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It had been nearly 200 years since the great war between the carnivores and the herbivores had ended. Through intrigue, betrayal, and deceit, the tigers had brought the fighting to an end and emerged from the war as the only remaining carnivores. The leaders of the two remaining warring factions subsequently agreed to a ceasefire to prevent further unnecessary bloodshed.

It had been a high-stakes game, and both sides knew it. They had chosen the lesser evil in the hope of a better future.

After the death of the herbivores’ leader, the Tigers had exploited the resulting power vacuum and seized control of the jungle. The Great Khan, leader of the Tigers, had ascended to the throne and used the herbivores’ disunity and weakness to impose his terms for a lasting peace upon them.

When the Khan’s messengers arrived at the various tribes to deliver the tiger leader’s invitation, they were met with suspicion. It was clear to everyone that the tigers would not give up meat just because the war was over, and all feared what consequences this would have for the herbivores.

The Great Khan had convened a gathering of all the animal species of the jungle, at which he intended to announce how the tigers envisioned future coexistence with the herbivores. Absence from this gathering would not be tolerated; the Khan’s messengers had made that very clear.

So the various tribes sent their emissaries to the Temple of the Tigers, a building they had always avoided, as far back as they could remember. Death dwelled there, and anyone who came too close to it never returned.

…

On the evening of the assembly, the herbivore delegations were welcomed by the Tiger Priestesses and escorted through the temple corridors to the great hall, where the Great Khan would receive them. Many of the herbivores had imagined the temple as a dark cave, its corners piled high with the remains of their fallen comrades and teeming with bloodthirsty beasts. They were all surprised to find a brightly lit, clean pyramid, its corridors adorned with ancient murals and reliefs. Their guides were not bloodthirsty monsters either, but benevolent priestesses dressed in white robes who spoke softly; their friendly yet firm manner inspired confidence.

One by one, the various envoys were led into the great hall, where a large table dominated the center of the room and the Khan’s throne stood against the back wall.

Around the throne, the tigers had draped the heads and skins of the other carnivores as a sort of display of power. A morbid display of their fighting strength and supremacy, but it did not fail to have its effect, for the herbivores were shocked and intimidated by the brutality emanating from this display.

“The Great Khan will join you shortly; please take a seat.”

The priestesses explained this to everyone they escorted there that evening. Only when all the envoys were present were the doors to the great hall closed, and they were left alone. Nervousness spread almost instantly among those present. Fear and uncertainty about the Khan’s true intentions fueled the herbivores’ imaginations as they waited for their host.

Their concerns were further stoked when they noticed movement in the upper galleries of the hall. The Khan’s warriors took positions above the envoys, openly displaying their weapons. The assembly grew restless, and the first voices were raised, calling the gathering a vile trap.

Just before the mood could actually turn sour, however, a small door in the back wall of the hall opened and the Great Khan entered the room. He wore a formal blue robe that identified him as the ruler of the tigers, and he was followed by a small delegation of tigresses, all of whom were clad in very skimpy green robes. One of them carried a rolled-up parchment.

“Greetings. I hope your journey was pleasant and uneventful.”

The leader of the tigers began in a loud, firm voice as he strode purposefully toward his throne.

“I think you can guess why I have summoned you all here.”

He continued, stopping beside his throne to look around the room. The herbivores present shifted restlessly in their seats; some whispered quietly to one another. The Great Khan nodded slowly, visibly satisfied.

“We have all fought long and endured many hardships to now enjoy a lasting peace. The losses of recent years have been enormous, and some species did not survive.”

Not without irony, the tiger gestured toward the trophies of his former allies on display before continuing.

“It is all the more important now that we find a way to truly secure this peace for the long term.”

His voice took on a jovial tone as he slowly sat down on his throne.

“For peace to endure, my warriors must be sated.”

Demanded the Great Khan, sounding as though it were the most natural thing in the world for his warriors to continue feasting on the bodies of herbivores. He lowered his voice slightly and then voiced what those present had already feared.

“That means they will hunt and kill.”

At this statement, the unease among his guests grew, and what had been quiet whispering just moments ago was now an open ‒ albeit still restrained discussion among the individual prey animals, culminating in loud outbursts.

“Then nothing has changed. We will continue to be slaughtered so that you may live in abundance!”

Shouted one of the water buffaloes present, who had risen from his seat and was pointing an accusing finger at the Khan. He hadn’t quite stood up yet when the warriors in the upper tiers had already taken up a fighting stance. Before the situation could escalate, however, the leader of the tigers had already stopped his fighters again with a simple gesture. To most of the herbivores, this simple display of his authority over his men was impressive, while others found it remarkable that he remained so completely calm. The only other reaction the Great Khan showed was a smile in which his fangs flashed as he waited for the water buffalo to calm down again.

“Yes, we will continue to satisfy our hunger at your expense. That is an inescapable law of nature. The strong that is us devour the weak that is you.”

The Khan declared this with a composure that could be frightening.

“But, of course, I can understand that this is not entirely in your interest. I am therefore also in the interest of lasting peace willing to offer you a way out. A way in which we can at least steer this barbarism into somewhat orderly channels.”

He explained, leaning forward on his throne and resting on his knees, his hands held in a perfect Scholars’ Cradle, and flashing a predatory smile. The eyes of the entire jungle were fixed on him, which he clearly relished.

“My warriors will cease hunting; they will no longer procure their own food, at least for the most part. In return, every species in the jungle will make a sacrifice every other week. This sacrifice will come to us of its own free will and offer itself to us as a tribute for the peace we all enjoy.”

With these words, he opened his hands in a gesture that underscored his offer. Then he paused, letting what he had said sink in for a moment, while he leaned back and tickled the chin of one of his concubines, who had gathered around his throne.

His offer had the expected effect, for the herbivores present immediately began discussing among themselves again. The volume among the discussants quickly rose, and accusations were once again voiced.

The atmosphere was boiling over, but just before it could descend into chaos and unrest among those present, the Great Khan finally raised his hand in a gesture asking for silence and rose from his throne. The smile had not left his lips as he took a few steps toward the assembled animals, his hands spread wide open.

“Should the sacrifice not appear willingly, my warriors will fetch a sacrifice, or two, or three… depending on how much resistance is offered.”

He began in a tone accustomed to being unchallenged.

“And before you start rebelling now, remember how much my warriors can consume when they’re enraged. One in other words, one...”

He held up a long, clawed finger.

“...sacrifice every two weeks is a reasonable offer. We’ll let you live your lives; we’ll trade, and we won’t stop your trade. I even encourage you to lead a good life. You shall lead a good life without having to fear that jaguars will prowl around the houses at night or that wolves will lie in wait for you in the thicket. We will take care of your safety. We...”

His hand swept across the hall and encompassed the warriors of his tribe.

“…have driven away the other carnivores, have ensured that the war is over, and will practice frugality for the good of all.”

His voice had taken on a solemn tone, and a benevolent smile played around his lips as he once again clasped his hands in front of him, forming a perfect Scholars’ Cradle. His steps were slow but powerful, showing that he was in no hurry as he crossed the great hall and approached, leisurely yet inexorably, the large table where the representatives of all species sat. Those present followed his every step, and when he finally reached the table, he braced himself against its edge with his massive paws. He lowered his voice and glanced left and right as he continued.

“Will you accept this offer, or will my warriors go hunting again tomorrow and take what they need to survive?”

His words had barely faded when murmuring began again at the table as the animals consulted one another. The volume quickly rose again into a heated debate, whereupon the Great Khan straightened up and took a step back from the table. Waiting patiently, the leader of the tigers listened to the arguments the others were shouting at one another. He was in no hurry to calm the herbivores; after all, they had nothing to lose. The tigers would get their meat; they always did. One way or another, it didn’t matter.

Then an angry cry rang out from one end of the table.

“So to you, we’ll be nothing more than cattle. Fast-growing, docile cattle who, to make matters worse, even come to the slaughterhouse of their own accord?”

The Great Khan turned toward the source of the shout and nodded at the water buffalo with a smile.

“If that’s what you want to call yourselves, well, then you shall be cattle.”

He admitted openly, taking a few steps toward the buffalo.

“But cattle that lives in peace, that need not fear an attack, that can grow and thrive, and yes, every two weeks comes to my slaughter block and lays its head upon it of its own accord.”

The Khan listed these points and stopped halfway toward his interlocutor; then his expression changed, growing darker, and he folded his hands in front of his body again.

“Or you will become cattle that lives in constant fear that my warriors will raid your settlement to feed themselves. It is entirely your decision.”

His voice was matter-of-fact, serious, and he strove to keep any emotion out of it, which he almost succeeded in doing, but even before he had finished speaking, another cry rang out from the other side of the table, and the Great Khan turned to face the next one who was loudly voicing his displeasure.

“But a member of our community, every two weeks… There aren’t that many of us… The others have more members. Don’t our lives carry more weight than those of the others?”

A murmur rippled through the circle as the animals turned toward the speaker. The Great Khan fixed him with his gaze for a moment it seemed as though he were pondering it but then shrugged.

“Work it out among yourselves. I distribute the burden across all shoulders. Every species is treated equally. Under me, there is no one who has an advantage, and no one whom I treat differently from everyone else. Then mate, produce offspring, or bring in fresh blood from outside the jungle, or make an agreement with one of the other races. I basically don’t care which of you walks the Path of All Flesh in two weeks’ time. Old, young, healthy, weak… it doesn’t matter. One sacrifice from each species every two weeks, or my warriors will ensure my belly is filled.”

He still spoke calmly, but a slight edge could be heard in his voice. When no direct answer came, he slowly turned away from the table and walked back to his throne. Halfway there, he looked at one of his concubines and winked at her, raising one hand to draw the herbivores’ attention once more.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not forced to make you this offer. We tigers can continue to follow the old traditions, as happily as ever. It would serve as good training for my warriors to go hunting again, just as their forefathers did. In the end, I don’t care who ends up on my plate, but someone will.”

There was something final about his statement, and a tense silence fell over the hall as he took the last few steps back to his throne. Once there, the mighty tiger turned around again and settled elegantly onto his throne, crossed his legs, and leaned back smugly. His gaze slowly swept over the herbivores gathered at the table, who had begun discussing among themselves once more. Unmoved by this, one of his concubines nestled against him, and in a display of his own confidence, he kissed her passionately.

The herbivores who saw this murmured disparagingly, but the majority of his guests were too busy feuding with one another to pay attention to the tiger in the room. The Khan’s lover giggled and whispered something to him as their lips parted again, whereupon he nodded and watched as she withdrew once more.

When he had finally had enough and no longer wished to wait for an answer, the Great Khan addressed his guests once more:

“Look at yourselves, arguing in the face of your enemy about who has grazed on whose pastures and who is to blame for the bad weather, when you should all be in agreement about what is the only right thing for your future. You should be glad that we are willing to make concessions for you and offer you a deal that has more disadvantages for us than for you. Be glad that we have decided not to increase our numbers any further, even though it would actually make sense to avoid having to raise the tribute.”

By now, a certain irritation was clearly discernible in his voice. At his statement, silence fell over the assembly for a moment, but it was almost immediately interrupted by the same uncontrolled discussion.

The Great Khan shook his head and secretly wondered how this motley crew had been able to cause them such problems throughout all those years of war, but then he reconsidered. The Bull, Gordito Torro, the informal leader of the herbivores, had united the tribes behind him and led them into battle as a single force. Now that he was dead, that cohesion was missing, and each tribe was once again fighting only for itself.

He was on the verge of losing his patience and adjourning the assembly without a resolution when one of the tapirs finally rose to her feet. She stepped cautiously out of the assembly and approached his throne slowly. Though her fear was clearly visible, she held herself upright and looked the leader of the tigers in the eyes until, a few steps from his throne, she knelt reverently and stretched out her hands.

“Lord... Great Khan. We accept your offer. It will not be easy, but we acknowledge the generosity of this offer and will fulfill our part of the agreement.”

Her voice was firm and full of pride. The Great Khan silently observed the gesture for a moment before rising. He was quite a bit taller than the female kneeling before him, and it would have been easy to humiliate her now. Instead, he bent down, took her hand, and gently pulled her to her feet. Now that she stood before him, she barely reached his chest, and she kept her gaze fixed on the ground. Being so close to him instilled too much respect in her for her to look him in the eye. Meanwhile, the Khan took the opportunity to examine her more closely. She was a healthy female, a strong mother, and would make a level-headed leader for her tribe.

“What is your name?”

He finally asked in a calm, benevolent voice.

“Lima, Sire.”

She answered without hesitation, but kept her gaze fixed on the ground. The Khan nodded thoughtfully and gently lifted her chin so he could see her eyes.

“I will remember your name. May your tribe prosper.”

He said softly and let go of her. Then he turned to the rest of the assembly and assumed the posture of a ruler before addressing them:

“So be it.”

He exclaimed in a solemn voice.

“From this day forward, my warriors will no longer hunt, as long as the tribute is paid. May we all lead better lives.”

proclaimed the leader of the Tigers, raising both arms and calling out:

“For the greater good.”

…

The period immediately following the signing of the agreement was a time of transition. Both the tigers and the herbivores initially had difficulty adjusting to the new circumstances. Surprisingly, it was the herbivores in particular who struggled to adapt, leading to repeated hostility and attacks against the tigers. Over time, however, tensions gradually subsided, and peaceful coexistence became possible.

Today, 200 years after the predatory cats took power, life for all animals in the jungle had indeed improved significantly. The fear most herbivores had of falling victim to an attack by one of the numerous predators at any moment was a thing of the past. Without this invisible sword of Damocles hanging over their heads, most of them had been able to significantly increase their numbers. It had also become clear in the years since the agreement that, with the significant reduction in predators and without the need to hunt for food, the amount of food required was significantly lower than ever before. In the meantime, the herbivore population had exploded to such an extent that, under the herbivores’ self-governance, population control programs had been implemented to halt the uncontrolled proliferation of certain species and maintain a kind of balance.

Trade flourished among the individual tribes, and even with tribes outside the jungle. Unprecedented prosperity had taken hold in the jungle, ensuring that even the most vehement opponents of the agreement eventually fell silent. Even at night, the jungle was now safe something that had never been the case before. There had been a few incidents when other predators tried to sneak back in, but the tigers put a stop to that with brutal force.

