Samantha held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Maybe just a little.”
“I will punish you later.”
“I look forward to it.” Her pussy pulsated at the light sexual banter, wondering what he had in store for her. “Now be a good genie and finish your breakfast.”
After they’d finished, Samantha led Lugal into the living room, instructing him to sit on the sofa, opposite the TV.
“Remember listening to the radio in my car?”
“Yes,” Lugal nodded, “with the music and all of the people speaking to me of various topics.”
“Right. Well, TV is a lot like that. Except with images too.”
“Photographs, like the one of me and Abigail?”
“Sort of, except the images and people are moving instead of standing still. I just wanted to give you the basics before I turn on the set so you don’t get too freaked out.” Samantha sat next to him on the sofa, remote control in hand. “Ready?”
“Ready.” He looked enthused, but she was glad his saber was safely tucked away in the bedroom, out of grabbing distance.
She pushed the power button on the remote, watching Lugal out of the corner of her eye as the screen came to life.
“Lucy, you got some ‘splainin’ to do!” was the first sound blip Lugal heard as an old episode of I Love Lucy came into view.
The muscle in Lugal’s jaw clamped hard and his eyes bugged. His posture stiffened, but Samantha could tell he was doing his best not to appear alarmed.
“They are so small,” he whispered in her ear, “and their world is devoid of color. Are they demons, or just tiny beings trapped in the demon realm?”
“No. It’s just a TV show with real people that was filmed in black and white, before they had color.”
His eyes widened. “There was a time when your world had no color? The gods must have been angry, indeed, to cast such a ghostly pall upon the earth.” He looked at his hands, turning them to and fro, then looked at the TV just as Fred and Ethel entered the scene. “I cannot even begin to imagine being drained of all color.”
“No, Lugal, what I mean is…” Nope, no way was she going to be able to explain this. “Never mind, just watch the show and I’ll have Charlie explain it to you next time you see him.”
“Aw, but, Ricky, it’s such an adorable little hat. Can’t I keep it?”
Lugal sat straight, his hands gripping his knees. “Hello?” he said tentatively to the TV. “I am Lugal Damu-zid.”
Samantha bit her tongue to keep from laughing. “They can’t hear you, Lugal.”
“Waaaaaaaaa.” Lucy’s face contorted as she dissolved into her fake crying.
“But they can!” He turned to Samantha. “You see? I have frightened the woman to tears.”
She patted Lugal’s knee. “No, it’s okay. It’s part of the…the play they’re putting on. Did you ever see actors role playing in your time? Performing in a theater?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “This is the same?”
“Very similar.”
He eyed the TV, leaning forward in his seat. “Do Lucy, Ricky, Fred and Ethel live inside this box? Do you own them? Must you provide them with food and clothing?”
Samantha chuckled. “No. Not to confuse you further, but the actors you see there are all dead now. Their images are kept safe on film or videotape or something like that. The images you’re watching actually took place more than fifty years ago.”
His gaze glued to the TV, Lugal shook his head. “I cannot fathom this. Do you sit here and watch the tiny foursome perform their play very often?”
“It’s just one of many shows I like to watch when I have the time. Okay, now don’t get jumpy, Lugal. I’m going to change the channel.”
“Change the—”
“That’s right, it slices, dices and chops and yet the blades are safe enough to use right in the palm of your hand without injury! See?”
“What is this?” Lugal leaned forward, clearly fascinated by the exuberant man with the Australian accent hawking a handy-dandy kitchen gadget.
“It’s an infomercial, people selling wares.”
“Do you see how it cuts garden food and yet will not pierce human flesh, Samantha? I must see this wondrous cutting tool he speaks of. Do you have one in the kitchen?”
“No, and remind me never to explain what a credit card is.” She laughed and flipped to another station.
“It’s nobody’s fault but my own. I was looking up. It was the nearest thing to heaven. You were there…”
“Oh…” Samantha sighed. “An Affair to Remember, I love that movie. This part makes me cry every time I see it.” She sniffed.
