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Amir knew of the jealousy that floated around her very presence. She had started as nothing more than a minor deity, a Jackal who had been portrayed in one painting amongst the hundreds of the more well-known gods and goddesses. At first, there was no momentum to the solitary picture, though the man who she had appeared to treated her as a muse, as a Goddess, as a creature of such divinity that he nearly lost his mind simply from looking at her.

It was a nice feeling, the worship. It was something that she'd never experienced before, having lived in the shadows of her brother and sister gods and goddesses for so long. She had been a nothing, and they'd let her know it each and every time they passed her way; of course, they didn't even bother to do that very often.

Something had started to change though -- Amir didn't notice it at first, other than an odd sensation pulsing and pouring through her body. It was a tingle, and then a wave that crashed through her nerve endings and made her very essence vibrate. It was only after she realized that her very power and makeup was changing that she took the time to check in with the canine male who had painted her picture.

He'd shown it to his friends -- they'd demanded their own copies. They'd shown it to their friends. They'd sculpted busts, they'd spread her image far and wide, and suddenly a name that was known to no one other than a lowly painter was spreading like wildfire all along the banks of Egypt.

She was something.

Amir had never felt so powerful -- her mind had never been filled with a voice before, and suddenly she could hear dozens, and then hundreds. They were all calling her name, all praising her and worshiping her for what she was; for how beautiful she was.

They were praising her for the voluptuous curvature of her frame that none of her brothers or sisters truly seemed to possess.

Amir passed from being more than a mere deity to a Goddess -- the Goddess of Lust and... well... the jackal was a Goddess of Ass. Not just any ass, though -- the biggest, and the best. People far and wide knew of her posterior, and they built monuments to it until her image was on each street, and her brothers and sisters finally took notice to the fact that it wasn't just their names being called out to the sky.

There was a certain, smug satisfaction that resonated through her with this knowledge. Their power waned while hers welled up inside of her, spilling over until she hardly knew what to do with it.

She knew that soon the others would come after her -- they could hardly tolerate her growing presence threatening their very way of life. Even as they delayed though, the people of the city built a shrine to her; unlike her absentee brothers and sisters, Amir came to sit on the great throne that they constructed for her. She wanted to revel in the sensation of the mortals worshiping at her cheeks.

And they came in waves of lust-filled desire, incapable of staying away, hardly able to stuff themselves into her temple fast enough. Amir was lavished with gifts, with offerings, and with their lust-filled touches. She denied her following nothing; she came to all fours gladly, allowing canine, feline, avian, and reptile alike to bury their face between the mounds of her cheeks, to smother themselves in the sensation of her presence until they left, high on the experience and bursting with orgasm and adoration.

Every individual that passed through her chamber and knelt in front of her throne bestowed her with more and more power -- and it happened so quickly that even the Gods and Goddesses who envied her didn't realize what had happened until it was too late to quell that swell that was Amir's presence.

"What do you think you're doing, Amir?" Isis' voice was the first to call out, a booming noise that sent Amir's followers scattering to the edge of the throne room. The spread of the winged cloak that she wore was a flurry of color, but Amir didn't shrink back from her sister and she stalked forward. "This is not your place -- you overstep your station."

For the first time, looking into her sister's kohl lined eyes, Amir didn't shrink away. She didn't attempt to avoid that piercing stare. Instead, she drew herself up from her throne, letting the sweeping of her slitted robe flourish around her. "No, you overstep yours."

And there was a moment of silence, because Amir had stepped over a line that she would never be able to take back. You didn't simply talk to Isis in such a fashion -- you spoke to none of the Gods as though they were lower than you... but to the jackal Goddess, they were. She could feel it just in the way that power radiated from her.

Her eyes surveyed the area in front of her; they'd greatly underestimated her. Only four of her siblings had come to confront her -- Bastet stood, leaned against the doorway with her feline eyes narrowed. Amun-Ra was glowering, a few steps behind Isis. Hathor was making her way to the throne, her face filled with anger and rage as she looked around her; of course, she had probably never had such a following as Amir did on this lazy afternoon.

"You can't do this, Amir. You aren't one of us." Hathor's voice was full of the fury that was causing lines and wrinkles on her scrunched face. Instead of simply answering her, Amir took a step forward and brought her arms up to shove her sister. She didn't expect it, and the bovine fell to the ground; in three quick strides, she stood over her sister's shoulders... and in one smooth motion, she brought her body down so the cow's visage was encompassed in the curve of her rump.

