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>Be (You).

>Amateur archaeology student turned global controversy.

>Turns out not only are furry God things being real is political, but them only being from certain religions is also political.

>Zayne had the Abraham double time it back down the Indus to the ocean. And when you got there, the crew was headed for the middle of the pacific.

>After you sent out your reports of course.

>It wasn't just the Pakistani's that were upset, though they were why you ran. All sorts of religious types were getting in on the debate now.

>You laughed when concerns of 'private ownership of religious deities' came up.

>If only they knew.

>Despite all the negative press, the discovery of Shashti attracted plenty of new investors and new interest. If there was any worry about funding before, it was certainly gone now.

>Grants and rewards for new equipment, projects, and excavations were rolling in so fast your mailbox could barely hold them.

>You take another sip of your margarita.

>Not your problem at the moment, thankfully.

>Until the media shitstorm can be weathered, and Zayne's team has reworked their logistics to accommodate 2 size-changing Goddesses, you've been put on mandatory vacation.

>The next destination had been Turkey, but the boat was rerouted to somewhere in MesoAmerica.

>You don't even know where you are for sure.

>All you know is that you're supposed to relax, keep a low profile, and do absolutely no archaeology.

>You turn and look at the pair of giant furry women next to you, soaking in the sun.

>One of those things is going to be a bit easier than the others.

>Anput shifts and cracks an eyelid a hair; Shashti doesn't even move.

>"I'm going to the cistern to cool off," you say.

>The jackal Goddess grunts and relaxes.

>It was difficult to explain what was going on to the two of them. Anput was fairly resistant when you did.

>But listening your lectures about the modern world on the beach while being waited on by Zayne's hired help soothed her displeasure. It's what both of them are used to, you imagine.

>That, and being outside of the confines of a boat or carefully laid out dig means they can 'stretch out,' so to speak.

>You look back at the two of them as you climb the rough path to the cenote: the jackal and tigress cover the entire stretch of beach, their feet partway into the ocean. Their the tips of their bare breasts have to be a story off the ground or more.

>Taking measurements of their 'maximum' size might be useful for the logistics overhaul, though you'll have to spin it as something else to the two of them. You don't think there's a boat big enough to handle them if they were always this big.

>...Nor do you think you could.

>You give a nod to the private suit standing at the little hut near the mouth of the swimming hole. The fact Zayne has all these guys and this private resort raised some alarms, but you're not going to question it. He hasn't fucked you yet.

>He's been very generous and helpful, in fact, and hasn't forced very much on you.

>You walk out onto the diving platform and stare down into the sapphire water.

>It's beautiful , crystal clear. You can make out the crags of limestone far below perfectly. The sunlight casts rainbow across it all.

>You walk back to the hut and grab a mini-tank and mask, prepping them with some water so they'll seal. It feels like gear out of a Bond movie, as a lot of your tools have.

>15 minutes of air is more than enough to explore the small cenote, and it's a lot nicer than an entire scuba rig.

>You pull on some fins, tighten your mask-straps, and pencil-dive down into the blue. The cool water is a welcome relief to the tropical sauna topside.

>The hiss of the tiny oxygen tube fills you with that small sense of wonder, breathing underwater.

>You swim along the limestone crags, circles and ripples carved soft by millions of years of erosion. The whole scene is lit in a dazzling rainbow pattern. You turn and look up at the surface, watching the ripples of your entry in reverse.

>Rays of sunlight dance through the water column like a personal light show.

>You take a quick breath and empty your lungs completely, blowing a continuous stream of bubbles as you sink. They dance above, shining like stars.

>The water's embrace is the best you've ever felt.

>The bottom meets you gently, and you relax, watching the bubbles whirl their way to the surface. Everything feels still, calm.

>Except the tugging on your fin.

>You look down and see the body of your right one is being pulled down. Not harshly or quickly, but enough for you to feel.

>You flip to your front and scope out the area; no weeds or curious fish, like you figured. Must be a... draft? Would that just be a current?

>Maritime isn't your specialty.

>You sweep your hand around until you feel it again, and trace it to a wide pock-mark in the rock. A little test reveals the top moves, just a little.

>It's like a pot-lid fracture you'd find on some stones in ordinary terrestrial work -- just way bigger.

