Juliana Jones and the Rod of Ra

This is my thirteenth contribution to:

The Valley of the Kings -- Egypt -- 1936

I'd managed to avoid the Cairo riots. A berth on a Nile barge had gotten me to Luxor and to him, to Mido. My guide for the next stage. He wasn't cheap. The slime-ball had tried to negotiate a barter arrangement, but he wasn't my type. I doubt he was any woman's type. The odor would put off a crocodile.

Still, he knew his ancient monuments. Trying to breathe through my mouth, we made plans. That night we left together for the tomb. I'd let Mido see the papyrus map I had secured, but it never left my person. As we approached our destination, I checked off the landmarks. Reaching the final marker, I was aware of eyes on me.

Turning I addressed my partner. "Trying to get another glimpse of the map, or just checking out my ass?"

"A thousand apologies, aanesa. It is a very fine ass."

I was more than aware of the shapeliness of my butt, and told him to concentrate on the job. We continued for a few hundred feet, thankfully in silence. Only when we arrived at the sandstone wall, I was moved to speak again.

"This is where Croft cashed in."

"A friend?"

"A lover. She was good. She was very, very good. Especially this thing she used to do with her thumb." I tore my thoughts back to the task in hand.

Mido expertly identified weaknesses, scraping with a battered trowel. The outline of a door appeared, and a keyhole. I extracted a bronze key from my back pocket. It fit and, as we both put our shoulders to the rock, a portal ground open.

Mido lit two torches and motioned for me to take the lead. "Ladies first, aanesa."

I stepped into the gloom. In the distance was a twinkling gleam. I peered ahead, trying to make it out. Then startled as Mido pushed past me. Hurtling down the passage, intent on reaching our goal first. I had a bad feeling about this.

A frantic yell echoed down the ancient walls. Growing ever quieter. Ending in a dull thump. Moving more cautiously, the flame I held aloft picked out a hole spanning almost wall to wall. Far below a fire flickered, and went out.

I edged along a narrow lip of stone, face against the rock, whip in one hand, torch in the other, and Mido's fate on my mind. My shirt snagged on an unseen protrusion. It had caught the buttoned front and I couldn't loose myself. I only succeed in also catching a bra strap. Fuck! I took a chance and lunged for the far side, just gripping the edge and hauling myself to safety. My shirt a tattered rag on the wall, my bra flapping down to join Mido. It was cold in the tomb, and my naked nipples contracted.

The light was brighter now. The path seemed clear. Suspiciously clear. I cautiously stepped forwards and recoiled as spears flew out from either wall. I yelped in pain, a burning sensation across my right thigh. Spears were fouled in my blood soaked pants. Pulling out a knife, I cut them off me. The wounds were only shallow, but they stung, and ruby red ran down my leg.

I stumbled on, in boots, panties and a fedora. When I reached the ceremonial chamber, it was lit in some mystical way. In the center, was a stone plinth. Set in this, a gleaming, aurous cylinder, reflecting eldritch light.

I dropped my whip and grabbed the rod. As it came away from its mount, a thunderous noise sprang forth and the ground trembled.

I needed to retrace my steps, and fast. Somehow traverse the pit more rapidly. My left had held the torch, my right the totem I had come to retrieve. And, on the floor, my whip. No pockets, no belt. And masonry beginning to fall around me.

Reaching a decision, I peeled off my panties, spat on the rod, and shoved it hard between my butt-cheeks. I'd taken bigger, it was fine. Clenching hard, and picking up my whip, I sprinted past the spears and towards the exit.

At full speed, I leapt the pit and crashed on the other side. A somersault, and back on my feet. Twenty more strides and I was out. Lying on my face, in the sand, the Rod of Ra sticking out of my ass.

I wondered whether big brother ever had these problems.