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"Relax, Ofaris. Hold still...let us finish what we have begun."

It should have been easy to calm down when there were a pair of paws roaming his ankles and calves, working a generous helping of blessed oils into his fur and flesh, but all the same, Ofaris was still trembling in their clutches.

Pleasant as it felt to have the stress and tension worked out of his legs, the gazelle wasn't quivering with physical delights: it was the gravity of the situation that kept him shaking where he sat, and the reality that he was running out of time.

He was given no right to delay the inevitable, and no other say in the matter. For reasons beyond his understanding, the goddess had tabbed him to be the next one in line, and in as much, the very same women who he once knelt before were kneeling in front of him, gracing him with their most sacred adornments and, albeit with a hint of hesitance, treating him like he was a holy being.

"When you step through those curtains and into the grand opening, you will no longer be the man that you once were," Elena told him. Among the women that were considered the guards of the palace itself, Elena was perhaps the foremost, often looked to as a paragon of strength and respect...but that morning, she found herself at the foot of a throne, working the last of her portion of oil into the upper thigh of a gazelle that she'd just lost her power over. "And I'm afraid you will be facing trial by fire, Ofaris..."

"What exactly do you mean by that, Elena?"

Brushing the last of the oil into his inner thigh and gazing up at him through the snowy drifts of her tresses, Elena couldn't help a grin at how innocent Ofaris still seemed to be, despite the destiny that had been bestowed upon him. "I mean that there is a woman out there waiting for you...the very first of many that will be given the chance to homage to you, as the new Fount...and she has made quite the generous contribution to our palace to make sure that she's allowed to experience the grace of your fertility today."

Ofaris wasn't a virgin; that wasn't one of the requirements of becoming the Fount, but there were plenty of people who believed that a quiet, slender gazelle wasn't good for anything but being a chew toy for the larger, predatory females that made their way around the palace campus.

How many of them had already experienced what he had to offer was a secret that he kept close to his heart, but when push came to shove, he could only hope that his skills would speak for themselves: being tabbed as the Fount meant that he was to be a vessel of fertility, bestowing motherhood onto the plentiful women that lined up to pray at the palace every single day.

As Lora, Elena and Shian finished working the last of the oils into the warm, chocolate overcoat of Ofaris' fur, the girls stood at the very bottom stair of the raised throne and knelt before the new Fount, having completed their blessing of his flesh and left his body glistening in a way that was becoming of the man he was now believed to be.

It was all part of a ritual that he didn't understand, and to that end, he still wasn't sure why he was the one that the goddess had picked: he didn't feel any different, he didn't look any different, and save for the silken robes that draped over his body and the jeweled adornments that were placed onto the base of his horns, he wasn't dressing any different, either.

It felt as though something was being forced on him, but...to finally be departed from the life of a male palace slave in a matriarchal society...he couldn't have been much happier than that.

From where he once rested, he'd reached such heights that it was akin to an ant climbing all the way from a valley to the top of the highest mountain peak, but somehow, that ant could still see where it came from down at the bottom, as if that reminder was necessary to keep his ego grounded.

Ofaris was a more timid man than that, not carrying any sense of narcissism or arrogance about himself, even when the girls that he once tended to were now kneeling before him with utter obedience.

"...T...Thank you," he stammered out, unfamiliar and genuinely uncomfortable with all the attention that they'd given him. He'd never felt so clean and polished in his life, and to be granted such a treatment from women that were used to being able to literally walk all over him was such an adjustment that he was still dealing with the whiplash when he stepped down from the throne. "I cannot thank you three enough for your gracious treatment today; please, if you can, take the rest of the day to relax, wherever that best suits you."

Stepping past the girls with a only the slightest pause at the final stair, Ofaris quietly hoped that any of them would stop him for a final hug or brushing gesture, but he knew it was not to be: they took their dedication to their roles too seriously for that, and it was not their place to touch the Fount, when he had other duties to attend to.

Getting used to that role, and that aspect of his role, was going to take longer than Ofaris realized, but he wasn't going to have much time to figure things out...and certainly not, when there was a large, gathering place waiting for him down the hallway and out in front of the palace.

Simple stones were decorated on either side with torches where necessary, and up above, gaps were cut into the intricate stone of the palace building, allowing natural daylight to crack through and illuminate passageways during the day.

The society he'd been forced into was one of a certain blend of simplicity and opulence: though the palace itself wasn't adorned with fancier sculptures and statues, everything that was present was kept in excellent shape, and though there were no specific markings around the bases of the columns, or anything inscribed into the massive, stone slabs that made up the floor, everything was perfectly even and symmetrical, such that it took the brain a while to adjust to the sheer perfection of it all.

