Mary Janice Davidson, Michele Bardsley, Chris Tanglen - Lighthearted Lust (Ellora's Cave)

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Mary Janice Davidson, Michele Bardsley, Chris Tanglen - Lighthearted Lust (Ellora's Cave) Page 12

by james


  Poof. He disappeared.

  Selena stared at the golden dick in Kira’s hands then looked at her friend.

  “Holy shit.” “Yeah.” Kira pushed the black button. Smenkare formed almost immediately. He

  looked relieved and Kira wondered if he’d thought she would leave him in the vibrator. He got dressed then resumed his seat between the two women. Silence settled as thick and heavy as a wool blanket. After a few awkward seconds ticked by, Selena rose from the couch and entered the kitchen. “What are you doing?” asked Kira.

  “Making coffee. We’re getting undrunk. Either we were all hallucinating that your boyfriend is a part-time vibrator or there’s some very weird shit going on and I want to know what it is.”

  Selena forced everyone to take some ibuprofen, down two glasses of water, and load up on coffee. “I’m starting to feel sober, but my stomach feels like I ate a metal sandwich,” said Kira. “Tequila kills.” “Nice epitaph. Keep drinking the java, honey.” Selena turned to Smenkare. “It’s time for you to spill your guts.” “How would you propose I do that?”

  “I don’t mean literally. Tell us about the curse. Why are you stuck in that damned thing?”

  Smenkare looked at Kira. How would she feel about him if she knew his sins? She cared for him like no other had before, not even Mentari, who’d loved her goddess more than him. “Do you wish to know, mistress?” he asked softly.

  She nodded, her gaze compassionate.

  “When I was a young prince at Amarna, I fell in love with a girl named Mentari. I wanted her to be my consort, but before I could bring her into the palace, Nefertiti sent me on a diplomatic mission to the Hittites. She hoped they would kill me, but I made peace with our enemies and lived as a son to their king.

  “Years passed. Then my sister’s letter arrived. Tutenkhamen had died and she needed me to come home. I left immediately and was ambushed before I could reach Thebes. I survived the attack, but arrived too late to save my sister.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Selena. “What does this have to do with being cursed as a sex slave?”

  “The only way for me to claim my rightful place was to marry a godswife of Amun and arrange a coup. I had the support of General Horemheb, but I needed

  more than my father’s blood in my veins to claim Egypt.”

  “Mentari was a godswife,” said Kira.

  “Yes. She loved Amun and Bast more than she loved me. She let me have her body, but her heart belonged to her gods. I wanted the throne and saw no other path but that which led to Ay’s death. I did not know what she asked of me…

  “She told me to meet her at Bast’s altar and there, she would give me her answer.” Smenkare bowed his head and took a deep breath. He could not face Kira. He did not want to see her revulsion at his shameful act. “When I arrived, I found her on the altar, the dagger she used for her ceremonies plunged into her heart.”

  “She killed herself? That was her answer?” Kira sounded outraged. “Bast made you a sex slave because one of her priestesses committed suicide? That’s fucking insane.”

  He dared to look at her and saw that she did not condemn him for his single­minded pursuit of power or selfish desire to wed Mentari to gain the throne. She was angry—for him.

  “You can’t condemn a man to three thousand years of sexual slavery because your priestess is a moron with a knife and death wish.”

  “Kira, you must still your tongue,” warned Smenkare. “Bast watches us. She will not tolerate insults.”

  “I wish I was still drunk,” said Selena, looking into her empty coffee mug. “This kind of shit is way beyond my ability to deal with it.”

  * * * * *

  Bast looked into the silvery glass and watched Smenkare tell his story. This was not the first time he’d told a mistress his tale of woe. In the beginning, he’d hoped his captor would free him or convince Bast to free him so that he could still claim Egypt.

  She stopped sending him to women in his homeland, but he didn’t lose hope.

  No. It took centuries for him to lose hope. To stop thinking about power and wealth and becoming god-like.

