Home in the Woods
The beginning serves only to expound on the tribe's history, ways, and a few references to the land this story takes place in. There isn't too much smut here, until near the end. I just felt more like writing an actual story this time around. Feedback would be appreciated, if you ever want to see more smut from me again!! :P Forgive spelling errors. I'm too lazy to edit.
Lance was adapting to his new home quite well.
He would awaken in the morning at his own leisure, hunt with the other tribesman for food or sport, craft his own clothes or other items he learned to make, and, most importantly, participated eagerly in the nightly pleasure ritual. It was difficult to wait so long until the night, and he would often grow horny just thinking about it, having to masturbate several times a day from the pure anticipation of it all.
It never got old. He could go on there forever, worshipping the huge studs around him, having his tight ass filled with throbbing, massive horse cocks, his whole body soon bathed with warm spunk. Oh, the thought it it made him shiver with lust.
He was the talk of the village after a few weeks, having probably mated with every horse there, big or small (by comparison). He had yet, however, to service the chief again since his first night. That was a special occasion: a right of his initiation. Now, though, it was strictly forbidden, as only a special hierarchy of tribesman had the pleasure to worship the chief.
Dell, the other fox that was taken into the tribe many years ago, spent his free time teaching Lance of the tribe, its history, and its language. Long ago, he said, the first of the tribe's species had reached the western shore of the kingdom from a land unheard of. It was believed that they were too strong to control under imperial rule, and would eventually rebel and possibly destroy the kingdom. Thus, they were quickly exiled and forbidden from stepping foot on any land of the kingdom. .
The central forests were dangerous and frightening, and were therefore largely uncharted. The horses were thus permitted to settle there, where it was believed they would perish in the perils of the forest. The Kingdom only had stories and legends of the forest to fill its textbooks, and word quickly spread that it was a land to be feared and avoided at all costs.
The horses, however, flourished there. They had no fear of the forest, nor did they, unbeknownst to the Kingdom, even wish to overtake it. They had simply been explorers from their home, where they also lived a tribal, nomadic life. Little was known of their land, even to them. In fact, after so many years of living in the forests of the Kingdom, the native land was almost forgotten completely, but the tribal lorekeepers still passed whispers of it to younger generations, who would do the same.
The history of the tribe was therefore little known to most of its people, except the hierarchy, which Dell was a member of. It wasn't because they wished to suppress information, but that they mostly simply did not care.
The horses were a race that sought and desired only one thing: pleasure. This particular tribe was a branch of the main one, somewhere deeper in the forest, that consisted only of males who enjoyed other males. Elsewhere were tribes of males and females, and also tribes who practiced much more particular, strange fetishes.
The Kingdom had never bothered the horses since their exile, as the horses had never bothered the kingdom. They were not a people of war, and the Kingdom was much too afraid to instigate any conflict. Ever since the horses were exiled many years ago, their legend grew and grew until eventually it was believed by the common people that giant, evil monsters dwelled in the forest, hungry for prey.
That is one of the reasons Dell and Lance had been taken in. The tribe did not wish for the people to know the horse's true peaceful nature, as they could then possibly be exterminated. Thus, the two foxes were initiated into the tribe, and there they would forever remain.
Not that either fox minded. They were happy about this new life. Dell had been an innkeeper before he found the tribe (or they found him). One night he was working as usual, when the hottest creature the fox had seen entered the inn. Dell had never seen anything like it: he didn't know then that it was a horse, walking about freely, as the common people thought that the horses were larger, more vile and sinister, thanks to legend and rumor.
Later in the night, another one came! Dell gave him a room as well, after being sufficiently teased and turned on by him. Berin was his name. Dell later crept upstairs after hearing a loud...moaning sound. What he saw changed him forever: those two studs going at it, threatening to break through the very floor with their fucking. When they left together, Dell followed them, until he was caught, brought to the tribe, and initiated.
"Are they still here?" Lance asked.
"No. They left a few months ago to visit the other tribes scattered about. They had developed new tastes in pleasure, and wished to explore them."
Lance found this all very interesting, but later he forgot this information even existed when he partook in the nightly ritual. Now he understood why so few tribesmen knew their own history: it simply did not matter. Why care when so much pleasure awaited you here and now?
