FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Thanks to WhisperingForNothing for his character design and support! If you like him, then go ahead and support his girlfriend, Macaronneko, too!

---

The Curse of Lustful Eyes

One:

The Seven Prophecies

---

I still search my palms to ensure I'm still me. Unbroken, poignant; fur and flesh of She who reigned as Queen of death through cross and bend of time. My form: a jackal, eight feet tall, black as Nile's soil. Carnelian eyes, crook and sceptre crossed. These are features-but they are no longer Me. Now, my body is short and thick, wet with gold, sweat-ah! -such succulent limbs, bare and sultry beneath this hidden sun. The leg brace chimes with each step, dripping with passion; an audience answers its call. How their decadent skin licks its cannibal lips for a false lover. How trapped they are in ecstasy, just as they knocked thrice my chamber-and how they choose to remain forevermore; to be choked from bracing arms and legs of their true Goddess. It is a tale of meaty thighs, crossed to clutch a cataract of secrets; beneath, a lock succumbs for those who hold the key. A tale of splits and spills of a drooling waterskin cavern; a tale of Trust and Scrutiny's dining room, and the fluid that runs from their mouths! Faltered by none, tongues buried in holes cry out in inexplicable feeling: Anubis! Goddess of Death, Embalming, and Sex! Kindred, our bodies align-and thus, became the new Me. _ _

It began in a special place. A land reserved for only those who passed the Scale, and whose mortal shell presented overwhelming gifts to their great Goddess. A soul which juxtaposes life and sacrifice. They'd latch my paw and dive into the perfect recreation of Egypt. Cynopia, where heat was not a threat, where hands would never have to get dirty, where endless peace exists yonder golden teeth and arrowhead. Peace. Glory, peace! Ah, what pride! My heartland, Cynopia: a land of splendor beyond comprehension.

All was good when I emerged from my Chamber, and onto the plateau, whose form was an upside-down ankh high above this endless desert. In spirals, the mudbrick houses bustled small and in between, and the limestone pyramid temples yonder widow's peak stacked with their every mortal desire. The air is cool and timid, as the sky's two upside-down blue triangles stay luminant, while the center triangle resides in its darkened orange form, waiting for its moment to spread heat once again. All was silent. Their robes were white dots heavy with passion when I arrived. Their Goddess, whose opal-sapphire beaded shendyt gleamed as did the golden crescent hiding her chest, was a pillar to the Eye of Ra herself. Her irtiu bracelets and anklets softly hissed: the bottles of nighttime skies; and they, too, were in awe. They know what will come is what has come before.

Arm high, I snap my fingers, and a beastly rumble throttled the ground. In seconds then slithered and curled and flourished the vines, all scattered with bulbs of onions, durians, peaches, watermelon and grapes. The linen farms sprout to their glory years and crane outside the wooden fences. Next, the tumult, and a barrage of anticipating drips. The river that circles this entire land had erupted, rushing its gift between houses and vines, up to their ankles to wet the tails of their robes, here to nourish all life once again. They dip their waterskins and rejoice. A feast for all, and all is one.

It was all good. Everything was good. I repeated the mantra:A Goddess is one, and a Goddess is all.

And yet, something was amiss.

I descended the stairs, each step revealing a new wrinkle, detail, approach. It was unlike me to investigate this land. I saw etched symbols dug into the walls of the main meeting halls; something of a bird, a cross, an X, and more. The marketplace sprang between the chipped pillars, and beneath their bowing mercy, a single crack in the stone. Perhaps this was not out of the ordinary. Yet, I...

I could not ignore it. I ran to my temple atop the largest dune, up each massive step to my room. I focused hard, peering deep into the future, until the images pummeled and clawed at my pupils until I screamed and opened back my eyes.

Cynopia in ruins.

This vision was hazy. Ordinarily, I would see all, but it all corrupted in a certain time. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

_ _ So I walked.

I walked where the great sceptre sliced the sand for water to run like blood in the neck. Out from an everlasting storm: the single Palm Tree. Its leaves shivered, bend accumulating to the top as if it would be a circle in its final year. All behind it, a harkening plumage of shadow that beaded indigo cubes and faded as they graced the ground. Its coldness strikes beneath my ribs as I approach.

The air clamps its icy fist on my lungs and throat and pulls. Not a threat, but a message..I watched the Palm Tree's great tuft sway. No breeze to be felt. And when it swayed opposite to the Nile's current, I spoke.

