Heart of the Oasis
Copyright© 2026 by Snekguy
Chapter 3: Anointed
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 3: Anointed - The priest Meritamun spends his days performing religious duties and maintaining the temple in which he lives, content in a humble life serving the Gods. His routine is turned on its head when he receives a summons from Anput – the living Goddess of death, and the consort of Anubis. He has been chosen to become her personal attendant, but why, he cannot say. His new role will require him to unlearn many of his assumptions about the Gods, and to open himself up to serving his deity in new ways.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Historical Furry Magic Exhibitionism First Massage Oral Sex Petting Tit-Fucking Big Breasts Size Royalty
“She left you flowers and sweets?” Nakht asked, pausing to drag a razor across his shaven head. “That doesn’t sound like service to me, Merit. That sounds more like courtship.”
Several of the temple priests were taking their morning nefer in the sacred lake, bathing and shaving before beginning their daily duties. Merit and Nakht had moved away from the group to a deeper part of the pool, discussing the events of the prior evening in hushed voices lest they be overheard.
“You cannot speak such things, Nakht!” Merit hissed as he lathered his chest with soap. “If anyone were to overhear us, we might be punished for blasphemy.”
“How can it be blasphemy when it comes from the lips of the Goddess?” his friend pressed. “You know I won’t repeat any of this, but you can’t be blind to what’s happening here. Why would the Goddess lavish you with attention and gifts if she did not have more than simple household service in mind for you?”
“Perhaps she is simply being kind,” Merit replied with a shrug. “She has been alone for so long, without so much as a friend to talk to. She may feel that she needs to entice me with gifts when the pleasure of her company would more than suffice. The only person she really interacts with is the high priest, and we both know that he’s not exactly the life of the party.”
“You’ve never been to a party,” Nakht scoffed.
“It’s just something the Goddess said,” Merit conceded.
“Either way, this isn’t how a new high priest is selected,” Nakht continued as he checked his face in his bronze mirror. “Damn, why did you get chosen? I wish I had a Goddess feeding me wine and cakes. I wouldn’t be fretting about it.”
“I don’t know,” Merit admitted. “In truth, I feel a little guilty. I don’t feel that I’ve done anything special to warrant such treatment. I am dutiful in my work and my studies, but so are many other priests.”
“Don’t question it,” Nakht insisted, passing him the mirror. “The Gods smile upon you, and you’re being given an opportunity enjoyed by few, if any. You’d better take full advantage of it. If you screw this up, I’m gonna be mad.”
“Alright, alright,” Merit chuckled.
“See if you can smuggle me some of those stuffed dates, too,” he added.
When they were done bathing, they headed into the temple and began their morning rituals, but it wasn’t long before the high priest came looking for Merit.
“The Goddess seems pleased,” he said as he walked Merit over to the sealed door, his staff clicking on the marble floor. “It has been some time since I have seen her in such a good mood. Am I to assume that your outing yesterday was a successful one?”
“Successful, certainly,” Merit replied. “Though, successful in what, I cannot say.”
“She enjoyed the time that she spent with you,” the high priest clarified. “You kept her company and entertained her, which was your sole task. Give yourself some credit, boy.”
“Yes, high priest.”
“Your presence is requested, so off you go,” he added as he gave Merit’s butt a tap with his stick. “Whatever you’ve been doing, keep it up. And don’t forget her breakfast!”
A broken seal later, and he was walking into Anput’s quarters, the woven basket of offerings held in his arms. She wasn’t waiting for him in the dining hall this time, Merit seeing movement to his left – in her bed chamber. She was standing behind her bed, the drapes obscuring her from view, but enough light bled through the gossamer fabric to silhouette her figure. He couldn’t help but pause to admire her, his eyes tracing her waist, following the wide flare of her fertile hips. She turned slightly, just enough that he could see the shadow of her ample chest, shifting softly as she appeared to dress herself.
He decided to clear his throat, announcing himself.
“Good morning, my Lady. I have brought your offerings.”