By then, Ofaris was used to it, but he wondered how such architectural elegance could be possible without the assistance of a deity; it was one of the few things that made him believe in the presence of a goddess in the first place, much less one that had bestowed such an important purpose on him.

That purpose immediately became reality when Ofaris stepped through the middle corridor of the palace, coming out from the most sacred, private chambers that resided within. Through a curtain of blue velvet, he emerged to the crowds of people that were gathered in the common area, just inside the massive, four-story pillars that decorated the front of the palace itself.

There was a common bathing pool in that place where the people of the city could offer subtle, financial donations to the palace and its upkeep, and though it was discouraged, many people threw themselves into the pool, believing the goddess might reward their boldness with the fertility they so desperately sought.

At the very front of a long, crowded line of women was a genuine beauty: fair skin had been kissed by the sun, and upon bare shoulders, long tresses of the void spilled down, framing a narrow face and daring Ofaris' eyes to follow the locks to the cleavage of her breasts.

As the one who was destined to determine who was to achieve motherhood, Ofaris had every right to look upon her body without an ounce of shame about it, but he didn't feel like he could hide from his natural sense of shame anymore than he could hide from the dozens of prying eyes that looked up from the commons when he stepped out into the open.

There were plenty of rumors floating around the streets and sidewalks of the walled city, but the subject of them was standing before the women that had gathered in the commons without the sense of pride in himself that was expected of a Fount: he could still recall the boasting presence that the man before him carried, and for that matter, he couldn't recall what had become of the last one to be touched by the goddess...but it was his turn now, and in as much, one of the palace guards was already escorting the woman at the front of the line to meet him.

Massive staircases surrounded the front side of the palace, beginning just after the common pool and reaching all the way to where Ofaris stood. The center stairway was easy enough to walk, but the steps on the sides were massive , requiring the ilk a giant to be treated as an actual stair.

This design was no accident; the front of the palace was built for self-defense, and those walls were a natural barrier against the outside, but this woman was being escorted as if she was an honored guest.

"Worry not about the stare of the common folk," the guard expressed to him. She gave a stern look to Ofaris, knowing that he wasn't quite prepared for the life he was about to lead...but there was a long backlog of women to work through, and the sooner he got started, the sooner the palace would be able to accept new donations from the rich and high-ranking women around the city. "They wish only to gaze upon you, and they've already drank their fill...but I present you one who still requires further treatment: The Lady Rayvn."

Having seen her from a distance, Ofaris had plenty of opportunity to appreciate how beautiful the woman was already, but up close, there were subtle details that he would have missed before: the glint in her eyes was subtly shaded with a haze of red that seemed unnatural, at least, for a human...and at the corner of her smile, pleasant as it was, he was sure he could see the tiniest poke of a fang slipping over her billowy lips.

There was an aura of danger about her that was greater even than the presence that she already carried, but as The Fount, it was Ofaris' duty to bestow the rights of motherhood upon her.

As it were, there were plenty of people, both inside and out of the city, who had no trouble rearing children. The idea of The Fount and the goddess of fertility that touched him was meant to be a last resort for those who struggled, either with giving birth or becoming pregnant in the first place.

To lay with him and not become pregnant on the next attempt was said to be impossible, and because of such a guarantee, the palace was able to stay opulent: there was no price that people wouldn't pay when it came to the continuation of a family line, the promise of such bountiful fertility, or simply the clandestine desire to be bred.

Everything in Makusa had a price, and literally overnight, Ofaris' cock had a price placed upon it...one that seemed unreasonably high to someone who was always told to look upon his own member with a sense of shame.

"It is an honor to meet you, Fount Ofaris," Rayvn greeted him and lowered her head, showing a reverence that he could already tell he'd struggle to get used to. "And truly, an honor beyond all others that I will be the first to be graced by your fertile touch."

There were no standards of how a Fount was to respond to someone that offered themselves to him, but Ofaris knew that how he behaved that day would set a standard for him to live up to: being respectful only made sense in his mind, so he bowed low, just far enough that the rings on his antlers wouldn't slide from their place.

"The honor is all mine, Lady Rayvn," he answered her in a voice that calm and cordial, but there was a hint of force behind every word. "Would you be so kind as to join me in my chambers? This is not the kind of ritual that should be performed before the eyes of the people."

Though sexuality wasn't overtly shunned in Makusa, it would have been a horrible standard for the new Fount to set: engaging in outright coitus in the commons of the palace.

He was never told not to, specifically, but there was a certain amount of common sense that Ofaris carried into his new role, and with a hooked arm offered to Lady Rayvn, he felt her soothing, delicate fingertips wrapping around his slender bicep. Though there were only lean muscles to feel, she still stroked them with a sense of longing, as if she wanted to impart strength on him, to help him believe it was there.

