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.