removing the painful friction.

The two other women watched her with a mixture of amazement and disgust... but they soon realized that she was merely ahead of the game. Seeing one of the girls take the proper tack, the surrounding critters became even more aggressive in their prompting, poking at their naked skin with sharp hooves and smacking them down with quick jerks of their horned heads. Reluctantly, hesitantly, and scared beyond all reason, the two women finally followed Martine's example and got down on their hands and knees with their rears turned towards their bestial attackers.

The animals wasted no time. A huge goat covered Ai's body with his own, his curvy cockhead easily finding its mark between her thighs and pushing her labia aside. Despite the poor lubrication, he wasted no time in using his superior size and weight to force as much of his shaft inside as he could. While thinner than the rams, in terms of penile girth, he was still a lot bigger than any of the anarchistic punk-rock teenagers she'd dallied with in the past, and her young body struggled to absorb the thick, hard goat-cock while she moaned in pain.

Ehsan got it worse, though. Another ram had jumped her, and HIS slimy cockhead wasn't aiming for her pussy. Instead, he struck between her fleshy buttocks, forcing open her virgin sphincter with the sheer power of his immense size and weight. She screamed at the sudden pain, her cry ignored by the huge ram. The number of sexual liaisons she'd had in her life could be counted on one hand - she'd been married once, sure, but she hadn't put up with that jackass for very long before poisoning him for his life-insurance money. Anything beyond the basic 'missionary under the covers' intercourse, she was only familiar with by proxy.

The ram, however, seemed disinclined to make allowances for her inexperience. Defying the burning friction, lubricated only by a thin coating of pre-cum, he pushed his rod deeper, stretching her sphincter open as the shaft grew wider. His forelegs were planted in front of her shoulders like prison bars, preventing her from being pushed forwards. Her legs drummed on the floor and her hands instinctively pummeled the legs that barred her way - to no effect. The ram merely flexed his powerful hips again and again, driving deeper despite all resistance.

While the three women were forcibly broken in by the Totemic Beasts, Satiah was enthusiastically looking forwards to HER part. The moans and screams audible behind her only served to arouse her as Khnum looked down at her with a tight-lipped smile. "You have performed your first duty well enough, mortal, but I must still test if you are worthy to be my God-Wife. Tell me... are you a virgin?" Satiah flinched at this question. Her teachers in the Order had mentioned that some of the gods preferred virgins, while others did not care... but they had been unable to find out for sure which camp Khnum was in. Well, lying to a god was out of the question - she could only tell the truth and let the dice fall as they may. "No, my lord. I have had a few lovers. But my experience with human men left me... unsatisfied."

Khnum rubbed his bearded chin at this, narrowing his eyes as he looked at her. "Hmph. Well, it is not a matter of great importance, I suppose. So you hope to find in the embrace of a god what you did not in the arms of human lovers, then?" Licking her lips nervously, Satiah quickly parsed the flowery phrases inherent to the ancient Egyptian tongue, trying to put her thoughts into the right words. "In a sense, lord Khnum. However, I have no doubts that I will. Your image is one that has always brought me both pleasure and inspiration." The disapproving slant of Khnum's glowing eyes shifted a bit at this, and he nodded. "Interesting. By all means, then... give your body unto me and let me know you."

He pulled open the white cloth covering his waist, revealing that his hips were covered in a tough, woolly coat of clear green. A sheath bulged in the midst of it, the bright-red tip of his cock already poking out of the top. Eagerly, Satiah surged forwards, salivating at the sight. Climbing onto his throne, she kneeled between his widely-spread legs, literally worshiping his cock as she bent over it. Her tongue flicked out to caress the freshly-emerged tip, while her hands roamed wider - rubbing the sheath and gently massaging the big, silk-smooth ball-sack that laid below. An appreciative sound from above indicated that her enthusiasm had not gone unnoticed.

As more of the shaft emerged, she leaned forwards to fully engulf the head in her mouth, teasing it with her soft lips as she swooned from the taste. It was wild and strong, salty and bitter... and still, it was only pre-cum. She could hardly wait for the proper feast to arrive. More and more it rose, the sheath leaving a sheen of sweat and musk on the shaft as it emerged into the air. His proportions were everything she had hoped for - nearly three inches across, and a truly staggering length. The shape was straightforward, just like on a normal ram - long and smooth, but with a characteristic curved head. As it hardened fully, however, a network of veins became visible, covering its full length. Eagerly, she let her sensitive fingers run across it, feeling the texture and wondering what it would be like inside her.

As the shaft had emerged from the sheath, her head had gone up with it - by now, she was level with his chest. With a slight gasp, she opened her mouth and released the pale-red cockhead from between her lips, and then dove down again - licking the length of the shaft as she lowered her head. She stopped for a few seconds to lick around the edges of the sheath, and then went lower yet. His strong, bestial scent tickled her nostrils as she briefly buried her nose in the coarse wool just beneath his sheath - then she went below that, to the scrotum. The sack was laying on the seat of the throne, smooth skin wrapped around two fist-sized orbs. If he'd been standing, it would've dangled several inches below his groin. With both of her slender hands now wrapped around his cock, sliding up and down, she set to work massaging the huge, cum-filled balls with her tongue, covering them in licks and kisses as she urged them to produce even more hot sperm.

While Satiah labored orally, the beasts mounting the three other women had reached their orgasms - to varying results for their victims. Martine was breathing heavily, feeling the approach of an orgasm. Ai was starting to moan, her teenage hormones rapidly beating back her reason and sense of disgust. Ehsan was still groaning in pain, but not as much as before - her asshole had loosened somewhat from use, and the tiny veins inside that had been broken by the ram's brutal assault had contributed some lubrication in the form of blood. Within seconds of one another, they felt a flood of thick, warm cum flooding into them, filling pussies and wombs (or, in the case of Ehsan, her intestines.)

A strange surge seemed to pass through them in that moment, like a wave of sound far below the limits of human hearing. This was rapidly followed by a spike of something not quite like pain hitting their brains, and all three blinked in surprise as they looked around at the surrounding rams and goats with renewed insight. Suddenly, they UNDERSTOOD them. It was nothing like human speech, nor exactly like telepathy. They could simply sense, on an almost instinctive level, what the beasts wanted. An emphatic bond, flowing into the women... and the information it carried wasn't pleasant.

The beasts were filled by lust and desire, backed up from thousands of years of being blueballed. They were also filled by disdain for the subjects of their lust, sharing in their master's distaste for the sins they had committed. From several of them, waves of outright hatred emerged, backed by a fervent hope that the women would fail in their trials and thus give them an excuse to strike. On top of that, they all knew that the women had been 'connected' to them by now. Even as the goat and the two rams who had been the first to mount them retreated, pulling out of the cum-dripping orifices that had supplied the connection, the rest closed in around them - no longer limited to communicating their orders through gestures.

