Mummified by a Goddess (F/M) Final Part Added!
Posted: Thu Aug 04, 2022 8:19 pm
This is a story that I wish I could be writing for the true stories section, but it seems like fate has once again intervened to relegate this to just a fantasy. Essentially this is a planned session that had everything set up except for a date, before circumstance intervened. Naturally some dramatic storytelling liberties have been added in since I’m basing this off of those plans and how I imagined them to go. There is still the potential that this story gets remade in the true section one day, but for now this is where it shall remain.
Part One
“Thank God that’s over with”
I dropped my work bag to the floor and tossed my keys on to the small table I had in my landing. I had just finished my last shift of the week at my minimum wage food service job, and to say I was grateful to have two days off would be a tremendous understatement. I was looking forward to a nice shower, grabbing a snack and then either diving into my favourite online naval warfare video game, Netflix show, or even just taking a big fat nap, I hadn’t decided yet. Little did I know, something far more, shall we say, exciting awaited me this evening.
The quick shower I had planned ran for 30 minutes. What can I say, I like to put on a full concert when I'm in there. The world might not be ready for my vocal “talents” but the soap bottles would not be spared. I was pulling on my relaxing outfit, an oversized pyjama t-shirt, some sweatpants and a pair of thick comfy ankle socks when I heard a knock at the door. Now having been raised in the early 2000’s I operated under a very simple rule, instilled in me by my parents who often had to leave me home alone. That rule being: For the love of God, don’t answer the door under any circumstances.
My typical reaction was to freeze, then try and sneak to a window so I could see who was at the door. I wasn’t expecting any package delivery, so in all likelihood this was someone trying to sell me something, which I wanted nothing to be a part of. I pulled my bedroom curtain back very slightly to peer out, and noticed an unfamiliar vehicle in my driveway, a black Cadillac Escalade. I typically associated these types of cars with the government, or soccer moms who went to the dealership with the search criteria of ‘I want the biggest civilian vehicle you’ve got’ and nothing else.
Part of me was concerned that this was the government. As a classic overthinker I began to wonder if I had filed my taxes correctly, or if I had missed a bill payment. But then my brain kicked in and remembered this wasn’t the 20th century and they would have emailed me or something and would not in fact send an enforcer to my house to collect what was owed. Plus tax season was in April, it was now October, and any discrepancies would have been noticed long ago. The knocking came again, causing me to lock up again. I swear there is no more unwelcome sound to my ears than someone trying to summon me to the door of my home.
Exasperated, I sighed and approached the door, thinking to myself that I’d just tell them I wasn’t interested, or whatever would get them away from my front step so I could start to enjoy my weekend. Opening the door I was incredibly surprised by what I saw.
Standing on my front step was a beautiful woman, and calling her beautiful might not be doing her justice. She was about my height, maybe a little taller at 5’9” and she seemed to be young-middle aged. The way she carried herself had an air of confidence and self respect, so maybe 33-35. The first thing I really noticed were her eyes. I’d say they were hazel but with the cool fall sun illuminating half her face I noticed that they could adopt a silver like shine. She had applied a light layer of eye shadow, further bringing out her piercing silver eyes. A matte pink lipstick adorned her lips and she had long, straight, light brown hair that fell down around her shoulders. She wore a luxurious thigh length black fox fur coat, which practically made my jaw hit the floor on its own. Underneath she had a grey wool turtleneck sweater, while black leggings adorned her legs. On her feet were a pair of semi faded white Nike Air Force 1’s, not filthy by any stretch but they had definitely seen plenty of wear. Draped around her shoulder was a large black duffel bag.
Something about her combination of a coat that was so expensive my minimum wage earning mind couldn’t comprehend it, paired with such traditionally “not trying” clothing struck a chord with me. She was such a picture of beauty that I didn’t notice the gun she had discreetly pointed square at my chest.
“Hey there handsome.”
Her voice matched her beauty, it was smooth, seductive with a distinct undertone of authority. Her voice was almost enough to distract me from the panic in my gut as I stared at the handgun. A confident smirk spread onto her lips.
“You’re mine”
Part One
“Thank God that’s over with”
I dropped my work bag to the floor and tossed my keys on to the small table I had in my landing. I had just finished my last shift of the week at my minimum wage food service job, and to say I was grateful to have two days off would be a tremendous understatement. I was looking forward to a nice shower, grabbing a snack and then either diving into my favourite online naval warfare video game, Netflix show, or even just taking a big fat nap, I hadn’t decided yet. Little did I know, something far more, shall we say, exciting awaited me this evening.
The quick shower I had planned ran for 30 minutes. What can I say, I like to put on a full concert when I'm in there. The world might not be ready for my vocal “talents” but the soap bottles would not be spared. I was pulling on my relaxing outfit, an oversized pyjama t-shirt, some sweatpants and a pair of thick comfy ankle socks when I heard a knock at the door. Now having been raised in the early 2000’s I operated under a very simple rule, instilled in me by my parents who often had to leave me home alone. That rule being: For the love of God, don’t answer the door under any circumstances.
My typical reaction was to freeze, then try and sneak to a window so I could see who was at the door. I wasn’t expecting any package delivery, so in all likelihood this was someone trying to sell me something, which I wanted nothing to be a part of. I pulled my bedroom curtain back very slightly to peer out, and noticed an unfamiliar vehicle in my driveway, a black Cadillac Escalade. I typically associated these types of cars with the government, or soccer moms who went to the dealership with the search criteria of ‘I want the biggest civilian vehicle you’ve got’ and nothing else.
Part of me was concerned that this was the government. As a classic overthinker I began to wonder if I had filed my taxes correctly, or if I had missed a bill payment. But then my brain kicked in and remembered this wasn’t the 20th century and they would have emailed me or something and would not in fact send an enforcer to my house to collect what was owed. Plus tax season was in April, it was now October, and any discrepancies would have been noticed long ago. The knocking came again, causing me to lock up again. I swear there is no more unwelcome sound to my ears than someone trying to summon me to the door of my home.
Exasperated, I sighed and approached the door, thinking to myself that I’d just tell them I wasn’t interested, or whatever would get them away from my front step so I could start to enjoy my weekend. Opening the door I was incredibly surprised by what I saw.
Standing on my front step was a beautiful woman, and calling her beautiful might not be doing her justice. She was about my height, maybe a little taller at 5’9” and she seemed to be young-middle aged. The way she carried herself had an air of confidence and self respect, so maybe 33-35. The first thing I really noticed were her eyes. I’d say they were hazel but with the cool fall sun illuminating half her face I noticed that they could adopt a silver like shine. She had applied a light layer of eye shadow, further bringing out her piercing silver eyes. A matte pink lipstick adorned her lips and she had long, straight, light brown hair that fell down around her shoulders. She wore a luxurious thigh length black fox fur coat, which practically made my jaw hit the floor on its own. Underneath she had a grey wool turtleneck sweater, while black leggings adorned her legs. On her feet were a pair of semi faded white Nike Air Force 1’s, not filthy by any stretch but they had definitely seen plenty of wear. Draped around her shoulder was a large black duffel bag.
Something about her combination of a coat that was so expensive my minimum wage earning mind couldn’t comprehend it, paired with such traditionally “not trying” clothing struck a chord with me. She was such a picture of beauty that I didn’t notice the gun she had discreetly pointed square at my chest.
“Hey there handsome.”
Her voice matched her beauty, it was smooth, seductive with a distinct undertone of authority. Her voice was almost enough to distract me from the panic in my gut as I stared at the handgun. A confident smirk spread onto her lips.
“You’re mine”