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The God King comes when he is five years old, to take him away.
He doesn’t know why he must leave his mother and father to live with the great En Sabah Nur, only that all must obey the Pharaoh’s wishes and follow his command. His mother cries as she embraces him tight, and kisses his cheek; his father’s eyes are red and swollen when the Pharaoh reaches to take his hand.
“Come with me,” he says, soft and sweet, grip ever so gentle on his tiny hand. The Pharaoh is garbed head to toe in threads of silver and gold, bright and beautiful as the sun. “You are one of the blessed, gifted with great power. You will serve me, and love me, and help me guide this world to a better existence.”
He nods to show his understanding, and then turns to say a hesitant farewell. But neither of his parents answer his call; instead his mother clutches desperately at his father’s hand, and the two of them collapse onto the ground unmoving, arms wrapped around one another as the Pharaoh steers him through the glowing portal.
Chaires never sees either of them again.
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There are others like him at the palace, blessed with gifts that make them different – and strong. Four there are that serve the Pharaoh loyally and faithfully without question, enacting his divine will on the awed and fearful populace. There is Aneksi who flies with the wings of a bird, high in the Egyptian sky; Kiya that deals death by fire with a mere flick of her hands. There is Yuf with the strength of a mountain, tall and forbidding; and Nehi with the power to heal his own wounds, making him all but invincible as he leads the Pharaoh’s armies into war.
And all of them, each one, are wary of Chaires’ power.
For he is the one who hears the prayers of the people in his sleep; sees the hearts of men who come before him, discerning their intent or swaying their thought at the Pharaoh’s beckoning. He is the eyes and the ears of the God King, and soon the voices whisper, he will be so much more.
“I have waited many lifetimes for you, my child,” En Sabah Nur says to him, when it is the fourteenth year of his birth. “Soon the wait will be over, Chaires. I will be young again, and you…you will finally take your rightful place at my side.”
-----
The Pharaoh returns as promised in a new body, his mind and his spirit reborn. He wears the face now of his young General Nehi, the one who could not die from wounds inflicted on him in battle. At his side is someone Chaires has never met before, a man with the power to shape and move copper and bronze at his will. He is tall and wiry and breathtaking to behold, his grey-blue eyes steely and penetrating as they rake over him from head to toe.
“Iruk,” the Pharaoh says, addressing the man – perhaps only three to four years older than Chaires –with an indulgent smile. “Here is my Chaires, my most precious jewel, and soon to be my Consort.” The God King places a warm hand on his shoulder, a touch, new and wholly possessive, sending a shiver down his spine. “Guard him with your life, or you shall forfeit yours.”
Iruk glances at him then with narrowed eyes, curiosity and a burgeoning desire coloring his thoughts before he turns to the Pharaoh and offers a respectful bow. “As you command, your Majesty. He’ll be safe with me.”
-----
The procession winds slowly through the city streets, thousands lining the way from the great temple Hut-ka-Sabah at the river’s edge to the grand palace at the heart of Memphis. Voices, raised in supplication reverberate as the golden litter passes, lauding the might of the God King and his new, beloved Consort.
At the Pharaoh’s side Chaires sits quietly, his elaborate mask and heavy robes studded in gems and inlaid with gold. The steady, murmuring chant all around them is rhythmic and addictive, as Chaires casts his mind out and into the crowds, reveling in a sea of awed devotion and euphoric highs. But there is fear too, and anger, and accusations of blasphemy, and those few who would gladly see an end to the Pharaoh’s reign.
Peace, my child, Chaires’ hears, the silky voice of En Sabah Nur like a whisper, or a gentle touch. There will be time to deal with those who dare oppose us. Time for you to root them out, and for my disciples to crush them from existence. We do not forget.
Yes, my King, he answers. As you command.
-----
When the procession ends at the palace’s entrance, the Pharaoh takes his hand and guides him carefully from the litter. Iruk and the others move to flank them as they make their way side by side up the massive stone steps, their path lined on either side by the nobles and priests who serve at the will of the God King. They love him and fear him in equal measure, and now too will they look upon Chaires in the same manner.
The crowds and voices recede as they make their way deeper into the palace towards the Pharaoh’s personal apartments, until only four remain to accompany them inside. The Pharaoh’s bed lies at the center of the massive chamber, covered in woven cushions and the softest bedding, and large enough to accommodate ten grown men. A depiction of the Egyptian night sky covers the entirety of the painted ceiling; the walls themselves are adorned with the great deeds of the God King, the varied faces of En Sabah Nur in all his incarnations.
“Come,” he beckons, and Chaires follows, as the Pharaoh’s disciples move to take their places at each of the four stone pillars around the room. All of their faces are impassive, their eyes staring straight ahead; all except for Iruk whose gaze tracks Chaires across the vast space like a hunter with his prey, hungry and burning with intent.
“Will they stay?” Chaires asks as they each remove the other’s ornate ceremonial mask, more curious than surprised to have an audience to their coupling. The Pharaoh chuckles as he rests broad hands on Chaires’ shoulders, before leaning to part his lips with the softest kiss.