Dell tutored Lance in the tribe's language, which was a series of brief syllables that sounded more like sexual grunts and moans than an actual language. It was surprisingly easy to pick up on, as the vocabulary wasn't very extensive past words pertaining to food, shelter, sexual jargon, and the elements. In a matter of months, the fox was fluent in it, and was communicating freely with the others.
Lance was one of them. However, his status was very low, and thus he was not allowed to top any of the horses as Dell was. He was simply a toy for them to use as they pleased during the night, but this all suited the fox just fine. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like to dominate one of these studs, though.
Lance had more questions for Dell about the ritual, though, after learning about this "rank" and who it permitted you to top, or have sex with. "How many ranks are there?"
"Only three. One where you're a pure submissive, one where you can have sex with anyone else of the same rank or lower, and finally the hierarchy, where you can top anyone, except the chief."
"Has anyone ever topped the chief?"
"Only a select few in his lifetime. Still, it's been 10 years since he was last topped. It is a very special privilege, and the horse to do the topping is revered among the tribe's people."
"So at the highest rank, anyone can have sex...with -anyone-?"
"No," Dell said. "Family members are forbidden from touching each other. New members join all the time, from distant tribes who sought out our own. Sometimes they bring their sons, but the sons are not allowed to be anywhere near the father during the ritual."
"Well that's good to know," Lance smiled.
"There's one more thing I should tell you about, since it begins in just a few days," Dell added.
"What is it?"
"Once a year, the tribe participated in the Week of Restraint. It is a week where the horses are forbidden from touching themselves or each other. They abandon pleasure in order to fully appreciate it once they are permitted to experience it once again. It serves as a reminder for what they live for."
Lance's mouth dropped. That sounded impossible! "But how?" he sputtered. "Have you seen these studs go at it? They fuck like their life depends on it. Over and over, too! There's no way they can go a week without working those..." the fox started to feel his mouth water. "...Massive cocks." He gulped.
"I know it's hard to swallow, but they manage. It is a sacred tradition that they uphold religiously, else they will be punished. It builds discipline, and teaches them to appreciate what they live for."
"How are they punished?"
"Few ever have broken the law of Restraint during the week, out of respect. But those who do...well, let's just say they become unable to participate in the Nightly Ritual anymore," Dell's face was grim.
Lance shuddered, not wanting to think about that anymore. "Shit. Does that mean I'm not allowed to even jerk off?"
Dell shook his head sadly. "No. To do so would invoke the wrath of the tribe. Don't even go to the forest to do it. They will find out, believe me. They've dealt with sex all of their lives, so they have their ways of reading you. You might suddenly be more relaxed one day, rather then pent up, and they will know. Or perhaps you aren't as sensitive as you should be when the week is over and the Nightly Ritual begins again, and they will know, and punish you there and then."
Lance thought his head was spinning. He had been jerking off countless times per day, and having mindblowing sex every night. How could he suddenly refrain for an entire week!? "How the hell am I supposed to do this?" he asked desperately.
Dell held out a hand to soothe him. "I know it sounds difficult. I almost failed my first time, but after the first few days you will be fine. You have to occupy yourself with other things. Craft and create. Hunt. Build. Avoid the others if you have to. The horses cloth themselves during this week in order to avoid temptation. That's also why the week happens in the Winter when it is cold, and the tribe can bundle up in many layers. The fire is only lit late at night to keep predators away, and the huts are kept cold to avoid too much relaxation. It is difficult and very daunting, but you must endure, lest you are punished."
Lance felt his heart sink. Dell's words did little to calm him. His mind was racing with how he would be punished - how he would lose his...oh Gods! It was too horrid to even consider.
He participated in the Ritual that night with a distant mind, but after a while succumbed to the pleasure and lost himself in it as usual. He went to sleep happy.
The next day proceeded in the same manner as all the others, but seemed to drag on and on as Lance felt the anxiety mounting within him. Tomorrow would be the day the Restraint began. He shivered just to consider it, and was hoping he wouldn't be alone in this ordeal. To his horror, however, when the chief announced tonight would be the last night of Ritual, the other horses were happy! Like it was some sort of break or something! How could this be?
