The Lewd Hunt: Arisen Mission

The Lewd Hunt: Arisen Mission
Tags: Human x Mummy, Violence, (brief) orgasm denial

Three rows of men, ten in each, fell in line as the stone over the tomb first rumbled to life. The grind of stone on stone filled the movie studio. The sarcophagus, thousands of years old, decorated with ancient symbols of an Egyptian kingdom that all records forgot, fell open. It left a cloud of dust, a plume that lifted out and shifted in unnatural patterns.

“She’s up,” whispered one of the men in the back row.

Others hushed him.

A form lifted from the tomb, wrapped loose in bandages stained brown with time. The creature within was a mess of emaciated limbs, so thin as to be bone and joints wrapped in the leather of dried out human flesh. The face was wrapped thrice over, a headdress like a mane of jewels hanging off the back of the bald head.

The mummy rose from the tomb like a robot taking its first steps. It stepped out with determined but awkward footing. It ignored the bright overhead lights shining down from above, the scattered props of different house furniture off the studio’s ‘stage’, the cameras all turned away from the miraculous dead thing walking once more.

It stopped before them, eyeless sockets peeking from behind the wraps, watching the rows of men. A hand lifted, pointing to a man in the first row, Charles Stogner. He was dressed down, a warm jacket over his button up shirt and clip on tie. On the breast of his shirt was a lioness pin, shimmering like silver.

The room wasn’t silent. Something else was hanging in the air, an aura, an idea, words unspoken. The skin of every man crawled, and Charles was no exception. He swallowed as everyone inched away from him. He took a step forward.

“Nedjem-Heru,” Charles said as he took a step forward, trying to wrestle with the words long practiced but never used, words he had prepared to say for most of his adult life. They were in some other tongue, not quite Egyptian, but close enough that he had to learn that first. “‘You have been called, by us who serve you. You have been called-’”

“I’ve got this, kid,” Came another voice from behind the rows of men. The crowd split to a man’s silhouette at the doorway to the studio. He strode in, his eyes intense, his skin pale, and a predatory step to his gait.

Charles couldn’t hide his hatred.

“Mr. Davenport, Sir.” Charles said with a bow of his head.

Davenport walked past Charles as if he hadn’t said a word, walked right in front of Nedjem-Heru. The mummy was still, its body not adjusting to the man right before it, as if looking right through it.

“Nedjem, honey,” Davenport said with a smile, “These men have done all the work to wake you up, the least you could do is pretty up a little bit. We have a date tonight, after all.”

If Nedjem moved, it was imperceptible. But all the men in the room save Mr. Davenport took a step back, an aura, a darkness, touching something deep inside them.

“Do you remember me?” Davenport asked as he walked up and touched the wraps around the mummy’s face, “I was there back in 1930, the last time you were up. I had one look at that face of yours back then and…”

Davenport gripped the covered face, and an insidious smile overtook him, revealing a pair of fangs.

“I just knew I had to be around for next time, that I had to be the one you chose when the inner circle called on you next. Well, Nedjem honey, it took a lot of sacrifices, I haven’t seen a sunrise in over 60 years, but now I am the inner circle.”

The mummy gave no response. It stood under the hot lights, staring through Davenport.

Davenport rolled his eyes, “Is something wrong here? This is taking longer than last time. Charles?”

Charles took a reluctant step forward, “Sir, You were the only one with the company last time.”

The vampire bared his fangs at the man, snarling, “Don’t tell me what I already know!”

Davenport took a calming breath, then snapped as he turned his back on the mummy, “Is there something you can do to speed this along?”

Charles cleared his throat, swallowing his pride as he tried to remember the special words, “Nedjem-Heru, ‘we call on you to help us once more.’” He said before switching back to English, “We request your beauty, your power, your grace. We request an act of the heart that only our great mistress can achieve. Please, choose the greatest among us, make an example that this age will not forget.”

Davenport turned back to the mummy, “The ‘greatest’, that’s me by the way Neddy girl. Just you and me, no other choice.”

The Mummy’s head turned to scan the room. The lines of men all stood as tall as they could with their knees wobbling. The unnatural thing in front of them judging each with an eyeless glance.

“Stop wasting time,” Davenport said, “I’ll kill all these sad sacks if that’ll make the choice easier girl.”

