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From: elf@halcyon.com (Elf Sternberg)
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Keywords: elf egypt incest
Subject: {ASSM} Akhenaten and Aye
Date: Tue, 22 Feb 2000 05:10:01 -0500
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Every week someone asks me, "When are you gonna write again?  When are
you gonna update your website?  When are you gonna fix that damned Y2K
bug on the Journal Entries homepage?"  (Actually, nobody asks me the
last one because the bug has disabled the cookies on that page.)

The facts are simple: I haven't been writing as much because I
graduated, now have two kids and a full-time job.  It's hard to write
under those conditions.  As for the website, I've got a revision about
half-done, but writing the code for new browsers, like palm-pilots, is
too much like my job to make me want to work on it often.  I'll get to
that... someday.  

In the meantime, I realized that I hadn't posted a thing since
Repentence back in August of 1998 and figured you had all forgotten
about me.  Well, just to show that I'm still writing, I have the
following.  It's just a short story, part of my "Other Works"
collection.  History buffs might recognize the characters.  Enjoy.



Akhnaten & Aye

The tall bronze door closed with a resounding gong, reverberating in the
otherwise still air of the early evening. Amenhotep's eyes sought out
the window, looked to the fading rays of the beloved sun, Aten Amon Ra,
the daily bringer of life and light to the lush and fertile lands of
Egypt. He watched as the sky darkened, the yellow of Aten darkening and
fading into nothingness. The stars slowly emerged into the night sky,
each one a greeting and a reassurance that Aten would return tomorrow to
bring his light once more.

He examined the rest of the room. The bed resting on the floor was lush
and thick as was to be expected from the love bed of a pharaoh. A bottle
of wine and a loaf of bread rested on a small tray of bronze next to the
bed. Even a burner of incense waited nearby for him to put to light. An
oil lamp occupied the center of each of the four walls.  The ceiling
ascended out of the reach of any man, four man-lengths in height, and
flowing curtains of red linen shot through with gold thread decorated
the corners. A single bronze pot with a cover occupied one corner. No
chairs or tables awaited him, nothing to read or upon which to write. No
games for him to play. Nothing for him to do but wait. Wait for Aye.

Wait for his sister.
_________________________________________________________________

"But why must it be thus?" he had asked the priest, Heran, that morning.

"It is the way of all Gods, young Amenhotep," the priest said
delicately. "Although you will be expected to take a foreign woman as
your first wife and thus make stone our friendship with a neighboring
kingdom, you and your sister must first introduce one another to the
ways of love. Many pharaohs have come to understand that they are indeed
Gods fit to fly on the wings of Ra only after they first know their
sister in this fashion. It is this mingling of the blood of two Gods
that arouses a power like no other, a power immeasurably greater than
any other. You wife shall not know of its power, nor shall any other man
know of it. It is for you and your family alone. You and the blood of
Amon."

"But should I not somehow be... skilled? Taught? How can I do this with
only the book knowledge given to me by my teacher, Namse?"

"You will have what you need to do your duty as befits a king, young
Amen."
_________________________________________________________________

He had not argued as hard as he should have, he thought now. His father,
Amenhotep III, had solidified a great nation and strengthened an even
greater empire. But now his father was approaching the end of his years
and needed a son who would lead the nation on in its prosperity. But
Amen had never wanted the task. If he admitted it to himself, he hated
the priests and the rituals and all that went with the task of being
pharaoh. He would give much, if he had anything at all to give, to
escape the burden that seemed sure to fall upon him in the next few
years. His father would live to see his son's twentieth birthday but
perhaps no later than that.

He fervently missed his uncle, Amenkut, who knew more about the world as
a scholar than did his brother. Amen's father was a man who reveled
mostly in the ways of the warrior. His mother, Tye, was of no advantage
in this either. As the first of Amenhotep's wives to bear a child, her
fertility had made Amen the royal heir. But she had little practical
knowledge of the world outside the walls of her home in Syria. Amen
sometimes suspected that she had lived her entire life behind royal
doors. He truly loved his mother but he also pitied her.

