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The jackal wiped his brow. Even with the portable AC, the tent he and Rashad had set up was still stuffy in the desert heat. He pulled his head up from his notepad, noticing that he was alone almost immediately. It was hard to move around the cramped tent when the feline's hulking frame was around. In comparison, Arno looked like a bunch of popsicle sticks strung together. He wasn't that skinny, he often told himself - he had enough muscle to tough it out in the constant 38° C days, so maybe the tiger was just making him look bad.

Arno told himself he wasn't going to let Rashad get another head start on exploring the tomb without him, but it looked like he had slipped out mid-morning without the jackal noticing! Clad in white and armed with a pack of archaeology tools, he exited the tent and looked toward the pyramid they were stationed by. It was rather small and hadn't been touched in quite a few decades - all the more reason to do another scouring for anything previous visitors had missed.

They had looked over every inch of the few upper chambers yesterday, so the tiger should've headed downwards this time. He took out a flashlight and shined it down the hall, feeling the rush of excitement at exploring a place filled with history from thousands of years ago.

The shaft went down quite far for a pyramid of such small stature. After walking for a minute or so, examining his surroundings carefully, he came to a turn in the shaft. A short hallway opened up into what looked to be a royal chamber, with a large, intricate sarcophagus laying in the middle of the room. Rashad was nowhere to be found, but lining the walls of the room were other sarcophagi, and curiously in the corner of the room was a small opening that looked like the tiger could just about slipped through.

"Rashad? You even down here?" Maybe the tiger had actually gone in the upper shaft anyways.

But something caught his eye from the small opening in the corner of the room - it looked like a flicker of fire. That didn't make any sense - the tiger wouldn't recklessly light anything up. Was there someone else down here?

"Hello?" He pointed his flashlight at the opening, slowly approaching it. He could hear something rustling on the other side. "Rash, is that you?"

A muffled grunt and a clank piqued the jackals interest enough for him to poke his head through. What he saw, he could not have prepared himself for.

Just like the previous room, this one was lined with sarcophagi with a large stone slab in the middle - it must've been some sort of embalming room, and in the flickering light of the mysteriously lit torches, Rashad was bent over it, linen bandages covering his muzzle and forcing his arms over his chest. The bandages had seemingly come from nowhere, appearing out of thin air and attaching themselves to the big cat.

"Mmmphhh!" Though frightened, Arno ran over to his colleague and tried to pry the bandages off of his chest. Another bandage wrapped itself around one of the tigers legs, pulling it off to the side. Rashad threw himself away from the new gauze, but it did nothing to help him and just threw Arno off balance.

"Stay still!" The jackal tried to keep himself from panicking. This was unreal, this couldn't have been happening! Another bandage wrapped around the tigers other leg as Arno tried to rip at the linen around his muzzle instead. It actually gave way and for a moment the tiger could speak.

"Run, Arno! Get help rif-mmmpphhh, mmmppphh!!" Arno stared in horror as the bandages straightened back into place, preventing him from speaking. They then continued to wrap around the tigers head, covering his eyes and ears in seconds. They kept wrapping even after the tigers head was encased in the strong fibers, adding another two layers to the struggling feline. He could only see an outline of his colleagues facial features now, depressions where his eyes were, ears just sticking out, a small amount of stretching where his jaw moved as he cried out for help.

In his shock, the jackal did not see the linen creeping around all four of his limbs until it was too late, and they took him by surprise when they tightened around each limb. He pawed at them, trying to swipe them off but finding them almost sticking to his skin. One bandage wrapped around his neck, and he heard the faintest whisper enter the room.

"Master..."

"Woah, no! I'm not anyone's master!" The linens continued to wrap around his individual limbs, snaking under his shirt and ripping it apart with surprising force. He yipped - what kind of crazy magic were these bandages?

"An offering for master..."

The jackal looked over to the stone slab, Rashad bent over it. His pants had been torn apart like the jackals shirt had, and now he was awkwardly trying to keep his tail over his asshole, a near impossible feat as it lashed back and forth to avoid the striking bandages. "No, no! I don't like Rashad like that!"

His struggling was getting him nowhere and the wrap had nearly covered his entire body, short of his head. Without warning, the bandages on his legs pulled him toward the vulnerable feline. His tail was caught suddenly by a ribbon of cloth, wrapping itself tight around the tip and yanking it up, pinning it to his back with more wrappings. Meanwhile, the linens had gotten inside of Arno's pants and were fishing his dick out of them carefully. "Woah, no! No-" His muzzle was quickly shut by another lengthy roll, encasing his muzzle from its base to his nose.

"Please Master, accept this offering."

What kind of servants were these people? They weren't listening to a damn thing he said! His arms were outstretched and pulled by the magical bindings, making him feel like a zombie in an old hollywood movie for just a moment. If only they realized how on point they were with all the mummy tropes...Well, maybe minus the forced offering stuff.

Arno tried to move his feet in any other direction, but he was magically pulled toward the bent over tigers pucker. The linens circled his dick, massaging them in an alarmingly comfortable way. Before he knew it his dick was rock hard, and he felt some force push his rump forward, urging him to enter their 'offering' - his struggling colleague.

His forearms were slapped onto the slab, each one pressed against the side of the tiger. His hands - the only thing he could really move freely - tried in vain once more to tear at the tigers bindings. But it seemed that somehow, the gauze had become inseparable, keeping the tigers arms wound tightly over his chest. He looked down at his own wrap. The gauze around his torso hugged his fur and covered it so well he couldn't see any when he looked at himself.

