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Onyx in the Dunes

Part 1: Discovery

>Be (You), an archaeology student in Egypt

>Got lucky with some grant money, and got a spot on an excavation in the Valley of Kings

>Working on your unit one day, when you suddenly fall through a big hole

>Find yourself 20ft down in a stone room, fine save for some scrapes and bruises

>A bunch of the other people from the excavation look down at you from above; no one has any rope or ladder long enough (because this sort of shit only happens in movies, right?), so it'll be a while before you can get out

>Decide to do a little exploring before anyone else can to kill the time

>Everything in the room is on a slightly raised platform, and there's a few passageways heading off into the dark

>There's some sweet grave goods, all in great condition

>Pottery, precious metals and stones, wood chariots and totems

>There's even a huge bed, and the reed mattress is still intact from the cool, dry desert air

>Strange part is, you can't find a sarcophagus

>Even stranger, the only writing you find is at the base of the raised platform

>Your ancient Egyptian is rough, but you can make out something about tithes, and offerings, and --

>Hold on, that can't be right.

>It looks like they tried writing 'Anubis,' but messed up the last two symbols. Closest translation is 'Anput.'

>Typos in hieroglyphics are impossibly rare, so maybe there's a pharaoh or lesser god with that name

>Hmm

>Wait a minute, there WAS one with that name!

>A counterpart or permutation of Anubis, mentioned briefly in various translations

>You let out a laugh, then a sigh. Your thesis was going to be on the chronology of scarab symbols, but you're gonna have to change it now

>Then you hear a deep, rumbling voice; you turn around and see an enormous, jet-black jackal woman looming over you, her ears scraping the ceiling

>Her loincloth and bra-thing are a blinding white, and look to be from the period of the Middle Kingdom

>You think she said "A mortal? After all this time?"

>You stumble over your words; your spoken Egyptian is even worse than your written

>"I see no offering but yourself. Very well. Prepare thyself; it has been a great many years..."

>She waves a hand, and the hallway behind her lights up

>Your stomach is still fluttery when she turns, revealing that her loincloth is just as skimpy in the back

>She takes a few steps before realizing you're not following.

>"Why do you hesitate, human?" she asks; then her nose twitches.

>She comes back to you (still frozen), and picks you up under the arms like a weightless plaything

>Which, being less than 6' to her 12-15' you suppose you are

>The goddess sniffs at you, her huge eyes a little cold as she looks you over.

>"I see," she says. "You hurt yourself on your way here -- which reminds me."

>She shifts to hold you in one arm, sort of like setting you on her hip. But instead of a faceful of jackal jug, you feel it on the back of your head.

>The goddess again waves her hand; the braziers of the offering chamber light, but this time there's a rumbling sound.

>Your eyes go wide as you watch the rubble you fell in on disintegrate into sand, then stream back up to the ceiling, filling the hole.

>The jackal huffs, then starts down the hallway.

>...with you still in her arms.

>You're trying to figure out if you're actually dying of heat stroke when she shifts you in her grasp again.

>NOW you're getting a faceful of jackal jugs.

>*Giant Jackal Jugs.

>**Giant Goddess Jackal Jugs.

>It's when she presses on the back of your head that you realize it's not a mistake.

>She says something, and shifts aside the pearly cloth of her overdecorated bra.

>You decipher what it was as she pushes your face into an onyx nipple.

>"Drink, mortal," she said, "I will mend your injuries so you may serve me."

>You try to push away, but her breast is sinfully soft, her fur like silk and her flesh so giving under your hands.

>You hear her grunt with impatience; you give in, and part your lips.

>Her nipple fills your mouth, and she begins pumping your head against her with firm fingers.

>You let out a faint, muffled moan, the sensation of her furry breast bobbing against your face far too pleasant not to.

>When you find a rhythm with her, you begin to suck. Your hands grasp at her unconsciously, feeling her breast bounce as she pumps you against it.

>Her nipple is vaguely salty, and the light fur around the edges tickles your lips.

>The liquid that slowly begins to seep out, though, is slightly sweet. It's water, you realize, warm and refreshing.

>Each bob brings more into your mouth, delighting your tongue. You pinch her with your teeth, trying to draw it out faster.

>The goddess hums, and you can feel it in your chest.

