The Clown's Harem

Solomon sat in his tent and waited for the prayers to start rolling in.

At first, the blonde woman was sceptical to go through with his plan. She could not see how it would possibly lead to him being free.

But The Clown was not stupid. He would not tell her to do such a thing without meaning to.

Besides, even with the doubts she had, it was not like the woman had many other choices.

So eventually, she ended up leaving the tent and returning to her seat, prepared to go through with the plan.

...

In the Saint-Grato Dungeons...

Svetlana was returned to her physical body, once again constricted by the chains tied to her wrists and ankles, and the bars that prevented her from leaving.

She was sat down on the rough, cold ground, surrounded by all the other women who were set to be executed the next day.

You would expect the cells to be filled with evil, villainous-looking women, but that was not the case in the Kingdom of Calvin. Men and women alike could be imprisoned for the smallest of reasons; thus, the majority were actually beautiful noble women who had ended up committing treason in some sort of way.

The woman right next to her was one she was familiar with. Her name was Natalia Petrov, and she had been imprisoned for failing to pay her Creativity Tax, which was supposed to be a creative piece of art that everyone was required to offer to the kingdom once a month in order to please their god.

Failing continuously was not only seen as treachery, but also blasphemy.

She was a foolhardy woman, prepared to meet her death if it meant going against the kingdom.

Svetlana and her were different in that sense, for Svetlana’s love for the kingdom and its ruler was still strong and present.

Still, she tapped the woman’s shoulder, garnering her attention.

Natalia looked over at her, with a brow raised.

Svetlana sighed deeply, preparing herself for what she was about to say. It was blasphemy in the greatest way possible.

"Natalia, have you ever considered worshipping a different god?"

...

Back in The Clown’s tent...

Solomon received his first prayer less than ten minutes later. He smiled when he saw that it came from a new seat in the stands.

"Come and sit," he said, and the figure obeyed.

It moved gracefully towards the seat, and once seated, Solomon came face to face with a woman with straight brown hair and a beauty spot on her cheek. Her red lips were full, and her eyes narrow, giving her the look of a model.

Her face was stern, like the other women.

Are all women from the Kingdom so serious?

This woman was also dressed in the prisoner outfit, with the marks of chains on both her slender wrists and ankles.

Solomon didn’t say anything at first, and leaned back on his chair, one leg crossed over the other.

He wondered whether he would have as much difficulty with this woman as he had with the last one.

Luckily, that did not turn out to be the case.

The woman immediately fell to her knees and placed her head on the floor. It was an act that a woman as noble-looking as her should not have been doing. He thought that it looked degrading.

Until he remembered that he was a god.

"Mister Clown... Surely you are the greatest god? Calvenus has never answered my prayers in such a manner. No matter how much I’ve prayed, my words fall on deaf ears." Her voice was deep, but beautiful.

Solomon did not respond. He wanted the woman to keep talking.

She did.

"If he does not answer my prayers, then why should I worship? If I choose not to worship him, then why should I be executed for this?"

She then looked up at The Clown, but remained prostrated on all fours. There were tears in her dark eyes.

"Yet you have answered me, God of Information. I am prepared to dedicate my life to you, if you will accept me as your worshipper."

"..."

Solomon let the words hang in the air, yet thoughts were certainly running through his mind.

Bravo. This must be the greatest display of worship shown to me so far... Actually, that title might belong to Lucy, as she once spread herself open for me. Still, you are close!

Finally, The Clown broke the silence.

"What is your name?"

"Natalia Petrov, your greatness."

Solomon nodded. "Rise and take a seat, Natalia. Whilst you do look beautiful beneath me, I would like you to sit."

Natalia nodded her head and obeyed immediately. Her cheeks didn’t even blush slightly.

To Solomon, she seemed like one of those women who would obey his every order without question. She was certainly submissive, despite her serious expression.

It was the perfect first choice for him.

He looked the woman up and down.

Natalia was slender and elegantly curved, with full, high breasts straining against the thin prisoner garb, a narrow waist, and smooth, rounded hips that flared into long, toned legs. Her pale skin and graceful figure looked deliciously submissive, even in her current state.

She was an aristocratic beauty.

"You are in a predicament, aren’t you, Natalia?"

The woman nodded her head.

How did he know this? she thought to herself, before brushing it away. No, what am I thinking? He is the God of Information, not some fraud like Calvenus. The Clown knows everything!

She wanted to ask for help, but knew not to. If the god saw her as worthy, then she would be saved.

He did.

"I will help you. You and the other prisoners will cause an uprising in my name. You will declare your faith to me as you wait on the execution platform. This will certainly save you," he explained.

Natalia listened to his plan carefully as he continued to explain the details.

Deep down, she doubted that such a plan would work. The Kingdom of Calvin punished those who worshipped other gods harshly, so what would be different about The Clown?

But what other option was she given? After having her prayers answered, was it not wise to put all of her trust in this foreign god?

Coming to her decision, Natalia nodded her head and bowed deeply again.

"Consider it done, Mister Clown."

...

When Natalia left the tent, only five minutes passed before Solomon was offered two new prayers.