Story by Custos
(Original posting 15 december 2016 on https://inkbunny.net/Custos)

Please don’t repost this story, let it remain in my gallery on inkbunny!
This story contains material for adults only, do not read if you’re a minor.
The material presented is fictional and for adult fantasy only.
The author does not condone any of the depicted illegal activity in real life.

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1. Impala: Divine Beginnings

The cosy fire crackles in the middle of the large tent made of logs and hides as the many fawns and cubs gather around it. A pair of feral wolves lie behind the smouldering flames, snoozing and not minding the crowd any. The night sky littered with twinkling stars is visible through the hole in the top of the tent, the fire’s smoke rising up through. At the entrance of the tent the tribe’s shaman Dor greets the last parents as they bring their son and daughter. The shaman hugs the woman, the female impala only wearing a loincloth as her bare breasts are pressed to the male’s chest. Her youthful age still grants her bosom the pertness of a teen, her beautiful black nipples poking through the short creamy fur as they rub against Dor’s body. The male bovine smiles at her and then directs his gaze towards her mate. The other male’s horns and body are almost the same as Dor’s, slender and almost feminine as their species tends to grow into, his horns more curved backwards while the shaman’s reach towards the sky. Dor’s hand turns its palm upwards and lowers itself, just like the other male’s, as they both reach down and gently cup each other’s balls whilst giving a light squeeze.

In this tribe males greet each other by means of the hand, both have to fondle the other as a sign of mutual respect and trust, for the testicles are very delicate organs indeed. Adult males of the tribe must be greeted in this manner, lest they perceive great disrespect. Their garb allows this, for males usually only wear a hollow horn of one of their ancestors around their penis whilst leaving their sacs bare, aside from that they decorate their bodies minimally. Young males between six summers old and before their first wetness have to wear leather pouches to support their developing balls whilst leaving their penises bare. They are instead greeted with a playful squeeze of their shafts, symbolically reminding other males of the playfulness and innocence of youth. Girls wear nothing at all until their first bleed and after that only don a modest loincloth, leaving most of their development for the world to witness and marvel over.

Dor the shaman then withdraws his hand, chatting a few more minutes with both parents before waving them goodbye and closing the tent flaps. He smiles at the many eager faces as he steps towards his seat before the fire, his long slender body almost feminine as he elegantly moves forward. His bouncing hefty sac betrays his manhood, though, as well as the horn covering his penis and his flat chest. The shaman’s also wears shoulder guards made from long blueish black feathers, flowers woven into the long hair flowing down from his head.

The impala shaman sits down and then claps his hands together as his grin grows broad:”Well then, children. Are we ready for some stories?”
His infectious smile is quickly spreading through all the small faces present as they start shouting for their personal favourite to be told. The shaman gestures them to simmer down as he pulls a little boy onto his lap, giving the cub’s tiny package a playful squeeze:”What about you, little Tyr? Which story do you want to hear?”
The tyke couldn’t be more than five summers old, not wearing anything at all as he giggles at the shaman’s touch, immediately shouting out:”The Protector story! The Protector story, please!”

The adult bovine smiles and readjusts the cord around his hips holding the horn around his penis upright and in place, continuing to hold the boy as he directs his gaze to the others:”The story about how our tribe was formed. Not a bad choice. Is everyone comfortable?”
The cubs nod eagerly and shuffle a little closer to the shaman and the fire, some of the older kids placing the smaller ones on their laps to see better. Dor smiles again and hushes the fawns with his finger before his lips, the room growing quiet except for the crackling of the fire.

“The Protector is a huge beast, larger than a feral hippo, who lives inside the stone built temple at the top of our green mountain. Our home is a landmark which can be seen from hundreds of miles away in the surrounding savannah and an oasis of growth in the middle of this dry land. As I said, the Protector is a huge beast whom usually takes on the form of a dark brown feral lion with a black mane, but he has been known to take on other forms in times of need. The very first of these old tales goes that he even has an astral form, a shape in which he becomes the very constellations from the sky at night, shining as a beacon through the darkness. It is in this form that he approached the very first impala warchief of our tribe, more years ago than anyone can accurately recount.”

