Canopic Jar
Canopic Jar
Jack never thought he was the trouble making type.
Seriously. He got top marks in all his classes, high praise from his lecturers and he never did any of the Major D's - Drinking, Drugs and Door-to-Door salesmen. He was solely focused on his career that he didn't even have a girlfriend!
Hell, he was even a virgin.
It said something about him when all of this was added to the fact that he was a mildly unattractive, scrawny little bookworm with thick glasses that could be mistaken for telescopic lenses with acne so bad that his face put the Pacific Ring of Fire to shame. In essence, he was your stereotypical, first year under graduate student from the United States of America doing a course in Egyptian History because he wanted to be just like Howard Carter and discover some ancient tomb somewhere, receiving world-wide press coverage and a permanent place in the annals of history...
... not to mention dying of a 'curse'...
But, one permanent black stain on his name would be this, one particular night.
Why?
Because he was stuck cataloguing Ancient Egyptian artefacts because he had accidentally - emphasis on 'accidentally' - fallen asleep in class. An assignment needed to be handed in on that day and he had spent all night working out the kinks and making sure it was perfect.
Jack was a stickler for perfection. Not entirely a 'perfectionist' as such but still one who tried as best as he could to be as perfect as possible. It was a reason why he hated his own body. It was far from how he saw the 'perfect man' was.
In his mind, the perfect man was tall, handsome, muscular and was well-endowed.
That said, his search for perfection often got him into trouble. Such as his constant failures in art class during middle school simply because he could never be satisfied with anything he drew or the fact that he often openly criticised his teammates when he was out playing sports during gym classes back in high school. And here, at university, it deprived him of sleep...
... sleep which he needed to keep awake during Professor Roswell's lecture...
... a lecture that eventually got him in the back of the university, shuffling through ancient relics all by himself, in the dark and with no help.
On the one hand, it was an honour to be one of the few people to actually get to handle the artefacts by himself. On the other... It really was a punishment. Professor Roswell didn't take to kindly to anyone talking in class let alone sleeping. Probably the only thing that saved Jack was the fact he was the top student in the class.
He had the sneaking suspicion Professor Roswell had intended to get him to help catalogue these artefacts earlier on but after that particular incident where Jack was caught snoring in class... Roswell probably organised it so he could do the job alone and in the dark instead of supervised and with help.
It was a lose-lose situation if Jack didn't do the right thing.
If Jack didn't get the job done... he was screwed.
If he broke something, he was screwed.
Either way, Jack was stuck here doing the work an entire team would take days to finish.
With a heavy sigh, he returned to his scribbling and sorting. Most of the objects were wrapped in tiny plastic bags with complex labels on them. It was Jack's task to check the labels against the manifest he had to make sure that it was correct and nothing was missing. On top of that, he was to take photographs of each item and stick them against labels on the computer when he was done.
Basically, it was a lot of running around.
The artefacts weren't even that interesting. Nothing near the value of Tutankhamen's Tomb or some ancient, forgotten, pharaoh's tomb. Mostly just small shards of pottery, bits and pieces of hieroglyphics and the occasional little statue or something else alone those lines.
Except...
Jack inclined his head to the side as he picked up what appeared to be a sealed vase of some sort. Unlike the rest of the artefacts, it wasn't sealed in a plastic bag but it certainly appeared Egyptian in appearance. It was a small, wooden jar with hieroglyphics carved into the sides. The stopper for the jar was shaped like a jackal's head and it appeared to be sealed by thick, black pitch.
It appeared in a Canopic Jar... One of those jars that ancient pharaohs used to store their internal organs in. What baffled Jack was that it this was a Canopic Jar, then it was a very important artefact! It should be in the British Museum not here rotting amongst the broken pieces of pottery and faded tablets!
An idea hit him.
The jar obviously wasn't catalogued anywhere yet. If he could do a detail analysis on it and document everything about it, he could submit it to Professor Roswell and he'd get credit for effectively documenting the discovery! Hell, he could be credited for discovering the jar even if it was just in the back of a university!
It was a prospect too tempting to pass up.