The goat that mounted Martine next was not emitting any anger, however - just pure lust. He stabbed his long, thick cock into her pussy a few times, covering it in the mix of cum and pussy-juice that filled it, while signaling his intent and desire to her. Obediently, she lowered her torso to the floor, flinching slightly as her sensitive nipples touched the cold stone, and reached her hands back instead. As she pulled her fleshy buns apart, exposing the tiny, brown star between them, the goat pulled out of her pussy and readjusted his aim. She groaned slightly as her sphincter was pushed open and the veiny shaft rubbed across it, going deep inside of her. She wasn't quite an anal virgin, but she hadn't had that much experience there... she was just thankful that the goat didn't have quite the same girth as the ram from before. Her sphincter was straining, but the pain was faint, and her mind was already soaked in endorphins from the approaching orgasm. As he impaled her deeply, she moaned in pleasure, feeling her empty pussy throb with desire.

Ai was less fortunate. A ram took the place of the goat who had mounted her before, and she could sense his dislike of her. He thrust into her pussy with violent force, deliberately torturing her with his girth, and smashing painfully into her cervix. As she gasped in pain, a goat appeared in front of her, radiating an intense disdain. With easy agility, he reared up to support his forehooves on the shoulders of the ram and walked his hindquarters towards her, thrusting his dangling member towards her mouth while commanding her to suck it. The rank scent of the goat's groin made her gag, but she was too frightened to resist, and parted her lips without resistance. It tasted even more bitter than it smelled, but she'd blown guys before, and even under these circumstances, she knew how to do it. Even as the goat jerked its hips, trying to thrust his girth into her far-too-narrow throat, she started to lick around the curvy cockhead, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked intensely.

In front of Ehsan, a ram rolled over on his back, balancing there with surprising ease - and a thick, pale-red cock contrasting festively against his green wool. He was demanding that she climb on top of him and sit on his cock. Terrified, she complied. She could feel the hatred emanating from the surrounding beasts, all eagerly waiting for an excuse to kill her. Her pussy was bone-dry, but the ram's cockhead had the same slimy layer of precum on it as the one that had taken her ass, and even though the friction made her grimace somewhat, it slid in with relative ease. It was at least less painful than being sodomized, she reflected... until a presence behind her commanded her to lean forwards over the ram. As soon as she complied - tipping forwards with the long, thick shaft of the ram's cock embedded deep within her pussy - a goat jumped on her back, his sharp hooves disappearing into the wool covering the ram's broad chest. His curved cockhead easily penetrated her blood-flecked asshole, stretching her battered sphincter anew.

However, even as she opened her mouth to scream in pain, her entire groin a mass of friction and pressure due to the rough double penetration, another green body appeared in front of her. It was another ram, and he immediately reared up to rest his forelegs on the goat's shoulders. The large animals, linked by whatever emphatic power their master had granted them, made the complicated maneuver seem easy, surrounding the woman in a mass of green wool. A dripping cock was being thrust at her face, now, along with a command to suck on it... no, specifically, to CLEAN it. With horror, she realized that it was dripping with blood and... other, less pleasant things. It was the same ram that had raped her ass just moments before. Yet, surrounded by the huge beasts, feeling the hatred and anger radiating from them, and too confused to think straight, she obeyed. She retched somewhat as the rank smell of fresh ass hit her nostrils - and the equally-rank taste hit her tongue - but she did as commanded... licking the foul mix of ass-slime, blood and cum off the shaft as it was forced into her mouth.

While the other girls were getting more of their orifices filled, Satiah was bubbling with excitement to fill just one. Having finished tongue-cleaning the entire surface area of Khnum's pendulous nutsack, she considered the preparations to be finished at last, and climbed up on his lap. Kneeling on his thighs his slender cock reached her chest, and she couldn't resist leaning forwards to embrace it with the softness of her boobs, briefly rubbing the head between the two hot mounds of flesh. But she wasn't going to wait much longer to get a proper penetration - her pussy was on fire with desire. Planting her bare feet on the muscular thighs of the sitting god, she pushed herself upright and deftly positioned her groin over the sky-pointing spear.

Then, she simply let her feet slide sideways, spreading her legs further as her feet dropped to the surface of the throne. In doing so she fell a distance equal to the circumference of his thighs... the thighs of a rather muscular giant. In other words, just over a solid foot. His cockhead had been a couple of inches from her pussy when she started, and her aim was true - in a split second, it speared through her swollen, juice-dripping labia, and thundered into her body with the power of gravity. She moaned at the sensation, knees buckling under the sudden influx of stimulation in her hungry pussy... which, of course, led to an even deeper penetration, right up to the point where his cockhead pushed painfully against her cervix.

She grimaced at the sensation. Like many of the aspiring High Priestess, she'd practiced for cervical penetration... but such things had limits, no matter how dedicated one was. The most she'd managed to take into her womb was about a one-inch diameter - plenty enough for what she normally used it for, and certainly impressive by most standards, but nowhere near enough for handling the three-inch girth of her divine lover. Taking a deep breath, she forced the disappointment down, and concentrated on the fact that she DID have nearly 10 inches worth of thick, hot, ram-cock inside her. Steadying herself by putting her hands on his shoulder, she started to bounce up and down on it, rising to her toes at the top and bending her knees at the bottom. She could feel the network of pulsing veins covering his shaft quite keenly as her pussy hugged it tightly, and towards the top, that deliciously curved cockhead was scraping across the sensitive surface, creating a bright spot of pleasure amidst the general glow. The feeling was strangely nostalgic, and she found herself thinking back...

As the daughter of a wealthy, old-money family, she'd wanted for nothing as a child - at least not physically. Her parents had been distant, busy with finances and 'social events', leaving her rearing largely in the hands of nannies, tutors and the like. Even at a tender young age, she'd felt like something was missing from her life. A certain closeness and warmth. But then, when she was eight, her parents sent her to live with her uncle for a while, to get her away from the crowds and pollution of Cairo for a while... officially, anyway. She was already smart enough to realize that they were mainly worried about current social and political upheavals, and feared that she would get caught up in it somehow.

Her uncle ran one of the biggest sheep-farms in the country, containing vast herds that provided wool and mutton both locally and internationally. He also had a few herds of goat on the side, mostly for producing a brand of popular goat-cheese. Busy managing his business, he left the young girl largely to her own devices, simply telling her not to get into trouble or in anybody's way. As a result, she mostly just wandered around the enormous area of land he owned, indulging in her recently-found passion (and talent) for painting by doing various landscapes.