But all in all, everyone was satisfied with the measures, and a largely carefree life in the community even alongside the carnivores was possible.

The Great Khan and his descendants had always adhered to the agreements, and the herbivores had also fulfilled their part of the bargain.

Even the tribute, which the tigers had demanded as an essential part of the agreement and which had to be provided by the herbivores every other week, had turned out over time to be a much lighter burden than initially feared.

Thus, shortly after the introduction of the tribute, it had become established that the families providing one of the tributes for the sacrifice could expect privileges. These ranged from better housing and access to better food options to priority permission to reproduce.

In the period that followed, a veritable competition arose among the individual tribes and communities over who would provide the best, strongest, and healthiest tribute for the carnivores. In some cases, outright competitions were held for the honor of representing one’s respective tribe or species as a tribute.

This represented a certain bonus for the tigers, one they hadn’t anticipated at all initially, but to which they had no objection. For them, it simply meant more food, delivered to them more or less voluntarily.

On the eve of every full moon and new moon, the “Path of All Flesh” as the tigers called the trail leading from the gathering place in the valley to their temple on the hill was illuminated by a hundred torches.

The proud warriors of the Tiger Clan lined the path and silently lit the way for the tributes as the priestesses led them along. The procession was treated with great respect, for the tributes offered themselves of their own free will for the greater good and peace between their species. No warrior, no matter how hungry, would lay a hand on any of the tributes, or even show the slightest sign of aggression toward the herbivores. The rules were clearly laid out in the agreement, and the tigers adhered to them meticulously.

The atmosphere along the path was always calm, and there was a certain sense of awe in walking through a corridor of over a hundred tigers before reaching the temple, where the priestesses welcomed them. Whenever the last tribute had entered the path, the warriors followed the procession to the temple, thereby closing the path. It was an unwritten law that, once the warriors followed the herbivores, the window of opportunity was closed to latecomers. In the years following the agreement, there had been only one instance in which a species was unable or unwilling to provide a tribute. The Tigers’ response to this breach of contract came swiftly and with great vehemence. The ensuing massacre was like a nightmare from which there was no waking. The assembly of herbivores a sort of parliament that guided the fortunes of their tribes under the aegis of the tigers had spoken of an example that would never again be necessary. Since then, all tributes had always been present even before the tigers had cleared the path.

That evening, too, as the sun disappeared below the horizon, the tributes were already gathered when the tigers’ torches gradually illuminated the narrow path leading down from the temple, signaling the path’s opening. They wore simple white robes and were adorned with ceremonial sashes. Traditionally, the Tigers did not speak a word during the entire procession, serving instead as a silent reminder to the herbivores, while at the same time symbolizing the protection they provided for the community. The mood among the tributes was tense but calm. They all knew what they had gotten themselves into, and once the last warrior had taken his place at the edge of the path, they turned toward the trail and waited for the priestesses to arrive. The Tiger Priestesses, who would lead the tributes to the temple, wore long black hooded cloaks that covered their bodies almost entirely, and when they reached the tributes, the tallest among them stopped in front of the path, while her two companions flanked her.

“Greetings to you who walk the Path of All Flesh of your own free will.”

The priestess began with a slight, respectful bow, which the other two priestesses followed. At a nod, her companions began distributing the hooded cloaks they had brought to the herbivores. The herbivores removed their previous clothing they would no longer need it and wrapped themselves in the black cloaks provided.

It was a ritual that had become established over the years and signified a final farewell for the herbivores. Theoretically, a change of heart was still possible, but everyone present knew the grave consequences that this would entail.

Once all the herbivores had donned their cloaks and pulled the hoods over their heads, the priestess stepped forward and nodded slightly.

“You deserve honor and respect, for your sacrifice allows us to uphold the pact. Now follow me into the temple, and we will ensure that your families can continue to live in peace.”

Reverence and empathy resonated in the priestess’s voice as she solemnly spoke the traditional words and turned toward the path with an inviting gesture. The tributes, now shrouded in black hooded cloaks, watched the priestess as she walked between her attendants, who had taken their places on both sides of the path. She folded her hands in front of her body and strode slowly but with sweeping steps through the cordon of her fellow tigers. Every tiger she passed paid her respect with a silent nod as they waited for the tributes to follow her.

They hesitated for a moment, fear and despair clearly visible on their faces, but finally a young tapir gathered her courage and followed the priestess onto the path. She kept her head bowed, unable to look into the eyes of the tigers lining the way.

Now that the ice seemed to have been broken, the other tributes followed the priestess as well. All the animals walking the path remained silent, as tradition dictated. And once the last tribute had stepped onto the path, the two priestesses followed him, and the torchbearers followed them. The reverent silence, broken only by the crackling of the torches and the crunch of leaves on the ground, felt oppressive; even the tigers accompanying the procession sensed the burden the tributes carried on their shoulders. As they followed the herbivores, it seemed as though the light were retreating from the jungle back toward the temple. Behind the darkly clad tributes, the glow of the torches concentrated, while the path behind them was swallowed up again by the darkness of the night.

The path itself was not long and led almost straight up the hill from the small clearing where the tributes had gathered to the temple, but the dense vegetation prevented the temple from being seen from the clearing. Only when the tributes had already covered about half the distance did the Temple of the Tigers come into view. In the darkness of the night, it loomed from the jungle like a gigantic, dark monument to death, stretching against the dark blue of the sky. On the nights when the tributes came to the temple, its walls were not illuminated by fires, as was usually the case.

For the tigers, it was a familiar sight to see the dark pyramid and its outer structures. It was their home, their safe haven. For the herbivores, however, it was the first and only time they saw the monumental structure from the outside, for even though the agreement stipulated that the tigers would no longer hunt, there was an unspoken law that no herbivore would ever dare to venture near the temple. Death was at home in the temple, and it would tolerate no intruders in its realm.

The sight stoked fear in the hearts of the tributes, and some slowed noticeably, yet neither the priestesses following the procession nor the tigers coming behind them urged the tributes to keep moving. As long as they did not stray from the path, there was no reason to intervene; they would continue on it was in their nature to follow the other tributes.

When the procession finally arrived at the outer gate of the temple, it was greeted by another group of priestesses. These tigresses wore robes similar to those of the torchbearers and were likewise adorned with colorful ribbons that had been wrapped in elaborate patterns around their arms and legs. The leading priestess bowed to her counterpart, and her gesture was returned.

“I bring the tribute so that the pact may be honored.”

Greeted the priestess in black robes in a soft but solemn tone.

“We will honor the pact of our ancestors.”

Replied her counterpart, clad in white, and made a welcoming gesture, clearing the way into the temple.

While the tributes hesitantly followed the priestesses into the temple, the torchbearers went one by one to a large, water-filled trough and extinguished their torches in it. This was, like so much else that night, part of the ritual and symbolized the light of every single life that would be extinguished that night. And so, with every torch that hissed and went out, the path of all flesh slowly but surely sank back into the blackness of the night.

Once all the torches had gone out, the warriors retreated to their barracks, while the tributes were led through the temple’s colonnades to one of the large inner courtyards. The corridors were lit by small oil lamps that cast a gentler light than the torches along the path. Still, not a word was spoken, and the priestesses slowly led them to the waiting area, where benches had already been set up the day before so that the tributes would at least not have to wait for their sacrifice while standing.

The courtyard itself was a large, open area where beds of herbs and flowers thrived along the walls, and whose well-manicured lawn created a welcoming atmosphere. In the center of the square, a small platform had been erected, where two more priestesses were already waiting for the tributes. On the back wall of the courtyard, which belonged to the actual temple the pyramid was a large, red-painted portal whose doors were adorned with a stylized tiger skull and which was guarded by two enormous tigers.

The priestesses on the platform waited until all the tributes had entered the courtyard and their black-clad fellow kin had left the courtyard through the large red portal before addressing the assembled herbivores.

“Welcome, esteemed tributes.”

The younger of the two priestesses greeted the assembled herbivores, who were all standing together in front of the platform.

“Please, we know how heavy this burden is for all of you, and we will do our utmost to make it as light as possible for you. Please take your seats while we explain the course of the ritual.”

Even though she spoke softly, her words reached the ears of everyone present as she gestured toward the individual benches. Following her invitation, the tributes hesitantly made their way to the benches, where they finally took their seats and turned their attention back to the priestess, whose gentle smile seemed benevolent and empathetic.

“Thank you very much. Let me express once again how grateful we are for the sacrifice you are all willing to make. We will, as is our custom, meet your courage with respect and reverence. However, before we begin the actual ritual, you will all speak with our High Priestess, for only those who have truly chosen the path of all flesh of their own free will may offer the final sacrifice and renew the covenant between us carnivores and herbivores. Afterward, one of our priestesses will prepare you for the ritual. Have no fear; none of this will be painful. No one is to suffer here. The ritual itself will be performed completely painlessly and quickly in the end.”

The young priestess explained in a calm but solemn tone, while the other priestess nodded slightly. As her words faded away, the warriors opened the doors of the rear portal. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the older priestess stepped forward and raised her voice. There was a calm strength in her voice that reminded one of a mother encouraging her child:

“The High Priestess will now receive you. Please, enter the temple one by one. Take courage.”

The tributes hesitated; no one wanted to be the first to walk through the portal to certain death.

None of the herbivores present moved.

This was nothing unusual; the tigers were familiar with this behavior from the tributes. After all, everyone gathered here knew what awaited them behind that door. They would not pressure them that was against the agreement and, as a rule, one of the tributes would eventually steel themselves and walk toward the portal.

This time was no different; eventually, one of the tributes rose from his seat and took a deep breath. He stood up to his full height, turned toward the portal, and took the first step. A soft murmur rippled through the assembled tributes as they witnessed the courage of this first herbivore.

The priestesses bowed respectfully to the tribute and watched as he approached the portal slowly and with hesitant steps. The warriors, too, bowed their heads reverently as the veiled figure approached them, but just before she stepped through the portal, she paused once more and turned to face those waiting. For a moment, her face was visible.

It was a young female tapir whose expression reflected both sorrow and defiance.

Then she turned back toward the portal and stepped through it. As she disappeared into the room beyond the portal, the warriors closed the large double doors again, locking her inside.

The female tapir found herself in a short corridor leading to a large room. She was afraid, uncertain, and would have preferred to go back through the portal, but now that it was locked, that path was closed to her. She wrapped her arms around her upper body and walked slowly down the corridor. It was quiet, almost silent in the corridor, and it smelled of herbs and incense. With every step she took, the scent grew stronger and soft sounds joined in. Sounds that reminded her of her mother’s kitchen. She just wasn’t sure if this was a good thing.

When she reached the end of the corridor, she entered a large room lit by a multitude of small lamps, where priestesses in the many small alcoves were busy processing herbs, mushrooms, and other plants. They did this in complete silence, likely so as not to frighten her further, but they were all smiling and seemed content. The atmosphere in this chamber seemed calm, even relaxed. She looked around cautiously and spotted another door at the far end of the room that didn’t appear to be guarded, but she would have to pass the large, stone throne to reach it.

“Welcome, child.”

The greeting snapped her out of her thoughts, and she looked up at the throne from which the voice had come. It had sounded old, yet full of love and affection, and the tigress who had spoken the words and sat upon the throne appeared ancient. Her fur was grayed, looking dull and straw-like; her ears were frayed, and her eyes were completely blind. She smiled a toothless smile and beckoned her closer with hands far too delicate for her species. She seemed older than the throne on which she sat, and that throne had been carved from a single block of granite and was already so old that the countless individuals who had sat upon it had worn the corners and edges of the hard stone smooth. Whoever had once carved the throne from the stone had taken great care with the inscriptions, but after all this time, they were legible in only a few places.

“Come, child. Come here, I won’t bite.”

the old tigress, who was likely the High Priestess, urged, and there was a gentleness and warmth in her voice that she would not have expected from a carnivore. It was almost as if the tigress were speaking to a grandchild, reaching out her hands to her. The young tapir gathered her courage and slowly approached. The sound of her bare feet on the cold stone floor was the only thing she could hear at that moment, as she hesitantly reached out her own hand toward the high priestess’s.

When they touched, the old tigress gently took her hand; it was so delicate, not much larger than the tapir’s own. It felt a little strange as the old woman gently felt her hand, but there was no aggression in the gesture, only honest curiosity, and when she was done, the High Priestess smiled at her again.

“Don’t be afraid, my child. Let me look at you for a moment.”

The High Priestess spoke these words calmly and empathetically as well, while pointing to a cushion at her feet. The tapirin nodded gently and knelt on the cushion that had been laid out for her before carefully pulling back her hood. When her counterpart heard this, she slowly raised her hands and touched the young herbivore’s face almost tenderly.

“Oh... I see you are still very young. What is your name, child?”

She asked, as her hands continued to examine her face.

“They call me Shirya, Lima’s daughter, venerable High Priestess.”

Replied the tapir, her voice no more than a whisper. Upon hearing the name, a shudder ran through the High Priestess, and she paused briefly before continuing to “examine” Shirya’s face, letting her hands glide slowly lower.

“Your name sounds familiar. Tell me, my child, did you come here of your own free will?”

It almost seemed to her as if the old priestess could see into her soul with her blind eyes, and what she saw made the priestess thoughtful. Shirya swallowed, but gathered her courage and answered truthfully.

“Yes. I came of my own free will to fulfill the ancient agreement and do my part.”

Her voice sounded firm, but the fear of what was inevitable was clearly audible. The High Priestess listened to her in silence and then nodded gently as her hand moved over the herbivore’s chest.

“Well spoken, my child, but tell me, have you already borne any offspring?”

This question caught Shirya completely off guard, and she blushed slightly.

“N… No, venerable High Priestess.”

She stammered somewhat uncertainly and watched as the High Priestess’s hand glided over her flat stomach and lingered there for a moment.

“What a pity. You would have made a good mother. Very fertile.”

She finally remarked in a calm yet melancholic voice before removing her hands from Shirya’s body. Meanwhile, a blush of shame finally rose to the young herbivore’s cheeks as she waited for the priestess’s next reaction; the priestess blinked, and it seemed as though she were thinking about something, but then her warm, toothless smile returned to her lips and she nodded gently. Once more, her delicate hand found the cheek of the young tapir, whose head leaned against it almost instinctively.

“Very well, stand up, child.”

The High Priestess commanded, finally removing her hand from the tribute’s face so she could rise.