“They are here to bear witness to your becoming,” the Pharaoh answers, his hands sliding under the collar of Chaires’ robe, caressing the skin at the joining of neck and shoulder. He follows the words by savoring the taste of Chaires’ mouth again, hands slowly unwinding the sash to shed the intricate layers, baring him to the Pharaoh’s keen eyes. “I intend to gift you with limitless power, my Consort, so that you may truly deserve your place at my side.”
The words are a promise, a decree made long ago, when Chaires was just a boy and the Pharaoh a God in an old man’s body. Now En Sabah Nur stands with his glory renewed and wholly revealed, beautiful and terrible to behold as Chaires trembles – with equal parts fear and anticipation – in his arms.
“Shh,” the Pharaoh soothes, as he lifts Chaires with careful ease, and lays him gently onto the bed. “Do not be afraid, my Consort, for I intend only to pleasure you and teach you in the ways of the flesh. You will be mine, body and soul, now…and into eternity.”
He punctuates the announcement with another heated kiss, one that sends a shiver down Chaires’ spine before the Pharaoh pulls away to strip out of his own garments. And when his new husband is fully revealed to him, Chaires finds himself looking on with bated breath, taking in with rapturous awe the toned muscles and broad chest; truly a god in a mortal’s body.
His skin burns where En Sabah Nur touches him, hands and lips trailing up his calves to the soft spot behind his knees, before moving to the tender flesh of his inner thighs. Chaires’ cock swells with every gentle stroke and reverent kiss, as the Pharaoh maps his flesh between murmurs of adoration, teasing Chaires with skill borne of a thousand sated nights. He arches against the thumb that rubs against a hardened nipple; moans when a tongue flickers against his oiled entrance, already loosened in preparation for his wedding night. He is nothing but yearning, yielding flesh, slave to the pleasure En Sabah Nur pulls from every inch of him, inside and out.
He cries out when the Pharaoh breaches him at last, the slow, aching stretch making him dig his fingers into the bed, arching his back as he’s filled to the brim. Chaires can scarcely breathe from the pain edged pleasure that courses through his body; from the way En Sabah Nur surrounds and penetrates every part of him, slotting in deep, hard and unyielding.
“Come inside my mind,” the Pharaoh commands then, as he slowly begins to move, driving shocky gasps from Chaires as he rocks his hips. He obeys, and lets himself be swallowed whole; opens his mind and his body to the power of the God King, letting his new mate into the very heart of him.
He sees himself now through the Pharaoh’s eyes, flushed and wanton as he writhes and pants, so beautiful and desirable in surrender. He feels the Pharaoh’s adoration and delight for his new Consort; want tinged with satisfaction as Chaires’ virginity is claimed, the feel of tight heat as he slides in and out, thrusting ever deeper. He sees the others in the room watching intently, lust and awe both at the sight of En Sabah Nur between Chaires’ thighs, their eyes trailing over so much skin, naked and glistening…
….and he shudders at the way Iruk’s emotions threaten to overwhelm them all, a desperate yearning to be in his Pharaoh’s place, to feel the drag of his cock as he fucks Chaires again and again, to have Chaires in his arms, moaning his name…
The Pharaoh laughs, a warm chuckle that he presses against Chaires’ lips and his cheeks, before rolling them both over on the bed. He bucks his hips up, making Chaires cry out, and the world spins as it rights itself anew, with Chaires speared and split open, hands clutching wildly for support.
“Beautiful,” the Pharaoh says, and Chaires flushes, even as he braces himself on the bed, feeling himself being lifted and impaled, over and over, again and again. He looks up to find himself meeting Iruk’s gaze, so hot and penetrating, a surge of lust wrapping itself around Chaires and dragging him alight, flinging it up and outwards from the confines of the chamber and the rooms beyond, to the grounds and the palace walls and the great city of Memphis, out and out and on and on…
...he is every star in the heavens aimless and free, thousands upon thousands as they float in the empty night sky…
…he is the wind that drifts across deserts and rivers and mountains and seas, soaring high and wrapping the world in his trembling arms…
…he is every man and woman and child that was and is and ever will be…
Let go, the Pharaoh whispers, a voice in the void, a soft breeze that swells into a thundering roar –
He screams as the orgasm shoots through his body, a searing, almost unbearable pleasure that devastates everything in its wake. There is power, immense and immeasurable that hums now in his veins; he can feel the minds of the entire city, and the whole wide world beyond…
…he can reach all of them at once or just one within millions.
And he can remake the world to suit his every desire, or tear it apart for nothing more than a whim.
When he opens his eyes, the Pharaoh is holding him in his arms and smiling at him, the two laying entwined, sated and content on the bed. Chaires can feel the Pharaoh’s spend trickling down his legs, an ache starting to bloom hot and throbbing between his thighs. He looks around and is surprised to see the others all sprawled on the ground unconscious, though the Pharaoh only smiles again at the concern writ across Chaires’ face.
“They will all be fine,” En Sabah Nur dismisses easily, as he pets Chaires’ hair, pressing a soft and gentle kiss upon his forehead. “It is their privilege to have witnessed this rite, my Consort, my treasure, for now you are my equal in all ways that matter. We will rule this land together, gods amongst mortal men…”
“Yes,” Chaires agrees, as he curls contentedly in his husband’s arms, daring to steal a kiss from those reverent lips. “I am yours, my Pharaoh, my God King. For now, and for all of eternity.”