by james
“Selena?” Kira waved her hand in front of her friend’s eyes. She didn’t even blink.
“She is…” the man paused as if to search for a word, “frozen.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Smenkare.”
“What?”
“I am Smenkare.” He drew Kira away from Selena. “She is unharmed,
mistress. I will release her from the spell, if you wish. Did you want her to participate?”
Her mind clouded with confusion. “Participate?”
“In our lovemaking.”
“Hell, no.”
Kira allowed Smenkare to remove the curtain from her body. She couldn’t shake herself out of the sensual fog surrounding her. All she seemed to want was Smenkare’s hands on her breasts, his tongue in her mouth, and his cock in her
pussy. It seemed the most important thing in the world to have sex with him. Right now.
“I—I can’t do it in front of her,” she said, gesturing at her friend.
Smenkare led her into the bathroom and shut the door. Smenkare took up most of the space, making her small bathroom seem tiny. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. This wasn’t a fantasy. This was real.
Wasn’t it?
“Sssshhh, Kira. Do not think. Feel.”
Smenkare lowered his head to one plump breast and suckled the nipple. It hardened against his warm, wet mouth. Kira moaned as his tongue laved the sensitive flesh. The moan turned to a cry of outrage when he raised his head.
Her fantasy man chuckled. “Worry not, Kira. I merely seek to give the other attention, too.”
He cupped the breast still throbbing from his tongue and gently twisted the nipple. Kira gasped at the pleasure-pain this invoked. God, this guy was good. As he pinched the still-wet nipple with his thumb and forefinger, he wrapped his lips around the taut peak of the neglected breast and sucked hard, nipping the tip with his teeth.
She pressed closer to him, suddenly ravenous, needy. Her hands glided over his smooth chest. She felt the ridges of his stomach muscles, the firm skin of his thighs, and the roundness of his ass. One hand cupped his buttock, the other touched his cock pressed against her stomach. With one finger, she stroked it from base to tip. She encircled the head then slid her hand down its firm length.
If there was ever such a thing as a perfect penis, Smenkare owned it.
He released her breasts and looked at her. His gaze was so dark, it seemed like she was looking into a starless sky. “I like your hand on my cock,” he whispered. “I want your touch everywhere, my Kira.”
She swallowed at the rush of emotion clogging her throat. My Kira. As if she
belonged to him. As if he were claiming her.
As if she would never be alone again because Smenkare deigned it to be so.
His hands drifted down her rib cage to her hips. She slid her hand up and
down his cock, reveling in the smooth hard feel of it, grinning when, every time she reached the tip, it jerked against her palm.
“My Kira.”
She looked up. His expression was pained and his gaze held a shame that belied the confident strength he displayed. She didn’t understand the shame, but the pained expression was universally male and had one interpretation.
“What do you want?”
“Your mouth on my cock.”
Bingo.
“I want your mouth on my pussy,” she said. “Whatever will we do?”
He lifted her to the countertop and got to his knees. Kira scooted to the edge of the counter. She held on to the edge with one hand while using the other to thread through Smenkare’s hair. His tongue flicked against her clit and slid along the inner folds until he found the entrance to her pussy.
“Oh yes. Please. Right there.” She pressed him against her pussy, reeling from the intensity of the emotions ricocheting through her. No one had ever shown her the tenderness, the caring for her pleasure the way this man did. She no longer cared if he was real; she wanted him to stay with her always and make her feel this way all the time.
Smenkare’s tongue darted in and out of her, the strokes rough and fast. Without warning, his mouth moved to her clit and closed over it, sucking deep and hard. Just as an orgasm threatened to overwhelm her, he stopped.
She cried out in protest.
“When you come, my mistress, say my name.”
“Smenkare,” she whispered as the ache of unfulfillment settled between her thighs.
His head lowered and once again his mouth found her clit. He inserted two fingers into her pussy; the thrust of his fingers matched the thrusts of his tongue. The orgasm ripped through her, shattering every sense. “Smenkare!” she screamed. He didn’t stop the thrusts of his fingers or his tongue and seconds later, another orgasm built, released, and made her see the stars in the heavens.