  She pursed her lips as she watched Smenkare caution his mistress not to insult her. She smiled. Smenkare felt differently about this mistress. They had been together a mere four days and he sought to protect her, to do as she wished not because he must, but because he wanted to please her.

  Oh, there had been others he had liked. Many women treated him well and wanted him for marriage and fatherhood. Some had asked, others had begged, and yet others had let him go. She wondered what Kira would choose to do.

  The woman had done what so many before her had done.

  She’d fallen in love with Smenkare.

  Bast lounged in her chaise and watched the drama unfold. Smenkare did not understand his punishment was not just about Mentari’s death. It was about his disrespect of the gods. Of losing his soul to ambition and greed. Of choosing the throne of Egypt over the love of his woman.

  He did not understand sacrifice.

  Smenkare’s sexual slavery was not just about him, but he’d been unable to see it any other way. Had he thought about how much joy he’d brought into the lives of women who had nothing for themselves? They doubted their beauty, their sexuality, their dreams until Smenkare arrived and showed them how to open their minds and their hearts. He made them feel beautiful and special and

  worthy.

  That was a gift, not a curse.

  “Bes.”

  The short, scruffy man entered her chambers.

  “I have a task for you. It must be done tomorrow morning.”

  Bes nodded his compliance and left.

  She looked at the glass and watched Kira tuck her friend onto the couch

  before retiring with Smenkare to her bedroom.

  “Enjoy him while you can,” Bast whispered.

  And smiled.

  * * * * *

  Smenkare woke Kira with a kiss. She blinked awake and looked at him.

  “You are beautiful.”

  “You are a liar.”

  He laughed and tapped her nose. “I do not lie, Kira.” He drew down the

  sheet to her waist and gazed at her nipples. Just his glance made them pucker and he felt male pride at her response. He loved her body, her passion, her quick wit. She made him feel whole again. Like a man with his woman instead of a slave with his mistress.

  He bent down and suckled one nipple. Then he suckled the other. He felt her hands slip through his hair and press him closer.

  “I intend to worship you,” he said, cupping a breast. He kissed the areola with slow, wet attention then swirled his tongue around the taut peak. He moved to her other breast and repeated the loving gestures.

  She wiggled impatiently beneath him.

  He grinned.

  His hand coasted down her thigh to her knee. His fingers traveled up again, stroking the outer lips of her pussy, her inner thigh, the sensitive area around her anus. He hovered over her clit then skipped touching it, pressing his palm against her quivering stomach.

  She groaned her frustration and her hands fisted in the sheets. “I thought you said worship, not torture.”

  He bent to kiss her stomach and stopped as a familiar tingling sensation washed over him. His breath caught in his throat. He sat up and clenched the covers as if they could anchor him to the spot. “No! It is not time.”

  Kira sensed his panic and sat up. “What’s wrong?”

  “My Kira.” He kissed her. Her lips felt soft, too soft. He was fading from her. But thirty days had not passed! What was Bast doing? She had never cut short his time with any woman.

  Tears pricked his eyes. He was leaving and he did not want to go. He took Kira’s hands and memorized the features of her lovely face. “The last words Mentari spoke to me were ‘It is wrong to ask for the sacrifice of my heart when you know nothing of what such a thing costs.’ I did not know what she

  meant…until now.”


  “Smenkare, your hands are—”

  “You are my queen, Kira.”

  Then he was gone.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “She will beg for you,” murmured Bast.

  Smenkare stared at the silver glass and watched Kira tear up her bedroom looking for him. She was crying and screaming. She feared for him. Feared that

  Bast had done something cruel. It broke his heart to see her so afraid.

  “Why did you take me?”

  Bast lounged on her chaise in her cat form. She wore nothing over her lightly

  furred breasts, but a white silk skirt covered her lower half. Well-shaped furred calves peeked out from a side slit.

  She looked as she always did—unconcerned and all-knowing.

  “I offer you freedom, Smenkare.”

  Freedom? To be his own man? His own master? To go where he wished and do as he pleased? His heart thudded in his chest. Bast had never offered him freedom. Never.