>You don't know why you start trying to lift the stone. Idle curiosity backed by determination when you realize how heavy it is.

>Through a combination of pushing, prying with your fin, and squatting over it and pulling, you're able to flip it off, sending it tumbling into the rocky underwater crags.

>Beneath it is an opening -- a surprisingly large one.

>You know these pools are usually only partially filled with rainwater -- most are also fed by underground springs or rivers. You can feel the cool flow when you stick your arm in.

>You check your air gauge; you've still got 10 minutes or so.

>A shiver runs through you when you slip your whole body in. It's a squeeze getting your hand up to the mask in order to click on the built-in light.

>The walls are soft, and you realize it's from the thin beds of vegetation. Probably from the extra nutrients of the river.

>There's not a ton to see as you follow the tunnel along, keeping an eye on the digital air gauge. You quickly lose track of where the tunnel goes.

>...You really should take a caving class at some point.

>You're about to turn around when you notice a pattern along the walls. It's hard to see with the light, but you can feel it under your hands.

>Bricks. Purposeful grooves. The vegetation covers it, but you're sure of the feeling.

>They're rough, on the larger side. Makes sense for the Pacific side of the Maya empire.

>You look up and shake your head. No archaeology!

>But then something else catches your eye. You turn off the mask-light, ignoring the small LED on the gauge giving you your five minute warning.

>Up ahead there's light.

>You can't tell how far it is, nor what's making the glow, but with how winding the tunnel's been it can't be far.

>There's a burst of bubbles as you groan.

>Why do you do these things?

>You let go of the wall and swim with the flow.

>It's a weird feeling, more resistance on your fins than you'd think.

>The light grows stronger, and you can tell its from the surface -- but it's not bright enough to be another open-air cenote like you were in before.

>But it's also too bright to just be an errant shaft of light from a surprisingly straight drain hole.

>Then you realize how odd the color is; it's warm.

>The passage's flow slows when you draw near to it, and it widens out into some sort of pool. Several sources of light shimmer above you, looking almost like fire.

>You empty your lungs before pushing off the bottom, pulling the mask of your face when you surface.

>The air smells like flowers and tequila.

>"That was pretty dumb."

>Water splashes as you jump. You turn in place to source the voice, eyes still adjusting to the gloom.

>"You didn't even know if there was oxygen up here..."

>You're lucky you've got fins on, or you might've slipped back down below.

>The chamber you surfaced into is large, the small pool only taking up maybe a fourth of it. The entire thing is lined with ancient stone bricks, soft moss and vines threading along the walls.

>It's all lit by staves that look like tiki torches, and shafts of sunlight poke through the ceiling in various places.

>But the most eye-catching thing is the enormous jaguar that's reclining on a stone slab, tail flicking as it watches you.

>...As she watches you.

>The anthro-thing's womanly curves cannot be ignored. Especially with the skimpy outfit.

>...Are those seashells on her --?

>The jaguar clears her throat.

>"You didn't, uh, hurt yourself on the way down here, did you?" she asks. "Seems like you do that a lot."

>"No... wait, how the hell are you speaking English? What are you?"

>"Oh! I, uh, picked it up listening to... to people from these holes," she says, pointing up at the ceiling. "Goddess stuff, you wouldn't get it."

>She smirks when you raise an eyebrow, still looking at her in disbelief.

>"What, you think this body isn't divine?" She asked, running a hand along her plump hip.

>"Who are you?"

>"Why, I'm Ethel!"

>"... Do you mean 'Ix Chel?"

>"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the Goddess said, waving her hand. "In my native tongue, it's pronounced 'Jagwife.'"

>You almost stop treading water.

>"Your name is 'Woman' in your native tongue?"

>Jagwife huffs. Her seashells almost slip, and her loincloth covers little as she shifts and sits on the edge of the slab.

>"Yeah, it is. Come on dude, get out of my sacred pool already."

>The phrase 'sacred pool' stirs you, and you kick toward the ledge before pausing, looking at her even harder.

>"...'dude?'"

>"I learned it from beach bums! I live near the beach, don't I?" She rumbles, throwing her hands in the air. "Besides, what else could I be? You see many other animal women walking around?"

>You open your mouth, but she makes a good point. You pull yourself up onto the warm stone.

