The Offering

Back on an even keel, Cameron stepped outside to make sure everyone else stayed on course.

Δ~~~~~~~~~~Δ

"Well done," Cameron declared as the last of the photographers exited the burial chamber. Every section of wall and shrine had required three photographs to document due to the limited space between the two, requiring most of the available time between Ashraf declaring the tomb safe and undamaged, and nightfall.

She took the man's camera and hung it over her shoulder, joining the other five cameras already weighing her down. "Go ahead up and join the party."

Cameron walked back through the tomb, already able to hear the music playing from the party above. The announcement of the party had turned around the remaining tension of the hawk, so Cameron decided that the inevitable little problems the celebration would cause were worth it.

The weight of the cameras on her shoulder beginning to tell, she picked up her pace and locked the tomb. A moment after sealing the upper gate, the guard preparing to take his station in front of it snapped his gaze off into the distance, toward the trail leading to the camp.

Cameron turned and noticed everyone else turning to face the same direction as the guard. Though she couldn't hear anything over the music from the party, she could see two of the guards arguing with a group of diggers and other locals. Abasi hurried toward the commotion.

Cameron picked up her pace, and upon seeing Cynthia, slipped the camera straps off her shoulder.

"What's going on?" Cynthia asked.

Her eyes locked on the scuffle, barely visible between two tents, Cameron answered, "I don't know, but I'm about to find out. Can you take these to the computer, please?"

"Of course."

"Thank you," Cameron responded. The music suddenly stopped, allowing her to hear the authoritative voices of the guards issuing commands, Abasi's voice attempting to restore calm, and the agitated voices of the locals. All were speaking Arabic, and the din of the people talking over each other made it impossible for Cameron to decipher anything, despite her relative fluency in the language.

Trent moved to intercept Cameron as she hurried toward the scene. "From what I've gathered, they're family to the diggers. Abasi said we should all stay here and let him deal with it."

"Well, he's going to have to deal with me, as well," Cameron said when she saw one of the guards cuff a dark-haired woman.

Pushing her way past the protesting Trent and around the makeshift decorations of the Halloween party, Cameron closed on the increasingly tense gathering. As she approached, she managed to distinguish individual voices. What she heard offered no comfort, as the diggers were surely on the verge of desertion, spurred by stories of woe from the family members.

The dark-haired woman that the guard had struck again attempted to reach Abasi just as Cameron reached the group, some of whom were already fleeing the area. The same guard raised his hand, but Cameron interposed her body between him and the woman. "Stop it," she demanded.

The guard lowered his hand and returned to issuing orders to the other locals to leave. Abasi was busy trying to calm the locals and keep the guards from resorting to violence. Cameron turned to the woman and asked, "Are you okay?"

The woman nodded, and then her eyes brightened. "Yes, you are the one."

"Pardon?" Cameron responded, her eyebrows arching in confusion.

"You do not seek to desecrate the tomb," the local woman said, reaching beneath the layers of her clothing.

"No, of course not — none of us do," Cameron responded.

The woman withdrew a pouch and said, "Take this. It must be this night." The woman handed over the pouch.

Cameron accepted the pouch with more than a little confusion, but before she could speak again, the woman continued.

"You know what this day is. Turn back the sands of time. You will know the importance."

With that, the woman bowed her head and turned away, walking back across the rocky terrain.

"There is nothing I can do," Abasi sighed. "I will request another group of diggers be sent immediately."

"What's wrong with all of them?" Cameron asked, slipping the pouch into one of her own, situated on the belt at her hip. Abasi answered, "They believe that a curse has been unleashed upon them because of the opening of the tomb."

Cameron sighed and massaged her temples with her fingertips. "We'll just have to get along until you can bring in a new group of diggers." With the locals now dispersing, the tension in the air lessened, though it didn't vanish entirely.

"We selected the men..." Abasi trailed off and snapped his gaze off to the side.

Cameron heard the sound as well, a distinctly feline growl. She saw no sign of the source, however.

"The hell was that?" One of the men at the camp asked.

"Sounded like a cat, over there," another replied, pointing toward a completely different place than where Cameron and Abasi had heard a growl.

With darkness descending, Cameron said, "I'm going to go lock down the tomb."