>"Eager mortal," she says. "This bodes well."

>Then she pulls you away, setting you on the ground much to your displeasure -- she cast you down from heaven, after all.

>The goddess speaks to you with hands on her hips, her breast already back in its silken prison.

>"Your body is fortified; you can walk the rest of the way."

>She turns around and speaks again, her strides equal to at least four of yours.

>"It is unbecoming off a servant to make his Goddess carry him."

>Unbecoming or not, it's hard to keep up with her, especially with a rager in your shorts.

>Trying to flee the other way didn't even cross your mind.

>"Uhh, Goddess," you say, your words rough, "much has changed in the world above. The world has... moved on, so to speak."

>Her ears prick, but she doesn't slow.

>"We are not familiar with the... your customs. I'm hardly able to speak your language -- I apologize."

>"Words are not required," she says -- though you note she does so slowly. "Only your devotion, mortal."

>You try to speak again, but this time it's the thoughts in your head that trip you up rather than the foreign consonants.

>She ignores you, stepping into another large room; a bathing pool surrounds a small artificial island, a grand, silk-adorned poster bed taking up most of it. Light ripples on the ceiling, the air here warmer.

>"Shed thy clothes, mortal," the jackal says; her loincloth and brazier flutter silently to the ground.

>She enters the water, and you find yourself jealous as it creeps up her shapely, thick thighs and over the huge curves above that.

>She turns: if she has a problem with you staring at her ass, she doesn't make it known.

>"Come. Follow," is all she says.

>You try to ignore the sloshing water and tear off your clothes, ripping furiously at your bootlaces.

>It's so bullshit, you're in the goddamn desert.

>You should totally be able to wear sandals.

>The dripping of water on stone brings you back to the moment, far away from the dig site above you. You rush into the sparkling water, and quickly find yourself up to your neck.

>The jackal lounges on the bed, watching as you splash your way up the submerged steps. She sits up when you make it; you realize the floor here is covered in a mosaic, nearly face-planting into it.

>"Normally," the jackal rumbles, "you would prove your fealty by offering me your tongue, cleaning the dust and sand from my fur."

>Your eyes widen as you look over all that fur and the curves it covers; christ, even sitting her tits are higher than your head...

>Then she spreads her legs.

>"...But because you're the first mortal to visit me in an age, we... may skip right to the more intimate parts of the ritual, I suppose."

>Licking her clean sounds pretty intimate, but you're not going to turn down goddess pussy. You stride forward into the charcoal valley of her thighs with a confidence you probably shouldn't have.

>You're just starting to wonder about how the hell this is going to work when she puts a giant paw on your head.

>You're on your knees in moments, and your face is pressed into the soft, still sodden fur of her hood. The jackal's fingers rub at the base of your neck, and you feel your face slip into her folds.

>She smells of rosewater, and lilies.

>Face-deep into goddess pussy is not when you want to get performance anxiety, but get it you do.

>You've hardly gotten any action with normal-sized human women -- how the hell are you supposed to please someone with a vagina big as your face?

>"You may start any time, human," the goddess says, her words as tense as the flesh around your face.

>Her thighs, too. You start to rub them, trying to buy yourself time.

>Her fur is smooth under your hands, her muscles tight beneath a layer of padding. You work your way in, running the edge of your hands along the seam between her legs and hips.

>The goddess lets out a hum, two fingers hooking under your arms to pull you more completely into her warmth.

>What was that stereotypical trick? Spell their name with your tongue? Or was that just for the clit? You started off there, you think, but now it's probably above your head.

>Either way, just tongue isn't going to work when she's bigger than --

>"Enough pleasantries," the jackal says, pressing you harder into her slit. "Commence with the worship!"

>You improvise, drawing her name with your whole face and your tongue.

>She tastes like she smells, like sweet rosewater.

>Your hands don't stop, and you feel her thighs close around them as the jackal lets out a huge, husky sigh.

>Her other paw goes to your back now, making sure you can't escape.

>You don't really want to, other than to breathe; there are opportunities here and there, and your breaths of humid, scented air are gasping ones.

>Then her hips start to move against your face.

>She pulls you back soon after, and the feeling of air on your soaked skin is exuberant.

>You blink and rub your eyes, realizing that her chest is heaving.

