Saturday, February 20, 2016

Lady Jane Stalwart and the Cock of Osiris Ch5

Chapter Five:  Aket Makes Himself Known

Jane sat back on the bench, her hand gliding over the paper. She brought the charcoal over to the right of the paper, pressing hard on the page as she colored in the swastika. She glanced up at the German zeppelin and down at her page. Satisfied, she finished coloring in the swastika on the tail fin and wrote in the zeppelin's name on the front of the dirigible.

Jane took her attention off the Germans and flipped her sketchbook back one page. Patty's nude body stretched out on the bed of the cabin. She was sleeping peacefully, one knee slightly cocked. A sheet covered her crotch, but her breasts were exposed. Jane had spread the sleeping woman's luxurious red hair out on the pillow, fanning it out around her head. She quickly sketched her friend and now lover, wishing she had a set of colored pencils with her to capture the red of Patricia's hair and the pink of her nipples.

Jane was putting the sketchbook away when Patty woke. The Irish Catholic would have been scandalized by the nude sketch of her, but as it turned out, the young woman was even more horrified by the events of the previous night. They had committed a mortal sin together. “Many cultures throughout history have allowed and even promoted homosexual behavior,” she told Patty. “Not my culture and not my god,” said Patty, her fingers fumbling with the rosary around her neck. Jane told her friend to lock the door behind her and left the cabin to allow Patty the time to pray for guidance. She took her sketchbook and decided to stroll around Budapest for awhile.

The Graf Siegfried had arrived an hour earlier, descending and mooring beside the Orient Express. The train crew moved and attached a luxury car with Nazi swastika flags hanging under each of the windows. Two men left the airship and headed toward the luxury car once it had been attached. The distance was too far for details, but there was something familiar about the baring of the taller man. The second man wore a black uniform with a Nazi flag armband. He was shorter and more portly then the bigger man.

The two entered the train car followed by several uniformed crew members of the zeppelin carrying their luggage. The crew members quickly returned to the Graf Siegfried whose engines roared to life even as the train whistled that the Orient Express was preparing to leave for Vienna. Jane gathered her things and walked to the train as the giant airship once again took to the sky.

The room had been turned down for the day, the beds pushed back and the room converted into a sitting room with a couch and table. Patty was kneeling on the floor, leaning over the table still praying when Jane returned to the room. She looked up when she heard the door slam. “Did god answer you?” asked Jane.

“Yes, I've come to accept that I was under the control of some heathen artifact and my actions weren't my own. God will forgive, but I must confess as soon as possible.” Patty stood. “How are you handling it?”

Jane shrugged. “I found the whole experience quite enjoyable. I've always felt close to you, but now I feel even closer.”

Patty gasped, “But it's a sin!”

Jane shrugged again. “I don't see how anything so pleasurable and mutually consensual could be wrong. I was hoping you'd share my bed again, even move into my room when we reach London.”

Patty's face grew flushed even as her nipples visibly turned hard underneath her dress. “I'm not some saphist poofter, Lady Stalwart.”

Jane looked sad as she gazed at her friend. “I'm afraid you might be just that Miss O'Toole. I fear the COCK's effects may be permanent. I still like men, but at the same time I want to take you in my arms and kiss you again. Judging by your body's reactions, you feel it also.”

“I do, but I will pray for the strength to fight this desire.”

“Very well,” said Jane. “Perhaps I'm wrong and the effects will diminish over time. The legend did say it took three baptisms to turn Isis into a wanton whore.” Patty's belly growled loudly. “Hungry? The dining car should be serving supper.” Patty nodded and the two women walked down to the dining car. Jane took a seat with her back to a window while Patty sat across from her. Patty ordered the grilled turbot with white wine and butter sauce. Lady Jane had ordered a pogacsa from a street vendor in Budapest and wasn't quite hungry yet. She requested that the waiter bring her a couple slices of bread and a whole cucumber so that she could make cucumber sandwiches later in their room. She ordered a glass of Merlot and casually sipped it. Patty always deferred to her taste in wine and she seemed to relish her drink.

