Etienne
Etienne came into the world in a pool of blood. Isa, his mother was hemorrhaging profusely on the arrival of her oversize newborn. It took many weeks for Isa to recuperate. Many times, she could be found lying alone in bed haunted by memories. Ten months earlier, she was brooding over Ozzie her husband, who would be away for three more weeks travelling through South America. Isa could not withstand being alone. Horace, Ozzie’s older brother, suddenly appeared at the door. She did not especially like her brother in law. In the early months of Ozzie’s orderly courting, Horace had been quite rude pressing her to leave Ozzie and to make love with him. She had promptly dispatched him, yet the memory remained.
Today she welcomed his visit, and Horace could not hide his surprise when she took his hand and led him to the kitchen. She even let him hold her in an embrace. The feeling of her body over his ignited an untamed mass of repressed desire. His mouth charged her lips in a furious bite. She began to taste blood and pressed with all her strength to repel his assault. He held her at arm’s length and slapped her violently to floor. She lifted her head, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Take your clothes off,” he ordered. All of a sudden she felt a burst of pleasurable lust invade the bottom of her stomach and rise to her throat. “OK! OK! I am yours,” she screamed, half choking. Horace kept her down holding her hair and pointed to his crotch. Isa catching her breath slid his zipper. She pulled out his throbbing organ and wrapped her mouth around it. Isa was used to the gentle loving of Ozzie and Horace’s violence was arousing in her passion by the yard challenging every pores and every nerve of her body. Horace began pounding at her throat with impunity. She felt her chatte warming to uncontrolled stormy waves of bliss. He pulled out of her mouth and swiftly lifted her over the counter top. He buried his face in a welcoming drenched pussy and began licking and biting with accrued brutality. Isa had lost all control. Her voice was transformed to a hysterical shrill. Her body was shuddering in orgasms. He turned her over to the floor and penetrated her with equal violence. Within seconds he was ejaculating inside her womb as she came with an ultimate climax. He fell over her and in total exhaustion, both fell asleep.
They awoke at the same time and Horace left without a word. High in the sky, Horus was delighted by the performance reliving his passionate encounter with Isis. Osiris hidden in a cloud was also watching but with apprehension. He could not help noticing the strange expression on Isis’ face. A few week after Ozzie retuned home, they were at the clinic to learn that Isa was expecting what she hoped would be a boy. Horace for his part would never return alone in Isa’s presence.
Very early in his life Etienne became conscious of his unique attributes that were drawing the admiration but also the fear of most who would come close to him. He took great pleasure with life, conquering anything he desired. Yet he was constantly harassed by an unexplainable feeling of guilt. Before she left this world, Isa confessed to her son the guilt of the passionate surrender that haunted their life. His education opened the world to his imagination and in no time he began travelling in pursuit of his destiny. A year earlier, Etienne was invited by the Egyptian government to participate in the development of health care infrastructures. He was drawn unknowingly toward his destiny.
From the terrace of the Manah House, a few hundred meters north of the great pyramids, Etienne was enjoying a cocktail with his guests in a torrid Cairo afternoon. He heard the explosion and saw the flames emerge across the road. The chauffeur came swiftly to guide the group to the limousine. They left for the Hilton. They heard about the police uprising on the car radio. Etienne’s business trip was cut short. That night, his dream transported him over the Nile. He could see a blonde goddess on a boat. Her glowing image was projected in the cloud by the moonbeam engulfing her. She was holding the railing in observation of the riverbank. He could share through her eyes the vision of a white horse bathing, a monkey on its back holding a cat, and a red bird flying overhead. “Etienne, you are awakening to meet your destiny. Your lover, taken from you five thousand three hundred and forty four years ago, is reborn. Twenty four years of apprenticeship have completed her millennial preparation to fuse her soul with yours. You will be back on this site of your last encounter within a few months. You will be reunited with your Justine and resume your karma of eternal lovers.”