Dell felt sick. He couldn't focus at all on pleasing the other horses. He told them that he felt ill, and was permitted to turn in early, retreating to his hut. He covered his ears to block out the moans, grunts, and splashing of cum, until finally he drifted off with troubled dreams that did not permit him a moment's rest.
He awoke with a start, sweating profusely, knowing that today was the day. He wouldn't be allowed to have sex. He wouldn't be allowed to touch himself. For seven days and seven nights. The fox looked down, horrified to see that he had a throbbing erection, eagerly rubbing against his stomach. He cried out and shoved his blankets over it, trying desperately to hide it even though no one was around; even though it was okay to have an erection during this week.
The fox waited for what seemed hours until it went down, and finally had the confidence to leave his hut. He gathered some clothes from the corner that he had made a month ago to prepare for the Winter, and put on layer after layer until he could hardly move. "This should hide everything," he said to himself. He waddled out of the hut into the sun, dried cum littering the area around him. His squeaked and hopped back into the threshold of his hut, arms sticking nearly straight out, unable to bend them.
The tribe was walking about, each person tending to his own business. Every horse looked completely calm and composed, and was clothed completely from the neck down. Lance was relieved to see that their bulges (crotch and muscle) were hardly noticeable under their thick layers of clothing. At least that was some silver lining.
"What are you doing?" one horse stopped and asked when he realized how ridiculous Lance looked. The fox shifted his feet until he was facing him, being unable to turn his head. He recognized the horse, one of the second ranks. He was an average size for the species, but the fox remembered vividly being bathed in what must have been gallons of his spunk. He was quite the cum factory. "Uhh..." Lance stuttered, unable to come up with an explanation. "Cold," he nodded, smiling dumbly.
"Take off some layers," the horse said. "You look foolish. It is not that cold," he smiled and gave the fox a friendly rub on the head. Lance said and figured he was right, stripping some layers until he was barely mobile in all of his limbs.
The day proceeded much like any other. The fox tried to take Dell's advice and busy himself with other tasks, taking much more time to complete them now, much to the other's chagrin. They eventually left him to pursue their tasks themselves in a more efficient manner, to Lance's relief. He spent most of the day hunting, skinning, and cooking for the others, returning with quite the bounty, pleasing the tribe. He smiled after his delivery, ate quickly, and took shelter in his hut away from the others. He lay there until it was late, and drifted into sleep.
The fox awoke the next morning with an erection once again. He laid there, staring at the ceiling, thinking of everything he possibly could in order to make this erection go down. It was more difficult than last time, but he managed.
The fox went through the same routine as yesterday, albeit with more difficulty. He got more random erections than before, and his thoughts frequently flickered to his most erotic nights with the tribe. He would randomly picture one of the horse's massive, throbbing cocks - precum oozing out and trickling down that pulsating shaft, waiting to blow at just one touch. The fox would then shake his head, and get back to work.
This got harder and harder as the days progressed. By the fourth day his erection wouldn't go down when he awoke, and he carried it with him everywhere he went. The other horses would laugh and poke fun at him, giving his cock a quick poke and then telling a joke before getting back to business. Lance thought this was awful considering the serious consequences should he disobey the tribe's doctrine.
Everywhere he walked, his footlong cock throbbed against his body. His pants became increasingly wet. He shuddered as he felt his member throbbing greatly against him, making him have to stop what he was doing and wait a bit just to recover. His hunting yielded no game, and his crafting was terrible. It took him hours to fall asleep that night, precum oozing through his pants as he humped his bed.
By day five he caved. He knew there was only a couple days left, but he couldn't resist. The fox darted up a tree while hunting, sitting on the highest, strongest branch he could find. He wasted no time in shoving his pants down until the waistband was just below his balls. He flopped them over it, shivering as he touched them. His cock was rock hard, visibly throbbing as he firmly grasped it. He nearly fell out of the tree when he did, ignoring the extreme danger of his actions - both the possibility of being caught, and of falling out of the tree.
He moaned loudly as he gave his cock that first stroke, but quickly bit his tongue down. His cheeks puffed out in a muffled cry as he stroked faster, faster, thinking of all those muscled studs and their enormous, spurting cocks, showering him in layer after layer of spunk. His eyes closed. His body grew tense. He could feel his urethra bulging as what must have been his biggest load began to creep up his shaft.