A loud clang on the bronze doors made him look up from his musings as he
saw Aye being shoved rather abruptly into the room. She turned to glare
at the door, a look that could have felled birds from the sky, as it
closed again with that final sound. Then she turned that baleful look to
him. "Brother," she snarled.

"It is not what I want either, Aye. I begged them not to demand this of
me. It is not fitting and I am not ready."

Her look softened somewhat. She no longer directed it at him but
continued to show her upset at the prospect of being forced into this
awkward arrangement. "We must make the best of it."

Amen nodded slowly. "They are probably watching. It is not as if we can
just sleep the night away and say in the morning that we fulfilled our
duties. They will examine the bed for signs of blood and seed."

"Priests," she snarled. "I hate them."

"As much as do I," he acknowledged with admiration. "I am not happy with
priests. I am not happy with the way they convinced my father to
enshrine Amon Ra at Kharnak, as if somehow that made all the difference
in the world. 'The Hidden Sun,' indeed," he said sarcastically. "The
light of the Sun is there for anyone who wishes to see it. And I am not
happy with this." With a wave of his arm he gestured to encircle the
room.

She walked down the three steps into the room itself and joined her
brother. "Your feelings on the Gods and their places in our lives are
well-known, brother."

He gave her his best smile, the one he reserved for few. "I hope I am
not making such a noise as to give rise to questions about my fitness
for the throne."

"The priests would not dare."

"No, perhaps not. But they could make life difficult for me." He stared
out the window that looked down upon the great garden to the rear of the
palace and wished for a rope. "Are you hungry, my sister?"

"I thought you might have forgotten that we mere mortals sometimes need
to eat," she laughed. "Although they tell me that the blood of Amon runs
in me."

"The blood of Amon, the blood of Amon," he repeated in a jibe. "I shall
never understand this obsession with the blood of the Gods. Why is it
more important than the light of the Gods, the warmth of the Gods, or
the power of the Gods? Of all the things the priests prattle about, the
blood is the least useful." He gestured towards the table. "Eat. Drink."

She smiled into her cup as she drank some of the honeyed wine set on the
table beside them. She also took a flame from one of the oil lamps and
lit the incense in the brazier. Amen noticed the gesture. "You are not
serious about performing this ritual, are you?"

"Do we have a choice?" She rose from the bed and walked to window where
he stood. "Come. Let us do this... willingly."

"Hardly," he growled, giving her a mere glance before looking out the
window again. The sky had darkened and Seb, the moon, had risen, his
reddish face looking down on the people of Egypt.

Her hand touched his shoulder. He did not turn to look at her. "Am I
ugly, Amen?" she asked.

"No, of course not, my sister Aye. I am not unhappy with you. I am
unhappy at priests who have shoved us in here at this time with no
thought given to our wants."

"We are royalty, Amen. Our wants are often secondary to the needs of the
Gods and the Empire."

He turned and regarded her with sadness in his eyes. "To suffer for the
Gods above, who would have none of what they desire without the people
below worshipping them." He took her hand in his. "Come, you are
right. Let us perform this little ritual and be done with it. You were
always wiser than I in these matters."

"Because I give in so easily?" she teased.

Because you know when a battle is hopeless and know how to make even
surrender sweet." He led her to the center of the room to sit on the pad
that would be their first love bed. "Drink," he said, refilling her
cup. He poured some for himself.

She took the cup and took a deep draught from it. He watched her drain
the cup half dry and asked, concerned, "You do not want to be insensate
when I lay hands on you, do you, sister? Are you afraid that my skills
may not be up to tonight's task?"

She took a small napkin and wiped her mouth. "No, brother. I am merely
more thirsty than I thought. I would like to have my senses for every
moment of your touch. It is not you I wish to hurl my reluctant
invective at."

