Story by Custos (Original posting 08 May 2024 on https://inkbunny.net/Custos) Please don’t repost this story, let it remain in my galleries! 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. —— 6. Impala: The Meeting Rite The night is warm and comfortable, and the skies overhead are filled with a thick blanket of bright stars. The mountain of the Protector is standing defiantly green in the middle of the dry prairie, and the impala tribe inhabiting it are mostly gathered at the temple at the very top. Droves of impalas and the occasional visitor are packed together on every inch of free space on the temple’s plateaus, with chieftain Bron and his queen consort Miran occupying their thrones facing the cliff and the enormous landscape before them. The enormous dark brown lion with the black mane, also known as their divine Protector, is sitting at the very edge of the platform and his eyes are glowing a bright hue of blue as he looks up at the many stars from which he once came to save the tribe from certain doom a very long time ago. The couple and the crowd are gasping and excitedly cheering as their divine Protector is summoning a shower of falling stars in a beautiful spectacle across the star-filled sky. Little is known of his divinity, or the exact nature of it, but shaman Dor has always been the voice of their godly lion and had explained to Bron that even gods need to communicate with forces beyond mortal understanding. Which manifests in this beautiful display the entire impala tribe is enjoying tonight, for their Protector does not chastise their presence whilst performing this important work. Rather, he welcomes it and seems to enjoy every moment spent within the presence of his adoring people. It doesn’t happen often, once every few years, but when it does the people rejoice as they’re treated to the rare spectacle few known mortals are privy to. Bron’s parents are sitting on smaller seats next to him, the muscular and virile young twenty-year-old impala male occasionally exchanging glances with them and confirming their sheer wonder at the spectacle is identical to his. Next to Miran on the other side, her parents sit on smaller seats as well, and this being the first time they witness the event they’re absolutely starstruck with amazement. The chieftain lays his hand upon his wife’s, and Miran looks back dreamily into the eyes of her husband as the trailing tails of the falling stars are reflected in her light brown eyes. The twelve-year-old Miran is heavily pregnant, with their marriage ceremony having taken place about ten months prior, and shortly afterwards shaman Dor had confirmed the wonderful news of her pregnancy. She is absolutely gorgeous, her creamy white fur positively glowing in her budding motherhood. Miran’s breasts are swollen and firm with the dark areolae prominently pointing forwards over her beautifully taut pregnant stomach, her free hand gently massaging the enormous bump as it houses three lives within. The day they had married, shaman Dor had imparted onto Bron the prophecy he had been given by the Protector. A gnoll friend of his, experienced in difficult births, would travel to their mountain and aid in the birth of their children. As a reward for bringing the children into this world safely as well as safeguard Miran’s life, the gnoll would be offered the firstborn child to be raised under his guidance. The spiritually gifted girl would be titled ‘Aasim Crocuta’, and return to the tribe once she would be ready to take Dor’s place as its spiritual leader. Her two brothers would be fated to become a strong warrior and hunter, the former destined to step into Bron’s footsteps one day whilst the latter’s destiny is still shrouded in mystery. Bron reaches over and places the palm of his strong hand onto his wife’s pregnant stomach, his eyes filled with love for her and their unborn cubs as he slides it back and forth over the soft yet taut bump. It is only when Miran’s hand grasps his wrist that Bron snaps out of his dreamy reveries and looks up at her. The young girl’s eyes are dreamy as well, but there is something else that the virile male is all too excited to recognise; arousal. Miran had been insatiable from the very moment the two of them had been united under the Protector’s eternal love and guidance, but she has become exceptionally lustful during these last few months of her pregnancy. There is no morning that Bron wakes up without the twelve-year-old girl sucking him passionately or equally excitedly bounding on his length. Though, the latter has waned significantly due to the small teenage girl being unable to sit up long anymore with the weight of her belly pulling her down. Miran brings her husband’s hand to her mouth and kisses it sweetly, her beautiful eyes fluttering at him as Bron can feel his heartbeat increase under the light of the falling stars up above. Then, the girl’s administrations grow slightly more lewd as she opens her mouth and runs the soft side of the tip of Bron’s index finger over her warm wet tongue, swallowing the digit until the last knuckle down her throat. The