"I will attempt to redeem myself by calming those who remain."

Cameron nodded and made her way back to the tomb. As she passed through the camp, one of the younger men on the team suddenly spun away and vomited. Cameron scowled at Trent and walked over to him to quietly chide, "I thought you were going to keep this under control."

"Brian wasn't drinking," Trent protested in a hushed voice, and then went over to check on the man.

Despite the sinking of the sun, the air felt especially hot and oppressive. The previously jovial air of the party had quickly degenerated into nervousness. Cameron herself felt a sense of dread, as though something ominous loomed on the horizon.

Cynthia approached from the storage tomb and handed Cameron the key. "I locked up. I could have sworn I heard a cat growling while I was doing it."

"You're not the only one. There must be a stray running around here somewhere. I'm going to lock the tomb. Trent can let you know what happened. Brian was just sick, see if you can find something for him."

"I'm not feeling so well either," Cynthia revealed.

"Go on back to the camp, then. I'll be back in just a couple of minutes."

Cynthia shivered and hugged her arms around her. "Be careful."

Cameron nodded and continued to the tomb, her steps quickening unconsciously from the discontent she felt. She hurried through her inspection of the tomb, ensuring that nobody was still inside before returning to the entrance to lock the doors. She paused at the interior door when an odd sound reached her.

It started as a low whistle, steadily growing in strength. Then, Cameron heard voices raised in alarm. As she fumbled with the keys, attempting to lock the doors so she could return to the surface to see what was wrong, the sandstorm struck.

Cameron spun and gasped as the wall of sand instantly turned dusk into night. Even the lights strung through the tomb dimmed as the sand made its way into the long corridor. Instinctively, she jerked open the door and slammed it behind her, cutting off the sound of the storm and blocking out the encroaching sand.

For a few seconds, she panicked, thinking that she might very well have just buried herself alive. She calmed as the storm continued to blow, and only a thin layer of sand accumulated on the floor of the corridor. The length of the tunnel provided her some relative assurance that even a long sandstorm couldn't possibly prevent her from escaping once it ended. Since the door opened inward, it also couldn't trap her that way. She turned away from the door and followed the corridor to the first chamber of the tomb.

Her hands still shaking a little, Cameron unzipped her pouch to put away her keys, trying not to look back through the glass of the interior door at the swirling sand beyond. The linen sachet that the dark-haired woman had given her caught Cameron's eye. She pulled out the pouch and noticed that it was decorated with an image of Bastet. Now curious, and thankful for the distraction, Cameron untied the strings holding the top closed, and opened it.

"It can't be," Cameron whispered as she pulled out the object inside. She glanced at the altar and moved toward it without thought. Upon reaching the altar, she held the woman's gift above it. The ivory pin on the bottom of the scarab shaped base lined up perfectly. When she inserted it, the thick, two inch phallus protruded from the altar, obviously a part of it.

Even as Cameron pondered how the woman had acquired the artifact, the words she'd spoken sparked memory. This day, Halloween in the modern world, coincided perfectly with a day on the Egyptian calendar — The Feast of Bastet.

Before Cameron could begin to ponder those thoughts, she felt a sharp chill flow throughout her body. A moment later, she heard the hollow, unearthly sound of cats growling. The sound of women's voices joined those of the felines, the words indistinguishable but filled with a combination of pain and anger.

The sounds seemed to emanate from deeper in the tomb, and Cameron backed away from the portal instinctively. She gasped when she saw a flash of movement and glowing eyes. Cameron began to feel ill as she backed away, the lights within the tomb flickering and dimming.

Though the yowls and voices grew no louder, the sounds burrowed into Cameron's mind. With that came knowledge of the meaning.

Thief. Defiler.

Cameron shook her head in protest and mouthed the word no, her vision growing blurry and her balance leaving her. She leaned against the wall, despite her best efforts to avoid touching the paintings.

The onslaught continued, and Cameron slumped down to the floor. She closed her eyes tight and covered her ears, though it did nothing to stop the accusing voices. She continued to shake her head, fighting against the voices and silently protesting that she sought to preserve and protect the tomb, not defile it.

