FSE

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Whoa, a normal M/F story by me? Have I gone soft in my young days? Maybe. I think it's an expression of my loneliness and my longing for someone. Or whatever.

Warning: This story contains nothing bad, except maybe teen sex. Who can't stand that should scamper away now.

Also, I would like to take suggestions for the next chapter. Help me on that one!

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For decades the Wolven and the Foxen tribes at the coast had been at a quiet war. Both lived off the fish in the sea, the herds of goat they owned, and the fruits they found in they areas. They could live well, yet they were sworn enemies, not afraid to throw stones and spears when they saw a member of the other tribe at the horizon.

Even the elder of both tribes were too young to remember how it begun, but all of them very more than sure the other one had provoked them. The Wolven has stolen the most precious goat of the Foxen, the foxes claimed. The Wolven, however, knew for a fact the Foxen had broken into their herding range and killed a herding dog for no reason.

Nevertheless, they were never openly fighting, but telling their kits and pups the stories of battles that never happened, and tales of incidents that filled the young hearts with fear and hatred at once.

Foxen were a thieving and tricky folk, never missing an opportunity to snatch innocent pups and trick them into grave danger. But the Wolven were aggressive beings, not hesitating to eat kits to earn the strength of the Foxen tribe, of which they were surely envious.

The land was big enough for both, so it was not always for the worst. Those tales made the children attentive when they travelled the land. It made them attentive when herding the goats.

But one season, a drought went through the lands. The first Scourge, as they knew it later, forced the tribes to move closer, in the end to use the same water holes. And they shrunk, day by day. Foxen were afraid their goats would die of thirst before the first rain, and it would only be the Wolven's fault. They were greedy, letting their goats drink more than necessary.

Both accused each other of being insatiable, of trying to starve the other side. Their children and young adults shouted and yelled at the others, making threats no kid should know.

And then there was the day of the first stone. A Wolven pup was found, head cracked open by a stone. Surely thrown by a wretched Foxen kit. The war was going to break out. Dozens of people were to die.

But, on the very same day, Kaya was born. Her birth and the prior days were a collections of signs of all sorts. The dead Wolven boy, a falling star, clouds on the sky. But there were more. As Kaya was born, nobody knew her father. Her mother died in labour. And her fur was white. White like a cloud. A proof of divine heritage.

The Foxen were sure to be chosen by the Gods, as Kaya had been born among them. They showed the newborn kit to the Wolven. Her way was clear from the very day she had been born. Kaya would be a priestess one day, a spiritual leader.

Wolven admitted it would be pointless to fight a tribe chosen by the Gods. Yet they were too proud to bow to the Foxen, who were smaller and weaker than any wolf. There Kaya giggled, and her giggle turned into a thunder, a long growl, taking minutes. Rain fell on the dry land.

The tribes decided for a truce. Kaya had slain the Scourge. The tribes celebrated for days. Then they joined their herds and decided, no Foxen or Wolven should ever hate the other one. Kaya would lead them into a new age of peace.

Kaya grew up with that burden. She grew up as an orphan, treated like royalty, yet an outcast among the kits and pups. They would not let her hunt, or herd, or fish. They made her learn to communicate with the Gods.

As she was about ten, the Second Scourge came over the tribes. The joined herd was befallen by an unknown disease, an illness weakening the nannies, billies, and killing the newborn. Old hatred found its way back into the hearts and soon they accused each other, it had been the other one's herd infecting the others.

So Kaya, just ten years old, was expected to bring peace back. She was promoted to a full priestess, a ritual taking several days. At first, she had to find a long list of herbs and flowers, many of them rare and all of them poisonous. She had to make it a painting, a painting for her body.

Every priest and priestess had to paint her body in a unique way. She had to do it all alone. And she had to endure the next days all alone. Leaving her hut would have been a very bad sign, bringing bad luck to her and her tribe.

The paint not only dyed her fur. It coloured her permanently. The fumes lead to strong and weird hallucinations. And there was a pain. The colour burnt into her skin to change her appearance forever.

Of course the others were worried about the screams they heard from the shed. Often they wanted to forget the rules and look after Kaya, the chosen one. But this ceremony was Kaya's only chance to become a priestess.

Days later, she stepped outside, into the light of a day. Her white fur showed a red painting, curly, thick lines. It looked as if she had painted the very spirit of the holy fire onto herself. The others were quite impressed. Forever now she would be known as Kaya, Fire of the Coast.

Usually the paint turned the brown vulpine fur into a black colour. But not the white fur of Kaya. Naked she stood in the midday sun, her people gathered, waiting for her to say something. They hoped it would be words of wisdom. Her predecessor had claimed to be a golden crab for several months, a side effect of the fumes and the hunger.

But instead she said: "I've seen the medical treatment for our herds."

Happiness spread among the Foxen and the Wolven. And Kaya continued: "Separate the weak from the strong. Lead them there." She pointed to the west. "Let them graze there and they will become strong again."

She had seen why the goats died. The herd had grown big and the tribe had become lazy, not moving it around as much. The goats ate the grass, but soon only the strange weeds were left. In their hunger, they started to eat what they should not eat.