But it was while she was on one of these walks that she saw it. A herd of sheep... and a ram. It was mating-season, and the ram was busy - mounting, thrusting, braying as he came, and then quickly dismounting and rushing off to the next sheep, leaving his conquest to stand quietly with a strangely satisfied smirk on her face. Stunned, she watched it continue for hours, the ram seemingly tireless, and the ewes never resisting or refusing his advances. It left a deep mark on her impressionable young mind. She found herself dreaming about it the following night - the ram, nutsack dangling heavily between his legs, rushing eagerly from sheep to sheep with his lips curled back from his teeth. Half-waking during the night, she felt an itching wetness between her legs, and as she tried to scratch it, she discovered masturbation and the bliss of the orgasmic climax in rapid succession.

The next day, she'd headed to the paddocks where the goats were kept, and sure enough, there a billy-goat - with an equally heavy sack dangling between his legs - was doing the same thing, bouncing from nanny-goat to nanny-goat as they eagerly spread their legs for him. She watched the sordid display for hours, her hands once again creeping into her pants as she experimented with her discovery from the previous night. For the rest of the mating-season, she took daily walks... but didn't get a lot of paintings done.

The trip eventually ended, however, and she found herself back in Cairo, once again surrounded by tutors and servants. The memories of the trip stayed with her, however... particularly in bed at night and while showering, growing in her mind with every session. In her thoughts, the ram and the billy-goat grew into impossibly virile giants, and the recipients of their ardor moaned in a voice like her own. As puberty took hold, she found herself channeling her secret fantasies and emerging hormones into her art, soon branching out beyond painting and finding joy in sculpting and ceramics.

Her parents supported her wholeheartedly, feeling that the pursuit of the arts was a worthy one for a member of their family, and paying little attention to the details. They made the necessary arrangements - materials, teachers, introductions to galley-owners - and otherwise left her to her own devices. When she insisted that she needed to go to a proper art-college, rather than just learn from private tutors, they arranged one for her overseas, sending her away for years without much in the way of thought.

Having been home-schooled for her whole life, jumping into a college in a foreign city, surrounded by young people her own age, was a mind-bending change. She struggled to adapt, and initially faced hostility due to a mixture of foreignness and being a 'rich kid' even by the standards of the place. But she soon won friends, not least with her art, which had by then evolved significantly. It was surging with primal energy, often depicting primitive scenes such as the worship of ancient deities and the performance of old rituals. A sense of lust and barely-constrained sexuality was ever-present, whether overt or subtle.

The sense of sexuality in her art, combined with her 'exotic beauty', drew a fair number of equally hormone-laden teenage boys to her door, and starved for physical contact as she was, she welcomed most of them into her bed without a thought - images of ewes and nanny-goats eagerly spreading their legs for the ram and the billy-goat flashing in her mind. She didn't even consider the loss of her 'technical' virginity worthy of note, having broken the physical one with her fingers years earlier. But none of the boys visited her bed more than once - their fumbling, inexperienced lovemaking, driven by enthusiasm and hormones rather than experience, measured up poorly to her mental image of the rutting ram.

Recognizing that inexperience was likely an issue, she seduced one of her male teachers during her third year. A man old enough to be her father, he certainly had the experience she'd sought - she strongly suspected that she wasn't the first student he'd bedded. She found his size impressive, and his skillful use of tongue, fingers and dick all brought her to far more satisfying orgasms than any of her peers had managed... and yet, she wasn't quite satisfied. He had a gentle touch, and a deliberately fatherly demeanor - probably designed to appeal to girls with 'daddy-issues'. And that was a far cry for the bestial rutting she still saw in her dreams.

She still kept him as a lover for years, for lack of anything better to put between her legs, and found herself often imagining him with the head of a ram or a goat when they were together. Her art changed further during their liaison, the subtle signals becoming more overt, more... candid. Grotesque depictions of creatures part sheep, part human, often engaged in obscene behavior, some of the more 'avant-garde' critics praised her work for the way it depicted 'the human beast'... and, more subtly, appreciated the attention-getting shock-value and the fact that sex sells. Even (or especially) if it's really obscene and perverse. Several of her ceramic sculptures thus found their way into modern-art museums, drawing some crowds with their vivid, lifelike appearance... and acrobatic interactions.

By the time she finished her education and returned home, she'd thus already won some renown - and infamy - as an artist. She wasn't exactly greeted with a ticker-tape parade, though - the somewhat narrow-minded and fanatically religious attitude that was prevalent in Egypt at the time had a dim view of art such as hers, and she was almost instantly banned from all museums and art-galleries in the country. The insult rankled, but there were still a demand for her work overseas, from Paris to Hong Kong, so she tried to put it out of her mind. Her parents barely seemed to care, certainly, and when she told them she'd be staying at her uncle's ranch for a while 'to search for inspiration', they had no protests.

She had, of course, timed her visit well. It was mating-season once again, and her uncle - several years older, now, but still just as busy - had no more desire to monitor her activities than last time she'd visited. Once again, she wandered to an isolated field armed with artistic tools, but with designs on something more physical than art. The mating she'd watched as a child had imprinted on her, and her experiences with humans had been unsatisfying. Despite the fact that it was several kinds of taboo and illegal besides, she NEEDED to try it for real. And she was armed with a bounty of knowledge gathered from eager, internet-powered study, and some carefully-prepared tools.

One of them was as simple as a jar. She knew that the ewes announced their readiness to mate with certain hormones emitted in their pee, and thus, all she needed was to wait for one of the sheep to relieve herself... and then quickly place the jar underneath, catching the yellow stream. Then, as the ram danced amongst his harem, mounting each in turn, she pulled a sheepskin from the suitcase that was supposed to contain her art-supplies. Stripping otherwise naked, she tied it around her body and got down on all fours amongst the sheep. Reaching back, she poured the contents of the jar down the crack of her ass, feeling the lukewarm liquid splatter across her pussy and thighs as her arousal and desire peaked.

Then, she could only wait - just like the other ewes - for the attention of the ram to fall on her. And eventually it did - caught in the hormone high of the rut, one woolly back reeking of fuck-me-now was the same as any other. She moaned eagerly as she felt him mount her, arms shaking as he wrapped his forelegs around her waist, struggling to hold up his bulk. His long shaft, slick with the juice and cum of a dozen matings already, slipped up and down between her firm buttocks several times as the ram thrust experimentally forwards, seeking a receptive hole. He knew it had to be there - his nose told him as much - but it didn't seem to be quite where it was supposed to be. At one point, his cock slipped tantalizingly down between her thighs, rubbing over her pussy-lips as it passed, making her groan impatiently.

Then, finally, one thrust hit home... though not in her pussy, which had entirely the wrong angle for him to enter. Instead, her sphincter gave way before the well-lubricated cockhead, stretching open and giving him entry into her virgin ass. She'd never tried anal sex during her 'experiments' with human partners, and it was thus an entirely new sensation... but being aroused out of her mind as she was, she had no intention to complain. The long shaft was thinner even than the teenage cocks she'd lost her virginity to back in college, and did not stretch her tender rectum overmuch. The feeling of the powerful body weighing her down, thrusting into her without thought - driven entirely by raw instinct - seemed to magnify the pleasurable jolts that ran through her pussy as the ram began to fuck her at a furious pace.