"O, great Tree, I do apologize for this imprudent encounter. But against all expectations, I am weak. It is a confession of shame that draws its claw against my back. I pray, dear Tree, heed my call, and make sense of this impending tragedy."

A hum in the deep had awakened. A single leaf plucked itself from its spine and fluttered. As it touched sand, the rumble in the deep ran through my legs, until it reached my head and thrived. The pressure on my head built. I wanted to run. I clenched my fists instead, locked my arms: No. I mustn't.

You wish to imbue yourself.

"Yes, dear Tree."

Few things could describe this sensation. The realization that this Tree had eyes, and they were always watching. The feeling of seeing yourself enter seconds before, and seconds after, wrapped in a thousand illusions. Goosebumps take control. Perhaps dear Tree foretold this encounter, as well.

Hold still, dear Goddess. Do not be afraid.

Sunlight be damned. I bowed my head as the light faded to a bleeding emerald, pulsing its vicious shadows like drops from a tilted roof. My vision spiraled, a force dragging down my eyelids, and my fur felt like rubber. A thick roughness gathered upward from toe to leg to hips. Agonizingly calm, my joints calcified like mudbrick, except for my jaw: the only thing that It allows to move. When all was still, its voice was music:

You are aware of Chaos, Goddess?

_ _ "Yes."

Then you are aware that it shrouds your vision. I see it clearly now. It is a dark one, indeed. In due time, Cynopia will be in ruins, at the hand of your own people.

_ _ It was as if my thoughts were a broken, childish stammer.. "And when shall this happen?"

The only place it can. At the limit of infinite power.

"So it is what I have feared. The people cannot stand the rule of a single creator. They usurp a land they cannot understand."

No. It is not your character. It is your nature. You are ignorant of these actions, so you jump to conclusions. You estimate from a philosophy based on your own. And though they follow it wisely, no acolyte shall stay their noble self. You must overcome your arrogance and surrender your eyes to the will of the people.

_ _ It wants me to see their perspective. "I see. I agree with this."

Very well. Such knowledge is usually forbidden. You understand this, Goddess?

_ _ "I do."

Very well. There are seven steps to the corruption of a Goddess. They shall not change, and they shall not be mis-arranged, but they will always result in the fall of your beloved Cynopia. Listen carefully, Goddess. Everything you know shall depend on it.

_ One: Boredom. The day when infinite fruit and satisfaction turns to dissatisfaction. The nature of Man to search for something greater in place of what they know._

_ Two: Sentience. The realization that this "new" replacement does not exist. No matter how hard they search, they will never outdo paradise. Tragically, they will always keep searching to quell the misery lying in wait, and such ventures will reward them with nothing. As true pain sinks beneath their realm of understanding, their aggravation mistranslates to humiliation._

Three: Talk. As more become sentient, they discuss amongst each other. They talk of gripes, woes, petty gambles and fruitless hardships, until finally they discover they have one thing in common: their desire for reconstruction.

_ Four: Silence. Suddenly, they realize what they are doing. They cannot desecrate this holy land, and they are ignorant of the consequences of an angered Goddess. So they cease all action. Cynopia will act as identical to before the process began. But it is a facade. For this woe is a thorn that they cannot ignore, and it has been running alight since time would tell._

_ Five: Intent. The talk commences once more. They are smarter this time. Just loud enough for a cult to turn to an army. And all shall join the part once they've submitted to such projected agony. There is no way to communicate their unruly desires. Their only choice is through demonstration._

_ Six: Destruction. Temples fall. The sky is filled with debris. You scarcely believe it, but it is happening before your eyes. You snap and give them food, but they destroy it, as well, convinced they can make something better. And that's when they storm your temple on the mountain, overwhelming it in numbers. You are well aware you could fight back. But, because you are their protector, your morality prevents you from doing so. So they lock you in a cage. Thus, the limit of infinite power._

_ Seven: Death. An end to all that is known. To you, it means nothing. To them, it is the fall of their great empire. Inept of its true laws and form, the ground collapses beneath them, falling into a bottomless pit, each fragment ever sheared by the passage of meaningless time. And you, dear Goddess, remain locked in a cage, falling forever with them, until in a final surge of emotion, you choose to let them go...ah, yes...at the snap of your fingertips._

_ _ For the first time in eons, I shuddered.

"I am," with a recollecting pause, "afraid. For I cannot protect them from themselves."