Pausing for dramatic effect, Dor’s eyes scan the room as the many faces stare at him intently. His hand absentmindedly strokes the stomach of the boy on his lap, the tyke looking up and just as engrossed in the setup of the shaman’s tale.

“The tale goes that one night our then nomad tribe was attacked by other more savage tribes in the savannah, like large cats, prairie dogs and gnolls. Our tribe was fleeing but would surely perish, when suddenly the night sky exploded into heavenly light. A huge lion beast made out of starlight came to the aid of our tribe, thundering down from the clouds and driving the predators off as he made the very stars fall down upon them. You may have heard the name of this battlefield, the ‘Night Pools’, as the holes made by the stars filled up with water and are now a place for feral beasts to drink and bathe.
The warchief back then, Un’de, threw himself down at the feet of the magnificent beast and proclaimed he could never repay the debt for saving his tribe from demise. He was ready to repay the debt with his life, if the beast wished to take it. The Protector, gentle and kind, had comforted the warchief instead and gave him directions through the mouth of the tribe’s shaman, as only he had the ability to understand the divine beast’s speech. Our tribe was to travel to this very location, where the earth had risen to reach upwards high towards the clouds. We were to settle here and build the Protector a home and temple made if stone at the top. He told the warchief Un’de that he would protect our tribe and all its descendants as long as we honoured his will as law.”

Dor looked around the warm space again as the cubs listened to his story, still the only sounds were that of the crackling flames behind the shaman:”And thus our tribe became protected by the divine entity that is our Protector. Our tribe honoured him and adopted the rituals that he whispered into the shaman’s ear, prescribing that he would attend every important milestone in every member born into our community. For no impala was too great or too small to be under his caring embrace.”

For the first time, Dor was interrupted when one of the older boys piped up with a question:”What are those milestones, shaman Dor?”
The adult impala male looks at the boy and smirks:”As if you don’t know, Lan, you’ll have your first wetness soon and you’ll appear before the Protector in the rite to manhood!”
The young teen who had spoken up blushes and unconsciously grabs his exposed penis which will be covered up with a horn of his ancestors during this rite, and he will finally be called a man. Dor chuckles and continues as he draws symbols in the air with his fingers:”These important milestones are birth, coming of age, marriage and finally death. Everyone knows they will meet our caretaker at these crucial points and knows they’re blessed with his love and protection.”

The curiosity of the children didn’t seem satisfied yet, thus Dor stands up the little boy on his lap onto his knees, present his small body for everyone to see as he gently cups the fawn’s balls:”When you are born, the Protector reads and presents every child with their destined path. Of course you won’t remember this moment, but the coming of age ritual is the next time you’ll personally meet him. According to his will, boys whom have not produced the life giving fluids yet and whom are under six summers old don’t wear anything to cover up their cute little penises. From six summers on, their balls start developing more actively.”
Dor gives the giggling boy’s sac a few massaging squeezes as he presents them in the palm of his hand to the small crowd:”That’s when you buys get to wear a leather pouch, blessed in his seed, to hold and cradle your little balls. This symbolizes a token of his caring embrace and his involvement in your development. When you experience your first wetness, you will undergo the rite to adulthood in the Protector’s presence and a horn of one of your ancestors will be placed upon your penis by your father. No longer will your balls be cocooned and protected, but hang free to be greeted by fellow men and free to produce much more of the life giving semen.”

Again, the same boy pipes up as he watches the shaman fondle the little boy:”What about the girls, shaman Dor? Doesn’t the Protector have rules for them?”