She wasn't entirely dependent on the spreading impact-shocks for vaginal stimulation, however. As the ram reached full penetration - his bendy shaft and curvy cockhead easily pushing halfway around the bend at the depths of her ass - his large, heavy balls swung forwards with the power of inertia, smacking into her labia with a wet sound. She came almost immediately, and as the rapid-fire pace of the ram's thrusts created a near-constant pussy-spanking, her climax was maintained and extended, drawing on until the ram finally finished.

Intense pleasure exploded through her as she felt the thick, slimy cum fill her intestines, his body still on top of hers for a moment as he trembled in an orgasm of his own. Then, seconds later, he jumped off her back, pulling his sleek shaft out in a single, smooth movement - and dashed onwards to the next sheep in line. It took several minutes before she could pull herself together enough to get shakily to her feet and discard her disguise, making her way back out of the flock. With a newfound fascination and aftershocks of the huge orgasm still resounding in her mind, she once again watched the ram go about his work, idly playing with her pussy all the while.

By the time twilight washed over the fields, the ram finally fell silent, having apparently managed to mount every last sheep in his harem. Obviously exhausted, sweat drenching his wool, he stood a bit apart from them as he tiredly chewed on the lush grass, and almost reverently, she approached him. During her art-studies, she'd learned about how the ram had been regarded as a symbol of fertility in many cultures and at many times, often deified in various ways, and now she truly understood it. She wanted to drop to her knees and pray to the great beast, this tireless lover untainted by calculation and deception.

And so she did, in her own way. The ram, like the rest of the flock, were used to their human handlers, and he did not react to her presence even without her 'disguise'. Nor did he protest when she dropped to her knees behind him and cupped his heavy, dangling balls in her hands. He DID shift a bit when she started licking them, but not in any way that indicated that he found it unpleasant. With sudden hunger, she let her tongue roam all over the smooth surface of the nutsack, cleaning the sweat and dust off of it, relishing in the salty flavor.

Then, when she noticed that his cock was still out of its sheath - albeit hanging somewhat limply down, nearly reaching the ground, she moved to his side and began to lick that, instead. The taste was thickly layered, bitter and tart - the ram had been active since early morning, mounting ewe after ewe with nary a moment of rest, leaving the remnants of dozens of matings on his shaft. She licked it all up without hesitation, telling herself that she could ALMOST taste the bitter flavor of her own ass somewhere in there - the evidence of her first true mating. As she was sucking on the head, cleaning the back of the curve with her tongue, a warm and sour liquid began to pour from it, suddenly filling her mouth... and in her present state, it seemed eminently logical to rapidly swallow it.

The ram's bladder, filled to the brim after a hard day's exercise, emptied rapidly into her mouth - and caught up in her perverse desires, she drank every drop. As her throat worked, her hands found their way down between her legs once again, and she rubbed herself to a couple of short but potent orgasms before the flow ended. Only then did she release the cockhead from between her lips, giving it a parting lick to pick up the last stray drops, and fell back on her rear. Rubbing her belly, she felt the piss slosh around in her stomach, and reflected on how extraordinary a day it had been.

Needless to say, she repeated the success the next day - this time with a billy-goat, who proved to be slightly less well-hung, but every bit as enthusiastic. She was worried that she'd have a harder time 'blending in' amongst the nanny-goats, but the billy-goat seemed not to mind - and like the ram, the angle of her body directed him into her asshole. The happenstance of her first encounter became a ritual on the second, as she waited for him to finish servicing the other nannies before approaching him and tongue-cleaning his genitals with enthusiasm. At the end, she continued to suck gently on his cockhead until, inevitably, the goat relieved himself - feeding her a rank bladderful of piss.

The ranch had numerous flocks of sheep, each presided over by a virile ram, and for the rest of the mating-season, she visited one every day - occasionally mixing in a herd of goats for variety. Inspired by her daily dalliances, she produced some of her most 'shocking' artwork to date - scenes of fauns and ram-headed demons in carnal embraces - and had them swiftly shipped overseas for sale before the local government could destroy them as 'obscene' (as had happened to some of her earlier works.) However, as all things did, the mating-season eventually ended...

During the scant months of the season, one or more rams (or goats) had been rutting every day... and every day, she'd found a lover amongst them, carrying out her ritual of worship afterwards. When the season came to an end, the rams and ewes lost all interest in mating, leaving her depressed and destitute as she visited their fields and saw nothing but peaceful grazing. She tried her best to carry on the 'rituals', rubbing the sheath of rams and billy-goats to coax out their tools, and while they never hardened for mating, she was at least able to get one thing out of it. If she sucked on their floppy cocks long enough, they would eventually fill her mouth with the bitter-salty taste of their piss, a flavor she had grown entirely addicted to, and would be able to masturbate her way to a few swift orgasms as she drank it.

But it just wasn't enough. Her artistic output was dropping off, and she was getting the sense that her aging uncle was getting fed up with her presence, if only because her increasingly curvaceous body was distracting his employers. Several of the workers had propositioned her, but now that she'd tried indulging in her true desires, mankind no longer held any appeal for her. Either way, it was time to leave. Her online studies had told her that there were other breeds of sheep that did not have a mating-season, but rutted year-round, and she was determined to find some way to obtain one - as a regular lover and living idol - SOMEHOW.

It was during her careful inquiries in how to obtain and train such a ram that she first made contact with the Order. They welcomed her into their embrace, offering her all she desired. A skilled animal-trainer who was part of their staff provided her with the ram of her dreams, a handsome fellow with white wool and a black face, who required no chemical prompting or specific season to eagerly mate with her. She missed tasting the flavor of a dozen ewes on his cock when she sucked him off afterwards, but the fact that she could clearly taste her own pussy or ass on it - the evidence of their mating - somewhat made up for that. Better yet, since she did not need to disguise herself as a sheep, she could coax the ram into trying 'alternate positions'...

Her favorite had her lying on her side with one slender leg in the air, bent at the knee as the ram used it for support, vigorously thrusting into her pussy as he stood astride her other leg. The position was designed to compensate for a key difference between human and sheep physiology - after all, the curved cockhead of the ram was designed to poke right into the womb of the ewe, which just happened to be side-mounted relative to the birth-canal, rather than top-mounted as on a human. But posed like this, it worked - she could feel his cockhead poking into her cervix on full penetration, and when he finally came, he sprayed a thick, slimy mass of cum directly into her womb - where it would usually stay for days before it started to lose cohesion and dribble out. Just the sensation of it inside her was enough to give her a steady stream of mini-orgasms throughout the day.

The cervical training encouraged by the Order, however, eventually offered her an alternative. The ram's cock was long, but thin, and if she took him in a position where he could actually penetrate her fully (such as laying on her back on something of suitable height) she could not take his full length. Until, after over a year of dedicated practice, she could. His well-lubricated cockhead punched through her cervix as she embraced him, arms and legs wrapped around the woolly body as she felt him penetrate her womb.

