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Stories From The Colonies

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old slave

FELIS RESPICIENS
This is a story from a very dystopian present.

I plan three parts, and will post the first very soon, the rest when I write them. Each part will be a complete story, but they link together.

I have taken many liberties with the Christian religion, so those who's view of the world is that the Bible as now written is the absolute truth may be offended. I hope those of an inquiring mind (which on this forum is many) will pause and contemplate what might have been.

I dive straight in, to get the reader intrigued, and not make the first post all factual. All (I hope) will be revealed.
 
Part 1 England

I The Day Before



“Do we have to drive all this way, it’s all boring wasteland and scruffy peasants, too cold and wet to enjoy the outdoors, just to see some ancient religious ceremony which will only be chanting and smelly stuff” whined Talaka to her husband as he drove the hire car up Autoroute 1 towards York.


“I promise you, this festival is different, only a few of these are done in Europe now, and this is the biggest and has a surprise which I’m keeping from you” replied Xoplis, glad that the Autoroutes were Browns-Only, and his fast Shawnee-built sports car could go at its maximum speed, away from the lumbering old bangers the Whites drove.


Xoplis and Talaka were doing the Grand Tour, 14 days hopping from region to region round the European colony. Every well-heeled couple from the Mayan Empire enjoyed a holiday in the Colonies, though most went to the capital, Rome, and similar sunny resorts in the south, very few ventured to the cold, wet island called England. Xoplis was an academic interested in the old religions, so wanted to see some christian rituals, especially those involving crucifixion. Talaka was looking forward to buying some native-european trinkets in France and Italy to impress the neighbours back home.

________________________________________________________________________________

It was Friday tomorrow, and Geraldine was getting more nervous than excited now. Ever since her village, Leeds, had been chosen to provide the Jesua for the Easter festival, she had dreamt of the day, and all the preliminaries had been done, her body was prepared, and her part, although central, involved virtually no learning.

“Come along, Geraldine, have you got the cloak?” asked her mother, Ruth, struggling with the food hamper as they headed to the bus stop.

“Yes mother, not that it stays on long” snapped Geraldine, the outburst going unremarked by Ruth, who knew what the girl was going through, being a Holy-One herself.

The old bus wheezed along the rough dirt and stone track, and took nearly two hours to go the 12 miles to Otley. They wished they could use the Autoroute, they could see it in the distance, swooping over the valley of the River Wharfe on huge legs, but it wasn’t for the likes of them. Geraldine thought the apartheid system sucked, but they had to live with it.

Once in Otley, they walked to the church where Mother Vera was waiting for them. “Oh, Ruth, she looks quite splendid, she’ll make an excellent Jesua. A bit nervous my dear?”

“Yes, Mother, very.”

“Don’t worry, we know what we’re doing, in fact the show looks better if you’re nervous and confused, so we’ll say no more about tomorrow, just get you settled down in the crypt, and let the hoards get their money’s worth.”

“What are the bookings like this year?” asked Ruth, knowing a percentage would come back to Leeds.

“Not so good as last year, probably because of the cold Spring, but we’re getting more and more Chinese now, not so many from the Empire.”


They descended the steps to the crypt, and saw a circular cell in the middle, bars going from floor to ceiling, and manacles fasted on a diagonal, top and bottom. “You know what to do?” asked Mother Vera to Geraldine. Geraldine just nodded, and peeled off her dress and underwear. Vera and Ruth fastened the rusty old manacles to Geraldine’s wrists, tightening the bolts with spanners, chains keeping her arms out to her sides but not too tight. “Now the ankles, dear.” With her feet reasonably comfortable on sloping blocks, Geraldine’s ankles were shackled apart with more chains.


Ruth gave her daughter a kiss and a hug, and Mother Vera gave a hug as well, then they left the cell, locking the barred door.

________________________________________________________________________________


“It smells in here,” moaned Talaka, as they ventured in to the crypt. “Oh by the God of Love, look at her!”