Suddenly he heard a crunch. Footsteps. Loud ones, too. Shit! Two horses were just in the distance, drawing closer and closer. They wielded bows, and were on the hunt for game. Their eyes were peeled for any minor movement in the distance. They must have seen something, because they were crouched and trying to be quiet as could be (it was a miracle they managed to hunt anything, considering their size). They moved swiftly but softly, approaching the very tree Lance was perched in, taking cover at its base.
Oh, no. Lance couldn't hold it - it was already too late. "Oh, FUCK!" he cried loudly, grabbing onto the branch below him to steady himself. He thrust relentlessly, cum pouring out of his cock like he was as horse himself! It sprayed and sprayed, the fox's tongue hanging out, his whole body being covered with his own spunk. Most of it, unfortunately, rained below him, right onto the heads of those two horses.
His orgasm was long, and his bliss was genuine, but it was over all too soon, and the fox tensed up, realizing how fucked he was. The two horses looked up at him, anger flashing in their eyes. No way he was going down.
Lance's heart raced as one of them left, probably to alert the others. The remaining horse stood there with his arms crossed, glaring up at Lance. In an hour or so, the other one returned, and behind him was Dell, a few other stallions, and, to Lance's horror, the chief himself. They gathered at the base of the tree and stared up at him.
"Exile Lance. It has been reported to me that you have broken the sacred tradition of our tribe," the chief explained with his deep, sexy voice. "Because you are new to our tribe, your punishment will not be as severe as usual. But still you must be punished. Just as you were exiled from your first home, now you must be exiled and forced to seek another. You are no longer a part of our tribe. If you come within our borders you will be killed. This is my judgement, and so it will be upheld. Goodbye, Exile."
The chief turned to go, and the others followed, all of them dwarfed by his mighty stature. Dell lagged behind to look up at a frightened, stunned Lance. The fox frowned and shrugged his shoulders up at him. "You got off easy, Lance. This was just another chapter in your life. Good luck, friend." He turned to go.
"No! You can't!" Lance said, unable to defend himself properly. "Come back! I can try again, for another week!" They weren't turning around. "PLEASE!" Nothing but the crunching of sticks and leaves under mighty hooves.
Lance fought back tears as he shimmied down the tree, not knowing what to do, or where to go. He was truly alone now, more so than he had been when he was exiled from the Kingdom. Then, he had felt no loss in leaving. Now, he felt completely abandoned.
Grief transformed into anger as the day came to a close, and night descended. His mind was clouded, and his judgement was impaired from a mix of rage and lust. Lance wasn't going to go down this easily. He had only been with the tribe for close to half a year, but he felt more connection to them than anyone or anything else. He was going to fight back. He was going to commit the ultimate taboo.
When it was well into the night, and the tribe would be sleeping, Lance found his way back to the camp thanks to the large night fire. He crept to the largest hut, the one that housed the chief alone, and crept inside. It was cold in there, and the massive stallion was slumbering restlessly in the center upon his blanketed straw pile. Gods, he was huge. Nine feet tall maybe? And just bursting with muscle. Lance was happy to see that in spite of the cold, the chief slept in naught but a small cloth. He was on his back, blanket thrown off him, snoring loudly. His barrel chest rose and fell to his breathing, one hand over his cut stomach, the other behind his head.
Lance shivered as his eyes ran down that gorgeous, enormous body. The chief must have been reaching his limit in the Week of Restraint, because his mammoth cock was harder than Lancer had ever seen it. Fuck, it was so big. Bigger than Lance was tall, and as thick as that stud's muscled arm! Gods, how it throbbed...how all those veins adorned the five foot length and visibly pulsed with blood. How that fat dollop of precum oozed from the head and trickled down that throbbing shaft, tickling it, making the chief lightly thrust his hips into that air. His cock was so hard it stuck nearly straight up. A long rope of pre was connected between his cockhead and chest. Lance almost came on the spot.
The fox licked his lips and got on his knees next to the chief. His shivering hands wrapped around that titanic fuckstick, his thumb not even close to being able to touch his fingers. This very simple act was enough to violently stimulate the chief. The stallion snorted and bucked, his cock lurching and splashing a wad of precum onto the stud's chest. Lance groaned and rubbed that clear liquid all over the stallion's body, coating those bulging, flexing muscles with a shiny film of precum, slathering it all over those mountainous pecs and that eight pack cut enough where one could fucking climb every cobblestone muscle.