He moved a little closer to her and she started uncomfortably. "You were
the one who lighted the incense," he pointed out.

"I am not... completely ready myself for this."

His eyes roved over her face and shoulders, down over her breasts and
waist. "Last year at the Festival of Amon Ra, you wore the headdress of
a woman of the court for the first time. I remember seeing the Aten
gleaming from it, the sun shining off the gold leaf and your dark hair
and I thought you were the loveliest creature I had ever laid eyes
upon. You stood next to mother and led the procession yourself with such
poise and confidence." He touched her thigh with his open palm.  "And
now you are so... unready."

Embarrassed at his glowing descriptions, Aye looked away. "And you,
brother, at father's side, looking so powerful and strong in the tall
headdress of Horus Ra, looking so much like the god you are destined to
become." She turned her whole body towards him. "And now we are just two
children again, locked in a room and told how to play." She caressed his
cheek with her hand. "And play we must or they will never let us out of
here."

He looked into her eyes and saw that she was right. And again, he saw
that without the makeup, the headdress, the finest uniforms the Kingdom
had to offer, she was still a beautiful creature, someone to be held and
adored. He surprised himself with the sensation of warmth in his sex,
arousal he had not expected so soon or with quite so much intensity. He
wanted to touch her but he was not sure what to do with her after that.

Aye solved his curiosity for him by exploring his waist for the golden
cord that held his tunic closed. She found the frilled end and tugged
until the tunic came loose and hung from his shoulders. He returned the
gesture, finding the cord on hers and untying it as well. She waited
passively as he found the edges where it hung down below her waist and
began pulling upwards. His eyes followed the cloth even as he dropped it
to the floor beside the bed and when he turned back to look at her he
was momentarily stunned by the sight of her naked body.  Aye was trim
and smooth, her body a flawless jewel skillfully created by royal tutors
and athletes who worked her daily to make sure she would present the
perfect wife to whatever minor princeling to which she would be for the
sake of the Kingdom. Her skin was a perfect brown in color, her breasts
the size of pears and the hair between her legs sparse and only softly
curled. "You are... lovely, Aye."

"I am glad you think so, Amen. Come, let us get that off you as well."
He helped her remove his own clothing, dropping it into the pile with
hers. Like hers, his body was the product of years of tutoring and
mentoring. He practiced daily with knife and bow although his guards
assured him that he would never have to use them. Having bathed nude
with the few friends he was allowed, he knew that his sex was neither
too large nor particularly small.

He felt his heart grow stronger of its own desire and his erection grew
under her gaze. Embarrassment and youthful need battled for his
attention and need finally won as he pulled her down on top of him.

He felt a shock as her warmth and weight fell upon him. She giggled as
she recovered, looking down on him. "I thought you were determined to
not go through with this."

"You are right, sister. Let us give them good theater for once." He
lowered his voice to a whisper. "Something they can take home and keep
themselves excited while they try to make love to their hairy, ugly
wives."

He saw her smile as she lowered her head to his, her lips coming
dangerously close to his own. Like a thunderclap her kiss coursed
through his body. He moaned with a need he had tried to suppress but
could not hold back any further. Her nipples brushed against his chest
and the smell of her clean and oiled hair aroused him powerfully. He
felt overwhelmed by her. He tried to give what she gave and found
himself floundering against her own desire. "You want this," he said.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, brother. I have wanted to know love since I began
bleeding. I have watched you and wanted you." She spoke in breathless
gasps, as if their kiss had hit her as hard as he. She kissed him again
as they rolled over onto their sides, legs and arms tangling desperately
as they held one another, discovering each other for the first time.

Amen felt her belly press against his, felt the smoothness of her thighs
against his legs. He felt her hands grasp for his sex, close on it and
rub softly, sending such pleasures through him as he had never
experienced before. "Aye, what is it that you do that I cannot do for
myself?"

"Maybe we are as gods, brother," she sighed as her lips kissed his
chest. She was kissing her way down to his sex, performing the ritual
she might one day partake as the Hand of Amon, the Pleasure of the
Creator. He could hear his breath loud in his ears as he anticipated the
touch of her lips on his hardness. She came to it, licked at the
underside carefully, tickled his furred scrotum with her tongue. He felt
her tongue slide along the left of the shaft and come to the exposed
crown. Her open mouth enveloped the head of his sex. He went rigid as he
felt her warm mouth close along the length of it until she nearly choked
herself.

She crawled back into his arms, gasping as hard as he. "I just wanted to
know what it tasted like."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes," she said with a smile. Her voice lowered to a conspiratorial
whisper. "Certainly you taste better than the statue in Karnak. But I
want to save you for myself."

"What do you taste like?" he asked.

"Why do you not find out for yourself?"

"I can do that?" he asked, surprised. The Dawn Rituals of Amon were
about placing one's hands and lips on the penis of the god, Amon, who
had climaxed into his own mouth and then spat out the universe. Amen
could recall no tale of anyone placing his lips on a woman's sex.

"What stops you?" she said with a smile as she rolled over onto her
back. "Come, brother, find out if you like the way I taste. And see for
yourself what you are getting into."

He laughed. Aye's humor had always appealed to him. He crawled on hands
and knees down to the edge of the bed, looking down between his sisters
thighs. He had seen few women naked in his life and his training had not
prepared him for just how complicated her vulva was.  The smell was
musty but not strong-- she must have bathed recently. It was not
unpleasant but he could not for the Aten figure out why it affected him
the way it did. It made his head light and asked him to crave her in
ways he had never been told about. He kissed her vulva, carefully
parting the sparse hair and tasting her with his tongue. Aye moaned
softly, her own desire as strong as his had been. He could not
understand her desire; he had not yet touched her inside. "Kiss me
again," she gasped.

He complied. Her taste had a strange, almost oily sensation to it,
something he was not accustomed to. But he found himself liking it.

He shook his head. It was time to give the priests, himself, and Aye
what they all wanted. He crawled the length of her body. "Are you ready,
sister?"

"It will hurt," she said.

"I know," he said. "I promise it will stop soon afterwards."

"You cannot promise that."

"I am a god," he said, half-joking. His stiffness probed between her
open thighs, the head finding her sex and resting against the opening.
"Now?" he asked.

She reached up and clasped her hands on his arms. "Now," she breathed.

Amen pushed, hard.

Aye's back arched with the pain, a small whimper the only sound she made
as he entered her. He was so concerned for her he did not even feel the
way her body surrounded his sex. "Aye?"

"It... burns a little, brother."

"Should I stop?"

"I... Yes."

He nodded, withdrawing from inside her. He looked down between them and
saw her blood on the sheet beneath them. Ashamed at having hurt one of
the few people he truly cared for, he gathered her in his arms.
"Shh... " he said softly. "It will pass."

"I know. I just... was not ready for it to hurt so much." She kissed his
cheek. "Thank you for being so kind, Amen. Give me a little time.  We
will try again."

"I know. Maybe tomorrow."

"No!" she said. "No, tonight. I felt it, Amen. I wanted you. I just
could not bear the pain."

"I am sorry, Aye. We will try again tonight."

"Thank you, brother."

He lay there, holding her against himself. He felt chilled and reached
behind himself to pull a blanket over the two of them as they lay there,
together.
_________________________________________________________________

Amen woke with a start. The oil in the lamps had all burned dry and gone
out. Two great patches of pale light filled the wall opposite the window
as the light of the moon shone through them. Aye lay on her side, less
than two hands' distance from him, facing him. Her face looked at
peace. He shook his head. They must have fallen asleep together. From
the position of the moon he realized that dawn would arrive soon.

