The Cleopatra Plot 2

Posted by Barbanne on November 18, 1999 at 14:51:43:


The next morning I entered the cabin where the previous evening I had stripped the unconscious body of Petra, (I shall call the Queen Goddess by that name from now on), and had tucked her into clean cotton sheets. I don't know what Mitrius gave her but it sure knocked her for a loopy and she was just limped right out. I was tempted to taste of the delights of the helpless body of the most gorgeous woman in the world but restrained myself. (reluctantly)
As I entered the room, I saw she was awake and peering at me from beneath lush eyelashes as she watched my every move. I came to the bedside and smiled down. Suddenly, she sat upright exposing to my view a naked torso that made me feel weak kneed. Not a good thing as she also attacked me, pummelling my upper body with clenched fists.
"Why am I not dead. Why am I not dead. Without Antony life means nothing to me."
She repeated this over and over, all the while bashing into my modest boobies. It didn't hurt that much as she was too distraught to do much damage and eventually she put her arms around me and dragged me on top of her and sobbed and sobbed into my cotton tunic. This lasted about a half hour by which time she was exhausted and cried out and I was saturated. I lay with her and gentled and carressed her and she drifted into sleep.
Later she woke and drowsy from the effects of the drug, her lips sought out mine. I kissed her and my hand wandered onto those magnificently tear drop shaped breasts and I found her large brown nipples thrusting into the cup of my hand. I carressed her and she asked me in a whisper were her children, Caesarian and his three siblings still alive. I told her that I believed they were all safely en route to India, and would return when Octavius left Egypt, and would then be free to rejoin her. This seemed to satisfy her and she told me in a breathlessly sad voice of her love for Antony despite his weaknesses and shortcomings. We cried together for his spirit and then she kissed me some more and seemed much strengthened by my presence and what I had told her. She rose and dressed in a simple cotton shift and her blinding beauty transcended the attire and glowing with regality, she went out onto the deck. I followed gratefully, anxious to dry my sodden garment in the sun's warming rays. The boatmen gazed at their queen with the adoration that had followed her always. They looked at me too. Sorta with lust rather than anything else.
We stopped opposite the city of Thebes and Mitrius informed us that he, I and Petra were to visit the Valley of the Kings and in particular the tomb of Ptolemaeus the something or other where the golden sword of Judaea was reportedly ensconced with the dead king and if we could recover it and if Petra could possess it, she would be well nigh invincible.
Even more fantastic, when we were safely tied up, three of the most spectacular fighting women I had ever laid eyes on, came aboard. They were Vickina, Lisatia and Chrisinus and with their help we would be unstoppable. Petra, tall and surrounded by a halo of early morning sunlight looked as one with these gorgeously caparisoned women, resplendent in their leather armour. I as a dedicated, non warring, religiously cowardly, good time girl, felt greatly relieved to have these sisters on board.
Lisatia was small and compact but sensationally built. She was clad in the stripped leather fighting armour, typical of soldiers of the Roman and Egyptian empires. Her upper body was clad in a moulded breastplate with shoulder protectors and she wore a short leather skirt and sandals and shin protectors. Under her armour she had on a brief white tunic piped in regal gold. She carried a helmet adorned with a feathered plume. She was very pretty and of that indeterminate maturity which makes certain women so fascinating to men. Vickina was of a similar age and similarly attired. She was taller than Lisatia and had lovely legs, most of which her brief costume revealed. She was another stunner and I felt my knees grow progressively more fluid as these so, so strong warrior women approached. Chrisinus was much younger and absolutely gorgeous. Her youthful body clad in that fighting gear made her a walking wet dream for men. (and the occasional slave girl) My heart was doing flip flops as I greedily watched her. I could see she had the distant gaze of one who constantly searches for the truths that await the honest seeker and I felt a bond of connection and love for her, with not a little lust thrown in.
These women bowed briefly before Petra and I could see that, although she wore only a simple shift, her queenship shone from every pore of her lusciously fabulous body. They acknowledged me. I had given in to the habits of my station and wore a long silken tunic with golden (fake) armlets and anklets and had combed out my long hair and coated my face in make up. I realised I looked to be the whore I was.
Mitrius welcomed the warrior women and Petra looked enigmatically at them and then at Mitrius's command we set out for the Valley of the Kings.
We tramped over dusty roads through the fabled city of Thebes and I found that my gilt sandals with the elevated heels were most unsuitable as I stumbled and staggered and cursed aloud as I hobbled feebly in the rear of this column of determined ladies. We soon came to the valley in the western part of the city and Mitrius led us directly to the low stone opening that marked the entry to the tomb of old King Ptolomaeus the umpteenth. Two more gorgeous women, teenagers Virginius and Vestalis, both about eighteen, both blonde and both deliciously ripe and virginal awaited. They were the handmaidens of the dead guy and as such were charged with the maintenance of his tomb. These handmaidens were changed regularly as only untouched women between the ages of sixteen and nineteen could have this post and then they moved on, making way for others. It was a great honour to serve the dead in this fashion and girls vied for the jobs, or at least their families did. I wondered at how much cleaning they'd have to do after a battered old scrubber of twenty three who was about a million and a half fucks removed from her virginity had visited.