  Bast smiled. “You merely have to make a choice.”

  Foreboding lodged in his gut. He dared to look her in the eyes. “What choice?”

  “If I were to tell you that Kira would meet a man tonight who would love her, marry her, and give her children, what would you say?”

  NO! his heart cried. He could not bear the thought of another man touching

  her, wanting her…loving her.

  “Does your silence speak for you?”

  “I wish her happiness.”

  “Ah.” Bast rose and walked to him, her tail flicking under the skirt. “What if this man could give her happiness, Smenkare? I promise you that they would have a good life together. They will have a boy and a girl, a big house, and more than enough money.”

  “She deserves such a life.”

  “A choice then. I return to you Egypt to rule as pharaoh or I give Kira the life

  she deserves with a man who loves her.”

  “I don’t understand. If I choose Egypt…Kira will not have a happy life?”

  “She will not have true love. She will not have a husband, family, or financial security.”

  “And if I choose Kira’s happiness?”

  Bast’s eyes filled with empathy. She placed a paw on his shoulder. “Your time on this Earth will come to an end.”

  * * * * *

  Panic clawed at Kira. Smenkare was gone and so was the vibrator. She still had the box and the parchment, but those items did her little good. She didn’t understand the symbols. After she searched the bedroom, she threw on a robe and ran into the living room. She saw Selena sprawled on the couch and shook her awake.

  Selena opened one eye. “What the hell do you want?”

  “Smenkare is gone.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” She cradled her head. “I feel like someone tap­danced on my skull.”

  “Smenkare!” yelled Kira. “The man who sang bad Karaoke last night. The

  man who lives in a vibrator. The man I—” She froze.

  She loved him.

  It shouldn’t be possible to love a man she’d only known four days.

  No, not possible. But true. She felt it all the way through, from her skin to her

  bones.

  She loved him.

  “God. I thought I dreamed that whole genie-in-a-vibrator thing.” Selena sat

  up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

  “Bast took him. We have to get dressed and go to The Lust Bastion.”

  “Whoa, Kira. You can’t charge into a porn shop and demand your sex slave. Especially if this chick Bast really is a mystical being.” Selena frowned. “I can’t believe I said ‘mystical being.’ I mean, if I hadn’t seen what I saw last night, I wouldn’t be saying what I’m saying.”

  “How about you zip those lips and get your ass moving?” Kira marched toward the bedroom. “We’ve gotta save Smenkare.”

  She’d gone three strides when someone knocked on the door. Smenkare! Maybe she’d imagined his fading away, maybe he went for donuts or coffee or condoms. She whirled around and rushed to the door, flinging it open.

  The scruffy little man she’d seen at The Lust Bastion stood there. He bowed. “Bast requests the return of her box and its contents,” he said in a deep, formal voice.

  “That’s my box,” said Kira, irately. “And my vibrator and my Smenkare. Go tell Bast to return my property.” She slammed the door, turned around, and screamed. The little man stood in front of her, his expression wavering on friendly.

  “I understand your distress,” he replied. “But Bast will not be denied.”

  Selena got up and rounded the couch. “Look, short stuff, we’re not giving Bast a damned thing.” She poked him in the forehead. “Got it?”

  His eyes blazed with interest and he drew closer to Selena. “I would not

  need to get on my knees to lick your pussy.”

  “That’s true. And I just have to extend my leg to kick your little balls.”

  “I want to see Bast,” said Kira. “Now.”

  The man grinned. “As you wish.”

  One eye-blink later, Kira found herself in Bast’s purple-fabric-draped office,

  sitting at the little wooden table. In her hands, she held the white box.

  “Right on time.”

  Bast sat across from her drinking tea. She’d discarded her human face and

  wore the cat features of her Egyptian heritage.

  “The box, please.”

  “No.” Kira clutched it.

  The goddess rolled her eyes. She put down her cup and snapped her fingers. The box disappeared.