Jack glanced around and noted that he was indeed alone. The work he had done would be sufficient. He would just explain that he had spent the entire night examining the jar thoroughly and had stopped all other work. It would seem selfish but Professor Roswell admired initiative more than anything.
So, picking up all his things, Jack carefully placed the jar into his bag, cushioning it between his books to make sure it wasn't crushed or broken. Quickly, he hurried out of the university and to his parked car. He was bouncing in the driver's seat as he drove all the way back to his suburban home where he lived alone. His parents were off caravanning all over the country leaving him alone to fend for himself.
Not that he minded.
Not when he was on the verge of 'discovery'.
He would get so far ahead of the rest of his classmates that he would not only redeem himself in the eyes of Professor Roswell but possibly get offered a research grant... or maybe a scholarship... Maybe even an invite to prestigious universities and research organisations if he did a really good job with his findings!
Jack leapt out of his car, rushing straight through the door and heading straight down to the basement where he had an amateur lab set up for just an occasion. His parents had laughed at him when he had insisted he transform the basement into a little sanctuary of science. They indulged him but he couldn't wait to see their reactions when they realised that their little joke had helped turn their son into an historical superstar!
With the lights flickering on and off for a few seconds, Jack flew down the stairs and set down his belongings on the table that had a variety of examinations tools arrayed around it one of which was an enormous magnifying glass. He set down his bag and opened the zipper, taking out the jar and holding it in the light almost reverently.
Once the lights stabilised, he set down the jar on the table and pulling out his magnifying glass. With one hand, he booted up his computer as his eyes were transfixed on the slightly faded hieroglyphics on the surface of the jar. He was no expert on the script but he had a vague understanding about it. It was hard to miss the name 'Anubis'.
Which made sense. The Ancient Egyptian God of the Underworld was often depicted as a black jackal and used in many Canopic Jar designs to help safeguard the internal organs of the dead as they passed into the afterlife.
The rest of the hieroglyphics were too hard to make out except for one section that he interpreted as 'seed'.
With a shrug, he turned to his computer and booted up the program he had built himself to take down his notes and arrange them in the proper form for submission. His eyes never left the artefact as he carefully picked up a small brush and began dusting the surface of any grime. It was still a wonder how anyone could've missed it but Jack just considered himself very lucky.
Hell, he even wondered if Anubis was looking after him in this case.
Chuckling to himself, Jack began examining the jar more closely. He ran a small metal probe along the rim of the jar, testing the black substance. Oddly enough, it was still sticky. He had expected it to be hard and immovable. As he poked it, his probe sank into the substance and when he gently pulled it out with a steady hand, he was surprised just how adhesive the substance was.
It wasn't possible that something so ancient contained anything more than dust.
Jack wondered if the black substance was like pitch or tar. Entire skeletons had been preserved in tar before. It was entirely possible that there was a liver or the remnants of a kidney hovering somewhere in the goo. Not for the first time, he wished he had an X-Ray to discern what was inside the damn thing.
Of course, he could always open it...
He shook the thought out of his head.
He was a student of history and archaeology. Doing something as foolish as opening the jar was breaking all the rules of his chosen profession... But... Then again, he would be the first person to see the contents of the jar in over two thousand years... And first and foremost... he was a man of science...
Science was a never-ending quest to find answers...
... and right now, he was asking the question 'What was in that jar?'
Jack reached for the little stopper shaped like a jackal's head. There was a second where he hesitated... But he pushed that aside and gripped the stopper firmly in his gloved hands. He gave it a hard yank, expecting some resistance. The stopper came off easily much to his surprise.
He was instantly hit by an odd aroma... A little like male musk mixed with the scent of wet dog.
It was extremely strong and he coughed as it kicked up his allergies and caused him to sneeze. Shaking his head free of the scent, Jack set the stopper and jar back on his desk as he continued his analysis.
First, he opted to examine the stopper head... There was a part of him that considered it was probably the biggest mistake to have exposed the air-tight substance to oxygen but he guessed that if it was indeed tar or pitch, it would survive. He turned to his computer and began typing in his observations about the stopper head alone...
Crash!
