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Part Two

Samples > Chapter Two

Sowing the Seed


A Priestess entered the Chamber of Conception, where I was sitting. She carried a tray laden with food and drink. I had not tasted food since the night before. It was the traditional hour for the noon meal, but I have been instructed to eat very little. The mango was fresh and free of blemish. Once slit with a flint, the skin peeled back and the sweet, yellow flesh came right off as my teeth scraped around the stone. The roast duck shone with rich fat and when I broke the crackly skin, the meat practically fell off the bones. It was moist and the aroma of five spices was alluring. The leeks and radishes were crisp and washed clean. The bread was still warm from the oven. I finished the mango, ate a small piece of duck and a few vegetables. Then I washed the food down with a goblet of wine. I finished the meal with a few morsels of bread. To remain alert, eating had to be restrained. Still, I felt pleasantly filled and mildly intoxicated.

The Priestess, who had been watching without interrupting me, spread a mat on the floor of the chamber, removed the tray and left. I noticed that Ra had declined and the three cubits long ceiling shaft no longer allowed his rays to penetrate directly into the chapel. The light was gray and thin. I lay down on the mat and fell asleep. I don’t know how long I slept but I awoke to many hands massaging my body lightly, sensuously. These Priestesses looked at me invitingly: their every movement was lascivious and erotic. The musicians had also returned into the chamber. One set of drums beat the rhythm of the heart and another set that of conception. Someone motioned me to move back to my chair and handed me a goblet of wine. I drank it and returned the goblet. The Priestesses now turned their erotic movements towards each other. Soon male dancers joined them. Their hands expressed the sensuousness of the skin. Their lips moved lightly from the female dancers’ lips to their nipples, back to their necks, then, as the men knelt, they sunk their faces into the Priestesses’ soft belly. As the dance continued, one female dancer mounted her partner, her thighs wound around the man’s waist, her arms cradling her partner’s head. Another Priestess turned away from her partner, bent over and moved her buttocks invitingly. Her partner moved into them obligingly. The third Priestess, a slight girl, jumped to mount her partner, but he took her momentum, grabbed her buttocks, sidestepped her, arched his back and swung her legs right up into the air. Her hands swung around his neck and he slowly lowered her right onto his erect phallus. As the dancers began to sweat with the sacred act of procreation, their sight, sounds and scent filled my mind and overpowered me. I began to sweat also, straining against the chair. In sheer frustration I asked myself: “How long must I remain a spectator at my own nuptial?” In the ecstasy of arousal, brought on by the slowly merging bodies and the primal drum rhythms, time melted away. I did not see the nubile dancers part and move into the shadows. I did not notice the drumbeat continue only in my head. Silence reigned in the Chamber of Conception but my Ka, my imaginative reality, had moved into the presence of the Goddess, Hathor herself.

I looked around. I was in the stables with clean straw spread on the floor. Hathor, the Goddess of Love appeared in the form of the Heavenly Cow. She raised her tail and let a stream of urine splash onto the ground. I saw myself as Apis, the divine bull with a white star on my forehead, the sign of the bull’s unique pedigree. I pawed the ground, my nostrils flared. I raised my head high up in the air and roared. I performed the expected mating dance. Hathor coyly egged me on, then retreated. I caught up with her. She moved away. I cornered her and was about to mount her when a gong sounded. I returned from the divine vision, rose from the chair, shocked to find myself with an erection.

I was alone in the Chamber of Conception. I strained my ears but soft sand covering the large flagstones dampened any footfall. A shadowy figure materialized at the doorway, shimmered in the twilight and stopped at the altar. Two others approached me. The brush of a nipple against my arm filled me with a tinge of anticipation. The smell of burning incense filled the chapel. Expert hands began to anoint me with sweet smelling unguents from alabaster jars. They covered everything except my genitals.

Then they led me to the altar where the third figure stood. I could not see her clearly as a thin veil covered her head and upper body.

Slowly and sensuously she rubbed a salve onto my testicles and anointed my phallus with long, slow strokes. Then she pulled me by the buttocks close to her, lay back on the low altar and folded her thighs onto her stomach. Her upraised vagina almost talked to me with its scents of various bodily fluids and sweet smelling unguents. The long wait and the intense anticipation focused all my energy into my groin.

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