Chapter 4 – Uday fucks up. Fucking Uday up.

A/N: Hey all! Thanks for all the power stones or gemstones or whatever. I'm not sure what they do but I appreciate the gesture!

What I request is that if you like this story, please take 2 mins to leave a review (with ratings). This will attract more readers which I can honestly tell you is the biggest incentive to churn out chapters faster.

***********************************************************************************************

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

Very graphic scenes of torture follow. Please do not read if under 18 or squeamish.

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

***********************************************************************************************

After the American delegation returned to their respective home locations, I finally began to have decent nights of sleep. The tension and stress of the past weeks had given way to excitement. In my past life, my plans rarely worked out the way I hoped. But this plan could turn out to be a masterstroke. My days were filled with dreams about a citadel of progress in the ancient land of Mesopotamia.

I haven't talked much about my new family yet. Saddam's wife, or well his first wife Sajda…was actually his cousin. Her father was Saddam's mother's brother. I'll refrain from commenting as marriage between cousins was a fairly common occurrence in that part of the world, but I admit that in my prejudiced eyes it was off-putting. I may have been a bit harsh towards her in the beginning of this story.

She came from a poor background just like Saddam and I suppose coming from nothing and believing that the world is a harsh place where only the powerful prosper informed her life view. Having given her that benefit however, I admit that my interactions with her left a bad taste in my mouth and I don't mean literally. She was openly power and wealth hungry. She was also uncaring of anyone who is not a part of her family. An Iraqi Mary Antoinette if you will. I also came to believe that she didn't really love Saddam at all but saw him as a means to get what she wanted and I suppose was also a bit scared of him.

I tried to keep my interactions with her to a minimum, she was barely educated and rambled on about inconsequential things while my head was filled with thoughts about judicial and police reforms. Luckily, Sajda and Saddam had a strange conjugal arrangement in that they stayed in separate wings of the Presidential Palace since before my transmigration. It would be vulgar to talk to much about my physical needs but I'll just say that it's better to be lonely than share a bed with someone you actively can't tolerate.

Saddam's three daughters were alright. They were kind of sweet and obedient. They had been trained since birth to become good wives to their husbands and by the time I transmigrated that's exactly what they were. They were definitely not underfoot all the time like their mother and I appreciated that immensely. Their husbands, were a bit idiotic especially Saddam Kamel, Rana's husband. SK would roll his tongue out ready to slather my feet every time he saw me. In the original Saddam timeline, SK was made the head of the Republic Guard but then he cocked up during the First Gulf War and then fled to Jordan where he tried to stage a coup which failed and then for some bizarre reason decided to return to Iraq where he was promptly murdered by Saddam's son Uday. Of course. In my timeline I want the moron out of Iraq and away so that at least Saddam's daughters can have a normal life and the fool doesn't get himself killed or mess around with my plans.

My younger son Qusay, was the reserved one. Saddam did not have many interactions with Qusay and the boy was too scared of his father to demand his time. Qusay spent a lot of his time with Uday and his mother which made me quite suspicious of his intentions and character although after I transmigrated he hadn't done anything untoward apart from showing eagerness for self-elevation. I had plans for him as well, but they weren't a priority right now.

And now to Uday fucking Hussein.

A few days after the American delegation had left, my special man in the Mukhbarat and personal bodyguard Ahmed woke me up gingerly in the midde of the night.

"What is it?" I asked a little harshly because of my grogginess.

"I apologize your Excellency, but there has been an incident which requires your attention," he replied softly and politely.

I shot up in bed, "The Americans?"

"No Your Excellency…it's Uday."

Hearing those words I felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over my head.

"What has that cunt done?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"I…uh…sir, it's…errr…difficult to explain. Forgive me Your Excellency but I think it would be best for you to see it and decide for yourself."

I grumbled only a little bit at Saddam's psychotic shitbag of a son making me get up from my beauty sleep but I dressed quickly. If Ahmed was waking me up and refusing to elaborate that means the shit has not just hit the fan but exploded like a fecal nuclear bomb.

We made our way through the corridors of the Presidential Palace towards the wing which Uday had made his own. It was all quiet except for our hurried footsteps. As we approached his bedroom suite I could sense that something was terribly wrong. The maids were gathered outside the door whispering to each other and trying to peek inside the barely open suite door.

