Montana Smith was probably one of the worst explorers ever. He hadn't actually found a single long-lost artifact in years, ending up empty handed, robbed, and generally making a mess of his work and had spent most of his money, and funding, searching the globe on fruitless goose-chases, red herrings and rumors.
In fact, he had recently lost all of that generous funding from the university after he failed to convince the head dean that the Lost Temple of Anubis ever existed.
The committee, of course, didn't believe him, and his attempts to prove its existence only served to prove further that he, Montana Smith, was "Unfit and incapable for further fieldwork.", according to the letter of dismissal that had been placed on his desk.
How dare they treat a world famous archeologist like that, he thought to himself. The great explorer had set out to prove them wrong, after he had heard a rumor in one of the numerous bars he now frequented, about a large pillar, from some ancient temple, had been uncovered in the desert of Egypt, bearing the great seal of Anubis. Without his university funding (and salary) he had to sell his own car and a number of other possessions just to pay for the plane ticket.
Montana had made it to the very spot, finally, sunburned and sweating under the desert sun. With so little money, he had still made it (but not after losing his luggage and a rented camel in a freak sandstorm).
He had trudged onward by himself for miles under a blazingly hot sun, before finally coming to the spot. He drew his dented steel canteen to his quivering lips, but only a few fat drops of precious water remained. There wouldn't be enough for a return trip.
It was real, it existed. This discovery alone would be enough to get him back both his job and his funding, an entire temple, undiscovered until now, would be the discovery of a lifetime. His fingers traced the chiseled stone of the pillar, tracing the great seal carved deep into the pale yellow sandstone, and he knew he was in the right place.
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The flickering torch cast its light down the crumbling stairs of the ancient temple, constructed hundreds of feet underground, significant of the Jackal God's connection to the underworld. The air tasted stale, musty, lifeless, like old mysteries and archaic secrets. This was an antediluvian place, old even when Rome was built and destroyed, even as older than the Great Pyramids. It had not seen light for at least 4,000 years.
Montana's heavy leather boots made loud, echoing footsteps off the carved stone and down long corridors, making a sound like an army of boot clad explorers were following him. Montana Smith was amazed at the amount of work put into the temple, dug deep into the earth, every wall covered in bas reliefs carved by ancient artists thousands of years ago, some still stained by the remnants of the once-bright paint that had decorated them.
The pictures were of Anubis, scenes of his deeds and his place in the underworld as guardian and judge of souls. In the flickering torchlight, however, they seemed to dance, moving, walking, as if they had been animated by some forgotten magic. Montana shivered. Normally, he was accompanied by a number of men, diggers recruited from the locals, but this time, he was alone. He reached the bottom of the steps, standing stock still in front of a long, dark hallway.
Long, dark hallways were always the most dangerous, sandstone carvings concealing a number of deadly traps. Normally, there would at least be a snake pit, or rolling boulder, or sharpened blade that spring out of the walls and floor when a certain release was touched.
Montana Smith wiggled his gloved fingers, a habit learned from the many grand adventure movies he loved to watch. Out of his worn leather shoulder-slung pouch, he withdrew a number of marbles of varied sizes, and cast them into the hallway. The balls usually revealed most of the traps, springing the rusted mechanisms, instead of risking walking through the hall himself. The marbles, however, sprung no such traps, rolling down the slight incline of the hall encountering nothing.
This was strange. Montana Smith rubbed his stubbled chin. Weren't all ancient temples guarded by some form of trap, to foil robbers and adventurers like himself? He decided to be on the side of caution, lightning a second torch, from his pack, and tossed it into the hallway. Nothing. The only movement was that of the scorpions skittering away, out of the light. Montana squished one under his boot with a rage so fierce, it had to be personal. It was personal. He hated scorpions, all scorpions, after a horrible accident that involved his 12 year old self, and a large nest of the stinging arachnids he had fallen into.
He grimaced. If there weren't any traps, then something was off. He shrugged the growing feeling of concern off. This was his chance to prove to the committee that the great explorer Montana Smith was no quack, and he had found the Lost Temple of Anubis, along with his long lost treasure. If, in fact, there was any, the underground temple had been a dud so far in terms of treasure or the traps needed to guard it. Stepping lightly, gingerly, into the hallway, Montana was tense, his muscles ready to get him out of any danger the second it showed up.
He briefly glanced at the walls, and then looked a second time at what was carved on the sandstone blocks. The pictures, still with the original, bright paint now slightly dulled, were unlike any other he had ever seen. Anubis was seated on what appeared to be his throne, the black, jackal god held a paw at the human figures before him. The god wore a long necklace, green emeralds on a gold chain.
But what was truly strange was the people before him. Lines, signifying the God's power, radiated from his paw-like hand, but the people, humans, looked wrong. Their faces bore expressions that were unreadable, and they had strange features. One man had a normal human body, but the tall ears of a jackal. Another, a woman, seemed to be staring at a jackal's tail emerging from her clothes.
Montana was surprised at the strange carvings, why was Anubis changing the humans into jackals before him? The stories had no mention of any power to change humans into animals. The last carvings were the strangest. The humans had been replaced by jackals, but they still had human like hands, and legs.