Before she had fully recovered, Smenkare rose and placed himself between her legs. His gaze was all heat; never had she seen such fire in a man’s gaze. She glanced down at his cock, as hard and thick and luscious as she remembered. He cupped her breasts, pinching the turgid nipples. “Oh God. Do it again.”
He pinched them again and again and again until she was writhing toward him, ready and willing to take his cock inside her.
“Mistress,” he whispered, “May I choose my pleasure?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes.”
“Do you have lubricant and a condom?”
Kira blinked, the fog of sexual satisfaction temporarily lifting. She fumbled for one of the drawers next to the sink and extracted a new tube of KY gel, purchased for use with her new vibrator. The box of condoms had never been opened. Smenkare prevented her from closing the drawer. He reached inside and pulled out an object that looked like an oversized bullet.
“What is this?” He flashed her a wicked grin.
“I don’t know.” She’d never seen it before. The Great Smenkare was the only vibrator she’d ever owned. What was a teeny tiny one doing in her bathroom drawer?
“This,” said Smenkare, showing her the glossy white nub with symbols etched on it, “is pussy therapy.”
The symbols looked like the ones on Smenkare’s box. She reached for the bullet, but her lover put it aside. “Not yet.”
After Smenkare put on a rubber, he took the tube of KY, opened it, and squeezed the gel onto his penis. He rubbed it on with his hand, his eyes momentarily closing at his own touch. After he wiped his hand on a nearby towel, he took Kira from the counter and instructed her to kneel down, bend over, and hold onto the edge of the tub.
“You want me to do what?”
“I would never hurt you, mistress. It is my job to show you the ways of pleasure.” His gaze was dark, feral. Kira felt her pulse leap at the raw desire he showed to her. For her. She did as he asked, holding onto the tub and offering
him her ass. His arm snaked under her stomach and pulled her close to his penis.
“Relax,” he whispered.
A feeling of total relaxation washed over her. It was almost supernatural the way her body responded to his gentle command. She felt limp as a wet noodle, but Smenkare’s cock sure didn’t. He inserted the tip of his penis into the tight ring of her anus and moaned.
Kira clenched the edge of the tub, amazed that she enjoyed the feel of him entering her from behind. He withdrew and entered again, this time going further. Each time he re-entered her, his penis inched deeper still, until he was sheathed to his balls. Kira breathed hard, her knuckles white from gripping the tub. Her enjoyment of the sensations he created surprised her. Never in a million years would she have agreed to be taken this way, but this man, this beautiful man could have her any way he wanted.
Smenkare moved slowly, his gentle thrusts causing little discomfort. His gasps and moans sent arrows of desire through her. Her pussy was wet and aching and demanding some action. As if he could read her thoughts, Smenkare paused, reached around, and placed the white bullet against her clit. He whispered some words she didn’t understand and th
e thing pulsed to life. He slid it down and into her pussy. Smenkare whispered more mysterious words and it felt like the thing elongated inside her.
“Oh God.” She shuddered at the feel of double penetration. Nothing had ever felt so fucking good.
“Take it, Kira. Fulfill your pleasure.”
With a trembling hand, Kira reached underneath and took the vibrator. She was so wet it glided in and out of her pussy with ease. The vibrations were low, gentle, teasing.
As she found a rhythm, Smenkare started moving again, too. He grasped her hips and fucked her, moving a little faster each time, until he pounded into her. The sound of his hips smacking her ass turned her on even more.
She moaned at the building pleasure. “Smenkare…” She screamed when the orgasm rocked her to the core. She spasmed hard against the vibrator, warm come dripped down her thighs, and still she felt the orgasm shuddering through her. The vibrator fell from her hand and she clutched the tub for dear life.
Before she had taken another breath, Smenkare pressed the vibrator against her clit.
