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Somehow, despite everything, Prince Kwame found himself falling into a routine of sorts. His days, for what they were worth, were spent rather leisurely. As the 'hostage' of the Chief, the only things that seemed to be expected of him was that he remain in sight of at least someone but otherwise, he was free to do as he wanted about the camp. There wasn't a lot for him to do, admittedly - in his own camps, he would attend meetings with the commanding officers, discuss patrols, any number of administrative things. As a hostage? He doubted they'd let him into the meeting even if he wanted to.

Which was why on day seven of his new life as a hostage to the Tribe, he was currently just lounging in their bed, pondering how things had gotten to this point. He'd railed against it internally, of course, swore to himself that despite everything - despite the submission, the... pleasure - he wouldn't give in to Ganya, that he'd find a way to get free of the situation he'd found himself trapped in, and yet...

He couldn't put his claw on whether his resolve had just given up, whether it had slowly eroded over time or whether he had never had any resolve at all and it had all just been a hollow, paper-thin structure that collapsed the moment Ganya touched him. But he knew for certain what had happened when he lay in their bed, waiting for Ganya to come and found himself not so much dreading his arrival but... looking forward to it.

The Chief had been true to his word (not that he had ever given Kwame any reason to doubt him, outside of perhaps being his enemy), and he never initiated anything beyond some light touches and teasing remarks unless Kwame consented... although the Prince was ashamed to admit he had yet to refuse the Chief. At first, perhaps, he put up some resistance, but every time he remembered the feeling of being taken, of the warmth of Ganya's body against his and the feeling of being filled...

... well, Ganya hadn't needed to ask the past few nights.

Was he really willing to surrender so completely now? Or had he just surrendered already without even realising it? The thoughts swam in his mind in circles until he let out a groan of dismay and pulled the furs over his head.

... it smells like him, he realised idly. It should hardly be surprising though - of course Ganya's bedding would smell of him. It'd be more surprising if it didn't. He didn't hate it though, and that was the surprise. There was an earthy scent, that brought to mind the rich soil of freshly tilled land, and the almost pervasive smell of his sweat that made him think of the farmers he sometimes spoke with on his patrols.

It made him feel... safe. Just surrounding himself with the furs made him think of Ganya's arm around him, the hyena's bulky presence at his back and his hot breath washing over the back of his neck... and the wandering hands that often followed. He was not proud to admit that he shivered slightly. He could almost feel the fingers trailing down his back, feel him pressing down on him... He could barely bring himself to feel even an obligatory amount of shame at the way his imagination made him writhe in place, a hand trailing down to the tent that was forming in his apron.

"Are you alright, Prince Kwame?"

The soft voice startled him out of his daydream, and the Prince nearly leapt entirely out of the pile of furs he was buried in, and he came face to face with the concerned expression of Ganya's main attendant. "I'm fine," he muttered quietly, feeling shame burning at him for being caught off guard so easily, "I was just.... Tired." It was a feeble excuse, and he didn't doubt the attendant could tell. "... I don't believe I ever got your name."

"I am called Tandeko," the attendant said, the faintest hint of amusement on his otherwise calm and submissive face, "And you are not very good at telling lies, Prince."

Kwame flushed, his ears flicking gently as he turned away. He still had some shame as a Prince... although, he had to admit, it was beginning to fade. "... How long will Ganya be?" he murmured, trying not to sound as eager to hear the answer as he was feeling.

"Chief Ganya will be busy for the day, Prince. He will return to you at dusk." Tandeko paused softly. "If the Prince is feeling restless, perhaps I can be of service?"

He was halfway to asking what Tandeko could do to help as his options seemed to be 'walk around or lounge around' when the svelte hyena slipped towards him, sinking to his knees in a fluid and well practiced movement, and even if his mind has not caught up with reality, his body certainly knows the meaning of what he is being offered as Tandeko is, seemingly suddenly, settled in between his legs.

Blood rushed to his cheeks in greater force, the blush under his spotted fur matched only by the way his cock surged up, tenting the apron. His bashful reaction only made him feel more self conscious - what had happened to his confidence, that when so clearly propositioned by an attractive partner, his reaction was to blush and lose his tongue?