Dor places down the boy onto the hide covered floor in front of him as he then beckons a girl around the same age to him. The tyke eagerly toddles over as the bovine male picks her up and stands her up on his knees like he did before with the boy:”The Protector has since the very start made clear that the women of our tribe are no more or less than the men, they can become warriors, gatherers, spiritualists or even warchief just as much as men can. The only difference is biological, whilst we men have our penis and balls…”
And the shaman demonstrates by unsnapping the cord, lifting the horn off his penis and fondling his hefty sac, making the balls rise up a bit in front of the crowd, “Women have the vaginas through which we send our sacred seed to plant a new life into their stomachs. They have no need for support as their genitals develop on the inside of their bodies, thus they don’t need to wear anything. In fact, the Protector only wants girls to cover up their vaginas from their first bleed on, to avoid older but still virile men to plant their seed in their bellies before a younger man closer to their age could.”

Whilst explaining and showing the little girl’s slit off to the rest of the fawns, the shaman is unable to resist as he gently tickles the tip of his finger in between the girl’s chubby lips. She coos and holds on to Dor’s arm around her flat stomach as his finger becomes a little more persistent, entering the very tip of it inside her little pussy:”A girl’s first penetration is traditionally from her father or another close family member, and this usually happens during the birth ritual and from then on. As long as there is mutual respect and consent, anyone of any age is free to explore and play sexually, but as soon as the girl has her first bleed all sexual activity must stop until her future husband plants a seed inside her tummy. After that point they can resume sexual conduct with anyone they please again.”

The situation and his explanation have caused Dor’s penis to chub up and stand half at attention, his member long and slender in full erection like most of the cocks of his tribesmen. The uncut tip slowly peeks into view as the skin rolls back, his member pulsing and becoming harder with each throb. Most of the cubs have taken to fondling themselves, the older ones a little more thorough than the little ones, as Lan huskily pipes up once more:”What about the tribe’s males and females whom only mate with their own side? And what about our feral allies? What rules does the Protector have for them?”

Dor snaps out of the dreamy state in which he had unconsciously urged the girl standing on his lap to lower down a bit so he could touch the tip of his penis to her slit, gently prodding it between her now sticky lips:”What? Oh, you mean our tribesmen whom are attracted only to their own sex. Well, as you can clearly see, the Protector encourages sexual contact in most forms and this is not an exception. We have plenty of same-sex couples whom are married under his loving touch. As long as his will is honoured and the traditional rituals and greetings are not disturbed, anyone is free to choose a mate or more mates as they please.”

The shaman then lowers the girl back to the floor as she stands between his legs now:”As for our feral allies, the Protector highly encourages every tribe member to sample a variety of their produce from birth on, male and female, and to treat them sexually like you would any other of our tribe.”
Dor lets out a lower whistle and the until now very quiet unnoticed wolves behind the fire perk their ears as they lift themselves up, stretch, and then casually stroll towards the impala male. Dor smiles and lowers his hand with turned up palm, the male of the two wolves walking over and bringing his underbelly within reach for the shaman so he could fondle the animal’s sac. The beast then responds in kind by dragging his tongue slowly and thoroughly over the bovine’s hefty sac.

Some of the younger children are confused when the female also walks over to present her hind quarters to the shaman, the impala male eagerly rubbing his fingers over the animal’s pussy lips, causing her hips to thrust a little as he slips inside briefly. She then licks his balls as well, one of the younger children posing a question:”I thought only big males need to be greeted this way?”
Dor smiles and nods as the wolves now flank him on both sides:”Indeed, but remember these are our feral allies. Their intelligence and sense for ritual is much less advanced than ours and thus it’s easier for them to remember that all animals must show this respect for our males, male or female. So don’t deny one a greeting or they might feel rejected. In fact, let’s practice the greetings with our feral friends since we seem to be a bit rusty on the topic. And then off to home and bed.”