Kaya had separated the herds several times and made them graze on different patches each month. The foxes and wolves considered it a godly inspiration, and Kaya let them believe what they wanted to believe. But actually, she just had had time to think about it. Well, after the almost unbearable pain had faded.

Still a kit, Kaya accepted her destined path to be the spiritual leader of the two tribes. From that day on, people listened to her every word, showing respect, yet a bit of fear. Rumours spread, she could give you diseases and curse you when you annoyed her. So she grew and was even more isolated.

The little girl became a young woman. At the age of fifteen, Kaya had grown used to all the duties of a priestess. Blessing children and goats, listening to the little worries of her people, comforting them individually and generally. A boring day-job for a chosen one.

Often she sat at the beach, away from the village, staring at the infinite sea. She had no longings, however, but she felt closer to the only kind of beings that were at her level. The Gods, she felt, were never afraid of her and did not just be with her if they wanted her to help them.

Since there was nobody to teach her being a god-sent priestess, she had to teach herself. At least, that part appealed to her. Kaya found it fun to experiment with about anything. She went off to the woods from time to time, sometimes not returning for days.

Once she had found some mushrooms behind a root. As always, she had been setting off unprepared. All she carried with her usually was a spear, and she was well aware of the village men sneering at her. With her small loincloth, the lack of distinct female features and the spear, she looked like a Lohari, a feminine boy.

But she was priestess. Just a sharp look make them stop laughing and cupping their groin. She herself sneered at their childish belief she could make their penises drop off with just a peek. Not that she would ever correct it, anyway.

So Kaya had found them, hungry. And she ate them, like they were, raw, form the ground of the woods. She never remembered what had happened afterwards. All she knew was she woke up, exhausted and knackered, without her loincloth, her crotch wet, as well as both her paws. She had returned to the village then, naked, but with some mushrooms. They grew well in her hut.

Of course there were rituals. Ever since she had been little, her life was made of rituals. Once a year, there was the Ritual of the Sea, which she secretly hated. Since she had been six years of age, she had to perform it on a date carefully calculated with sun and moon.

It got easier over the years, but annoying nevertheless. She had to stand there, on the morning, without clothes, without jewellery, as she had been born, and she had to catch a fish. What was annoying that both the tribes, the Foxen and the Wolven, were assembled there, on the beach, silently staring.

Kaya was to catch a fish with her bare paws. If she did not, it meant bad luck for the entire next year. That included spoilt harvests, sick goats, no fish, and so on and so forth. So... no pressure there, right? She loathed it. And they all stared at her tail. She could hear the laughter they suppressed when she slipped.

But up to now, she ever had managed it. Somehow. There were tricks. For example long claws you can dig into a fish. Otherwise it was impossible.

There were rituals she liked more. As the village's priestess and the Chosen, she never had any way of living like a normal girl. While other girls sat together, talking about boys and babies, she sat alone at the beach. While they found boys to wed, she was isolated in her hut. Moreover, as if the gods wanted to show her she was different, she had to watch them develop hips and breasts, grow from little girls to adult women. And she herself seemed to have stalled, stuck in the body of a little girl.

And the boys were but afraid of her. Whenever she tried to talk to them, they started stuttering. They avoided her. She saw them swimming at the coast, so she came over, sat down and watched them, but within minutes, they were gone. She was a growing girl, and something else was growing in her.

As she grew older, she learned the more... delicate rituals. There was, for one, the Night of the Goat. It was the night where they boys HAD to be with her. And nobody else. Because it pleased the gods.

She wore a goat mask, made of wood. There was a fire. She was naked and dancing. Only unmarried boys of a certain age could attend. They brought a goat. In dancing, she cuts its throat and covered herself in the blood. She took the spirit of the goat god, Parloah, into her.

But Parloah is not just any god. He is strong and, overall, male. Kaya could not keep the spirit. She continued dancing, in sudden, weird movements. Until she charged.

Kaya chose a boy, at random. A young wolf, she had seen him once or twice. Cocky, usually, now he seemed frightful. She grabbed him by the wrist and started to dance a bit with him. Shyly, the boy tried to get away, but he was spun by Kaya.

She pressed his body close against hers. His fur caught the goat's blood. The next part was not actually required, but nobody knew that. The boys chuckled and laughed as she pushed the wolven one over, like a sack of rice.

It did not take long to make his penis stiffen. Kaya was aware all the boys stared, and she enjoyed it. Surely, they could not decide if their chosen comrade was poor or lucky. Some of them quickly hid their own erections from the others.

She moaned under her mask as she lowered her crotch over the boy's hard member. The wolves were bigger than the foxes, in more than one manner. In the light if the night, in the dim light of the fire, with her mask, she really must look like the spirit of some god. That was maybe because the boy protested so little â€" he had sex with a goddess, not Kaya.

Kaya moved up and down slowly, back and forwards, her paws pressing onto the boy's chest. He started to enjoy it, or at least giving in to the pleasure. Kaya herself was rather enjoying the hot male meat rubbing her insides, loving the waves pleasure moving up from her crotch, up her body, to her brain.