Montana Smith stared at the wall before him in wonder. In fact, he almost didn't notice the section of wall before him, at the end of the long hallway, literally only centimeters from his nose. It blocked his path, stopping him in his tracks. It was tall, about 8 feet, covered in hieroglyphics. Pulling out his handy "Ancient Egyptian to modern english" translation book.
"Man, fish, squiggly line, bird, llama, Anubis, jar, crocodile." He read. This roughly translated to: He who disturbs the ancient treasure of Anubis will be cursed. Montana Smith felt his heart skip a beat, ancient curses were not to be taken lightly.
Nevertheless, the writing had confirmed the existence of Anubis's treasure, and Montana's head swam with images of endless mountains of exquisitely crafted gold, silver, emeralds, and the Necklace of Anubis. The only question was where was the treasure? This was the only path in this temple, and yet, there was no door to said treasure.
The pages of Montana's book began to rustle slightly, in a breath of wind coming from...the wall? The adventurer examined the wall, searching for some way past it. His leather-gloved fingers touched a recessed trigger, hidden in plain sight as a carving on the wall. With a rocky, grinding noise, the door slid out of sight, dirt falling from the ceiling.
A cold rush of musty, stale, bitter air blew the fedora off of Montana's head, and he stepped forward. Suddenly, as if by magic, hundreds of torches lit around the large cavern, filling it with golden light. Montana felt his jaw flop open. The room was gigantic, the vaulted ceiling over three stories high, and hundreds long, and filled with gold. Statues, goblets, gold coins, a king's ransom, and then some. Montana's eyes shown with greed, if the committee could see him now!
He grabbed handfuls of the treasure, letting the small coins and gems fall through his fingers. But he left it where it fell, stepping back in sudden interest. It only bothered him slightly, that everything had been unguarded, not a single Tibetan wall spike or Mongolian tripwire axe to stop the thieves from entering. After all, if this temple had evaded discovery for so long, who was to say it would stayed hidden forever?
He continued past the piles of treasure strewn across the room, the real prize sat in the center, the necklace. He had heard stories, rumors, of it's power, and, it's worth. Coins and jewels shifted under his weight, as he climbed through piles of treasure.
In a moment of careless unprofessionalism, Montana lifted it carefully from it's pedestal, undoing the golden clasp on the back, and slipping it carefully over his neck. He couldnt help himself, all these years, and now he heald somthing of true beauty in his arms.The necklace was lighter than it looked, it felt almost like it was floating from his neck, despite the heavy nature of gold.
The second the clasp closed around his neck, he heard the voices, whispering, in his ears, the torches flickering, casting writhing shadows on the walls.
"W-who's there?" He called, not expecting an answer. His his shaking hands reached into the leather satchel on his waist, drawing out a rusted metal object. He had purchased the revolver in a bazaar in Cairo, just in case he should need it. The toothless man had also given him six small pistol bullets for the gun, and now, Montana fearfully loaded them with shaking hands, turning around and around to try and face his invisible enemies.
Taking aim, he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened, swearing as he had neglected to pull back the hammer. He spun again, hammer clicking into place, and fired, the recoil causing him to drop the gun, the noise if the shot echoing off the walls and ceiling with a booming report.
The voices chanted louder, and it seemed to Montana that they were very close, circling him. The emeralds on his necklace began to glow, a bright, jade green. He frantically tried to rip the cursed thing from his neck, but the clasp seemed to have disappeared, and the priceless treasure would not come off.
Montana felt his ears twitch, suddenly knocking off his fedora, the trusty leather hat hitting the stone floor with a muffled thump. His shaking hand reached up unsteadily to the top of his head, finding his ears had grown, to two, very tall, furry triangle ears, almost a foot in height, poked out of his hair.
Withdrawing his hand in surprise, he noticed his hand was... discolored. Short, black hairs grew on his palm and fingers, his palms puffing out, along with his fingers. His hands were encompassed in a emerald green light, softly shimmering. Short, black nails pushed up and out of his skin like black knives and, according to the discomfort in his shoes, the same was happening to his feet.
His sharp, canine ears caught the sound of popping seams, coming from his shoes, as his growing feet ripped out of his leather boots, stubby black claws poking from his socks. Now his legs had been covered in a glowing green light, snaking like an emerald fog around his legs. He noticed his fingers were now shorter, but hadn't lost their flexibility. He watched as the black, short fur crept up his legs and arms, the short hair sticking out of his pale skin.
Suddenly, he felt a strange pressure at the base of his spine, building up to an unbearable point. With a ear-splitting ripping sound, the short, pointed, thin tail burst through his khaki cargo pants, exposing his backside to the cold air of the tomb.
Montana Smith stared at his new tail in amazement, finding he could now move it at will, like he had been born with it. He experimented with his new appendage, wagging it and curling it. The black fur rushed up his back, causing him to scratch at it angrily, fur rushing up his front as well. The fur reached his face, and the explorer began to feel his skull stretch and grow.