Davenport stepped closer to her, his fangs out, a hand reaching out to grab her by the shoulder.

Nedjem’s arm grabbed Davenport in a motion so fast even the vampire’s eyes bulged. The thin bone fingers beneath squeezed down, a loud crunch of bone ringing out in the room. Davenport let out a yelp of pain.

Then the bandages over the mummy’s face shifted, teeth surrounded by drawn back gums appearing between the old wraps. There was a guttural sound, then white hot flames erupted from the mummy’s mouth, pouring up and into the face of the vampire.

Davenport yanked himself free of the mummy’s grip, but the flames did not slow. He burned hot, and burned fast.

The men in the room broke, turning to run from the studio with panicked cries.

Davenport turned to a pile of ash within a minute, but he screamed for as long as he could draw breath.

In desperation, the large studio doors were pulled shut. But the mummy made no attempt to follow. It stood there, waiting.

One man was trapped inside, banging loud against the large metal door locked in front of him. It was Charles, who collapsed with his back against the door, watching the inhuman monster that he had a hand in awakening.

Years of study, preparation, and their confidence was shattered in mere moments. He was told it was for the good of the studio, that their mistress was the secret behind their success despite being such a small studio. Now he was faced with an ugly truth that only grew uglier.

Charles slinked to the corner, behind a ratty green couch. He watched, afraid that if he took his eyes off Nedjem for a moment, it would be upon him. It felt like even without moving, it was slinking, its aura coursing through the room in waves.

Just when he was sure he was doomed, the beast lying in wait for his next escape, Nedjem’s hands went up to it’s headwraps.

Charles noticed the fingers, before exposed as bone thin, now had glimmering nails on full fingers. The mummy removed the headdress and dropped it to the floor, then began to unwrap the bandages on its head.

Layer after layer came free, revealing deep eyes, a button nose pierced with a small gold charm, full lips that pressed into annoyed lines. Then there was her hair, a black bob cut, even as if measured and cut by an architect.

Nedjem, she seemed stiff, her breaths still small and inhuman. She didn’t look at Charles, but he could tell she was aware of him.

“You,” She said in something like Egyptian, “There. Come now.”

Charles pushed himself deeper into the corner. He was trembling, but he still didn’t look away. The fact that she was beautiful only made it all the more terrifying. She looked like a model fresh from the shower, her face bare but her looks impossible to ignore.

Nedjem took a deep breath, “Now!”

The command, it was definitely a command, pushed Charles to his feet. He took a tentative step, but his legs felt wobbly.

He had to move. If anything was going to get him killed, it was ignoring her. She was powerful enough to kill that bloodsucker in mere moments. He would be nothing.

Charles put foot in front of the other, and came out into the open.

“Yes… mistress,” He stuttered as he came closer. He could feel his skin crawling like before. But it was less powerful now, less immediate. He found the strength to look her in the eyes.

She did the same, her head turning to him.

Nedjem choked out her words, “You. Designated? You lead here?”

Charles looked back to the door, slammed shut in his face. But with Davenport gone, he was next in line to lead. The monster had killed every other member of the company’s inner circle save one who never bothered to be anything but a financial backer and an acronym, M.R.

“Yes,” Charles confirmed, in english, “I’m the leader.”

Nedjem turned, and looked around the room, “Robes.”

She was still wrapped in the tatters of her burial. Charles considered what she was asking, and realized his mistake. There was a whole ceremony that was supposed to follow, but Davenport destroyed all of that.

Charles looked to the ground, and saw a set of cases near the door. He ran, pulling them back toward the risen mummy. The larger one opened to several long robes. They had patterns of lionesses across the body, with egyptian symbols near the neckline. Each was made of the softest silks. Even touching them, Charles felt like he was going to break them.

He looked up, but Nedjem wasn’t looking at him. “Choice?”

She looked down, and pointed. Charles lifted them out one by one and watched as her finger followed the exact one she wanted.

He pulled it out, and then went to the smaller case, which included shimmering jewels. Rings, necklaces, earrings, all laid out in the case.

She snatched the case from him in a motion so fast that Charles jumped back. She reached down and took the robe as well, then stepped away from him.

