|
SOPHIA OF WISDOM III -
|
THE NEBHET PAGES |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
Rijksmuseum
van Oudheden, Leiden, the Netherlands.
It's hard to see, but here Nebhet has green skin,
as a resurrection Goddess,
which is a fairly unusual depiction (MH) |
|
|
|
THE NEBHET
PAGES
are produced by Margaret Harvey of Purmerend, the Netherlands
and Laura Janesdaughter of Los Angeles, California
and
are sponsored by the Temple of Isis/Los Angeles www.toila.org |
.CODE: H (set in the Horus/Kemet storyline)
TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): NA
PAIRING:
Ra/Rayet (M/F)
EXPLANATION: See "Great Royal Wife" for the more passionate flipside of this story. Ra tends to go to
Great Royal Wife Nebhet when he's feeling furious about something, and to second wife Rayet when he's in a calmer, sweeter
mood. This is all well and good if you like really hot passionate stuff, like Nebhet does, but what happens when your husband
is in a really LONG good mood...?
DISCLAIMERS: When this was first written, Rayet's name was given as Rat. That's since
been changed.
* * * * *
Little Sister
Nebhet Hotep flounced into her quarters and slammed the door, throwing
herself into a chair and scowling at the floor. She couldn't believe how he treated her, the mother of his important children,
his first and great royal wife. He should have been with her tonight; but no, she was certain he'd gone to Rayet, the cowering
strumpet. Ra had always liked her better. It was either because she was his sister, or because she was always so--accommodating.
He still visited them both, but he went to Rayet more often, if the number of children she'd given him was any indication.
Nebhet suspected that he even sneaked to her room occasionally in the middle of the night. He'd done so with Nebhet a few
times, in the past; but that had been before Rayet. She'd been happy enough before Rayet.
She looked over at her mirror,
sitting on a table. Had he actually gone to her? He would come to Nebhet usually after some confrontation, or when he was
angry; she was the perfect outlet for his anger, which she always managed to convert into passion, so their nights together
were always stormy, and even wild at times. Yet he never visited her when in a good mood. He must go to Rayet then.
She
kept thinking, he'd been in a good mood tonight.
Slowly, she rose, and went to pick up the mirror. She took a breath,
and concentrated.
The copper surface swirled. An image started to form; a dim image, shrouded in shadow, flickering
lamplight the only thing illuminating it. Anger flared up in her chest and her fists clenched when she saw what she'd been
looking for--a bed, from above, the two figures in it occupied. The dim shape on top was naked and moving slowly, buttocks
contracting, then releasing, and tightening again. Beneath it--a female figure, her arms draped over its shoulders, her legs
hugging its hips. Her head was tipped back, her eyes shut. A light sheen of sweat covered them both.
Nebhet wanted
to smash the mirror in her rage. Ra hadn't gone to her; he'd had her called to him. The bed was his own, and
they were making love in it. They hadn't even covered themselves; as her view shifted she could see them from the side. Ra's
thick panting filled the air. Rayet's breasts pushed against him when she strained. He lifted his head from kissing her neck
to feel them, his fingers gently caressing their curves, tracing delicate patterns over her nipples. She sucked in her breath
and moved her head from side to side. Ra's hands slid underneath her to feel and splay her buttocks; Rayet let out a long,
low moan, arching and rocking slowly with him. He repositioned himself and Nebhet heard his panting grow heavier.
She
ground her teeth with fury. Why, why had he called her? Why wasn't Nebhet good enough? Why did he only come
to her in anger--why was Rayet the one to experience him in so many ways? She'd watched them before; they made love in many
ways besides this--she'd seen him allow Rayet on top of him, and in his lap, and once they'd coupled standing up, Ra gently
pressing her against a column and thrusting while her thighs embraced him. Once she'd even accidentally happened on them enjoying
each other in the courtyard pool! She'd come looking for Ra only to find him and Rayet reclining in the water, Rayet giggling
softly and twirling a lotus before his face as he smiled and held her to him; the water hadn't managed to conceal the fact
that beneath the surface, their legs were twined together, their hips meeting in union. It was only Nebhet's abject embarrassment
and apologies that had spared her from Ra's temper. The only satisfaction she'd gained was knowing that Rayet had been embarrassed
too.