“You will be a worthy tribute for the greater good of the community. You have my blessing.”

She continued, and at a flick of her finger, another tigress stepped beside the High Priestess’s throne; but unlike the old feline, this one was young, athletic, and bursting with energy, though she still wore the same warm smile.

“This is Rayas; she will lead you to the ritual chambers and help you prepare for your sacrifice. Go with her and do not be afraid. Everything will be all right.”

The High Priestess explained, and Rayas bowed beside her. Shirya nodded silently and looked at the younger tigress, while a knot slowly formed in the pit of her stomach. She was completely overwhelmed, and now that the High Priestess had given her blessing, there was essentially no turning back. Her counterpart seemed to notice her hesitation and uncertainty, for she blinked very slowly, and her eyes reflected a deep understanding and a warmth that Shirya hadn’t expected. When she finally spoke, her voice was so much softer and gentler than Shirya would have expected from a predator over two meters tall.

“Follow me, Shirya, daughter of Lima; I will take you to the baths. There we will cleanse you, and there you can relax.”

Raya explained calmly, and with an elegant gesture she pointed to the door at the far end of the room, which had been opened in the meantime. Shirya followed the priestess’s gesture and looked toward the door leading deeper into the temple. It took a moment, but then she nodded hesitantly and followed the tigress out of the room.

The corridor she was led into was noticeably cooler, and fewer lamps had been set up, but the light was still sufficient for her to find her way as she crept along behind the much larger priestess. The tigress walked elegantly through the corridor, her hips swaying with each sweeping stride, her tail swinging back and forth in a relaxed manner.

The corridor wasn’t very long and led into a small chamber from which several doors branched off. A tall warrior stood before each door, all of them clad only in a loincloth of beige fabric, their arms and legs artfully wrapped in leather straps. Their muscular bodies were adorned with scars that looked too regular to have come from battle at least, that was Shirya’s first thought when she saw the guards.

When Rayas entered the room, Shirya stayed behind, unsure of what would happen next. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself. It was one thing to bare herself before a blind tigress, but it was something entirely different to reveal herself before a full-grown male tiger. Rayas, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy presenting her rather voluptuous figure to the Khan’s warriors, though they didn’t really react. She approached one of them and bowed slightly, whereupon he stepped aside and opened the door. All of this happened without a single word being spoken, so deeply were the rituals rooted in tiger society.

Raya stepped beside the door and made an inviting gesture, meant to encourage her to enter the room, but Shirya hesitated. Whatever lay behind that door was shrouded in such semi-darkness that it was impossible for her to make out anything. Her instincts, which had protected her species from danger for countless generations, screamed in her head and prevented her from moving. Only when Rayas held out her hand and smiled warmly at her was she able to tear herself away and cautiously approach the two of them. As she took Rayas’s hand and let herself be gently led in front of the priestess, the warrior bowed before her.

“Thank you for your sacrifice.”

Whispered the huge tiger, whose voice more closely matched what Shirya imagined a tiger’s to be, but she didn’t dare answer him, merely nodding silently. She felt Rayas gently place her large hands on her shoulders and allowed herself to be guided toward the door with almost no resistance, though she finally hesitated to step over the threshold into the darker room. Only when Rayas applied almost imperceptible pressure did she lift her foot and step through the door. Her breath came in shallow, trembling gasps, and her body quivered slightly under the strong hands of the tigress behind her, but she finally managed to overcome her fear and enter the room. The priestess remained right behind her, maintaining physical contact and trying to give her the support she so desperately needed.

They hadn’t quite entered the room yet when Shirya heard the door close behind them. As the bolt was drawn, the sound was so final that the young herbivore first flinched and then froze completely. She gasped for air and looked over her shoulder, but all she could see in the dim light of the passageway were the glowing pupils of the predator standing right behind her. She began to tremble uncontrollably, and tears welled up in her eyes, while Raya nodded knowingly.

“Don’t be afraid, Shirya. Nothing will happen to you here.”

She whispered, gently squeezing her shoulders, but Shirya didn’t want to believe her and slowly shook her head.

“Yes, yes, it will. I… I’m going to die here.”

The tribute replied, swallowing, the panic clearly visible in her eyes. Rayas couldn’t disagree; the tributes came to their temple every other week to sacrifice their lives for the community, and the young tapir would be no exception. The priestess closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before opening them again. When she looked back at the trembling young woman before her, there was an incredible calm in her eyes. It was as if Shirya could see deep into the tigeress’s soul behind her, and she found no anger or hatred there, only understanding and patience for a young animal facing a hopeless situation and on the verge of a complete breakdown.

Rayas gently pulled her closer to her own body and held her there for a moment that felt like an eternity.

“Yes, Shirya, Lima’s daughter, it is true, you will die in this temple, for the good of the community, but not now, and not here.”

She whispered, letting the words sink in for a moment before continuing.

“Come, let’s go to the bath; I will help you relax a little.”

With these words, the priestess gently guided her further into the room.

The room itself was rather small, and only a few lamps had been placed here and there, providing dim lighting. A small pool set into the floor dominated the room; in the semi-darkness, its water seemed almost to glow. The air was heavy with the sweet, heady scent of incense smoldering somewhere in the shadows. On her side of the pool, she found a small stone bench with a cushion and a small basket, while on the other side stood a sort of stone platform or table, but it was too dark to make out any more from where she stood. She was gently guided to the bench.

“Sit down here. I will help you cleanse yourself and prepare for the rituals.”

Whispered the priestess, and even as she sat down, Shirya began to sob. She hadn’t even settled properly when all her defenses broke down and her body was shaken by violent sobs. This was nothing unusual, and Rayas was well acquainted with this reaction. When the tributes finally reached the point where they irrevocably realized what they had agreed to and that there was no way out of this situation, most of them broke down. The young tapir on the bench was not the first and would certainly not be the last to have to go through this. Full of compassion, the tigress looked down at her, and it nearly broke her heart.

She sighed softly and sat down next to the weeping girl, gently placing her strong arm around her slender shoulders. Shirya stiffened briefly and held her breath, but when Rayas merely stroked her shoulder and pulled her tenderly close, she finally let go and leaned against the larger woman beside her. The priestess resisted the urge to raise her other hand to the herbivore’s cheek and wipe away her tears; instead, she whispered:

“It’s all right. Let it out. Let it all out.”

Her calm, gentle voice was just loud enough to reach Shirya’s ear and drown out her own sobs, but it seemed to help, for she reached for Raya’s other hand and clung to it tightly as she continued to weep bitterly. Meanwhile, the tigress pulled her closer and held her steady.

“Sssshh shhh shhh… that’s good… I understand your fear, and it’s perfectly normal.”

Her little protégée was unable to speak, managing only to utter choppy guttural sounds, but she didn’t mind; she simply rested her head against hers. The priestess was patient, for they had promised the herbivores that the tributes who came down the path of their own free will would be treated with due respect. None of them would be forced in any way. Besides, who wouldn’t be afraid knowing they were certain to die that day? Even in a hopeless battle, there was at least a chance of surviving it, but in this “battle”, not even that chance existed.

The tributes would die; there was no way around it.

Raya felt deep compassion for the young herbivore lying in her arms, who was still crying violently. Gently, she stroked her shoulder and pressed her lips to Shira’s crown. To walk the path of all flesh was not what fate had intended for young animals; they were meant to live, gain experience, reproduce, and be happy. Only when they eventually grew old and weak was it intended that the animals would take the path and sacrifice themselves for the community, so that the next generations could continue to live in peace. That was how nature had intended it, and that had also been the idea behind the agreement when their ancestors had made it over two hundred years ago.

Out of fear and shame, however, the elders and powerful among the herbivores had quickly twisted this agreement and its meaning to their own advantage, and now, for years, the strongest and healthiest among them had been walking the Path. This travesty of the natural order was a disgrace, but she saw little she could do about it.

They sat side by side for a moment longer before Rayas hugged the young herbivore next to her once more. She felt Shirya tense slightly, held the embrace for a moment longer, and then slowly let her go. As she removed her arm from Shirya’s shoulder, Shirya clung to her hand, reluctant to end the contact, which brought a gentle smile to the tigress’s lips.

“Shh… it’s okay… let me take a look at you.”

Whispered the priestess, placing her free hand on the weeping tapir’s cheek. She gently lifted her head until she could look into her ward’s swollen eyes. Her lips trembled, no matter how hard she tried to stop it, and she had to sniffle with every other quivering breath, but even that couldn’t wipe the smile from the priestess’s face. Tenderly, Rayas wiped the tears from Shirya’s cheeks and stroked her head.

“Shhh… it’s all right… shhh… calm down, Shirya.”

It was almost as if a mother were speaking to her child; no matter how ridiculous it sounded, no matter how trivial the gesture might be, it helped calm the young tapir. Once more, Rayas wiped the tears from her cheeks and then looked deep into her eyes.

“You are a strong young woman; now show me your strength, show me that YOU deserve respect, not your elders, who were too cowardly to walk the path themselves.”

The tigress demanded urgently. For a moment, it seemed as though Shirya’s eyes were filling with tears again, but then she saw the fire in them. It was a small, flickering, faint flame, but it was there; it blazed bravely in that sea of tears and did not go out. This time, it was Shirya herself who wiped away her tears as she took a sighing breath and sniffed. When Rayas saw this, her smile grew more determined, and she nodded slightly as her counterpart slowly calmed down again.

“That’s good.”

Whispered the priestess, and in a moment of unbridled emotion, pressed her forehead against Shirya’s.

“I want you to attend the ceremony with your head held high. You will show them all. You will show them what it means to be a descendant of Lima, the woman who made this agreement and with it, two centuries of peace possible in the first place.”

The tigress implored her, gently rubbing her forehead against Shirya’s. Shirya let the words sink in, and when Rayas pulled her head back, they looked into each other’s eyes again. The young tapir’s eyes were still full of fear and sadness, but she had stopped trembling, and after another moment, she finally swallowed and nodded slightly. Rayas nodded as well and stroked her cheeks once more.

“Brave girl!”

She praised her, slowly sliding her hands away from Shirya’s cheeks before leaning back slightly and studying her briefly.

“And now let me take a good look at you. Stand up and show yourself.”

The request came with a playful undertone and was accompanied by a smile that brooked no argument. It took a moment before the herbivore had gathered enough courage to stand up and reveal herself to the priestess, but eventually she did. Standing before the old, blind high priestess and being “examined” had been something entirely different from standing before Raya now. She felt embarrassed, even in this small, dark room and alone with the priestess who had comforted her just moments ago. She could literally feel her sharp gaze on her skin as it wandered down her body, stopping at nothing.

“Oh, it’s such a shame.”

Rayas finally scolded, as her eyes found their way back to Shirya’s face.

“Look at yourself, you’re perfect. Here stands a young woman who is perfect in every way…”

She continued, rising from the bench herself, and when she stood before her, she was so much taller than her protégée. Carefully, she raised her hands to the cord that held together the hooded cloak Shirya was still wearing.

“You can take that off now; you won’t need it anymore.”

She didn’t untie the knot, however, but waited until her counterpart raised her hands to the simple loop. Shirya held the knot tightly, as if it were the only thing protecting her from the predator standing before her. Rayas smiled gently and nodded.

The cloak, like so much else surrounding the rituals, was symbolic in nature; it wouldn’t be a real problem to lead the animals into the temple in their normal everyday clothes, but the Tigers were a superstitious clan, and rituals defined a large part of their daily lives. Just as the torches they extinguished before the temple symbolized the life they were extinguishing that night, so the cloaks symbolized the connection to death itself that the tributes entered into as they walked the “Path of All Flesh.” Now that the tributes were in the temple, where death was at home, they no longer needed that connection.

Shirya swallowed and hesitantly undid the knot, causing the cloak to fall from her shoulders. The soft rustle of the fabric was almost deafening in the silence of the small room.

Now that she stood completely naked before Rayas, her youth became even more apparent; she still wore the dark brown fur patterned with white that was typical of the young of her clan. It was not uncommon for some tapirs to retain this camouflage longer, but as they reached adulthood, the hair fell out, leaving behind slate-colored, coarse skin that was excellent for making leather. And even though the priestess before her wore little more than a loincloth and a few colorful decorative ribbons, her thick fur at least covered most of her sexual characteristics. Shirya, on the other hand, tried to cover her modesty as best she could with her hands.

It was strange; as long as she had been wearing the cloak, it hadn’t been so bad that the tigress had seen her breasts and her private parts, but now it felt somehow wrong though that didn’t seem to bother the tigress in the least; her smile merely widened a little, becoming almost playful.

In fact, Raya was quite used to this reaction; it was to be expected that the tributes would be ashamed of their bodies, something practically unknown to tigers. They moved about the temple more or less naked most of the time; their thick fur provided enough protection for most of what they encountered in daily life, and clothing was usually more of a hindrance than a help in the tropical temperatures. They usually wore the ceremonial robes only when necessary. She found Shirya’s modesty rather cute, or unnecessary; the young tapir had a beautiful figure, everything was in the right place, there was nothing she needed to be ashamed of.

She raised her hand to the younger one’s cheek and stroked it gently before walking past her to the small pool in the center of the room. With infinitely elegant steps, she stepped into the water, stopped there, and held out a clawed hand toward her.

“Come, let me wash you for the rituals. The water is warm.”

She beckoned, and the sparkle in her eyes held so much more, but none of it was evil or even deceitful; quite the opposite, she seemed almost playful as she stood there in the waist-deep water. When her protégé didn’t move at first, she lowered her head slightly and silently formed the words “Come on” with her lips, her tail churning the water behind her.

Finally, Shirya pulled herself together and took hesitant steps to the edge of the pool, where she gratefully took the priestess’s hand and descended the three steps into the water. It was actually pleasantly warm and smelled of various flowers. The young herbivore couldn’t help but let out a short giggle as the water reached her navel. She let Raya lead her to a stone in the middle of the pool, which lay just below the water’s surface.

“Sit down here; you don’t need to do anything else.”