It took no effort for her to remove the wrappings across her whole body. When she touched them, they loosened as if they had never been wrapped around her dessicated body at all.

Charles wanted to look away as they fell away, exposing her shoulders, the curve of her back, her plump buttocks. But he didn’t, couldn’t.

Nedjem bent at the waist, her most divine places exposed for the briefest moment while she picked up the robe, draped it over her shoulders. She put on her rings one by one, laid a golden necklace across her collar, wore a bracelet on each wrist.

At the bottom of the case was make-up, and Nedjem went to work on her reflection in the compact contained there.

She worked for minutes in silence, Charles stayed seated.

“My task,” Nedjem said in english.

Charles stirred to attention, “Yes?”

“How will I determine the most fit? Who has scribed their achievements? At the least, their names and breeding.”

Charles couldn’t help but notice her word choice, ‘breeding’. Was this what she would use to determine the best among them? Did they even have that information?

“What did you do previously?” Charles asked as he pushed to his feet and looked around the room.

“Previously?” Nedjem said with a hint of confusion. She stopped applying her make-up, but didn’t turn to look at him.

She didn’t remember, was Charles best guess. Which made him question so many parts of what was happening. How do you perform a sacred ceremony with a master that doesn’t even know their part of the bargain? What could they possibly gain?

He saw it. There was a tablet on a chair near the cameras at the edge of the studio. Charles went to it, logged into it, and brought it over to Nedjem.

“Mistress.”

She looked at it, and her eyes widened slightly.

“What is that?” She asked, “Why does it glow?”

Charles touched an icon on the screen, and files for each of the members of the company came up. Each had a picture, their vital statistics like weight and height, as well as date and location of birth, and more.

He showed her how to sweep through them. She almost seemed afraid to touch it, but when she saw him hold it, the fear vanished. He had to grab her hand to help her hold it with confidence, he was afraid she would drop it, and while he was sure M.R. could pay for more, he didn’t want to have to ask for a new tablet.

Her hand shrank away from his touch. He moved away, but the damage was done. She repeated his motion, and held the tablet with a stronger grip, but a line was drawn in what he could and could not do.

“All in english?” She asked as she went through them quickly.

“Yes,” He said.

“I’d have thought a bolder language would take hold by now.” She boasted with a perceptible disdain.

Charles sat a foot away and watched as she scanned through them.

“This one,” She said, lifting it up face level and pointing it toward him as if he wouldn’t be able to see otherwise, “This is you.”

It wasn’t a question, more like surprise.

“Yes, mistress.” He said with a nod.

“You’ve been with us a long time,” She said as she read, “Since you were a teenager. Why? Your family did not work for me. You have no ties to me or my previous efforts.”

It was true. The answer was embarrassing, and something he left in the past.

“Well,” He started, “When I began, it was because I saw you.”

Nedjem looked up at him, her blank expression the only sign of her lack of understanding.

“Sorry,” He said, “When last you awoke, they recorded you, there is video. You were, beautiful. But who you were, why you were, it was an enigma. I tried to track down the origin of the video. Considering how old it was, I thought it would be impossible. Then I found this company. When I rose high enough, I heard legends that you were sleeping, a beauty put into a sort of magical rest. At that point I gave up on seeing you in person, but at that point, I belonged here.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she brought the tablet back down, “That sounds foolish, and desperate.”

Charles felt his heart skip a beat. With a few words, she ripped out the core of his whole life. Still, it was true. He was still with the company because after traveling to the West, after joining such a strange company, he had nowhere else to go.

Still, there was something in her expression as she kept reading. It was hard to tell now with her make-up on, but it almost seemed like a blush. Maybe he was that sad, his story brought her shame.

He pushed himself a little further away, and let her continue to go through the photos herself.

She continued to review all the men, making small noises occasionally at this fact or that. Eventually, Charles closed his eyes, finally feeling some sense of ease with the strange woman in the room. It was possible seeing her struggle with the tablet gave her some humanity. Before, her terrible powers, transforming before him, even her behavior when it came to her clothing and jewels, it all felt like an alien that had sunk down to the earth. But as she played with the tablet, she was more like an amazed foreigner, unsure how to deal with the strange customs before her.

“That’s… me.” Nedjem said.