He fucked her there, hard and fast, sending indecipherable sensations through her body until he finally came - filling the battered container with thick cum. With her arms and legs still holding him firmly, however, he could not pull out - and after gathering the energy to do so, the well-trained animal began again, fucking her anew. Drunk on pleasure garnished with bright sparks of pain, she held on to him for over five hours - at which point he'd emptied his balls into her half a dozen times, and his bladder once. Her uterus was stretched enough to cause a slight bulge on her abdomen, filled with a churned-up mixture of piss and cum.

When at last her tired limbs fell aside, letting the equally-exhausted ram shimmy back and escape, she was transformed. As she forced herself to rise off the mattress she'd been lying on, and go through the ritual as always - cleaning the yellowish foam off the curved cockhead with her tongue - she'd found god. Well, _a_god, anyway. Up to that point, she'd told herself that she was just using the weird cult for her own amusement. She was an intelligent, well-educated woman - stories of ancient gods sleeping beneath the sand were nothing but fairytales.

But after that session, she dedicated herself fully to the Order. She donated all of the wealth her artistic endeavors had afforded her, and trained her body with fanatical zeal. Through the ram, she worshiped Khnum, whom she now knew with certainty really DID sleep somewhere beneath the shifting sands, and she strove to earn the honor of becoming his High Priestess. Hearing that the ritual to awaken him would involve kidnapping three women - one of whom she'd been introduced to before - did not move her. Khnum would judge them, as he would judge her - and she would not be found wanting...

Khnum grunted above her as her memories caught up with the present, and as she glanced up at him, she saw a strange gleam in his glowing eyes - not red this time, but a shade of deep, dark green, even darker than his coat. Then, as the subtle change disappeared - fast enough that she wasn't entirely certain she'd seen it at all - his hands left the granite armrests of the throne. One of them cupped her back, stroking her spine to send little shocks of pleasure through her body, while the other covered her belly. Then, as he began to rub her skin, lifting his hands higher bit by bit, she felt something shift inside of her.

There was no pain, just a weird sensation of motion - but she could immediately tell what was happening. Her uterus was shifting, changing, as he reshaped it like a lump of clay on a potter's wheel, pulling higher and higher. When his hands reached the small of her back and the point right above her heart, he let go - and her knees immediately collapsed under her. With a groan, she felt her cervix stretch around his cockhead, clutching it tightly but permitting it entrance. Beyond that... it simply continued. When she stopped, her legs were fully spread, and she could feel the edge of his sheath rubbing against her labia. She could feel every inch of the shaft, more than a foot and a half, wrapped tightly in the folds of her body.

Her newly reshaped womb seemed to have taken on a shape reminiscent of a sausage-skin, thin enough to feel noticeably tight around Khnum's three-inch girth all the way up - and it did, indeed, seem to extend clear up between her lungs, to a point somewhere between her ribcage and her heart. She could actually feel his pulse through his throbbing cock, mingling with the rhythm of her heart. It made her feel strangely tingly. She flexed her hips, grinding them into his groin, feeling his full length shift inside her in response. As she moaned in pleasure, Khnum grinned toothily down at her. "Consider it a gift in return for your long dedication... I fear your womb will not serve for its original purpose while in this form, however. But if it becomes relevant, I can return it to its old shape easily enough..."

She nodded without really hearing him, deaf to everything but the sensation of the impossibly-sized ram-cock lodged deep inside her body. She was still rotating her hips, mouth open and eyes rolled back at the sensation - there was more cock inside her womb than in her pussy proper, and she could feel every inch of the immense shaft with perfect clarity. With a sigh, Khnum shifted his hands to her hips, got a good grip, and easily lifted her up - high enough that her feet left the surface of his throne, and his hooked cockhead caught on the inside of her labia. Then he thrust her down on the shaft again, burying the full length in a single stroke, her legs folding underneath her without the slightest resistance.

Not a sound emerged from her wide-open mouth as her eyes rolled back in her head, entirely stunned by the pleasure. The thrust was powerful, using her own weight in addition to the god's inhuman strength, and the shock of each impact was enough to make her head roll on her shoulders and her boobs bounce heavily up and down. His sheath ground against her labia at the bottom of each stroke, the rough wool covering it tickling her fully-exposed, blood-engorged clit. As she rose, the huge cock left her body cavity, and her cervix began to close on the empty space it left behind... only to be immediately and violently stretched open again as she was thrust down once more.

She climaxed roughly every other thrust, the bright bursts of pleasure washing through her brain in such rapid succession that they seemingly blended together into a single continuous state of orgasmic bliss. Her body was numb and slack as she simply let Khnum use her as he saw fit, completely surrendering to his desires. And unlike the rams and goats she'd mated with in the past, Khnum had staying-power far beyond the couple of minutes it took those nervous animals to get their rocks off. Khnum was a creator-god, the Source of the Nile, and a being of infinite patience. While he was certainly eager to enjoy himself after his long sleep, the pleasure he was creating in Satiah brought its own enjoyment to him - and so, he let it continue for longer than he might otherwise have. For hours, the powerful thrusts continued. His own pleasure held in abeyance, he tirelessly pounded her, watching in satisfaction as drool ran down the sides of her face and her bladder lost control, releasing a meager shower of gold into his crotch-wool.

While Satiah hovered in a state of mind-bending bliss, the three other women were also increasingly surrounded by lust. The beasts were increasingly discontent with simply waiting their turn, and clustered in more eagerly around the women. What Esahn had experienced first - all three of her main orifices filled with a long, hard cock - had already become the norm for all of them. The lust and pleasure that radiated from all but the most foul-tempered of them had its own effect too, sparking a physical reaction in them all whether they wanted it to or not. Martine had been the first to embrace the situation, recognizing that resistance was both futile and liable to be unpleasant, but the other two had gradually, reluctantly, followed suit. Their inherent revulsion and terror at the situation hadn't been able to prevent their bodies from reacting, and by now their pussies were dripping with lubrication - much of which had been transferred to their by-now stretched-open assholes.

Martine was still ahead of the curve, though - even while practically disappearing inside the wool of three ardent rams, she was expanding her reach, literally. Her naked arms were reaching out to each side, jacking off another pair of beasts with rhythmic, well-practiced jerks. She couldn't even tell if they were goats or rams, her entire field of vision being taken up by the groin of the beast in front of her. Her lack of resistance had not gone unnoticed, and those of the beasts who were more lusty than angry had gravitated towards her - ensuring that while her pussy, ass and jaw were all increasingly sore, that was as bad as it got. She'd found herself sucking on a couple of vaguely unpleasant-tasting cocks, but even though they'd no doubt been in SOMEBODY'S ass recently, it wasn't so blatant that she couldn't ignore it.