effect is instant, and the onyx horn covering Bron’s penis slowly starts pointing up more as blood starts rushing from the head above to the head below. The impala chieftain wastes no time and gently lifts his heavy teenage wife from her throne onto his lap, the onyx horn of the legendary warrior Hu’lon and Miran’s ancestor pressed between their stomachs as the girl’s baby bump leans into Bron’s form. Without a single care for their surroundings, as sexual contact is quite a regular public activity in their tribe, the two start kissing each other passionately under the light of the falling stars up above. The two sets of parents on either side of the thrones cast their eyes aside towards their children, smiling at the sight as they too snuggle up into their spouses as they continue to alternate their attention between the beautiful display of the Protector and their kids. Bron’s strong hands are cradling and massaging his young wife’s baby bump as the twelve-year-old embraces her man’s broad neck and shoulders, leaning her weight onto him. Her perky breasts press into the male impala’s firm pecs, her tender nipples seeping droplets of milk into Bron’s fur as Miran grinds onto his lap, her blushing pregnant vulva pressed against the male’s heavy swollen balls and the base of his penis covered by the horn. Feeling the confines of the decorative status symbol squeeze him tighter and tighter, Bron finally reaches in between the two of them and unsnaps the leather strap holding it onto his penis, releasing his member with a sigh of relief as he sets the important tribal heirloom aside. His cock is long and thicker than most other males of his tribe, as is the case with most of his impressive physique. Every time Miran’s eyes behold the stud that is her husband, especially his kind eyes and the glances of endearment he gives her, she falls in love with him all over again. The chieftain allows his rigid member to emerge from between the thighs of his wife as she straddles his lap, the warm slickness of it as it already seeps copious amounts of natural lubricants soothing the ache of her swollen pussy lips as her soft pillows are spread by the length. Miran coos needily as she drags her plump labia back and forth over the skin of her husband’s penis, still embracing his thick neck as his strong hands massage her pregnant baby bump. The unborn within are coming to life as the adrenaline courses through their mother’s veins, little kicks pushing out the skin of Miran’s stomach into Bron’s, which causes the soon-to-be father’s cock to lurch upwards in delight. Bron’s heart is overcome with love and desire, and he lowers his head to first kiss his twelve-year-old wife’s pert lactating nipples before moving down to her taut stomach and kissing where the babies kick. Miran coos a little louder as she grinds her pussy along the top of her husband’s shaft, riling herself and her unborn brood up even further, her voice a whisper as she breathes into Bron’s ear. “They’re wanting to meet their father, my sweet. My plug has been expelled just an hour before the ceremony began. Shaman Dor has examined me and has given us the permission to perform the ‘meeting rite’. It should help induce birth sooner.” Bron is listening to Miran’s words with wide open eyes of surprise and utter happiness, his firm rod slapping upwards against his wife’s beautiful firm butt cheeks as a spritz of precum is launched all over her creamy white fur and the stone pavement before the throne. “Oh. Oh! That’s wonderful, my sweet! Is it… is it safe, then?” Miran nods, continuing to rock herself back and forth as her swollen girlish nipples leave sticky trails of mother milk behind on the firm muscular pecs of her husband, the liquid smelling overwhelmingly sweet and slightly sour. In response to Bron’s question, she simply reaches between her thighs to grab the virile impala’s cock as she raises herself up, grunting slightly at the weight this puts onto her back. She positions the pointy tip of her husband’s feral-shaped cervine’s cock into the slot of her swollen and dripping wet pregnant pussy folds, nearly whining with need as she holds it there. The ‘meeting rite’ is not a real ritual practiced in the tribe, but something affectionately called as such for it allows a very specific and very intimate and lewd sexual act to be performed between a father and his unborn children. The mucus plug sealing away the womb from interference is expelled by the female’s uterus in the very last stages of her pregnancy, basically granting access to the tightest of sphincters in an impala’s body. And a brief window of opportunity for a father to ‘meet’ his unborn brood before they are even born, often inducing birth in the process. Thick beads of precum are already rolling down Bron’s long thick shaft as he is not yet fully realising the implications of the situation, but his body is aflame with lust and his subconsciousness is fully working to get him ready to perform the lewd act he’s about to commit. Slowly and steadily, Miran takes the lead as she lowers herself down upon her husband’s