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*Week 2, Day 10: *

Oh God... I stated earlier that I have had some lovers in the past and that I am no stranger to the intimacy of sex. But when I awoke this morning, I was all sorts of sore. The events of the previous day all came to me in a congealed state, causing me to almost jump awake at the thought of what awaited me today. There was going to be more. A lot more. I will not lie that when I awoke I was already partially aroused, wet even. My dreams were a mess. The one that left me with a sense of unease was what would happen if I went back to human lands and went into labor with a furre child. God, that scares me, but not for myself, but for the baby...

God, I am already thinking on terms of having a child. But that is why I am in the position I am in. I would not be surprised if the patrons that funded this expedition might of expected this end for all of the females on the expedition. Half of Humanity at large believes that furres are just sex driven beasts... Despite the evidence to the contrary. I will admit, when I put my clothes on, which was a sparse collection of a tank top with no bra, a simple pair of underwear and some cargo shorts with my boots and socks, I felt almost dirty, but in a very self fulfilling naughty way. It is almost like what happened yesterday changed me.

Maybe it has...

The morning started off very quickly. A quick meeting of the expedition heads, Victor, Bill and I, along with six more people who served directly under Victor and Bill to make sure their orders towards the rest of the expedition was carried out. I explained what was going to happen. They were passed a discreet comm ear wig each. They were to not panic if they started to hear me grunt, squeal, moan and gasp in pleasure as I was fucked viscerally. Several of them two females in particular went pink at the thought. I mean, if I was in their position, would I want to hear it too? But I might need their expertise. An answer if I was asked about what we expected to do, what we could provide, etc. Victor was even more surly about this whole thing. In part, I can't blame him.

I got out to the tent, as it was left up from yesterday, the sun already a quarter up on the sky and the furre delegation as I would like to call them were already waiting for me. This time there was a bit of a change. The canine from yesterday was absent. The older equine was not. There was a feline, already sitting down, partially aroused I would say he was about my age. Then there was another canine. He was younger than I was. I would say he was almost out of his teens. I already kind of got the thought that he might be a bit too excitable for my 29 year old body. There were two females. One who was what I would assume my grandmother's age, a matronly goat. She was dressed in rather noticeable headdress and beads, her breasts left bare and a partial see-through sarong of sorts wrapped around her hips. And then a female that I would of put at the same age as the canine male. She was interesting. She was dressed up in almost what I would call a priestess' garb. She had a collection of bowls on the floor near the side of the tent, filled with paint.

I would of expected the three males to get to work, but it was clear in the presence of the older female, the females were definitely in charge. It would explain why the males acted the way they did yesterday with the way they fucked me. Here, it was a matriarchal society. A woman's pleasure came first.

The older female spoke up to me, introducing herself as a childhood friend of my grandmother. She was very pleased to know her friend had survived the trip to human lands and she was successful in her mission. My suspicions that my grandmother was always hiding something from me were confirmed. I wonder if she knew that this would happen to her favorite firstborn grandchild. She invited me to go ahead and disrobe, introducing the young shaman who was here to welcome me as a Matriarch of Humanity. I had explained roughly that I was still more or less my grandmother's grandchild and the Matriarch knew this, but since I had been born in human lands with human customs, I was the bridge they were hoping for.

The younger canine's excitability was confirmed as I started taking off my clothes, his arousal becoming quickly evident, his length springing out from it's sheath, but a single stern look from the Matriarch was enough to quell some of his excitement, as he took a step back towards the wall. Kids. The shaman gestured for me to lay down on my back, as she explained that the paints she would draw would be unique to me. They would describe who I represented, my mother and my grandmother, and that I was a Matriarch. Upon closer inspection, I could tell that both the shaman, who I still wasn't quite sure of her species under all of that garb, and the Matriarch herself had similar body paint stained into their fur.

The experience was almost indescribable. The fingers of the shaman were almost ticklish, thick with the paste-like paint that she was applying to my nude body. She started at where my womb was centered. That pale, freckled skin trembled as she drew what appeared to be a cradle, the centerpiece of the markings, before her fingers swept down my mons with their ginger hair, staining both that ginger thatch and the skin beneath, before engulfing my vulva with that paint. Hell, she even took a big dollop of the paint into two fingers and worked it into my sex. That is when my world went strange. It was like the paint was almost drug like. Talking to my furre genetics. My groin suddenly felt like it was on fire, but in an "itch that needed to be scratched" kind of way. The Matriarch calmed and soothed me with her warm words telling me to breathe, this happens the first time. The rest of the painting I was only slightly conscious of, as she marked down my thighs, a different coloring this time, staining my furless skin.