The amused little smile on Tandeko's face did little to assuage his pride, but the way he began to run a hand along his inner thigh was, if nothing else, quite distracting. He seemed to have come to the conclusion that words were no longer needed, or at least, that his mouth could be put to better uses as he leaned in, nuzzling alongside the side of Kwame's length through the leather of the apron and nudging it aside with his muzzle. Tandeko's gaze never left the Prince's as he gently parted his lips and gave him a slow, languid lick all the way up to his tip.

Kwame's breath hitched, and he raised a hand to stifle his groan. It had been... it felt like it had been an age, since he had felt a lover's mouth upon him like this. Ganya was by no means a selfish lover, but he was the Chief. For him to serve Kwame like this would've been... Kwame cut the thought off there. What mattered was Tandeko was there, looking up at him with a calm gaze, and gently mouthing at the side of his cock with the tender motions of someone who was well trained in the act.

Did he serve Ganya like this as well? Had Kwame taken his place? He almost wanted to ask, but Tandeko cut his thoughts off there as he gently engulfed the head of his shaft in his mouth, swirling his tongue around with a soft hum, sounding distinctly pleased with himself at Kwame's own groan of pleasure.

Any further musing or wondering was stopped then and there as Kwame's thighs tightened around Tandeko's head, firm muscles pressing down on him and surrounding him with the Prince's masculine scent - but he didn't seem at all bothered by the pressure, just continuing the soft, gentle humming as he bobbed his head slowly and patiently. His tongue alternated between lightly wrapping itself around his length as Tandeko pulled back and sliding along, probing and searching, going so far as to slip out past his bottom lip to swipe along Kwame's trembling sack.

"Oh-Oh Gods," the Prince whimpered, his tail coiling around Tandeko's shoulders as though to pull him in but the thin, flexible muscle only served as something of a decoration even as he continued his slow, gentle ministrations. "Fffuck..." It really had been too long since he'd felt the warm, wet heat of a lover's muzzle... and as Tandeko pulled off with a wet pop, it was all Kwame could do not to beg him to continue.

Fortunately for the Prince, Tandeko was merely repositioning himself slightly, nuzzling at the base of his cock, and mouthing over his fuzzy balls, rolling them about with his tongue until they were sodden with his spit. "Am I pleasing you, Prince?" he murmured softly, as though the answer was in any doubt.

"Gods yes," Kwame answered, throwing his head back and groaning loudly as Tandeko rewarded him with a gentle suckle. "Gods, don't stop please, I-"

"Shhh, Prince," Tandeko murmured, "Let me serve you." With his piece spoken, Tandeko's tongue returned to more productive pursuits - he was still focusing on Kwame's sack, not that the Prince had any complaints to offer, but with each lick, he was steadily going lower.

The first time his tongue swiped across Kwame's hole, it drew a surprised - but undeniably pleased - gasp, and Kwame widened his legs. The intrusion was not entirely foreign to him now, enough that he at least knew what Tandeko intended, but he could not bring himself to care all that much even as a thrill of shame rushed through him, carrying with it a thread of burning desire.

The Prince of the Savannah, on his back, legs spread not even for the Chief, but the Chief's attendant... although Tandeko was only using his tongue and not other parts of him. And yet, Kwame wasn't sure he would mind anymore.

The tongue swiped again, lapping gently at the tight ring even as Kwame relaxed it, allowing the gentle prods to shift into deeper probes, moaning wantonly as he felt Tandeko's slick tongue begin to worm into his hole. "Gods yes, Tandeko, Tandeko-fuck, yes, yes, please-" the words spilled from his lips so easily, completely unhindered, and Tandeko was all too happy to oblige him.

The tongue pushed deeper, moved faster - the motions changed and shifted with seemingly every stroke, from the deep probing thrusts of his tongue, to no less firm but swift laps. Tandeko tongue danced, and Kwame was rapidly seeing stars. What finally drove him over the edge though was the hand - its touch was feather light, just a simple, almost imperceptible, stroke but with Kwame so worked up already, it proved all that was necessary for him to finish.