“No, I can’t—”
But she could. Another orgasm rolled over her almost immediately, then she heard Smenkare’s ragged cry of release. He pressed so far into her she felt his balls against her pussy and the pulsing of his cock inside her.
Smenkare kissed the center of her spine, withdrew, disposed of the condom, and helped her rise. Her hands felt cramped from clenching the tub, her body sore from Smenkare’s attentions, and her ass was feeling kinda weird, too. Her lover turned on the shower and stepped inside with her.
They didn’t speak. He washed her from head to foot, leaving no skin untouched, no tender spot unsoothed. Then he shampooed her hair, rinsed it, and, after a quick wash of himself, led her out of the tub and gently dried her with a towel.
She’d never felt this way before. Never felt so worshipped. So…loved. No. This wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. But she could pretend making love with Smenkare was a forever thing instead of I’m-gonna-wake-up-in-an-institution-tomorrow thing.
CHAPTER THREE
Sometime later, Kira awoke in her bed, tucked into her covers. A glance at the digital clock revealed it was noon. She felt a little sore and a lot relaxed, and really confused. What had happened last night? This morning? Her memories were like a puzzle missing some pieces. Nothing quite fit together.
Her fantasy lover. Smenkare. She felt all warm and toasty just thinking about him, the gorgeous man who’d given her such pleasure.
Wait.
The Great Smenkare. Her vibrator. Blinking, she sat up and felt around the covers until her hands touch something long and hard. Digging under the blanket, she withdrew her $250 sex toy. She just knew there was something she needed to remember, but for the life of her, she couldn’t. Her body felt great, but her mind was frazzled. Maybe she just needed a cup of coffee and attacking some mundane tasks, like cleaning the oven, to feel normal again.
She hugged the vibrator then kissed its tip. “Thank you,” she whispered, somehow knowing she should be grateful to it.
* * * * *
“Why did you make her forget?” Bast stood in her office at The Lust Bastion and peered into her looking glass. She watched Kira leave her bedroom to take a shower.
“She was frightened. And she will remember soon enough. I scrambled her memories, not erased them.”
“You have never used the powers I gave you to help your mistresses forget. You took pleasure in their fright and you enjoyed coaxing them into sex.”
“She is different.”
“How?”
Smenkare shrugged. “I do not know how, only that she is.”
Bast didn’t allow Smenkare to see her smile of satisfaction. Finally, he had found what she meant for him to find. It had only taken three thousand years to get the message through his thick skull.
“And what did you think of your last mistress?”
“She was a bitch.”
“Indeed, she was,” Bast agreed. “And if you think to attempt to escape my punishment again, as you did with that virgin who begged for your life, I will
only send you to women whose pleasure is derived from the pain they inflict on you.”
“Have I not been punished enough?”
“No.” Bast moved from the looking glass to the chaise and stretched out on it. As always when he was in her presence, Smenkare stood in the manner of a military man at attention, his gaze never meeting hers directly. Even though his physical form was attached to the vibrator, Bast was able to separate him from it whenever she chose.
“Mentari took her life because of your selfishness, your mistreatment of her. She was a vessel to you, a way to power. Women are not vessels, but this lesson you never learned. And now you are the vessel and will remain so.” Bast gestured to the looking glass where Kira was now dressed and lacing up a pair of sneakers. “You must fulfill the thirty days. How do you plan to return to her?”
“I beg a favor. When I unscramble her memories, take away her fear and help her to accept me.”
Bast considered his request then nodded. “It will be done.”
* * * * *
Kira entered The Lust Bastion, clutching her white box with the Great Smenkare inside. Bast had called her and asked her to bring it. She worried there was something wrong with the vibrator. She couldn’t imagine any circumstance where a porn shop, even a classy one like Bast’s, would recall its sex toys. Maybe men everywhere had banded together to protest its orgasm-inducing abilities
Disheartened at the prospect of losing her vibrator, she entered the store and went straight to the cash register. The same little scruffy man she’d seen on her first visit here sat behind the counter looking at a magazine called, “Humping Hooter Honeys.”
