THE MAKING OF ORGIASTIC CYPRIAN. Episode VIII

The Making Of Orgiastic Cyprian is an episodic fiction by Oppong Clifford Benjamin which focuses on educating its readers on the sacredness of sex and how the pleasurable act can be a divine form of prayer between a creature and his creator. The story focuses on a mysterious sect of young ladies between the ages of seventeen and thirty called The Ancient Aphrodisiac Cult (The AAC). The cult is strictly invented out of the creativity of the writer, however, some settings in the story maybe real.
We hope you enjoy this episode as well as the others to come.

Episode VIII

Miss Juan gnashed her teeth in both jaws in deep regret such that the flickering of her eyelids brought out easily tears on the cold floor of her office: where the morning sunshine that crept inside through the spiralling openings of the window found her. She spent the previous night on the floor of her office in coma after she realized her uninvited guest was the ghost of a woman she killed only months ago.

To assist her rising from the concrete floor, Miss Juan caught hold of one leg of the only wooden table in her office and helped herself up. Thoughts from the previous night reoccurred to her and she closed her eyes softly for a short while. Upon opening her eyes and looking around, she discovered a foreign yellow paper cling firmly around a peg behind the door. On the paper were instructions enciphered in a family of unfamiliar letters which were peculiar to Most Perfect Chiliads only. Instructions of high importance or top secrets of the AAC were communicated in codes.

P  J  K Q  Z 

Z  I  V  G L

C  U  W  O  S

T  F  H  I  B

Miss Juan hastened to her seat and looked in her drawer for a plain paper. She stretched her right hand to reach for the quill pen which was inserted in a small black metallic container which was half full of ink and was placed at the extreme right corner on her table. She gave an effortful regard to the alphabets one more time and smiled. Oh! I got. Easy! Miss Juan thought.  She began decrypting the message in those letters. Her facial expressions went through various stages, from confusion to depression as she fished out the message in the codes. 

“WHAT?” Her lower lips sagged down in shock. How can this be? Miss Juan asked herself in a whisper while she stared on the sheet of paper before her tired eyes on the table. She didn’t know what to say. But she had more to say in expostulation to the instructions, actually. 

Make Louiselle Most Perfect Chiliad immediately. Louiselle will conduct the ceremony of apotheosis for Prince Aziz, 132^nd Son of  Baba Binlawa; the Great King of Bolgatanga and spirit  husband of Hamamat, the Great Mother. You see why we need a clean Most Perfect Chiliad?

She soliloquized “But my term of office hasn’t elapsed. Moreover, Louiselle is not even a Most Wise Lady. How can the traditions be broken?” Miss Juan reclined in her seat, threw her head backwards such that her eyes looked directly at the sexually designed ceiling over her head.
For a second, she had thoughts to disobey the communication she had received. But she was interrupted in her thinking by the voice of the woman she killed months ago – Fatima Aziz. She was Miss Juan’s predecessor. 

Miss Juan, in a rumour, had learned of Fatima’s unwillingness to install her (Juan) into the throne of the AAC after her (Fatima) thirtieth birthday. It was a popular gossip among the qadeshes that Fatima was a black racist; she wanted to go around Miss Juan for Miss Asabea who was the only black African in the hierarchy.
But on the night of Miss Fatima’s thirtieth birthday - according to the established customs of the AAC a Chiliad’s thirtieth birthday must be celebrated in a grand feast of alcohol and lot of sexual activities because it also marked the end of her reign - Miss Juan poisoned her Chiliad. In the morning succeeding her birthday, Miss Fatima was found dead and her body indecently interred at the back of the temple of Ishtar with a sprig of acacia tauntingly stuck into the hill of earth that covered parts of her remains.
Louiselle who had first discovered the dreadful scene, exclaimed Horrenda visu! Maledictionem super auctor est.  Horrible scene! Curse is onto the perpetrator.



“Just do it. Else you will watch the manner of your death” Miss Fatima’s voice came through a stale air. But Miss Juan was the least frightened by the cold voice of a ghost, worse horrible things had happened to her in the past day. 

“I will. But I thought Qadesh Asabea would be your choice”
 
“You counsel yourself with rumours. You are not wise, Juan” 

Miss Juan attempted an explanation but ……..

“…..shut up! You fool. You read books and memorize their contents by heart but your sharp retentive memory didn’t make you any wise. You read more but know very little. And now you will lose what you desire the most.”

Realizing she had been foolish, Miss Juan slammed a fist of the right hand into the palm of the left and motioned her recent gesture closer to her lips as if kissing her clasped hands. She remained in this positioned for quite some time and then took a deep breath in and exhaled. She repeated the exercise for three consecutive times before she exited her office.

Her feet carried her in reluctant steps down the winding stairway into the main hall beneath her office, where the qadeshes had assembled to partake in the usual morning service: an amorous touching of their naked selves by the Chiliad and the passionate licking of the Chiliad’s wet middle finger after she had inserted it into her vagina. 

It was after the service Miss Juan made the announcement that surprised everyone including the blond lady- Miss Louiselle.

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THE MAKING OF ORGIASTIC CYPRIAN. Episode VII

DISCLAIMER: Please note that the group AAC and the histories herein written are all fiction, strictly from the writer's imagination. Thank you.