She whispered, pointing to the stone stool, whereupon Shirya tried to climb onto the stone, which because she was so small wasn’t all that easy. Eventually, however, she managed to sit down on the smooth stone, while Rayas positioned herself behind her. She placed her large paws on Shirya’s shoulders and whispered:

“That’s good, relax. There’s nothing here to be afraid of. There’s just the two of us here…”

Raya’s voice was like warm, soothing rain as she reached for a small bowl and began to slowly and gently pour water over Shirya’s body. First over her shoulders, letting the water run slowly down her back. It felt incredibly relaxing as the water ran down her, washing away tension, stress, and fear. The only sounds to be heard now were the steady lapping as Raya refilled the bowl with water and the subsequent splashing as it ran down her and back into the pool. From time to time, the priestess shifted her position and let the water flow over a different part of her body. Meanwhile, Shirya closed her eyes and surrendered herself completely to the procedure, which was intended to cleanse not only her body but above all her soul not just of dirt, but also of the stress and fear inherent in all tributes and it worked amazingly well. Only when the young tapir’s short fur was completely soaked and the priestess was satisfied with the result did she begin to gently brush the excess water from her fur. She proceeded carefully, almost tenderly, and it felt almost sensual. Even as her hands glided over her breasts, Shirya let her do so without hesitation, even enjoying the touch.

Finally, Raya’s hands found their way to Shirya’s neck, and when she felt the feline’s sharp claws brush against her sensitive skin, a shiver ran down her spine. Very gently, the priestess took her head in her large hands and tilted it back.

“Now only your head remains. Relax and close your eyes; nothing will happen to you here.”

Rayas whispered softly, keeping one hand on her cheek while she filled the bowl with water again with the other. Shirya did as she was told and tried to relax. Rayas knew what she was doing and let the water flow slowly and evenly over her protégé’s head. She could see more and more of the tension leaving the young herbivore. Again, she waited until the younger one’s short, downy fur was completely soaked and even the last traces of her tears had been washed away before she very carefully brushed the excess water from her fur and face. Shirya almost regretted it when she felt Rayas lift her head upright again and brush the last remnants of water from her fur.

“Your body and soul are now pure.”

Despite her whisper, her voice was so warm and full of affection as she slowly waded past Shirya to the back of the room. Shirya watched her and admired how the tigress stepped out of the basin just as elegantly as she had stepped in. Her wet fur shimmered in the dim light of the chamber and clung to her muscular legs, accentuating her curves even more. Swaying her hips, she walked over to the stone table, on which another cushion lay. As she circled the stone block, which resembled an altar, she ran her hand over the granite and looked down over her shoulder at Shirya, who was still sitting on her stone in the pool. When she finally stopped behind the stone, she beckoned the young herbivore toward her with a gesture.

“Come to me, Shirya, daughter of Lima, let me now prepare your body and soul for the rituals so that you may pass over with dignity and without suffering.”

The girl stared at the priestess with wide eyes. For a moment, she had seen only the glowing pupils and flashing teeth of the tigress in the semi-darkness behind the table, and fear welled up inside her. She shook her head slightly and rubbed her arms.

Rayas waited a moment before leaning forward across the table, her warm, empathetic smile still on her lips.

“Don’t be afraid; nothing bad will happen to you here, and I will be with you until the very end.”

She tried to keep all sharpness and urgency out of her voice, even though it had taken them a long time already. It seemed to help, for Shirya slowly slid down from her stone in the pool and approached the priestess. Carefully, she put one foot in front of the other and finally stepped out of the small basin, but stopped just short of the last few steps.

She knew that to turn back and flee, it was already far too late; there was no turning back now. Her last chance to do so would have been to tell the High Priestess that she had not come down the path of her own free will. Now she was trapped by her decision and had to live with the resulting consequences.

She looked over at Rayas and swallowed; her fear threatened to overwhelm her again, and tears filled her eyes. The priestess behind the table looked at her sympathetically and nodded gently before offering her a firm hand. Hesitantly, Shirya raised her own hand, took the tigress’s, and let herself be guided carefully toward the table. When she finally stood before the table, Rayas smiled again.

“I’m so proud of you…”

She whispered, helping her protégé first sit down on the table and then lie down, gently cradling her head on the pillow that smelled of dried flowers and herbs.

The stone wasn’t nearly as cold as Shirya had feared, and it was surprisingly comfortable. Over the centuries, so many tributes had lain on this stone that even the granite bore traces of them, and a certain contour had been worn into the surface. And so she now lay completely defenseless on the altar, in the small, dimly lit chamber, looking up at Rayas, who towered over her. Somehow, Shirya had the feeling this would also be the last thing she would ever see.

“That’s good, relax.”

With those words, she turned around and took something from a cabinet hidden in the semi-darkness behind the table. When she turned back to the young herbivore, she was holding a vessel.

“I will now anoint you with the blessed oils and draw the sacred runes on your fur, so that you may feel no pain later and face your ancestors with dignity.”

She explained in a gentle voice, placing the clay vessel on the table next to Shirya. After Shirya gave a brief nod, Rayas dipped her hands into the vessel and scooped out a handful of the oil. Then she held her hands over the younger girl’s chest and let the warm, intoxicatingly fragrant oil drip onto her body. As the first drops fell onto her short fur, their scent rose to her nose.

She knew this scent well; it was an intoxicant derived from the resin of a native plant and was particularly popular among the younger ones. In small doses, it induced a long-lasting, mild state of intoxication, but if the dose was increased, it could be used as a potent painkiller and relaxant. She realized how the tigers ensured that the tributes passed into the afterlife free of pain and worry. Under normal circumstances, she would strictly reject the use of this drug, but in her current situation, she could only approve of its use.

As the priestess began to anoint her body, Shirya could already feel the first effects of the drug. Very slowly, she drifted into a light, steady, pleasant state of intoxication that took away her worries and soothed her fears. The more she inhaled it, the more she noticed a certain indifference, and the more she willingly surrendered herself to Raya’s ministrations. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, knowing full well that this would only intensify the high, and soon she felt her muscles relax; for the first time since she had decided to volunteer as a tribute for her tribe, she was truly at ease. She tried desperately to remember why she had volunteered as a tribute in the first place, but her mind was already so clouded that it seemed impossible to recall that memory.

“Mmmmmmmh …”

She finally murmured, savoring the attention of the tigress, who was taking great care to massage the oil thoroughly into her skin. Only when her hands penetrated Shiry’s intimate area did something like resistance well up inside her again, but before she could voice her displeasure, it had already vanished into the ever-present fog of intoxication, and so she allowed Raya to spread her legs and examine her pubic area.

It was a strangely pleasant sensation when the feline touched her there; it was unlike anything she had ever experienced before, and just as she was about to surrender herself completely to it, Rayas suddenly stopped and withdrew her hands. She was downright disappointed; it would have been lovely to revel in that feeling for just a little while longer. She was just about to ask why the priestess had stopped when the latter came into view.

For the first time since she had met the tigress, no gentle smile graced her lips; on the contrary, the expression on the priestess’s face was serious. She didn’t seem angry, but she was definitely not happy, and when she raised her voice, her words reached the young herbivore’s ears as if through a thick fog.

“Child, speak are you still a virgin?”

Rayas asked, a certain sharpness in her tone, but Shirya didn’t seem to understand; she just grinned, so Rayas repeated the question more clearly.

“Shirya… child, look at me… are you still a virgin?”

The more forceful question seemed to get through to her, for her grin vanished for the blink of an eye before she finally nodded with a grin.

“Joder!”

Slipped out of Rayas’s mouth before she could stop it.

Shirya watched the predator and didn't understand what the problem was. Yes, she was still a virgin; she just hadn't found the right tapir for it yet, but that didn't really matter now, because after all, she would be dead tomorrow. Getting upset now over this missed opportunity was a waste of effort, but the priestess seemed to feel genuinely uncomfortable about it.

She finally called out something in a dialect she didn’t understand, whereupon another tiger hurried into the room. Without hesitation, he came to the table and began chatting animatedly with Rayas, while Shirya remained lying on the stone, her eyes darting back and forth between the two. It was kind of amusing, even though she didn’t understand a word the two tigers were saying, so she just grinned. Then she noticed something this tiger was one of those great warriors, and he seemed just as excited as the priestess, but from where she was lying, she could see beneath his skimpy loincloth. Her grin widened, because the big, powerful warrior had a little warrior just as big and powerful, and because he was arguing so animatedly with Raya, his little warrior was dancing and hopping wildly about.

A thought took shape in Shirya’s dazed mind: If it was such a big problem that she had never slept with another, then …

Slowly, she raised her hand toward the loincloth.

“... Come here, little man, let me give you a kiss...”

She murmured, beaming with joy, and licked her lips, but before she could grab the little warrior, the tiger turned and vanished back to where he had come from. Shirya watched him go, keeping her hand outstretched in that direction; she didn’t notice the amused look on Raya’s face, who saw the disappointment on her face. When it became clear that the warrior wasn’t coming back, she slowly turned her head back toward Raya, who was still standing next to the table, looking down at her with a half-serious, half-amused smile. She blinked, but she was so high that she didn’t really understand what the priestess was saying, though it probably had something to do with the fact that the Great Khan had refused to ever accept a tribute who hadn’t experienced all the pleasures of life. Shirya furrowed her brow and simply nodded.

It was indeed rare that they had to receive virgin tributes. As a rule, the animals that came down the path as tributes were old enough and had already gained some experience. Often enough, those who sacrificed themselves for the community were celebrated like the heroes of the past, and even when the tributes were younger, it was not uncommon for them to have plenty of opportunities to pass on their genetic heritage to future generations.

Nevertheless, it did happen that a tribute entered the temple whose virginity was still intact, and in the vast majority of cases, this was no problem at all, for there was always a priest or priestess who dealt with this obstacle quickly and without complication. In Shirya’s case, however, things were different, for the Great Khan had decreed that descendants of Lima’s bloodline were to be treated with special care. It was not for nothing that it had been Lima who had made the agreement possible in the first place, and since Shirya descended from this bloodline and was the first from this family to enter the temple as a virgin, they now faced a problem. Neither Rayas nor the guard had known which of them could meet the Great Khan’s demand. That was why Rayas had sent the warrior to fetch the High Priestess so she could pass judgment.

It would take a while for the warrior to return with the High Priestess, especially since the old tigress would still be in the middle of assessing the tributes, even if the others were likely making significantly faster progress than Rayas and her protégé. They would continue with parts of the preparations, at least as far as they could, so as not to lose any more time.

Rayas took the vessel containing the blessed oil and placed it back on the small cabinet behind the table; she would proceed without the drug-laced lubricant for now, for she had a hunch that Shirya would need to be a little more in her right mind for what was to come than she currently was. The young herbivore seemed to pay no further attention to what was happening at the moment, but simply smiled blissfully to herself. On the one hand, the priestess was quite glad that her protégée didn’t seem to be worried at the moment; on the other hand, she didn’t want to leave Shirya completely in the dark about the circumstances of this delay. For now, however, the young woman was allowed to revel in her ignorance on the table; there was still a little time before the High Priestess would arrive and Raya would have to come clean with her, and perhaps the effects of the drugs would have worn off somewhat by then.

“Please turn around; I’d like to see your back.”

She asked with an amused smile and waited until her tribute slowly and awkwardly turned over on the table. Twice she was on the verge of intervening, fearing the tapir would roll off the table, but somehow she managed to turn onto her stomach in the end. When she saw her charge lying there on her stomach, her slender silhouette, her mouth began to water, but she managed to suppress the ancient instincts urging her to pounce on and kill the prey before her. Instead, she began gently massaging Shirya’s completely tense back muscles.

The young tapir had surprisingly well-developed muscles for such a petite figure, and Raya had to be careful not to grip too tightly; after all, she wanted her charge to relax and not tense up even more.

For a while, all that could be heard in the small chamber was the soft moaning and occasional whimpering of the young herbivore, whenever the priestess found a particularly tense muscle or an otherwise sensitive spot. Shirya’s little cries of pain and her tentative attempts to guide her hands to the right places almost made the tigress laugh. Over time, her hands wandered further and further down, toward Shirya’s small but shapely buttocks. Like the rest of the young tapir, her little cheeks were perfectly formed and, together with her narrow hips, made up a beautiful little package that the tigress found truly irresistible though she contented herself with giving them a thorough kneading. This caused Shirya’s moans and squeals to grow louder and, at times, take on entirely different qualities that didn’t necessarily have anything to do with pain. Raya had to be careful not to fall too deeply in love with the cute sounds the young woman was making on her table; that would only make everything much harder.

“It’s such a shame. Someone else could have had so much fun with you.”

Whispered the priestess, digging her fingers deep into Shirya’s buttocks once more.

“Nyaaahaaa…”

Shirya protested, biting down on the pillow. For her, what Rayas was doing to her was now less painful and much more arousing, and she had to restrain herself from moaning with pleasure.

“Just hearing that sweet voice…”

She added and continued with her massage. Slowly, she worked her way down from the center of her body toward Shirya’s legs. The tapir willingly spread her legs to grant her better access, and as Rayas kneaded her thighs, she couldn’t help but notice that her work was having a significant effect on her charge. It was definitely not oil that was glistening there between her thighs. The temptation to take advantage of this situation was great, and in the state Shirya was currently in, she would probably even agree to it, perhaps even welcome it, but Rayas held back.

It wasn’t her place to pursue such matters with one of the tributes, no matter how much he might be inclined toward it; she would snag one of the warriors later when it was all over and give free rein to her desires.

For the moment, however, she would focus entirely on her task and put her own needs aside.

Just as she had finished massaging her charge’s legs, the door to the chamber opened and the High Priestess entered with slow but determined steps. It was amazing how well she found her way around the temple despite her blindness and advanced age. In fact, she actively refused any help and emphasized time and again that the day she could no longer move independently and freely in her own home would be the day she would face her ancestors. Rayas immediately let go of Shirya, circled the table, and sank to her knees before the High Priestess, welcoming her spiritual leader with her head bowed. The High Priestess approached and gently placed her hand on Rayas’s head.

“Rise, my child.”

Said the old tigress, whose voice was now a little hoarser, but had lost none of its warmth and love. Rayas rose in an infinitely elegant movement and stood up to her full height before clearing the way to the table where the young herbivore was lounging.

“A delicate situation this tribute has brought us into.”

Whispered the High Priestess, stepping beside Rayas.

“And are you really quite certain, Rayas?”

She asked softly, though her voice betrayed no doubt whatsoever in her priestess’s abilities. The one addressed affirmed the question and yielded the floor to the elder. As soon as the High Priestess approached the table, Shirya recognized her immediately; her eyes widened and a radiant smile spread across her lips.