Virginius and Vestalis welcomed us and we all trooped inside.
It was immediately dark as pitch and cold and dankly smelly. Torches guttered in sconces on the wall and the whole place looked eerie and scarey.
A door led to a second chamber and then more doors led to the final resting place of the old dude. Mitrius stopped and looked at us.
"Barbanne, these young women," he gestured at V and V, will show you inside and you must bring us the sword."
"Me?" Wavery, quavery, reflecting the fact that his suggestion scared me shitless.
"Yes you."
"Why me?" Whiney and true to form.
"Only a despoiled woman can retrieve the sword."
I looked at Lisatia, Vickina and Chrisinus......yes and Petra.
"Do you mean to tell me that I'm the only one who............................."
"You are the most despoiled.", he said rolling his eyes in disgust. Then he muttered "Celtic idiot."
The two V's led me through the door into a room where the mummies of the late king's wife and slaves lay amongst vessels filled with stuff to speed him on his way to the underworld. Elaborate hieroglyphics covered the walls and told of his greatness. Virginius had bought a torch to light our way and she passed this to Vestalis while she closed the door behind us and crossing the room, operated a lever that opened the inner chamber door. We entered the burial chamber of the king. His sarcophagus was gold, solid bloody gold, and beautifully enriched with carvings and art works. I thought of how much it would fetch in the markets and what a gal could do with the shekels it bought. Vestalis pushed me forward and there was the sword, resting on a stone ledge. I crossed and picked it up and the door behind us closed.
I looked back. The teens were looking scared and uncertain.
Virginius went to the door and tried to operate a lever.
Nothing happened.
I stood there clutching the sword.
A mighty hissing noise and sort of dusty steam poured from beneath the lid of the sarcophagus. Then it slid sideways and there was old whatsisname, all mummified and with rotting bindings hanging down and a stench of absolute decay and death filled the room as, with remarkable alacrity for a guy who'd been dead before my ancestors reached the Emerald Isle, the mummy clambered from his tomb and blundered sideways towards where Virginius and Vestalis stood frozen in fear. I had sort of ducked down hoping he wouldn't really spot me. He reached out a bony, bandaged hand and clutched Virginius's throat in his long fingers and squeezed. I heard the crackling noises and saw the fingers disappear into the poor gal's soft white skin until they met in the middle. She went "Ooooow" and her hands thrashed at the air and her eyes bugged out and then rolled back and her mouth dropped open and drooled spittle and then a thin stream of blood and her little feet kicked back and forth. Then she limped out and I knew she was dead. The thing dropped her and she fell lifeless and slumped onto the floor and her poor body wet itself. Before she were even still, its other hand grasped Vestalis by her pretty little neck and cruncho! she was throttled too. She whanged around a lot more in a sort of dying spasm and the thing peered into her starey dead eyes as if to say "Aren't you dead yet?" Then it dropped her corpse on top of Virginius and turned to me.
I sprinted for the door and was almost past it when that icky claw grabbed the back of my dress and Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipppppppppppppp............ the whole thing tore into two and naked except for knickers and those fucking shoes I leapt at the door.
It wouldn't open.
The bloody creature was clawing at my bum. I turned and belted it with the sword and it shrieked and black, stinking, ancient blood gooped out and it reeled back and the door opened and through I went. I looked back. The torch was sputtering on the floor, the two teens lay dead in a heap and the monster was geysering across his coffin. I rammed the lever and the door closed.
I was in the dark. I felt around the walls, bladder quivering and found the outer door. I hammered with the pommel of the sword on the door and it slowly opened and there were Mitrius and the four ladies. I tottered out, handed Mitrius the sword, smiled at the others who were gazing puzzled at my attire of high heels and a panty thong, and passed out.

I came too back on the boat.
We were underway once more. I lay on a bunk bed and someone had removed my shoes leaving me as near naked as possible and covered only by a thin sheet. I could see the warrior ladies outside on the deck, standing watching the river as it unfolded behind us. Petra, still clad in the shift she had worn to the tomb stood looking down at me.
"Well Barbanne! The tomb was unable to be unsealed. You must tell us what happened in there and where the two temple maidens went. How you managed to become naked will be interesting also, although I must profess that I have never known a lass with such a propensity for losing her clothes as you." She smiled.
"In good time," I muttered, "where now?"
"Now that I have the sword of Judaea we head up river to the cool mountain highland and the fabled riches of Solomon and Sheba in the kingdom of Zim-Ba-Bwe." She grinned at me conspiratorially.
"But first we must pass through the arena of the warrior women of Luxor."