"I can do whatever I want, don't you feel it?" She wriggled her body, and beneath her, the cow struggled. Isis and Amun-Ra stared on in horror, momentarily too shocked to step in and help their sibling. "Can't you see what I've become?"

The flailing beneath her body slowly quelled, and then hands came up to wrap around her thick thighs, fingers digging into the meaty flesh until they indented inward. Hathor's face rocked back and forth slowly, her muzzle digging upward until she completely smothered herself in the pillows of her sister's frame. She held tight until finally, her entire body gave a heaving shudder beneath Amir's thighs... and the jackal knew that she'd won this particular battle.

She stood, leaving the bovine to reel in the wake of the orgasm that she'd just experienced, and as she brought herself to her feet she felt a new wash of power; it was strange... the mortals had given her so much, but to be worshiped by a Goddess was something altogether....

Unique.

And she was being worshiped -- she looked down to Hathor's face and saw the reverence in her sister's gaze. There was no denying the fact that she was just as enraptured as the ones who had built this temple for her.

Amir felt a swell of desire, and her eyes shifted raptly to Bastet.

She wanted more.

The feline could sense what was happening -- it was her pride alone that kept her standing there. She'd just watched what had happened to her sister; she knew, maybe better than Isis and Amun-Ra did, that this venture was folly. This was not the Amir that they remembered. The jackal walked with a grace that she hadn't possessed before, spurred onward by the wind of her own essence.

She was well and truly their equal. Bastet could do nothing more than to stand her ground, her eyes going wide as Amir stepped forward until she stood only inches from her face.

"Will you fight me as well, Bas?"

There was silence between the two of them for what felt like an eternity; their eyes remained locked, and some unspoken contest seemed to be reigning between them in the quiet of the room.

Bastet's eyes widened for just a moment as Amir leaned in further, and in a quick motion, the feline dropped to her knees. She was proud, but she was no fool. She knew when she couldn't win -- she knew that it was better to cave and live to fight another day than to be cowed into submission like her sister.

"You always were more clever than our sisters." Amir's voice was soft and smooth, and she leaned in long enough to run her fingers through the black, silken fur on Baste's head. For a moment, the feline's eyes rolled back in her head as the power that rolled through the jackal dripped into her senses.

It was intoxicating.

She came to all fours, watching like a feral as Amir turned to Amun-Ra and Isis.

"You've had your fun, Amir. It's time to stop with this game." Ra's voice was full of disapproval, and Isis glowered furiously behind him. She'd been yelling at Hathor on the ground to have some dignity and get up, but the cow simply watched Amir with a new reverence that had never existed before.

The jackal never stopped her stride as she came to her brother and sister, and they didn't pause or back down like Bastet had. Instead, they stood their ground as she stepped towards them, and continued with their icy stares as she came to a halt in front of them.

"Do you think that you can take us both on?" Isis arched one brow, haughty and still full of confidence. The expression only stumbled for a moment when Amir smiled. After a moment of looking at the smug grin on her features, Isis couldn't help herself. "What?"

"I may not be able to take you alone, but... I'm not alone, am I?"

So fixated on their sister had the two been that they hadn't noticed the fact that the crowd around them had moved. Bastet and Hathor had positioned themselves behind the two, and the crowd that had pressed to the walls were behind their legs. Amir raised one arm, slicing it down through the air... and the crowd of worshipers surged forward.

The God and Goddess, who had been so accustomed to being in charge, who had been so used to no one standing up to them and questioning them, had no defense against the swell. They were dragged to their knees, pinned to the ground. Between the strength of the anthro worshipers and the two sibling deities that held them down, there was nothing that they could do but struggle in a bound and held heap on the ground. Only after she had watched them struggle for a few moments did Amir step forward; her hands gently tugged at her robe, until she pulled it from her body, revealing the rotund mounds of her ass in all of its glory.

"Brother," she faced Ra with a sweet smile. "Sister," her gaze turned to Isis. "I know that you don't think you will give in, but I promise you before this day is over, you will worship just as all of the others have.

"You can't do this, Amir, I am Isis! I am a Goddess, and you are--" But Amir was already lowering herself, her soft ass covering Isis' now muffled shouts of protest and signaling the beginning of the end of an era. From the day forward, all would worship one Goddess, and one only.

Amir: The Jackal of Lust, and the Goddess of Ass.