“Grandma…”

The words just bubbled out of her, and she reached out her hand to the old tigress, who immediately took it tenderly.

“Yes, my child, I am here.”

The High Priestess replied in her typically calm and composed manner, stroking Shirya’s hand as if she were her own flesh and blood, but she wasn’t here to hold hands, and so her next words were more serious.

“Tell me, my child, is it true that you haven’t found a partner yet?”

The tapir on the table grinned widely, giggled, and then shook her head.

“But no, Grandma, you know, they were all so stupid, and besides, none of them were good enough for the great-great-great…”

She counted the “greats” on her fingers.

“… great-great-great-granddaughter of the tribal elders.”

She explained in a slightly slurred voice, giggling repeatedly. The High Priestess nodded gently and continued to stroke her hand.

“It’s all right, my child. Wait a moment while I speak with Rayas.”

Shirya nodded and occupied herself while the old tigress turned to Rayas.

“How far along are you here, my child?”

Rayas glanced at the table before answering.

“The anointing is almost complete, but I still have to draw the runes, and the binding hasn’t been completed yet.”

She answered truthfully, though she found herself unable to completely banish her inner conflict from her voice. Her leader reached up, placed a hand on her cheek, and looked deep into her eyes.

“My child, you have done excellent work as always, but be careful now; do not make the mistake of binding yourself too closely to a tribute. Your task, as it is, is already difficult enough. Do not close your heart to them, but do not let them take root within it.”

The High Priestess warned earnestly, and Raya nodded silently. She knew what she meant, and she would make every effort not to become entangled in this conflict of hearts, even though she had to admit that it might already be too late for that.

“Good girl. The Great Khan will personally attend to this matter. I have already had him informed. You will accompany her to his chambers, but first make sure she can behave appropriately.”

Her voice was surprisingly firm, and she left no doubt that she would not tolerate any objection.

“Once this matter is settled, you will complete the anointing, draw the runes, and bind her. I will seal this chamber so there are no further delays later.”

Rayas nodded again; she would not disappoint the High Priestess.

“As you wish, exalted High Priestess.”

She replied and bowed deeply before the old tigress, who smiled gently and placed her hand on her head once more.

“Good girl.”

It was this praise that restored some of her resolve before the High Priestess finally turned away and left the room. Shirya watched the High Priestess go and blinked.

“Granny, where are you going? Stay here!”

She called after her, but the old tigress did not stop, and as the door closed behind her, Raya and Shirya were alone again in the small, dimly lit chamber. The young herbivore looked disappointed and let her head sink back onto the pillow, while the priestess watched her with amusement. No one had ever called the High Priestess “Granny”, not even the youngest among them, but in the drug-induced haze, rank and lineage lost their meaning. Her protégé still seemed pretty high if she was behaving this way toward the spiritual leader of the tigers. Amused, she turned toward the table and looked down at the tapir rolling gently back and forth.

“Now come on, Shirya, we have to keep going; there are still a few little things to take care of.”

Rayas urged, and the one addressed turned toward her, only to roll back onto her back and giggle.

“Ohhh? What else is there to do?”

The priestess left the question unanswered for the moment and offered her a hand to help, which was actually gratefully accepted. Carefully, she pulled the still-giggling tapir into an upright position, where it then remained sitting, swaying. She fervently hoped that the effects of the drugs would wear off soon; otherwise, the journey to the Great Khan’s lower chambers would likely become significantly more arduous. Shirya’s posture only slowly became more stable, and Raya briefly considered whether it might be quicker to toss the tapir into the small pool, but then decided against it; instead, she grinned conspiratorially.

“We’re both going to take a little walk; I know a very special young man who’d love to meet you.”

It was probably the wink she’d added to her statement, but the young herbivore’s eyes widened for a moment and her lips formed an “Ooooh…” before she giggled again.

“A man? You mean… so he can… with me…”

Then she formed a ring with her right hand and, grinning, slipped her left index finger through the hole, giggling like a little, excited girl. Rayas watched the brief little show and couldn’t help but grin herself before nodding, which only excited Shirya even more.

“Where is he?”

The female tapir wanted to know, mimicking a growling tiger complete with clawing paws and bared fangs which in turn elicited a chuckle and a broad grin from the priestess.

“He’s waiting for you in the Great Khan’s chambers, but it’s a bit of a walk, so we shouldn’t dawdle any longer.”

Rayas explained with a certain seriousness, noticing how her protégée’s expression darkened slightly. For a moment, she feared she might have spoken too sternly and would now have to comfort her again, but things turned out differently.

“Soooo far?”

Shirya whined, pushing out her lower lip defiantly. The priestess wanted to laugh and pull her away from the table by the ear, but she knew that wouldn’t accomplish anything and, if anything, would contradict her promise not to pressure her protégée. Meanwhile, the younger girl raised her arms and stretched them out toward the tigress.

“Carry me!”

She demanded with a pouting expression, but Raya shook her head; she wouldn’t give in to her now. The movement would help flush the drugs out of her system and clear her head a little from the fog.

“No, Shirya, Limas’s daughter, you’ll walk on your own. It’ll do you good, it’ll wake you up again, and you need that especially right now.”

Now the young tapir’s gaze darkened noticeably, and she looked down at the ground before taking a deep breath and then looking up at the tigress again. It was as if someone had flipped a switch inside her; her expression was serious, and her lips trembled slightly.

“You just want this to be over quickly so you can slaughter and devour me. Come on, be honest with me for once! That’s how it is, isn’t it?”

There was so much defiance, anger, and revulsion in her voice that Raya was almost startled. Where had the small, frightened tapir gone who had been sitting on the table just a moment ago? The outburst was short-lived, however, for before the priestess could formulate a suitable reply, the young woman slumped back down and began to tremble all over.

Pity seized the tigress as she saw a broken spirit sitting on the edge of the table.

What on earth drove you to walk the Path? A question she had asked herself many times regarding the Tributes, but never had she wanted an answer to this question as much as she did today. Gently, she took the young woman’s face in her hands and lifted it slightly. Shirya resisted, but she had no realistic chance against the gentle force Raya exerted. She looked into the large, reddened brown eyes, searching for the fire she had seen there before, and took a deep breath herself.

“I… I’m so sorry, but these are the rules we’ve all agreed to follow to maintain peace between our species. You yourself agreed to them when you stepped onto the path. Your… your own clan betrayed you when they let you walk the path instead of an old, sick tapir.”

She explained, her words catching in her throat at times. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes briefly, berating herself for not having listened to the High Priestess. When she opened her green-yellow eyes again, tears welled up in them.

“… and … and no, I don’t want to get this over with as quickly as possible, but we have no choice. Our time is limited, and the Great Khan it’s best not to keep him waiting.”

Raya sought understanding in the eyes of the tapir in front of her, but Shirya closed her eyes and rested her head heavily in her hands. The priestess wanted to shake her, wanted to scream her frustration into the chamber, but she held back, even though it was hard for her; instead, she pressed her lips together and waited. After a moment, her counterpart finally raised her hands and placed them on hers before opening her eyes again.

There was a determination and a fire in Shirya’s eyes that Rayas hadn’t seen there before; then the tapir slowly pulled the priestess’s hands away from her face.

“Then take me to him; I’ll show him what a herbivore is capable of.”

Rayas hadn't expected such a change of heart, at least not so drastic. Shocked and surprised, she looked at Shirya, who was struggling to maintain her focus; she swallowed and took a deep breath, hoping to regain her composure. She succeeded to some extent, but she felt composed enough to continue with her task.

She nodded to the young tapir and turned away from the table toward the door leading out of the chamber and further into the temple.

“All right, Shirya, stay close to me; I’ll take you to him.”

Her voice wasn’t quite calm yet; there was a certain tension, a tremor within her, lurking imperceptibly beneath the surface, showing that even the priestess was no longer fully in control of the situation. Her charge didn’t answer, but waited silently until she had opened the door and taken the first few steps into the corridor beyond, before sliding off the table and following her.

The hallway led past a large hall where the tributes, already prepared, were waiting for their turn in the ritual. They were all so high that they probably didn’t even know exactly where they were or why they were sitting there naked and bound. The next passageway offered a glimpse into one of the rooms beyond the ritual chamber, where the tributes were “processed” after the ritual. Rayas paid no attention to any of the rooms, but for Shirya it wasn’t that easy; she glanced briefly through the door and gasped.

“Don’t look there.”

The warning came too late, and the young herbivore’s breath caught in her throat before she could tear herself away from the gruesome sight; she squinted her eyes and quickly caught up with Rayas again.

“Will… will I also…”

She asked quietly, but Rayas did not answer. These were things no herbivore, no tribute, should see, even though the priests who prepared the bodies for consumption after the ritual sacrifice proceeded with the utmost care. Instead, she led her young protégé further into the depths of the temple.

After they had passed the barracks, where the clan’s warriors waited for the rituals to end, it grew quieter in the temple. During the rituals, most of the tigers were in the outer areas of the temple, busy with the various tasks associated with the sacrifices. Here in the inner chambers, only a few tigers were present. The lighting also grew increasingly sparse, as guests were not expected in these areas. And so the shadows deepened and the corners grew darker the further they ventured into the inner sanctuaries.

Shirya stayed close to her guide, as her night vision was nowhere near as good as that of the big cat ahead of her.

Finally, Rayas stopped a few steps in front of a large double door, before which stood two massive warriors who, unlike all the other tigers they had encountered so far, wore no ceremonial sashes but rather a kind of light armor and were armed with spears and clubs.

The guards had crossed their spears and were barring the two from entering, while eyeing both Rayas and Shirya with far more than just casual interest. Rayas stepped forward and greeted the guards in their own dialect, which was incomprehensible to Shirya.

Rayas’ gentle voice stood in stark contrast to her rough, growling counterpart, but after a brief exchange, the guard bowed deeply before the priestess and cleared the way through the heavy door.

If Shirya had thought the temple outside the door was dark, the darkness awaiting her beyond the threshold of this portal was impenetrable. Rayas nodded gratefully to the guards and stepped without hesitation into the silent darkness beyond the door, though it was almost as if the ink-like blackness swallowed the tigress whole. Shirya shook her head; all her instincts screamed at her not to follow the other. The darkness was the enemy. In the darkness, the hunters waited for their prey for her. It was an ancient, irrational fear, but one so deeply rooted within her that it seemed impossible to shake off.

“You should follow her…”

Growled one of the guards, and although it sounded brutal at first, there was an understanding in the giant tiger’s gaze that she hadn’t expected to find there.

“…nothing can happen to you in there; we’ll keep watch.”

He added, accompanying his statement with an inviting gesture. Shirya blinked and looked at the large dark portal and back at the guard, who smiled at her calmly; still, it took her some effort before she finally mustered the courage to follow the priestess. Fearfully, she squeezed between the guards and crossed the threshold into the darkness beyond the doors.

As the darkness enveloped her, it was as though not only the light refused to cross the threshold into the Khan’s chambers, but also all the sounds that had been audible just outside the doors. All she could hear now was her own heartbeat and the rush of blood in her ears. Fear welled up inside her, a primitive, wild fear unlike anything she had ever felt before.

She knew that nothing could really happen to her, and that Rayas would watch over her that was part of her duty, as far as the young tapir knew and yet her knees went weak.

“Rayas…? Where… where are you?”

She whispered, unsure if the words had even left her lips, so loud did her heartbeat sound in her ears, and as if out of nowhere, the priestess’s large, heavy hand gently rested on her shoulder. Shirya nearly collapsed.

“Shh… I’m here, don’t be afraid. The Great Khan’s chambers are always in darkness. We are in the innermost chambers of the temple; there is no natural light here, but once your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, you too will be able to see down here.”

Raya’s voice was gentle and full of reverence; entering the Great Khan’s chambers was normally reserved for the High Priestess, his concubines, and a few other direct subordinates of the Great Khan. For her, it was the first time she had entered these chambers, and it filled her with a certain humility.

“Stay close to me; I will guide you.”

She added, taking her protégée’s hand. It was a good thing Shirya couldn’t see; the walls of this first room were hung with the hides and skins of the defeated tribes. The Great Khan and his predecessors had made it a sort of tradition to have the hides of their slain enemies stripped, tanned, and then hung in this room. They were macabre trophies, a reminder of a time when there was still no peace in the jungle. She didn’t want to stay in this chamber too long before her charge’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she had to endure the disturbing sight.

The priestess quickly led the young herbivore through the room and on into a corridor that took them past the Khan’s harem.

Traditionally, the Great Khan maintained a small but elite harem, in which selected tigresses served as concubines for the leader of the tigers. In earlier times, when the tigers had been far more numerous, the harem had occupied significantly more space, but since they had limited themselves to a strictly limited number for the sake of the community, the Khan’s harem had also shrunk. Nowadays, it usually consisted of five to six felines, and being one of these chosen ones was a great honor for the tigress’s family.

On most days, as was the case today, there was a lively atmosphere in the concubines’ chambers, and one could already hear them chatting animatedly with one another in the hallway.

“Who’s that?”

Her protégé asked in a whisper.

“Those are the Great Khan’s concubines. They live together in these chambers.”

Raya explained quietly over her shoulder as they walked down the hallway. Further ahead, the two could see the faint glow of lamps shining through one of the doors. The young tapir felt drawn to the light like a moth, while the priestess tried to get past the door as quickly as possible. It wasn’t that the lovers of her worldly leader weren’t nice quite the opposite but she did indeed want to deliver her tribute to said leader as soon as possible.

Fate had other plans, for just as they reached the door, it opened and one of the concubines filled the frame. She was significantly taller than Rayas, more muscular, and older; the scars visible through her thick, short fur told of the battles she had fought, both on the battlefield and in her master’s chambers. She looked at the two of them with a benevolent yet slightly condescending smile. Rayas stopped immediately and bowed deeply; theoretically, they were equals in terms of social rank, but one did not anger one of the Khan’s concubines not if one did not want to be dragged into the training pits.

“Is that her?”

Asked the larger tigress with an appreciative nod, her voice a mixture of purrs and whispers, whereupon the priestess nodded slightly.

“Yes, we’re on our way to him right now.”

