Khalid sneered. He saw his lieutenant Mustafa inserting his cock into the folds of the red skinned beauty with perfectly formed breasts and thick, curly black hair that fell to her shoulders. She nodded, feigning pleasure on her face, and oohed and aahed more than Mustafa’s wife must have in bed.
Khalid felt he had gotten the best of the lot. She was light skinned, and appeared to be of Teutonic stock. He wondered where their procurer obtained such stock. She had flame red hair, enormous and magnificent breasts with nipples that reminded him of daggers. Her hips were broad and fecundity was her middle name. He ordered her to take his cock in her mouth. She obeyed.
She was straining to fit all of it in there, and he saw tears appear in the corner of her pretty blue eyes, threatening to mess up her mascara. That was none of his concern. Women are too soft, he thought to himself, ramming his cock down her throat further, while she strained and pleaded for mercy through her actions.
After she had made several choking noises, he pulled himself out, and asked her to part her legs. She nodded, looking down, pretending she wasn’t crying. He hated whores who cried. These bitches existed to serve him. If they couldn’t swallow his cock properly, why should he allow them any mercy.
She winced as he invaded her, and he caught a flash of fear on her face. He slapped her. He decided that he would pay her half the market rate. She wasn’t doing her job.
They heard a commotion outside. Soldiers were screaming something about a python. There was a series of crashes and yells, and the sounds of bodies being mangled.
Khalid wanted to finish up with the whore before he got to the action, but things seemed to be escalating too soon. He pulled out and shoved her to the floor and spat on her. He told her to stay there until he returned.
His lieutenant was already dressed, and his woman was shivering in a corner. Mustafa must have tried out his usual brutality. Khalid grinned. A man after his own heart.
They nodded to one another, and stepped out with their swords drawn. They used straight swords, unlike the scimitars that the Sultana had popularized throughout the kingdom. Straight, bronze, and very easy to handle.
Khalid was in front, while Mustafa was right behind him. They saw two soldiers run past them. Khalid yelled to them that he would have them quartered for being cowards and deserting their posts, but they paid no heed and vanished.
Then they knew why the soldiers were running. They had no time to run, and wished they had. She struck Khalid across the face. It was a gentle slap with her right arm, and his head flew off his shoulders and landed on the roof of the very structure they had been fucking the prostitutes in. Khalid’s body slumped down, his sword hand still curled around the hilt.
Mustafa turned ashen white, simply looking at her. She towered several meters in the air, the height of at least one palm tree. Her body was that of a python, but she had the breasts, shoulders and upper body of a woman. An astonishingly beautiful woman, if she were not so terrifying. Her hair was wriggling, as though it were thousands of tiny black snakes. Her eyes were blue sometimes, green at other times, and red at others. The ‘whites’ of her eyes were black as coals. Her skin was porcelain, and seemed to shine like a mirror that was reflecting a burning torch.
Her female attributes were wonders to behold. Her breasts were humongous and had large nipples with sword like extensions leaking a crimson slime from them. She had powerful shoulders for a woman, yet it did not detract one iota from her feminine voluptuousness. Her torso ended in the body of a python that was the same porcelain white as her upper body. The reptilian lower portion of her was constantly wriggling, and danced as though she were responding to some invisible snake charmer. She fixed Mustafa with one final death stare, and when her dance slowed, he knew his time was up. His last thought was of his lovely wife, and how he should have treated her better.
Younos sat back. He could hear sister fucking her two customers as though screaming out every dirty thought that came to her mind, and amplifying every moan so that it could be heard all over Arabia was her only goal. He grimaced. He wanted it to end, so that he could share his news with her.
He was sure that she would be happy hearing the tidings he bore, and that she would play his game so that he could collect more information. He still needed more information on the Nubian, and he knew that she could collect it for him.
He heard their groans presently, and knew that the customers were nearing their climaxes simultaneously, while his sister expertly pretended to near hers. He could almost believe that she was having an orgasm as well, hearing her yell as though a volcano was exploding between her thighs. He knew her too well though. This was what the customers paid her good dinars for. Her specialty was the sound, and nasty talk.
