Coming to a stop deep into the twisting maze of corridors, Safiya huffed furiously and slapped her palm against the wall in an attempt to dispel her anger. It didn’t work. With every passing moment she grew more and more irate and her cheeks were flushed with rage.
Ever since they had left the museum, Kosey and Husani had been treating her like no more than a lowly apprentice, but now they had really overstepped the mark. No sooner had she led them to the most likely location of the tomb among these winding passageways than they had blocked her entry and ordered her back to the camp outside. With awful clarity she had realised that they had never harboured any intentions of supporting her momentous find; they only wanted it for themselves. She cursed herself for ever trusting them. She should have seen earlier that they were only using their wealth and good looks to manipulate her.
The very idea of it boiled her blood. All those self-serving bastards had contributed to the expedition was inherited wealth. Beyond that they had simply lazed around in their offices and sampled the finest wines they could lay their hands on, which, being in Egypt, were plentiful. But her? She had been the one to sift through and decipher thousands of pages of ancient parchment, analyse and re-analyse tablets and murals uncovered in every corner of the country by those who had come before, and ultimately plot their course to the location where, if her tireless research proved accurate, they would uncover the find of the century: the tomb of a long-forgotten sorceress buried beneath the sands of the desert.
In all of Safiya’s research, the woman was spoke of only in rumour and legend, yet everything she could find pointed to the woman having been both real and incredibly powerful. There was not even a name put down in ink, but if the ancient writings were anything like accurate it was said that she could entice any man to her will and was more beautiful than the divine goddesses of the heavens. The rumours said that she had quietly seduced generals and holy men, even pharaohs and she was the scourge of Egypt, wielding her power with mischievous abandon. Some said she was a demon, others an evil deity cast down from the heavens, with more still claiming her to be the offspring of a god and a mortal woman with the purity of her divine lineage perverted by the lusts and sins of the flesh. Whatever she was or had been, finding her tomb would have solidified Safiya’s place amongst her boisterous peers and finally free her from the humiliation of working beneath the selfish pigs that called themselves archaeologists.
Now, however, all of that was wishful thinking. Kosey and Husani would find the tomb, claim their fame and she would be left cataloguing artefacts in the museum while they lived like pharaohs themselves.
All at once she was overwhelmed with emotion. Grief, humiliation, anger, they drenched her mind and she sobbed emptily once or twice. Determined not to return to the two men showing any signs of distress she forced down her urge to cry and ran her hand through her hair with a deep and shuddering sigh.
Looking up once more her heart skipped a beat. A line of carefully carved hieroglyphs ran down the wall beside her, illuminated by the soft light of her electric lamp. Scanning them, it took her a few minutes to decipher them fully. The dialect was old and uncommon, but she knew it well enough to translate it accurately.
‘Here lies Thema, feared high sorceress of Egypt. Buried here according to her wishes by the hand of her loyal followers, out of reach of pharaoh and his priests. To set foot in this tomb is to incite her immense power.’
Safiya’s breath caught in her throat and for a horrible moment she thought she might suffocate before she could explore further. Ever since they had first entered this place through a rocky outcrop jutting up through the desert sands it had been more than clear that this was no ordinary cave system. The corridors were too deliberate to be naturally formed and there were the remains of ancient architecture littered around from crumbled pillars to what was left of a stone door at the entrance. Yet it was nothing like she had expected. It was more of a maze than a tomb, and the deeper they had gone the more confusing it had all become. As a result it had only been educated guesswork that had led them to the wide stone doors Kosey and Husani had forbade her pass through.
She frowned. As they had entered she had glimpsed inside the room. It had been every inch the typical burial chamber, yet this inscription was nowhere near the room. What was more, there did not appear to be any door.
Nevertheless, could it be that she had been wrong? That somewhere nearby the true resting place of the sorceress – Thema – was waiting to be discovered not by lazy men but her instead?
Barely daring to believe it could be true she reached out to trace the glyphs with her fingers. No sooner had she touched them, however, than the entire strip of characters from floor to ceiling glowed bright gold. With a loud cracking, rending sound one of the dividing lines split all the way up and what had previously been a solid stone wall swung back, now a pair of massive doors through which flooded bright, blinding light. The grating thud as they pushed into the room beyond echoed through the corridors and she started with shock. However, once her eyes grew accustomed to the new light, her surprise was overwhelmed by wide-eyed wonder.