But the moment that had by far infuriated her the most was when she'd seen them in one of the outdoors courtyards
in the open, under the moonlight, Rayet lying on the ground on her stomach, resting her head on her arms, and Ra crouched
atop her hips with his head tilted forward, swaying slowly. The moon silhouetted them. Nebhet could remember clearly the way
Ra's thighs clasped Rayet's prone body, the way his hands fondled and spread her buttocks further, the way he'd thrust, urging
himself into her gently. While she barely moved, just letting him pleasure himself with her. Nebhet had gone back behind a
column, too angered and humiliated to watch; but the sound of their soft cries of desire haunted her still. Ra never moaned
that way for her.
In her mirror now, they were moving faster, their hips pumping into each other, Ra breathing quickly
as he pushed, moving up and down. Rayet wrapped her legs around him welcomingly. Nebhet slammed down the mirror. She could
watch no more; if she did, she knew her anger would never die. Instead she went to her bed and lay down with her hands before
her face, alone.
* * * * *
Rayet trailed her fingers over the muscles of Ra's back as he moved, pushing into
her. The hot fanning of his breath over her face she welcomed, and the touch of his hand upon her breast; she'd loved him
since her youth, but had never found the courage to tell him, not even when it had come time for him to take a wife and he'd
chosen Nebhet Hotep, the daughter of Amon and Mut. Everyone had seen the match as a purely political one, but a wise one as
well, as the two were suited in temperament. Rayet had said nothing, merely watched the marriage with an aching heart. She
wasn't certain what had, several years into the marriage, turned her older brother's eye her way; but something had, and she
hadn't rejected it. When he had asked for her hand she'd submitted demurely; he'd seemed to appreciate her meekness as the
opposite of what he was, and she'd carried the behavior to his bed. By right of law Nebhet's children were to supersede hers
in importance, as Nebhet was the great royal wife; Rayet didn't much care, as all that she'd wanted was Ra. Nebhet had looked
none too happy when they'd retired from the wedding banquet to his quarters. Rayet herself had been a little frightened, but
also excited, her heart beating hard in her chest; she'd desired him all her life, and the moment had come, she was pure and
ready for him. Still he'd been most gentle with her, removing her clothes in the dim light with most of the lamps extinguished,
and taking time to ready her with his fingers playing over her most secret area until she trembled in anticipation; his swift
entry had been searing and painful, but the slightest touch of his hand to her abdomen had ended that, as she recognized his
healing power coursing through her and banishing the pain. Needless to say she had let him make love to her all night, enjoying
his feel, and the knowledge that all she had ever wanted was now hers--his pleasure was her pleasure--and she'd only lamented
the coming of dawn when he'd had to leave her to bring the daylight. He'd touched her once again, to remove the ache of exertion
from her body; thereafter she'd spent most of the day lying spent in his bed, until nightfall brought him back, and with him
the tender ache, the sweet feel of him within her.
In the days afterward, he'd come to her bed nightly two weeks in
a row.
She harbored no jealousy for Nebhet, though she knew the royal wife envied the time Ra spent with her, which
was increasingly more often. He went to Nebhet only when extremely angry; Rayet didn't care to guess how they spent the time.
She feared and respected her husband's temper and authority; she'd seen how furious he could get the one time Nebhet had appeared
while they passed their time in the pool. That time had been enjoyable, at least at first; when Nebhet had shown up out of
nowhere she could tell that Ra had thought she'd been spying on them. She'd hidden herself among a patch of waterlilies and
cowered while Ra's invective rained down over his first wife; only Nebhet's quailing apologies and hasty departure had spared
her, Rayet was certain. If that was the mood in which Ra visited her, she hoped he saved those times for Nebhet.
Ra
kissed her neck, bringing her back. She heard him murmur softly near her ear; the speed of their coupling had increased considerably.
He'd honored her greatly by having her called to his room; such a gesture was usually reserved for a new bride or the great
royal wife. He kept his cheek pressed to hers as he moved, his breath heavy against her ear. No matter how many times he wished
to make love to her, she would submit; not only because of his authority but out of her love for him.
Rayet clutched
his back more tightly, opening her mouth. Ra grasped her sides; he drove into her strongly but steadily. She listened to the
tempo of his panting, the tempo of his strokes inside her. "My Brother, My Lord," she whispered to him, breathlessly; he pushed
and released and she cried, "Majesty!" as his fluid heated her inside. With a moan she sank back, trembling. As she
lay panting, exhausted, once more she felt the familiar touch and spreading warmth as Ra again banished the tired ache from
her body. She drew him to her again gratefully. No matter if he should wish to have her again that very night, she would accept
him.
Enter subhead content here
|