She was a quiet girl when it came to sex. She hardly did more than some moans and a loud grunt at the climax. As the orgasmed, he dug her claws into the boy's chest, marking him for days. He was much louder, letting out a loud groan as he filled her with his boy milk.

Panting she got up, her crotch dribbling from both her and the boy's juices. All the boys, including the one on the ground, stared at her. She stood there, semen slowly falling down into the sand. The put a finger into her vagina, pulled it out and wiped it on the next boy's forehead. Then she lifted the mask.

That broke the spell. She stopped being a goat goddess and returned to being Kaya, the weird girl that could make your penis fall off with just a word. The ritual was over.

"Boo!" Kaya exclaimed. The boys scampered away, including the one she had had sex with. She knew they would run up the hill, to the village. None of them would ever tell anyone what had happened. Just the wolf boy, he had all the goat blood in his fur. He would be seen as lucky. And for sure, the girls would suddenly be very interested in him.

Kaya threw the mask into the fire. It was useless now, drained of the spirit it had contained. It had taken her three days to make it, just for this purpose. It pleased the gods, they got a goat's soul in exchange for a little bit of their strength.

She went into the water of the sea, to wash off the blood and the semen. Actually, she did not envy the other girls as much. After all, their sex was with many strings attached. They had to keep it secret if they had slept with a boy, otherwise they would have to marry him. And, as far as she knew, if a girl slept with a boy once, he suddenly expected there to be more of that.

But Kaya, in her priestessness, would never marry. As she swam out, some men appeared and carried the dead goat away, to turn it into a meal. A bowl would mysteriously appear before her hut, later on.

These were the rituals she liked. She quite disliked giving blessings. Often women would appear at her door, nervously require her to bless someone or something. It was amazing what they wanted to have blessed. Pups and kits, cooking items, tools, furniture... one vixen wanted to have her womb blessed, for it would only ever bear male kits.

Also there was a nice ritual where she even was required to have sex. In many, she re-interpreted the requirements to get some of that. She liked it, but not too often. Kaya was not the kind of girl who would submit herself to a boy. In fact, she ever thought of males being there to provide a service, to her or anyone.

When a boy turned fourteen, in both tribes, they had to prove their fertility. And those occasions were a nice way to get in touch with them for Kaya. It went like this: They had a party. And when the sun had set, Kaya suddenly appeared, took the boy's arm and pulled him gently into her home, usually accompanied by the cheers and whistles of about anyone else.

It was not important that they boy was virgin. And there were several types of them. Actually, many were shy, standing there as if they were about to get shouted at. She pulled his loincloth off, revealing his penis. Sometimes it was difficult to get them hard, but she always managed.

This time, she knelt in front of him and licked it. As he never expected that, he clenched his eyes and moaned. Kaya took it into her muzzle and felt it fill with blood. Within seconds, he was hard and throbbing in his mouth.

"I'll let you take charge," she whispered. "My brave hero." Giggling, she led him to her mattress, where she lay down on her back.

And he really took over. She had developed an eye for boys. Almost anyone was shy at first, but there were those who would needed to be pushed over and those who would push her over. This one was a bit in between. The worst she ever had had been some cocky wolf who was hard before he came in, made to go on all fours and was done within one minute. She couldn't have that.

The boy wanted to cup one of her breasts, but there was nothing much to cup. So he settled for kissing them, playing with her nipples. She was amazed and surprised, no boy had ever paid attention to her chest before. And she decided that she had missed nothing.

Kaya wanted his boy cock. She told him so, worldlessly. She wrapped her legs around his hips, made him come closer. They moaned together as he entered her wet and needy vagina, going in as deep as possible. They took a moment to look at each other in the dim light. There was something in his eyes...

Kaya felt a hot wave running through her, like never before, as he pulled out a bit and pushed into her. It was not a thrust, it was rather gently. She closed her eyes and let herself dissolve within the emotions he gave her.

The priestess dig her fingers into the fur on his back. She moaned out her passion. With her closed eyes, she saw every one of his thrusts as a rolling lighting of pleasure, striking her brain. And he just went on, steadily. She moaned louder, getting closer to her climax.

They came together. The very moment he grunted and made his milk shoot into her, she reached her climax, for the first time ever, screaming it out. He did not pull out immediately. She twitched as he did, more waves of pure pleasure rolling through her.

So she lay there, for minutes, panting and smiling. He smiled back. They kept like that, until he scratched the back of her head. "Uh... maybe you should... tell them now? If you were pleased?"

She stood up. Her legs were shaky, she had trouble working straight. Before she went out, she went to him and gave him a long, passionate kiss on the lips. She felt like she needed it. Then she went out of the hut, the boy following.

There she grinned, like always. She put her paw between her legs and then lifted it up, so everyone could see the sticky stuff between her fingers. "He's a man," she said, loudly. And the party could go on.

Before she retreated, she stared at the boy return to the fire. There he would brag about how he had fucked the priestess and how ruthless he'd been doing it. But actually, he had been the most gently and pleasing boy she ever had.

Kaya returned to bed. She still had his smell on her and his semen inside her. She lay down on her back and closed her eyes. Her paw found its way all alone, and she started entering herself, dreaming of a boy she could not remember the name...