Cameron pulled her hands away from her ears when the cacophony suddenly ceased. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes, and gasped when she saw the cat seated before her.

The silver-furred and spotted Egyptian Mau stared directly into Cameron's eyes, its expression somehow conveying both accusation and curiosity at the same time. The eyes of the cat seemed to suck Cameron in, the rest of the world growing hazy around her.

A confusing jumble of memories rushed through Cameron's head, as though her life was flashing before her eyes out of sequence. Her memories seemed to linger in some places, while passing by what she would have considered momentous occasions with barely a flash. Cameron reeled, and then started when the images suddenly stopped.

The world around her slowly spread out from the eyes of the cat before her, eyes that had lost the look of accusation. Cameron distinctly remembered certain parts of her tumultuous memory flashes, notably those about this tomb, Tutankhamen, her brief relationship in college, and her attraction to Cynthia.

The Mau stood, stretched, and walked toward the altar in the center of the room. Cameron levered up on her hands, once again mindful that her head was resting against the precious, fragile paintings on the wall. The cat purred as it walked, and then curled its body around the base of the altar.

Once again, Cameron's eyes locked with the shining eyes of the cat. This time, something completely different gripped her. She whimpered as her nipples almost painfully stiffened, pressing hard against her damp blouse. An intense tingle shot through her as wetness flooded her sex. The level of arousal was beyond anything Cameron had ever experienced — insistent, overwhelming.

Her clothing felt like a prison, and she tore open her blouse almost before she could form the thought. Buttons clattered across the stone floor as Cameron panted for air. She shrugged off the blouse and popped the clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts with a gasp of relief. The same unnatural need prompted her to stand and remove her shorts as well.

Cameron stood amidst her discarded clothing, her body glistening with beads of sweat and her labia damp with her wetness. She caressed her breasts with her right hand while she teased her folds with the other — unable to endure the needs of her body any longer without giving in to them.

The cat's purring grew louder, the animal's eyes beckoning Cameron toward the altar. Cameron could feel an electric pulse connecting her to the stone pedestal, almost magnetically pulling her toward it. She took a step forward, and then another. Her pace quickened as she surrendered completely.

Upon reaching the altar, Cameron straddled it without a moment's hesitation, the perfectly smooth ivory phallus now the center of her attention. She parted her labia and sank down, letting out a quiet, high-pitched groan as the thick cock penetrated her.

Cameron yelped and her eyes popped wide open as the phallus began to vibrate inside her. She grasped the handles of the altar, answering her own question about the purpose of them beyond a shadow of a doubt.

The vibrations steadily grew more powerful, the feeling of stone and ivory replaced by the softness of flesh between her thighs. Her head lashed back and forth, her brown hair whipping as pleasure beyond anything she'd ever imagined permeated her through and through. She heard cries of ecstasy, barely aware that the sounds emerged from her own lips. Her juices flowed from her, creeping through the channels in the altar toward the vessel below.

Though her eyes were closed from the overwhelming sensation, Cameron could see a growing silver light through her eyelids. The light grew so intense that she couldn't have opened her eyes in the face of it, even as the tightly coiled energy of an approaching orgasm swelled within her. Then, the light vanished.

A loud, shuddering moan escaped Cameron as she felt soft fingers gliding up her arms. She opened her eyes to behold a dusky-skinned woman, her form still somewhat transparent despite the obvious solidity of her touch. Emuishere — Cameron knew it could be no other — grew more solid and real by the second, in time with Cameron's approaching climax.

The beautiful Egyptian concubine stroked her fingers over Cameron's breasts, adding yet another element to the incredible pleasure coursing through the young archaeologist's body. The vibrations between Cameron's legs reached a crescendo, her every nerve afire and numb at the same time. She just noticed Emuishere making a beckoning gesture toward the entrance of the tomb before orgasm claimed her.

Cameron screamed in ultimate bliss as she came, her juices gushing from her in a torrent, to flow down the altar into the vessel below. She'd heard of female ejaculation, but had certainly never experienced it. Cameron came and came, the relentless vibration of the altar driving her to multiple orgasms, dimming her vision and drawing screams of ecstasy from wells deep inside her.