>"Very... good, mortal," she says, scooting back on the bed. "Let us... finish..."

>She picks you up and sits you on the edge of the bed, still between her legs -- and then she scoots forward onto your lap.

>'Onto' stretches the term. Your lap is gone, your entire lower half disappeared beneath her thick, coal-black thighs and ass.

>Her palm cups your back, forcing you against the lower reaches of her stomach. You move to hug her as best you're able, your hands not even reaching either side of her waist as she shifts atop you.

>Her weight is immense, but soft. The bed's got to be made of some divine material too, for her not to have crushed you.

>You're immobile, left panting against her stomach as she glides your dick along her folds until it comes across something deeper.

>It practically pulls you in -- though that might just be her forceful hand on your back. Either way, the goddess lets out another huge, husky sound of pleasure, and begins to bounce.

>It's difficult to describe the sensations: 'lifechanging' alone doesn't do it justice.

>The feeling of her fur shifting against you, all of you.

>The feeling of her ass on your legs, soft yet firm.

>The pressure of her paw on your back, keeping you locked against her plush stomach.

>The sounds she makes, desperate and human.

>And the feeling of her divine walls sliding around you, squeezing and pulling, trying to draw every last drop of seed from you.

>It isn't long before she succeeds, your orgasmic cry drowned in her belly-fur.

>The jackal goddess gives you a few more good, firm bounces before she stops with a sigh. Then she contents herself with rubbing against you, back and forth along her slit.

>You're in a haze from all of it, letting out soft moans as you lean into her soft, warm fur. You barely register when she shifts you around again; all you care about is staying in contact with her with that fur.

>She says something, petting your hair. She repeats it, and you realize you need to translate.

>"Human, are you listening?"

>"...Yes..."

>"You caused much trouble coming to me," she says slowly; you're on your side now, you realize, and so is she.

>"You collapsed my roof; you drank of my breast; you admit to me you do not know what you are to do."

>She's holding you between her breasts, the two black mountains practically giving you a second hug all of their own as she stares down at you.

>"While your performance was... satisfactory, I believe there is still more that you owe to me."

>You know you should wake up more at that, but you don't care. She's soft, she's warm, she's holy.

>"Human?"

>"Yes, Goddess..."

>"Are you listening?"

>"M-hm..."

>Her chuckling goes right through you, the vibrations reaching down through your toes.

>"I will overlook your lies this once," she says, petting your hair, "for you bring me... amusement. Perhaps it is a consequence of these years."

>You nuzzle into her chest; she smells of clean waters and reeds.

>"To complete your service to me, mortal, you shall stay with me. Tell me of what has 'changed above,' as you say."

>Her bust bunches up around you as she squeezes, adjusting herself with a yawn.

>"...but first, we shall rest."

>You yawn as well; you've had a busy hour or two.

>You'll deal with the dig crew later.

>...and the potential of using your newfound Goddess as a primary source for your excavation report paper, too.

Part 2: Report

>Be (You), one week after falling into Anput's 'house.'

>Be sitting at your laptop, writing out your post-excavation report and grant proposal document.

>Decide "fuck it, I'm gonna write it in greentext, because who's gonna say no anyway?"

>[Blah blah blah, excavation stuff here.]

>[I know what you're all really here for.]

>When you woke up in the sweet embrace of a giant jackal Goddess, you worried you were hallucinating.

>Her fur was warm enough to make you suspect heat stroke, and there was always the possibility of dehydration.

>Then she shoved your face into her teat, and your worries vanished.

>She was real, if a bit warm.

>And you were very quickly hydrated.

>She kept you locked against her when you'd had your fill, and decreed that you would now 'fulfill the rest of your duties.'

>Somewhat disappointingly, she meant filling her in on the past couple thousand years.

>Your use of the language was pushed to its limit; summarizing world history is hard enough in your native language.

>The jackal Goddess didn't seem to mind, though. She stared down at you silently, a slight smile gracing her muzzle.

>She stroked your back idly as you spoke, huge fingers brushing through your hair now and then.

>You stroked her back, marveling at the softness of her fur and breasts.

>Keeping yourself on task was a slight challenge.

>Anput's occasional questions helped, as did the various troubles in translation. As you neared the modern age, you found yourself frequently saying "it would be easiest to simply show you."

