Ağu 31

The Feast of the Tail Ch. 06

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(Note to readers I’ve decided to just change Iset’s name to Isis. I prefer it that way.)

(Secondary note the poem at the end of the chapter is actually from the Chester Beatty Papyri)

Pharaoh closed the door of his chamber behind him.

“Alone at last.” He said with a smile creasing the skin around tired eyes.

Sitamun smiled back, her body warmed by the alcohol, she felt more relaxed, her skin tingling.

“At last.” She echoed.

Amenhotep walked towards her, circling her appreciatively.

“You look very beautiful tonight.” He breathed as he raised a hand to caress her shoulder. “So smooth, so slender.”

“I am glad I please you, Pharaoh.” She said as she dipped her head and looked up at him, leaning into his hand and pressing her cheek towards him.

“Now you are the King’s Great Wife. How do you feel?”

“I am honoured to have such a rare gift bestowed upon myself.”

He looks down at her sweet face, her inexperience and nerves obvious as she avoids his gaze. “Speak freely with me, daughter. You are my equal now.”

“I.. I am nervous, Father. I want to please you, but I don’t know how..”

Pharaoh pressed himself to his daughter so she could feel the heat of his body against her.

“Divine. You are divine, a God’s Wife, my wife. You have royal blood, pure blood of the greatest dynasty Khemi has ever seen. We shall be one together and I shall be rejuvenated. Trust me, I won’t hurt you. You please me very much.” He said as he thrust his erection against the flat of her belly.

She shivered with anticipation and allowed herself to relax as he rubbed himself against her, he feels so familiar and yet so foreign. For so many nights she has dreamt of this moment, she is completely ready to give herself to him and yet she cannot contain her nerves, she had always imagined herself as being more confident, but she shies away from his gaze and closes her eyes, allowing his hands to roam over her body, exploring her slender arms, slipping her robes from her shoulders, feeling her skin exposed to the cool air, her nipples harden and goose bumps freckle her flesh.

Amenhotep absorbs the sight of her, her long graceful neck leaning to the side as he laves his tongue over her dark skin, tasting the salt of her sweat, he nibbles her jaw and takes her full lips into his mouth and sucks them, slipping his tongue into her mouth and forcing it inside while her tongue tentatively responds.

Sitamun feels her slit swelling and opens her legs instinctively as Amenhotep slips his hands down over her breasts and between her legs, greedily touching her all over as quickly as he can. She feels his cock swelling even more, looking down she sees it like a tent pole from under his shendyt.

Amenhotep pushes her back towards the bed, as her knees hit the back she automatically sits down, he takes off his clothes, his cock jutting out. He tugs at her robe grinning as he reveals her flat belly and shaven mound, she leans back and spreads her legs for him.

“Let me give you my love, my youth and my devotion, Pharaoh.” She whispers as she parts her lips, beautiful black skin spreading to reveal her swollen, slick, pink slit.

“Oh Sita..” He gasps as he leans over her, angling his cock to his daughters opening. “Yesss…..” Amenhotep can feel her hot wetness on the tip of his cock, and thrusts himself inwards.

Sitamun cries out as she feels his thickness spreading her pussy, a sharp sting of pleasure and pain as he fills her virgin hole, coupled with complete joy and fulfillment as Pharaoh consummates the marriage, she feels like his wife, she is a woman, and in this moment he is hers. There is no one else in the world but them.

Her Father begins to thrust himself in and out of her, she can smell the alcohol on his breath and the musk of spices and perfume. His stubble grazes her chin as he kisses her and forces his tongue into her mouth. Amenhotep caresses her breasts as he speeds up and drives himself deeper into her, losing himself in the feeling of her tightness around him, he hears his balls slapping her ass, her little hands grip him harder, her nails digging into his back as she mews and moans beneath him.

“Oh.. oh.. mmm… mmn. Yes..”

“Sitamun.. Sitamun.. Sita… unghh.” He groans as he finishes inside her.

The daughter and wife of a King she thought to herself with satisfaction. An impeccable bloodline.


Isis walked slowly down the cool polished halls of alabaster, as she made her way through the palace she ran her fingertips along the walls, tracing the pictures of ibis wings and the bodies of her ancestors who stood beside her, frozen in time, immortal in their names and stories chiselled into stone.