The Valley of the Kings
Justine was jogging along the dusty paths of the Valley of the Kings. Over a period of nearly 500 years from the 16th to the 11th century BC, the pyramids were constructed for the Pharaohs in the vicinity of Thebes. She was reviewing the film of her visit of many tombs adorned with multicolored hieroglyphs. The ancient tombs took a new life with the marvelous tales revealed in Mustapha’s translation. Mustapha, her tour guide, described himself as a true Egyptian from ancient times. He told of another lifetime, when he was appointed by Pharaoh to care for a pretty Greek slave. He was haunted by his love for his mistress, a love that he was not given the right to consume. He was a guide in the Valley of the Kings by day, and worked the hotel in the evenings.
Justine had spent a few hours visiting friends of friends near the Valley. After a copious dinner, she decided to withdraw for a warm bath and an early sleep. She entered the hotel and noticed Mustapha preparing a table. She walked toward him and wrapped him in her arms. She felt herself drowning in the pools of his wide dark eyes and heard herself say, “Knock on my door after you finish your work.”
The slight knock pulled her from a light sleep. She walked over to open the door. Mustapha was overcome by the beauty of her naked body, revealed in the dim nightlight. He fell on his knees, with tears rolling from his eyes and kissing her hands he whispered. “My mistress, I have you at last for a brief moment. I hope you will pardon my impertinence. I was a eunuch trained to maintain my Pharaoh’s favorite mistress in safety and in a state of elation. For a brief moment, I failed you by my brief absence. I was condemned to a life of despair, wandering the world in the search of you.”
Justine pressed his head on her belly and his moist lips began brushing her flesh until they met the wetness of her pussy. He began licking and gently biting her bud with growing passion. She started backing slowly to the bed, without disturbing his labor. She let herself fall to the mattress, keeping her thighs open, encouraging his ardor. She held his head tightly by his long hair, forcing his face deep inside her. She feared that she would swallow his frail body entirely when she began pulsing with pleasure.
She opened her eyes to see that she was alone. She slipped on her djabella and went out of the room. There were no signs of Mustapha. The old night attendant was sound asleep. “I have been here for forty years and I have never heard of any Mustapha working at this hotel. I am sorry that I cannot be of assistance. Good night!” and the old man went back to sleep.
A bolt of lightning brightened the night. Justine could see the white horse riding in the sky and heard in her soul the voice of Mustapha holding the cat, with the red bird perched on his shoulders, “Thank you my goddess, he exclaimed for I will soon regain my freedom.”
Interlude in Yugoslavia
Upon her return to Cairo, a letter reminded Justine of an engagement with Mamie Hélène, wishing her to join a brief vacation in Yugoslavia. Justine was Mamie’s favorite travel companion. She would not consider refusing her invitation. The trip also provided an excuse to be away from Darius and to postpone her announcement of the break up.
Yugoslavia, formerly the kingdom of Montenegro, is nestled between Italy and Greece. “Yugoslavia is a country of fairy tales.” Mamie was enjoying the warm afternoon sun and an early dinner with Justine. “I hope you will not be too offended that I will be going to bed soon after dinner.” Justine was smiling at Mamie, reassuring her that she would be quite happy to visit the little village by night, and maybe have a drink at the local disco before hitting the sack. The smile on her face did not go unnoticed by the young bartender. While awaiting Mamie’s arrival, Justine had been attracted by the young man’
s great looks. They had enough time to get acquainted and organize a date for the evening. “I will meet you in front of the church and I will take you to a disco nearby.”
Justine was studying intensely every part of her body, applying cream and a few sprinkles of her favorite body lotion. She was augmenting the excitement of the future encounter with the young Apollo. She smiled her appreciation for the black dress. The dress would reveal just enough of her charms. She was already certain of his surrender and could anticipate his eyes invading her privacy.
She had not waited more than a few minutes when he appeared. He lifted her against his body and kissed her. His lips felt like ripened peaches and she responded avidly. His cologne smelled of musk. “Let’s go to the disco,” he grabbed her hand and they began running. They entered the disco, but after a while, she found the music ordinary and the ambiance a tad antique. The slight bulge on his jeans left little doubt that her looks did not leave him indifferent. She stood and walked to the dance floor and facing the mirror, she began swaying with movements that she knew to be effective. After a short while, the young man appeared on the dance floor and pulled her swiftly toward a door marked “Emergency Exit.” The door opened to a corridor, leading to another Exit sign, flashing in the darkness. He left Justine and moved to the other door and locked the latch. He came and locked the first door, in the same manner. Justine was his prisoner and stood in the dim light, perplexed. He pressed her body against the wall and slipped both hands through her long blonde mane.
Holding her head, he moved his lips around the roots of her hair. He paused briefly on each earlobe and slid down over her eyes and nose. He resisted the invitation of her open lips and swept around her neck. Justine stood idle. Her body was absorbing the fine ripples of his moves as his hands slipped down her sides. She offered no resistance, when her dress dropped to the floor and two hands began fondling and spreading her buttocks. He turned her body and sat on the floor in front of her. He remained there, immobile, and she relished in the strong satisfaction shining from his eyes at merely exploring her nudity at close range. She was in a daze when he lifted her gently and placed her on the floor. She attempted to reach for him but he replaced her arms on her side. In a slow motion, he undid his jeans and she felt his manhood slide tenderly into her. They moved together in unison, until she could not withhold a scream blending with his heavy panting. They were shocked out of their hold by loud banging on the door. He grabbed his clothes and her dress and they ran out of the other door, naked and giggling in the night.
“I hope you had a good evening. I did not hear you come in,” Mamie was coming out of the bathroom. Justine was rolling in bed, still soaking in the delights and the unique smells of the evening. “It was okay, Mamie.”
Return to Cairo
Back in Cairo, under Isis and Osiris’s quiet supervision, the new graduate of the Egyptian language was ready for action. She began searching for opportunities to bring her education to good use. The possibility of a job would also spell freedom from the tedious relationship with Darius. “I read your advertisement in the Herald Tribune,” the baritone voiced businessman had explained on the phone. Justine was sitting on the Sheraton pontoon restaurant on the bank of the Nile. Sipping a bottle of water, she could not stop a nervous trembling in anticipation of her first job interview. The dark skinned gentleman was approaching her table at a slow pace and her heart was near stopping. “Good afternoon Justine.” She found the Lebanese gentleman pleasant when he took her hand in a moist handshake. He smiled. “I am honored to make your acquaintance.” He spoke at length about his business interests. His eyes though, were also talking about other interests. They kept shifting from the opening of her blouse to her thighs. He explained the need for an executive assistant to accompany him on his monthly travels. “Your knowledge of languages will become an asset for extending the business to Africa and the Middle East.” The conversation continued and he confirmed to Justine that she was perfect for the job. It took little time before he reached for her hand to expound on the lonely life of a traveling businessman.
When his large paw came to her thigh, it became quite explicit that he was offering a full time job, twenty four hours a day. Justine was not especially taken by surprise with the offer, but she wanted a little time to give it consideration. She sent the old boy on his way, promising that she would call soon.
The following day, she had met Patrice, a young businessman from Toulon. The small and scruffy Patrice represented no physical appeal for Justine. In addition, his business appeared undefined and uncertain. She felt unprepared to join the Lebanese twenty four hour circus, so she opted to try the job with Patrice. “At first, I will need you in Egypt, but very soon, you will be commuting between Toulon and Cairo.”
“At least,” thought Justine, “I will be able to escape gracefully from my Lebanese and Egyptian suitors.”
In the heavens, Sirius, the Sun and the Earth were lining up in space for their millennium encounter. In anticipation of the fifth Sirius anniversary from the ages that had witnessed the separation of Jhustis and Pharaoh, Isis and Osiris had overseen to the reincarnation of Jhustis and Pharaoh into Justine and Etienne. On this beautiful June afternoon, their paths were going to cross again after a separation of 5344 years.
Part Two: Dyad
“For it was not into my ear that you whispered, but into my heart.
It was not my lips that you kissed, but my soul.”
- Judy Garland
Chapter 6 - Horus’s offensive
The sighting
Justine was a blooming teenager when her grandparents acquired a late middle age bastides in the village of Brassac a few kilometers outside of Bergerac. The bastides were the residences of the royal prefects and tax collectors. The large mansion and its annexes were structured to receive the king’s share of the agricultural products from the land and vineyards.
On this quiet late July afternoon, the grandparents invited their favorite granddaughter to join them to take possession of the property. Maurice was bending, looking out the window over the Brassac roadway. “What a boring life!” he was brooding his displeasure. Maurice had just turned seventeen last week. He was entering pre qualifications for a degree in urban planning in the fall. But today Brassac was as dull as nowhere and never as ever. He was observing his mother feeding the chicken across the road.
A car came down the small country road and stopped a few feet from the window. A lady came out and pushed the little gate, to approach the main entrance. Germaine, Maurice’s mother, had seen the car arriving from the garden below and was climbing rapidly to the roadway. “Good afternoon Mrs. Obry. Welcome to Brassac. I have opened the rear door of your house for you and left the keys on the table.” Maurice was all attention for the unusual activities developing in front of the house, on this quiet Sunday afternoon. All of a sudden, he felt his heartbeats accelerate and he began gasping for air. The rear door of the car was opening and standing a few inches in front of him was the most beautiful girl that he had ever seen. She was tall. “My goodness, she stands centimeters above me,” he moaned. Long wavy blond hair was diving over her waistline, matching the bright yellow of her short dress and revealing endless and perfect legs and thighs. Her blue eyes flashed sparks arising from the golden complexion of her cheeks. Her lightly freckled face was glowing generously, bestowing beauty all around her. Maurice had never felt so excited in his entire life. Everything around him, so boring and dull, a few minutes before, was erupting filled with the colorful rainbow of deep emotions and tender fascination. She moved gracefully toward the two women in conversation. “Mamie, I will walk to the house.” She turned and passed in front of the window. Maurice stepped back. He could feel that his excitement had developed into a deep red complexion. He withdrew from the window, still attempting to catch his breath. Behind him stood his old grandmother. “I did not see you come in the house. Where were you all week, grandma?” he said turning towards the old witch. She was smilin
g at him strangely. “I do not see you smiling very often grandmother,” he said.
“I can observe from your face, that the feeling is mutual,” said his grandmother in her craggy voice and without another word, she turned away and left.
The hills above Brassac
The Brassac witches assemblies were led by Maurice’s grandmother. Tonight they were already in a trance, dancing, and gurgling wild and mystic incantations inspired by the ancient rites of Horus, revived long ago in ancient Egypt. The evidence given by a woman, who had been involved in the rites, to an investigative Paussac Prefect, stated:
“There was no crime, no deed of shame, wanting, more uncleanness. Whoever would not submit to defilement, or shrank from violating others, was sacrificed as a victim. Nothing was impious and criminal perversion was the sum total of their religion. The men, seized with madness and with frenzied distortions of their bodies, shrieked out prophecies. The matrons, dressed as devils, their hair disheveled, rushed down to the river with burning torches, plunged them into the water, and drew them out again. The flames were undiminished because they were made of sulfur mixed with lime. Men were fastened to a machine and hurried off to hidden caves. It was believed that they were taken away by the gods. These were the men who refused to join the witches’ conspiracy or take part in their crimes or submit to their pollution.”
In our times, witchcraft had receded to a few dozen adamants. Under the leadership of the Witch of Brassac, they still met in secrecy.”
“Why in hell, did I ever decide to return to this blasted land? All you can find are rocks and roots.” Albert, Maurice’s father, was cursing at the large tree root that had resisted his efforts for hours. The middle age carpenter by trade had been convinced by his dear wife to leave his trade and return to the ancestral land. For nearly twenty years, he had labored with Germaine at growing everything needed to feed the five kids. The sale of vegetables and fruits at the local Paussac market every Friday provided enough to buy the pig to slaughter at Christmas to supplement their needs. The three older children had left the household. This reduced the strain on the meager family revenue. He could support the last boy Maurice’s interest to pursue higher education in architecture.
The Labyrinth of Passion (romantic experiences) Page 14