Rayas confirmed quietly, positioning herself between the concubine and Shirya, which only served to widen the smile on the mistress’s lips; then, with an elegant, effortless gesture, she pushed the priestess aside and stood directly in front of Shirya. The young tapir looked up at her in awe, unsure if fleeing was even an option.

“Let me take a look at you, child.”

Purred the tigress; though spoken without aggression, her words did not carry the same warm, caring tone as those of the High Priestess or Rayas hers were those of a hunter addressing its next meal. An unpleasant shiver ran down the herbivore’s spine as the big cat scrutinized her, and for the first time since she had entered the temple, she truly felt the threat emanating from the tigers. Before the tapir could completely panic, the great tigress nodded and leaned down toward her, taking her hands in her massive paws and gesturing to kiss them.

“Thank you for the noble sacrifice you are willing to make for the community. Respect and honor are due to you.”

Her words sounded sincere, and as she straightened up again, there was something different in her gaze that Shirya couldn’t quite interpret was it respect, desire, or perhaps just hunger? She remained silent; it was simply too bizarre and too much for her to process all at once. She merely nodded briefly, and the concubine turned her attention back to Rayas.

“Well, go now; he doesn’t like to wait. You’re lucky; he’s in a good mood today. Marfille and Ébano have been selflessly tending to him; he’s purring like a kitten.”

At which point Rayas nodded gently and took Shirya’s hand.

“Thank you. Come, Shirya; we should take you to the Great Khan.”

The girl in question remained passive but let the priestess lead her along, while the concubine watched them go and then slowly retreated back into the harem. As the door closed behind the tigress, it grew quiet and dark again in the hallway.

“We’ll be there soon; you don’t need to be afraid.”

It had become something of a reflex for Rayas, who pulled her charge along the short corridor behind her. Shirya merely grunted a vague agreement and continued to follow her until, a short time later, they stood before a large, richly decorated door. Rayas took a deep breath and turned to the young herbivore; even in the darkness of the corridor, she could see the worry on her face. Gently, she stroked the younger one’s cheek and tried to sound calm and empathetic.

“Behind that door lies the Great Khan’s chamber. Do you realize what will happen in there?”

It was little more than a soft whisper, but Rayas somehow managed to convey a sense of urgency in her words. Shirya did not avert her gaze, but instead flattened her ears and jutted her chin forward slightly.

“Yes, the Great Khan will rape me so that I may experience all the varieties of life before… before I die.”

Shirya’s voice sounded defiant at first, but then it sounded strangely distant, as if she had accepted that this was inevitable, but the priestess before her shook her head and stroked her cheek once more, feeling the slight tremor beneath her fingers and trying to smile.

“No, Shirya, the Great Khan will not rape you. He is a loving, caring ruler; he takes care to respect the traditions and rules of the community. He will consummate the act with you there is no doubt of that but there will be no violence involved. I promise you that he will be tender.”

The priestess continued to speak softly, and when her younger counterpart didn’t seem convinced, she tilted her head slightly, brushed a strand of hair from the tapir’s face, and began again:

“Listen, you should be proud of yourself; there aren’t many herbivores who can claim to have ever had intercourse with a tiger, let alone the Great Khan himself.”

She still didn’t seem entirely convinced, so Rayas leaned down toward her and whispered in her ear:

“Besides, the little Khan is also pretty big.”

Now her eyes widened, and when the priestess, grinning broadly, used her hands to suggest a certain size, even Shirya couldn’t help but smile and let out a short chuckle. Satisfied with her result, she pulled the younger woman into a warm, tight embrace and pressed her lips to her head.

“That’s better…”

She murmured, pressing the tapir against her chest once more.

“…and now go in there and show the Great Khan what it means to be a descendant of Lima.”

When Rayas released her from the embrace, Shirya looked at her questioningly.

“Wait… you… you’re not coming with me?”

She asked uncertainly, but the priestess only shook her head slowly.

“No, I’m not allowed to enter the Great Khan’s chambers, but I’ll wait for you here, I promise.”

The priestess explained calmly and turned toward the door, but before she could reach for the doorknob, Shirya held her back.

“… wait… please…”

She wasn’t quite sure what the tigress was supposed to wait for; it wasn’t as if delaying the inevitable for another moment would change anything, but right now her emotions were on a roller coaster and she didn’t know how to bring even a shred of order to her thoughts.

She didn’t want to go into the Khan’s chambers alone; she was afraid of what would happen there. No… she wasn’t afraid of sex itself; she was afraid of the Great Khan. Even though she had never met him before, the mere thought of being alone with the most powerful of all tigers terrified her. At the same time, however, she didn’t want Rayas watching them; what he would do to her in that room was the most intimate thing she would ever do in her life, and she didn’t want anyone watching her do it. Then again, she’d been running around naked in a temple full of bloodthirsty tigers for what felt like hours, and they’d all seen her naked, and Rayas had… touched her yes, touched was a good word.

Why was she so embarrassed by this? It didn’t matter anymore; before the sun even rose above the horizon, she would be dead, killed by the subjects of the one who was about to take her virginity.

She began to tremble, overwhelmed by her emotions and unable to organize her thoughts.

“Shh… calm down, Shirya… it’s all right. You can do this; I have great faith in you.”

The priestess tried to comfort her and hugged her once more.

“There’s nothing in there for you to be afraid of.”

It took a moment longer before the younger woman slowly freed herself from the embrace and took another deep breath, but then she turned toward the door and nodded. Rayas opened the door and let her protégé pass, who hesitantly crossed the threshold into the tiger’s den.

She hadn’t quite entered the room yet when the priestess closed the door behind her, locking her in with the leader of the tigers.

Now she was alone with herself and the most powerful predator roaming the jungle, and instantly a queasy feeling spread through her stomach, but there was nothing she could do about it now. Fearfully, she looked around; the chamber was surprisingly large or at least it seemed large, for in the prevailing darkness she could not quite gauge the distances to the walls. At least it was brighter than in the corridor outside the chamber, for someone had lit a small oil lamp in one of the corners, and even that meager light suggested a certain degree of safety for the young herbivore. To her left, a row of low chests of drawers lined the wall until they disappeared into the deep shadows, and to her right she could make out a large sleeping area that appeared to be padded with plenty of furs and pillows, and she assumed she would spend most of her stay there.

“It is an extraordinary pleasure to meet you, Shirya, daughter of Lima.”

She startled and looked ahead, into the darkest shadows of the room, from where the voice had come. Just for a moment, she could see the glint of his pupils in the darkness. Her breath caught; she hadn’t noticed him at all. Of course, it had smelled of tiger in the Khan’s chamber though it did so everywhere in the temple but she had neither seen nor heard him as he waited for her there in the darkness.

“… Sire … I …”

She stammered and stood rooted to the spot. In the darkness before her, the tiger’s teeth flashed briefly.

“Calm down, little Shirya. Why don’t you come a little closer?”

His voice was deep, masculine, and despite the fact that he spoke very softly, it had a resonance that sent shivers down her spine; yet it was so very different from what she had imagined for the despot who ruled the jungle with an iron claw. She hesitated, afraid of the unknown lurking there in the shadows, but finally she took courage, for she knew there was no other way out of this situation. Carefully, she put one foot in front of the other and ventured further into the room.

With every step she took, she pushed the shadows back a little further, until finally a stone throne emerged from the shadows, and with it the tiger sitting upon it though “sitting” was not quite the right word. The Great Khan sprawled across his throne, his left leg draped over one armrest, his right elbow resting on the other, and his head resting on his hand. His pupils were dilated and seemed to glow in the darkness that surrounded him.

And he was naked, completely naked, not even wearing a single one of those ceremonial sashes that nearly all the tigers she had seen that day had been wearing. He was tall, really tall, a stately warrior, muscular, at the peak of his physical development, and as she stared at him unabashedly, her gaze wandered to his midsection, where she saw his little Khan. However, the term “little” did not apply here at all. Even though she herself had no experience yet, she had certainly seen a few specimens, but none had been anywhere near this caliber. Shirya had to admit, however, that most of the men she had seen naked so far had also been significantly smaller in every other respect and less… attractive.

She blushed at the thought.

“Do you like what you see?”

He asked with a broad, knowing smile on his lips. He sounded amused, but not in a negative way; it was more as if he’d caught a young girl trying to sneak into the boys’ bathhouse. She felt her cheeks begin to glow and couldn’t help but nod.

And then she felt his gaze rest on her. It was like a fire burning on her skin as he devoured her with his eyes. It was something completely different from before. This wasn’t the meat inspection meant to determine how many mouths they could feed with her body; this was pure desire, the lust of the flesh. He would devour her, but in a completely different way, and she was tempted to let him.

“Lord… Great Khan… I…”

She stammered as her mind tried to tear her eyes away from him, but like a rabbit in the face of a snake, she was paralyzed. The Great Khan slowly sat up.

“Shh, ssshh… relax… for the moment, we are just two animals trying to find each other and unite. We are neither hunter and prey, nor are we ruler and subject…”

He began calmly, looking deep into her eyes.

“…unless…”

He added, raising his eyebrows as he opened his hands in an inviting gesture.

“…unless you want it that way…”

At which point Shirya shook her head firmly; it would be her first time, he would be her first, and it was already a challenge she could barely overcome she didn’t want a bloodthirsty tyrant. The Khan nodded gently and made a beckoning gesture.

“Good, then come closer, show me your body.”

Shirya hesitated; her instincts were sending her conflicting signals. On the one hand, her body wanted to go to him an inner urge she couldn’t explain drew her to him but at the same time, her survival instinct screamed at her to flee while she still could. Several times she put one foot forward, but then was unable to take the step she had already begun. Across from her sat the Great Khan, at peace with himself, smiling, waiting. He was patient; there was no reason to pressure or rush her now, but nevertheless he finally raised his hand and extended it toward her.

“You have nothing to fear; I won’t hurt you.”

It sounded so incredibly sincere, and she could detect no ill intent in him; perhaps Raya was right after all, and he wouldn’t just rape her. She looked at him for another moment and realized that he, too, liked what he saw, so she took a deep breath and swallowed her fear, gathered all her courage, and took the first step. Her movements were stiff, awkward, and hesitant, but the Great Khan nodded encouragingly at her, which bolstered her confidence. With the next small step, she already seemed a little more at ease, and as his smile widened and he licked his lips, it ignited a small fire within her. She tried to move more femininely, crossing her legs with the next step and letting her narrow hips sway to the side, which prompted the Khan to lean forward slightly and look more closely. Spurred on by the great tiger’s latest reactions, Shirya found her smile again. She took another step and stood up to her full height, pulling her shoulders back and presenting her small but shapely breasts; she didn’t miss the sparkle in the Khan’s eyes, and when she saw him place his hand on his member and begin to stroke it, she liked the thought that she had at least a modicum of control over him.

“Ohooo, so I see you do know how to seduce a man after all.”

He purred as she neared him. Now that she was so close, she could feel his hunger, see his desire, and smell his unique scent. He smelled spicy, masculine, with a hint of musk; much to her surprise, she found his scent pleasant, and the longer she was exposed to it, the more things happened inside her that she couldn’t explain. Ice-cold shivers ran down her spine as she smelled him and felt his gaze upon her.

She stood before him, her legs slightly apart, her hips shifted to the side, and one arm crossed in front of her body, which lifted her breasts slightly and made them appear larger than they actually were. They both looked at each other, breathing in the scent of the other, and waited for her to take the final step.

Shirya couldn’t help but devour the mighty tiger with her eyes. Everything about him literally screamed: I have the power, I am superior to you, I could do whatever I want with you and you couldn’t do a thing about it! And yet he didn’t move; he didn’t need to. Shirya shuddered at the thought of being completely at his mercy, no chance of escape, no chance of victory; she could surrender herself to him completely. He would devour her, skin and hair and everything else, but at that moment, when it was only about the fulfillment of her carnal desires, she suddenly didn’t care. It was an astonishingly positive feeling. She looked into his eyes and almost lost herself in them.

Trembling, she raised her hand and placed it in his outstretched paw. It seemed so small and delicate compared to his, and when he closed it, it practically vanished in his grip. Incredibly gently, he pulled her toward him until she was practically right in front of him and could feel his hot breath on her breasts. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and smiled as she giggled softly, then let his hands caress her flanks tenderly, gently emphasizing her curves.

“Hmmm, yes, you really are perfect.”

He purred and rose slowly but elegantly from his throne, standing tall before her. He towered over her by nearly half her own height, and as she stood there before him, she barely reached his chest. She looked up at him in awe and wanted to lean against his chest, but hesitated. It took her quite a bit of effort to actually lean against him, but when she finally dared to, it was an incredibly uplifting feeling. His fur was soft, not as bristly as her own, and he was so incredibly warm; with every deep breath he took, she felt the play of his strong muscles beneath his chest.

She was just about to snuggle up completely against him when she felt something pressing against her stomach. She had a vague idea of what she would find there, but when she actually let her gaze slide down over his belly, what she saw far exceeded her imagination. The little Khan stood proudly at the level of her navel, demanding her attention.

“Oooooh…”

She gasped before she could stop herself, which made the big tiger grin. He knew this reaction from most women when they saw his little Khan up close for the first time. His hand found her cheek and stroked it gently.

“Go ahead… he doesn’t bite…”

He whispered playfully, though there was more than just an invitation in his voice. Shirya swallowed, but then, with trembling hands, accepted his invitation and wrapped her hands around the Khan’s member. It was warm, hard, yet yielded slightly, and she felt it pulsing in her hands. It was so bizarre; nothing she had ever seen or felt before came close to it. She held him tight and couldn’t suppress a girlish giggle. Meanwhile, he ran his hand down her cheek beneath her chin, and with a gentleness she would never have credited him with, he lifted it slightly so he could look into her eyes.

In his green-yellow eyes lay desire, impatience, and greed, but also understanding, compassion, and lust, and even as she lost herself in his eyes, he leaned down and kissed her. Shirya was completely taken by surprise, but she didn’t resist him; on the contrary, she returned the kiss.

It was her first real kiss, at least the first one that truly meant anything. For Shirya, it was a strange experience: his rough tongue demanding entry into her mouth, her lack of experience in such matters, and not least the odd angle at which they were positioned relative to one another made her first kiss… almost uncomfortable. Even as they both struggled with this first intimate, physical contact, the Khan let his hands slide down her neck and back until they reached her buttocks, where he cupped her sweet, little cheeks. When his sharp claws dug into her soft skin, she squealed in fright, the sound muffled by his lips.

