This is a standalone second part of a sci-fi story that began here.
Upon returning to his quarters, Mojtaba1268 asked for the blond woman to be brought to him. Even though he had some brief conversations with her at the observation deck and knew her name, he deliberately referred to her as the “blond woman”. When she arrived, Mojtaba1268 had already changed his uniform to something more comfortable. “You have an aura of arrogance about you. Where does that come from? Do you have no regards for who I am?” Mojaba1268 asked impatiently.
– I am sorry if I have offended you, Your Supreme Leader Excellency. That was not my intention.
– So, what is your intention?
– I often speak frankly, Your Supreme…
– Stop calling me that. You may refer to me as Mojtaba while we are in private, but at the presence of others you must maintain the strictest protocols.
– As you wish sir.
– So, tell me about you intentions, and be at ease.
– My loyalty is to the Islamic Starfleet and as so, I must be brutally honest sometimes.
– Even at being disrespectful to your Supreme Leader.
– It was not my intention to be disrespectful, and if I appeared so, I apologize for it.
– Do you not call contradicting your Supreme Leader an act of disrespect?
– No Sir. Based on my professional knowledge I believe dismantling of the Jewish settlements in the planet Fakhr1108 is an egregious mistake.
“Are you a Jew lover, Mrs…” He knew full well what her name was. Her credentials and background were checked a hundred times by the Islamic Space Security (ISS) before she was cleared to be in that spaceship, but he continued this line of questions for sole reason of intimidation and humiliation . It was his way of making his subjects feel inferior to him.
– No sir…
– I said, what is your name?
– My name is Jahandokht Hoosh Amookhteh.
– This is not your given name. What was it before you changed it to Jahandokht?
– Christine Chapel.
– Are you a Christian, Christine Chapel?
– I was at birth. I was baptized a Christian.
– And now?
– When I look at the vastness of the universe and the extent that science has reached to find any evidence of God,… and lack of any credible data to prove the existence of God, I have no choice but to believe that I have to withhold…
– How utterly ridiculous! How did you get in this spaceship? This is an Islamic vessel. How did you pass the security to be included among the most devoted Muslin space travelers? How…
– I have to withhold…
“Quiet! Quiet!” Mojtaba1268 was furious. His plan to have her as one of his sighehs was getting nowhere quickly, and he was getting frustrated. His last unsatisfied attempt to have vaginal intercourse with a woman was a few hours before his arrival at the spaceship Islam Trek. He was traveling in an all-male transporter when he asked for a woman to be brought up to him. To his chagrin he was informed that none was available in the spaceship, and none was brought there with his entourage. Out of sexual frustration he settled for a robotic woman. A technically problematic Islamic Mechanical Alternative Temporary Spouse (ISMATS), Houri-01, the earliest model ever made, was brought to him. Even though she was versed in providing Islamic sexual pleasures, Mojtaba’s male organ was too small for her normal size vagina, and her Automated Vaginal Amplitude Lineup (AVAL) was not functioning properly again to have him comfortably inside her, and so Mojtaba was not able to successfully copulate her. At the end he had to be masturbated, leaving Houri-01 frustrated.
“Are you a clone? Why don’t you have a husband? Why don’t you wear a proper hijab? Are you here to corrupt the pious Muslim men?” Mojtaba asked Jahandokht with frustration quite evident in his voice. Jahandokht, having sensed his frustration, contemplated her next answers more carefully, not to reply as she had done before.
– Yes, I am a clone. I was duplicated from my great-great-grand mother’s preserved brain tissue cells. There were 47 of us in the beginning but for one reason or another most of us were eliminated. What has remained I do not have any information about their whereabouts.
I refuse to get married for the sole purpose of providing pleasure to men. I do not wear hijab because…
– You know I can have you anytime I wish. It is written down that what God has allowed for the Supreme Leader shall not be denied by any woman.
– Yes, it is written in the Federation Law, but also there are many other entries in that same set of laws that contradict that statement. For example in the Article 21 it says, “The Islamic Intergalactic Republic of Iran must ensure the rights of women in all respects, in conformity with Islamic criteria.” This is surely a contradiction with Your Excellency’s wish to have ultimate power over any woman’s body. As you are well aware none of the Ayatollahs who are not under your control agree that Your Excellency has free reign over his female subjects in the matters of marriage.
– Ayatollahs’ opposition to me is a matter of political reason. They all know that I have been given a special gene to make me sexually potent, better than any men ever lived in this vast universe. Do you not find that charming?
The gene that Mojtaba was speaking of had greatly enhanced the frequency of his desire to have sexual intercourse, but not its quality. At the same time the size of his penis had turned out to be smaller than most men he ruled over. This negligence was not apparent to the genetic scientists that had cloned him; having raised him as a boy to adolescent they had not paid any attention to his penis size. By the time he had reached puberty he was already too powerful to be eliminated as a Ghalat. Once he became the Supreme Leader, he assassinated the rest of his clones, partially for the fear that they might have bigger penises, and at the same time he refused to have an Islamic Penis Enlargement Surgery (IPES), a routine procedure, for the fear that he might be put to sleep forever, or his penis might be cut off as a revenge for his murderous reign.
“On the contrary, I believe true tenement gratification emanates from emotional bonding, something you would never be able to achieve with your temporary wives.” Jahandokht told him with a bereft expression on her face, no longer having cared for the consequences of her words.