Once my legs were done, she worked her way up from my belly, drawing a intricate web of almost vines up my torso, before working a lattice work of designs into my breasts. The paint swept up to cover almost the front half of my throat, before those hands worked down my shoulders and arms. I only was faintly aware of it ending when I was aware of a warmer, masculine touch at my hips and sides, my eyes opening to see the feline hovering faintly over me. My eyes instinctively looked down at his groin, seeing his length now fully revealed. It wasn't overly impressive for length, as it was almost a cone like glans with five inches of length behind it. But the barbs definitely caught my notice. They were inverted to point towards himself. I wasn't able to inspect it much longer as I was partially lifted from my supine position to start to sit into his lap. My hands caught his shoulders, bracing myself at first. I was afraid of those barbs.

A supportive hand pressed against my back, the shaman again, this time working more paint into the side she couldn't, as the Matriarch told me to relax. With a faint tremble I relaxed into the grip of the feline as he guided my legs to sit to either side of his hips as he brought my slick, paint smeared sex to his cock. That cone slipped in easily, my hands tightening and gripping at his shoulders as he worked me down, letting my weight drive his cock upwards into my sex. my quim pressing against his fussy sheath all too quickly as all six inches of him disappeared into me. My hands gripped almost with a death grip as he started to pull me up by my ass, almost fighting it before I felt those barbs start to pull and drag along the inside of my sex.

How can I describe it? Gals, you ever have a guy suck at your sex? Like really suck at it? Like he is going to halfway pull you inside out and you feel a wave of pleasure from it? Well instead of just that happening from the gates of your sex, it was like he was doing that a hundred times over from the inside out. I half frightened myself with the deep gasp as my sex clenched hard at his cock. It didn't hurt per say. His barbs didn't dig and rip like I was afraid they were. But oh my god. On the second time he sunk into me, I could feel a spurt of his cum. Then half a second later he was pulling me back up. Pull. Clench. Sink. Cum. God, I lost myself to the repetitions. I was literally dripping and oozing a combination of that thick paint that had already almost all the way soaked into my skin and his cum. It lasted almost an hour. I moaned in relief when I came the first time. Sobbed the second. Was literally crying the third. It never ended. It wasn't painful. Just exhausting. After my sixth or seventh orgasm I stopped counting. I felt like I was being reborn.

I almost spasmed in shock when I was left without the feeling of that feline doing that steady tempo. The shaman had by that time finished all of the painting on my back and rear before I was put back down, having gotten up and left. The Matriarch allowed me a refractory time to recover while she softly spoke to me, telling me of how they would like me and others to come into the settlement. Bring two or three other females and a couple of males if they wished. Volunteers. They wanted genetic diversity like any tribal settlement.

All too soon though the break was over and it was the younger canine's turn. He was licking at me like a whirling dervish, I wanted him to slow down a bit, I was still kind of recovering. My insides were still partially on fire from the paint. But instead of the dominating position that the older canine had done yesterday, this one wanted me up on my shoulders and knees. At least he helped turn me over. The next thing I know I am gasping from his incredibly quick mounting. This younger canine was not as long as the one from yesterday, but from this position, his tapered length was poking up against my cervix like before. He was quick. He had a lot to learn. He only brought me to orgasm once. His knot barely held inside of me compared to the one that locked in my hips from before.

The Matriarch chastised him for being too eager. It wasn't like she had beat him, though it was how he almost reacted, begging forgiveness. He was dismissed from the tent. The equine's touch was at my body, as his hands began to massage my aching muscles from before, bringing a groan of relief as he worked his hands down me. As big as he was, I was starting to love this guy. He was so tender yesterday, like he knew his size could literally put me in the hospital. My relief, pleasure and comfort was his utmost concern. I realized with a shock I would not be opposed to the thought of his seed winning out at the end of the day. I could imagine raising an equine youth from his attentions.

By the end of his massage, I was sitting cowgirl side on top of his hips, his flagpole length sandwiched between my thighs, the head sticking out below me where I could see it. I bit my lower lip in anticipation. He didn't push. He wanted me to want it. I did.