She didn’t know what was happening to her when he then simply lifted her up until she was at eye level with him. For a moment she stiffened and widened her eyes, but then she wrapped her legs around his chest and her arms around his neck. Only now did she break the kiss, pulling her head back slightly and breathing heavily. Now it was her gaze that carried the hunger for more, and before he could say a word, she kissed him deeply once more. Hungrily, the Great Khan returned her kiss, deepening it, and where restraint had reigned just moments before, greed and lust now took the lead.

Willingly, Shirya opened her mouth for him and received his rough tongue, wrapping her own long tongue around it and craving more. And more she was to get, as the tiger began to knead her buttocks, and she flinched with every firm grip on her muscles. The young tapir clung to his shoulders, and whenever she had the chance, she let out a brief moan.

And indeed, for a moment, her worries about what might come were forgotten; all that existed for her now was the strong tiger holding her, his broad shoulders she clung to, and his tongue, which nearly took her breath away. She didn’t notice how he slowly walked over to his bed and stopped there. He took one of his hands off her butt and let his claws gently run up her back. Shirya shuddered and drew a sharp breath before he was the one to end the kiss and slowly pull his head back a little. Their connection lasted just a moment longer before the thin threads of saliva between them snapped. Breathing heavily, she looked at him, and uncertainty crept into her gaze as her fear found its way back into her mind.

“I… I’m scared.”

It was little more than a whisper, but it carried all her fear and uncertainty as she gazed into his calm eyes. In that moment, she seemed infinitely vulnerable, and it aroused him just as much, while ancient instincts which, even after two hundred years, had never truly been lost threatened to take hold of him, but he maintained control and smiled gently instead. Carefully, he knelt down and set her on his bed, withdrew his paw from beneath her bottom, and tenderly stroked her cheek.

“I know.”

He whispered, adding his other hand to cup her face, caressing her cheeks, and resting his forehead against hers.

“You don’t need to be afraid not here, not now, and not of me.”

He murmured as he rubbed his forehead against hers.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

He felt her hesitant nod, and his smile widened slightly before he gently pulled his head back and looked at her. She seemed a little more composed, and there was the hint of a smile on her lips.

“Brave girl.”

He added, running his thumbs over her lips and then letting his hands slide down her neck, over her shoulders, and toward her breasts, and though they weren’t exactly small, his huge hands covered them completely. He tenderly caressed her soft, shapely breasts and finally lifted them very gently, causing Shirya to blush bashfully. When he saw this, he raised his eyebrows slightly and began to massage them gently. Every time he tugged at one of her nipples or kneaded her breasts a little firmer, she let out a small sigh and her hands dug deeper into the furs.

It didn’t take long before her nipples were rock-hard and swollen a deep red, and every further touch sent small electric shocks through her body, each accompanied by a small, embarrassed moan. Spurred on by her reactions, the Great Khan leaned forward and kissed her again, while his hands diligently continued their work. Instantly, his lips muffled her moans and sighs the tapir was fine with that much but when he pushed her backward, she stiffened for a moment. However, she lacked both the strength and the bulk to prevent a big tiger like him from pressing her backward onto his bed.

So she fell backward and lay there while the Great Khan crouched over her like the predator he was. His prey trembled slightly, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps, and her cheeks were positively glowing. He let it sink in for a moment, his smile widening until it finally revealed his teeth, before he slowly leaned down toward her with a soft growl. When he finally opened his mouth, Shirya flinched briefly, but instead of biting her neck, he merely nibbled playfully at her collarbone, while his hands slid away from her breasts and wandered down her flanks. The completely overwhelmed young herbivore hadn’t quite recovered from her shock when she felt his rough tongue lick across her breast and his lips close around her nipple.

“Haaahn…”

She gasped, then threw her head back and bit her lip as he sucked on her breasts, licking them and nibbling on her nipples.

There was no doubt that he was taking his time to enjoy the cute little sounds she kept making, but then he let go of them and slowly made his way further down. First over her stomach to her navel, which made her giggle and caused her to lift her head to see what he was up to. Her eyes widened as she watched him get closer to her intimate area with every little kiss; she responded to each of these brief, sensual touches with a small sigh.

Even though Rayas had assured her of it several times, she hadn’t expected the leader of her clan to be so tender and so restrained; even now, she had expected him to simply take her and then throw her to his subordinates as prey. What was happening right now was something she could never have imagined in her wildest dreams, and the longer it lasted, the less she wanted it to ever end.

His kiss his last for now landed on the peak of her small mound, where the Great Khan paused briefly to take in her scent, while his hands held her hips firmly in place. She felt his hot breath on the fine fuzz covering her private area, which was now completely soaked with her lust, and every new breath sent ice-cold shivers down her spine, giving her goosebumps in places she never would have thought possible.

But why didn’t he continue? Why was he making her wait, when his own desire was so clearly visible in his eyes? She caught herself whimpering softly and pleadingly, whereupon the mighty tiger looked up at her with a predatory grin and winked at her, but before she could respond, he let out a soft, deep growl whose vibrations she felt more than she heard. Then he lowered his muzzle between her thighs and carefully ran his rough tongue over her pubis. Instantly, her whimpering stopped and she gasped for air as her thighs clenched reflexively, but this did not in the least deter the Khan from continuing to lick her and taste her juices.

This experience was completely new to the young tapir; it wasn’t that she had never pleasured herself before, but nothing had ever come close to this. At the same time, the big feline between her legs began to gently press his tongue between her lips, further heightening the intensity of the sensations. Shirya threw her head back and let out a lustful moan into the darkness of the chamber, which only drove him on further. He gripped her hips tighter and pushed his tongue deeper between her folds as he slowly worked his way toward her pleasure button.

When he brushed that small, highly sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue for the first time, a shudder ran through the body of the inexperienced little tapir, who gasped for air once more. Never before had anyone other than herself touched this, her most sensitive spot, and in her aroused state, that was almost enough to push her over the edge. Her body arched beneath his caresses, and she reached for his ears, but instead of pushing him away or even trying to stop him, she pulled him closer to her, pressing his snout more firmly against her pubic mound.

“Oooohh … by the ancestors … hnnnnn … no … not there … not thereee …”

She moaned out her pleasure as he continued to feast on her. He licked, sucked, and nibbled at her labia and clitoris, delighting in her tremors and the sounds of pleasure he could elicit with his teasing. It was simply too delicious for the great tiger to be with such an inexperienced young woman and to exploit that very lack of experience to his advantage.

His efforts were soon to bear fruit, for Shirya wrapped her legs tightly around his head, and her muscles began to twitch uncontrollably as she pulled at his ears like a madwoman. The Great Khan ignored the pain, even as her claws dug into his ears; he was too busy pushing his tongue deeper into her.

When she finally came, it happened so suddenly that neither of them had expected it. A guttural scream escaped her throat as she arched her back and her muscles tensed, then she finally let go of his ears and fell backward.

“Aaaaahnnnrrr … Hnnnnyaaa …”

She saw stars dancing before her eyes, and her body twitched a little more as she lay on the Great Khan’s bed, breathing heavily and savoring the afterglow of her climax.

Meanwhile, the mighty tiger freed himself from the grip of her legs with a grin and lifted his head from her lap. Surveying his handiwork, he licked the wetness from his lips and nose with relish.

He found her beautiful, lying there before him: naked, legs spread, her skin flushed with exertion, shame, and lust, and bathed in sweat. He watched as her breasts rose and fell in time with her rapid breathing and how the small beads of sweat slowly trickled down them. She had an angelic smile on her lips, and every few breaths her tongue flashed out to moisten her lips once more. His eyes wandered downward again, between her legs, where her shame slowly pulsed and threatened to draw him back into its spell. Hunger awoke within him once more, an old, primal hunger he was only too eager to give in to, and so he sat up and looked down at her.

“Are you ready?”

He finally asked softly, and she lifted her head, looked him in the eyes, and swallowed before nodding uncertainly. So now it was going to happen her first and probably her last time. The others had always said you never forget your first time; well, she certainly wouldn’t forget it, but the others had also always laughed and said what a disaster their first time had been. The thought that her only experience with actual sex could turn into a disaster worried her, though she told herself that no matter how good or bad the next few minutes turned out to be, she wouldn’t live long enough to have to dwell on it for too long.

“Please… it’s my first… my only time…”

She finally said cautiously, which brought a warm smile to his lips before he slid closer to her until he was practically kneeling between her thighs and his erect member rested on her lower abdomen. It looked obscenely large compared to her petite frame, and when she saw it lying there like that, her pupils dilated.

“By the ancestors…”

She gasped in fright and propped herself up on her elbows, but resisted the urge to touch it.

“…that… that will never work…”

She admitted meekly, but the Great Khan leaned down toward her and gently placed a finger on her lips.

“Don’t be afraid, we’ll be very careful and we’re in no hurry.”

He whispered and gave her a little kiss on her long nose. When he sat up again, she nodded hesitantly, while he leaned back very slowly and his member slid slowly into position. He stabilized her pelvis with one hand and used the other to guide his manhood to her entrance. Once his little Khan was in place, he began to apply a little pressure very gently and then waited until she gave in and let him enter.

“Relax; the more you resist, the more it will hurt in the end.”

She nodded and clenched her teeth; she tried to relax, but her body wasn’t ready yet to receive an intruder, let alone one of that size. The Great Khan was patient and gave her the time her body needed to relax. Only when he finally felt the resistance in her muscles slowly ease did he gently enter her. He could feel how much he was stretching her vagina as his little Khan gained access to her innermost temple. He knew that the next step would be truly painful, especially given the size difference between their species, so he stopped his movement just before he reached the actual barrier. Shirya, on the other hand, was already at her limit, and her hands clawed at the furs spread across the bed, while each of her breaths was accompanied by a pained moan.

He leaned down toward her once more and stroked her cheek.

“Shh… I know it’s hard, but try to let go. It’s going to hurt a lot for a moment, but it’ll get better after that. If it helps, you can bite down on this.”

He explained, holding his paw in front of her snout. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, her breathing heavy and irregular, and her body vehemently refusing to relax, but there was a determination in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. As her eyes focused on his paw, she bit down without hesitation, not only to distract herself from her own pain, but also to pay him back for some of it, but the Great Khan didn’t even flinch, not even when she used her hands to help and dug her claws into his forearm. The tiger merely nodded silently and concentrated on the task before him.

Carefully, he pushed deeper until he finally felt resistance, whereupon he took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. A fire burned in Shiry’s brown eyes that he couldn’t quite interpret was it hatred, pain, or perhaps lust after all? It didn’t matter, for she blinked and he thrust forward. The resistance of her hymen held against his thrust for the blink of an eye, then gave way, and she squeezed her eyes shut, biting down with all her might and screaming her pain into his hand. Blood ran down the Great Khan’s forearm where her claws had dug into him, as well as from the corner of her mouth, while her blood flowed from elsewhere. This time, too, he didn’t flinch; instead, his benevolent smile continued to grace his lips, though he paused in his movement and gave her time to adjust to the new situation. After a brief moment, he released his hand from her pelvis and placed it on her cheek, wiping away her tears.

“Brave girl, I am very proud of you.”

The Great Khan whispered softly and continued to stroke her cheek while she kept her eyes closed and sobbed. Even though he could feel her muscles slowly relaxing, he decided to give her a little more time before moving on. For now, he continued to speak to her:

“That’s good, take a deep breath.”

His deep, calm voice and the fact that he was sensitive enough to give her the time she needed seemed to help, for she slowly calmed down and tried to breathe deeply. When she finally tasted his blood, her eyes flew open and she stared in horror at his hand and forearm. She immediately let go of him and started to apologize, but he placed his finger on her lips again.

“No, no, don’t worry about it, it’s okay. It was necessary to help you. And no, I’m not mad at you… relax…”

It wasn’t really advice, nor was it a request; it was almost a command, which he underscored with a gentle smile before he began to move again. At first very slowly and with small movements, just enough that they could truly be called such. Each of his small undulations was accompanied by bated breath and short sighs.

He kept his movements within this small range a little longer so that Shirya would have more time to get used to his sheer size, but he brought his hand back down to her hip and used the other to lift one of her legs. Very gradually, her sighs and moans changed; they were still mostly filled with pain, but the longer their union lasted, the more another sound mingled in.

Over time, he noticed how she used her muscles to literally push him out, yet at the same time, how she relaxed again so he could penetrate her deeper, until she finally truly welcomed him. Spurred on by this development, he pushed himself a little deeper into her with each thrust, which in turn caused her to moan louder though this time it was a moan of pleasure.

In the last few minutes, the tide had turned almost completely. Of course, there was still pain, and the tiger who was pushing her to the very limits of what her body could handle was still far too big, but it had actually started to feel really good, and by now that sense of pleasure clearly outweighed the rest. She had dug her nails into the furs again, but less because her muscles were cramping and more so that the Great Khan wouldn’t push her across his bed while he used his strength to transport her to other realms. Every now and then she lifted her head to look up at him as he used his godlike body with bared teeth. She wanted to reach out her hand to him, wanted to feel his rock-hard muscles, wanted to feel the heat radiating from his body, but that would mean letting go of the furs and being tossed back and forth by his powerful thrusts.

Every so often he mixed particularly powerful thrusts into his rhythm, and Shirya bit her lip, hoping not to scream too loudly when he did so, but she only managed it sometimes.

While in the Great Khan’s chamber the young tapir woman voiced her pleasure ever more loudly, Rayas crouched outside the door and listened to the goings-on. The sounds reaching her from inside had already had a profound effect on her, for her fingers were buried deep inside her own vagina, moving in and out at a rapid pace. She bit down on the finger of her other hand to stifle her own moans as she pressed her ear against the door and pleasured herself. Her breath came in short, rapid, and irregular gasps, occasionally letting out a stifled whimper. She imagined herself in Shirya’s place, and the louder the young herbivore moaned, the more she tensed as she slowly approached her own climax.