He snapped back towards the jar and his jaw dropped open.
"Oh no..."
The jar had slipped off the table and lay in ruins on the floor... the black pitch-like substance crawling everywhere.
Jack's stop had practically stopped.
This was the worst thing that could possibly happen!
What had started off as a fantastic - albeit selfish - discovery had turned into his worst nightmare! A piece of Ancient Egyptian history lay in pieces at his feet with its contents pooling around his chair. In his mind, the jar was Professor Roswell's skull and the black goo was the blood of the man he respected the most. To make matters worse, Roswell was staring at him with accusing eyes.
"Oh no... Oh no..." he gasped, starting to hyperventilate.
Instincts took over and he instantly jumped off his chair and began picking up the pieces of the jar, desperately trying to rearrange them. The black goo was everywhere and it was sticking to his hands and knees as he tried to reassemble the jar. It was getting everywhere and he growled as he tried to wiped it off on his pants but to little avail. It just stuck there.
A new thought entered his mind...
The jar was never in a back... it hadn't been documented yet...
He sat there staring into space for a moment as he realised things might not be as bad as they first appeared.
"If it was never catalogued..." he began softly, staring up the stairs. "... then that means it was never technically there..."
He felt awfully dirty and deceitful thinking about it but if Professor Roswell even got a hint of what he had done, the body lying on the ground with its skull cracked open wouldn't be the Professor's.
"Alright..." he murmured, coming to a resolution. "This never happened."
But first...
"Gotta get rid of the evidence..."
Jack turned to his hands and winced as they were completely covered in the thick, black substance. It was dripping everywhere, all over his clothes and all over his arms. With a sigh, he wondered how he'd get rid of it and resolved that he'll just have to scrub really hard and pray that would be enough.
It was funny... the small jar didn't seem to have been big enough to contain so much of the goo...
The first step was to get to the bathroom and wash himself off. Afterwards, he'd have to find some way to clean up the remaining substance on the basement floor. Maybe it would be enough to spread it out thin enough that it would appear to have been some sort of new layer of cement or asphalt.
He tried to rise to his feet...
... but found himself firmly stuck and unable to move his legs.
"You've got to be kidding me..." he groaned.
This was just too much!
He was sitting with his knees firmly planted on the ground by the black tar! There was no phone nearby and there was seriously no chance of escape! The prospect of starving to death down here while firmly planted on the ground filled him with dread. What made things worse was that odd dog-musky smell was starting to make his head spin.
Glop.
"Huh?"
He glanced down at his arms where he thought that odd bubbling noise had come from.
For the second time that night, his jaw dropped.
The goo had somehow migrated up from his hands all the way up his arms! It had completely consumed his hands and had crawled up the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt and was crawling up his forearms! He could see it shifting from underneath the fabric of his white shirt!
"This... This can't be!" he cried, desperately trying to claw at the goo and to rip it off his arms but his fingers just spread the goo more and more. Oddly enough, the flesh contained by the goo was filled with a burning sensation like a thousand tiny hot brands were piercing into his pores and getting underneath his skin.
Jack felt that same heat start to crawl up his legs and he glanced down to see the black tar seep up his pants legs, completely ignoring the fabric and slipping down into his shoes and up his legs.
The substance was almost alive!
He screamed in horror, crying for help even though he knew no one could hear him. His cries died in his throat when the black goo suddenly gathered together in a puddle in front of him, forming a bubbling pillar of darkness that rose to his eyelevel. At the same time, the rest of the substance continues to crawl up his limbs, consuming his thighs and tickling the edges of his groin while crawling past his shoulders and completely encasing his torso beneath his clothes.
The bubbling mass in front of him twisted and reformed, taking the shape of a big, black, jackal's head with empty, black eyes.
"Oh god..." Jack gasped.
He could've sworn the jackal creature smiled as it leaned forward and wrapped its slimy lips around Jack's. His eyes went wide in shock and horror as the creature kissed him, a gooey tongue slipping into his mouth and exploring every space of his mouth. Wherever that tongue went, that odd, heat rose and Jack was damn sure it was leaving that black goo in his mouth.