My hips started to roll, running my slick cum covered sex along his cock, feeling the smooth, hot flesh and realizing that I was going through something my grandmother had described to me but I didn't quite understand. I was in heat. A combination of the hawt fucking from yesterday, the marking paint and the sex from today had set my inside on fire. I wanted to have a child. Needed to have one. Quick note, as I grew up I always found it weird when female peers my age would go through their periods, as I myself didn't really have situations like that. I did have situations where I was a bit more flustered than normal, along with some not quite healthy crushes on some of my teachers. I had come close with some of my lovers in college. But never like this. This was new.

Rolling my hips forward further each time finally brought the blunt head of the equines' cock to the gates of my sex, a soft gasp was given as it hooked on my sex. Angling gently, with a bit of assistance from the equine, I gasped with a rocking shudder as his cock slipped up into my sex, stretching it to the brim just like before. Rolling back slowly, I took as much as I could in one setting, causing my hips and the core of my belly to ache as I took him past the medial ring I hadn't really noticed from yesterday, feeling it slip into me quite noticeably. I started rocking forward and back, his length never quite leaving more than three inches of the eight that was buried into my sex.

I took more time with him than he did with me yesterday, bringing myself to orgasm almost a total of three times. Unlike with the others, this orgasm rocked me in a very different way, a mix of pleasure and pain, pleasure from just how deep he went and pain at how girthy he was in my sex. especially when I would clench in orgasm. Soon though he gave me what my body so desperately was craving, as his hands gripped my hips and held me tight down against his cock. I could feel it when his cock flexed four to five times, a large load of seed erupting inside of me, at first pouring out till that plug like load hit inside of me, making everything sticky.

Slowly, I was aware of him pulling out of me, laying me down against his chest to steady my breathing, as I could feel the steady, strong heartbeat from his chest. I was sore in so many different ways, yet I knew that I was going to endure more. A part of me wondered if females who were used to this way of living had like goddess like levels of sexual stamina, only to realize that it was probably only during given parts of the year. Sure I would have sex like any other normal human, which was as often as I could, but I rarely ever got to the point of literally needing it like this.

I lightly dozed, aware of my surroundings and the incredible soft warmth underneath me, before finally opening my eyes and lifting up off of the Equine. I was sweaty and slick in more ways than one, the Matriarch continuing to watch me with some amusement as I looked down between my legs to see that my vulva was quite swollen in arousal and sexual overuse, more so than it had ever been before. Sitting up with a soft grunt, I looked over at her and blushed as I realized she was watching the entire exchange.

The Matriarch started to speak up, explaining how such an occasion usually called for a week or two of sex in this fashion, but given how I was already getting quite worn out, she would make some adjustments. Gesturing to the equine, she told me that she recommended that for now, take him back with me to my camp, show him some of our ways, let him talk to some of our people. He would not do any other sexual advance unless asked upon. As I was a recognized Matriarch, she explained that I needed a proper advisor, and the equine knew much of their ways and would be able to advise me. I learned then both of their proper names, which are unpronounceable in common. Furre language is difficult to explain, as proper nouns were unique series of sounds, rather than meanings. For the purpose of this Journal, given the nature of the expedition, I offered them names that they could say to our people if they wished. Both of them were more than agreeable to it. The equine, who I would put at his young thirties, just a little older than I, is Verethor. The Matriarch I gave the name of Ninali.

Ninali explained to me that she would come tomorrow to our expedition to speak to those that could understand, answer questions as needed. It would give me a day or so to rest, but I was also encouraged if I felt "the fire" as Ninali described it, feel free to take Verethor off to the side and he would fufill me as much as I needed to ensure that a child rested in my belly to ensure a proper alliance of our people. I couldn't help but blush as Ninali said that to me realizing that if anything, Verethor had become almost a husband to me, albeit an accidental one.

Ninali bid me farewell and started to rise, as Verethor leaned over and kissed at my shoulder rather affectionately as I pressed on the comm unit in my ear to make sure it was still functional. I told the expedition I would be heading back as soon as I had gotten sorted and dressed. I explained to them how Verethor would be coming with me. He was an honorary member of the expedition under my authority and was to be accorded all allowance and protection. .Victor started swearing almost immediately before Bill cut him off, telling me that my tent would be ready for me back at the camp to clean up as needed.

As it is, I am writing this and I still don't believe it. Verethor is sleeping with me tonight and even though I washed for a full hour, his scent among the other males is the strongest against my skin. I had the tent moved to the edge of the camp to give some privacy for I am afraid that after tonight, the full expedition is going to know that I have been getting fucked both partially against my will and fully with my will over the last two days. Tomorrow is going to be interesting...