“The color is oddly bright in their world,” Lugal said, clearly unmoved by the heartfelt exchange between Cary and Deborah.
Samantha flipped to another channel.
“Yondah lies da castle of my faddah…”
Lugal watched and listened in wonder as a young tights-wearing Tony Curtis butchered the lines of the period movie with his heavy Bronx accent.
“People appear in this box from so many different eras. How many centuries old is this play?”
“I think it’s from the 1950s. The actors were just wearing period costumes and working on sets created especially for the movie.” She pressed the remote again.
“How do they all fit in there? Can they get out if they want to? Who put them in there? Do they—”
“have mustered two or fewer first downs on twenty-two of those twenty-four drives. The only exceptions were back-to-back second-quarter possessions that resulted in a touchdown and a field goal in Sunday’s twenty-ten win over…”
“Battle…” Lugal said, clearly entranced, his eyes glittering with interest. Samantha aimed the remote and a second later the football game was history.
“Hey y’all, I’m Paula Deen! Today’s show is all about romantical foods…”
“Oh boy, you’d love Paula’s cooking, Lugal. Everything she makes is full of butter and—”
“Return to the men in conflict,” Lugal said, sitting now at the edge of his seat.
“The what?”
“The men in strange armor battling to take possession of the oddly shaped ball. I wish to study their strategy.”
Samantha’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, you mean football.” She flipped back to it and sighed. “Typical man.”
“May I use this tool?” Lugal asked about two minutes later, holding his hand out for the remote.
“Sure. All you have to do is—”
Flip…flip…flip…
“All righty then.” Samantha chuckled. In less than a minute’s time, Lugal had managed to find every sports game currently being aired.
“I’ll just leave you to this for a while so I can catch up on some things, okay?”
Silence.
“Lugal?”
“Hmmmm?” He sat as if in a daze, his eyes glued to the set as he flipped from one channel to another.
“I said, I’ll just—”
“Nay! What is the matter with you?” Lugal yelled at the TV. “Forty-two was there waiting. Why did you not pass the ball to him?” He gave Samantha a speedy half-glance. “This number fifty-three is an idiot.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She patted his shoulder. “Have fun, I’ll be back later.” Since she had cable, she figured eighty thousand or so channels should keep him out of trouble for a while.
Samantha went to the bedroom where she took all the purchases they’d made the day before out of the bags. She’d spent a small fortune on their shopping spree, but decided it was worth every cent. She couldn’t remember when she’d had such fun.
Fingering the soft, luscious Victoria’s Secret goodies, she removed the tags and slipped the skimpy little nothings in her lingerie drawer, where they sat alongside her dreary old cotton underpants and sturdy bras.
She cleared out another drawer for Lugal’s new clothes. After stacking them neatly, she folded his genie outfit, closing her eyes and clutching it
to her cheek for a moment, before adding it to the drawer.
Lastly was the bag of sex stuff. She’d been too embarrassed in the store to spend much time looking at the items as Lugal plucked them from hooks and shelves, adding them to the shopping basket. Her eyes widened as she turned over a package and saw the flogger encased inside.
“What the hell…”
Upon closer inspection, she saw that it was made of strips of black velvet and purple satin ribbons, with clusters of little knots at the tips. She smiled. An innocuous little whip, designed to titillate, rather than cut into the skin. Although she imagined that, wielded by an expert hand, the little flogger would probably add a series of pink stripes to her pale flesh.
An image of her bound to a gnarled old olive tree in ancient Sumer flashed through Samantha’s mind…
She was helpless, powerless to free herself as Lugal Damu-zid, the dark, dangerous warrior of acclaim, approached, eyeing her as if she were a plump, honeyed fruit. Was he there to save her or to torture her? she wondered as the hot desert breeze licked at her. An instant later, he clutched what was left of her tattered, diaphanous gown, tearing it from her body in one pass, leaving her naked and trembling before him.