  The sudden loss of her only connection to Smenkare drove spikes of fear into her heart. “Why didn’t you do that at my house?”

  “I needed you here.”

  “Why?”

  Bast’s smile was secretive, but she didn’t answer. She merely sipped her tea.

  Her gaze assessed Kira’s robe and tousled hair. “You enjoyed him.”

  “It hasn’t been thirty days.”

  “He fulfilled your every desire.”

  “I want him back.”

  Bast waved a furry paw over the table. Two $100 bills and one $50 appeared

  next to Kira’s elbow. “Money-back guarantee.”

  Kira flung the money onto the floor. “I don’t want the money. I want Smenkare.”

  “You and the hundreds of women before you.” Bast sighed. “I am sorry he

  was unable to fulfill the full month.”

  “Did he finally win his freedom?”

  “In a way.”

  She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “You would let him die?”

  Bast shrugged. “He is a slave. Nothing more.”

  “He is pharaoh!” Tears gathered in Kira’s eyes, an ache crowding her heart.

  “He is the man who holds my heart, who rules my life.”

  “You love him.”

  “Yes, damn it. How do you plan to free him? By letting him die?”

  “No,” said Bast. “I would not kill him. He would die because he should have

  died more than three thousand years ago.” “B—but you prolonged his life! Made him a slave in that damned vibrator.” Bast pursed her lips, her cat eyes uncharacteristically sympathetic. “The gods

  cannot change the cycle of life. We can twist the rules, of course, but life begins and ends for all mortals. Always.” “Make him immortal.”

  “That is a rare privilege, Kira, and requires the agreement from a council of gods. We have not granted such a thing since Cupid begged for the life of Psyche.”

  “I will beg for Smenkare.”

  Bast shook her head. “Only a god may plead the case.”

  “Then you—”

  She laughed. “I imprisoned him for three millennia because he took the life

  of my priestess. I cannot forgive him for that.” “She committed suicide,” said Kira, a tremor in her voice. “He might as well have pierced her breast with his own sword. It would


  have been kinder.” “Please, Bast!” “No.” Bast turned from the counter. “I am glad Smenkare has learned to

  love. That he regrets the life that led to his punishment. That he found you. But I will not advocate his immortality.” Tears coursed down Kira’s cheeks. “Then what can I do?” “If I free him, his life will end, but if he stays a sex slave…” Understanding flooded Kira. “He will live forever.” Bast stroked her hair, tucking an errant strand behind Kira’s ear. “If you want him to live, you must let him go.”

  * * * * *

  “Todd Groman?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  The beautiful woman sat next to him on the barstool. He’d been drinking

  steadily since noon. After Kira’s little stunt yesterday, he’d been fired and Nanette had dumped him. He felt like cold shit on a hot day. His gaze skittered over the buxom brunette’s curves. She wore a body-hugging white halter-top

  dress. Gold hoops dangled from her ears. She had a heart-shaped face with big green eyes and suck-my-dick lips.

  Maybe his luck was changing.

  “How’d you know my name?”

  “The bartender.” Her smile was soft. “You’re a handsome man.” Her fingers stroked his arm. “And I’m a lonely girl.”

  Todd straightened. If he knew anything, it was the fuck-me glance perfected by horny women. This sweet little bitch wanted him. “What’s your name?”

  “Mentari.”

  “That’s unusual. I like it.”

  “Wanna get a table in the corner?”

  The bar was dark, seedy, and empty other than for a few losers swilling beer at the bar and watching CNN. In the far corner, past the pool tables and dart stations were a few ratty booths. The farthest one away was darker than the rest because the overhead light had burned out. Todd led Mentari to the booth and scooted in after her. He’d used this one before. He made sure, every so often, that the bulb remained broken.

  “So Mentari—”

  She kissed him, her hand trailing across his crotch. Man, she wasted no time. He untucked her breasts from the halter-top dress and played with them while she unzipped his jeans and pulled out his penis. She encircled it and stroked it until he went from half-mast to full hard-on. She released his mouth, slithered on

 

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