Rite of Passage
Insert generic age, preferences, etc. statement here.
Just a little quickie that I started yesterday and finished today. I beg of you to leave a comment, because it makes this lion's heart warm on the inside when he gets them, good or bad, because he can use them. Ratings are nice, but comments are nicer. Enjoy!
He was surrounded.
The pitiful fox was surrounded by larger, much more physically fit furs. But it had to be done. Otherwise, he could never progress in this society he found himself in.
It had only been days since the plane crashed. Since he was abandoned. Since he was left for dead, only to wake up on an unfamiliar beach with the life rafts from the aircraft gone. Since he first found a lone tribesman. Since he was captured and educated. Since he decided to give up on being rescued and assimilate himself into this society.
At least, it only seemed like days. In actuality, it had been 365. Exactly.
But the number did not matter. All that mattered was that he was almost ready. Almost ready to join them and become a part of the tribal body and learn their true ways.
The fox wasn't muscular in any sort of sense. He was quite thin, gangly, and somewhat tall for his species, his fur blending from a dull red to the pure white of his belly. Before the crash, he would wear collared shirts to look less skinny. Now, however, he was clothed in a simple loincloth and bodypaints on his chest and face to enhance the situation. During preparation, one of the females smeared the juice of a berry native to the island that acted as an aphrodisiac, and a potent one at that. Almost with perfect timing, the scent was now taking effect. The fox's loincloth was almost unnecessary, as everyone around him could easily see his 8-inch length at full growth.
But he couldn't help it. It was too late. He had come too far. None of the females were there. None of the children were there. Only the males, and all of them wore similar bodypaint and loincloths to his own, though there was not a fox among them. All were wolves of varying colors. White, brown, grey, all had some representation. Not only that, but they all were at least twice the size of the pitiful fox in the center of the circle.
Then, one stepped forward. A large grey one, covered from head to foot in specific paints designed only for him. This was their leader, as best the fox could guess. This gangly, skinny vulpine knew one thing of the gigantic wolf: He must submit to him. The wolf stepped closer and closer, reaching a paw down to his loincloth, removing it.
It had begun.
The fox quivered slightly as the leader came mere inches from him, nodding and placing a paw on his shoulder, exerting enough force to bring the fox to his knees. Slowly, the fox sank down, now at eye level with the wolf's member, and lifted his paws upward to the bare sheath and scrotum of the wolf, one paw for each. He inhaled the musk of the wolf's genitals, the scent mingling with the berry paste so close to his nostrils. He knelt there, frozen in part-fear and part-anxiety, all the while not knowing that the more he stayed, the more he became attracted to this leader.
The musk, while already containing pheromones, was mixing with the intoxicating effects of the aphrodisiac, slowly telling his brain that this scent excited him. Slowly, this became true. The fox continued to stare at the wolf's crotch, utterly fascinated by it. The wolves in the circle watched as well, not at their leader's shaft, but their so-called victim's. It was already fully erect, and they kept their eyes glued to it, waiting with baited breath.
Then, the fox acted. He started to cup the leader's sac, sifting the balls through his fingers gently and sensually, his other paw rubbing the alpha male's sheath from base to tip excitedly. Slowly, as the leader let out a satisfied sigh, his member poked out of his sheath, hardening before the fox's excited eyes. The vulpine took this wonderful opportunity to give the entire length a slow and wonderful lick from base to tip, murring deeply at the taste of his leader's cock. His own shaft was throbbing below where all of the action took place.
Yet all of the others kept gazing at the fox's member. It was smaller, and thinner, but it never failed to keep their attention.
The leader smiled and reached his paw down to caress the fox's head, encouraging him to continue and letting him know that all was going according to tradition. The fox felt a sort of sudden pleasure from feeling his leader touch his face so fondly, and felt that the time was right to take the tip of the shaft into his muzzle. He opened his jaw and slowly let it slide in, tasting exactly what he needed. Murring a little louder, he took more and more into his mouth until he found his nose in the middle of the wolf's pubic fur. He didn't mind, of course. In fact, he inhaled deeply and found himself even more attracted to the leader because of it.
Then it happened. The first bead of pre had formed on the fox's aroused member, and it had slowly slid down the length until it reached the base, and dripped onto the ground.
This had been what the others were waiting for. Instantly, they circled inward and invaded nearly all of the victim's personal space. He didn't care anymore, though. He was so focused on pleasuring his leader's member that he barely noticed them surround him. One of the other wolves had already been stroking himself while watching, and had positioned himself at the fox's rear, and already had himself a fraction of an inch inside his tailhole, moaning softly. Another one slid under the fox, quickly taking the smaller member into his muzzle and sucking happily on it.
The fox was suddenly overflowed with amazing feelings and sensations. His mind became clouded, and his brain related this feeling to complete bliss thanks to the berry paste. His mind was hopelessly changed forever. He now understood this to be pure happiness.
He returned to the moment and began to bob quickly back and forth on the leader's shaft while more and more of the other wolf's shaft penetrated him. Then, suddenly, he was filled by the lower-standing wolf and felt his rear emptied and abandoned, only to be filled by another large wolfcock.
And so it continued. The fox kept sucking and bobbing on the leader's member while all of the others had their way with his tailhole and his shaft. After a while, he realized that he had already climaxed one, two, three, four times into one of the other wolves' mouths, and that some of them had rimmed him instead of penetrating him. It was almost as if they were establishing him as their equal.
Suddenly, the leader let out a loud grunt, and all of the others backed away, forming the same circle again. The fox put his full attention back on the leader's magnificent cock, letting his tongue caress the underside as his paws worked on his sac. He could feel the pre leaking into his mouth, and spread it over his lips for better lubrication. The leader continued to grunt and moan loudly.
Then, he thrust his shaft into the fox's maw, hilting it as he erupted, spraying his seed into the vulpine's mouth and down his throat. At that exact moment of being filled from his mourh, the fox climaxed once more, still bobbing as the flow of seed from the alpha's member faded.
The fox leaned back and collapsed on the ground, the leader kneeling down and stroking the spent vulpine's chin. He spoke, and the fox recognized the words, not English (his native language), but the words of the island, yet he knew instantly what he was saying. "You have done well, good son. Welcome to the tribe." He smiled warmly, looking into the new tribesman's eyes, still stroking his chin.
Trembling, the fox gave a meek reply, in the same dialect that the wolf used to address him, "Thank you sir...I am very happy..." And with that, he slipped into a blissful sleep, dreaming of the wolves in his tribe and finally becoming a part of this new society.
The lion blinked awake, looking up and around his new surroundings. "Awww...shit."
He was laying on a beach, the wreckage of a small jetliner a few hundred feet away from him, the rafts gone. Behind him was a lush forest, and farther back was a large mountain, possibly a volcano.
He stood up and took in his surroundings, "Boy...I'm screwed." The feline let out an exasperated sigh and trudged up toward the forest, "Better gather some firewood...good thing I watch 'survivor...'"
Then, a snap of a twig, and the golden-furred lion whipped around to find the source of the sound. But there was nothing. He casually turned back to his original direction to find himself face-to-face with, and only a few feet away from a tall, lanky red and white fox covered in tribal paint and clothed only in a loincloth.
For a moment, they just stood there, eyes transfixed on each other. Then, the fox lifted a small blowgun to his mouth and aimed for the lion's neck.
The lion was unconscious before he hit the ground.