Cameron didn't even realize that the vibrations had ceased until she collapsed forward. Emuishere gathered Cameron in her arms, and Cameron rested her head against the woman's firm, dark breasts to pant through the aftershocks of the unimaginable orgasm.

As she caught her breath, Cameron felt a burst of energy, quite contrary to the exhaustion she'd felt only seconds before. Emuishere smiled at her and stroked her forearms, encouraging her to let go of the handles she still gripped, and rise. Cameron straightened and let the ivory phallus slip from her clinging depths. Emuishere immediately drew her into a passionate kiss.

"Cameron! Are you in here? Are you okay? Everyone's asleep and I can't wake them..." Cynthia trailed off as she stepped into the first chamber of the tomb to see Cameron and Emuishere.

Cameron, on the other hand, was completely lost in the kiss, her hands exploring Emuishere's body even as the awakened concubine did the same. Even when Emuishere pulled away from the kiss, Cameron oddly felt no shock or shame at her nakedness when she noticed Cynthia.

"Come," Emuishere said in perfect English, her tone full of sultry suggestion and desire.

Cameron's pulse quickened as Cynthia approached, hastily shedding clothing with every step. Despite her attempts to ignore her feelings, she'd imagined and dreamed about the blonde's nude body on more than one occasion.

Cynthia lived up to every ounce of her fantasy, and more.

Emuishere kissed Cynthia when she reached them, guiding Cameron's hands between the blonde's legs at the same time. Cameron shuddered from the feeling of Cynthia's moist, velvety folds beneath her fingertips. Somewhere, deep inside, she wondered if this would be how the resurrected concubine would gain vengeance for what she perceived as a violation of the tomb — death through pleasure.

She was too immersed in the sensual ecstasy to care, however.

With Emuishere's guidance, Cynthia mounted the altar. Without a second thought, Cameron engulfed the blonde's left nipple between her lips. She could feel the building vibrations of the altar coursing through Cynthia, and Emuishere's full lips wrapping around the stiff bud of Cynthia's opposite breast only excited both women more.

Cynthia caressed Cameron's back, her voice raised in a constant stream of moans, yelps, and squeals from the pleasure given to her by the altar. Cameron also felt soft, knowing fingers exploring her folds. In short order, she had to concentrate to continue suckling the perfect pink bud between her lips, as her own mounting pleasure distracted her.

Cameron heard a chorus of purrs as she soared toward her peak, and noticed six bronze Maus circling the altar and the legs of the women just as her eyes closed. Cynthia's hot breath tickled Cameron's hair as the blonde exploded into orgasm. When Cameron followed her into blissful release only seconds later, she felt additional hands stroking her sweat-dampened skin.

As had Emuishere, the six servants had awakened. The dark-skinned beauties joined in the pleasure, and the floor felt nothing like stone when one of the women drew Cameron down to it.

The endless stream of orgasms blurred in Cameron's mind. She had no idea how many she had experienced, or given. She knew that she had straddled the altar at least once more, as had Cynthia. When she regained her senses in a moment of respite, the seven dark-haired women lay surrounding her and Cynthia, who kissed and embraced after their most recent climax. Cameron had a perfect view of the altar vessel, now almost completely filled with the mingled juices of nine women, and beginning to glow with a golden light.

The women surrounding Cameron and Cynthia took up a low, sensual chant, joined in a circle of caressing hands. The glow from the altar vessel intensified, forcing Cameron to look away. When the women rose to their knees, Cameron felt as though she should as well. It was then that she and Cynthia saw the two golden Maus saunter into the room.

The cats transformed, before Cameron's eyes this time. One could only be Djeserit, her paintings and statuary having captured her perfectly. The sense of power emanating from the other, unearthly beautiful woman identified her more than her appearance. The nine women bowed their heads, touching their foreheads to the floor in deference to the goddess, Bastet.

Goddess and priestess knelt amongst the awed women, and the pleasure began anew.

Δ~~~~~~~~~~Δ

Exactly three years later...

Cameron and Cynthia finished dressing, and then shared a long, sweet kiss over the altar of Bastet. Cameron removed the phallus from its niche, slipping it into her pocket. The two women shuddered as one, still tingling from their orgasms — their offering to the Ba and Ka of the women to whom the tomb belonged.