
EXTREME WARNING. This is intended for persons of 18 years of age or 
above. If you are not 18 then go away.

EXTREME WARNING. This story contains descriptions of violence, snuff, 
eroto-cannibalism and sexual acts. Do not read if these subjects are 
likely to offend.

EXTREME WARNING. In no way do I condone any of the anti-social behavior 
described in the story. This is an erotic fantasy, not to be confused 
with reality.



Please reply by preference to the newsgroup, or failing that to 
grim_williams@my-deja.com




The Feast of Purim
By Grim Williams


Series One, Part Six



Guy herded Esther and his dams forward. They had left the motor behind 
outside the city and were traveling on foot. The streets of the Casbah 
were narrow and crowded, its steep hills covered with uneven stone 
steps.

They moved sluggishly, although steadily. Ruth led this shackle of 
disgraced Aquarian women, their heads bowed to the earth, their hands 
clasped behind their heads. Guy followed the slow moving train, 
watching closely, his hand poised in his pocket, ready in case one of 
them broke from the line.

Each dam knew her fate, that this was it, a march to her execution and 
death. They were going to be killed and then eaten. This was the end.

One of the brunettes was crying, unable to deal with the idea that 
tomorrow she might be no more, that she might already have been 
consumed by some ugly, perspiring man. She sobbed quietly, her nude 
young body racked by her tears.

"Come on," Guy called icily, pressing them forward. "Stop dawdling. We 
haven't all day."

He reached into his pocket and marginally increased the juice on their 
tags. It caught the redhead by surprise, and also the smallest of the 
brunettes. Both pelvises jerked forward, and the redhead cried out, her 
hands dropping immediately from her head to her belly.

Guy stepped in at once. "On your head," he growled, zapping her a 
little harder. "Clasp your hands to your head."

The girl winced with the renewed pain emanating from high up in her 
cunt. She was caught in indecision. She knew what she must do, that she 
must resume the correct posture, but her hands wouldn't obey. They were 
locked in mid air, fighting to hold and protect her suffering belly.

"Do it," Guy screamed at her, stepping ever closer. "Or shall I do it 
again? Is that what you're after? That dose was nothing. Do you want 
more? Shall I show you what a tag really feels like?"

"No," the woman howled pitiably, falling to her knees in misery, 
finally managing to get her hands to her head. She kept her head bowed, 
hiding her suffering and her heartache. Her long brown hair cascaded 
from her shoulders onto the rise of her shivering pale breasts.

She groveled in despair. "Please. Please. No. I beg you. You'll kill me 
with that thing!"

"You worthless cunt!" Guy retaliated. "I know what you're doing. You 
think you can fuck with me, that you can make me pity you and be soft 
on you. But you're mistaken. I'm not standing for it. Now get back on 
your feet and into line!"

"Yes, sir," the young brunette cowered. "I'm sorry, sir."

Still fighting her emotions and the pain filling her belly, she 
hastily, she got back to her feet and assumed her place in the line. 
However frightened she might be of the Butchery, it was nothing 
compared to her fear of the tag and how Guy might use it.

But even as he got them on the move again, heading towards the approach 
to the Gate of the old city, Guy's bluster hid his own anxiety. He was 
still in two minds about what he was doing. There was a job to be done 
and while he wanted it done and complete, his heart was elsewhere. His 
heart urged him to find another way. There had to be an alternative.

He'd ordered Esther into the middle of the line, two dams in front of 
her, two behind. He checked quickly on how she was coping. Her head was 
bowed. She was still shuddering with emotion, embarrassed and 
humiliated at being publicly naked but very careful to keep her hands 
and arms behind her head, well away from her pussy and breasts. She was 
determined not to be zapped again on that count.

She stood out from the rest in one important respect, making everyone 
passing look twice. She was a dam with cunt hair. It caught the 
attention of every passerby. Her little triangle, openly displayed, was 
so familiar to Guy. It's silly little tufts that stuck out like spines 
along the line of her slit was part of her character now, just as much 
as the untidy spikes adorning her head.

God. This aching. His groin! What was he going to do?

The idea of eating his sister, of having her on his plate, cutting into 
her tiny boobs, and chewing her pussy, had always been a secret fantasy 
ever since he was small. He'd eaten a number of women in his life, but 
had always dreamt that someday it would be Esther. But was he really 
prepared to bring this fantasy finally to a reality? Could he actually 
do it?

Guy pushed his way through the bustling market streets of the old city, 
trailing in the wake of Ruth's long flowing blue gown. He kept the dams 
bunched together and stayed close to them. This wasn't easy because 
naked dams attract plenty of unwanted attention. Men were constantly 
taking liberties, groping their asses and spitting at their breasts. 
For them it was good sport, it was a laugh. But it made Guy anxious. 
The law could be a perverted bitch around here. Ruth had told him 
stories of dams being stolen or confiscated on little or no pretext, 
and never was there any compensation.