"Oh no..." He said, knowing what came next. "Ah, ah, ow, ow, ow, ow!"He yelled, as his jaw pushed out, followed by the rest of his skull, teeth sharpening in his mouth, nose lengthening into a muzzle. Montana blinked, watching his yellow, canine eyes adjust to the darkness, now he could see just as well as he could in day.
"No! Stop it! Please!" He cried out, but his pleas were not heard.
His heavy leather boots began to feel a little too tight, the sides straining, sharp black nails began to push through the front, pads forming on the bottoms of his feet. An extremely painful sensation in his legs brought him to his knees, watching as the knee caps twisted backwards, inverting, becoming diagrade like a dogs. He struggled to stand up, and managed to climb shakily to his feet. Black fur now covered his neck, reaching his head.
Montana Smith blinked. Nothing else happened. He realised he had been holding his breath, and let it out with a sigh. It was over.
He looked down at that eerie necklace, still glowing green. But something wasn't right, it felt like whatever was changing him was not done with him just yet. He was right. His hair, usually short and trimmed, didn't even reach below his jaw, but now he could feel it was now on his shoulders, a dark, jet black mane. It was getting longer, and he watched as it lengthened rapidly, falling all the way to his waist, where it stopped.
Montana was confused. Usually, Egyptian men had short hair, and even the portraits of their male gods had only shoulder length hair at most Why was his so long then?
He stroked his hair, it was black, and silky, and was very light. It was then he realized it, while the men had short hair, women had hair that was sometimes even shown as waist length!
"Oh no, no, no, no no!" He cried, as he watched his fingers slim down, along with his arms. He watched in horror as his stomach flattened out, and his hips widen and stretch to a womanly girth, his belt, unable to take the strain, snapped off, his zipper undoing itself was his waist expanded uncontrollably.
The seams if his tan pants began to finally give out, ripping apart as his thighs thickened to proportions that would make most supermodels jealous. There was a series of pops, and his back suddenly curved backwards into an S shaped curve.
His face slimmed, becoming feminine, eyelashes grew out as fast as his hair had, and, with a sickening feeling in his gut, he could feel a kind of pressure in his man-parts below. He pulled down the shreds of his pants, and his underwear, but could only watch in horror as the the family jewels were sucked into an opening slit where they should of been.
His fingers grabbed at open air in vain, his manhood was gone, and with it a terrible feeling of an opening inside him. He tentatively put one finger inside, wondering what happened to him, and his entire body shuddered, as he felt his finger touch a bundle of nerves inside.
The touch triggered an uncontrollable spasm that wracked his entire body, sending shivers down his spine and his eyes to roll up from the unexpected pleasure. "Ah, ah, yesssssss!" Her trembling body collapsed onto the golden mound of treasure, her mind still swimming from the ecstasy.
What was happening to him? Why him. It was unfair to lose one's humanity AND masculinity in one day. A second affront of building pleasure hit her like a runaway camel, causing her to lose grip on reality again. But a sudden pressure in his chest stopped him, and he knew what would come next.
There was an unbearable itching in the skin and fur that covered his chest, and an electric tingly feeling in his nipples. His chest was growing out, transforming from a flat chest, to mounds the size of golf balls, and still growing out at an alarming rate.
She watched in horror as the two lumps became the size of large apples, still gaining speed and size. He grabbed them desperately, trying to push them back into himself as hard as he could, but they kept growing, now the size of small cantaloupes, he realized he was doing nothing to halt their progress.
Her efforts were further delayed by an even stronger convulsion, her entire body now shaking with the last spasm of pleasure. The buttons of his shirt strained, and began to pop, starting with the top one, then the three under it, flying off and plinking off the stone walls like miniature frisbees.
He had a much better view of what was happening now, as furry mounds surged larger and larger, now half the size as large basketballs. The feeling of her paws on her nipples was strangely...arousing, and the pressure of his fingers made him moan with unwanted pleasure.
They doubled in size, almost full basketball size now, and stopped, and Montana tried to shove the mass back into his shirt, but to no avail, the shirt was not made for such womanly roundness, and the soft flesh simply fell back out to hang mockingly in the flickering light.
The necklace was still glowing, casting a light on her new breasts. She looked around, why was she here? Thats right. She thought. She was here to guard to treasure of Anubis, but where was her weapon? A green light shot from the necklace, and the light became a long, golden spear, with a similar green stone set into it. A golden Khopesh, a large, sickle-like sword, appeared at her hip. She smiled a toothy grin
"I remember," she said. Looking around She looked down, at the shreds of ripped clothing still clinging to her new body.
These are not clothes fit for a priestess. Closing her eyes, her lips moved quickly as green tendrils of light snaked from the necklace, wrapping her body in emerald light. When it dissipated, she was left standing in pure white cotton robes that reached nearly to the floor, and draped across her arms.
Her large bust was covered a little more than it had been previously, but still showed a generous portion if the black mounds. In a second wave of light, she stood adorned with earrings, and bracelets, made of the same rich gold and emerald as her necklace.
Standing up to her full height, she surveyed the wealth of treasure before her. With her guarding, no thieves or adventurers would ever step foot in her domain, as long as she was there to stop them.
She smiled, revealing pointed, canine teeth. Father Anubis would be so proud to see his little Nile Lily guarding his most precious treasures.