member, the slender and slick rigid length traveling up along her birth canal until it firmly meets the soft mouth of her uterus which is now unprotected by any obstruction. The parents of both lovebirds seem to catch up on the vibe in the air, of something important that is about to happen during the equally rare moment of divine splendour in the sky. Their eyes exchange glances with the couple on the other side of Bron and Miran, the horns around Enun and Gorn’s feral cervine members starting to rise up whilst Phala and Ni’nde’s nipples perk up firmer. In a matter of seconds the wives help their husbands out and release their turgid rods from their ancestral encasings. Miran is cooing and grunting out in effort as she gyrates her hips down upon Bron’s lap, the strong brawny impala male holding her and supporting her as best as she can whilst his head is thrown back in bliss. The very tip of his lengthy member is being teased into the soft unprotected mouth of his twelve-year-old wife’s cervix, the soft velvety tissue giving equally soft little smooches to their impending invader. Bron’s body is twitching in small little convulsions, his primal mating instinct wanting nothing more than to thrust upwards into the chamber where his unborn reside, but his paternal instincts compel him to be careful and tender. The impressive impala male chieftain sits upright more after recovering from his initial surprise, his strong arms embracing his wife’s small slender body as he pulls her into his powerful chest. The twenty-year-old’s dark brown eyes are smouldering with the fire kindled within his loins by the very girl riding him right now, wordlessly communicating to her that he will bless each and every one of their unborn children within her womb before they’re born. Miran’s eyes flutter in exhilaration, for she has no intent to stop fanning the flames of lust within her powerful mate. Slowly and gently, Bron lowers Miran down more onto his lap as the remaining length of his pink slender cervine cock inches upwards into her tight canal. The twelve-year-old impala doe gasps in painful pleasure as the entrance to her womb is slowly opened from the outside, the spritzing tip of her husband lubricating the way as it inches forwards and into the warmth of the tight space beyond. The young girl is lit up by the flash of a particularly bright falling star, her pregnant stomach illuminated beautifully as it is pressed against her husband’s form. Slowly, Miran’s buttocks are descending towards Bron’s heavy balls as they lay upon the edge of his throne, all under the observing eyes of their parents. The first touch is electric. Magical. Bron’s slender tip has made contact with the first life within Miran’s body as for now the virile male’s penis hasn’t broken the seal that protects the unborn within their watery cocoon. The male’s eyes are closed as he embraces his wife to his chest, fully focused on exploring within her as the head of his feral cervine penis slowly slides over the body of the first unborn he meets, through the walls of the amniotic sac still holding them. Miran snuggles her head into the crook of Bron’s neck, simply letting her husband enjoy this magical moment as she too revels in the unique sensations she’s never felt before in her young life. Bron’s penis plies the fragile sac, exploring as it slides over little limbs and along a small body, upwards it seems as the tip then meets a tiny chin and nose. The first baby is situated in a breech position, completely according to the prophecy of the Protector whom predicted a difficult birth. Not letting this dampen his excitement to finally meet his unborn children, Bron manoeuvres his penis down the little body in search for the little one’s genitals. Miran moans out into her husband’s thick neck as she too repositions slightly to accommodate Bron’s exploration, her heavy pregnant form lovingly supported by the impala male’s strong hands as their lips pluck at each other in light passionate kisses. The mother of his children, the love of his life. Bron would gladly sacrifice his own to preserve hers and those of their children. The warmth of the night enveloping them like a warm loving blanket, the light of the falling stars illuminating her beautiful young curves, the first touch between a father and his unborn children… There are no words to describe what Bron is feeling right now, but to say it’s magical is a start. Meanwhile, the Protector is still focused on his communion with the forces up above and beyond, his glowing blue eyes unwavering as the bright spectacle in the night sky seems to increase in intensity. With every gentle thrust of Bron’s hips, another cluster of divine light bursts forth down towards the earth. With every gyration of Miran’s hips, the impala tribe coos out at the splendour in the skies. The slender pointy tip of Bron’s penis searches between the baby’s legs, but the amniotic sac prevents any finer sensation than simply pressure. Despite the Protector’s averted gaze, the impala chieftain feels his presence in this very moment in the warm blanket of air that