He cried out, his moans of pleasure sweet and high as his cock twitched in Tandeko's gentle fingers, spilling his seed out in great spurts that reached as far as to splatter on Kwame's own face. Tandeko's motions continued, much slower and relaxed, gradually slowing until finally, as Kwame's legs relaxed, he drew himself up.

He looked like an angel in that moment, haloed by the dim light of the setting sun as it peeked through flaps of the tent, his gentle expression soft and kind and for a moment, Kwame could only think as to how beautiful he looked. "I am glad I could be of service to you, Prince," he murmured, rubbing a soothing hand along Kwame's thigh.

"Y-yeah..." Kwame breathed out, not entirely sure how else to respond to that statement. His gaze tracked lower, down Tandeko's lightly toned chest and soft stomach fur to the tent in his own apron, and before he could really think on what he was doing, he was shifting around, and pulling him closer with a hand.

"Prince...?" Tandeko murmured, faintly surprised.

Kwame was perhaps just as surprised, but he continued with his impulsive course. "Let me," he murmured back, tugging the leather to the side. Tandeko was nowhere near as endowed as Ganya was, and his shaft was sleek and almost elegant. It suits him, he thought lightly, even as he leaned forward and swallowed it down to the base, feeling the tip just pushing up against the back of his throat.

Tandeko let out a surprised groan, and Kwame could see his legs quiver slightly at the unexpected sensation. There was a sense of nervousness to him now, one Kwame himself could empathise with - it was the motions of someone who had never been in this kind of situation and had no idea what to do, or how to proceed. So Kwame just did what everyone else seemed to be doing to him when he showed those signs, and just gently urged Tandeko to relax with a hand, pulling back with a slurping noise.

"Lie down," he told him, and almost immediately, Tandeko obeyed - and as he obeyed, there was a sense of relaxation to him, as though the very act of being instructed soothed the anxieties. Kwame shifted with him, resting atop one of his thighs as he leaned over to resume his earlier task, slipping his mouth easily over his cock once again.

The taste was very similar to Ganya's, but it almost... lighter. Sweeter, even. It was surprisingly enjoyable, although Kwame doubted he'd mind much if it wasn't. He listened to the soft, sweet little moans Tandeko made as he mimicked the same techniques and ministrations the hyena had demonstrated for him just earlier, and after a moment, he let his tongue lap across a pair of his fingers to slide them down.

Tandeko moaned louder, hips wriggling as he pushed the digits in and Kwame was not at all surprised to find that the svelte hyena's hole yielded easily to the intrusion, and soon, he had him bucking into his mouth every time his fingers brushed up against the small, firm little spot inside of him.

"Prince, I'm-I-" There was a certain kind of pride and pleasure Kwame took in how quickly he had brought Tandeko to climax, although some small niggling part of him was still in shock at being proud of it. Nonetheless, he intensified his sucking as he buried his fingers in, pressing down firmly.

He was rewarded with the sweetest moan he had ever heard a lover make, keening and desperate to the point of being more of a whine than a moan. Spurts of milky seed filled his mouth, and he let them rest in his gullet, swishing it around with his tongue. Definitely lighter than Ganya's, he mused. He waited for Tandeko to relax bonelessly into the furs before he pulled off, gulping his load down with an audible noise.

If Tandeko had looked beautiful before, haloed by the light with that beatific expression, he looked beyond delectable trembling on the bed of furs, dripping with sweat and writhing gently - but the light behind him turned to shadow as he took in the sight, and he turned to find Ganya looking down at both of them.

For a moment, Kwame feared he might have made a mistake, but the expression on his face was far from furious. If anything, he seemed amused... and by now, Kwame knew well enough to recognise the signs of lust.

"Couldn't wait, Prince?" he purred, and there was definite amusement now even as his hands moved to begin undoing the thin rope that held his loincloth together, "I don't mind having company if you don't."

Kwame swallowed as he found himself face to face with the tip of Ganya's spear. Perhaps it was a mistake...