Jane wanted to stare into Patty's green eyes, but someone had attempted to kill them last night and she needed to be alert. Her eyes scanned the diners finding nothing out of the ordinary. That is until the black man arrived while she was sipping her wine. He attracted the attention of all the other diners, most openly gawking at him. He was dressed in a white robe with gold trim that formed a V down his bare chest displaying his musculature. He was big, hulking was a better word. He had a long pointy ancient Egyptian style beard and wore dark eyeliner. The man was also shaved bald including his eyebrows. Most of the crowd had never seen anyone so exotic and continued to rudely stare at the black giant. Most of the crowd had never dined with a negro before either. He took a seat alone, ordered something from the waiter, and turned his head to stare directly at Jane. His lips curled up, exposing white teeth as he smiled at her.

“O, villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!” she muttered.

“What?” asked Patty.

“Hamlet,” said Jane. “I believe our foe has arrived Patricia.”

“Can I look?”

“Be my guest, he's making his presence known.”

Patty glanced over her shoulder and gasped at the sight of the strange black man. He nodded at her and continued to smile. “Jesus wept,” muttered the red head.

“I think it's time I met our foe,” said Jane. Jane stood, grabbed the bag and left. Patty watched Jane
leave the dining car. The black man's gaze followed Jane's. Patty didn't like being left alone and prayed the black man wouldn't come over to her. She was distracted by the arrival of their food.

Jane raced through several sleeper cars until she arrived at her cabin. The cabin had been reconverted for sleeping. She quickly pulled the hieroglyphic box out and opened it. The scorpion snapped up at her. She'd put the surviving deathstalker in the box as a trap for anyone trying to steal it. Jane snapped her fingers to distract it and easily lifted it by the tail with her other hand. She placed the scorpion in a drinking glass and closed the box back up. She retrieved her Enfield revolver and opened the cylinder, checking on the bullets. She set the revolver by the box, ready in case she needed it and then she left to meet her foe after securing the cabin door.

The first thing she noticed when she returned to the dining car was that Patty was gone. She'd cleaned her plate. Jane's food was sitting in her spot, untouched. A man in a dark black uniform was seated at the table beside hers. A Nazi armband around his bicep. One of the Germans she'd seen arrive earlier that day. “Fraulein,” he said, nodding at her, noticing her attention.

“Sturmbannfuhrer,” she replied, reading his rank insignia. He was an ugly man, pale and bloated. His eyes were deep set and beady, peering at her from behind rounded gold wire glasses. He was heavy set with a large jowl and mostly bald with a few clumps of hair clinging in patches on his head. An out of shape political officer and not a military man.

“Perhaps you'd like to join me,” he said, his voice heavily accented. “One can always enjoy the company of a beautiful woman.”

“Perhaps some other time,” she replied. “I was seated here. Did you happen to see where my companion went?”

“Yes, the Rotkopf! She left just before you arrived, Fraulein.”

“Danke,” replied Jane. Perhaps Patty had just left to use the toilet and Jane had passed her in the hall.

“May I at least refresh your drink, Fraulein?”

Jane looked down at the glass in her hand and it's contents. “No thank you, Major.” She smiled and nodded before turning around.

“I am Odilo Blobel,” he said, persistently. If you change your mind about dinner or that drink. I am in the luxury coach at the end of the line.”

“Jane Stalwart,” she told him. She wondered about the odd placing of the Nazi car. Typically, the last car was a baggage car. But that didn't matter now, the black priest was still waiting for her.

Jane walked over to the hulking black man and he watched her approach. He continued smiling at her.
“Aket, I presume,” she said, pulling a chair out and joining him. There was some muttering from the crowd at seeing a young white woman joining a black man at his table.

“I am Aket, High Priest and humble servant of Set.” He raised his hand to stop her from introducing herself. “You are Jane Stalwart, explorer, archaeologist, and adventurer, daughter of Sir John Stalwart, a British rapist of my county's antiquities.”

Jane reached out and turned over the contents of the glass into Aket's drink. “I believe this is yours.” His eyes gazed down at the scorpion thrashing as it drowned in his drink. “O most pernicious woman! That's a thirty year scotch.”

Hamlet! Jane stared back at the man in surprise and noticed his eyes. They weren't quite right. The pupils weren't rounded, but were narrower like a vipers. They narrowed even more as she stared into them. “You read lips?” she asked.