Inside the chamber, Shirya was nearing her second orgasm, and the Great Khan was also slowly but surely reaching that point. By now, he had thrown all restraint to the wind, holding both of the young tapir’s legs high and using his superior strength to literally ram his member into her. Each of his powerful thrusts sent shockwaves through her body and made her breasts bounce up and down, while she bit her own finger to keep from screaming every time he struck the end of her love tunnel. Her face was drenched in her tears, and yet she craved more, and the Great Khan was willing to give her everything he had. He watched the hypnotic movements of her breasts as he bared his teeth, long strands of saliva hanging from his chin, his breath coming in short, hot gasps in time with the movements of his hips.

“Ahnnn … haahnnn … nnnyaaa … al … almmmmmost …”

She squeezed out and began kneading her breasts and pulling on her nipples, having forgotten her attempt to brace against the tiger’s brutal strength. Meanwhile, the Khan noticed how her muscles slowly tensed and she grew tighter and tighter. It would indeed not be long now, and the added friction was driving him nearly mad. If this continued, he too would not be able to hold out much longer.

The mighty tiger raised his head and growled into the darkness of his chamber; he would not come before her, never. He increased his pace once more and pressed her thighs together to heighten the intensity, which rapidly transformed her moans into cries of pleasure. And then it happened:

“Yeees… yeees… Nnyaahaaaaanrrr…”

She arched her back against him and screamed her orgasm into the Khan’s chamber, while her muscles tensed convulsively and her hands clawed painfully at her breasts. She began to twitch uncontrollably in his grip and nearly kicked him in the face, but even the Great Khan could no longer hold back and released his seed into her vagina with a mighty roar. With several powerful thrusts, he emptied his scrotum into her, while her back arched and her pelvis lifted against him. In unison, they screamed their climax against the thick walls before their muscle tension finally collapsed and the mighty tiger collapsed on top of her; neither of them had heard the muffled scream that came from outside.

The Great Khan lay on top of Shirya’s body, visibly satisfied with the result of his efforts; his breathing was already returning to normal, but he lingered in the moment a little longer. Beneath him, Shirya needed a little more time to gather her thoughts and truly grasp what had just happened. So much had happened in such a short time; it was like a whirlpool of emotions, but the heavy body still lying on top of her and radiating its heat, the penis still inside her but slowly softening, and the calm, powerful heartbeat so starkly contrasting with her own fluttering pulse quickly brought her back down to earth. She was breathing heavily; her constitution was nowhere near that of the mighty tiger lying purring on top of her, whose hot breath she felt on her ears now and then, but as the afterglow of her climax slowly faded, the fear of what was about to happen returned. The leader of the tigers had had sex with her; more than that, he had taken her virginity, and as beautiful as it had been in the end, now nothing stood in the way of her sacrifice.

This realization hit her like a punch to the gut, and once again tears welled up in her eyes. She began to sob and pulled her hands up to her face. Of course, this did not go unnoticed by the Great Khan, and he slowly pushed himself up from her to give her room to breathe, and as soon as she had the chance, she curled up into a tight ball. He could understand her all too well, but there was nothing he could do at least not if he didn’t want to jeopardize the entire agreement.

Taking a deep breath, he sat down beside her, placed his large paw on her back, and stroked her gently.

“I’m sorry, child, but this is the way. The way of all flesh.”

He whispered, trying not to let the sadness overwhelm him as well. His comfort did her little good; she would now die, they would lead her to the scaffold and take her life so that the others might live on. It wasn’t fair nothing about it was fair. Without the agreement, she would at least have had a chance, a slim one, but it would have existed; the agreement had taken that away from her.

Beside her, the Khan struggled with himself and his compassion, but he had to remain firm; too much was at stake, for too many.

“Come here…”

He finally said and gently pulled her toward him. She lifted her head briefly, looking at him through tear-filled eyes as he patted his lap. It took a moment before she was able to turn toward him and climb onto him, just to be embraced by him. He pressed her gently against his chest and held her there as her body trembled with her sobs.

“It’s all right, let it out…”

He whispered softly and lovingly, stroking her back and resting his head against hers. He felt the heat radiating from her face and her tears soaking through the fur on his chest he didn’t care. He began humming an old nursery rhyme that his mother had always sung to him when he was feeling down, and rocked slowly back and forth, hoping it would help her calm down a little. It looked ridiculous, but it seemed to work, because over time her tremors slowly subsided and her breathing calmed down a little. She laid her head on his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat and breathing, while the tiger continued to stroke her back and gently massage her neck. It had been a hard day for the young tapir, and it wasn’t over yet.

Full of compassion, the Great Khan looked down at the little bundle of misery in his lap and began to doubt his convictions. He bit his lip and racked his brain, trying to figure out how he could change things, but if he showed weakness now, everything they had gone to war for 200 years ago and which had brought them 200 years of peace and prosperity afterward would vanish into thin air in an instant. They would have to hunt again, the animals would live in fear once more, and in the end, more animals would likely die not to mention that they would no longer have the time or the resources to protect their borders from other carnivores. There would be less prosperity for everyone, but it would be fairer again.

Survival of the fittest, the law of the jungle, just as nature had once intended.

He kissed her tenderly on the head and continued to stroke her. Shirya only sobbed now and then; her breathing had almost completely calmed down, but her tears continued to run down her cheeks.

“Do you need a little more time?”

He finally asked softly, feeling her nod shakily and burrow even deeper into his chest.

“It’s okay, you have all the time in the world.”

He lied, but it wouldn’t make any difference now, and urging her or even forcing her would violate their agreement, so he kept holding her close to his chest and waited.

There was a knock at the door, and the Great Khan looked up. He eyed the door for a moment, then asked in their own dialect a question and received a muffled reply. You could tell from his tone that he wasn’t really convinced, but the door was opened nonetheless. Standing in the doorway was one of his concubines, who had her hand on Raya’s shoulder and was pushing her forward as they entered the Khan’s chamber. The priestess seemed to be very embarrassed, for she had her gaze fixed sternly on the floor and her ears pressed tightly back against her head. The mighty tiger briefly sized up the young priestess and then exchanged a few words with his concubine, after which he burst into hearty laughter. Shirya drew closer to him, startled by the Khan’s unexpected, loud outburst, though he immediately composed himself and pulled her tighter against him.

“Sorry… but it was just too hilarious.”

He whispered, glancing back at the two newcomers who were slowly approaching his bed. Now he could also see the glint between Raya’s thighs and smiled. It didn’t bother him that his subjects were lost in such thoughts; on the contrary, it spurred him on to continue serving as a role model for his tribe.

Meanwhile, his concubine gestured to Shirya, who continued to cling tightly to him, burying her face in his chest. After a brief exchange, she approached the two of them, knelt beside the young herbivore, and embraced her as well.

“There is no shame in being afraid of death.”

Whispered the tigress, stroking the tapir’s back.

“Even the mightiest warriors fear facing their ancestors, for fear of having failed in life or brought shame upon themselves.”

She continued calmly and lovingly.

“Look at me, child.”

She gently urged, carefully cradling the young woman’s head in her large, strong paws before gently turning it toward her. With swollen eyes and a face completely contorted with pain, Shirya looked up at her.

“You have nothing to blame yourself for; you have brought no shame upon yourself. On the contrary, you have shown great courage, and the decision to sacrifice your life for that of hundreds of others of your kind is more than noble. Your ancestors will greatly honor this. You have nothing to fear.”

Gently, the concubine wiped the tears from Shirya’s cheeks and stroked her head.

“You have been so brave up to now; few have walked this path as gracefully as you have. Don’t let your head hang low now.”

The tigress urged her, but Shirya did not move; only her eyes shifted back and forth between Raya, who still stood behind the concubine with her head bowed, and the concubine herself. She didn’t know how to react to what had been said; it was too bizarre, and she couldn’t share the Khan’s mistress’s view. For her, there was no glory in death, only the end of a life that was still far too young.

The concubine leaned forward and gently pressed her forehead against Shirya’s, leaving it there for a moment before sitting back on her heels.

“Don’t be afraid; you won’t walk the rest of the way alone. Rayas here will accompany you to the end. Be brave and walk with your head held high; show everyone how strong you are.”

She finally concluded, and Shira’s lips trembled, but she did not reply. The tigress nodded slowly and then looked over her shoulder at Rayas, who was now approaching. The Great Khan stroked her back again before leaning back slightly so he could look her in the eyes more clearly. While her eyes trembled and openly betrayed her uncertainty, his eyes held calm and strength; his gaze was serious yet loving, like that of a father sending his child to bed, and when he finally spoke, his voice was full of warmth:

“It is time, Shirya, Limas’s daughter. Go with Rayas; your destiny awaits you.”

It wasn’t easy for him to lie to her so blatantly how could it be the destiny of a young, healthy, fertile animal to end up on the slaughter block? but it was too late; there was no way out now.

Shirya hesitated, sniffled once more, and swallowed hard, but then she finally nodded. Slowly, trembling, she pushed herself off his lap, and as she stood before him, she swayed slightly. Rayas stood behind her and held her steady so she wouldn’t simply collapse. Then the Great Khan and his concubine rose slowly, and as they stood before her, she embraced the leader of the tigers once more.

Rank and status no longer mattered, and so the mighty Tiger returned the embrace tenderly. He held her for a moment, and it was clearly difficult for him to release his grip, but he would be strong for his clan, for the pact, and for Shirya as well.

When he released her from the embrace, she turned wordlessly and walked toward the door, followed by Rayas.

Once they had left and he was alone with his concubine, she looked at him.

“Please tell me it won’t be like this every time.”

She pleaded, sounding exhausted, whereupon the Khan shook his head and looked toward the door.

“No. I will speak with the community. It cannot be this way; that was not the spirit of the agreement. Of course, my ancestors said that only those who walk the path of their own free will should come, and no one should be forced, but it had been intended from the beginning that the elderly and the sick should walk the path of all flesh.”

He stated, looking at his hand, which bore Shirya’s bite mark.

“I will restore the spirit of the agreement!”

Shirya and Rayas walked silently back along the path they had taken not long ago.

The farther they moved away from the Khan’s chambers, the brighter the temple became again, and by the time they passed the chamber where the tributes were waiting for the ceremony, it was already nearly empty. It was happening frighteningly fast.

“Don’t look over there.”

Whispered the priestess, trying to lead her back to their preparation room more quickly. Shirya offered no resistance; she seemed strangely apathetic and detached. A state Rayas knew well it was the body’s coping mechanism for dealing with overwhelming stress.

When they finally arrived in their small, quiet chamber and closed the door behind them, it was almost as if they had shut the world out. Absolute silence reigned in the small room, and the scent of incense and herbs now seemed much more intense to Shirya than it had earlier; moreover, now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, the room appeared very bright to her. She looked around, but everything was still just as she remembered it.

Rayas had gone ahead and was already waiting for her again in the small basin, holding out her hand.

“Come, we’ll cleanse you once more.”

She seemed to be forcing herself to stay calm, but her excitement was clearly palpable. The tapir hesitantly took her hand and let herself be helped into the small pool, where she as before sat down on the small stone to let the priestess wash her. She took her time and washed away all the tears, sweat, and saliva, the spilled blood, and the semen from her tribute’s body, but the fear remained. This time, the ritual washing did not help to calm her spirit and grant her peace.

When the tigress was finished, she led Shirya back to the stone table, where she once again began to anoint the tapir with the blessed oils, but before she could really get started, the young woman reached for Raya’s hand and looked at her imploringly.

“How… how much longer do I have to wait until…”

She swallowed hard, and her voice failed her before she could finish the sentence. Raya then took her hand and squeezed it gently.

“You won’t have to. As soon as we’re done here, we’ll go to the ritual chamber. You won’t have to suffer any longer.”

The priestess assured her, and Shirya smiled faintly. She was afraid, but she was also glad that it would happen quickly and she wouldn’t have to wait much longer for the ritual. Rayas worked quickly but thoroughly, anointing the young herbivore’s body with the oils and then drawing the runes that marked Shirya as an sacrifice to the community and were meant to grant her free passage to the afterlife. Already, the tapir could feel the effects of the drugs again and drifted into a weightless, drowsy state. Her worries and fears gradually fell away, and a certain euphoria began to take hold.

Soon the anointing was finished, and Rayas set her on the table to begin the ritual binding. Calmly, she explained to Shirya why she was being bound, that it was for her own safety, and that she had nothing to fear. She tied her arms and hands together behind her back with an artfully braided ribbon and wrapped additional ribbons around her legs and waist. In fact, this binding wasn’t painful, and the ribbons were pretty; Shirya noted that while red and yellow weren’t her colors, she still found the patterns beautiful. If the whole situation hadn’t been so tense, Rayas would probably have laughed out loud and looked for other colors, but as it was, she merely nodded at the comment and helped her protégé down from the table.

She led Shirya out of the room and past the other preparation chambers to a large, red portal, in front of which two priestesses were waiting; as they approached, the priestesses opened the portal with a deep bow. Rayas went ahead and stepped through the large double doors, while Shirya slowly followed her. Fortunately, the young herbivore didn’t perceive everything in her trance, for the room into which the tigress had led her was red; however, it wasn’t as though they had ever painted the chamber that color the stone from which the rest of the temple was also built had been soaked with so much blood over the course of many centuries that it had taken on that color. It was dominated by a large stone altar in the center of the room, from which the last tribute was just being carefully lifted onto a stretcher and then carried outside through a side door. Behind the altar stood a massive priest, his upper body completely shaved and his skin blackened with soot. His face was hidden behind a white skull mask made of lime. His massive, muscle-bound body was covered in countless small scars, and his arms were adorned with rows of fresh cuts.

At that moment, he added another cut and muttered something unintelligible before looking over at Raya and her protégé. His eyes looked exhausted and sad behind the mask, but he nodded to the priestess and greeted her and her tribute with the respect they deserved. The tigress returned the greeting and stepped closer. Without a word, she turned to Shirya, and she, too, approached the altar.

“Welcome, child of the jungle; at the end of your journey, you shall pass into the afterlife without suffering or torment.”

The priest greeted his next victim and spread his hands over the blood-soaked altar. He sounded exhausted but benevolent, like a shepherd leading his flock into the stable at evening.

“Lie down and receive peace.”

He added, and Rayas helped Shirya lie down on the altar, placing her bound arms into a pre-formed hollow.

“Close your eyes and take a deep breath.”

The priest urged softly.

As Shirya closed her eyes, the last thing she saw was Rayas placing her hands on her cheek and stroking it tenderly.

Then she took a deep breath.

...

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El Poyo Diabolo

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El Poyo Diabolo

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