He rose and made use of the pot, his waking erection drooping in order
for him to do so. He covered the pot again when he was done. The sound
of his feet on the floor must have awakened Aye, for she was propped up
on one elbow, watching him as he returned to bed. "We slept," she said.

"Yes," he said. "It would seem to be too late to complete the task the
priests have set aside for us."

He could see her smiling mouth in the dim light. "It is still this
night, brother, although that could well end soon. Can we not still
complete it?"

He regarded her carefully. "It is possible," he said. He leaned closer
to her. "And by now even the priests have returned to their warm and
comfortable beds."

"Then you do not have to do this," she said.

"I would give you what you want, Aye. You are my beloved sister." He
stroked her chest with his hand, his fingertips brushing delicately over
an exposed nipple. "And a most beautiful woman as well. If you would
accept my gift."

His actions had the desired effect. "I... I do accept," she said,
kissing his cheek softly. "Immediately and definitely!"

He laughed softly and moved to mount her. His own sex was not yet hard
again and her hands were busy between her own legs. "Amen... would you
kiss me there again?"

He nodded. The smell of her again reached his nose and made him feel
dizzy. He kissed her mound again. The taste was different now, mustier
and less sweet but somehow still compelling. She spread her legs wider
and he found in the darkness all the complicated little shapes of her
sex. He allowed his tongue to explore them all, caressing and touching,
before he crawled back up the length of her body. "I am ready, Aye."

"I am too, Amen."

He did not ask permission this time. He lowered his weight to her body
and felt his sex slide inside her. This time, she closed her eyes and
sighed deeply as he entered her and, this time, he felt the moist warmth
of her sex grip him tightly. "It does not hurt," she whispered, almost
sounding surprised.

His own needs took over then and he began to stroke her slowly with his
sex. "Does this?" he asked.

"No," she said. "It feels good, Amen. Do more."

He nodded, loving her as his body wanted. She was smiling and that made
this moment between them more perfect than any he could remember in his
young life. They held one another, belly to belly, the breath of her
mouth caressing his face as they loved one another. His hips knew what
they were doing as they loved and he felt her press her own body back
against his with each stroke. Sometimes one wanted more than the other
and they would smile as their thrusts drew out of time, then back
again. He felt his pleasure rising uncontrollably, quickly. She moaned
softly as he thrust just a little harder.

The sun rose and its light poured into their room as his pleasure
overtook him and he climaxed, the bright sun exploding inside his head
as much as in his eyes. A loud moan passed his lips and warmth radiated
from his sex. "Aye... Aye..."

"I know, brother."

"Akhenaten," he sighed, smiling, as he rolled off her.

"Brother?"

He shook his head. "It just seemed so beautiful how the Aten rose and
greeted us as my pleasure reached its height. It made you even more
lovely." He looked at her and she seemed to glow. "Tell me, sister, what
did you see?"

"I saw... I saw a god reach his pleasure. I felt a thrill I cannot put
into words. The sun rose and touched your hair and your face and you
closed your eyes and whispered my name. I know there is more for both of
us in that and I want more of it."

"Now?" he asked.

"No," she laughed. "It will wait. But I do understand why they put us
together first. I do not know if it is the blood of Amon or merely the
teaching of our mentors, but the care and skill you gave me is unlike
the terrifying experiences some of the serving girls Mother has in the
palace have described to me about their husbands."

"Care is a luxury we can afford," he said, cuddling up close to his
sister. "Next time, sister, we will find a quiet room where the priests
cannot watch."

She sighed softly and held him. They waited for the priests to fetch
them to morning duties.
_________________________________________________________________

Akhenaten & Aye
is copyright 2000 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. May be distributed freely by
electronic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings for
personal use.

--
Elf M. Sternberg, rational romantic mystical cynical idealist
elf@halcyon.com: A Decade of Usenet: On-line since August 18, 1988
http://www.halcyon.com/elf/

   I have looked into the abyss, and the abyss has looked into me.
   Neither liked what we saw.
                  --- Brother Theodore

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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