He walked around her slowly, drinking in her full, lush curves—and then she felt the sting of his whip as he flogged her bottom. After marking her as his and his alone, he further punished her by thrusting his hard cock into her dripping pussy as she stood tied and vulnerable, begging him for mercy. Ah, but he showed no mercy…no, he grabbed her tits, cruelly pinching and twisting her nipples as he rammed into her again and again and…
Samantha blinked.
Ooh, it was either getting mighty hot in her bedroom or her lust thermostat had just kicked up several notches.
She made room in the deep bottom drawer of her nightstand for all the kinky gear Lugal had selected. Once finished, she had a veritable arsenal of edible body paint, butt plugs—which had her more than a bit curious, vibrators, dildos, role-play costumes, and a host of other peculiar paraphernalia.
Never let it be said that her genie didn’t have a thriving imagination to go along with his robust carnal appetite.
Samantha gazed around her, balling up the bags from the mall, with the telltale bag from the sex toy shop buried at the core. Her bedroom was in order, with all traces of debauchery safely tucked away in the event Rosie’s kids came in the room on their next visit. Or if, in need of a cup of sugar, Mrs. Willoughby from next door toddled over with her walker.
The dear old woman had been known to take a wrong turn and end up in Samantha’s bedroom instead of the kitchen. Samantha half cringed, half laughed at the thought…
Lucy, you got some ‘splainin’ to do!
With a final glance to ensure everything was in its place, Samantha headed for the small second bedroom where she kept her computer. As soon as it booted, she went online and Googled Sumer. Her cable connection was working at a fast clip today and she was able to zip from one website to another in an instant.
What she read about the ancient land, its people and the times was fascinating, mesmerizing. There were accounts of Sargon of Akkad’s army battling and finally conquering all of Sumer. Samantha could imagine Lugal’s soldiers losing their motivation and fortitude without his leadership. If Lugal hadn’t been imprisoned, who knows, maybe the entire course of history would have been changed.
She frowned, wondering if Lugal was aware that the ancient cities he and his troops fought so bravely to defend had fallen to the Akkadians, their mortal enemies. She decided it wasn’t something she’d tell him about anytime soon.
More searching turned up pages of information about Inanna, Queen of Heaven, goddess of love and war, who Lugal said the priest and young priestess had summoned during their incantation to imprison him so long ago.
Her head shook from side to side slowly. To think that a man from the third millennium BC was sitting in her living room right now, caught up in a modern game of football on the television. The same man who’d introduced her to the hottest, most scintillating sex of her entire life. The unfathomable truth sent chills zigzagging up and down her spine.
Samantha gasped as she happened upon a page pertaining to ancient glassmaking…
It is believed that the first glass bottles and jars were made in Sumer and other regions of Mesopotamia. The process was so lengthy and tedious, only kings, queens or people of vast wealth could afford them. Thin threads of molten glass were dexterously wound around a mold of wet sand, which was later removed. Highly coveted, the jars served as containers for ointments, perfumes and cosmetics. Glass bottles were also used as tear vases. When a king or person of wealth or importance died, mourners shed their tears in the little bottles, which were then sealed in the tomb. It was believed the deceased would see these tokens of grief when they reached the next world…
“That sounds just like Lugal’s bottle,” Samantha breathed, wondering if there might be some mention of the bottles being used to imprison men who had fallen out of favor with priests or the gods. While there were dozens of pages about religion, the gods and people’s habits and beliefs, she didn’t come across any instances like Lugal’s, where men had been turned into unwilling genies. She’d have to do more in depth search another time.
More than an hour had whisked by, when it seemed like she’d only been exploring for ten minutes or so. She wanted to search for Abigail Henley, but decided she’d better fix some lunch for herself and her football aficionado in the other room. After they ate, she’d introduce Lugal to the Internet.
