B. Alexander Howerton Read Online Free PDF Page A

serrated dagger of gold.  She stepped in front of the altar
and spoke in a regal, measured tone.
    “People of Uruk, our time of uncertainty has passed.  Inanna
has seen fit to restore that which Enlil sought to take away.  Our new king
Ulanpazzal was taken away from us long before he could fulfill his primary
duty, but Inanna, who has journeyed to the land of the dead and back, has
provided for us new seed.  Shall we make a new king, and restore fertility to
the land?”
    Triumphant cries of “Yes!  Yes!” filled the hall.
    The priestess turned, strode to the end of the altar to
which the captives feet were lashed, and gazed down at him.  The crowd settled
down into a low chant, which, if the prisoner could understand it, he would
have heard, “Inanna, grant us a new king.”
    The priestess suddenly slashed downward with her right hand,
and the captive’s tattered loincloth fell away in a heap, cut by the knife,
leaving him naked.  She raised the urn to the statue.  “Inanna, we offer this
blessing to you.”  She poured the wine all over the length of the prisoner’s
body, handed it to an attendant priest, then leaned over and began licking the
wine off him.  Fear filled his eyes at the strange, unexpected ritual.  Her
tongue wandered up and down his body, and eventually stopped at his groin.  She
licked all around the area between his legs.  The prisoner, despite his fear,
was unable to refrain from responding, due to the powerful aphrodisiac that he
had no way of knowing was an integral ingredient of the wine. She wrapped her
lips around his shaft, and increased her tempo slowly, along with the
increasing rhythm of the chanting crowd and music. 
    Once she perceived he was as erect as possible, she stood up
and ceremoniously removed her belt and skirt, handing them to another attending
priest.  She climbed up on the altar, still holding the golden knife, and stood
astride the captive’s hips.  She began to undulate her hips in time to the
chants, and lowered herself slowly.  She reached down with her left hand and
guided the prisoner into her, maintaining the rhythm of the chant.  She
undulated and rocked as the tempo increased, and the prisoner began to writhe,
too, as the pleasure of being inside the priestess began to possess his body.
    After a time, he began to moan, closed his eyes, and tipped
his head back.  The priestess, sensing he was nearing his climax, increased her
undulations.  Finally the captive arched his back and let out a deep, low
moan.  The priestess, feeling his release inside her, swiftly raised her golden
dagger and plunged it deeply into the captive’s heart.  The captive’s head shot
up and his eyes opened wide, staring into hers, the final surprise of death
etched on his face.  He then fell back, and was still.  The priestess, still
astride him, sawed at his chest, until she could reach in and pull out his
heart.  The blood ran down the sides of his thick chest onto the altar, into
little channels that ran along the sides of the altar into waiting gold cups. 
Attending priests stood by, patiently waiting for them to fill. 
    The priestess held the captive’s heart high above her head
and cried,  “He has given me seed, and he has given us his lifeblood.  We will
pour his blood upon the thirsty land, and we will have a new king.  We must
give thanks to this stranger, who is the incarnation of Dumuzi.”
    To chants of “Thank you, o great dying-and-reviving Dumuzi,
who gives us life, thank you,” she squeezed the heart over her tilted-back
head, and drank every drop of blood that splashed into her mouth.  The stone in
the hands of the statue of the goddess Inanna radiated multi-hued rays of light
upon her followers.

4.   Today — Alan
    “I’m joining the he-man woman hater’s club!  I’m serious
this time!”  Alan said, then guzzled the rest of his Budweiser.  With one
motion he crushed the can and whipped it into the bonfire.
    Steve chuckled,