The fawns groan, not wanting their weekly story time with the shaman to be over yet, but they obediently form lines as they approach both animals, starting to greet them under Dor’s guidance. Many little hands and fingers fondle the furry orbs of the wolf as well as rub and slip inside the female wolf’s folds, the she-wolf visibly becoming wet and aroused. The male wolf clearly enjoys the attention too as his pink pointy tip peeks out of his sheath and drips pre-cum on the hide covered floor. Their tongues bathe the many little sacs and penises presented to them as the young boys giggle and the older boys moan out at the warm wet feeling caressing their intimate parts. The girls seem a bit disappointed that the wolves won’t lick their vaginas, Dor picking up on it:”Why don’t you try pretending to be a feral yourself and help each other out?”
The many girls and some boys quickly and eagerly get to it as some get on all fours to lick the chubby cute slits, hands caressing little penises and sacs as pink tongues wriggle all over and in between the young girl’s clefts.

Dor is not unaffected and his hard as iron rod is trembling for some attention at the sight of a mini orgy going on between the cubs. He gently pulls the female wolf with her backside in between his legs and wastes no time in sinking his long slender erection inside her already very lubricated folds. She throws her head up and howls softly in pleasure, her hind quarters starting to hunch uncontrollably as the shaman reaches between them and uses his finger to tickle her clitoris in between her folds. His thrusts are rhythmic and slow-paced, not wanting to shoot off too early. Meanwhile the children continue to watch their spiritual leader as he mounts the she-wolf, continuing their play as some of them have crawled underneath the male wolf and treat him to some nice tongue action. Dor’s hefty balls swing and bounce back and forth against the wolf’s hind quarters, the feathers on his shoulder guards dancing in his movements as he can no longer control himself:”Aah, Protector be praised…”

With those words, Dor’s balls pull up inside their sac as his shaft pumps the life-giving fluid of pure male essence deep inside the wolf’s womb. He holds her still by the hips, continuing to lightly hunch until he’s completely spent and too sensitive to go on. When he withdraws from her, the female wolf’s folds close up but can’t prevent some of his seed to drip out. When the panting Dor sits back down and realizes his pupils are looking at him intensely, he chuckles and says:”Go on, you can sample.”
They all gather around the female wolf and many little fingers disappear between her folds, gathering the shaman’s sacred seed as they pop the digits into their mouths for tasting.

As the first parents arrive to pick up their cubs, Dor notices a little girl with somewhat of a dismayed expression, her body language grumpy. He turns her to face him:”Precious little one, what’s wrong?”
The little girl speaks:”I just don’t think it’s fair that girls don’t get greeted like the boys!”
Dor can barely hold back a chuckle as he keeps a straight face and explains:”Well, little one, back when the Protector first entered our tribe, the females were much more reserved about their bodies than the males. Even to this day, in my experience, girls and women are still much more shy and reserved about their bodies than men. But to put your worries at rest, if a girl wants to be greeted like a a male, she needs to make this known and respect will be shown!”

The girl’s mouth drops open as her expression grows into a smile once again:”Really? Honestly? How?”
Dor can’t suppress a chuckle any longer:”If you’re ever in the situation where a man, or woman, needs to be greeted, just push your hips forward and spread your legs. Anyone will know that you want to be greeted the same way like a male and will fondle your cute little pussy as a token of respect.”
Promptly, the girl ceremoniously spreads her legs and pushes her hips forward, her hands cocked on her hips as she grins wickedly:”Like this?”
The shaman’s spent cock gives a twitch at the girl’s eagerness and he laughs softly, reaching forward with open palm as he cups the cub’s pussy, fondling it and pushing his middle digit in between her lips:”Yes, just like that.”

Satisfied, the little girl runs to the other girls to tell them about what she’s learned, more and more parents retrieving their children and saying goodnight to the shaman until he remains alone with the wolves in his tent. He plops down onto the makeshift bed behind the bonfire and yawns sleepily when suddenly his two wolves join him, nuzzling him with needy whimpers:”Oh, guess you guys didn’t get off yet, did you? Okay, but quickly then.”
Whilst fingering the female, he grabs the male’s fully exposed canine cock and slowly brings it towards his face.

Howls of pleasure echo through the night almost instantly, signalling the shaman has finally gone to sleep to anyone around.