Of course, that left the angrier critters - the ones more eager to humiliate and denigrate the women than pleasure themselves - to head elsewhere. And while a couple had found their way to Ai's side, most of them had instead crowded around the unfortunate Esahn. Eager to punish her and hoping to push her into doing something stupid, they'd bombarded her with every form of humiliation they could think of, even as they repeatedly pounded all of her holes with unrestrained violence. Any time one of them had finished pounding her increasingly messy asshole, his cock would immediately find its way into her mouth with orders to clean it. More often than not, this would be followed up by a rank stream of piss filling her mouth, along with a command not to let any of it spill.

Again and again, she choked back the desire to throw up and swallowed the hot liquid, feeling it boiling right down to her increasingly full stomach. Tears were running freely down her face, more from the shame of feeling her body responding to the foul rape than from the outright pain - though there was quite a bit of that, too. The mercilessness of her rapists were leaving her intestines and cervix increasingly battered, their own privates apparently too invulnerable to leave THEM with any discomfort at the rough impacts deep within her.

However, having apparently concluded that the piss-assault and general rough treatment wouldn't make her crack, one of the goats had a burst of inspiration - and as he approached her head, it was rear-end first. Staring directly into the goat's dark-brown asshole, she felt his intent and command - lick, clean, tongue. Retching, she hesitantly stuck out her tongue as the goat backed up closer, pushing his ass into her face. She'd grown increasingly accustomed to the rank smell of the goats but this was even worse, and her nostrils twitched in protest. Nonetheless, fear still drove her actions, and her tongue made contact with the wrinkly surface of his sphincter.

While the taste wasn't as bad as she might have feared - the Totemic Beasts lacking most of the metabolic process expected of a mortal animal - watching her tongue prod at the tiny, wrinkled hole up close brought her feeling of abject humiliation to new heights. As her tongue continued to lick around the rim of the sphincter, the sensitive organ picking up every crease and wrinkle, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore what she was doing, even actively trying to focus on the two rams currently pounding her pussy and ass in equal measure. But immediately, an angry response pulsed through her - look, see, don't flinch.

Tears of humiliation and fear streaming down her cheeks, she opened her eyes again, watching her tongue prod and lick at the disgusting asshole of an animal. Desperate to look at something, ANYTHING else, she looked to the sides hard enough to make her eyes hurt... and as she glanced to the left, she spotted something. Her eyes remained fixed on it even as her tongue continued to labor, and it was only when the ram on top of her blew his load and dismounted that the goat was satisfied with her treatment and moved away. She could sense the intent of several others - rams and goats alike - clustering around her head. Now that the first goat had broached the option, they would all demand the same treatment from her.

With strength driven by adrenaline and desperation, she jumped off the ram she'd been straddling, and gritted her teeth as she dashed for it - ignoring the ache in her limbs as they threatened to cramp up from the sudden burst of activity. The beasts around her seemed to be slow to react as she ran across the chamber's stone floor - not for the exit, which was inaccessible behind a wall of huge, woolly, but for something else. A well-maintained AK-47 assault-rifle, discarded on the edge of the central dais - Satiah had dropped it there without a thought as she'd approached the throne.

Ehsan felt the comforting weight of the weapon as she picked it up, and she quickly thumbed the safety and worked the slide to make sure it was ready to fire. She'd spent enough time around various criminal elements to pick up the basics, and the AK-47 was nothing if not user-friendly. Triumphantly, she turned on the large beasts who were now lumbering towards her, taking aim. She spat, trying to clear her mouth before putting on an insane grin. "Why... why should I have to fear a bunch of braying barnyard animals, huh? You're nothing but mutton! I'll kill you all and eat you for dinner!" The beasts did not understand her words - not so much because human speech was beyond them, as because the only language they knew was ancient Egyptian - but through the emphatic link, they sensed her intent and bared their teeth.

Even though she could feel the murderous intent radiating from them, she refused to be intimidated. The stupid animals clearly did not understand what a rifle was. Heck, the ones who'd been working away at the other two women hadn't even stopped, and barely looked up. The younger of the girls, however, HAD noticed her - the one with the punk hair - and her eyes were wide with sudden hope for rescue. Well, she wasn't planning to help anyone but herself. Once she'd gunned down the creatures who'd been tormenting her, personally, she was going to shoot her way outta there and make her way to the surface. She certainly wasn't going to stay in this dusty tomb a moment longer than she had to... and she didn't want to think about the goat-headed creature in the center of the obelisk pentacle who, fortunately, seemed preoccupied with the crazy girl who'd led them all down there.

With a sneer, she pulled the trigger, and the explosive noise of gunfire resounded amongst the stone walls loud enough to deafen every human there. Satiah, however, was too caught up in her pleasure to notice, and Martine was nearly the same. Ehsan watched the bullets hit the green wool of the approaching rams and goats, with satisfaction - and then felt her eyes widening as puffs of black smoke emerged from the points of impact, and nothing else. The animals didn't flinch or hesitate - they just continued marching towards her. Roaring a curse, she held down the trigger, struggling to control the bucking rifle as she unloaded the entire magazine in the direction of the closest ram. Most of the bullets hit, peppering his large mass with tiny explosions of black smoke - but he only brayed angrily at her, murder in his eyes.

Then, as the rifle clicked on an empty chamber, they charged. The ram she'd just wasted most of the ammunition on reached her first, covering the distance between them in a split second. His curly horns struck her with the force of an oncoming truck, breaking bones and rupturing organs as she went flying through the air and hit the stone wall behind her with a wet thunk. The others, however, were not far behind - and their charge continued. As she bounced back from the wall, body wracked by agony, they reached her - and she found herself juggled against the wall by repeated impacts, like a rubber ball on a bad day. The rapid succession of impacts destroyed several more bones and caused significant internal damage to her. When the charge finally ended, and she was allowed to fall to the ground, she was learning new definitions of pain as she horked up large quantities of blood and what seemed to be pieces of her lungs. Blood was also covering her eyes from a cut in her forehead where a goat had hit her, and she could feel her scalp shifting - like the skull underneath was already fragmented, and just barely holding together.

They did not stop there. As she collapsed helpless to the ground, the animals closed in around her and finished the job with sharp hooves and steel-hard teeth. With inhuman strength, they literally tore her limb from limb, and then stomped the remnants into mush as her screams died away into a gurgling silence. From his throne, Khnum watched with a sad shake of his head... but a satisfied smirk on his face. He had already learned much of what the world looked like in this age, from his examination of Satiah's memories, and he knew that many of the things he'd consider grave sins were shrugged off in this time. But on this point, at least, it seemed that past and present was in agreement - the woman called Ehsan had committed a grave and unforgivable sin. And he had ensured that she would pay for it, in full measure...