They were approaching a white wall now with a narrow iron gate covered 
with a rounded arch. This was the entrance to the Casbah, the inner 
city.

Ruth hurried to one side of the street, pulling her shawl close, 
bidding that the others follow her into the blackness. 

For, neither she, nor the dams could go through that gate as they were. 
According to the unchangeable law of the Persians, any free woman found 
in the Casbah after sundown is to be taken to the public pillory where 
her head is to be sliced from her shoulders.

"You must bind my wrists," Ruth said. "And the others. Esther's too. 
None of us may go through that gate after dark unbound."

That is the law.

It has always been the law, for as long as anyone could remember. A 
cruel law perhaps. But one decreed for good reason. Twenty-five women 
to every man creates an atmosphere of suspicion and distrust within the 
male community. When a girl realizes that she has no realistic prospect 
of ever finding a man for herself, most find themselves a pretty lady 
and make do, getting on with their lives. It may not be perfect, but 
what else can they do? 

But there are a small band of women, mainly Saggitarian, whose powerful 
hormones and greater sexual frustration drives them into a whirlpool of 
brutal jealousies and anger, sometimes taking matters into their own 
hands.

Rumors abound of men who have disappeared, kidnapped by gangs of 
aggressive women determined to milk every last drop of come from their 
cocks. They're held captive in the desert, the stories go, with nothing 
to do all day but pander to the needs of these well built, beefy women.

And so men feel threatened. 

The Casbah is the last sanctuary in all Persia where men know they are 
truly safe and where they sleep soundly in their beds.

Ruth handed Guy several yards of clean white rope. "You must start at 
my wrists," she fussed anxiously, for she had no desire to be beheaded. 
Where is the reward in that? "And then you must bind by arms all the 
way to the top. It is the law."

The blood flooded to Esther's cheeks and her mouth opened wide as she 
saw what Guy was doing to Ruth. Her arms had dropped from her head and 
hung loose by her sides. "Please. I won't do anything silly! You can't 
mean to do that to me!"

Guy grabbed her by the shoulders and swung her around so that her back 
was facing him. "It's not about doing anything silly," he declared 
roughly, pushing her forward and reaching for her hands. "We either 
bind you or we pick your head from a basket. Now which is it to be?"

Reluctantly, Esther placed her wrists in the small at the center of her 
back, one atop the other, so that he could bind her. "You're enjoying 
this," she accused bitterly, with a flutter in her voice. 

Little did she know, he thought. Enjoy it? Maybe later. He hoped so. 
But not now. He had cramps in his stomach, and his conscience wouldn't 
leave him alone. 

"Seeing you bound and naked?" he lied bravely, forcing a smirk. He 
pulled the knots around her wrists and made them as tight as he could. 
"Of course I'm enjoying it. But not as much as seeing you perform for 
me in the Butchery! You know when those girls get inside the oven they 
get so hot that it makes them want to come. I'm aching to see you 
trussed up on a roasting tray, jerking around, trying to give yourself 
a climax. That's what I'll enjoy!"

Esther sank emotionally at this outburst, her shoulders drooping. That 
hurt. It was with great relief to them both that he moved on to bind 
the next of his dams, covering his own sentiment much better than 
Esther had covered hers.

When he had all six girls bound in the manner prescribed, he herded 
them through the Gate into the Casbah. 

"Come on!" he cried for the benefit of the Arian guards standing on 
guard at the gate. "There's a frying pan waiting for each of you. Get 
moving, you stupid mother-fuckers! Get in line!"

He juiced them a little to keep them frightened, while a tall Arian 
wearing a regal sash across his bare hairy chest checked the girls' 
bindings.

He checked them thoroughly, somehow managing a few sly touches in the 
process, but finally he was happy that all was well.

"This way," Ruth urged, once they were through the border control, 
leading the way up the steep hill towards both the Castle and Hegai's 
Butchery. "Keep moving. For heaven's sake don't stop. Someone is bound 
to think we're street girls and for sale."

Guy followed with Esther and the other dams, prodding them forward, 
keeping them together.

All around the aroma of sweet oriental spices filled the night air, 
burning in flickering oil lamps. They could also hear, from behind 
tightly drawn curtains, the strains of strident, raucous music and the 
noise of men having a good time.

This was the rich part of town; this was where the affluent lived. In 
these noisy streets, eating and drinking was more than a human 
necessity; it had become a science of entertainment. This was where you 
could find people rich enough to pay top dollar for the odd wild dam.
Here, men paid fantastic prices not to be able to remember tomorrow 
what they had done tonight. 

Here was where...