Suddenly, the tongue slipped down the back of his throat... and shoved deeper, slipping further and further making him gag. Jack tried to scream but what came out was a loud bubbling as the jackal creature's features wrapped around his completely encasing him in its black expanse but leaving his eyes exposed.
Jack could barely breath and the molten heat had completely encased every inch of his body and was starting to spread into his insides, pumping through his veins like burning lava. Gurgling a scream, he found his legs were free and he staggered to his feet. Every movement he made pumped more and more of the black substance into his body.
Desperation overtook him as the heat began building. He clawed at his face, trying to tear at the goo on his face. His fingers found oddly firm perchance on the substance but when he tried to pull it off, the goo merely transferred over to his hands and healed over the patch on his face. Unable to scream beyond faint gurgling, Jack widened his eyes as far as they would go when he saw his hands starting to expand, becoming large and big enough to crush basketballs in a single grip. Black claws were pushing out beyond the tips of his fingertips, growing as each second passed as his fingers grew broader, stubbier... giving his hand an almost... paw-like appearance.
Some semblance of logic entered his mind and resolved to get to the phone and call for help.
He took one step towards the stairs and let out a groan - which translated to a faint bubbling - as an electrical current of strength and pleasure shot up his left leg. Jack was feeling oddly aroused by the sensation. With all the heat building up around him and feeling that jackal pulsing inside him, he was starting to feel incredibly amazing.
But he ignored all that... He had to get to the stairs...
Jack managed to take another step. The gesture shot even more euphoria through his body and his will collapsed for a second and he shuddered. As his body shook, he felt the raw power flooding his veins pool into every muscle and bone. His shirt suddenly felt abnormally tight as his chest pressed hard against the fabric and his shoulder threatened to tear through his shirt. His thighs pulsed with new life and strength, pushing against his pants. The shoes he wore felt terribly constraining like he had suddenly outgrown them and he wanted nothing more than to kick them aside.
However, he told himself that was the monster - whatever it was - talking. He had to call for help... Get someone over here to wash the junk off him before it completely took over. He could feel it seeping into his mind, filling his head with thoughts of giving into the transformation and succumbing to the amazing, comforting and arousing heat building all over and inside his body.
He fought back and took another step.
Rrrrrip!
His legs suddenly surged outwards from his pants, ripping the fabric completely to shreds and sending the shards in all directions. Buttons embedded themselves in the walls from the sheer force of the blow. Jack suddenly felt dizzy and his legs gave way as his toes pushed out from his shoes, ripping clean through them and his socks as they broadened and lengthened.
He could barely think straight anymore as the head became overwhelming and all consuming. His eyes were fixed firmly on his feet as his toes became stubbier just like his fingers and took the semblance of paws. His attention was quickly taken away from his feet by a deep pulsing in his calves. Jack gawked a she watched them balloon in side, becoming broader than even his feet. They pulsed with new life, veins pumping to life against the black flesh. While his legs were pressed firmly together, his calves and thighs soon changed that as they inflated to ridiculous proportions and pressed them apart.
Scrawny, twig-like legs became huge and muscled so much so that Jack began doubting if he could actually move anymore. His thighs were so big that they pushed well past his hips and he was forced to almost sit on a splits-like position even with them still firmly pressed against one another!
A groan escaped him as his shirt burst open and his blackened chest burst out. Mighty pecs that bodybuilders would be jealous of grew out in front of him, building in mass and strength. At the same time, his abdomen produced large, bouncing muscles that spread so far and so big that his hips vanished under the combined masses of his thighs and rock-hard abs.
The last vestiges of his shirt were thorn away as his shoulders shot out to either side of him, pulling away from his head and growing into enormous, large, rounded muscles. His arms pumped with new mass and his biceps bulged with new life, rounding out to match his enormous pecs. Forearms that had been so thin they could've been snapped like pencils became encased in rock-hard muscles with a lattice of pulsing veins crossing over them to match the rest of his body.