Then you must violate your own morality.

"No. I see that future, as well. The red sector rains blood. Doubt, mistrust...the destruction of Cynopia. The process is the same."

Then why had dear Tree suggested this?

Very well.

_ _ I thought about ways to end a certainty. Ordinarily such malice would conjure a token of happiness, be it structure or mind. But that solution has fallen into a paradox. And so I searched for something else. Something I could give that does not involve objects or mental pulses. What must I give them other than a paradise of security and pleasure?

An idea flashed through my soul.

And with it, the Pulse began.

No, I thought. It couldn't be that.

But the Pulse would not cease.

I sense something new in you, Goddess.

_ _ I was hesitant to say. Its warmth somehow dug a cavern for itself inside this cold shell. This impossible feeling....

"It is unbeknownst to me, as well. But I have an idea. If you so kindly take my inquiry."

Speak.

"Is there a way I can reverse this uncertainty?"

"Reverse" is a word. "Alter" is another. There are many timelines, Goddess. Do not choose incorrectly.

Darkness collapsed to light beneath my frozen eyelids. As my joints refilled, I reached out, and ached, seeing nothing but the Palm Tree, swaying in the opposite direction. A great dread crossed my soul. As the Tree bid its adieu, the rumbles beneath my flesh ticked the rest of my limbs into place. The light had fully returned, and the cool waters rolled once more. Though all I could think was how confused I was.

When I returned to Cynopia's heart, it did not look the same. Come nightfall, nothing seemed real. How I long for those days of such ignorance! Now I know things that no goddess should ever know. The limits of infinite power do not come from the blood. They come from the mind. The writings on the wall show their work in progress. This is not Phase One, then. It mustn't be.

Silence. That was their phase. If that is true, then there isn't much time. I had nothing to offer them. No pleasure to conquer the pain, except...

And then, the Pulse started again. It knocked thrice, then a fourth; how uninviting. A wondrous fly delivered its delicate wings for a moment and passed. Look. Listen. It whispered: "Patience," in a dirty croon. An idea so heinous, so profound, I should have ruled it out entirely. And yet as these days and nights now melted together as one, the stronger such urges became.

There was only one solution.

____

Morrow's reach did cry like a vulture's slamming gate. All my people woke to find the newest limestone pyramid, furthest north of town, where a golden ring spun atop a spire and let its adorning chimes cling and play their dashing hymns. The crowd of all Cynopia's people gathered at the bottom, awaiting their Goddess. As she stepped forth, a golden dress flowing as if it was linen, high heels of diamond slipped their eyes beneath it, and her voice boomed with passion as her steps ceased:

"Good morning, my wondrous citizens! By principles of Ma'at, to express my gratitude is simply impossible. I love you all as descendants of godly form. But as careful ponderance dictates, I must confess that I have failed you. As mortal hands craft their kindly imperfections, it struck me that Gods cannot avoid the same fate. To construct a Heaven for one would be to diminish its glory for another. I know you are tired. I know you are frustrated and anguished. I am sorry if this land has turned its ugly face. Therefore, I hereby present myself as of yours. I may have your peace..." I unhooked my dress, "and you may have this, in return."

With that, I let it fall in crumples. The crowd was aghast. Some dropped to their knees in worship. There, I presented myself in a beaded dress whose woven gates hid no secrets. The open air graced my naked skin, as if hands themselves, worshiping every inch of my body. I felt their eyes upon me, their furious gaze of a thousand lustful memories; and a curious drip ran down my hot, limber thigh. I was nectar, and they drank me in.

"And yonder ringing bells, through the chamber of this temple, your Goddess shall be lying in wait! Legs apart as her supporters demand. For when these bells ring, your Queen desires to be used. All may enter, though I ask only one is allowed inside the chamber. This is my decree."

Palm to the sky, I turned to the chamber. "Come, now! Those who wish to bed their Goddess, you may do as you must. And in return, there shall be peace. Peace from man to woman, and peace for all eternity."

A mouse's chime when I expected a roar. Dread surged once more. I feared I had given them too much to digest. The steps echoed, a crick in the blocks ringing louder. And soon it opened to the chamber inside, with a single, white mattress in the middle, adorned with its bronze bed frame, shining from every face. Infinite torchlight filled the room. Sweet smelling roses scattered from the vases to the floorboards, and the air was hot with love.

