Kotep Strips Down
Some kind of jackal trickster god manages to turn themself into a Gideon-sized stripper. Explicit.
Deep in the temple, in a small sanctuary off of the hypostyle hall, Kotep stood in front of a mirror flanked by flickering braziers. The golden jackal turned to one side, then the other. They hiked up the edge of their dress, exposing a little more hip, then let it drop back down with a sigh.
"This isn't going to work." Not for this trick. The plan was too complicated to get into, but the important part was that Kotep needed to sex things up for it to work. The only problem was: "What the hell are mortals horny for these days?"
One arm folded across their chest and one finger tapping at their chin, Kotep stared at the floor. They contemplated for a good minute or two before they began to get bored and impatient with waiting. It was too hard to put themself in the mindset of some idiot constantly driven around by their procreatory bits. It was much easier to just cast a spell that would take care of it all for them. Riskier, sure, but no one got to be a trickster god by playing it safe.
Kotep raised a hand and the ground began to rumble. Gusts of wind fluttered against their dress and ruffled through their hair like unseen wings. A few green-blue feathers fell to the floor and traced the outline of a circle around their feet. They cocked their hips, planted their hands on their waist, and watched the mirror, waiting for the sign of some change.
It was their breasts first. Of course it was. Ever since the Thirty-First Dynasty it'd been breasts. Swelling outward with their soft weight, they pulled the linen tighter around them. Kotep arched their chest toward the mirror and ran their hands down their dress to smooth it out. Their breasts stretched with a slow, steady motion, like the filling of a balloon. If they rested their hands on either side, they could feel the faint quivering of mass pumping into them—as well as a small jolt from their nipples, from the feeling of linen brushing against tender skin. Kotep yanked their hands away, rolled their eyes, and huffed, "Mortals."
Shifting their weight from one foot to another, Kotep became aware of the the broadening of their hips. They bent at the waist and slid their hands down their legs, running their fingertips along their thighs. Standing back up straight, they turned to the right and tugged at the hem of their dress across their hip. "That's a bit more like it," they said.
A shiver crawled up the fur on Kotep's spine. They stiffened for a moment, ears perked and hands balled into fists. A bulge slid down the front of their dress, between their thighs. After the first rush of sensation passed, they relaxed, loosened their shoulders, and pressed one hand lightly between their legs. Hm, that could be fun. In response to the touch, their shaft pulsed back up against their palm. Their eyelids fluttered and they bent forward. "Fff-fuck," they breathed.
For a second, the pressure squeezing up into Kotep's face felt like a stuffy cold, before it puffed out into their cheeks and slid down to the end of their snout. Leaning toward the mirror, they pouted their sliver of dark lower lip, batted their eyes, and tugged at their cheek to examine the thickened line of purple kohl traced under their eyes.
The strings of light bulbs mounted on either side of the mirror lit up their golden fur. Leaning back, they brushed back their bangs, set one hand on their hips, and smirked at their reflection. They looked good.
...but their magic thought they could look even better.
While their magic worked away, Kotep was distracted with contemplating their dress. It looked good on all sorts of bodies—a useful feature for a trickster god's attire—but it could be better, couldn't it? With a snap of fingers, the dress split right above their navel and rolled apart into two pieces: a loincloth draped around their waist and a snug linen wrap like a halter top around their chest. They put their hands behind their head and stretched their back, enjoying the extra degree of freedom, now that their whole dress wasn't being pulled around by their breasts.
Their breasts, which were still growing. While their straining weight hung forward off of Kotep's chest, a combination of divine influence and their own tautness held them in a roughly rounded shape. Their burden on the jackal's back made itself known, along with a persistent tenderness gathered at the tips of their nipples. They stretched the linen into divots, highlighted in faint relief by the two strings of lights. Slipping a hand over one made a jolt shoot to the tip of Kotep's tail and squeezed a yip from their throat. Within seconds, both of their hands were cupping and kneading slowly, while their nipples swelled fatter between their fingers.
The steady plumpening of Kotep's hips filled them with a persistent warmth. The strips of linen hanging from the jackal's hips seemed smaller and smaller against those broader thighs. They pressed together, grinding slowly against one another. Once Kotep managed to let go of their chest, their hands went down to their hips, rubbing slowly, squeezing big handfuls of thick ass and feeling the pressure slowly spreading their fingers apart. Kotep let out a deep breath. Their eyelids drooped and their tail swayed unconsciously behind their back.