No doubt was in his mind that they'd picked a woman who wouldn't be afraid to take the lead as his first...the palace guards never made mistakes, and rarely did they make a decision without considering all of the possible repercussions.

This time, they were having to throw someone with far less sensual experience to the lions, and being a gazelle, they quietly expected him to be eaten alive; they'd be able to hear every detail of the act as they stood outside of Ofaris' new quarters.

Elena gazed down at Ofaris with a strange sensibility in her gaze: part of her stare was jealous of the woman that was getting to try him first, now that he was able to be taken...but there was clearly a sense of expectation behind her eyes, wanting to convey to the gazelle the sense of importance that would come with every round he was a part of.

His ears were trying not to wilt, pressured by the weight of the gaze and the bashful, timid nature that was a part of who he was. He still didn't entirely believe that he was the one who should have received the blessing, but now that the decision had been accepted, he was trying to believe it.

That confidence had to come from the inside; though he felt _enticed_by the way that Lady Rayvn gazed upon him when she followed him into the room, he felt like the prey species that he really was, as if she were actually thinking of consuming him.

What she did was far more pleasant than chewing his flesh...though she started by throwing herself at the gazelle the moment the curtain closed behind them.

"Was my bow not low enough?" she asked, pressing her breasts around his arm and immediately nibbling at the side of his neck. "Was my outfit, sparse as it is...not enticing enough for you to bestow your blessing upon me yet?"

She'd worn only a long, black loincloth to cover her womanhood from the front and her rump from the back, but upon her chest, there was only the natural censorship of her aptly colored hair. Even the slightest shift of her body toward him moved those locks away from her cleavage and even revealed a brief slip of a nipple, but her entire body was pressing hard against Ofaris' arm, until her fingertips were forced to find purchase.

There was nothing subtle about the way they raked down the front of his plain, simple robe of white and yanked it from his shoulders, stripping away the sacred garment with a single tug.

"Tell me what I need to do for you, my honorable Fount... please , let me know what it is that I lack!"

She was praying to him before they had a chance to get to the thick of the action, but Ofaris didn't realize that this was still supposed to be a form of a sacred ritual, and that he, in turn, was supposed to answer her not with some distant wisdom or a vague idea that would give her comfort.

His body was the answer, and Lady Rayvn refused to leave without sampling it.

For the first time, Ofaris realized that The Fount, as a position, didn't necessarily have to climax inside of a woman for them to receive the blessing of the goddess. He was merely a conduit, and though he was sure plenty of women left for home after a visit to the temple already bearing a child of the previous Fount, Ofaris was a gazelle...and most of the women who came to the palace for an appeasement wouldn't be able to rear his children.

At least...that was to the best of his knowledge.

"Please, t-take a place on the bed," Ofaris asked her, and for a moment, he was begging for that, as if he thought it a mercy to have time to think and breathe. His body was responding as naturally as it could: Rayvn was gorgeous beyond compare, her skin was moist, dusted with sweat and natural perfumes, and her stare alone would have sent a throb through his cock, if the warmth of her breasts upon his flesh hadn't already done the trick. "I shall...g-grace you there."

It was his first time being with such an aggressive woman, and his first time being with any woman in what felt like ages. His cock was so quick to rise that it betrayed his nervous appearance, and as Rayvn walked past him, she brushed her lips upon his ear, whispering a brief, eager "Yes, Fount Ofaris" into the base of his ear lobe.

Those words floated upon his eardrum for seconds after she'd already moved past him and released the clasp of her loincloth. As her clothes, meager and thin, pooled upon the floor, she crawled into a bed that Ofaris had yet to sleep upon, much less breed someone upon...but as she crawled onto her hands and knees for him, her natural curiosity to an exotic cock took control of her posture.

Going flat on her back and draping her locks over the edge of the plush mattress, she licked her lips and beckoned to him with a finger, realizing already that she was far and beyond his level of experience; she was looking forward to draining every drop The Fount had to offer her; such was the greed of Lady Rayvn.

"Please, allow me to praise you this way instead," she whispered, pleading with her eyes as much as her voice. "Surely your seed will carry the blessing of fertility right into my stomach and spread it throughout my body..."

It was his place to say if that was the way it would work or not...but Ofaris didn't know for sure what answer he was to give.

With his robe pushed away, his cock throbbing before him and his slender body fully exposed, he didn't think he could feel anymore vulnerable than he already did, but the piercing gaze of the woman before him and the eager brush of her tongue against her lower lip left him feeling something more than simply naked.

That vulnerability would have been too much, if his legs didn't have the strength to carry him to the edge of the bed. His hooves clacked with a satisfying, slow gait upon the stone tiles of the floor, and when they settled, there was still a chitinous quiver of them as his legs spread and his length hung in her face, still twitching to a full erection.

