© Copyright 2016 - Lobo De la Sombra - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-F; F+/f+; mummies; unwrap; transform; bodyswap; trapped; encased; display; mc; enslave; lesb; oral; sex; climax; cons/nc; X
Part 2: Handmaidens
Kendell slammed the phone down with a muttered curse. Damn airlines! And damn the chronic instability of the area! She'd tried every available airline, and not one could sell her a direct ticket home. Nothing, it seemed, was flying in or out.
Silently, she stared at the phone. What was it the man in her dream said? Someone she knew well taking Ankhesenamun's place? Her face paled. Gina! She had to get home, no matter what!
Kendell picked up the phone. Well, she thought, if I can't get a direct flight, maybe an indirect one. I wonder if Mo still has that old seaplane of his. Her fingers dialed the number without need for thought, her mind occupied by a single thought:
'Hang in there, Gina, I'm on my way'.
If Gina could have heard those words, they would have eased her mind a lot. Trapped in her prison of tightly wound cloth strips, unable to move, see or speak, she had long since given up on any struggle for freedom. Now it was her mind that struggled, searching for an answer, any answer, to how she'd wound up like this. Trapped in the still living body of an ancient priestess, wrapped and on display in the very museum where she worked. It was like something straight out of a movie, but she knew it was all too real. The only remaining question was, what was her body doing right now?
"Gina, this is nuts. I know you love this ancient history stuff, but why drag me down here with you?"
The woman she called Gina smiled. "Relax, Monique, there's a good reason for this. We're thinking about doing a promotional bit about our newest exhibit, and I thought a photo shoot with them in the background would be a great idea. And since you're one of the hottest models around, not to mention a friend, who else would I ask?"
"A shoot? With these old things?" Monique frowned. "Wouldn't it work better with one of those goth type models?"
Again a smile. "Believe me, dear, you're perfect for the job. And I have a surprise for you." Steady hands unwrapped cloth from one of the figures, and soon Monique found herself staring into the memorizing gaze of dark eyes. Within seconds, it was done, the woman who'd once been Monique turning to bow to her companion.
"High Priestess, how may I serve?"
"I am Gina now, as you are Monique."
"Yes, High...... yes, Gina."
"Very good. It was fortunate that this one had a friend suitable for use. Now we must search for three more, so that your sisters may once more be free. But first...."
Writhing within the bindings that now imprisoned her, struggling to force words past the cloth filling her mouth, Monique watched with wide eyes as the woman she'd thought was Gina stripped off her clothing. Her own body followed suit, two naked female bodies sinking to the floor, locked in passionate embrace.
As a model, Monique had long since decided she'd seen everything. Now, however, she could only stare as these two women did things to each other that she'd never even dreamed of, their bodies curling around each other and joining in ways she wasn't sure was humanly possible. For what seemed hours, the two writhed together, sounds of passion and then fulfillment filling the air. Finally, the two rose, and Monique saw her own body turn toward her, a strip of cloth in her hand. Quickly, the cloth was wrapped around her head, and Monique's world went dark.
"Does this thing even fly still?" Staring at the old seaplane, Kendell had serious doubts. Her friend Mo, however, laughed at the question.
"Of course she flies, my friend," he said jovially. "Not so fast, perhaps, and not so far as one of your big jets, but she will get you where you need to be. In time."
"Time," Kendell said shortly, "is one thing I may not have a lot of." As she spoke, she seemed to hear a voice inside her head, telling her there were now three to go. Three? That meant Ankhesenamun had freed one of her four handmaidens. The thought steeled Kendell's determination. Squaring her shoulders, she turned toward the plane.
"Alright, Mo," she said, stepping aboard, "let's get this thing in the air."
The pair's next selection came about almost by accident. After leaving the museum, the two had decided to find a meal. By now, their agile minds had accepted their new identities, so it was Gina and Monique who sat in the small diner, watching with appreciation the waitress approaching them.
"So, ladies, what would you like to eat?"
The waitress stared, surprised by such a direct approach. She'd never thought about spending time with a woman, but there was something about these two that made her feel almost wanton. "I don't get off work till midnight," she said, surprised that she'd offered even that much.
"In that case, I guess we'll have to settle for food for now. Tell me, do you have a name?"
"Sabrina, but you can call me Bree. All my friends do."
One of the women smiled. "Oh," she said, "I do hope we can be friends."
"Finally!" Smiling for the first time in what seemed forever, Kendell cradled the phone's handset. "I thought I'd never get a flight home".
The seaplane journey had seemed to take forever, but she'd finally found an airport where she could get a ticket home. She had no earthly idea what to do once she got there, but she was determined to try.
Turning away from the phone, the words, two more, sprang into her mind. Stiffening, she walked faster. If Ankhesenamun had freed a second handmaiden, time was definitely running out, and she hadn't even made it home yet. At this rate, she thought desperately, it would be over before she had a chance to figure things out.
Not if I can help it, she told herself sternly. Steeling her nerves, she marched toward the boarding area as if entering a battlefield.
This time, it was three women who walked arm in arm from the museum. Behind them, a frantic Bree struggled helplessly. She couldn't believe what she'd seen before her eyes were covered: three women wrapping around each other almost like snakes coiling. The fact that one of those women looked exactly like her terrified her. How could this be happening? her mind cried, louder than the muffled sobs that barely emerged from her packed mouth.
Outside, the three women stood together. "Only two more," said one. "Then we can reclaim out true identities."
"But not quite yet," said another, smiling. "For now, let us return to my new home. I believe we are about to have a most important visitor."
She's got to be here, Kendell thought, waiting impatiently for the elevator doors to open. She's got to be here, and she's got to be alright. As soon as the doors parted, she nearly ran down the hall, finger stabbing at the doorbell to Gina's apartment. Inside, she heard only silence, but within seconds, the door opened.
"Thank God!" Almost frantic with relief, Kendell dashed into the apartment, hearing the door close behind her. "Gina," she said, turning, "you've got to get out of here. There's something very wrong here, and I think you're....." As she caught sight of the figure behind her, Kendell's voice faltered. "Gina?"
The woman smiled. "Not quite," she said softly. Stunned, Kendell tried to turn away, only to find herself unable to move. Frozen, she stared into the eyes of the woman before her.
"You," the woman said, "are Kendell. Gina told me so much about you. It was you who freed us from our prison, made our release possible. For that, I will reward you well. You may serve as my personal slave, and I shall teach you the wonders of Qatisa. Now, remove your clothing."
Kendell began an angry retort, only to be shocked to hear her own voice say, "Yes, Mistress." Even more shocking, her fingers began plucking at her clothing, in spite of her increasingly desperate attempts to stop them. Within seconds, she stood naked. Hearing a second command, her body turned and walked into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed with two naked women who watched her silently. Joined by the third, Kendell's body was soon submerged beneath female flesh, her body helplessly tormented by pleasures greater than she'd ever imagined.
"Enjoy, my slave," she heard, the words nearly lost in the billowing swirl of pleasure that engulfed her. "Learn the rewards of serving well. And pray you never need learn the punishment for failure."
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