Before she could ask for Bast, he jerked a thumb toward the purple curtain. “She’s waiting for you in there.”
“Thanks.” Kira pushed through the curtain and entered the same little room she had been in two days ago.
Bast sat in one of the intricately carved chairs. On the table, Kira saw a squat clay pot, painted with Egyptian figures, and two matching clay mugs. Bast poured a fragrant liquid from the pot into both mugs, then added honey to each before stirring them with what looked like a reed.
“Sit, Kira Maxwell. Have some tea.” It was not a gracious invitation, but a gentle command.
Kira sat, put the white box on her lap, and grasped the nearest mug. The warm liquid tasted exotic, its tartness softened by the honey.
“The Great Smenkare is more than a vibrator,” said Bast. She sipped from her tea, her intense gaze on Kira. “It is the key to your innermost fantasies.”
“I figured that out already.”
A cat-like smile creased Bast’s mouth. “Three thousand years ago, I took the soul of an Egyptian prince named Smenkare. Because he used women without a thought for their needs, their feelings, I cursed him to the life of a sex slave. He is bound to service the women I send him to in whatever way they desire. But I am not without mercy. He is only bound to one woman at a time and only for thirty days at a time.”
Kira blinked and in the nanosecond it took for her eyes to close and open again, the memories of her weekend flooded through her. On the couch, experiencing the best straight-on fuck of her life. Drinking from his penis like a cat sipping cream. In the bathroom, her pussy pressed against his hot mouth. On her knees, clutching the tub, allowing liberties she’d allowed no other. Her cheeks heated at the images of her sexual encounters with her fantasy man, the things she allowed him to do to her because it wasn’t real, because it couldn’t be real.
“I don’t believe you.” But she did. Smenkare was a flesh-and-blood man trapped in a vibrator, her vibrator, and the truth of it settled into her memory as if she’d always known. Somewhere in a fuzzy corner of her mind, she knew she should leave Bast’s emporium of insanity and drive straight to the nearest mental hospital, but she wasn’t afraid. In fact, everything Bast said made perfec
t sense except for one issue. “How can you trap a man in a sex toy?”
“I am the goddess Ubasatyya.” She pronounced it oo-bahst-ee-yaht. “I am the protector of women and relationships and sex.”
Her head morphed and Kira watched the transformation as if she’d seen the same thing every day of her life. Ears sprouted through Bast’s luxurious black hair, whiskers unfolded from the sides of a nose that shrank into a triangle, and her eyes narrowed more, the pupils lengthening. Her face resembled a furless cat, yet the rest of her body remained pure human femme fatale. Kira’s gaze was drawn to the gold ankh necklace that dangled between Bast’s breasts; the goddess’ hand closed around it.
“You’re a goddess.” She held up the white box. “And this is a man trapped in a vibrator.”
“What other proof do you need?” Bast gestured toward the box. “Press the black button and see what happens.”
Kira pulled out the vibrator, flipped it over, and touched the black button. She held it out, the penis pointing toward her, the balls pointing down, and waited.
A few golden wisps drifted from the dick, hovering in the air, slowly solidifying. Before ten seconds had passed, Smenkare stood before her, his hard
cock held captive in her hands. His gaze was as she remembered, dark with desire, as if he could fuck her right now without a single regret.
Kira turned to Bast, who had resumed her full human form. “He’s mine for thirty days?”
“Twenty-eight.”
She nodded, gazed up at Smenkare, resisted the urge to suck his cock like a lollipop, and turned to Bast again. “How do I get him back in the box?”
* * * * *
“You’re distracting me,” said Kira as she slanted another look at the naked man in her passenger seat. “I almost hit the car in front of me three times.”
“I am sorry, mistress,” said Smenkare, not sounding sorry at all. He sounded smug. He adjusted the seatbelt across his broad, muscled chest. Her gaze dipped down to his big, hard cock. She swallowed. How could she still want him? She was hornier than she’d ever been in her entire sexually active life.