Lance's hands started to pump that mighty cock. To his pleasure, the chief started to buck in his grip, the horse groaning loudly. Pre was splashing all over the stud, strings of it in his mane, the horse licking his lips clean of it in his sleep.
"Fuck..." Lance shuddered. "So hot..." he pumped a little faster, feeling that fat cock throbbing in his palms. The fox's eyes flickered, and warmth surged through his body as he came in his pants. He stuck his fist in his mouth to keep from crying out as he fell to the ground, humping the earth beneath him, riding out his orgasm until it finally came to a conclusion. His lap was soaked, but he was still horny as ever. He grabbed that cock again and resumed work on the monster.
The chief was moaning deeply. Lance grinned as he forced that harder-than-steel cock down against the chief's body. He cupped the back of the horse's head and picked his up, and quickly the chief opened his mouth wide and stuck his member right inside. Muffled moans escaped his throat as he sucked himself loudly, slobbering all over that huge fucking cock. Perfect. Everything was going according to Lance's plan. There was no going back now for the chief.
The stallion was still asleep (and must have been having a damn good dream). But Lance crept to the threshold of the hut, picked up a rock, and threw it a piece of pottery behind the horse. It shattered, and Lance darted away and into the surrounding woods just as he saw the chief's eyes flick open, cock still in his mouth. Lance darted up a tree, waiting and watching.
Inside the hut, the chief awoke from one fantastic dream. When his eyes flicked open, he didn't know if he was still dreaming of if he was awake, but Gods he did not care one iota! His groaned louder than ever, hugging his huge monster to his wet body, sucking his cock like never before. Precum oozed from his lips, covering his entire slick shaft as his hands flew up and down it, squeezing hard as he pumped it. His arms bulged with muscle as he worked his enormous member, nasty sucking noises coming from his mouth.
He was so close. His cock bulged like never before - swelling even bigger as it made room for the monster load that was to come. His urethra inflated greatly, that tidal wave of spunk traveling up, up...
The chief popped his mouth off his cock, arms on either side of him. His back arced and his hips slammed into the air as the mother of all orgasm took over him. "AAAARRGH-!"
The sound rang throughout the camp, awaking every denizen. Cum surged from the chief's cock. It was out of control, and he had no desire to stop its flow. Rope after rope of steamy, thick cum exploded from his inflated member. It throbbed and lurched with every huge spurt, splashing all over the hut, breaking objects, shooting through the thatch room. "YES! OH FUCK! YEAH!" the chief was heard roaring. Cum soaked his body, and he spread it all over his flexing muscles, worshipping his cock, worshipping himself. He flexed his arms and kissed and licked them, he bent down to suck his cock again, he rolled over and humped the ground frantically, cumming and cumming, just not able to stop.
The other horses had gathered about his hut, some furious, and some hopelessly aroused, wanting to join him, but too afraid. Lance watched from his treetop with an grin on his face, cock in his hand. He gasped when he saw a hole blow in the hut's roof, trying not to laugh. Damn, he wish he could have stayed to watch.
Cum flooded the chief's hut, and more yet was escaping from his monster, simply insatiable. The stallion could only lay on his back, moaning loudly and writhing in his own seed, until finally it ended, and his member fell onto his body with a loud thud. He was dizzy, overwhelmed, exhausted.
In poured the high ranks of the tribe, fury in their eyes, enraged that that horse they all revered the most could break their most sacred tenement. He was garbage in their eyes now - an animal who couldn't control himself. He was not fit to be their leader. He was not deserving of the honor bestowed upon him. He would have to be punished. Such was their judgement.
The chief understood, believing himself to have succumbed to desires he thought himself master of. He was ashamed, and ignorant of the trickery committed upon him. He gave himself freely to the hierarchy, stripped of his status, and led into the woods for his ultimate punishment.
Lance felt no remorse, only justice. Pleasure wasn't something that could be mastered or controlled, he believed. It could lead one to the summit of his joy, or the deepest pit of his despair.
The fox climbed down the tree and ventured away from the camp, seeking a new beginning to his life.