The guards was standing outside her chamber, they bowed their heads and opened the door for her, revealing Didim Escort Nedjem, her maid, sitting and waiting for her in her bedroom, nervously fiddling with her hands.

“My lady are you alright? Your dress!” Ned exclaimed, standing up from the golden armchair and rushing over to the princess.

“Silence your worries, Nedjem. I am perfectly well, just a little sandy. I went for a swim. No questions tonight, please. Tomorrow I will speak of it.”

Nedjem walked over obediently and began to attend to her lady, taking off her kalasiris and removing her soiled wig.

“How was the feast, Ned?” Isis asked wearily as her maid began to prepare water for her bath.

“Good, Nebeti, but your mother was angry. Be warned. She was expecting you to entertain the Mitanni prince and the Babylonian ambassador.”

“Oops. How angry was she? How prepared do I need to be?”

“Some grovelling wouldn’t go amiss. Prince Amenhotep saved the day, he hosted the guests and they all seemed charmed by him.” Nedjem reassured.

“How was Sita?” Isis asked curiously.

“She seemed well. Pharaoh retired to his chamber with your sister not long before you returned.”

“And Dhjuti?” Isis asked as she enjoyed the sensations of Nedjem washing off the dust and grime from her excursions with cool floral water.

“He came looking for you, he asked after you, but I knew not where you had gone.”

“I would see him now. Dress me in something appropriate, Ned.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Isis knocked at Djhutmose’s door, but there was no answer.

Isis nodded to the drowsy guards that she would enter and they opened the doors to make way for her and then closed it again behind her.

Dhjutmose was asleep, slumped on his chair where he had been sat waiting. Isis walked over to her brother and looked at him. He looked young, boyish even as he slept with his long thin lashes and smooth brown skin. His lips looked full and soft, and kissable. For a moment Isis thought about kissing him, and as she thought about it she longed to do it more and more. She caressed his hand.

He did not stir.

Isis lent down, heart fluttering and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, her heart pounding in her chest, feeling warm and giddy, electric shocks sparking from where his skin had touched hers.

She stood again, smiling to herself. He had not moved.

Isis waited a little while, thinking to herself. Djhuti, as the oldest of the full blood royals, had always taken care of his siblings. He had always held their hands when they were children, he always made sure they were safe. Once he had saved Isis from drowning in the Nile, when she was only a little girl, it was something she had not thought of for a long time, but if it weren’t for Djutmose she may not have lived to this day. How strange life is that such a short moment can make such a big difference. Of course her brother would surely have forgotten it, there were so many times he had protected his family, as the eldest it was just a part of daily life, but Isis hadn’t forgotten how his arms felt wrapped around her when he brought her back to the shore. She loved Sita, and all her sisters, but she was always compared to them. It wasn’t the same.

After a moment of watching the soft steady rise and fall of his chest, listening to the breath of his ka, she woke him gently with a nudge and a whisper.


He did not wake.

“Dhjuti.” she sang.

The prince began to stir.

“Hmm?” he mumbled.

“It is I, Isis. Wake up, Dhjuti.”

“Isis?” he sat up, bleary eyed.

“Sorry I’m late.” she whispered.

“No, no, it’s fine.”

He was more awake now, sitting up straight, eyes clearing.

“Where were you tonight? I sought you out, but no one could say where you had gone, not even your maids.”

“I left the palace and let the river caress my body.”

“Isis!” he exclaimed. “You should be careful, you know nothing of the dangers of Thebes. There are many dark forces in our lands, foreigners, evil men, people who would harm a woman even as beautiful as yourself. What would I have done if you had gotten hurt? You cannot be replaced!”

“Hush, Dhjuti, I am well.”

“What am I going to do with you?” he chided affectionately.

“Sit and listen.” she said.

He merely smiled at her insolence. “The dream?”

“Yes. Netjer Isis lifted her veil in my dreams, she sent me another vision. I was a babe, a child in her arms, she placed the ankh in my mouth and I breathed it in becoming one with the goddess. I saw through her eyes. She guided me to sit on her throne, but as I went to sit upon it I was surrounded by blood, all over the floor. Neter Osiris lay dead at my feet, I tried to put him back together, but there was a piece missing.”