The Making Of Orgiastic Cyprian is an episodic fiction by Oppong Clifford Benjamin which focuses on educating its readers on the sacredness of sex and how the pleasurable act can be a divine form of prayer between a creature and his creator. The story focuses on a mysterious sect of young ladies between the ages of seventeen and thirty called The Ancient Aphrodisiac Cult (The AAC). The cult is strictly invented out of the creativity of the writer. However, some settings in the story maybe real.
We hope you enjoy this episode as well as the others to come.

Episode VII

She glanced at her contiguous presence and at her right fingers, and wondered if biting her finger nails could bring the relief she so badly needed or if death would be a much better option, Miss Juan was in no peace with herself neither with God nor the Great Mother. She had only learned from the recent encounter with the Great Mother that her hellish acts were known by the Mother.

“Hamamat Montia
Loiuselle”

She whispered the names to herself and cursed the first time she heard those names in her life. Miss Juan climbed up the wooden winding staircase which led to the middle chamber of the temple. The middle chamber housed the office of the Most Perfect Chiliad and the sanctuary which the Chiliad entered but once a year to make propitiation for the sins of the Qadeshes. She paused at the third step and leaned her slim and tender body against the gold plated metallic support of the stairway, and threw her head backwards in utmost despair and allowed her long black hair to droop down in the space. When finally she gained the summit of the winding staircase, she again tilted forward on the door of her office, which to her extreme surprise opened wide because it was ajar. She gained sudden consciousness of her easy entrance into her office because she remembered she had banged the door closed behind her in the morning before she descended the stairway into the main hall for Hamamat’s ceremony of invitation.

Miss Juan’s eyes gapped wide. She veered to look curiously at the far right corner of the immediate environment, finding nothing interesting she slewed to the left and then looked back at the steps she had used. She became frightened of her shadow and wondered who had been her unwanted and unexpected guest.

“Come in, please” The voice was a woman’s - slim and smooth and soft.
Panic-stricken Miss Juan moved her left hand reluctantly and caught hold of the door frame, which aided her body to sleuth inside the office without entering. Her reddened eyes were too tired of crying; she had cried in strident voice through the greater part of day, but they could see clearly when she skimmed through her office.

NOTHING

She emitted heavy breaths through her nostrils, her thoracic cavity almost touched her chin when she inhaled.

“I said come in” The voice sounded louder and authoritative, it ordered Miss Juan into her own office.

But Miss Juan found the command very eldritch, so she ran to the acme of the stairway to stretch her neck so long that she could gain sight of the hall beneath her current location. She saw that the assemblage had broken and all the qadeshes except Louiselle who stood beside Hamamat Montia in the middle of the pentagram drawn on the floor had vacated the hall to their personal comforts in their respective private cubicles in the Cathedral.

There were only two superb and stately edifices in the ice on the meridian of Mountain Troodos in Cyprus- the temple of Ishtar and its twin sister the cathedral. Both of which were designed and constructed to hold sacred and religious activities; the former to host the sacred ladies who performed the apotheosis (the elevation of man to God) of the ancient Egyptian Kings, and the later to practise Catholicism therein.

But history informs us the Catholicism practices were in dissonance with men seeing themselves as Gods by just going through some sort of ceremony and being thereafter worshipped as such. And the members of the Ancient Aphrodisiac Cult then known as the Sex Cult argued that they also used the same scripture as the Catholics but it was rather unfortunate that Christians in general want to proudly believe the Bible but shamefully ignore those portions of scripture which required the effort of their mental faculties or inconvenience them. The qadeshes saw the Catholics as clamorous and faux believers of the words of God.

Among the many portions of scripture the qadeshes quoted against the Catholics were some which even a High Priest in the Cathedral agreed to.

In Genesis it was said that we (Humans) were created in the image of God. Meaning men are neither inferior nor superior to God. And also in Luke 17: 20-21 says the kingdom of God cometh without observation but it is in every one of human beings. 

Relying on these selected portions of scripture, again, history communicates to us the Qadeshes finally won the argument and the Catholics moved southwards mount Troodos in order to preserve the old peace of their faith. And the Cathedral after many years of vacancy was lost in ice and in the woods.

It was during the sovereignty of Linda Londart Longman, the forty third Most Perfect Chiliad of the AAC, who reigned from 1656 to 1701 that the Cathedral was mined out of the ice and used to house the Qadeshes and their invited men. Before this era, the Qadeshes lived with other humans in the cities of Cyprus close to Mount Troodos but kept their membership secret from the everyday Cyprians.

Miss Juan quietly observed the gestures of Hamamat and Louiselle and wondered if they also heard the unseen female voice. But their actions said the contrary.
“Maybe it is me. Maybe the thing haunting me is only in my mind. Shake! Shake it off Juan” Miss Juan shook her head vigorously. And as if she was packing all the air in the temple into her lungs, she inhaled and exhaled heavily and assured herself that it was a psychological trauma.
“Come in now before I strike you death too”.  It was real. The voice of the woman was real, Miss Juan thought.

From nowhere a heavy wind carried her and threw her body on the table inside her office, and the papers were all scattered on the floor. Her conscience was not there with her body, it left her to somewhere unknown but only for a brief time. Upon regaining consciousness, she looked around her own office like a stranger. She saw the papers and books dispersed on the floor and then lifted her eyes and right beside the closed door, Miss Juan saw the owner of the voice with the Mystic yoke of the AAC (a yellowish piece of cloth) wrapped about the waist of the old lady. And she emitted a long cry of the old lady's name. And conked.

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