Xoplis needed no invitation to look at Geraldine, she was splayed out for all to see, her sex neatly trimmed to get a good view.


“Hello. What…….is…….your…….name?” asked Xoplis, in halting English, while Talaka fought to control her emotions, admiration for her husband who understood the weird native language, but resentment that his eyes were fixed on Geraldine’s crotch.


“My name’s Geraldine, Sir. Honoured to meet you, Sir.”


“You….give…..good…..show. Much….pain”


“Oh, I will, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”


“This place is horrible” Talaka went on “just throw the sodding tomatoes and let’s get out of here, I need a drink.”


Xoplis dutifully threw the rotting tomatoes they had purchased at the entrance, aiming for the breasts and scoring four out of six, and they left. Geraldine knew she was in for a long night, she’d seen five crates of the things on the stall. But it was easy money, and eventually she’d be a Holy-One.

tbc
 
“Do we have to drive all this way, it’s all boring wasteland and scruffy peasants, too cold and wet to enjoy the outdoors, just to see some ancient religious ceremony which will only be chanting and smelly stuff” whined Talaka to her husband as he drove the hire car up Autoroute 1 towards York.
So Pp has something of a reset to perform though, as a suntanned Aussie, He might just have cut the mustard and scored a spot on the autoroute on His recent run to York.

Xoplis needed no invitation to look at Geraldine, she was splayed out for all to see, her sex neatly trimmed to get a good view.
But He looks forward to reading of what Geraldine might absorb as she gives a "good show" :devil:
 
He might just have cut the mustard and scored a spot on the autoroute on His recent run to York.

you said this was a "very dystopian present"

I looked upon this from the White-skins POV. I fear Pp would not now be enjoying his sun-kissed paradise if his ancestors were European, a description of this world follows tomorrow. Salt mine anyone? Or how about a vineyard slave?
 
very few ventured to the cold, wet island called England
when they could venture to the even colder, wetter part to the north, where the pallid whiteskins lurk shivering in the forests and scrape together what miserable sustenance they can find in the undergrowth, or grow on rainswept moors and headlands, the only 'reserves' they're allowed, all hunting and herding rights being reserved for wealthy oligarchs from the Empire, and trespassing on Imperial land brings hideous punishment. :devil:
 
when they could venture to the even colder, wetter part to the north, where the pallid whiteskins lurk shivering in the forests and scrape together what miserable sustenance they can find in the undergrowth, or grow on rainswept moors and headlands, the only 'reserves' they're allowed, all hunting and herding rights being reserved for wealthy oligarchs from the Empire, and trespassing on Imperial land brings hideous punishment. :devil:

Fear not, Eulalia. Wait til tomorrow for a pleasant surprise for yourself.

Unless you yearn for the life you've just described.

You can't have a good linkie-hunt if the quarry aren't fit and healthy.
 
I looked upon this from the White-skins POV. I fear Pp would not now be enjoying his sun-kissed paradise if his ancestors were European, a description of this world follows tomorrow.
Pp really should be careful on late night, wine-befuddled visits shouldn't He? Either that or blame the nearest slavegirl for distracting Him :devil:
 
Though rebels like Pp would be unlikely to be able to travel :(.
hang on Pp, you've been transported to a godforsaken outpost of the Empire
for some heinous crime like stealing a Mayan handkerchief :p

Mayan hanky.jpg
 
Oh I know, it's just a rollover in the calendar. And for sure, the Mayans wouldn't have had to worry about their analog of the Y2K bug, as their programmers would never have written that kind of code ;)
And that date was only the beginning of the end and never The End in itself :D.
 
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hang on Pp, you've been transported to a godforsaken outpost of the Empire
for some heinous crime like stealing a Mayan handkerchief :p

View attachment 447208
In every fiction is an ember of fact eul. A great great great grandfather was transported in 1827 after being convicted of the heinous crime of stealing laundry (still wet mind) from a clothes line :devil:.
 
I'm glad this story has opened up some discussion, sorry that I couldn't be around to join in.

A Brief History of the Empire follows, I thought it OK when written, but some of the suggestions are probably better. I won't hold it up any longer for a re-write though.
 
IA A Brief History of the Empire


If you’ve got this far, and wonder what the hell is going on, a few words of explanation:


In the early 1500’s, as the Spanish started to explore Central America with the aim of making their fortune, the Mayas and Aztecs, formerly bitter rivals, formed an alliance and defeated several waves of invading forces. Using bribery and torture, the captive Europeans told of the secrets of building ships, making weapons and navigation. They soon adapted their poisons to the more modern weapons, making essentially WMDs.


Thus a huge invasion force set off from Central America, and the Gulf Stream took them to the island known as Britain. They found this place most inhospitable, so rapidly moved south, and by surprise and the use of their poisons, took over France, the Iberian peninsula, Italy and the surrounding countries, till after heading East and crossing several rivers, they found it was too cold in Winter for them so they stopped.


Rome was a quite congenial city, so they made it the capital of the Colonies, and enslaved the populations in all the former countries where crops grew well, setting up plantations to grow tomatoes, the ‘three sisters’ of maize, beans and squash which they brought with them, and also the native grapes, which made a most enjoyable drink. Very few bothered settling in England, instead the government set up mining camps where young officers and soldiers were posted for a couple of years, supervising the native men extracting iron, tin and lead ores, coal, salt and phosphates.


Every village had to send its able-bodied men to a mine, on pain of being destroyed if any man was found. Lads just past puberty had to father a child or two before leaving to maintain the population, though artificial insemination is now used enabling the boys to leave earlier. Since all the men had gone, positions of power and religion were taken by women, and lesbianism was naturally the way to pleasure. Not many women knew the details of religion at the time of conquest, and had to learn first to read, then understand the few Bibles that remained, so some aspects of Christianity got modified into a female-centric doctrine, with Jesua as the Daughter of God, and some words were simply misunderstood.


The ready-made wall across Britain was the boundary of the Empire, Scotland joining the other cold countries as the Kingdom of Nordlandia. Native English heard about Nordlandia as a fair society, where citizens had a say, were educated and looked after, but most thought it a myth. Wales and Ireland were too wild to bother with. The rest of the world lived in relative harmony, with much trade between the biggest groupings: the Cossack Empire in Eastern Europe and North Asia, the Federation of Moslem Caliphates extending to the whole of Africa, and the Imperial Chinese Empire settling as far south as New Zealand.


The new technology of the Central Americans rapidly spread north and south, with the United Siouan Alliance becoming the main political unit in the north, having members up to the Arctic, and developing a co-operative culture where mutual respect and help, with no concept of land ownership, brought wealth to all. The nations around the Great Lakes became famous as engineers, producing advanced technology sold to the world.

The native Europeans, collectively called the White-Skins, were either enslaved completely, or could live in reservations, like the Yorkshire Reservation where Geraldine comes from. The reservation natives were under strict apartheid laws. The few good roads and hotels, built for the tourists, were strictly Browns-Only. And very strict No Fraternising laws kept the race’s apart.


Reservation natives in Geraldine’s village of Leeds subsisted on small-scale horticulture and catching fish from the River Aire. The Easter Festival at nearby Otley gave the chance to get money from rich tourists by putting on a show based on the old religion, and if the Jesua came from your village, the money bought some luxuries like coal to be given to all.


Our story is set round about the present day, though of course, the Mayan calendar records it differently. Thus we have fast cars and aeroplanes, modern medicine, telecommunications, but also slavery or serfdom is common, the natives on the reservations are dirt-poor, and we know about sacrificial practices of the Aztecs……



Main story Part 2 follows soon.
 
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