For all that it was thousands of years old, the room beyond was a picture of astonishing beauty. Almost every surface was packed with colourful artworks and hieroglyphs, depictions of ancient deities towering high. The plaster had cracked and crumbled here and there, yet despite this she could still imagine what it must have looked like when it had first been finished: the vibrant colours, the delicate brush strokes, the carefully chiselled lines. The thick pillars that dominated the main space had been cut from the surrounding rock by expert hands, and the only surface that was not bursting with colour was the long wooden walkway nestled between them. It descended further than she could see and the only suggestion that they weren’t brand new was the thick layer of rock dust and sand that had collected on their steps over the centuries.
Perhaps what astonished her the most, however, was the lighting. Specifically, the fact that there was any at all. So far there had been no signs of any grave robbers or other explorers having visited the caves before them, which would imply that nobody had set foot into these corridors for well over two thousand years. How then, could the numerous braziers still burn as brightly as the day they were lit? It wasn’t possible. Nor was the fact that after what appeared to be millennia burning, they had not turned every surface black with soot. The room made no sense. The door, the lights, the relative freshness of it all. How was any of it possible?
Shaking off her confusion she clung to the sliver of hope that had presented itself. Now was her chance. She could be the one to unearth her prize. And she would make sure she could not be pushed aside so easily. Delving into her bag she pulled out her camcorder and began filming as she tentatively took to the wooden walkway, narrating her progress as she did so.
The room – somewhere between a corridor and a hall – sank deeper and deeper into the earth. Despite the impressive beauty of the place, Safiya refused to let her guard down. If the tomb builders of old were known for anything it was for their habit of booby-trapping their constructions and she had no plans of winding up skewered on a hidden pit of stakes or taking an arrow to the temple.
To further compound the mystery of the place, however, it appeared that whoever had constructed this subterranean marvel had foregone the fatal defences. Though she trod carefully all the way down she found no evidence of any traps having been installed at all, and the deeper she went the more confused she became. It was almost as if the builders had wanted the tomb to be found; the lack of traps, the door that willingly opened, the clear lighting and direct walkway. More confusing was the idea that the tomb was designed to Thema’s own specifications as the hieroglyphs had described. The Egyptians were known for their strict afterlife beliefs, so why would she design her final resting place with the intention of discovery and disturbance?
Her musing was interrupted as the corridor came to a sudden stop. She found herself stood before a towering set of golden doors engraved with hundreds of carvings depicting gods and goddesses. Her heart in her throat she pushed through and entered the room beyond.
In total contrast to the corridor, the room was pitch black. As far as she could tell the slat of light that shafted through the open door was the first the chamber had seen in thousands of years. What it illuminated, however, was more beautiful than she could have imagined.
The sarcophagus was pristinely preserved, the colours of the murals still bright, the structure of the elaborate coffin entirely intact. It lay atop a thick stone pedestal carved from the floor and it was clear that it had been untouched in all the years it had rested there. For a moment she was too emotional to move, but then she collected herself and took a step into the room, her camcorder held before her.
The instant she was inside, there was a loud whoosh and braziers all around the walls burst into life. Flooding the room with light they illuminated walls of gold engraved with thousands of hieroglyphs and she cried out in shock at the sudden noise. A second later the door behind her slammed closed and this time when she jumped she dropped her camcorder, which skittered away into a corner.
Ignoring it, she turned to the door and tried to pry it open with frantic hands. No matter how hard she tried she could not move it so much as an inch and a sudden panic rose in her chest. Hammering on the door she screamed for help, though she knew of course that her cries would go unheard.
All at once a loud grating sound filled the room and her stomach fell away in fear. Blood thumping through her temples, she slowly turned to face the sarcophagus in the centre of the room. To her sheer horror, she noticed that the lid had shifted to the side an inch or two. As she watched it shifted again before swinging off in a sudden burst of motion and crashing to the floor.
Desperately she scrambled for an explanation. This must be some sort of prank Kosey and Husani had set up. It was the only way any of this made sense.
Her denial was dispelled as up from the sarcophagus rose a dozen bandages. Swaying like snakes they were joined by another dozen, then another until the air above the pedestal was thick with weavings strands of cloth. Her terror rendering her mute, Safiya pressed herself against the door in the vain hope she might fall through it.