The bulge in their loincloth was longer, thicker, and more substantial. It arched forward, away from their legs, lifting the linen only enough to be suggestive. Still, the contour of the shaft and head were visible against the white cloth, and its tip was inching closer and closer to the level of their knees. It throbbed; the loincloth bounced. A faint groan left their lips as they pushed the bulge down between their thighs, trying to wedge it there so it wouldn't be so distracting.
Kotep shut their eyes as a fresh wave of pressure rippled up into their face. A fluid surge pumped out to the tip of their snout. Their lip was pursed, but it puffed outward all the same. When they cracked open their eyes, they saw a polished purple pout poking from the front of their muzzle, and around their eyes, heavier kohl with a shiny finish and fluttering lashes. They lifted a finger to roll across their lip, watching the light gleam off of its glossy finish.
An urge rose to the front of their mind, a deep, mortal-flesh sort of urge that they weren't ready to resist. Pressing against that pout, their finger slipped into their mouth up to its base. Their lip squeezed tight around it and they began to suck on it. By the time they pulled their finger free, a small string of saliva hung between its tip and the edge of their lip.
Sparing a moment's glance around the sanctuary, Kotep couldn't remember their temple having this much polished obsidian and gleaming golden neon lights. It was flashy, ostentatious, and quickly growing on them. Everywhere they looked, their reflection was looking back at them. Kotep curled their back and struck a sultry pose, pouting their lips and shooting a wink at their reflection in a nearby column.
A considerable portion of the underside of their breasts were poking out from underneath their top, and defied any attempt to squeeze them back down. Another snap of their fingers, and the linen rearranged itself into a pair of straps, crossed underneath their silver collar and wrapping around each side of their chest individually. As an added bonus, it put even more pale-golden cleavage on display.
Kotep's breasts had grown large enough to match their chest in width, but that wasn't going to stop them. Squeezed together in the middle, they expanded outward, projecting further from the jackal's chest. Soon Kotep slipped their hands back around them, kneading the tender, oversized nipples. Soft groans slipped out of their mouth and their eyes struggled to stay focused. This body had far too many of those stupid mortal urges and they all felt too good to indulge. Keeping their head above all these base, material lusts wasn't worth the effort.
Poking from the tips of Kotep's fingers and toes were short claws, painted a shade of purple to match their lipstick. Other flashy flourishes had found their way onto the jackal's body, too: their pair of silver earrings had become a set of four, a coiled silver snake was wrapped around their right arm, and streaks of purple dye painted into their hair now framed their face.
Speaking of urges, Kotep was suddenly struck by the urge to get fucked. It hit hard enough to double them over, catching themselves with one hand against the mirror, tongue dangling from the side of their mouth. Their other hand had slipped back to squeeze their ass. They had hips thicker than Hathor and an ass that was so round and perky and broad it made their loincloth look more like a thong. Their tail flagged up into the air and they fogged the mirror with their panting. It took every mote of their willpower squeezed together to keep from summoning up a dildo and squatting down over it right there.
Slowly, heart thumping in their chest, Kotep eased back up until they were standing straight, or as close to it as their chest would allow. As if their thoughts weren't clouded enough already, as they stood straight their cock surged out beneath their loincloth. The bulge became a tent became a firm shaft jutting out in front of them, arched slightly upward, with the flap of linen hanging uselessly off to one side. While its growth was steady, it kept throbbing as it swelled, squeezing more space for itself between their thighs.
Kotep fought to hold their cock still, though each of their hands could only fit around half of its girth, at most. The thought of wedging it up between their breasts and getting off like that sent the fur bristling all the way up along their back. A few lazy drops of cum drooled from the tip. After a few tense throbs, they let out a deep breath and relaxed their grip. The new urge to fuck something had balanced out the urge to get fucked, and now they were just vaguely all-around horny.
"Ah, mortals," Kotep huffed, their eyes fluttering back. A dizzy feeling washed over them; once again the magic swelled into their face. The lines of kohl traced back from their eyes fattened and glimmered with a metallic sheen, complementing their layered makeup. Their lip curled slightly, then bulged out, starting from one side and washing over to the other, bloating outward with a small cleft in the middle. Stuck in its pout, it jutted out plump and firm enough to dominate the front of their snout. For several seconds, all Kotep could think of was what they could cram into their muzzle to satisfy the urge to wrap their lips around something.
With that last touch, the spell ended. The circle of ba-feathers on the floor vanished, leaving Kotep to rove their hands over their body, groping big handfuls of tits or cock or ass, all with a glassy look in their eyes. The only thing that kept them from summoning a few shabti servants to fuck senseless was having to decide what kind of sex to have first. With all these options, how did mortals even manage?
Kotep snapped their fingers, and a small throne appeared behind them. Sitting down was too difficult, as it made their shaft grind against the underside of their breasts, so after a moment of struggling, they waved their hand and stretched the throne into a cushioned bench, which they draped themself lengthwise on. Without even thinking about it, Kotep's hand wrapped around their shaft and began pumping, while their other hand summoned up a hookah and nestled the mouthpiece against their lip.
Muffled dance music came through the open doorway, and a bass beat rumbled up from the stone floor. Kotep didn't remember turning their temple into a strip club, but it was hard to look at the sexed-up jackal god in the mirror and say that their temple wouldn't have a strip club in the hypostyle hall.
It was something Kotep could clear up when they got back, anyway. At the moment, they had trickster business to attend to—that plan they'd had brewing. Just as Kotep was getting ready to stop smoking and rubbing their cock and get up (any minute now), a sphinx servant poked her head through the open door. "You're on in two," she said, then gave the stripper-god a reverent bow before disappearing off down the corridor.
Kotep popped the hookah from their mouth and curled their lip into a frown. They hadn't even gotten a chance to mention that they had plans. But the more they thought about it, the less they wanted to skip out on one of their own shows. The attention was intoxicating; it would really pump them up before heading out to go fuck—err, trick some mortals. So Kotep rose from their bench, paused in front of the mirror, and flicked a few sparks of magic onto their face to tidy up their makeup. They'd give a good show, and then they'd be free to get up to mischief.
Down the corridor and into the hall, the pumping music grew louder. Curtains were strung up across the obsidian columns lining the hall, creating a backstage where Kotep could wait for their cue. The synth sitar of their song was already strumming. As soon as the bass beat came in, they parted the curtains with their fingers and strode out onto the stage to cheering from the underworld spirits in the audience.
Kotep waded through the bright lights with the baseline swinging in their step. At the front of the stage, they grasped the pole with both hands and began to work it.
Their set came so naturally it was like meditation, letting their thoughts loose to follow the rhythm. Kotep slid down the pole, legs spread, shaft barely covered by their loincloth; they curled around the pole and spun, showing off their expansive figure in three-sixty. With a well-timed snap as their back was turned, their top dissolved away into nothing. A wave of cheers greeted them as they turned back around and bared their breasts to the crowd.
Caressing their chest with their hands, working in slow circles around the outside then up across their swollen nipples, Kotep ground lower and lower along the pole. Reaching up above their head, they pulled their body back up. They spun around with a kick, then spirited their loincloth away with a wave of their hand.
The music pounded on and the set grew hotter and heavier. Kotep dragged their hand along their cock, stroking it with their back against the pole. They twisted and spun around it, with their cock jutting from between their legs, swinging through the air, throbbing insistently. Kotep's eyes had rolled shut, and their mouth hung open in a fat O as they sucked in heavy breaths. The music peaked; they threw themself to their knees, sliding almost to the edge of the stage, head tossed back and cock erupting. The strobe lights caught the cumshot in the air, making it hang in shutter-step over the crowd.
The lights went dim and the song came to a stop, though the cheering pounded on with that same heavy rhythm.
Back in the sanctuary, with the music from some other set just a dull pulsing beat in the back of Kotep's ears, the jackal god lounged on their bench, blowing ankhs of smoke from their hookah into the air. With a wave of their hand, the loincloth and linen wrap were back, once again barely restraining their assets. They traced a fingertip idly along the curve of their hips and grinned. "If this is what mortals want, then I'll just have to give it to them. Hard," Kotep said, with a hungry lick of their lips.
With nothing more than a wink and a faint pop, they vanished, off to enact whatever plan they'd had in mind, with maybe a detour or two along the way.