“They are certainly creatures,” said the Eldest. Her face flushed. Lot saw, dimly, the hands of one sister on the breasts of another in a corner. Instinctively, the Eldest began to paw, delicately, at the flesh of her junior. Their faces came together, with the Youngest treating her sister to a kiss. Behind him, the first stirrings of the two urchins could be heard.
And how would he fight angels?
“You'll be wanting food now,” Lot said. Weakly. This situation grew out of control. Where was his wife? “Wife?” called Lot.
“I wait for you,” she said, appearing now from the room they shared. She, too, had changed. Whose idea was it? Where had this come-what? His wife wore only the sheer gown that covered all but hid nothing. Lot's favorite. She swayed forward, her mammoth breasts exciting the urchins further.
“Oh, my daughters,” said Lot's wife, seeing the pair on the floor. “Come. Rise. Are we not to meet the angels?”
Their two daughters kissed each other furiously. Bodies a tangle of hands spread all around, moving furiously. Lot, from a distance, wondered where they had learned such technique. It was – surprising. Behind him, the urchins moved upright.
Lot's wife found her sense of decorum.
“Come, girls. Come. That is no way to greet an angel. You can play among yourselves later. For now, can you not feel it?”
“The stars, mother!” said the Eldest.
“The stars!” echoed their Youngest, her words muffled by the nipple in her mouth.
“Let us greet these angels properly,” said Lot's wife.
And the trio advanced toward Lot and his guests. Hungry, with the wanton eyes of maenads or amazons, determined to have their fill.
Lot drew back. Behind him, the urchins showed a measure of fear. That could help them. No one had told him about this streak of the wine. Two cups. Only two cups!
Just then, a pounding came at their door.
“What!” shouted Lot, at once terrified and relieved. The advancing trio paused. So much to process.
“Bring out your men!” shouted a chorus.
“What?” asked Lot of the door.
“Bring out your men. We must have at you tenfold!
“What?” asked Lot's wife.
“Mmm,” said the Eldest.
“Your men!” called the voices. Shouting. “Your men!”
“Men, what a waste!” sniffed Lot's wife. “Please, Lot, give us to them.”
“What!” shouted Lot at his spouse.
“Give us to them, now, Lot,” she said, reaching into the kitchen for a knife.
“I-I cannot give you the men,” said Lot, looking now at the terrified urchins. “They are my guests. Not of this town.”
“Give us to them, Lot!” repeated his wife. “Or I will cut you.”
“Bring out your men!”
“I have a wife. And daughters! My daughters are unsullied. Inexperienced!” shouted Lot, as he watched the hand of the Youngest move deftly between the legs of her older sister. “Would not they satisfy you?”
“No. It is not the time for that. You know the law. Tenfold. Bring out your men that we may know them!”
“What. A. Waste.” Moaned the Eldest between gasps as the hand between her legs moved faster.
“Father's right,” echoed the Youngest, reaching up to suck on the nipple of her sister. “This city is depraved. Mother! We should go.”
“Yes-yes we should. We should go out to find men! You-you angels! Find us men!”
“Bring out your men!”
The two urchins had had enough. They feared the angry, unfulfilled looks on the faces of the women more than they feared whatever lay outside. What did a man, in Sodom, have to fear from another man? There were beautiful priestesses in the temples to take care of any lust.
“Wait-Wait! Angels!” Lot shouted, as the duo pushed past. “At least give me your sacred message.”
The two strangers looked at one another, puzzled near the door.
“I am the Righteous Man!” said Lot, blocking the door. “Give me your message. You don't need to say it out loud. Only whisper.
Both men looked at one another. Then at Lot. One whispered something in his ear. Then the pair bowled him over and raced away from the knife-wielding woman, fleeing out of the front door, slamming it behind with a bang.
“Men!” shouted the crowd before Lot's house. He sat up, eyed the crowd through the door. At least 30 persons there. 40. 100. He could not count. The urchins, stunned, were seized by the crowd.
“Filth!” shouted one. “Disgusting!” added another. “Clean them first! Dry them! Prepare the way!”
“No, too merciful!” This from a fellow in uniform. “Too merciful. The law is clear. Pain must be repaid tenfold. No clearing the channel. They must suffer all. Remove their clothes.
The crowd tore aware the ragged garments from the duo. Lot saw one, in fear, throw up a half-bottle of his best vintage. At least they would feel no pain.
“Line up!” said the man in charge. “Let the largest among you go first!”
Lot looked over, say a giant blackamoor emerge from the crowd and remove his armor. Below was a staff the likes Lot had never seen.
The blackamoor spoke.
“I get no pleasure from this. But I am sworn, as we all are, to protect the priestess. Tonight we return pain tenfold. Let any among you who would dare to harm she who protects us know, this staff I carry, is the true sword of vengeance!
Wild applause. Swoons from the ladies in the far edge of the crowd.
Lot's urchins were held down, spread-eagled, their faces into the dirt. Nude, the giant blackamoor stood upright over the first. Now fully engorged, he set to, crushing the man with his bulk. Somehow, the staff disappeared into the poor urchin.
The fellow shrieked, with a blood-curdling cry that Lot wished instantly to forget. The blackamoor reared back, pulling himself all the way out, slowly, then pushing in to the hilt. Lot saw flecks of blood emerge from the unfortunate. The blackamoor paid no heed, moving to his own rhythm as the body below quivered and wept, begging for mercy.