Aket just smiled and reached into the drink for the dead scorpion. He lifted it out and dropped it into his mouth. It's carapace crunched as he chewed, before swallowing and licking his lips. “Delicious,” he stated, draining the rest of his scotch as a chaser. He put the drink down and stared at her, surprised by her lack of a reaction.
“I've eaten a few bugs in my day,” she calmly replied, shrugging. “Now lets get down to business, Aket. You want the COCK and you can't have it.”

“That is where you are wrong, Miss Stalwart. I will have the COCK OF OSIRIS, it is the will of his brother SET that I shall possess it. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, crushing it in his tight grasp.
“I shall take the COCK and the world will be plunged into chaos!

Jane jerked under his grasp as the insight came to her. Jane sat on her throne beside her husband's. She wore a white Egyptian robe with gold trim that circled under her breasts leaving them exposed. A pharaoh's headdress adorned her head and her eyes were highlighted with kohl. Aket's hand clutched hers and tightened affectionately as they surveyed the intertwined naked bodies writhing in ecstasy on the floor before their thrones. Aket glanced to his right and an Egyptian with a folding camera around his neck ran out from behind a curtain. He aimed the camera at the British Consul General's wife. Her fat body rippled as she was plowed from behind by the black skinned Masai warrior recruited by Aket for his immense cock size. Each thrust of the Masai's cock into the fat white woman shoved the equally large cock of the Hutu warrior she was sucking down her throat. The consul general watched his wife, both in horror and lust, his pants around his ankles and his small spent penis in his hand. The flash of the camera caught the scene on film. Aket raised the COCK in his hand and pointed it at a woman entwined in the orgy of flesh. He then pointed the cock at another man in a British Admiral's uniform. The nude woman stood and Jane saw that it was Patty. Gone was her beautiful red hair, now dyed black and cut shoulder length like Cleopatra's. Gone was the rosary around her neck, replaced by an ankh. Another ankh dangled from a piercing through her navel. Her left areola was darkened with kohl, the areola forming the eye of a tattooed wedjet or Eye of Horus around her nipple symbolizing the moon while her right breast was similarly tattooed with an Eye of Ra symbolizing the sun. When Patty stood, it looked like her torso was staring at the Pharaoh Aket and his wife, Jane. Patty turned and Jane's eyes scanned the hieroglyphic tattoos that ran down Patty's spine as she sauntered over towards the admiral. He stared at her with lust even as Patty knelt down before him, her hand fishing out his prick. Aket pointed the COCK at his photographer, then at the admiral and the Egyptian turned his camera on the admiral moaning as his dick was sucked by a true professional. The admiral was a British lord and married to the second cousin of the first lord of the admiralty, Winston Churchill. Through the power of the COCK and blackmail, Pharaoh Aket, high priest of Set, would come to rule Egypt and destroy the British Empire, spreading chaos throughout the world.

Jane yanked her wrist from Aket's grasp. Her insights came to her infrequently and this one had been stronger then most. An old Romany woman had once told Jane, that she possessed the gift, but Jane refused to call them visions, preferring insights. Jane had seen enough to know that she'd just glimpsed one possible future. “Over my dead body,” she told Aket, standing up.

He stroked his beard. “To be, or not to be, that is the question.” he answered.

Jane turned and hurried from the dining car. Blobel stood as if to speak, but she ignored him, scooping up the bread and cucumber from her table as she passed. She hoped Patty was in her room. They'd need to hunker down, defend the COCK. Maybe even get off the train in the next stop. Aket was more dangerous then she'd thought. Jane resolved to keep her Enfield close at hand from this point on.

She entered the first baggage car, turning sideways to let an elderly couple pass. She heard the old lady gasp and glanced over her shoulder. Aket had appeared in the doorway. His hulking form took up most of the corridor and the old couple had to squeeze tightly against a cabin's door for him to squeeze past. Jane left the coach, the Austrian countryside sped past the fast moving train as she entered the next sleeping car. Aket close behind.

The next corridor was empty and Jane raced to her cabin. She reached her door and turned to look at Aket as he came in from outside the train. “I have a gun inside,” she yelled, resting her hand on the door. It pushed right open. Someone had forced her door!

Jane fell into her cabin, dropping her dinner, and found herself looking at dirty sandal clad feet. She looked up the khaki pants, loose white shirt, and at the man's ugly face underneath a red fez.

“This gun,” hissed Hassan, through his rotted teeth as he pointed it at her head.



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