“Ham and Swiss on rye with potato chips,” Lugal said about twenty minutes later as he ate his sandwich. “This is very good, Samantha. Did you know that a one-ounce slice of Swiss cheese provides nearly two hundred seventy five milligrams of calcium? That’s more than a quarter of the one thousand milligrams of calcium recommended for most adults.” He grinned at her.
Somewhat taken aback, Samantha returned the smile. “I see that you’re learning quickly from those TV commercials.”
“I have learned many wondrous things. I will be able to coach you the next time we go to the market.”
“Oh you will, huh?”
Lugal nodded. “For instance, did you know that you don’t have to give up absorbency to get the thin pads you want if you wear pads with wings?”
Samantha burst out laughing, the diet soda nearly spewing out of her nose.
“Or that the brand of toothpaste you use is not the one most recommended by nine out of ten dentists because it does not fight germs and bacteria as well as Spark-o-White toothpaste?” He cocked his head. “What is a dentist?”
“A doctor who takes care of your teeth and keeps them healthy.”
“And if you wear pads with wings, where do they transport you?”
“Not nearly far enough when it’s that time of the month.” She chuckled. “Boy, you’ve taken in a lot of information and retained it. Do you have a photographic memory or something?” she joked.
“I do not know. What is that?”
“It’s very rare. Some people can look at or read something just once and remember it with extreme accuracy, without ever having to look at it again.”
“Yes, I have that,” Lugal said matter-of-factly as he took another big bite of his sandwich.”
Samantha rolled her eyes. “No you don’t.”
“It’s true.” He swigged from his beer and smiled. “It is one of the reasons I was such a fine leader of men in my time. Among other things, I remembered every battle plan I had ever mapped out without looking at it twice.”
Samantha’s jaw dropped. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Go to the freezer.”
Samantha scrunched her features. “Huh?”
“Do it. Take the container of Häagen-Dazs butter pecan ice cream out and look at the ingredients.”
Shrugging, Samantha scooted her chair from the table and did as Lugal asked. “Okay, it’s got—”
&
nbsp; “Cream,” Lugal cut in, “skim milk—lactose reduced. Sugar, pecans—roasted in coconut oil, butter, salt. Egg yolks, corn syrup, natural vanilla, salt.”
“Oh my God.” Her mouth agape, she looked from the carton to Lugal. “That’s incredible.”
One arm slung over the back of the chair, Lugal sat in a confident slouch, his smile broad and smug. “Yes, I know. I am a man of many talents.”
Oh, she could attest to that!
Samantha came back to the table and sat down. “So, do you remember every single thing you read?”
“It is…how would I explain it…” Lugal pondered. “It is selective. I remember what I choose to remember and push the rest aside.” He tapped his temple.
“A lot of men do that.” She laughed. “Gosh, if you lived in this time, Lugal, you could be—”
He reached over and clasped her hand. “It matters not, little one. For I do not live in this time long enough to become any more than I already am.”
Damn, she could have bit off her tongue for saying something so stupid, so unthinking. She rested her hand atop his and smiled as her thumb brushed across his knuckles. “You’re perfect just the way you are, Lugal. That’s why I love—”
Holy shit! She almost said it.
Samantha cleared her throat. “That’s why I love spending time with you and learning everything about you,” she amended, studying his face for any indication that he might have caught on to her feelings. He just gave her a tender smile in return, so she seemed safe. She was definitely in need of one of those seven-second delays the talk shows use so she could monitor what flew out of her big mouth.
“Ready to learn all about computers and the internet?” she asked with a cheery smile as she took their plates to the sink.
“But what about the football game? It resumes after halftime.”
Samantha chuckled to herself as she rinsed the plates and put them in the dishwasher. Lugal had already become more like a modern man than he realized. She only hoped all she was exposing him to wouldn’t make his dark, monotonous internment that much bleaker once he left her.
Samantha and Her Genie Page 22
