The Clown's Harem

Solomon answered the two other prayers, but kept them very brief and minimalist, as though he were a true god.

He did this for a few reasons. The largest being that time still flowed within his tent. The longer he took, the closer it would get to the date of their execution.

The second reason was because the more time that passed, the more prayers arrived. There was a lot to get through.

The third reason was because some of the women were simply not worth his time. Not only were they unattractive, but he also saw nothing that he could gain from them.

The fourth reason was because of Natalia Petrov. In order for the woman to feel special, Solomon made sure not to show any of the other women the same attention yet. This was a calculative decision from him, and would pay off soon, when each of the women discussed their encounters with the god.

Most would explain that it was over in just a few seconds, after confirming that the god existed and would answer their prayers. Whereas Natalia, she had spoken to the Clown for a few minutes and was even complimented by him.

However, keeping up with this was hard when the final woman came and entered his chair.

The first part of the meeting went the same as all the others. The short woman with short black hair that covered the top half of her eyes showed astonishment. It wasn’t every day that one had their prayers answered, so it was only natural to be taken off guard.

However, it was when the conversation neared its end that she suddenly started behaving frantically.

"No, please Mister Clown. Don’t leave me! I will do anything to stay here with you. I do not want to return to that prison!"

...

Solomon sighed as he leaned back in his chair.

Is this what comes with godhood? Obsessive women?

He looked at the woman carefully.

"What makes you think that you deserve to live with a god?" he asked, actually wanting to know where the woman’s confidence came from.

Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

"I will give you my body. You can do anything you want to me. Do you know that I am a virgin? Take my virginity. It’s yours. I’m telling you I will do anything!" she spoke desperately.

Solomon had to pause for a moment out of shock, but he disguised it as a godly moment of thought.

Is she insane? I mean, to be honest, there must be some novelty behind losing your virginity to a god.

Unfortunately, I have no desire to take such a thing. You are not really my type, ma’am. Too small.

Solomon had nothing against women with smaller features, such as their breasts and behinds. However, if he were to settle for a woman with such features, she would need to make up for it in other areas.

This woman, she was attractive, sure. Her black hair suited her, and her face was cute. However, she did not strike Solomon as beautiful. Not like Lucy, Aurora, or even Juniper.

She was average.

But the way her button-eyes stared at him, with her hands clasped together, pleading...

"Please, Mister Clown. I want to worship you. I want you!"

Unfortunately, she could not have him. You had to be special, to have a god.

But Solomon decided that he would give in and grant her that wish, partially. He decided that he would not take her virginity, but he would take her innocence.

Such was his nature, after all, gathering information about all things. Did that not include learning about the ins and outs of a woman’s body?

Solomon kept his face straight, not giving away any of his thoughts or emotions.

"Fine. Stand up, undress yourself, and bend over the chair. I will pleasure you, but only with my fingers."

The woman’s eyes gradually grew wider with every passing second. Then, a thick smile of joy spread across her face.

She leapt to her feet and yelled,

"Thank you, Mister Clown!"

...

Back in the Saint-Grato Dungeons...

All the women who had accepted and met with the strange clown god were sitting there, watching the last woman as she was left in a state of prayer.

When one was dragged into the realm, their body seemed as though it was still active, but stuck in their last position of prayer.

Svetlana didn’t know much about this final woman, other than the fact that she was in prison and facing execution for murdering her own brother, who was a well-known fashion designer.

The King had seen his death as a great loss to the kingdom, so it only made sense for the one responsible to be put to death.

The small black-haired woman was leaned back against the wall with her eyes closed, her head tilted up towards the heavens.

Each of the women sat around her, watching her closely. They were heavily anticipating the end of their meeting, as that would mark the start of the plan that the Clown had told them.

"Isn’t she taking a long time?" one of the prisoners eventually pointed out. "He never spent that much time with us."

"How do you know the Clown is a he?" another prisoner responded. "He seemed too powerful to be tied down by simple concepts such as gender."

"I agree," a third chimed in. "The Clown showed no care that I was a woman. I have... larger breasts than most, and yet I did not see him glance down once."

"..." Natalia remained silent. She felt certain that the Clown was some sort of male, even if he was all-powerful.

The women all suddenly broke into chatter, discussing the nature of the Clown.

Their chatter was soon cut off by a strange sound.

A soft moan.

"Nnghh..."

Their eyes all turned to the woman who was currently in prayer, meeting with the Clown.

Her cheeks were blushed red, and there was a wet patch that had formed at the crotch of her prisoner outfit.