Struggling against the forces that wanted him to fuck the tiger only netted the jackal more bindings - this time, they wrapped around his back and Rashad's chest, forcing him to just about lay on top of the tiger. Now there was no wiggle room at all, his modestly sized rod rhythmically poking at the tigers hole. There was no avoiding it.

Through the layers of linen, he uttered a muffled apology - "Sorry, Rashad..." The big cat seemed to get the hint, groaning in defeat. Trying not to think about what he was doing to his colleague, he let the strange ribbons take over, his cock entering the tigers hole with a bit of resistance.

Rashad only grunted as the jackals cock carefully pounded his thick asscheeks, each time getting further and further in. Arno yipped, feeling guilty at the carnal pleasure he was being given at the expense of the felines tight hole. His hands gripped at the tigers midsection, the one area of the big cat still untouched by the wrap. He traced the set of washboard abs hidden beneath his fur. Rashad was a very muscular guy, and if he was having trouble getting any of this gauze off, then they were both screwed...

He moaned through his gagged muzzle, a bit louder than he would've liked , pounding away at the striped ass beneath him. Rashad shifted and struggled below, a whine escaping his mouth, joining in with the jackals yips and groans. He humped with his whole body now, feeling the linens around the two of them tighten, forcing him to stay further inside of the tiger. And with pleasure starting to mount in his loins, he wasn't forced to do too much - squeezing and feeling up the tiger with what little movement he could, Arno pressed himself against the cats sprawling back and went straight to pound town.

The tiger yelped as the jackals tempo increased. His head turned to face him, but all Arno saw was the outline of a face covered in gauze, the muffled voice behind it crying out in confusion. Arno closed his eyes in response. 'Maybe if I cum in him, they'll let me go...' If just one of them could get out of the tomb, that would be great.He felt gauze wrapping around the tigers torso now. He tried to keep them away but they were ridiculously strong and sturdy, and once they wrapped themselves around the tigers fur they were practically immovable...They stuck together as if there was some sort of magical glue connecting them.

Would they be stuck here forever...? His humping grew more frantic. The tiger had given up on struggling, letting his colleague ram into him with vigor that the tiger didn't know he had in him. Arno's moans grew louder and louder, but little noise actually escaped the layers of linen. He tugged at the wrappings around the tigers arms, his head arching back as he felt himself bust into tight, feline asscheeks. He let out a louder yell this time - his muzzle pried apart just enough so that the moan could be heard over everything else.

Arno shot rope after rope of jackal cum into the exasperated tiger beneath him. He saw stars in his eyes as he held himself close to the mummified body underneath him, the two of their grunts dying down. As his orgasm petered out, he felt the linens pull him off the tiger - softly first, and then suddenly pulling him to the ground. From the stone cold floor he could see the aftermath of his romp with Rashad, the fur on his behind matted and leaking cum. He watched as the fabric actually lifted his legs upward. He flailed them, but they continued to pull him entirely onto the yellow stone slab, and then rolled his body over.

The whole time he was struggling, the jackal noticed more and more wrappings striking at the tiger, subduing him further. His legs were now individually wrapped, as was his midsection and package, sporting a stiffy through all the bandages. He tried to thrash his legs but they were quickly wound together from the footpaws, the linens winding themselves up higher and higher. At this point the only visible part of the tiger was his tail which flicked as much as it could, but in all the struggling it was stuck against his left leg and soon it too was gone, lost in an increasing amount of gauze.

All the while his thrashing and pleas for help got him nowhere. Arno watched with dread, his legs fixed in position. He tugged at the bindings on his muzzle, trying to call out for his colleague - not that it would do anything.

"Rashammphph..." Every time he pulled at them, they just snapped back into place a little tighter, the pressure on his muzzle rather intense. He didn't notice the rest of his limbs being wrapped as he was so focused on the scene in front of him.

Rashad was now fully cocooned head to toe in gauze, his hands over his shoulders in the classic mummy position. His encased form wriggled, still trying to find any give, but it was futile. A sarcophagus against the wall slid open, the stone lid making a scratching noise that bothered Arno's ears. The tiger's form was dragged off of the slab and into the coffin with little resistance, unable to do anything other than scream.

Arno meanwhile, was now being pulled to the slab himself. He couldn't fight even the slightest against the magical forces, and he watched as his fingers and then paws were wrapped and forced into position across his chest. His legs were then wound together just like the tigers were - he tried to struggle but he was being bound with such speed that it felt useless to do so - every layer was a little more force that made it harder to move any inch.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught the tiger in the sarcophagus. He barely fit in the stone monument, with only inches of wiggle room on either side. His cries were silenced as the stone lid slid back into place.

The jackal lifted his head up. The linens were continuing to wrap around him, climbing up this neck and going over his muzzle once more. Something shifted around his groin - the bandages were sliding over his cock, exciting it once more. No wonder the tiger had a hard-on! He struggled one more time in earnest as gauze wrapped around his cheeks, slowly covering up his vision. "We're done for..." Who knows how long it would take for rescue to come? And even at that, who's to say the rescue wouldn't end up with the same fate?

He heard another stone lid slide open and he was dragged off of the table, his feet hitting the hard ground with a thud. He felt the back of his head press up against the cold wall of the coffin. Through the gauze he could still see the flickering light of the lit torches, but even that fell away as something metal pressed around his skull and muzzle. He couldn't see it, but a smooth, dark stone mask in the shape of a jackals head had been placed on him - it was a replica of who the pyramid was originally meant for, not that Arno was able to know that, or particularly cared anyways. The stone lid slammed shut and his cries only echoed back and forth in his comfortable, confining prison. The ribbons of cloth gently teased the jackals member and his cries turned into resigned moans as his dick strained against its prison.

If he were to listen closely, he would hear the tiger making the same noises.