“As in the story?” Dhjutmose Didim Escort Bayan interrupted.

“Yes, exactly. I did not know the spells of resurrection. Then I heard the voice of Atum, he told me to find all the pieces of his soul and that only I could guide him back from the dead. An uraeus spiralled around me, a coiled serpent like Apep devouring his own tail, pure gold and rising around me in a disc of golden light, and then the blood from the ground poured into me, seeping into my own skin and I was rejuvenated. Netjer Isis told me I have the power to make a man Pharaoh, she said I will be wife and mother to the gods. On my throat were the two stars of morning and evening, Tioumoutiri and Ouaiti, glistening with light. I kissed Osiris, his body now bound together in linen, the taste of blood was in my mouth and a golden light slipped from my lips as though I breathed my ka, my own soul into his body. Then when I walked back to the throne, you were sitting there, green skinned. You thanked me, and told me to follow my dreams.” Isis finished. “So what do you think?”

Dhjutmose sat pensively, humming to himself and scratching his chin.

“This is a powerful dream, indeed. What do you think it means, Isis? What did you learn from the priestesses in the temple? They have been teaching you to unravel the visions, have they not?”

“Yes, although I have not yet had the chance to tell the high priestess, but I think some danger comes your way Djhuti. It’s a warning.”

“But in the dream you save me, Isis. I will be safe when I am at your side. That message is clear, no?”

“Dhjuti, dreams are not always as they seem. Do not disregard the dangers… you mean too much to me.

“Oh, ibib.” He smiled. “Em hotep, you have nothing to fear.”

Emboldened by her admission, he decided to share his own feelings, and his own plans for the future.

“If I know anything in this world, it is that you and I will be together always. Lady Isis shows us that truth.”

“I suppose you could interpret the symbols that way. I was Isis and you were green skinned upon the throne like Osiris, brother and sister together.”

“You are destined to be by my side, Isis.” he declared.


“Yes. I am certain of it. I have been named Prince Regent, it will not be long until I sit on the golden throne, and when I do I desire to call you ‘sister’.” He spoke firmly, passionately, but between his words was a question, an uncertainty.

Isis was quiet but her cheeks were flushed, her belly warm with pleasure. To call someone ‘sister’ in Egypt was to call someone your wife. She understood that Djhutmose could and would likely claim her as his Great Wife when he took the throne, since she was the eldest unmarried daughter of the Pharaoh who could solidify his claim, but she also understood that by voicing his desired he placed himself at her mercy. He was telling her that it was more than duty to him, that he loved her, and he was asking her to love him.

He placed a hand on her cheek and brushed a stray braid behind her ear, his face lit by a boyish and bashful smile.

“Would that please you, sister?”

“Yes, Djhuti.” She replied shyly.

“It must be no great surprise to you. We were destined for this, for we, even among our own kind are the most godlike. It cannot be denied. You are divinity incarnate, there is magic that flows in your veins, your mien one of unquestionable nobility.”

“I have always loved you, Djhuti. Don’t you know that? I would be honoured to call you ‘brother’ and beloved.”

“Do you mean what you say, sweet Isis?”

“Yes, by my name and all the parts of my soul, I speak no lies.”

“Let me tell you a poem I have long recited secretly in my heart,

The one, the sister without peer,

The handsomest of all!

She looks like the rising morning star

At the start of a happy year.

Shining bright, fair of skin,

Lovely the look of her eyes,

Sweet the speech of her lips,

Beauty and blood of my kin.

Upright neck, shining breast,

Hair true lapis lazuli;

Arms surpassing gold,

Fingers like lotus buds,

Heavy thighs, narrow waist,

Her legs parade her beauty;

With graceful steps she treads the ground,

Captures my heart by her movements.

She causes all men’s necks

To turn about to see her;

Joy has he whom she embraces,

He is like the first of men!

When she steps outside she seems like that, the Sun.

For me, and in my heart I know,

That she is my only One.”

A single tear of joy crept out of the corner of her eye and slipped down her cheek.

“It is beautiful, Dhjuti, as are you. I have secretly longed for you, yearned for you in my heart. I had always hoped that perhaps we would sit side by side Escort Didim together, my arm around your waist, for you to be the river I drink from, for yours to be the firmament I rest myself underneath as I close my eyes at night. With you I know I will always be happy.”

“The goddess Isis has shown us, I will take the throne with your help. We will be happy, and we will be together. We will love each other and fill the palace with fat, happy children.” He smiled, his big warm smile, relieved that she shared his feelings and innermost thoughts. “Come, sit by me sister.”

Isis sat beside him on the cushioned seat, nestling into him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“But what could the blood mean, Djhuti?”

“I don’t know, perhaps the High Priestess would know. It does remind me of something though…”


“You remember the story I told you? Before the first dynasty they used to kill the Divine King when he lost his strength.”

“Yes, you said that the ancient Pharaohs were human incarnations of divinity, and that their strength reflected the strength of the land and the people, and if their strength failed them then they would have to be released from their bodies, lest their feebleness curse the land of Egypt. You told me the first Heb Sed was a ritual killing of the Pharaoh by the priests of the Jackal.” Isis recited.

“Well remembered. I have found, in the north, ancient texts hidden under the sands during construction of the new temples detailing the process. You see, the God King’s life is bound with the lives of the people and the land he rules, which is why he must be protected at all costs, but no matter how well protected he is, as a mortal he will grow old and die. What catastrophes will befall the land if this is allowed to happen? The danger is formidable and there is only, or was only one way to divert it. The man-god must be killed as soon as his powers begin to fail and his soul must be transferred to a vigorous successor to ensure the fruitfulness and abundance of life of the people and their land.”

“And that’s why they ate him?” Isis asked, remembering the gruesome tale.

“Exactly.” Djhutmose nodded gravely. “But the priests grew too powerful, which is to be expected if they consumed the flesh of a god. It became common for the priests of the Jackal to command the Pharaoh to die, whenever they chose, and the Pharaoh had to obey.”

“No!” Isis was shocked and disgusted.

“Oh yes.” said Djhutmose solemnly. “And he always obeyed, can you imagine? Those with the blood of the Gods walked to their death, obeying the priests that were beneath them, until one day in the Old Kingdom one Pharaoh ignored the command and entered the Golden Temple with his soldiers, putting the priests to the sword.”

“Quite right.” Isis nodded, satisfied.

“And so eventually the Heb Sed ritual changed and the Pharaoh ‘rejuvenated himself’ instead, even though it’s just a deception.”

“So now,” Isis mused, “Our father uses the power of youth, beauty and priestesses to restore his vigour. Sitamun’s innocence is his sacrifice.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but it’s true that priestesses have practiced ancient sex rites for fertility and restoration in the past…And in your dreams you had powers of rejeneration, in your dreams you could use magic.”

“Yes…But I don’t know how to use it yet, I am not yet a full priestess of the temple. The rites of passage have changed, the ones you speak of are over a thousand years old.”

“Old magic is the most potent… But if you could, if you had that power, think of what Egypt could be. Isis, I believe the Goddess has sent you these signs for a reason. In the desert, the ancient writing said you can capture the soul of the dying God, as it floats out of his nostrils. If you do that, you absorb his power. Do you think you could do that? You are a woman, you take in, you can hold things within. Women are the best vessels.”

“What are you saying?” Isis asked suddenly suspicious of his intentions.

“I-I’m just thinking…” Djhutmose said defensively. “Of the dream. Of us. Of power. Isis is sending you a message we do not yet understand.”

“Would you kill him?” asked Isis directly, her eyes boring into him.

“I didn’t suggest..”

“Because we could, if you wanted.” She interrupted. “Nothing could stand in our way.” Isis stood up from the chair, moved in front of Djhutmose put her hand on his chest, pushed him back hard and straddled him before kissing him and sucking his bottom lip.

She whispered in his ear.

“I’ll put you on the throne.”

Before he could react she had gotten up, grinned at him devilishly and was already halfway out the door, while he was left with tingling lips and a raging erection.

*Notes for this chapter on the Ancient Egyptian language.

(I will stop repeating the Gods that have already come before)

Shendyt – Egyptian skirt/loincloth

Kalasiris – An ancient Egyptian women’s long linen dress

Netjer – Goddess

Neter – God

Ibib – beloved

Em hotep – peace

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