Date: Mon, 23 May 2016 15:41:07 -0400 From: Robert Costic <robertcostic@gmail.com> Subject: Imhotep Imhotep By Robert S. Costic Robert Costic has written a collection of fairy tales, "Flamethrower Fairy Tales," a novella, "Kepler's Revenge," and a collection of aphorisms, "Lightning Words," and has translated fairy tales by Theodor Storm and Friedrich Hebbel from German. All are available as ebooks everywhere. ----- Imhotep watched among thousands of other Egyptians as the pharaoh initiated the ceremonial masturbation into the Nile. A drought had depleted the river's water, which could no longer fill the irrigations sustaining the crops, and the Egyptians believed that more water could be summoned if the pharaoh sputtered his spunk into it, as their great god Atum once did to create the world with the liquid pearls of his masturbation. Immaculately dressed in white and golden ceremonial robes, the pharaoh and his retinue glittered in the hot, bright sun along the rim of water. The pharaoh unsheathed his member and tugged at it profusely, undoubtedly contemplating the great service he performed for his empire, and everyone watched in eager anticipation for that climax whose product held so much significance for them. That is, everyone but Imhotep, who became distracted by the sight of a particular man in the large crowd of spectators. For Imhotep the man exuded a radiant beauty that captivated him. Imhotep stared at the man, a longing for him igniting in Imhotep, and Imhotep's own member became aroused with its own longing to share sweat with this stranger. The man looked back at Imhotep and smiled. Imhotep's heart raced. The man seemed receptive, or maybe flattered, by Imhotep's interest, and he too no longer seemed to care for the pharaoh's profound masturbation. The stranger withdrew from the crowd but kept looking at Imhotep, and it seemed to Imhotep that he should follow the man, that there might be an opportunity for them to meet, so he followed him, weaving his way through the crowd and out, walking away from the river into the city of Thebes. Following the stranger down the deserted streets as everyone else viewed the masturbation, Imhotep turned a corner and saw the stranger standing behind the wall, waiting for him. "Not interested in the ceremony?" the stranger asked Imhotep. "Not after seeing you," Imhotep replied. "You are the most beautiful man I have seen in my entire life. Never have I seen a man more beautiful. You radiate beauty." "You are the only one who noticed it," the stranger said. "I don't know why," Imhotep said. "I know why," the stranger said. "Because you and I are of the same ilk, and in our kinship we see what others cannot, and I have sought you out from hundreds of miles, from Greece, to consummate our holy union." "I don't what you're talking about," Imhotep said. The stranger did not reply but only moved in and kissed Imhotep on the mouth. Imhotep put his arms around the stranger and embraced him and kissed him. Imhotep felt a tremendous of hot energy coursing through him, and they both felt each other's arousals, but then in a flash they were both thrown to the dusty brown ground. Startled, shaken, and scraped, Imhotep looked up and saw a bandit of tough thieves looking down on them. Three carried sacks of goods they had stolen from Theban homes while everyone watched the pharaoh. Two others stood with knives in their hands, and one called out, "Look at these two lovers. Looks like they were too horny with each other to be bothered with the ceremony. Well, since they are here let's have our own fun with them, shall we?" The two armed bandits lunged at Imhotep and the stranger with their knives while the three others put down their sacks and unsheathed their stiff pricks in anticipation of a gang bang rape. Imhotep, still on the ground, tried to scurry away and stand but remained pinned to the ground under the weight of the burly bandit, who grabbed Imhotep's slim, smooth buttocks with his rough, calloused hand. Imhotep flinched and braced himself for the worst, but the bandit did not kill or ravish him. In a moment the bandit on top of Imhotep, as well as all the other bandits, squirmed and convulsed involuntarily. The bandits shrank, and fur sprouted from their skin. Vines sprouted from the ground and crawled up the wall, latching onto the crevices. Imhotep looked at the stranger, who was himself standing and looking intently on the bandits like a man possessed. The bandits disappeared inside their clothes, and then a moment later they squirmed their way out, emerging as fully transformed into cats. From the vines, which had matured in that same moment, great clusters of grapes appeared. The stranger plucked a cluster and offered it to Imhotep. "I am the Greek god Dionysos," the stranger said, "and I have come here for you, Atum." "I am not Atum," Imhotep said. "You are Atum," Dionysos said. "I am just a poor man, a nobody," Imhotep said. "You are the ultimate god of Egypt," Dionysos said. "You are the god who created yourself and created this world. It is your cum that has power to transform everything. I have come to seduce you, so that together we can with our sexual energy recreate this world, to make a world where our values become nature itself." Imhotep's stomach churned with mixed emotions. He saw the cats and he saw the vines, and he could not doubt the power of this man who called himself Dionysos. But Imhotep did not feel like a god, and he felt embarrassed and foolish at the sound of all these words, which struck him as immodest and ridiculous, and emotionally he sank from these claims about him. Still, Imhotep was entirely entranced Dionysos' incredible beauty and charm. "I do not feel like a god," Imhotep said. "Let me show it for you," Dionysos said, and he again offered the cluster of grapes to Imhotep. Imhotep bit one, and Dionysos bit one, and they embraced, and kissed, and disrobed, and felt each other. Their thighs intertwined, rubbing frictionlessly on the lubrication of sweat, their pricks inflamed, the pleasurable sensations flooding, and quivered preliminary effusions, then turning so that back was against chest, excited nipples stiffened on a firm backside that sloped down to two receptive mounds of flesh, and those mounds gave way to the shaft that plunged in, the stiffness asserting itself among the flesh, kneading it, and with the music-making of these sensitive heaves Imhotep anticipated the transformation of the world.