OrcishBarbarian
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 28, 2006
- Posts
- 706
For about eight years, the statue had stood proudly in Brett's Book Bonanza, a secondhand store selling new and used books, vinyl records, and miscellaneous knick-knacks and oddities. The yellowed price tag on the statue was a cool $2500. More than once, Brett had been told he was mad to think anyone would part with $250 for such an eyesore, let alone two and a half grand. "Hey pal, the 70's are over," one wit had said.
But Brett didn't budge. He was a disabled Vietnam vet, who had hit a jackpot at a local casino to boot. He had better than four grand a month in settlement income, investment income, Social Security and military retirement. Brett had $226,000 in the bank, plus a four-bedroom home in the Crystal Heights that had been paid off since 1995. He really didn't give a fuck if the statue ever sold. The bookstore actually had lost a few hundred last year, but he owned the building so he didn't care about that either.
Despite his wealth, Brett never lost the common touch. He would shoot the breeze with his poker buddies, go fishing in his old Ford pickup truck, even patronizing the Hooters down the street. He could talk about model airplanes and yards passing and war stories for hours on end. All while that statue seemed to watch over the store from its post at the end of the Military History bookshelf.
Which brings us, I suppose, to the statue itself.
The statue stood six feet six inches tall. It was made from obsidian, jet black stone. The choice of materials was strangely appropriate, considering the statue was of a Nubian warrior-prince. The carving was surprisingly life-like. No detail, from the curls of the man's hair, to his fingernails, to his navel, to his rippling muscles, to the noticeable male bulge under the short kilt-like fabric wrapped around his waist...no detail had been spared by the sculptor.
Brett had acquired the statue in a game of poker with a Navy file whose bluff had been worse than his bite. The seaman had in turn gotten it from a shop in Cyprus. And none of them realized the true origins of the statue...for at times truth is stranger than fiction, and this is indeed one of those times. If any of them had known...
The statue had in fact not been commissioned by a British lord freshly returned from East Africa back in the 18th century as Brett had always believed. It had in fact been carved by a Nubian prince, around the time Romulus and Remus were coming of age. It was the kind of ancient art that an antiquities director at a museum would cut a one million dollar check for without blinking, because it happened to be among the best pieces of ancient Nubian art in existence...anywhere. It had been captured by Egypt, then placed in the Library at Alexandria...ironically, in a section containing scrolls about warfare.
It had been taken as booty to Emperor Nero's palace. It had been captured again by Visigoths, then sold to Arab traders, captured by a feudal lord, then taken back again. For seven centuries it had languished in the basement of a vintner in Sicily, then discovered by a Mafia family and displayed on his estate. Then it had been sold to a collector who took it back to Cyprus and died almost immediately afterwards, there to gather dust for three decades until his grandson unearthed it during an estate sale, right about the time the U.S. Navy frigate had docked and the seamen had mingled with the locals.
But all of that history, which alone could be the plotline for a best-selling novel or the subject of a doctoral dissertation, was but a footnote compared to the statue's real peculiarity. For the Nubian prince who commissioned its creation was no ordinary man, but rather a sorcerer who sought eternal life. And not a good sorcerer at that...but a rather evil--many would say depraved--man. In a ceremony involving dark incantations and sacrifices, his soul was transferred into the obsidian statue.
Aged beyond human understanding, he has gained the power to leave the statue...if only briefly and in noncorporeal form. For now. What he seeks is sexual fulfillment...both for his own pleasure and to gain power. Whether the female involved is willing or not matters little to him. For as he feeds from sexual energy, he grows more powerful...until the day will come when he can return to the living...
The story will begin when a female...or a group of females...wanders into Brett's Book Bonanza, sees the statue, and decides to pony up the money. They will then take the statue home. Then, little by little, Prince Nkembe will reach out to them. Strange events will occur...seemingly trivial at first, but growing harder to ignore. He will then grow a little stronger, bolder...more corporeal...and come to dominate the females.
You can post your character concepts here...I picture it could be a family, maybe roommates, etc.
But Brett didn't budge. He was a disabled Vietnam vet, who had hit a jackpot at a local casino to boot. He had better than four grand a month in settlement income, investment income, Social Security and military retirement. Brett had $226,000 in the bank, plus a four-bedroom home in the Crystal Heights that had been paid off since 1995. He really didn't give a fuck if the statue ever sold. The bookstore actually had lost a few hundred last year, but he owned the building so he didn't care about that either.
Despite his wealth, Brett never lost the common touch. He would shoot the breeze with his poker buddies, go fishing in his old Ford pickup truck, even patronizing the Hooters down the street. He could talk about model airplanes and yards passing and war stories for hours on end. All while that statue seemed to watch over the store from its post at the end of the Military History bookshelf.
Which brings us, I suppose, to the statue itself.
The statue stood six feet six inches tall. It was made from obsidian, jet black stone. The choice of materials was strangely appropriate, considering the statue was of a Nubian warrior-prince. The carving was surprisingly life-like. No detail, from the curls of the man's hair, to his fingernails, to his navel, to his rippling muscles, to the noticeable male bulge under the short kilt-like fabric wrapped around his waist...no detail had been spared by the sculptor.
Brett had acquired the statue in a game of poker with a Navy file whose bluff had been worse than his bite. The seaman had in turn gotten it from a shop in Cyprus. And none of them realized the true origins of the statue...for at times truth is stranger than fiction, and this is indeed one of those times. If any of them had known...
The statue had in fact not been commissioned by a British lord freshly returned from East Africa back in the 18th century as Brett had always believed. It had in fact been carved by a Nubian prince, around the time Romulus and Remus were coming of age. It was the kind of ancient art that an antiquities director at a museum would cut a one million dollar check for without blinking, because it happened to be among the best pieces of ancient Nubian art in existence...anywhere. It had been captured by Egypt, then placed in the Library at Alexandria...ironically, in a section containing scrolls about warfare.
It had been taken as booty to Emperor Nero's palace. It had been captured again by Visigoths, then sold to Arab traders, captured by a feudal lord, then taken back again. For seven centuries it had languished in the basement of a vintner in Sicily, then discovered by a Mafia family and displayed on his estate. Then it had been sold to a collector who took it back to Cyprus and died almost immediately afterwards, there to gather dust for three decades until his grandson unearthed it during an estate sale, right about the time the U.S. Navy frigate had docked and the seamen had mingled with the locals.
But all of that history, which alone could be the plotline for a best-selling novel or the subject of a doctoral dissertation, was but a footnote compared to the statue's real peculiarity. For the Nubian prince who commissioned its creation was no ordinary man, but rather a sorcerer who sought eternal life. And not a good sorcerer at that...but a rather evil--many would say depraved--man. In a ceremony involving dark incantations and sacrifices, his soul was transferred into the obsidian statue.
Aged beyond human understanding, he has gained the power to leave the statue...if only briefly and in noncorporeal form. For now. What he seeks is sexual fulfillment...both for his own pleasure and to gain power. Whether the female involved is willing or not matters little to him. For as he feeds from sexual energy, he grows more powerful...until the day will come when he can return to the living...
The story will begin when a female...or a group of females...wanders into Brett's Book Bonanza, sees the statue, and decides to pony up the money. They will then take the statue home. Then, little by little, Prince Nkembe will reach out to them. Strange events will occur...seemingly trivial at first, but growing harder to ignore. He will then grow a little stronger, bolder...more corporeal...and come to dominate the females.
You can post your character concepts here...I picture it could be a family, maybe roommates, etc.
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... char decription below