Two household guards who were stationed by the door saw me approaching and started shouting at the gathered maids to move aside. The frightened women parted like the Red Sea as I strode forwards without pausing. The guards remembered to salute me and stand to attention.

Inside the suite, there were a few people I recognized who were all standing facing the bedroom and looking horrified to various degrees. These were more men of my household guard and while they weren't special forces, they were army-trained. Yet, they looked shaken and pale. Some of them forgot to salute as I walked by them.

As I neared Uday's bedroom, I could hear panting and giggling. It sounded like a hyena or a rabid dog. When I crossed the threshold into his bedroom I first noticed my valet Kamel Hana and the head of my household guard – Faiz standing a few feet away from Uday staring at him.

Uday was nude. And bloody. His bald, ugly face was bloated with alcohol and probably drugs. His eyes were wide and red and couldn't seem to focus on anything. His mouth was wide open and I realized that he had been the one giggling and panting. His relatively small cock was standing to attention and he made no attempts to cover it up. In his right hand was a long cruel knife, lathered in blood. Blood which was sprayed over his naked body and across the room but mostly on the bed.

On the bed lay a human figure. A woman. She was naked as well, but curled up into a ball. Her erstwhile clothes lay near the bed, clearly ripped apart. The woman was static and not making a sound but I could see the shallow rise and fall of her back indicating that she was breathing. She was covered in cuts, on her back and sides, on her neck, legs and her private orifices were bleeding as well. The white sheets of the bed she lay on was now a deep red.

"Baba," said Uday, noticing me. He giggled at me but then looked terrified as I turned to gaze on his face.

To say I was angry, enraged, apoplectic would be an understatement. The harsh fire of rage had evolved into something cold and ruthless. In my mind and heart I knew that Uday would regret having been born today.

"Baba," he said again, "I'm sorry."

I didn't reply to him. Instead, I gathered up a clean bed cover from a cupboard and covered the nude girl. She didn't react when the cloth toucher her.

"Get a few of the maids from outside to assist her. They will take her to the hospital and stay with her until she is allowed to be taken home," I instructed Kamal softly. He nodded and with one last look at Uday, he went to bring a few maids.

To their credit the maids who entered were workmanlike in avoiding the rabid animal and softly but firmly gathering up the victim and leading her out.

"Baba," the beast said again. "I'm sorry."

"My son," I said softly to him and hearing those words he relaxed a bit thinking that he was out of the woods.

I came closer to him and held out my hand demanding the knife from him. I gave him a small fake smile to encourage him. He smiled back. An innocent, mad, cruel smile and handed me the bloody knife. His cock was still at attention.

I kept looking at him but spoke to Ahmed, "Ahmed get your men in here."

He didn't need to reply, I heard him instantly turn around and shout at his men to come inside. Six burly men waiting for my command were behind me and a demon, curiously observing me was in front of me.

"Hold down his arms and legs," I ordered the men. They hesitated only for a second before complying.

"Baba?" asked Uday with a hint of panic as the men took hold of his extremities with force.

"Lay him on the ground. Cock up."

"Baba! Baba!" wailed Uday finally realizing that something was wrong.

He squirmed ineffectually. He was a lazy, spoiled brat while my men were hard, army-trained men. He was also massively drugged out. He had no chance. All he could do was scream "Baba! Baba!"

"I'm not your Baba," I said grabbing a hold of his erect cock. "And the Shaitan doesn't get to have a cock and balls."

In a court of law I'll always say that I tried to cut off the offending member in one slash, but I don't actually know if it was true nor it was even possible. In any case I had to effectively saw through his cock as it sprayed blood on all of us. Uday screamed at first but then he passed out from shock and pain.

Once his cock was dismembered I grabbed his ball sack and cut those off as well. One of the household guard puked violently to the side. The rest looked sick. Even Ahmed looked terrified. A part of me was pleased, the legend of brutal and ruthless Saddam would live on. A man capable of eradicating his own eldest son in the most bloody of ways.

Once my grisly task was complete, I threw the offending body parts on the floor and began to wipe my hands on a towel.

"Take him to a surgeon and sow him up. If he lives then he'll go on trial and hang. If he dies then feed his body to the pigs," I ordered Ahmed before walking out and not looking back.