Painfully slowly, the bandages all turned towards her and her blood ran cold. A strangled scream rose in her throat, however only when they swarmed through the air toward her did she let it out. Slamming her against the door the bandages worked over her body quickly and efficiently. In seconds her legs were pulled together and tightly bound such that from a distance she might have been mistaken for some form of mermaid. Unable to run Safiya tried to tear at the cloth restraining her legs only for more to wind around her arms and pin them to her chest. Dragged to the floor by the swirling strands she wriggled frantically as her chest vanished beneath the pale material. In seconds the only remaining flesh was that of her face, but that was quickly snuffed out. Coiling over her eyes and mouth the bandages cut off her screams, muffling them into barely audible groans, the final stretches of cloth wrapping tightly around her.
Still holding out hollow hope that she might somehow escape, Safiya writhed desperately, her mummified body shuffling slowly across the floor. Her loudest screams were rendered all but silent and despite her best efforts she eventually fell still as her energy dwindled.
Without warning the bandages glowed softly and the room was filled with new sounds. Audible cracking, the creaking of strained cloth, soft but definite moans. Having landed in a position facing Safiya’s current point of bondage and still recording, her camcorder documented the entire process. From outside it looked as if the bandages were wrapped around a block of clay in human form and now they began to rework it. The waist widened, the ass and breasts swelled, the thighs bulged and the calves shrank a little. The skull twisted and changed minutely, while the stomach shrank and flattened.
Once their work was complete the tight bandages loosened and the figure beneath began to move again. Spreading her legs the now inanimate cloth fell away to reveal impossibly soft tanned flesh that shone beneath the firelight. Rising to her feet she pulled away the bandages from her torso and arms until her immaculate figure was draped in only a few strips of material barely covering her decency.
Her body was vastly different to the figure she had recently known. She was the picture of perfection and any man would have fallen to their knees and worshipped at the very sight of her. The drab, practical clothing she had been wrapped up wearing were now gone and beneath her bandages she was stark naked, showing off her stunning golden skin.
Reaching up she removed the bonds from her head and face and breathed her first fresh air in several thousand years. Safiya’s hair cascaded down and over her shoulders and her face was made up as it might have been if she had walked the halls of pharaoh’s palace in years gone by. Running her hands over her immaculate body she smiled wide. Thema’s spirit swirling inside her felt so deliciously bad, but she didn’t want it to stop. She never wanted it to stop.
It all made sense now. Thema had wanted to be found. She had left her tomb undefended so that someday long after her death she could be reborn in a new body, in a time when her mischievous promiscuity could be unleashed on an unsuspecting world once more. And she, Safiya, was Thema’s chosen host. Her perfect vessel, immaculate and irresistible.
Striding over to the sarcophagus she plucked out the enchanted jewellery from beside Thema’s original body: a golden bangle, a winged silver necklace and a gleaming tiara tipped with the head of a cobra. Slipping them on she shivered with anticipation.
Inside her she could feel Thema’s lust. It had been far too long since the sorceress had felt the warmth of living flesh on her bones and already Safiya was growing cripplingly horny. She needed release and she needed it now. Fortunately, she knew just where to find it.
Pushing open the golden doors she called out in a voice dripping with sex appeal. ‘Oh Kosey… Husani… I think I’ve found something you’re going to enjoy…’
Thanks for reading!
This story came about as a result of the very last image, and in the spirit of adventure I wanted to make it a little more about the mystery and the discovery than the transformation. I found the picture itself on Tumblr a while back and once I started writing stories I knew I wanted to use it in one. While finding it again I came across both the model and the photographer. The model is Genevive Valente, and the photographer is Jay Jones of Phase 5 photography. Valente has done a lot of awesome work and if you are interested you can find her here: https://www.modelmayhem.com/Genevive021. Jones, meanwhile, is an excellent photographer with a great eye for a sexy shot. He also has a profile on Model Mayhem here: https://www.modelmayhem.com/phase5. Be sure to check them out!
Another quick note is that my Thursday release is going to be the start of a week-long story. Once I started writing it I could not keep it down to just one story, so I have expanded it into eight shorter stories. Thursday’s story will serve as the introduction, followed by six further stories released Friday through Wednesday, then the conclusion will come on Halloween next Thursday. I really love the world that has developed through these stories and I hope you will too. Given the length of it this will replace my monthly serial, but if those are what you prefer reading don’t worry as my November serial is a brand new one that I am sure you will love.
I would love to hear your thoughts on my work, so please leave me a comment!
Keep up to date with new releases by following me elsewhere: