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5
Zanika
The interiorof the limestone palace is dark, despite the sun shining outside. Hundreds of candles in their brass holders light the halls. We are led through the innards of the building and, to my dismay, see what is going on in the open rooms of the palace.
I see a slave girl tied to some kind of ungodly harness. She is hanging from the ceiling with her arms tied tightly to her sides and her knees bent so that her heels are touching her behind. Her mouth has been forced open by a horrendous gag that make it impossible to close her lips. I can see tears in her eyes as two muscular, inked men violate her. One is ramming her from behind, holding on to her long brown hair. The other has forced his penis into her mouth, and they fuck her in the same rhythm from the front and behind.
The next room reveals more than a dozen naked cult members cropping and whipping two girls in the middle of their circle. All of them shout obscenities at the poor women who are being forced to violate themselves with a collection of phalluses carved from stone. One of the girls is bent over on all fours, completely naked, while the other is whipped and berated by the men until she sticks a large fake phallus up the ass of the other girl.
The cheering becomes an echo as the next room reveals itself to be somewhat less intense but as disgusting. A cult member sits on a naked slave girl who has been forced onto all fours. I can see a fresh brand on her ass. While the branded girl is being used as a seat by the inked man, another slave girl services his phallus on her knees in front of him. The disgusting pig groans wildly as he forces her head down roughly by the hair, essentially fucking her face with his cock. When the man looks over at the precession of fresh meat, his groans became more intense, and he finishes in the girl’s mouth.
I feel like I want to throw up. My palms are sweaty, and I feel dizzy. It could be the walk through the night, but I know that it is the thought of having to perform any of these deeds. I have been brought to a fucked-up palace of sex slavery. It makes sense now why all of us slaves are women. They don’t want to use us for any kind of work; they want to use us for our bodies. If we refuse, we are probably taken out into the street and tortured to death or impaled on a spike forthwith. I start to think that maybe I should have taken my chances with Ansapata. There are worse things than death.
But there is nothing I can do, chained as I am, so I keep walking along the terrible hallway. At the end I can see a vast room filled with even more candles. The illumination carries out into the corridor, as does the boisterous cheering of men in the room just next door. They are gathered around two naked women, one with a knife in hand and another with a small axe. They circle each other like lions their prey. I can see multiple cuts and bruises on both of them, and it becomes apparent that they are being forced to fight each other. When they do not attack for a moment, a man steps in with a bull whip and strikes the girl holding the knife on the back. She immediately charges her opponent, furiously cutting away, her eyes gleaming with insanity. I close my eyes in terror as not to see the outcome of this horrendous sport.
We make it into the large illuminated hall. Inside we find many cult members lounging around, drinking wine, singing songs, and, of course, fucking slave girls. The girls are used as waitresses, sex dolls, and even as furniture. In the middle of the room there is a large throne. In it sits someone with a large Anubis mask on his face. It looks almost to merge with his skin. He sits on his massive throne with a naked slave girl as his footstool. To his side another naked girl kneels with a collar around her neck, attached to a leash in the clenched fist of this terrifying figure. He stands up, pulling the girl along with him, leaving the other there with her ass hoisted in the air. None of the girls makes eye contact with us new arrivals; they all look broken.
This Anubis steps forward and I can now see that he is a towering figure. He must stand almost seven feet tall with shoulders as wide as an average doorframe. Like the others, he is inked completely black, which enhances his rippling muscles even further. His body lacks the white patterning of the other cult members but is covered in scars. He walks towards us completely naked, massive black member hanging between his legs.
He walks past all of us, eyes gleaming through the holes in the mask. He says nothing but looks each one of his new slaves up and down, examining us. His naked slave crawls behind him, head down, too ashamed to look up. She knows that we will be in the same position in no time. He takes one of the new girls by the chin roughly. She whimpers as he inspects her face. He sticks a finger in her mouth, and I can see that she is too terrified to resist. He takes the finger out and sticks it in the mouth of the next girl. I can hear him breathing hard underneath his ornamental mask.
He gets to me and takes my chin in his strong hand. I steel myself and don’t make a sound either out of fear or pain. I look directly at him as he studies my face.
“This one is the most beautiful. She will be mine,” he says matter-of-factly, violently letting go of my chin.
Our escorts immediately hurry to untie me from the chains that bind me to the other girls. I look down at the poor girl tethered to his leash and realize that I am about to become her. My heart racing, I try to come up with some way to avoid that fate. Around me I see only cult members and the depravity and torture they inflict on slaves. There is no way out, but I can’t bring myself to lower myself like that. It’s like my entire life is flashing in front of my eyes. Could everything I have been through be leading to me being enslaved as a pet for an insane cult leader who thinks he is Anubis? Can that really be my destiny?
“Come, slave,” Anubis says in his deep voice. When I don’t step forward, two cult members take me roughly by the shoulders and take me to him. He sits back in his throne, and I am thrown onto my knees in front of him. He kicks the woman who was acting as his footstool in the side lightly and she crawls off behind the throne.
“It will undress and bow down to the lord of the dead. It will kiss the lord’s feet and swear allegiance to Anubis for the rest of its mortal life. Does it understand?” Anubis says from his throne, staring at me from beneath his mask.
I can’t believe this is happening. I steal a glance at the girl on his leash and, for the first time, she looks at me. I see genuine fear in her eyes as she gives me a slight encouraging nod, as if saying that doing this is better than the alternative. I, personally, cannot see much worse of a fate. I would rather die than live the rest of my days as a dog and personal plaything for a whack-job.
My heart is pounding in my chest and thoughts race through my mind creating an incoherent web of possible actions. I know that my only chance of escaping torture is to do exactly as he says, but then I would be giving up my entire life. How can someone be expected to make this decision at a moment’s notice?
“Why has it not done as its god commands?” Anubis asks, his voice rising with anger.
Without knowing exactly what I’m doing, I bolt toward the only source of daylight in the entire room. A small hallway leading out of the hellish chamber. Before I can even consider if this is the stupidest thing I have ever done, I find myself smashed onto the granite floor by the arm of a cult member. The air is forced out of my lungs, and I gasp for air as I am dragged back to Anubis’s throne.
“I see it will need some help submitting. It still has some pride,” Anubis says with what I imagine is genuine glee.
I continue to gasp for air at his feet, trying to get one ounce of oxygen back into my lungs. The cult members laugh as Anubis continues, “Take the other slaves to their new duties. I will be dealing with this one—personally.”
I finally get some air into my lungs, but with the loss of that immediate panic, the panic of my impending torture invades my whole body. I look up and glimpse Anubis’s hand just as it grabs me by the throat. I try to scream as loud as I can, but no noise comes out of my mouth under the crushing weight of his grip. I am dragged toward the light, kicking, but unable to scream.