>Kicking off your fins while keeping an eye on the totally-real Goddess is a bit awkward.

>"So, what brings you to my abode?" she asks.

>"Curiosity. Stupidity, maybe."

>"Probably. Don't know how you'll swim back out from here..."

>You check the gauge on the tank; the needle hovers between 3 to 4 minutes. Jagwife is right.

>"Now, I might be able to get you out of here," the jaguar Goddess says, walking her fingers along a plump thigh, "you'll just have to do something for me."

>"...And what might that be?"

>A smug grin spreads across her face the same time as her legs.

>"Why, worship, of course! It's been quite a while..."

>You look her over one last time, trying to find any signs that she's not real -- or what she says she is, at least. It doesn't look like she's in a fursuit with how her curves move and jiggle, and even if she was, she's 10 feet tall. She moves far to naturally to be a normal-sized person in all that.

>You take a breath and sigh.

>If this is some kind of Ololiuqui hallucination, at least it's a hot one.

>The jaguar rumbles when you walk toward her.

>"Goood boy... Just satisfy me, and I'll get you out."

>She tuts when you go to move her loincloth.

>"Feel me up through it first," she says. "I want to savor this."

>You're glad her stomach is big enough that she can't see you roll your eyes.

>Jagwife's thighs flinch as you slide your hands along the crease between them and her pelvis. You them twitch inward when you press your face into the silken strip of fabric between her flower and the outside world.

>It's soft, like you imagined. The heat is humid as your face slips into the creased pillow of her pubic fat.

>Her reactions aren't very god-like...

>In the midst of her bitten-lip sounds of pleasure, you realize something.

>"...This feels like polyest --"

>"Alright enough teasing!"

>Jagwife closes her thighs around your head as quick as the words spill out. You try to move your head with little avail, pawing at the underside of her doughy thighs.

>The suspiciously modern fabric of her loincloth rubs against your face as the suspicious Goddess fishes it from between her clamped legs. There's a brief moment of hot, humid air when her thighs spread and she puts a paw on the back of your head.

>Then they clamp back around you with an audible clap and a jiggle that washes over you like waves. Soft calves press hard into your back.

>A single finger presses on your skull as the Goddess wiggles, grinding her thighs and hips against your face.

>You wrap your arms around her legs just to steady yourself.

>Already nose-deep in her folds, it's easy to begin to nuzzle.

>Jagwife tenses around you with a moan that cuts through the fat. Her body responds eagerly to your continued nosing.

>You feel a shock go through her when you kiss her.

>She tastes the way suntan lotion smells.

>Massaging her thighs gets her to shift in place and her heels to dig harder into your rear.

>It comes back to bite you when you try and dip down for a breath.

>The jaguar's soft nethers extend beyond how far you can tilt your head; instead of her folds, you suck at her moist fur.

>Apparently a sensitive patch of it, with how she jumps and giggles.

>When you slap at her thighs, though, her rumbling reaches your ears just fine. Your lungs ache a little before she spreads her legs in one big motion.

>Her finger is still on your head as you gasp and blink away the distortion.

>"Mmm... you really wouldn't be able to swim your way out..." she purrs.

>You don't process the insult until after she's picked you up. You're a bit busy pushing at her heavy tits to respond.

>"Lets try and fix that, hmm?" she says.

>You're dropped onto a cot that's nearly as soft as her stomach. It's some kind of woven cord, dyed with bright pastels.

>It's also far to small for the giant jaguar.

>You get a full view of her full moon as she straddles it, rosettes wobbling everywhere. They're smaller and sparser near her cheeks.

>The loincloth doesn't really cover much.

>"You ready?" she asks, hands on her hips and head just barely over her shoulder.

>"Ready for what?"

>Jagwife chuckles, and pulls aside the back of the loincloth with a shake of her rear.

>"Chicxulub!"

>Your eyes widen as the Goddess' world-changing assteroid drops. The impact flattens you into the cot and the cords dig into your back.

>Your moan is muffled beneath countless pounds of butt. A shift of her hips sends your face deeper into her crevice.

>Her weight is absurd -- you wheeze as she rocks. You can feel your own breath wash over your face, only adding to the heat.

>You somehow hear her chuckle when you push at her rear hopelessly.

>"Oh, relax... a little ass isn't going to hurt!"

>The cot beneath you strains as she puts more weight on you.

>"Now, here's the deal," she says, rocking side to side. "We're going to get your lungs up to snuff so you can get out of here! And because we're underwater, we'll add in some pressure training too."

>She lifts, and you gasp, your chest pressing hard against her thighs. Her paws cover your hands as she pries her cheeks apart.

>"Sound good?" she asks.

>"...C-can't you just magic me out?"

>"Nope!"

>Her hands drop and her cheeks smother you once more, though your chest is given a break.

>"C'mon, dude, you gotta earn it!" she says, savoring your muffled noises and slightly more successful booty-pushing. "You can't ask a favor like that of a Goddess without giving something!"

>Your legs bounce off the cot when she bounces gently. You grip her generous globes to ground yourself to something.

>"Now," she says, lifting up again, "sound good?"

>"Y-yeah."

>"Good!"

>You're more ready when she drops this time, but your form goes stiff when you feel her lift her legs. The cot groans as you're pressed down harder, your face bottoming out in her behind.

>"Worshiping shaves some time off," she sighs as she settles in, all of her weight on top of you. Her legs and ass cover you from head to toe.

>You don't need to ask what kind. Not that you really can.

>Licking the thin fur of the jaguar's crease fills her with jitters. You feel them as her curves jiggle against you.

>It tastes like the salt rim of a margarita, and leaves you twice as woozy.

>You don't notice you're passing out until she leans forward and spreads her cheeks again, shifting back the minute you manage a reflexive gasp.

>Satisfied rumbling drowns out the blood pounding in your ears.

>You grip her ass hard, your arms pinned above your head. It doesn't do much, but it's something.

>Keeps you focused even as the world shrinks and your head spins.

>Your body is rigid from head to toe. Her soft, heavy weight covers you more and more.

>Every ounce of give, compressed.

>Every inch of space, taken.

>Every speck of skin, touching fur.

>"My, my... looks like someone's excited."

>The words cut through the haze. Sensation tingles back to the rest of your body as she lifts, your mind not just focused on your face and fists.

>You're naked. You're hard and you're naked.

>When'd that happen?

>"I think that's proof enough that you're a bit more _hard_y now," the Goddess chuckles as she stands. You certainly don't feel it lying in her crater.

>"Now, why don't we finish off this ritual, and I'll magic you out of here?"

>indignance fights its way through the haze of pleasure and recent oxygen deprivation.

>"You said you couldn't!"

>Jagwife smiles and cocks her head.

>"Well, that was before that," she says, pointing at your cock. "A little sacrifice of seed should do it."

>"I have to fuck you if I want out?"

>"'Fuck' is such a base way of putting it," she sighs. She's purposeful in pressing your face into her underboob when she picks you up this time.

>"...and besides, I'll be the one doing the fucking."

>The surface you're laid on next is hard and cool. It's the ornate stone slab she'd been lounging on when you first saw her -- granite, maybe.

>Whatever it is, it's certainly not soft enough to take her.

>Legitimate fear grips your heart through this fever-dream when the wide-hipped woman straddles the slab, towering over you with a smug, devious expression that barely creeps over her generous chest.

>"W-wait --"

>She drops onto your hips with the force of an atom bomb. Your eyes roll back in your head, and you almost miss her tits bouncing in that seashell bra.

>Your groan is overshadowed by satisfied rumbling as Jagwife settles into place with tactical jerks. Everything from your stomach to your knees is under pressure.

>But all the damp heat is focused on one point.

>"Theeeere we are," she hums, slipping your member inside. Your back arches at the slick folds. She takes advantage and reaches down with one hand, pulling you up into her belly.

>"Just hold on, baby... hold on as long as you can..."

>The first thud of her hips resonates through the slab.

>You arch forward into her stomach as she shifts, her breasts resting on the top of your head.

>You squeeze her hard as she goes again, bouncing her hips hard enough to make your legs splay.

>Bounce, rub, repeat.

>The pleasure outweighs the pain. Her tight walls make every millimeter of motion a symphony of sensation, her soft curves against you echo every movement with waves.

>You lose your grip near your peak; Jagwife lets you slip back gently, chuckling at your tightly closed eyes. They don't open until the sinful rhythm pauses.

>They open wider when her bra comes off.

>The Goddess smiles down on you, her twin suns jumping when she drops her hips again. Your legs push up on her ass and your hands grip her thighs at the very sight of it.

>"Oh, I didn't realize you were a breast man..."

>She leans forward, her paws gripping the edges of the slab by your ribcage; her stomach presses down and her tits hang just above your face.

>Your pulsing member is left just barely inside her, the cavern's warm air cold compared to her insides.

>"Go on," she purrs --

>Christ her tits jiggled when she did that --

>"--play with them."

>Who are you to refuse a Goddess' demand?

>Jagwife rumbles as your hands sink deep into her titflesh. You squeeze them, shake them, clap them together to feel their heft.

>You try press your face into them, but shocks run down your spine as you nearly slip out.

>You whimper. She chuckles.

>"Should we finish?" she asks.

>"Y-yes," you say, eyes locked on her swaying nipples.

>"Beg."

>Her hips dip just a hair; your limbs stiffen with a moan.

>"Beg for your Goddess' blessing."

>You manage to reign in your senses just enough.

>"P-please -- Goddess --"

>"Please, 'Jagwife'."

>"Please -- Jagwife -- give me you --"

>The rest comes out as a stifled choke. Her husky chuckles echo in the chamber.

>"Good enough."

>Her tits bounce just out of reach as her hips slam down, pinning you to the stone with an audible thump.

>Your gasp is caught in your throat; your seed floods her womb

>The noises you make as she grinds ever so slightly are too. You're milked of your aftershocks.

>The jaguar's chest heaves, then a heavy, shuddering sigh rocks through her.

>A tension deep beneath her padding eases, one you didn't even realize was there. Her stomach and thighs grow even softer against you.

>And then she lays down.

>You get more boob than you ever wanted, Jagwife's fluffy funbags enveloping your head. They're a combination of soft and heavy that makes them impossible to move.

>Your attempts and muffled protests are met with pleasured huffs.

>"Don't worry, man, I'll get you out," she says; your fingers dig into her tits when she brings her legs up onto the slab, fully covering you.

>"--just after this little nap."

>Your adrenaline wanes. The warmth, the softness, the gentle rocking of her body -- they all conspire to make you tired.

>The lack of oxygen probably helps too.

>"Besides, it's how all these stories seem to go..."

>Her words grow fuzzy along with everything else.

>Even the slab beneath you feels soft.

>Warm, too.

>It all slips away until all you feel is the heat, your sweat, and a tired sense of satisfaction.

>...

>Water hits your face.

>You groan. Everything's still warm.

>Then you're drenched by a wave.

>There are rumbling giggles as she splutter and sit up, wiping the seawater from your eyes. You wince at the bright light -- far brighter than the underwater cave.

>Shashti stares down at you with a smile on her face. She asks if you're okay -- at least, you're pretty sure that's what she asks.

>The tigress frolics into the ocean when you nod, splashing you again.

>You're so disoriented that you don't even stare at her backside.

>You're on the beach. Not in a cave.

>Your discarded fins bump against your feet as you stand, threatening to float out to sea with the waves. Your mask and mini tank sit nearby.

>"What the hell?"

>You pick them up and stumble toward the main part of the private resort, where Anput is still baking in the sun. One of the suits gives you a nod when you draw near.

>"Hey -- did, uh you see me go out there?" you ask.

>He gives you an odd look. "No? You were on the bench, then I saw you in the water. Figured you wanted to cool off."

>The others you question say something similar.

>You go to Anput. Her divinity has to give her sort of extra sight.

>The jackal doesn't look up when you approach, her bare chest rising and falling high above.

>"Anput -- when did I come back from the cistern?"

>A golden eye opens, shifting over with slight annoyance.

>"I don't know, mortal. Recently."

>"Did you see how?"

>She closes her eye.

>"Your feet, I would assume," she rumbles. "Please, mortal, let me rest. I'm in no mood for jokes, nor to hear about that trinket around your neck."

>"Trinket around my--?"

>You look down: there's a necklace made of pastel-dyed cord, small beads and seashells strung along the edges.

>At the center lies a stone carving of a jaguar that appears to be winking.

>A particularly chubby jaguar.

>...

>You sure hope it's not a fertility idol...