I lay down, comfort immense, and at once, it dawned that I was inept of these actions. Intercourse is an act of humanity. Where shall I start? I did not know, so I spread my legs; the first of all actions. Yet no one came down the corridor.

Perhaps they do not accept my gift, I thought.

Waiting was agony. It was an hour before footsteps were heard in the hall. A dark man, timid as chattering teeth and quivered lips, a hesitant grip on the threshold bricks. His sand-touched white coif contrasted with his robe as if a storm had passed just above him, a black headband dangling its tail by his ear.

I beckoned with one finger. "Do not be afraid."

He approached as if I were a snake with venom dripping down to the bed sheets. A shuddered gasp; tight digits and knees in agreement, as all but his wandering eyes were still.

"Speak, now."

"And what of our piety, dear Goddess?"

I rubbed my fingers together, bending my legs and spreading them out. "No matter. Think me a Goddess, the form you've acquainted with, but think now as an offering. And your name?"

"Cyrus, my lord."

"Cyrus." I beckoned once more. "Come."

The rising tent from his single garment was clearer as the inches between us swallowed to dust. As he disrobed, he flustered; though I did not know why. Here, I presented myself bereft of modesty, as if merely a slave. Yet he trembled with unworthiness. He mustn't regret this. The temple bricks shuddered and clanked at the boom of these words:

"Your Goddess commands you to bed her."

His hesitance brought him stiff, soft, a backwards step.

"Pace yourself."

His breathing slowed, and we both felt the room grow warm. Beneath it cried a third entity. Ah, how lovers meet entwined within. The Pulse, rising once again.

His wandering grasp discovered my legs, and-ah! His long, hard length; a key that would know a tight embrace. It raged a shock that splashed my face with sun; I suppressed a shriek, and the pain was done. The pleasure raged, hips warm, stiff nipples-an experience unmatched over all before it! A sudden rush at my cheeks, my thighs flexing with it; and they shifted as he gripped upon them. I was never aware such love could be so filling.

"Harder," I ordered.

The taste of his obedience covered that of his passion. How soft smacks against me; warm oasis drippings on the bedspread as a veiny fist would to a peach. Rumbling deep, in the same place of it, the Pulse, getting faster!

"Harder!"

I had to feel more. I flexed my legs and wrapped them around his back to beg for more. My tightness gripped around his warm length made me crippled in desire.

"Harder!"

On tides of breath and sweat, I could feel his exhaustion, but he was not one to disappoint his ruler. Every flex and heave and ho upon his tired soul, he murmured something high and sweet. Rocking plaps against my flesh had ceased, and with quivered moans, he let all his desire out inside of me. At once, his mind and body collapsed as his face landed onto my bosom.

He stammered, "I'm sorry, my-"

"You are forgiven, dear Cyrus. Oh, how truly wonderful you are."

And in my reverie, I breathed with him. Connected with this humble exchange. I felt the muscles in his back, indulging in his body as he did with mine. The gasps and breath upon my chest. And the Pulse that lay beneath it, which sounds just as mine.

My Heart.

The Pulse was my Heart.

I had no idea I possessed such an organ.

"My Goddess..."

At the doorway, three more lovers had appeared. The shadows of other takers crowded behind him.

They were not allowed. Not until Cyrus was satiated.

The sundial's guided arm expelled an almanac of visions, voices, sounds, feelings; a touch of new as one had graced its edge before. I learned nothing but the feeling of hardness, hot and bursting wet with pleasure. One after another, until the bed was wet with love, my golden eyeliner was molten across my cheeks, and all were satiated. My grace, and my Eyes upon them; I wondered how such connections could be forbidden. Perhaps the Gods themselves had made a mistake.

And soon, none were left. My body tingled in pleasure unknown; none of which I could comprehend. Cold serpents left the trails that usurped the feeling of warmth. In silence, I discovered its meaning. By altering fate in such forbidden ways, my visions of the future were bloodied and smeared. I tried to uncover a decade. Nothing. And a year? Nothing. And a single day? Nothing. Even a single minute brought nothing. No visions of revolution. No predictions of my reputation. There was nothing I could do to predict what would happen next. All that remained was me.

The beginning of the end,

and the end of the beginning.

---

If you like this, why not support me on Patreon? Also, no promises on the deadlines of this series, since it's difficult to write and kind of a moral backflip in conjunction with my fanfiction polls. This was in production before my Patreon existed, and I always wanted to write some historical fiction erotica!

Thumbnail: Anubissss by WhisperingForNothing