envelops both himself and his beloved. His dark brown eyes find Miran’s lighter ones, a smile on his lips as he pecks another sweet kiss onto her nose:”I’m going to meet them properly, my sweet. I shall pierce the veil. Are you ready?” Miran smiles back sweetly as well, pecking her youthful kisses along Bron’s muscular neck as she supports herself by embracing it’s thickness:”I am your wife and the queen of this tribe, my sweet. I shall always be prepared for your will. Wherever it may lead us. Go on. Love them.” Two mouths and tongues meet in a burning passionate embrace as below Miran’s heated pink vulva lowers down forcibly onto her husband’s shaft, equally kissing the root and the base of Bron’s penis. The slender tip of the chieftain’s manhood pierces through the fragile sac protecting the unborn and elicits a torrent of warm fluid to be expelled from between the lovers’ thighs, all over the throne and stone floor in front of them. Their parents gasp in surprise, briefly startled but then their cheers burst forth in unbridled happiness. Their song roars forth over the coos of the wondrous crowd, whom quickly catch on to what is happening as their voices too join the chant. Tonight, under the beauty of the Protector’s star showers, a new princess and two new princes will be born! Miran does not hold back, groaning loudly as he body stiffens with the first of her contractions as the convulsion ripples through her, from the top of her spine down towards her tailbone. Bron holds her securely in his strong arms as the tribe bears witness to their ‘meeting rite’ under the celestial light, his body equally frozen in a moment of pure bliss as his manhood lays nestled in the soft fur against the flesh of his unborn. Gently he slides it around, down in between the baby’s plump thighs, only to discover a lack of purse and the presence of a warm chubby cleft. A tear of happiness rolls down Bron’s cheek as he embraces his twelve-year-old wife, his queen, pecking soft tender kisses at her ear as he whispers:”The first one is a girl, my sweet. A dreamer, for she lays bottom first. Just as prophesied.” Miran utters a deep sigh of happiness, squeezing her husband’s broad shoulders in her embrace:”Wonderful news, my sweet. Show her the love of her father, and deliver onto her my love as well.” Bron’s tip gently rubs along the cleft of the unborn baby’s vulva, never ceasing to spritz its warm fatherly precum in rhythmic spurts, lubricating and coating the cub’s nethers and body in a watery layer which is continuously massaged into her skin and fur by the impala male’s length. The sensation of his unborn’s heated pussy opening up readily and willingly as her father’s slender penis head rubs along its entrance is divine, causing jolts of electricity to run along Bron’s spine as well as his child’s. The draining of the warm fluid holding the three bodies within combined with the convulsions of their mother’s womb and the presence of their father’s penis causes the unborn to spring to life. Soon, they will enter this world under the loving presence of the Protector, bathed in the seed of the male that gave them life within their mother’s loins. The impala male’s erect penis gently pries open the lips of his unborn daughter, the heated slick flesh making contact with baby girl’s loins which seem to born hotter than a furnace. Bron’s nostrils flare, his arms clutching his wife even tighter as more and more of the tribe turns to face them in their chant of prosperity and well wishes. Both sets of parents on either side of the chieftain and his young queen have joined their children in revelry, as both mothers have seated themselves onto their husbands’ laps and penises, mimicking the worship Miran and Bron are bestowing upon each other and their unborn. Both Phala and Ni’nde think back fondly of when they were pregnant with Bron and Miran respectively, and sing words of love and protection towards the mother to be. May the Protector safeguard her and her children, their grandchildren. A collective gasp is uttered among the whole tribe, for just as Bron and Miran are losing themselves in the miracle of birth, so too does the intensity of the falling stars increase. Not only that, but a display of divinity they have never seen before unfolds before their very eyes. The Protector’s soul seems to tear itself from his mortal form, the former of which is still stoic like a statue looking up at the night sky. The astral form, as shaman Dor and the chieftain’s bloodline have come to know, has separated itself from the dark brown lion with black mane, radiant and blue in hue like the very stars falling down. The Protector’s mortal form simply sits back down with his back to his astral form, facing the labouring and rutting couple as it simply seems to observe for now. Shaman Dor stares at their god for a moment and then bows his head reverently, as if having received a command. Then, the slender and beautiful spiritual leader takes his leave, taking a set of strong guards with him as he descends the mountain. Their visitor will soon arrive and needs to be guided back