The goats and rams, blood splattered across their faces and legs, stepped away from the lifeless pile of liquefied organs and pulverized bone that had once been a human. Standing slightly back, they looked on passively as the closest of the obelisks flashed from blue-green to bright red, and a beam shot from its tip down to the pile of bloody giblets. With an indescribable sound, the pile wobbled and begin to change shape, even as the spreading pool of blood that surrounded it receded, pulled back by some strange gravity. The drops of blood that garnished the watching animals were pulled directly off their wool to fall to the floor, where the tiny spheres of red tumbled across the surface like a liquid tumbleweed to join the rapidly-disappearing pool.

Before the eyes of Khnum and his Totemic Beasts, Ehsan Mahmoud was reborn, her naked body reforming into its original shape, entirely unblemished and alive. She was scrunched together in fetal position, hugging her knees as her eyes stared into the wall with unseeing intensity. She remembered everything. The pain of her body being rammed, crushed, torn apart. The welcoming embrace of oblivion, the descending darkness of death. And then... a brief vision of a man with the head of a black canine, grinning in a way both predatory and sadistic. Then the light returned, and with it the pain. Her bones snapping back into place. Her organs beginning to shakily function again. Her skin knitting back into one piece.

She could feel them around her. Their intent and desires. Their bloodlust was somewhat sated, but they would happily do it all over again. Their dark desires burned behind the anger. Scrambling to her feet, a rictus-grin on her face, she dashed in amongst them and fell to her knees behind a goat as she buried her face in his rear. Her tongue dug greedily into his asshole, lubricating and massaging the sphincter before pushing past it as her lips matched up to the wrinkly circle in an eager kiss. She was no longer driven by mere fear, but by an all-consuming, awestruck terror that left no room for any other feelings. The beasts were invincible and immortal. Death offered no escape. Pain beyond comprehension was the reward for rebellion.

When she sensed a presence behind her, she quickly reached back to part her buttocks with her hands, supporting her body with her face pressed against the goat's rear end. The accumulated layer of lubrication that her rapists had previously built up had been lost somewhere in her death and rebirth, and the first few rounds of sodomy would involve agonizing amounts of friction. She was eager for it. Compared to what she'd just experienced, it was as a drop of rain next to a surging sea. To avoid experiencing that again, she would surrender her body - and every shred of pride and self-respect she'd ever had - to the beasts without a second thought.

Ai had watched the whole thing. Seeing Ehsan's agonizing death and rebirth, her body had seized up for a moment, her eyes wide and filled with panicked tears. Then, her limbs had grown subtle, her body relaxing as the light in her eyes dimmed. She'd always had a fragile ego, and had sought to protect it by lashing out at everything she could dream up a 'cause' against. The events of the last few hours - and, to a lesser degree, the last few days - had broken her down, bit by bit. Watching that impossible and terrifying display had torn apart the last of her will. She could feel the desires and intentions of the creatures around her, as naturally as if they were her own thoughts. It was far easier to simply let them move her than to think for herself...

The surrounding beasts sensed her implicit surrender, the leaking-out of her remaining hesitation and resistance. A few of the nastier beasts who had gravitated towards her rather than Ehsan quickly tested the limits of her new pliability - and they quickly concluded that neither gulping down a bladderful of hot piss, nor carefully tongue-cleaning a reeking asshole would cause her a moment's hesitation anymore. With Ai and Ehsan thus broken to their will, and Martine having long-since decided to just go with the flow, the beasts pushed the ongoing orgy towards new heights of depravity, giving their creativity free reign as they pushed the three girls back together to enable new, interesting combinations.

Soon, the three women found themselves mashed together in both the physical and metaphorical sense, each of them simply going along with the least whim of their captors. They shared deep, intimate kisses while mounted from behind, tasting ass and piss on one another's tongues. They licked freshly-fucked assholes, digging dollops of thick cum with the approximate consistency of cream cheese out of the stretched-out orifices with their tongues. The ram who had struck the first blow that sent Ehsan flying received a special treatment - with Martine enthusiastically sucking his cock, Ai carefully licking his dangling testicles, and Ehsan dutifully tonguing his asshole, all at the same time... while all three, of course, were being vigorously ass-fucked by rams and goats behind them.

When she wasn't occupied in 'group events', however, the anger-filled goats and rams that had attached themselves to Ehsan found new ways to take advantage of her complete pliability. Not satisfied with merely humiliating her, they began to torment her outright, starting with her heavy, dangling breasts. Strong, square teeth closed around the sensitive nipples, biting and chewing, gnawing on the tiny nubs with enough strength to send spikes of sharp pain through her body, but not quite enough to draw blood. Once they'd done this for a while, making sure she got the message, they commanded her to lie on her back with her legs spread, pulling her labia open and her clitoral hood back with her fingers. Even then, she obeyed without hesitation, and somehow managed to maintain the pose as a succession of goats and rams ducked their heads between her legs to chew on her exposed clit for a while. For all the torturous pain it caused, she could not forget how endlessly much worse it would be if she resisted, and so, she endured.

The Totemic Beasts were ancient, and knew the depths of human depravity from experience. They were not bound by physical limitations, and both their balls and their bladders could produce endless deluges. Even as the girls began to struggle under the weight of fatigue, their pussies and assholes worn red and packed with several layers of cum, their stomachs heavy and distended from numerous loads of cum and piss, the beasts were tireless and unrelenting. As long as their master continued to watch over them, they could carry on the orgy, fucking the three women into a trancelike stupor.

Satiah, of course, had been in such a state for hours, having completely missed the gory events involving Ehsan, and indeed everything else that had transpired. When she finally snapped out of it, it was because Khnum had drunk his fill of her ecstasy and let his own pleasure flow free. With a braying moan, he came, filling her elongated womb with a creamy cumload that stretched it to the limit. The cervix wasn't nearly as tight as it had been when he started, worn down by having his cockhead punching through it every few seconds, but it was still enough to restrain his thick cum from flowing back out that way. Her womb ballooned out, creating a visible bulge down the front of her chest, belly and abdomen, like a sperm-filled sausage... with a bit of extra mutton-sausage at the center.

The sensation pushed her beyond the plateau of mind-bending pleasure she'd hovered on for the duration of the ride, paradoxically snapping her out of her pleasure-induced trance by giving her an orgasm that was climactic even compared to what had gone before. As she moaned hoarsely, her body shook in spastic fits, and her arms waved around to find something to steady herself on. They fell on Khnum's bare chest, her right hand landing directly on top of his necklace. While he had been but a statue, locked in the stone-sleep, it had been a series of baked-clay infants... but when the layer of rock and dirt had fallen away from him, it had also fallen from his jewelry. The small figurines had revealed, underneath, a chaotic collection of tiny faience figurines, depicting various hieroglyphics and ancient idols.

