De Min-imus

Disclaimer: You\'d have to be a cretin to imagine that these characters were mine or that I was making any money from them. Disclaimers are a waste of time and have no effect in law. The original bits are mine, and are protected by UK law whether I assert copyright or not.


This chapter alone is written in response to the WIKKT second person challenge. The rest of the story will not be written in the same way, although the \'author\' here may get to put his two-pennorth in later. He does seem very opinionated.

Prologue-like to the swelling theme:-

You don’t get out much - couple of times in the last three thousand years – so you like to make the most of very opportunity when it presents itself.

You made a bad choice this time, though. Actually, that’s not fair, it’s not as if you made the choice. It was made for you by the pair of red-headed monsters. Red hair was always a sign of evil back in the old days, and this pair seems to bear out everything you ever heard about Set.

You should be grateful. If it weren’t for the mistake they made in the potion they were making, you would never have been free. But why did they have to choose this for your new home. It’s not much of an improvement on the old one. You get up in the morning, you hang around all day, you never go out, and you never get to meet women. A thousand years between women is a long time to wait, and it seems that your new host has been out of action for about the same length of time.

So you decide to take matters into your own hands – well you would if you had any. You try to drop hints to your new host, poke your head above the parapet as it were, take a bit of an interest in the women available, but he just sulks and hides in the dungeons. Not that you can blame your host, there doesn’t seem to be a great deal of choice here. Ah, for the old days when you had a harem, and your choice of maidens from the far corners of the Empire.

Then someone came to see him. A woman. She wasn’t much to look at, but by now you were desperate. For some odd reason your host seemed to think she was attractive. When you tried to get a better look, she threatened to cut your head off. Scary! Brilliant but scary! It was nice to hear the old language again though, and that night I dreamed again of the desert I had left behind so long ago.

Then she went away again, and all your host could do was think of her. You couldn’t see it yourself, all that bushy hair. In the desert that would have been home to all sorts of insects, and it would have been shaved off. You always did like a fine wig on a lady, with the cones of incense melting on them to release the richest perfumes into the air. But you could tell he would never do anything about it. I don’t know why he thinks he is ugly, in your time that nose would have been seen as desirable. All the royals had noses that big. Just think of Seti I.

You decided to give him a little push in the right direction, and started controlling his dreams, dropping hints as to how he might seduce her. In the old days of course you would just have given her father a couple of goats or a camel and that would be that. Apparently, these days young girls get to do their own deciding. I was shocked about this at first but, leaving aside the issue of the savings in goats, it does seem a lot more fun this way. A bit like hunting lions in the desert, but a lot more dangerous.

And when she came back she invited us to her rooms, and there were fine wines and rich foods. When you saw what she was wearing you quite forgot about the hair. Fine silk that clung to her considerable curves. You kept telling him that she was interested but he wouldn’t believe you. You thought that you were going to have to take over but she didn’t give up. She whispered in his ears, and kissed his throat, and even he had to admit that she wanted him.

You weren’t to be denied after all this time, and you quickly subdued some ridiculous qualms of conscience. And then it was all honeyed sweetn the the press of her firm young flesh, and the flood of ecstasy.

Of course, when you woke up in your old home you realised that it had all been a trick. The price you paid for her was much higher than a couple of mangy camels, but you didn’t begrudge it – she was worth it. And there will be other moments of freedom, you can wait.

She has manners though, the young girl, and she brings you regular offerings of flowers, and beer and bread and tells you how things are going between her and my erstwhile host. When he thinks she isn’t looking, he comes too and talks to me.

They seem happy together, and you are glad of it. You may only be a little, shrunken god compared to the old days, but you have worshippers again and you will watch over them and keep them from harm.