Charles snapped up to a seated position. His head felt a little groggy, as if he had passed out.

He stood, realizing that Nedjem had moved over to a couch at the edge of the studio. It was usually used for casting interviews, and then dragged to the set as one of their usual props.

She had a look of wonder on her face.

Charles could tell by the low piano jingle exactly what she was watching. He sat beside her as she reached a hand out as if to touch the black and white depiction of herself.

It was absolutely ancient footage, cleaned up sure but only so much could be done to save clips from the 1930s.

“I thought it was strange then,” Nedjem said, “The idea that my actions could be replayed before my eyes. To see myself not as I was, but as I once was.”

The times demanded an outdoor setting. Nedjem was dressed in silk robes like she was now, a man’s face buried in her neck as she rubbed his swollen manhood.

“Let me tell you,” Charles said, “I’ve seen quite a few erotic pictures from that time period. It is like the women then had no idea what seduction meant as soon as they were on film. The medium still had them in awe. But you, you ignore the camera, your heart is completely into pleasing him. It is magical.”

“Walter,” Nedjem whispered.

“Huh?”

She turned the tablet over as if that would stop the video. The piano tune continued, though muffled.

“They didn’t know,” Nedjem said as she stood up, slipping the tablet aside, “They still don’t. You’re all here to gather magical relics. This, all of this, is a matter of staying operational.”

Charles could see her memory was coming back to her. With it, her face seemed to carry more of her emotions. It was too bad she had to start with utter frustration.

“That’s why we woke you, Mistress,” Charles said, standing as well and following her as she paced the room, “We’re running out of business. The world has, gotten away from us if you will. We need another hit, so we can continue funding operations and collect more artifacts for you. The inner circle… Davenport, was sure this was the only way.”

“Then you were all played for fools,” Nedjem said with her arms crossed and a look of almost childish contempt on her face, “I’ve a mind to choose no one, and send you all on your way until you can bring me something worthwhile, earn your keep.”

“Mistress please!” Charles started.

But the doors to the studio let out a clang as they began to open. Nedjem and Charles turned to see the silhouette of several men pulling the doors apart. It was the crew, back as if nothing had happened. They marched back in, taking a look around before their eyes focused in on Nedjem.

“They return,” Nedjem said with spite.

“Right,” Charles replied, with about the same hatred.

A man stepped forward out of the group, wearing a shirt with a large-breasted anime woman on it, covered partially by a suit jacket. He looked like a failed tech boom upstart. A little overweight, but pompous regardless.

“Charles,” The man said as he came up, “Excellent work. I was afraid we’d find you dead in here.”

Nedjem looked to Charles with a questioning expression.

Charles didn’t have any answers. He raised an eyebrow, “Who are you?”

The man smiled, shrugged, “We haven’t met. Call me Malcolm Ross.”

Malcolm held a hand out, and Charles put it together as they shook. M.R.

“The inner circle,” Charles said over his shoulder to Nedjem.

“You’ve got it,” Malcolm said before breaking the shake. He looked to Nedjem, and his grin grew wider, “Thanks for protecting my mummy. I was afraid I would have to step in myself when I heard Davenport had you wake her up.”

“Your… mummy?” Nedjem whispered.

“Sir?” Charles could feel himself giving in to a history of listening to commands. At once, the experience with the vampire had left an unfortunate taste in his mouth.

“Nedjem Heru,” Malcolm said, suddenly speaking the Egyptian dialect of Nedjem just fine, “Are you ready to finish your task? Then we can put you back to rest.”

Nedjem took a step back, then spoke in english, “I’m still making my selection.”

Malcolm squinted, then looked around the room. He switched back to english, “Okay, how about we get the rest of the crew out of here, and I make the decision for you. I’m told I can be quite convincing.”

“I know what you are,” Nedjem said, standing tall again. Despite being much shorter than Malcolm, her expression managed to look down on him, “You’re a sorcerer.”

All the crew members looked between each other.

“You got me,” Malcolm said, “Then you know I can rip you to shreds if you don’t get back in your box when I say so. You should also know you can’t touch me.”

“That’s not necessary,” Charles said, standing between the two of them. The air felt electrified, as if lightning could strike any moment. There was an air of decay and disgust behind him where Nedjem stood, and a scent like rotten flowers coming off of Malcolm. It was all unnatural, but he also knew he didn’t want to see another man burned alive. Even if that meant putting himself in the way.

