Gromet's PlazaMummification Stories

9 to 5

by Darkraptor1

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© Copyright 2011 - Darkraptor1 - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF+/mf; machine; shackles; wrap; bandages; sarcophagi; display; reluct/cons; X

My name is Patty. I’m a security guard at the local museum, and this is what I do for a living.

Every morning I wake up at seven and take a shower. Breakfast is next, followed by getting dressed. Slacks, shirt, uniform. I get in the car and drive to work, clock in, and get my gear. Then, at nine, I start my rounds, going through the museum a floor at a time.

At five, I help close the building and head home. Dinner, a movie, whatever I feel like doing at the time, and then to bed at ten.

I’ve been doing this for ten years. Sounds boring, but it’s not. Why?

I’m in charge of the two living mummies interred here.


It all started ten years ago. Young couple, reckless, high on drugs, bored and aimless, breaks into the museum and goes on a rampage, destroying a lot of priceless artifacts, but the worst damage is to two Royal Egyptian mummies, given as a gift from the Egyptian government. No chance of repairing them, or even salvaging what little remains.

The two are caught, of course, and arrested. Turns out they already have a criminal record, so with the three strikes law, they’re sentenced to life imprisonment without parole.

Normally they’d be sent to prison, but the judge decides to try and do something differently. The two, clearly aimless and a burden to society, will instead serve their sentence by doing service to society: They will replace the mummies they destroyed.

They were taken to the museum in chains, and that was the last time they’ll ever see the outside world. Once there, a special jail cell was built into the basement, bare, save for two bunks.

A very rare machine was brought in; a special mummification device, recently created for the funerary industry, designed for those who want to preserve their dead bodies the ancient Egyptian way. Only it was to be used on the two.

And that’s where I came in… a special hire, put in charge of the two prisoners.


While I’m a security guard, my primary task is to monitor, prepare, and take care of the prisoners. Every morning when I come in, I unlock their cell and un-strap the belts holding them to their bunks.

They are removed from their heavy duty sleep sacks and shackled down tightly at the wrist and ankles, then escorted to the lavatory to relieve themselves.

Once that’s complete, it’s off to the preparation room. Here, we make sure the two are completely drained of wastes, then they are strapped into the machine, cuffs going around the wrists and ankles. The door is closed, and five minutes later, it opens, revealing a fresh, tightly wrapped mummy. Then we take him (or her, depending on who goes in first) out, and wrap the other one.

Once both have been mummified, it’s onto the stretchers, and then out onto the floor, where they are put in the sarcophagus’s of the royal mummies they destroyed. Then the Plexiglas containers surrounding said sarcophagi is closed and locked, sealing them in for the day.

And that’s it, really. While a guard of the entire museum, it’s my main job to watch over the two, to make sure they’re kept safe from harm. It’s no secret that they’re not authentic mummies, and a good portion of our visitors come by just to see them.

It’s almost like a freak show, really. The crowds gather around the Plexiglas, and gape at the two inside, watching as they lie in state, occasionally shifting and squirming to try and get comfortable.

For the most part, the visitors are pleasant, only occasionally taunting the two, or mocking them. Very rarely do they actually try to hurt them; those are usually the history enthusiasts, pissed at missing their chance to view authentic pieces of history. When they try, I step in with the other guards to lead them away.

At the end of the day, when the crowds leave, we unlock the containers and pull the two out. They’re carried to the basement and unwrapped, which is far easier then wrapping them up, as we simply cut the bandages away.

After being shackled and being given something to eat, the two are taken out for a walk, and an hour of exercise. While they may be mummies and lie in sarcophagus’s for the rest of their lives, we still have to keep them healthy. After all, in some ways, they’re bringing in more guests (and money) then the real mummies ever did.

Once the exercise is done, the two are returned to their cell, put in their sleep sacks, gagged, and strapped to the bunks. The lights are turned out, and we all go home.

And that’s a typical day.


Sometimes I get asked by a curious guest, what it’s like being in charge of the two. They think the job gets really boring after a while, and in some ways it is.

But the most interesting part of working at this job is getting to know the two. After ten years, jailer and jailed can’t help but build a relationship. A strange one, but a relationship nonetheless.

At first, everything was strictly business between the three of us. I was the jailer, in charge of keeping them locked up and secure. They were to follow orders and obey the rules, or suffer further punishment. And for a while it worked out. There were some moments where they broke rules, testing to see how far they could go. A few days of strict, twenty four hour bondage got them under control, but in retrospect, we were merely testing each other.