>Each time she answered with a simple grunt and an order to continue.

>When you finally reached the modern day, she began to ask more pointed questions.

>About you.

>Where you come from, what languages you speak. Why it is you're studying the past, and what it was you were doing before you crashed down into her home.

>Those last questions made you stiffen.

>How long had it been since you fell down here? How long were you... 'showing fealty' to your divine hostess, and how long had you been asleep?

>The other members of the dig had seen the hole close up -- they had to be worried sick!

>The Goddess held you to her breast when you tried to scramble to your feet, commanding you to be calm.

>You told her your worries at her behest, explaining that the other archaeologists would be searching for you.

>That you had a duty to others besides her, as much as you regretted to admit.

>It didn't seem to make her unhappy, fortunately. She just sat up and pulled you in her lap, her jackal jugs resting heavy on your head.

>"You have served me well, mortal," she said, huge arms wrapped around you. "I shall return you to the surface. But only on the condition that you fulfill another task for me."

>"Yes, Goddess?"

>"You have proved yourself to be more than a meager offering of the flesh. What you have told me of the outside world... moves me. I would like to survey my kingdom, and I require a guide."

>The jackal spread her huge thighs, letting you slip down onto the floor. She turned you to face her with a single paw.

>"You will serve as that guide, human."

>You sat there for a moment, heart aflutter as she stood and walked straight over you.

>How the hell would you do that? You're a grad student, not a jet-setting millionaire! You could hardly afford the flight here to Egypt and back!

>The Goddess would hear none of your concerns, though, holding up a single hand as she crossed the pool to her discarded clothes.

>"I have decided," she said, the water magically rolling off her coat. "You would not deign to defy your master, would you, mortal?"

>"N-no, Goddess," you said, splashing after her, "but there are -- there are considerations that must be taken!"

>"I am aware of your limited human stamina," she said, clothing herself with a flick of the wrist. "We will take a chariot."

>You put your clothes on, not caring that you're wet. They'll soon be dried by the desert air, anyway.

>"I -- I don't know if there's a 'chariot' large enough, Goddess."

>She looked down at you with a slight frown, and slowly began to shrink. Soon she was only a few heads taller than you, rather than a dozen.

>"...Can you go any smaller?"

>"No," she said, starting off towards a corridor. "I am confident you will make do. Come, my guide -- your task awaits."

>You scrambled after her then, the jackal's pace leaving little choice.

>She returned to the offering chamber you fell into, and with another wave of her hand melted the stone into sand.

>A small staircase formed and solidified; you heard cries of surprise from your colleagues as the (slightly less) giant jackal Goddess made her way up to the surface.

>You followed, blinking away the bright sun and gasping at the heat.

>Someone called your name; the dig crew surrounded you and Anput, along with men in military uniforms.

>"Do not be alarmed," the jackal-woman said, "your Goddess has not returned out of spite. I seek to survey my kingdom, and see how it has grown in my absence."

>The crowd stays frozen and silent -- you notice a few glints of gunmetal now, as well.

>"Hang on a sec," you say to them.

>Then, to her: "Remember, Goddess, this tongue has fallen out of favor."

>"You will be my guide and translator, then," she says quietly, her power pose not shifting.

>"She says she doesn't mean any harm," you announce. "She only wants to... sightsee."

>Those words were enough for the armed commandos to stand down, and the other members of the dig crew to rush in with questions.

>Anput also had her fair share.

>Being the only one with any experience speaking ancient Egyptian, you were the only one that could answer -- or ask her the many, many questions the people had.

>The medical team tried to grab you, gushing about determining your condition, but the jackal's shout gave them pause.

>You soothed both sides; you weren't going to be long, since the... water in her home was magical, anyway.

>The Goddess resealed her sanctuary as you were lead to the medical tent.

>She was not pleased she had to stoop to get in.

>The exam itself took maybe 20 minutes. You sat there on the ancient padded chair for hours.

>The questions from both sides never seemed to end. Students, professors, officials, and locals all came to 'pay fealty,' as you put it to the Goddess.

>-- though you were quick to clarify you didn't mean with their tongues. Not the way she'd talked about.