“Merit,” she cooed, turning to face him. She lifted her arms above her head and stretched, her hips swaying left and right like a pendulum, the silhouette of her bosom bouncing gently as she let her arms fall again. “I think I shall take my nefer before my breakfast today. Place the basket on the table and prepare my bath.”
“At once, my Lady,” he replied as he hurried into the dining hall.
“Feel free to help yourself!” she called after him. “I would not want to see you go hungry.”
With a sizable chunk of bread in his mouth, he quickly headed to the bathhouse, starting the process of warming the stones in the clay oven. He was becoming quite adept now, and it wasn’t long before he’d lined up all of Anput’s choice soaps and perfumes beside the steaming bath, wisps of incense filling the air.
“You are becoming quite the adept little attendant, aren’t you?” Anput cooed. Merit paused his scattering of flower petals and turned to see her standing in the doorway, her hips cocked as she leaned one arm against its marble frame. She was wearing her bead dress, as seemed to be her custom when she bathed, her body filling it out admirably as the tight mesh pressed subtle indents into her flesh. Her fur was as lustrous as ever, shining like polished stone. “I shall have to find more tasks for you to complete.”
“My Lady,” he replied, bowing his head. It was hard not to remember the touch of her lips from the night before – hard to stay as detached and composed as service required him to be. “I must thank you for the gifts you left for me last night. It was a wonderful surprise to return home to. The flowers were beautiful, and the dates were delicious. You honor this humble priest.”
“Service has its rewards,” she said, something about her tone making that fluttering sensation return to his belly. “I promised you more work yesterday, didn’t I? You seem to find solace in labor, and I find your eagerness to serve endearing. You may clean the floor of the bed chamber and replace the sheets. You know where the cleaning supplies are, and you shall find fresh linens in the same cupboard where you found my clothes.”
“Without delay, my Lady,” he replied as she stepped aside to let him pass.
“You may want to pace yourself,” she called after him. “It’s a warm morning...”
Merit fetched a broom and a rag from the cupboard in the atrium and set about cleaning the marble floor of the bed chamber, sweeping away any dust and polishing the stone to a shine. It was hard work, and as Anput had warned, it was a hot morning that only grew hotter as the sun rose. Next came her massive bed, as large as the deck of a small barge. He pulled open the curtains and gave it an experimental push, leaning his weight on the sheets. Merit slept on a reed mat, but this bed was made from fabric stuffed with what felt like goose feathers. It was unbelievably soft, his hand sinking up to the wrist, but it would have to be to spread out Anput’s weight.
Merit had never been tasked with changing a bed like this one before, but it only took him a few minutes to figure out. He was soon rolling up the used linens and placing them at the foot of the bed’s massive wooden frame, both their size and weight surprising him. They were saturated with Anput’s perfume, and it was hard to stay focused on his task with her scent filling his lungs with each breath.
The fresh bedding was in the cupboard as Anput had said, and when the task was finished, he carried the rolls of used linens to the atrium one after the other so that they could be removed to the temple later. That done, he paused to wipe the sweat from his brow, glancing over to see that his host was still lounging in the steaming water.
“Are you finished, Merit?” she called to him. “If so, come. I mean to keep your hands busy.”
Wondering if she was going to have him assist her in her nefer again, he hurried to her side, standing beside the pool as he waited dutifully for further instructions.
“Merit,” she chimed, glancing up at him from her reclined position by the water’s edge. Just like last time, there was a film of soap atop the water, obscuring much of her dark fur from view below the chest. “You’ve worked up quite a sweat,” she added, looking him up and down with her golden eyes. “You know well that purity of both body and soul is necessary to tread sacred ground such as this.”
“Apologies, my Lady,” he stammered as he dropped into a low bow. Her tone wasn’t stern, but he still felt a flood of apprehension rush through him. Letting her down was the worst thing he could imagine. “I will leave for the sacred lake and perform a second nefer without delay.”
“Oh, there’s no need to trouble yourself with going all the way to the lake,” she said with a sly smile, raising a cupped hand from the pool and letting the fragrant water trickle down her arm. “Join me, and I shall cleanse you. Toss in another stone first – the water is starting to cool.”