A whole orchestra of orgasmic groans later, after a good ten minutes of silence, two rotund Arab men came out holding hands, dressed like merchants. Younos didn’t understand how men casually held hands in this part of the world, but he was clever enough to keep his mouth shut about it. Now he awaited the emergence of his sister. She took her time readying herself. She looked as though she had just bathed, although that was impossible, given the time it took for her to emerge. There were no traces of the strenuous intercourse that she had just been through, and her brown hair looked freshly washed. There was no male fluid anywhere on her either. Younos wondered how she did this. She must have some private washroom in there - that had to be the only explanation.
She greeted him the usual way, and he was prepared for it. She found the nearest pottery and hurled it in his direction, hoping to crack his skull. He ducked, and ran a few steps away, and called out to her from the distance, as the pot she hurled shattered a few feet to his left.
“I love you too, sister dear,” he said, grinning at her.
“What do you want now, Younos?” she said in her testiest voice. “You never returned the money you ‘borrowed’ last time.”
“I don’t want money, Hypatia,” he yelled. “Peace, peace.”
“Fuck you Younos,” she said. “You always want money, or you want sex. Thankfully you’ve never asked your sister for it, but I know some day you’ll come right up and do just that.”
She retrieved a tiny flower pot while she kept talking as though she had simmered down, and then suddenly hurled it at his forehead. He was very alert today, and he dodged it yet again. He heard it smash against a stone wall directly behind him.
“Calm down, Adelphe,” he said, using the Greek term for ‘dear sister’. “I bring great news.”
“Fuck you, Younos,” she said. “Lies come easily to you. Say what you will and get out of here.”
He grinned at her from a distance.
“Agathon,” he said, deciding to dole out the news so that she had to put up with him for the longest possible time. It was a special treat annoying his older sister.
Her face showed surprise, and expectancy. He knew he had her attention, mentioning the name of her vile husband.
“What about Agathon?” she said.
He knew what she was thinking. She hated her husband as much as Younos hated her husband. The guy was a drunkard, and abused her, and took all her money. She would do anything to get rid of him.
“Agathon has had a small accident,” he said.
Her face showed some serious promise. She gave him a dangerous look.
“If you’re lying, Younos, I swear your body will disappear into a Wadi somewhere!”
“Adelphe,” Younos said, speaking in a serious tone with lots of gravitas suddenly, “there are far more important matters than your silly fears of your brother.”
She looked confused, but continued listening.
“Agathon is dead,” he said, noting a smile break out on her face as he said so. “That is why I am here. I need your help in gathering information.”
She smiled at him the way she used to when they were back in the Greek isles, sitting next to each other and looking at the night sky and dreaming big dreams of being princes and princesses and living in palaces.
“What sort of accident?” she said, looking around, caution replacing the smile on her face.
Perhaps she was nervous that women of her trade should not involve themselves in idle gossip, especially since customers came here with sensitive information, and often shared it in the throes of passion, and expected their coital confidences to never be discussed again.
“I am not sure,” Younos said, “but I think he was murdered by a Nubian.”
He grinned again. He actually knew that Agathon had been murdered by the same Nubian who was fucking princess Mediha, but he wasn’t going to tell his sister that. He wasn’t going to tell her either that he had convinced his vile but stupid brother in law to confront the Nubian, telling him that he would pay any amount of money if confronted with blackmail over his clandestine affair.
This was what he called two birds with one stone. Agathon would finally leave his sister alone, and the Nubian would be on his guard, and would make some mistake in being too watchful.
Hypatia nodded slowly, and pondered her new status as a free woman. She enjoyed her profession, so she would continue that, but now she could keep all her money. She may even have enough to give Younos some for occasional requests, within reason, after he paid back his debt to her.
“What do you want from me?” she said.
Younos gave her a conspiratorial wink, the very kind that had changed her life many years ago. The last time he had winked like that, her life had changed from being a housewife and woman of the arts, to someone who whored for a profession. Now he had another crazy idea again, and she wondered why she was paying attention to him.
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