Guy saw a nobleman approaching. There was a large group of people 
bobbling steadily towards them. A slave was at the front of the group, 
bearing the standard of his Master, and thrusting people out of the way 
with a sharp pole, striking first to the left and then to the right. 
Guy moved immediately to one side, helping his dams to do likewise, 
hurrying them into the dirt of the gutter. As he pushed her, Esther 
stumbled against the wall and grazed her thigh. With her arms bound 
behind her back, she was unable to save herself and she then fell 
sprawling, legs akimbo and her bare boobs bobbing, to the ground in an 
undignified heap.

As Guy lifted her to her feet, she started on him, angry, her black 
eyes blazing with suppressed fury. The fire had returned. She swore and 
cursed, half sobbing, half ranting; Feelings of betrayal and 
humiliation, of being unable even to rub her side, where her bare skin 
had been grazed, of fear and despair, desire and frustration, it all 
exploded from her lips in a jumble of tangled spleen.

Instantly, Guy reacted. He had to. He reached into his pocket and 
turned up the juice on her tag, correcting her. He couldn't afford any 
trouble. He couldn't afford this. These people would confiscate his 
dams as soon as look at them. He couldn't afford to draw the wrong kind 
of attention to himself, or to Esther.

At once, she creased over in pain, her lower belly rippling with 
unbelievable agony. She bellowed at once in anguish, her howls 
billowing along narrow street and causing every eye to turn.

The passing nobleman, surrounded by a small army of armed bodyguards 
and slaves, nodded imperceptibly in Guy's direction, acknowledging the 
small courtesy that Guy had paid him in controlling his troublesome 
dam. He frowned at Esther, noticing the unshaved triangle of her 
crotch. He had seen the incident in its entirety. Such fire!

And then he had passed them, sauntering down the cobbled street, his 
head held high and aloof, showing off his jewels and his wealth, his 
vividly embroidered gowns and brightly colored shawl.

Esther continued to sob and to weep well after the entourage had 
passed. The pain coming from deep within her cunt was unbearable. She 
wanted to touch herself, to comfort her poor aching belly, to soothe 
the anguish that extended down towards the entrance of her cunt. But 
she couldn't. She had no use of her hands.

"Hurry up!" Guy hissed to Ruth, searching along the row of gaudy shop 
signs. It was difficult to see where they were in the poor light of the 
oil lamps. They needed to get moving. A large assembly was gathering 
just ahead of them. Some were running up the hill to join it, bringing 
with them lamps so that they might see. There was much excitement and 
joviality. What now? He needed to get them all away from such danger. 

Where was the Butchery, Guy thought. Hegai's Butchery. God. Where? And 
then he saw it. "I thought it was supposed to be safe in the Casbah!" 
he whispered to Ruth with one watchful eye on the mob, pushing the 
girls forward. "No women and all that. It's a farce. It's worse here 
than in the desert! Let's get away from here. Let's get them inside."

The crowds were massing around a shop window to a great deal of noise 
and agitation. There was much pushing and shoving by those on the 
outside as everyone tried to get closer to whatever was happening at 
the center. There was a sudden brilliant flash of a yellow light, and 
then it was gone.

What was that?

Suddenly, a woman screamed. It was an intense, piercing scream that 
became a gurgle of accusation. There was a huge jeer.

"You cut me!"

The words carried easily on the night breeze. "What?"

"Traitor! Haman! You cut my bonds!" 

Then, suddenly there was mayhem, yelling and chanting and jeering. More 
people were running up the hill, while the throng itself was in chaos.

"She's free! Vashti's free! A free woman inside the Casbah!"

Guy moved his dams quickly towards the door of the Butchery, under 
cover of the anarchy all about him. Hegai's Butchery was a large new 
building, stone built, with the Crest of Ahas above the door. Below the 
crest were the words, 'Hegai, Supplier of Dams to His Excellency, the 
King."

The scuffle was extending along the road now. People were running up 
the road to see what was going on. Heads popped out of windows, or 
appeared from behind drawn curtains, curious to see what was going on.

Guy was fast beginning to panic. "Fuck! Get in! Get in quick!" he 
yelled, pushing his dams towards the open door.

"Call for Ahas!" someone shouted from the crowd. "Where's Ahas? His 
wife is free in the Casbah!"

A laugh. A horrible perverted laugh.

The woman was still screaming, shouting. She was angry and abusive.

"The Queen!" someone cried.

There was pandemonium everywhere outside: noise, fire, color, laughing, 
wrath, movement.

Guy pushed the dams through the door, first Ruth, followed by Esther, 
then the rest.

"God, what is all this?" he exclaimed, grateful to be entering the 
sanctuary of the Butchery at last. "What's going on tonight? Who is 
Vashti? What's happening out there?"



End of Series One, Part Six

