Of Wet Mornings and Hot Chocolates

I've Got What It Takes 1

Round 1 - Historical Fiction

She stood, barefoot, as the lordly Nile flowed past, the gentle ripples caressing her toes. Lehleia was a young woman now, having crossed two-and-twelve years but two nights ago, two before a full moon. Her father's home was a grand white mansion, a little ways back. The temple of Ra, the one her father had ordered be built for the comfort of his dying wife, stood proud and tall at the top of the small hill. It was currently providing sanctuary to 12 priests. Her wedding was to take place in very little time.

Ankhon was a rich merchant, 30 years of age, with no family left. Upon marrying Lehleia, everything he owned would become hers. Her father knew this, so did Lehleia. They also knew this would not be her last marriage. But poor Ankhon was blind and stupid.

Lehleia's sister, Amol, had only completed 15 years when her third husband had tragically drowned on the day after their wedding. Amol had got the family a tremendous amount of wealth after the death of three husbands, but the third had managed to impregnate her, rendering her useless to her father. Lehleia stepped up, and now the six months pregnant Amol was forced to run around the house like a slave, ensuring that her sister's wedding goes all well.

Lehleia was dressed in a white robe that made even the eighty years old celibate priests of Ra lust after her. Her head gear made her look majestic. The tops of her barely concealed dark breasts made her desirable. Her husband would not know what hit him.

The ceremony was grand, after all it was Lehleia's first wedding. Her father served enough food to feed the entire village, and there was plenty of intoxicating mead for all those who could not afford it. Throughout the ceremony, Ankhon's hands ached to touch his young bride, to taint the pure flower of her youth. Lehleia smiled, knowing her plan worked.

As was the custom, the bride and the groom spent the night at her father's house. Lehleia had been disrobed, her young, virginal body laid on the bed, stretched to provide the perfect view to the naked and hard groom. The nudity and the aroma of the candles in the dark room stirred something in her loins, but Lehleia ignored it. She smiled and beckoned to her better half, curling her toes in the process. He growled and pounced on the low bed, shaking the frame, and grabbing onto her dark hair, forcefully kissed her.

Oh, how Lehleia craved to give in to desire. But she could not risk a child. Her husband thrust his body into her tiny one, almost breaking her resolve. She kissed him, trying to tame the fire gnawing at the inside of her abdomen. Barely had the kiss finished when the poison smeared on her lips started its work. Ankhon was dead in no time.

Lehleia got up from the bed, pushing aside her dead husband's body, and still naked, walked to her father's chambers. He was in bed too, pounding into a very tired and hurt Amol. She knelt by the bed, watching the erotic scene through heavy eyes.

"It is done, Father."

He laughed maniacally, before howling in pleasure. "Come my young child," he called out to Lehleia. And he made a woman out of his daughter.