>If she was confused by your blush, she said nothing. Apparently, Goddesses are above embarrassment when it comes to that sort of thing.

>She certainly didn't seem embarrassed when she stuffed her tit in your mouth, right there in the tent.

>It was a mistake telling her that all the talking was making you thirsty...

>When everyone calmed down, things resumed with a slightly different tone -- though the Goddess' didn't change at all.

>The topic of her underground sanctuary came up, and she declined to let anyone -- including the growing number of fancy-suited officials -- snoop about her home.

>The two of you retired there as the sun began to set as the crowd began to disperse.

>A field director pulled you aside for a moment, telling you they were already working on contacting various journals and grant organizations.

>Before you could discuss very much, Anput gave you a slight pull, picking you up as she grew back to her normal 13' stature.

>The depths of the jackal's lair were comfortingly cool and quiet, a sanctuary from the various gasps of amazement and endless questions.

>Even more of a comfort was the fact she wasn't disappointed by the fact you'd barely gone half a mile outside her sanctuary.

>"A good Goddess knows what matters are her subjects, not the land they stand upon," she told you, stroking your hair as the two of you lay together.

>Then she shifted atop you, reminding you that even if you're her guide and translator, you're still her subject.

>Her servant.

>And that you've still got to show your fealty.

>The rest of the week went somewhat similarly.

>You and Anput would make an excursion into the nearby city of Luxor, first on foot, then by 'motor chariot'.

>It took the excavation crew and the local officials a while to find a truck large enough for Anput.

>You found yourself glad to be the jackal Goddess' favored servant as time went on; increasingly ominous looking suits began to appear in the little entourage that followed the two of you.

>The jackal rarely let you stray farther than an arm's length, and never beyond her sight.

>Sharing her secure abode was nice, too.

>Not to say that all the people shadowing you and trying to pull you aside were bad, though. Many were members from historical or archaeological journals, trying to get a less frenzied interview with Anput.

>You even did a teleconference -- explaining how that worked to Anput strained your Ancient Egyptian to its limits.

>One of the faces from the call showed up again near the end of the week, this time in person.

>Mr. Zayne, of The International Archo-History Foundation.

>He walked into the tent as the day was winding to a close, wearing the same polo and slacks he'd been on the computer screen.

>The middle-aged man shook your hand and told you he had an offer that might sate everyone's interests -- including 'Ms. Anput's'.

>He flipped open a laptop and showed you pictures of a research vessel. It was large, and he explained he'd had the interiors remodeled to accommodate the jackal's reportedly immense stature.

>It was fully equipped to house a small team of archaeologists, historians, and assorted staff along with the crew -- and it could do so for months at a time.

>It even had a helipad.

>Mr. Zayne explained that he recalled 'Ms. Anput's' desire to see the world; this would be an excellent opportunity for her to do so.

>The boat would go anywhere either of you desired, and everything down to your socks would be paid for by IAHF funding.

>The only thing you had to do was translate and discover, and the only thing Anput had to do was provide interviews and answers to questions.

>When you said "yes," Zayne smiled and handed you the laptop, telling you to consider it a welcome gift.

>That's when he told you the ship -- *Abraham* -- was docked in Safaga, just a three hour drive away.

>And that he'd be waiting in the IAHF coach bus if you needed him.

>When you explained what'd happened to Anput, she smiled.

>"I knew you would manage, my most trusted servant."

>Be (You), one week after falling into Anput's sanctum.

>Be sitting aboard the Abraham at your laptop, the one Mr. Zayne gave you.

>You're just getting to the 'future planned projects' section of the grant proposal document when Anput calls you.

>"Human?" she says, "I think I have decided where you shall take me next."

>You cross the room to the bed. The jackal Goddess lounges on it, staring up at the large screen with a world map on it.

>She points up to Pakistan and India, circling a little.

>"This is where the traders of Lazuli you spoke of were from, yes?"

>"Yes," you say. "It'll be a long trip. Should I tell the captain we have our first destination?"

>"Yes, let him know," she says, laying back in her bed.

>"And human?"

>"Yes?" you ask, standing in the doorway.

>"Return to me promptly. I require the expert worship, the kind only the tongue of my most devout servant can deliver."

>You sigh.

>This is going to be a very tiring new career.

>But it certainly won't lack in excitement.