“M-my Lady?” he stammered, reeling as his emotions shifted from disappointment to elation in an instant. Assisting a Goddess in her purification rituals in some small way was honor enough, but to have her oversee his nefer was something even greater.
“Go on,” she prompted, and he hurried over to the oven to fish out a glowing stone with the tongs. He placed it into the steaming water at the far end, then moved to the steps that led down into the pool, Anput’s long snout turning to follow him.
Gingerly, he walked down into the water, his legs disappearing beneath the soapy film. Anput liked her baths hot, and it took him a few moments to grow accustomed to the temperature. The sacred lake was not heated in this way and was generally a little cooler than ambient. He kept his schenti on to preserve his modesty. There were replacement linens in the bathhouse, and it would dry quickly.
As he submerged himself to his waist and his skirt began to sink, Anput shifted, displacing the water as she waded over to him. The pool was sized for her stature, a slight angle making one side deeper than the other, and more of her body slowly rose into view as she neared. Her bosom breached the water, swaying within her sparse dress with each step, a few pale suds clinging to her wet fur. By the time the pair met, he was almost submerged to his chest, and Anput to her waist. Merit was already cupping some of the floating suds and rinsing away the sweat, but Anput reached to her right with a long arm and plucked an ornate jar of jasmine oil from the pool’s edge.
“My Lady, such luxuries are wasted on a Hem-Netjer,” he protested as she upended some of the substance into her palm. “A humble soap made from olive oil and salt shall suffice for me.”
“Nonsense,” she purred in that soft voice, replacing the jar and spreading the expensive oil between her hands. “If you are to be my personal attendant, and if you are to serve me in my most private chambers, I would hold you to a far higher standard of purity than a simple Hem-Netjer.”
Merit held as still as a statue as she reached down, placing her hands on his bare shoulders. Her fur was just as soft as he remembered, slick with oil now, gliding across his skin almost without friction. She began to spread the jasmine, the touch of her silken coat and the slippery oil making it a challenge to keep from wriggling. Anput was agonizingly gentle, her pace slow, almost as though she was savoring this. Her slender fingers moved across his chest, her sharp claws teasing him, never applying enough pressure to risk a cut.
“Raise your arm,” she whispered, her voice alone almost enough to weaken his knees. He did as she ordered, and she took the limb in both hands, sliding them from his bicep to his wrist. Her long fingers interlocked with his own, and she stroked his palm, spreading the fragrant oil across his hand. He shivered at her touch, unable to focus on anything but the sensations, his senses somehow heightened. Flower petals floated past atop the water, and wisps of steam rose from its surface as she roamed back down, the feeling of her claws trailing down his wrist dizzying him.
She repeated the process with his other arm, then bade him to turn around, Merit exhaling a sigh of relief as her bust no longer occupied his entire field of view. He felt those skilled hands rub his shoulders, massaging gently, moving inward towards his spine. He heard a low, sultry chuckle from her as he flinched at the sensation of her claws trailing down his back.
“Young and stout,” he heard her mutter, her powerful voice resonating through his body in such close proximity. “I can feel how toiling in the temple has shaped you. Body, mind, spirit – a dutiful priest trains all of these things in equal measure.”
His eyes closed, and he feared that he might have fallen over without the support of the water as she ran her fingers up the back of his neck. He was so sensitive there – how was he so sensitive? The delicate touch of her claws against his jugular made his mind boil and bubble like a burning stone dropped into a pool. He could focus on nothing else – could formulate no thoughts, as though her doting massage was the only thing that existed.
“Not a hair out of place,” she remarked as she moved to his head, another wonderful shiver wracking him as those pointed claws found his scalp. “I see how seriously you take your duties.”
“We must ... be pure ... for the temple duties,” he sighed, each rub of her fingers interrupting his train of thought.
“Oh, and I can see how hard you try,” she cooed. “Dutiful little thing that you are.”
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