Dwindling Options

by Allen Baker

It wasn't until the floor started to very slowly move beneath my bare feet that I began to discern the High Priest's diabolical intent. How long did I have? My life was at stake. My realm was in jeopardy. And that wasn't all.

* * * * *

For centuries, my dynasty and the priests had vied for a delicate balance of influence over our people. At various times, my ancestors had exerted the controlling force. In other eras, it had been the priests who had pressed themselves into influence over the people. And so our culture had swayed between the two forces, and the overall balance achieved had propelled our people into prominence over our neighbors. We are the dominant culture – the rulers.

But the current High Priest who came to power during my father's rule was a cruelly ambitious man. When y father mysteriously died leaving me, his only son, on the throne, the High Priest outwardly smiled his blessing upon me. Even at my young seventeen years, I had never seen a smile I distrusted more. It has taken less than two years from my crowning to prove me correct.

Earlier today I found myself fleeing through the back stairs and halls of my palace pursued by his guards. Where were my guards? Were they still alive? It wasn't long before I was cornered, stripped and bound, and brought here to this sub-cellar chamber of the temple.

He took his time coming to me, letting me contemplate my doom. The words shouted from my lips as soon as he entered. "You won't get away with this! Even you will not escape the wrath of the people when they learn you have slain me!" My words dripped with rage.

He stood placidly looking down at my nudeness. Then a faint smile flickered about the corner of his mouth as he spoke. "I have no intention of slaying you. I'm here only to offer you choices." He nodded to the guards who quickly pulled me to my feet. They wrestled my defenseless body to the side wall where a short wooden ledge extended from the carved rock wall at crotch level. One of the guards grabbed my genitals splayed them across the flat wood surface. Another centered a large metal spikes on the head of my rod and hammered at it. Pain flashed through me as he continued to attach me fast to the ledge. Then he took two more spikes. I watched in horror as he attacked first the left then the . right orb, and with the same technique nailed them fast to the plank. With my hands still bound behind me, I had no means to protect nor comfort my male prides.

The High Priest's final words slowly penetrated my pain. "You have choices. You can remain here and die a slow painful death. Or you can cut yourself free." One of his men placed a sharp blade in my hand. The High Priest grinned as they all left.

I had just begun to maneuver the blade to cut through the rope bindings when I felt the first movement under my feet. Looking over my shoulder, I could see the floor inching away from the far wall. How long did I have before it disappeared beneath my feet? What lay below? Frantically I sawed at my ropes. Suddenly they dropped away. My hands were free!

But I was still a prisoner, held in place by very secure metal piercing my throbbing manhood. And that's when his evil plan truly struck me. I didn't have time to wait for the floor to reach my feet. The door arch was only halfway along the front wall. To escape, I had only one or two minutes before the moving floor put it out of my reach.

No time to think of plot. No time to plan or hope. Only time to act. And only one action to take. Quickly, with fumbling fingers, I tightly tied a strand of the rope around the base of my cock and balls. A quick glance at the door showed I had only moments left. I watched the trembling blade as it severed me forever from the three joys of my existence. I had leaped through the opening and dropped in a heap in the hallway before the pain hit.

In a red blur, I realized the High Priest had devised a truly ingenious plot. If I had died, our laws would have found he had not killed me. He also knew that our culture accepted self-castration as an acceptable means to a celibate life. But no castrato was allowed to reign. Either way, he figured he was ending the dynasty, leaving a vacuum that he was all to willing to fill.

I smiled through my agonizing ache. He obviously had not learned from his spies my closely guarded secret. I had already married and fathered a son. He couldn't know yet, or his demented plan would have been fruitless. My son would be declared ruler now. And I would serve as his regent until he reach the age of manhood.

I struggled to my feet. Now to exit the temple and round up some of my faithful soldiers. Once out, I would see that the High Priest was unmasked for his treachery. I would exact my vengeance. I stumbled along, plotting its means. Perhaps I would place him in the room I had just escaped. Perhaps.