up to the temple. Bron is huffing deeply, his chest heaving as sweat is pearling down his muscular brawny form in effort. The tip of his slender cervine penis is guided from the tempting opening between his unborn daughter’s legs towards the other cubs. Contrary to their sister, these two babies are positioned with their heads down towards the exit as normal, which enables Bron to gently greet them by anointing their foreheads and faces with his fatherly sticky love. The spritzing of his penis seems to stimulate the nursing instinct in the both of them, as the unborn babies open their tiny lips and latch onto their father’s tip eagerly, giving weak little suckles for the first time in their lives when not even born yet. Bron is holding back with all his mental fortitude, not wanting the beautifully erotic moment between father and children to be over yet so soon by ejaculating already. Though, he is allowed to do so as per the unofficial ‘meeting rite’, he wants to prolong the most erotic moment of his life for as long as he can. Miran is equally huffing deeply and panting in the increasing pains of labour, opting to lay her head along her husband’s strong neck whilst supporting her pregnant stomach with both of her hands and arms as she’s kneeling on Bron’s long cervine penis. The ripples of pain are doused by the waves of pleasure still radiating from her loins and from directly within her womb, as her connection to her unborn grants Miran the wonderful sensations they’re feeling. Somehow she can feel Bron’s penis caress her skin as if she were inside her own womb, experiencing the gentle stimulation the fatherly impala is imparting between her unborn girl’s legs as the tip of his cock tickles the lips of the baby’s sensitive vulva. The manoeuvring of the warm spritzing tip towards the lips of her other unborn, whom she inherently knows are her sons, as they suckle and partake of their father’s milk for the first time in their young lives whilst not even born yet. The excitement she can feel from them causing the unborn baby girl’s loins to grow slick just as much as the unborn boys grow little stiffies. Bron’s mighty phallus is wedged in between his three children, finally confirming the manhoods of his two sons as he makes direct contact with the tiny erections and pudgy little coin purses. The tightness of the squirming life within his wife’s womb embracing his cock from all sides, worshipping their father’s touch already, it is simply too much for a mortal man of flesh and blood to bear. Powerful squirts of fatherly incestuous semen burst forth from Bron’s slender tip, his length bulging and expanding in the midst of his loving unborn cubs as they squirm and wriggle against his penis. Seed is massaged into the fur and skin of the little babies, into their little balls and cocklets, and directly into the chubby vulva and tail holes. Miran’s clenching womanhood soaks Bron’s loins once more as she too experiences the most earth-shattering orgasm of her life, the crowd cheering and praising the young mother-to-be. An orgasm from a labouring mother is a good omen, indeed. Egged on by his father and father-in-law, Bron does not withdraw from Miran’s loins until he’s made sure his fatherly tip has entered his children’s tiny forms at least once through mouth, pussy, or anus, sealing their eternal bond as parent and child. When finally Bron’s manhood emerges from within Miran’s heated convulsing loins and the grunting does turns to sit with her back towards her husband’s chest on his lap, the Protector’s mortal form stands up and approaches whilst his astral form remains focused on the night sky and is unmoving. The dark brown lion bigger than a hippopotamus with black mane and greenish yellow eyes seems to smile warmly towards the labouring couple as its huge face slowly descends between the two impalas’ wide open legs. The warm nose of the huge feline bumps softly into the moaning Miran’s pregnant stomach, seemingly caressing it tenderly as the broad slick tongue of the divine entity slips out and laps at the taut skin. Miran melts back into her husband’s strong form as Bron holds her steady, the Protector’s warm large tongue dipping down between their legs and cleaning up their combined juices. The divine creature’s touch is magical, leaving behind tingles of pleasure no mortal being can bestow upon another, as it lingers in a warm erotic memory. Finally, the Protector withdraws when both Miran and Bron’s loins are completely clean of any remnant of their arousal and labour. In absence of shaman Dor, the couple is lost for a brief moment, but Bron’s father and mother, Enun and Phala, quickly pick up his task for they too have experienced the upcoming ritual many a time before:”Come, son. Miran. The Protector needs you to join him in his temple. Our invited guest will soon be here. We must prepare for him.” The labouring Miran is helped up by her husband and her father, Gorn, as the nude impalas make their way over towards the impressive stone structure on top of their mountain under the continued falling of stars. A good omen, indeed.