The ice-cold sensation radiating through her hand and up her arm was entirely lost amidst the flood of pleasure that had overwhelmed her mind, and she didn't even notice, simply clinging to the necklace to keep herself steady on top of the immense rod. It took nearly ten minutes for her to return to some semblance of consciousness again, still impaled on Khnum's impossibly-long shaft, but no longer overstimulated by the constant thrusting. It was only then that she noticed what she was holding on to, and felt the lingering ache in her palm. Reflexively, she pulled her hand away and looked at it.

In her palm, a mark had been burned in - like a brand. It resembled a traditional Egyptian vase, of the sort the Greeks would have called an amphora - designed for storage of various goods, as well as decoration. As a hieroglyphic, it was the symbol of potters - and of Khnum. She looked up at him, marveling in the warmth of his smile. "By that mark, I take you for my High Priestess and my God-Wife. I saw no reason to delay - I have tasted enough of your mind to know that you are eminently suitable for both honors." Then his smile became naughtier, his lips peeling back to show his perfectly square teeth, while his hands tightened around her waist again. "However, I am far from ready to call the quits of this meeting. Before we part, I shall know you in every way... as is my prerogative as your husband."

She could find no words to express her elation, and thus only gasped as he lifted her up and off his immense cock. As soon as he deposited her back on the seat of his throne, kneeling between his legs, she bent over the impressive instrument again, tongue reaching eagerly for the remnants of thick, rich cum that still clung to the shaft. Once she started licking it, however, she soon picked up the unmistakable scent of human piss from further down, and flinched with the realization of where it came from. Khnum watched with a tolerant smile as she not only licked his cock clean, but also sucked and licked the piss and pussy-juice out of the short, rough wool surrounding his sheath. Only when she was done did he leap into action again, to carry out his promise.

Over the next hour, he explored her body fully. He no longer had any reason to hold back, and climaxed frequently and copiously, every drop of the thick fluid being eagerly absorbed into Satiah's body. She bent easily to his every whim, as did her body, which he quickly reshaped to suit his desires. Straightening out a bit of her lower intestine so that she could take his full length into her ass without any unpleasant bending of his slender shaft was a simple matter, no more than the caressing movement of a single hand along her spine. Her body moved lustily below him, anally impaled on his might spear as she mounted her from behind on the floor before the throne, in the same manner that the lesser cousins of his Totemic Beasts had done so many times.

Her throat was a more complex job, but his fingers danced around her neck with the practiced ease of a true master. Soon, she was kneeling before him with his entire rod lodged down her esophagus, tickling her stomach from above as she breathed heavily through her nose - which was, of course, planted squarely in his pungent crotch-wool, which still smelled vaguely like her own piss. Her throat bulged dangerously around his thick shaft, but she was managing it easily... and thanks to him rerouting her nasal passages, she could still breathe.

Khnum amused himself by teasing her a bit at this point, holding her head in place as he began to piss. She could feel it through his shaft, the pulsing flow of golden liquid, and even hear the whistling of the stream - but as his urethra emptied it directly into her stomach, she could not taste or smell it, and he felt her writhing in response. Soon, however, he relented, and let her pull back until just his head rested in her mouth, filling it with the warm, bitter flow. Her cheeks bulged out as she swallowed repeatedly, and with a content sigh, he let her drink her fill. He was, after all, the Source of the Nile. No part of him would run dry anytime soon.

For the rest of the session, as he continued to invade her every orifice and pound her with powerful thrusts, her distended stomach wobbled with every thrust, sloshing audibly as the contents were thrown around. Needless to say, the sensation did little to dull her ardor, and she eagerly spread her legs, buttocks, lips, and anything else she could think of for her lord, god, and husband. When at last he was satisfied, she was covered in sweat and cum-stains, lacking the energy to do more than just lie on the floor, breathing heavily. Nonetheless, the smile creasing her lips was one of intense satisfaction.

Khnum, meanwhile, was back on his throne, feeling relaxed and satisfied after tasting both her pleasure and his own. His Totemic Beasts, responding to his state of mind, were starting to calm down as well, with most of them drifting away from the three exhausted, sweat-drenched women between them. A few were still going, pounding away at sore holes that squirted out cum around the edges with every thrust, but at least the women weren't completely surrounded by a wall of woolly bodies anymore. Khnum watched them silently as he let his mind reach out towards his brethren. Two other gods were already awake. The Order were clearly serious about bringing them back. Such an earnest request could not be ignored. He'd need to be at his best.

He'd have to instruct his Totemic Beasts to make sure they impregnated the women while they were having their fun. He'd need even greater numbers, at least until the rest of the gods awakened as well. With this in mind, he made a quick gesture, calling one of the rams over from the mixed, bright-green herd. As the horse-sized animal stopped beside his throne, Khnum glanced down at Satiah, who was just starting to get her breath back as she stared vaguely up at the ceiling, and clicked his tongue. Then he reached one hand down beneath the ram's flanks, rubbing the sheath that the animal's cock had retreated into after his interest in the three prisoners had died down. Under his touch, it swelled, growing and expanding in length and width.

The ram grinned appreciatively as Khnum released his grip again, and he returned it with a severe look. "Don't get the wrong idea, little brother..." he said seriously. "This is no reward for you. I am merely taking responsibility for the changes I've wrought within her body. She will need you to be at least that well-equipped to be satisfied... and you will need to work hard to do so." The ram, of course, did not reply - but Khnum could sense his irreverent satisfaction with the fact that he now had a dick ALMOST as big as Khnum's. He sighed and shook his head at the attitude. "Just make sure you look after her... not that I suspect she'll need much looking after. I think I might have given her more of my power than I really should have."

Satiah had, of course, heard every word - but she was too tired and happy to think about them too much. Her mind was flooded with enough endorphins to knock out an elephant, and she could only smile beatifically at the ceiling as Khnum rose from his throne again and stepped forwards to the center of the dais. He paused there and looked down at her, nodding. "Until we meet again, my High Priestess, my God-Wife. Do my work on this world." Even in her present state, she remembered the proper reply for this. "Until next time, my lord, my god, my husband. I will serve you always."

Then Khnum raised his hands, and in a flash of blue-green light, he was gone... along with the immense, green rams and goats, the three women, and every indication that anything supernatural had happened in the chamber. Left behind were an empty AK-47, a scattered pile of shell-casings, a powerful flashlight lying on the floor near the exit, a very tired and sweaty woman lying naked on the raised dais... and an ordinary-seeming ram, with white wool and black skin, no taller than a grown man's waist. The animal brayed, the sound echoing unpleasantly between the hard walls, and Satiah responded with a grunt as she forced herself to sit up.

Exhausted as she was, she couldn't stay. She needed to get back to the surface. They would be waiting for her, nervous about being discovered by the authorities, and probably worried about her, too. The ritual had taken significantly longer than expected. Pushing herself to her feet with a drawn-out groan, she found the ram sidling up to her side, and gratefully supported herself against his woolen flank as she began the long ascend back to the desert above.

END - KHNUM IS FREE