Story by Custos (Original posting 05 January 2017 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. —— Standalone: Their Will is Law Dhryn is sitting hunched in the rich foliage of the rather large oasis, the place an explosion of life surrounding one of the extremely rare water wells in this dry savannah. The gnoll is pondering as he traces the tips of his fingers over the muddy soil, feeling the indents made by a creature with small hooves. Drops of dried up blood accompany the tracks, the trail running in between the unsteady prints. The shaman has been following the tracks for quite a while now, gnolls being a scavenging type they don’t usually engage in combat, but certainly don’t mind picking up the spoils other predators leave behind. Dhryn licks his lips and unsheathes a bone knife from his belt, the only pieces of clothing he’s wearing consisting of said belt, a loincloth and a pouch full of herbs and other trinkets he needs for his every day duties as a shaman. Furthermore the gnoll male’s arms are decorated by a few straps of leather, the patterns and colours differentiating from each other wildly as they represent the various species he’s scavenged. Quietly, the gnoll stays low to the ground and sneaks through the bushes as he follows the tracks, the dried up blood becomes more plentiful by the minute. After only a minute or two, Dhryn comes into a small grassy clearing near one of the water springs, a small pond surrounding the crack in the boulders and otherwise the small space is completely shielded from the outside world by foliage. In the middle of the clearing, hanging half into the water of the spring, lies the body of a zebra woman in the grass. A large puddle of red stains the bright green plants it lies upon, as if death has finally found a way to corrupt this place of unspoiled beauty and plenty. The woman’s head hangs down in the water, the liquid still clear and seemingly not tainted yet by the puddle of dried up blood. She doesn’t move and the shaman suspects she will never again on her own volition. Dhryn lowers his bone knife and approaches the corpse, carefully poking it with the sharp object in vulnerable places to test whether she’s really dead. The shaman has certainly seen his share of death, his mind in conflict with itself on the matter of whether he actually wanted to find his prey alive or dead. He puts down his knife and crouches next to the body, placing his hand on the woman’s voluptuous asscheek to feel that she’s still very warm. Such is the cycle of life, eat or be eaten. With some effort, the much smaller male is able to drag the corpse out of the pool and onto its back, the first thing jumping into view being the enormous mound that is her belly. Instantly the gnoll hunches forward and presses his ear to the pregnant mound of flesh, listening, prodding it with his fingers when suddenly he can feel movement inside. The shaman prods around the belly some more, testing whether the foals can exit into the world the natural way, but it doesn’t seem the female has had any contractions yet. Deciding not to waste time, Dhryn picks up his knife and a few minutes later has two wriggling little wailing balls of life lying on the gnoll’s loincloth in the grass. The now naked gnoll washes his bloody forearms into the pool and then cuts off a huge leaf from a nearby bush to cover up the dead mother for the time being, hiding her as if he’s the one who committed the deed. His eyes turn back around to the wailing foals as he hunches near them and studies them more in depth, now that he has the chance. They both are white with brown stripes, though their fur is struck with the blood of their mother, and both appear to be female as the gnoll observes a set of plump little lips between both of their legs. The gnoll shaman stays his ground for a few moments, contemplating the possible expectations lain upon him by the spirits of the savannah. For some reason, he can’t shake the feeling that this scenario may have been put in motion and that his following actions may have consequences beyond the reach of his own understanding. Dhryn’s arm extends and he parts the legs of one of the foals, his digits rubbing and opening the black lips of the newborn’s vagina, peering at the moist and warm pink inside. He can feel his already bared but limp penis give a happy throb in anticipation, as if his member had a mind of his own. Dhryn’s hunger had vanished for the time being, perhaps this is the cause for his much more benevolent decision as he grabs his loincloth and drags both newborn zebra girls towards the edge of the pool. Slowly the gnoll male lowers himself in the cool water as he picks up one of the foals and dips her down into the water, washing the residue of her ordeal off her fur. The little one still wails her birth cries, although they’re slowing down, and immediately latches on to the gnoll’s black nipple sticking from his fur. A shiver runs down Dhryn’s spine as he allows the baby to suckle him, though nourishment won’t be provided it might help the little one to calm down. Meanwhile the gnoll’s fingers busy themselves between the foal’s legs, prodding and rubbing the black swollen lips of her sex. While the foal’s hungry mouth suckles the shaman’s black nipple, the gnoll’s finger carefully seeks up her entrance and slowly pushes a fingertip inside. This action evokes an instant reaction as the baby girl kicks out her legs in a frog-like motion, whining around Dhryn’s nipple. The gnoll doesn’t stop, though, his finger slowly sinking inside, testing her out as it finally bottoms out completely inside. Dhryn’s cock stands completely at attention as it pokes out of the pool’s surface, throbbing in anticipation of something extremely taboo and pleasurable. Dhryn withdraws his finger and pulls the baby off his nipple, laying her back down on his loincloth at the edge of the water as he then holds both little legs up in the air and dives between them. His pink tongue darts out and laps all