“Get out of the way idiot,” Malcolm said, “before I make you move.”

The ‘sorcerer’ held a hand up, his fingers held in a strange grip as if holding a baseball that wasn’t there.

“I’ve made my selection,” Nedjem said.

The crowd went stiff.

Charles turned to her, “What? Really?”

He stepped out of the way, the moment of tension gone in his mind.

“Smart,” Malcolm said with a grin.

Nedjem swiped her hand up as if pulling back a sheet right in front of Malcolm.

“It isn’t you.” She said.

Malcolm looked down at his body. He was glimmering, like a small cloud of black flies were dancing all around him. He looked back up at Nedjem.

“How did yo-” He began.

She enclosed her fist, and suddenly Malcolm’s whole body was gripped with a sudden spasm of pain, as if his mind was being ripped to shreds within his skull. He let out a guttural scream, held on to his ears, his back arching backwards as he fell to his knees.

“I’ve dealt with sorcerers much stronger than you,” Nedjem said as she stepped before the dying man, “They too thought themselves gods. They should have feared the true gods of the life after.”

Malcolm reared forward, grabbing at the edge of Nedjem’s robe. His eyes were bloodshot, a thick paste spilling from his ears. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out but cries of pain.

Charles pushed him off of her, then took the opportunity to knock the man out with a punch. The pain in his knuckles made him regret the wrathful action. But at least Malcolm Ross was quiet.

“Take him away,” Charles said as he stood up, “Let him die somewhere far from our set.”

When he looked up, he saw the looks of surprise and fear in the eyes of the others. Nedjem’s abilities were, again, terrifying. For some reason, it didn’t hit him as hard this time.

“Go,” Charles repeated.

Two men came forward, grabbed Malcolm’s body, and pulled it back out the doors.

The remaining men took to their lines again, and Charles positioned himself across from them, appreciating their form in spite of the terrible acts they had to endure.

Nedjem cleared her throat, “My task was to choose the best among you, and perform an act that would inspire the rest of you to greatness. Personally, I am appalled at the condition of the organization. After we’re done here, we will immediately begin to reorganize. Maybe this time you can keep traitors out of your higher ranks.”

Charles nodded, and several of the men let out an unsure, “Yes, Mistress.”

“That said,” Nedjem started, “I believe my choice among you has been made obvious.”

The men stood still for a moment, then began to look among each other as if this ‘obvious’ choice should have stepped forward.

Nedjem cleared her throat louder.

Charles looked back at Nedjem, “Mistress. I, don’t think we know what you mean.”

Nedjem wasn’t making eye contact with him though. It was like she was trying to only watch the rest of the crew.

“You would play dense to torment me,” She said, looking further away from him.

Charles felt his heart skip. His mind raced at the implications. He couldn’t believe it, not after everything that had happened.

“Mistress, do you mean…” He began.

She sighed, “I am certain it is my best option. Despite what I may have stated earlier, it seems you have escaped the gravity of your otherwise desperate beginnings.”

He took a step away from her, and tried not to smile too hard in front of everyone else. “You are sure?”

She crossed her arms, “Not if you’re going to keep asking. Charles Stogner, I have chose you for the ritual, as my exemplar mate. Our act of passion will, it will…”

Nedjem seemed unable to finish the statement, instead she turned her back on everyone.

Charles stepped forward, “Will serve as a model for all great erotic acts to follow.”

One of the men in line turned to the rest, “You heard her. Get the cameras into position! Build the set! We’ve got porn to make!”

The whole studio became a rush. Gone was the strange atmosphere of supernatural fights. This, the men knew how to handle. They pulled out furniture, searched for outfits, pulled Charles and Nedjem aside to prepare them for the bare bones script that was put together.

When there was a break, Charles looked across to Nedjem, who was having her make-up touched up and her jewelery selection reviewed.

He wanted to take a step toward her, talk to her, but he felt unsure.

Then her eyes met his, and she just as quickly dodged away. His heart sank. Even if she wasn’t normal, some risen creature from an ancient time, she was still being forced into all of this. It felt lame, it felt like he was going to squander a great moment in his life. But at once, he couldn’t go through with all of this if it wasn’t her choice.

One of the sound techs came to talk to him and Charles put a hand up to block him and walked past him. He went to Nedjem’s side.

She still wasn’t looking at him, but he spoke anyway. “Nedjem, mistress. If this isn’t what you want, feel free to say so.”

She was still, unnaturally still like when she first rose.

“If I said so, what would you do?”

One of the techs started to wrap up Nedjem’s legs.

“We’d move on,” Charles said, his eyes going wide as he looked around the room, “All of this. We don’t have to film, there would be no task. You’ve made your selection, the rest is just ceremony. We are here to serve you, isn’t that true?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Chuck,” The ‘director’, Gary, grabbed him on the shoulder, “We’re almost set. You need to get in position if we’re going to do this anytime soon.”

“Wait,” Charles said, looking back at Gary.

But when he turned back, several crew members were surrounding Nedjem, he didn’t even have an opening to talk to her.

“Come on Charles,” Gary said with a pat on the back, “We’re all happy for you man. This is going to be the best, it has to be right? We’re all here for you.”

Charles backed off, and headed to the side of the set.

They finished setting up. The little studio wasn’t capable of anything ‘impressive’, but several plot were already in mind depending on the mood of their mistress when she awoke.

All of them were full of cliches, and were more humor than serious plot. It was for the best, and Charles could even hear Nedjem give dry chuckles at some of the lines she was asked to read between her questions and demands.

When they were done, Charles was wearing tan shorts, a leather jacket, and the pith helmet of an old time explorer. He stood at the edge of a fake ‘tomb’ built around a make-shift sarcophagus. A pedestal was in the center of the room, with a golden ‘rod’, phallic in shame and size, on full display.

“Action!” Gary shouted as the camera men moved in to watch him.

Charles knew the rod was real. That was Nedjem’s golden relic, which all of them were sworn to protect. Every member of the company knew that if it was ever stolen or harmed, the wrath of their master would fall on everyone equally until she got it back.

He took cautious steps forward, looking back and forth, trying not to stare at the cameras that were circling on one side of him like giant black bugs hovering just out of reach.

He had a stupid line.

“I’ve found it. The final resting place of the great Pharaoh,” He left a break for comedic effect, “Tits-unkhamun.”

Charles stopped at the relic, “Whoa, gold. Though not all that big.”

He grabbed the rod, and despite the chill of the set, it actually felt warm in his hands. There was real power there, even as they used it as a prop on set.

The lid of the fake sarcophagus popped off, falling to the side. Nedjem rose from within, covered in loose bandages that didn’t obscure her eyes, or sizeable cleavage.

“Oh no, the mummy’s curse!” Charles shouted as he took a step back.

Nedjem climbed out, and Charles turned to flee. Then she lifted a hand, and said, “Stop there, thief!”

Her voice boomed. Even if he didn’t want to, even if it wasn’t part of the shoot, Charles wasn’t sure it was an order he could disobey.

“You trespass on the resting place of Tits-Unkhamun, pharaoh of most ancient Egypt, for that, you must pay!”

Charles had to seem terrified as he turned back, but he was more curious than anything.

When he looked back, Nedjem was standing, chest pushed out, a hand pulling away the few bandages covering her hair. She was looking him up and down.

“Pay? Pay how?” He asked as he took a step back away from her.

Nedjem walked forward and snatched the golden ‘rod’ away from him, holding it out at arm’s length.


“You would dare sneak into a woman’s temple, and steal her most valuable treasure?” She said, taking the rod and running it down her chest.

He knew the script demanded she looked commanding, in control, overpowering seductivity. Instead, he only saw straight on the eyes of the woman who otherwise couldn’t look at him. She was looking for something in his gaze, her eyes bouncing here and there, small and gentle movements.

He just had one question, what was she unsure of?

Still, there was no denying that she was entrancing as she ran the rod down her body, letting it slide over her covered breasts, before bringing it back up. She put it to her lips, and pushed there until they opened to let the relic fill her mouth, fill her throat. Most of the rod vanished in a slow thrust, before it returned to the studio’s light.

Despite his earlier objections, Charles was tenting out the front of his shorts.

“Of course,” Nedjem said as she stepped in closer, “Among the guilds of my time, there were many ways to pay for crimes so grave.”

Charles couldn’t remember his line, “L-l-like what? I mean, I have nothing to give you.”

Nedjem switched the rod to her off hand, and ran her free hand down Charle’s side until she put a soft grip on his manhood through his shorts.

He let out a huff of surprise, standing up on his toes for a moment.

“Take me to your bedchamber,” She said with a soft smile, “I can think of one payment.”

She leaped up and Charles barely caught her in his arms.

“Yes ma’am!” He said.

“Call me, mistress.”

“Yes, mistress.”

The shot lingered, “Cut!”

Gary popped out, and Charles turned toward him before placing Nedjem back down.

“Great job you two. We can’t spend all night on this, so time to flip the set. Hold hard, act two is coming.”

“Got it,” Charles said with a nod.

Nedjem didn’t respond.

They took a few steps forward, and the crew leaped at the chance to change out all the props and mess with the stage. They were already in a living room set, just with all of the nice carpet and walls covered to make it seem like a tomb. So they ripped everything down, and made sure it looked as nice as possible for a fake room.

“Nedjem,” Charles started as they worked, “I didn’t get to say earlier-”

She reached out and touched his groin, sending a pulse of surprise through his body.

“I believe Gary wanted you to ‘stay hard’.”

Charles got quiet, and let the time pass.

“Okay everyone, positions!”

He picked Nedjem back up, and they went to behind the door of the set.

“We don’t have to do this,” Charles said to her as he waited for Gary’s cue.

“Yes, we do,” Nedjem said.

“Action!”

Charles kicked the door open.

“Finally, we’re here.” He said as he took Nedjem to in front of the couch.

She got to her feet, and looked around, “Not quite a palace, but it will do.”

“So…” Charles said, looking around, “That payment?”

She held her arms out to her sides, “Get these rags off of me, slave.”

Charles didn’t remember it written quite like that. But he looked into Nedjem’s eyes, and saw that she wasn’t going to waver from it.

He rushed forward, and pulled the strips of cloth off of her, revealing her robes and headdress underneath. She looked beautiful, her every curve visible as she swayed her hips.

“Present your rod,” She said, with her chin up, “So I can weigh your payment.”

Charles looked a little shocked, then unbuttoned his shorts and pulled them down. His erection, growing fuller by the command, pulled free and rose toward Nedjem.

She stepped forward, biting her lip as she took the head into her hand and let her finger slide over the length.

“Impressive,” She said, “For a slave.”

She kneeled before him, her eyes coming level with his glistening tip. Her tongue reached out and slid up his length, his body shivering with every point of contact. Nedjem knew how to take it slow, savor every moment, torture him with the slightest contact. Her hands held him just right, cradling him on one end, teasing his tip in the other, as she lubricated his every inch with her saliva.

Then, when Charles began to question his stamina, she kissed the tip, and began to swallow him whole.

“Oh, oh my,” He said as much for the camera as for himself.

She held him tight as she worked, her tongue massaging him as the back of her throat provided just the right tightness and texture. It was divine, beautiful. She never kept up the same pace, moving slow one moment, then going faster the next, mixing it up and moving him all around.

All Charles could do is hold his head back, and place a hand on the top of her head. He tried to keep his sighs of satisfaction to a minimum, so they didn’t become loud groans.

She continued to ramp him up, taking everything he had and more, until Charles could feel the beginning of the end building up inside him.

Then Nedjem stopped, his length pulling free from her lips with a smeck.

“That’s it,” She said, tapping his penis once, “I have finished my judgement.”

She stood before him, her arms crossed again.

Despite the script calling for another cheesy one liner from her about Anubis and liking the weight of his load, instead she stood in defiance.

Charles didn’t think for a moment that she had forgot her line. She was going off script!

“And?” He asked, “What did you think?”

“It will take a lot,” She said, her eyes closed and cheek turned to him, “especially if you wish to pay a debt like yours. I don’t think you could manage.”

Charles took a second, his eyes darting around the set to think of his next move.

“But, you seemed sure. You chose me, and you came back here,” He said, “Admit it, you want me.”

Nedjem continued without hesitation. She huffed, “I could have any man I choose. Of any girth, weight, length. If I chose you, what would make you better than any of them?”

The answer wasn’t in the script. For a moment shame almost made Charles lose his edge. Still, Nedjem was right there in front of him, waiting for him, asking for him even.

“Fuck that,” Charles said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hands out of her defiant pose until she had a hand around his neck.

Nedjem had a look of mild shock as Charles pulled up her silken robe until he could pick her up with a hand on each waist and carry her over to the couch.

“Ah!” She chirped, first in mock fear and then with a playful laugh.

He laid dropped her on her back so she bounced on the bed, then straddled her open legs.

Nedjem looked him in the eyes.

He grabbed his manhood, leaned over her, and pressed into her.

She let out a small moan at the first contact, his length sinking into her. It was every bit as wonderful as he imagined. He was no virgin, he had many women over his years working for a porn studio, it all came with the career. But this moment, this was one he had been waiting for.

Everything about her was warm, soft, tight. Her robe was pulled up for the sake of the camera, the sight of his excitement slipping into her sending a shock of electricity through Charles as he began to thrust at a brisk pace.

He knew he had to be vigorous. Still, he wanted to enjoy every moment of it. He wanted her to enjoy every moment of it. Charles used the arm of the couch behind her head as leverage, pressing deep into Nedjem with every thrust, thrusting harder until the stoic woman could no longer lay there with a commanding look on her face.

It began with small huffs with each thrust, and then turned into a moan out of rhythm with the rest. Then Nedjem let out a cry of joy that almost ended Charles then and there. Her face was locked in a blush as she looked away from him.

“Stop now,” She said, and Charles backed away.

He looked to the camera, but Nedjem wasn’t in trouble, she was just taking charge.

She pushed him to a laying position before she straddled him. She held him at the base of his excitement, teased it across her groin, then slid down on his length while letting out another soft moan.

As she started to grind against him, the cameras moved behind her, catching every moment of her tight bottom sliding up and down, this way and that. Charles pulled her robes off of her, letting her breast fly free as she really began to gain pace.

It was like his manhood was locked in the greatest sensation, replayed over and over with each twirl of Nedjem’s hips. She knew it too, her eyes watching him as he tried to fight the rising climax within him.

They were both sweating, moaning, enjoying every sensation. Charles knew he didn’t have long left. He would finish, and the crowning achievement of his life would be over.

So he reached up and grabbed Nedjem.

“Huh?” She said in genuine surprise.

He rolled them over again, Nedjem on her back. He pinned her down, gaining speed again, thrusting harder, pushing deeper.

Charles could feel himself swelling, and Nedjem knew what was coming as well.

“Yes,” She said, “Yes, keep going, harder!”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned down and kissed Nedjem, and as their lips parted she let out a world shaking moan.

Charles kept going, but he took a moment to look up.

The room, all of them, the crew, it was like they were standing still. Not at attention, but they were in the middle of their tasks, cameras out, Gary in the middle of motioning to someone, men walking in the background, and they were all frozen.

Nedjem grabbed Charles around the neck, and pulled him back in close for another kiss.

“This is my gift,” She whispered, “To my chosen one. This will last as long as we wish.”

The air felt heavy, like trying to run in water. Charles wanted to panic, but with Nedjem there, he couldn’t. Instead, he went back to what he always wanted, his moment with his mistress.

Without worrying about the camera, he thought about her. He tweaked her nipples, sucked on her neck, kissed her until she gasped for breath. She squeezed his back, her legs locked behind him, she bit his ear.

It felt like forever, a moment that went on for eternity, his body touched by a goddess, his erection dipped in her divine gift.

It didn’t last though. Eventually, even the magic of a mummy couldn’t hold back the overwhelming force of his climax.

He tried to hold back, tried to extend it, but when all was set in motion all he could do was hold her closer.

“Oh god, here it comes,” He groaned.

Nedjem’s eyes went wide as the first pulse entered her.

“Give me all of it,” She hissed as he continued to fill her with jet after jet, thrust after thrust.

Then, it was over, and time returned to normal around them.

Nedjem pulled him in close as he collapsed.

“I never want to leave your side,” Charles whispered.

“Perfect.” She replied.

“Cut!” Gary shouted, walking onto the set, “I think we can make it work.”