Jack felt an odd tugging on his face that built into agonising pain balanced by the pleasurable, euphoric head that was still building in his body. He let out a cry caught halfway between sheer bliss and agony as he felt his face stretch forward and his ears forcibly migrate to the top of his head. His cry wasn't muffled by the black pitch-like substance anymore and he could taste the air and feel his breath rush out of his growing muzzle as new, sharp fangs took the place of his omnivorous teeth.
New scents, sensations and sounds filled him as he felt his ears transforming into sharp, triangular dishes, his nose become a firm, black, powerful device of sniffing and the black pitch-like substance take on a new texture. Jack could hear his own groaned and moans of pleasure as well as the cars zooming across the street two blocks away. He could feel the cool air against the fur that the pitch starting to become. Most of all, he could smell that same, doggy-musky that was coming from his own body.
And he found he liked it.
It was his scent... His arousal...
Finally, it seemed that his entire body grew upwards to compensate for his added muscle mass. He felt his legs lengthen slightly and his torso stretch upwards just enough to expose his groin. A grin crossed his canine features as he glanced down and watched the last bits of the transformation take hold of his pride. A big, canine cock began building up towards him, the enormous, black member rising towards him, becoming thicker than his arms combined and rivalling a full-grown man in height and breadth. It maintained it human features, retaining the thick, mushroom-like glands but it was completely jet-black and covered in veins big enough to match bear cans.
Jack watched one particular vein pulse and followed the flow of blood from the base of his enormous, furry balls, up the length of his titanic cock and to the tip of his pre-cum-spewing cock. Copious amounts of the clear substance was dripping from the head of his monster member, dripping all over his body and soaking him more and more in that same, manly, doggy scent.
He loved every moment of it.
He growled in pleasure as he ran his hands over his body, feeling the rock hard pecs, the firm, tight abs and the veins that pulsed against his thighs. He couldn't reach his calves and he was fairly sure he'd have trouble fitting through the door and walking but he didn't care. He was a monster with a monster cock and the only thing he wanted to do was to fill the entire basement in his cum.
For a second, Jack glanced at his computer screen and grinned at his own reflection, seeing the jackal-face and the bright, yellow eyes that stared back.
"Hmmm... Yeah..." he growled, grabbing his enormous cock. His right hand ran the length of his member while the top massaged his glands, coaxing himself into release. A body that would be the envy of every man moved and undulated with so much muscle as he leaned forward and reached out with his new, flat, canine tongue, licking the tip of his cock.
The salty taste mixed with his scent drove him wild and he wrapped as much of his lips around his member as he could, moaning as he ran his hands up and down his cock, feeling those pulsing veins and thick, hard walls of his own member.
Jack curled his toes and moaned as all the heat in his body became concentrating down into a single location - his cock. His balls jiggled, filling with semen yearning for release. He pressed his mighty pecs against his member, rubbing the titanic rod against his first torso and slipping it between the clefts of his pecs to add to his sensations. Feeling his member rub against his washboard abs made him shudder.
His pre-cum became thicker and saltier. As his cock squirted litres and litres of the substance, he noticed that the clear liquid was flecked with black, tar-like blotches. He grinned and increased the pace of his strokes, pumping long and hard. The heat building in his body became terribly overwhelming, so hot that he was sure it would've melted metal.
Jack's balls tightened and his cock suddenly went rigid.
SPLAT!
A torrent of cum powerful enough to destroy walls shot into Jack's muzzle and he took the first blast down his throat, tasting his own saltiness and seed wash down his throat, filling him more with that molten desire. He was pushed away from his cock by the second blast as it shot towards the ceiling and burst through the wooden roof and into the lounge room. It made a large dent in the roof of the ground floor.
Jack roared, shaking the entire basement as his entire body was wracked with spasms with one, two, three... five... ten... twenty blasts of his thick, black semen. All the time, he was squeezing his dick, pushing every last drop of his beautiful, delicious seed out of his balls.
He fell back... his fur sticking to the pool of black, pitch-like cum that had collected around him and was dripping down from the hole in the wall above him.
A grin was constantly plastered on his face.
Now he understood...
The jar... The jar had contained Anubis' seed...
The seed of the Jackal God of the Underworld...
... and now...
It was his seed.