over the chubby lips of the newborn’s sex, making her cry out in confused wails of pleasure. He grabs her little hips and pushes his tongue into her soft swollen cunny as deeply as possible, eliciting another loud gasp but oddly no sound as her newborn body twitches and spasms in what seems like an orgasm. Dhryn grins as he slowly drags out his pink tongue, slathering the black twitching pussy with another layer of saliva as the newborn has quieted down, almost dozing off even as she has experienced her very first climax at the tongue of the skilled shaman. The gnoll can’t stop grinning as he’s managed to take the little one’s feyrn so quickly, the gnollish word for virginity and the process of popping a cherry. His eyes then turn towards the little one’s sister, still covered in red as her wails aren’t as loud as before either, probably getting tired. Dhryn’s penis twitches violently as his tongue laps all over and around the second baby’s body, cleaning her from the metallic taste in every nook and cranny. Just when the gnoll is about to slide his finger inside of the second newborn’s pussy, the strangest thing happens. Right before his eyes, the plump black little lips of her sex close up tightly and his finger can’t find entrance. Puzzled, Dhryn raises the whining girl up in the air and places her plump vulva onto his muzzle, attempting to lick and loosen up the muscles to get inside. But however hard he wriggles his tongue, the pussy lips just don’t open. Growing intrigued and his penis slightly frustrated as it throbs angrily, Dhryn lowers the baby down as he stands half in the water, peering at the newborn’s face. He leans in and closes his lips to hers, his tongue darting out and battling in dominance to the newborn foal’s much smaller pink tongue. With some effort, he feels her cunny once more and it seems to loosen up slightly but as soon as he tries to penetrate her with his finger, she closes up like a clam would when it feels endangered. Parting their mouths, the panting gnoll’s lips still connected to the now heavily breathing baby’s lips by means of a saliva strand, Dhryn is visibly perplexed. Then suddenly, the scent of blossoms and grass in spring waft through the air, surrounding them as Dhryn’s pupils dilate heavily and then shrink back down to normal size. It almost feels like a hand is enclosing his member and gently masturbating him, the gnoll sluggishly looking down to see his cock still throbbing just above water level. As if intoxicated, the shaman’s arms slowly lower the baby a little because her weight seems to increase, his eyes focused on her tiny pussy as the plump lips seem to part once more the closer they get to the gnoll’s erection. Dhryn tries to stay alert, lifting the baby up once more in a rebellious act to go against this power overtaking him and right before his eyes the zebra baby girl’s slit closes up again. Once more, Dhryn lowers her down, the invisible hand milking his member and pointing it directly at the baby’s vulva, the black swollen lips of her vagina opening like a flower the closer they get to the pre-cum leaking tip of the shaman. Slowly and with a gentleness the gnoll hasn’t mustered many times before in his life, the black cock head places a sticky little smooch right in between the chubby lips of the baby, a strand of excitement connecting the two of them before he pushes the tip to her pussy once more. Feeling encouraged and at peace, the shaman now cradles the tiny form of the newborn baby to his stomach and gently lowers her further, his balls grazing the surface of the water as his bulbous cock head slowly presses into the foal’s most sacred of places. There is still a little resistance, but after just a moment or two, his tip suddenly pops inside and without a stop Dhryn’s shaft then sinks inside at a steady pace. The baby cries out softly, much more softly then Dhryn had expected, the spirit enchanting them both apparently as it encourages the act, requiring a tribute from the gnoll shaman to her fertility. About halfway down his shaft, Dhryn bottoms out inside the newborn baby’s cunt and he slowly starts both raising her up and withdrawing his hips, both working to pump the shaft in and out of the tiny vagina. Dhryn’s balls cause ripples in the water as he hunches forward into the baby girl, his lips darting down as he suddenly seeks up the baby’s mouth again, pressing his tongue deeply into her throat. Every thrust causes his cock to sink a fraction of an inch more inside of her petite body, the little one unable to grunt or cry out with the adult gnole male’s tongue wriggling down her throat. The invisible force closes its grap once more around the still revealed part of his shaft and balls, Dhryn growling out into the baby foal’s mouth as he suddenly gives an extra deep push, his shaft pulsing and throbbing as a torrent of hot gnoll semen is released into the baby’s underdeveloped birth canal and womb. Drops of thick gnoll seed starts dripping from around his shaft where it hugged tightly by the newborn’s chubby lips, Dhryn frozen for a few minutes in time as his only conscious thought is focused on the unearthly pleasures emanating from their loins. The haze lifts and the sounds of the wind and birds return to Dhryn’s ears as he slowly returns to reality, his member giving a last couple of twitches before the vice-like tight grip of the newborn girl’s pussy pushes his adult fat cock out. He blinks his eyes when the cries of the foal reach his ears once more, the gnoll looking down between them to see her stretched pussy wide open. He wades a few steps forward to the edge and lies the crying girl next to her dozing sister, pressing his snout between her chubby legs as he starts cleaning up her gaping hole from his own seed. The soothing warm laps of his tongue quickly quiet the baby down, Dhryn still unsure if what just transpired was a hallucination or reality. Perhaps he should keep the spoils of this scavenging hunt around, at least for a little while.