But, as is human nature, I gradually wanted to learn more about the couple, to try and understand them. Slowly, bit by bit, we began to chat, talking while the two were being shackled, or before being mummified, or heading to and from their cell. They had both come from dysfunctional families, both looking for some meaning and purpose, or any type of excitement in their lives.

Wild animals, so to speak, without training to guide them.

In a way, I felt sorry for them. They wanted more from life, and now they were going to spend the rest of theirs in this museum.

It was obviously too late to save them from their fates, but I got the idea to try and make it a bit more comfortable… providing they followed the rules and remained model prisoners.

At first it wasn’t much. Turning the heat on a little bit in their cells, or padding the sarcophagus to make it more comfortable. After a year or so, I allowed them to wear body gloves under their wrappings each day if they wanted.

It may seem contradictory, or dumb, to “coddle” them as some may say, but I look at it this way: If you give prisoners a few creature comforts, they’ll be less likely to break the rules or rebel. Besides, these comforts are a privilege, and not a right, and can be revoked if they break the rules.

And so far, the privileges have worked. Since I started giving them out, there hasn’t been a single act of disobedience between the two. I think they don’t want to loose what few comforts they have.

But things haven’t been all rosy and easy. Occasionally, little problems come up; in cases where the fire alarm rings, we have to quickly unlock the two and evacuate them. If they’re wrapped, we have to carry them out, which is stressful for both of us, but especially for them, as complete, full body restraint doesn’t allow for walking.

Then there are days when the two are sick. Being the museum’s main attraction, we have to have mummies on display, sick or not. So sometimes, we get drafted, to temporarily take their place… including me.

That day was a strange one. While the gal was left in the cell all day due to having the flu, I got the experience the strange marvels of being mummified alive… stripping down, going to the bathroom, then getting into the machine. Feeling the shackles go around my ankles and wrists.

Then the doors closed, and the bandages came, wrapping around me while the machine forced my arms and legs into position. In a few minutes, I was wrapped up head to toe, and sealed tightly in the bandages, unable to do anything but wiggle, unable to even see, and only faintly hear.

It was such a bizarre feeling, being so helpless, even as my co-workers picked me up and placed me in one of the sarcophagi, and although they were far more gentle with me then the prisoners, there was no denying that I was a temporary prisoner.

The day went by tortuously slow. For all of it, I lay there, feeling the stone walls around me, unable to see anything through the wrappings that held my eyes shut. I could faintly hear guests moving around, but other then that, I had nothing to do but lie and be alone with my thoughts.

There was also the fact that I was horny for most of my internment, but being in public, I could do nothing to alleviate it… that, and my arms were very tightly wrapped across my chest.

Finally, after what felt like days, I felt myself being picked up and carried into the basement. Several scissor cuts later, and I was free. But as I got my triple overtime check (compensation for my unofficial duty), I realized how lucky I was; I could leave and go home. The couple could not, and they had to put up with the process every day for the rest of their lives (save holidays, where they would stay in their cell).

Thus, after experiencing what they have to go through, I realized just how rough their punishment was.

But, with experience comes compassion, and sympathy for others.

Thus, shortly afterwards, I began to put thin visor goggles over the couple’s eyes before they were wrapped, and connected them to a wireless camera mounted on my glasses. Even if they couldn’t move, I could at least grant them the gift of sight. On most days, I just wear the camera during my rounds (occasionally looking at the two, which I imagine would be a weird feeling, seeing themselves), but every other week or so, if they are obedient and model prisoners, I will leave the camera in front of the TV in the break room, letting them watch sitcoms, movies, or whatever else is on.

You may think it’s coddling, but after all these years, and knowing what my prisoners go through, and will go through, it’s small favors.


And that’s my job. A bit tedious, a bit repetitive, and maybe a bit old, but it’s never boring.

These two will be in my care for decades to come. I will jail them, and keep them under control while they serve their sentences.

Still, it’s not too bad. If they are on good behavior for the next ten years, I may occasionally equip them with vibrators during their stay in the sarcophagi. Because deep down… I do envy them, a little bit.

But those vibrators are still a decade away. Until then, it’s off to work everyday, to your standard nine to five job.

It is, after all, a living.


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