The boy was hung , and just navigating the tip was proving a challenge, even for a charged and experienced woman like Rayvn. Her eyes widened just as the tip of his member brushed against her lips, but she knew what she'd come for, and now that it was in her face, nothing in the world could bring her to stop herself.

She looked up at the oiled bodice and full, cleaned flesh of his dick with a new sense of arousal in her eyes, capturing the natural strength of his scent on her nostrils and the taste of his bare skin on her tongue.

Either one would have been enough to encourage her to open wider, but the combination of the two was intoxicating.

"I think...just o-one touch of this glorious cock...m-might be enough to impregnate me," she spoke around his flesh as she kissed all around the tip and navigated the tender flesh, finding it gave just a little when she pressed the full weight of her lips upon it. "But surely, you...in all of your grace and bounty...y-you would be willing to give me more than this touch?"

From outside the door, Ofaris could almost feel Elena demanding that he give her everything that she paid for.

In that sense, it felt wrong that he was going to push his hips forth, but...he was just a man, after all.

He couldn't argue with the sheer, physical bliss of her lips opening wide enough to take the impressive head of his cock, and he couldn't resist the allure of stepping forth and pushing the following inches of his shaft past the roof of her mouth and right into the heated, welcoming depths of her throat.

Feels like I'm gonna cum already...how is she even doing that with her throat?!

Lady Rayvn was able to keep her secrets behind the exquisite clutches of her lips: as her mouth stayed tight around his shaft, her throat worked the tip in a way that he'd never been fortunate enough to feel when he was a lowly groundskeeper.

Though he'd managed to find himself in the middle of a tryst or two before, the society he lived in catered to women and their natural strengths. As a male, Ofaris shouldn't have even been allowed in the palace, much less to have his own room there. His earlier days there, he operated only as a indenture servant...and any time he was bedded, it was at the behest of a needy guard; his pleasure was never taken into consideration.

He felt like a king to be standing and letting a woman do all the work for him, and seeing the overt, unquenchable lust in her eyes, he was starting to believe that there might be something special about him after all.

Certainly, his cock was worth of praise, and though Elena knew that a long time ago, she didn't want that idea to go to his head...she wanted it to be organic and come from someone else when he finally realized how gifted he was.

To see Ravyn struggling the way that she was, he wondered if she might be faking her efforts, but the outline of his own manhood was clearly visible against her bulging neck, and spittle was running down her own cheeks and dribbling into her hair as she kept up her work, eager to know the taste of the new Fount: flesh, seed and all.

"May..."

Ofaris was doing his best to think of what it would be appropriate to say in that moment, but he was straining just to stay upright, much less to come up with words befitting of someone in his important role.

He already struggled with the idea of receiving so much attention, but this was different: this was a woman throwing her best skills and most enticing wiles at him, and at the peak of their union, there was nothing he could do to resist...and the press of her nose against his full, tender sack made absolutely sure of it.

"May t-the...blessings of the goddess...b-be upon you!" he cried out, wincing with a level of bliss and importance that he'd never known before. He could hear Lady Rayvn groaning with ecstasy around her mouthful, and gazing between her legs, he could just make out the sight of her fingertips roaming over her own mound, the heel of her wrist bouncing against the full, erect nub of her clit...

...And it was quite fortunate, as those sounds drowned out the snooping giggle of the guards beyond the curtain.

"Oo-oh...goodness...t-this is truly a blessed offering," he tried to stay professional, as if he believed that a Fount should act in a priestly and reverent manner. "There is n-no..._fuck..._n-no doubt in my mind that she will smile upon your womb, Lady Rayvn..."

Gulping every second and still losing a hint of his seed to the fair surface of her pale skin, the young woman gleefully wiped a fingertip along her own face and collected that mess; turning it into a natural lubricant for her petals might have been considered more than a little sacrilegious, but truth be told, Ofaris didn't know that it was...and he absolutely loved watching someone treat his seed with such desire and respect.

Even the sound of that little, creamy trail mingling with her own juices as she worked her wetness into a subtle froth was calling to him. He wasn't latched onto any ideals just yet, but seeing the way her eyes begged him to go for another round, he thought better of being so passive about everything in life.

He finally had the right to be assertive, but he wasn't ready to be demanding yet. He just did what came naturally as he pulled back and watched a messy, slick trail of spilled cum and saliva pour back with his member; when it was still throbbing, he and Lady Rayvn shared a knowing exchange of ideas without saying another word.

Her eyes begged him to mount her, as she turned in the bed and swallowed her last mouthful of seed...and his told her that he was up to the task as he gently held her from behind and guided the tip of his length into the first womb that he would bless.