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Ender of Pain: Chapter 1 for Idesin by Draconicon

The puma nurse had expected to see a lot of places in his life. He'd even expected to one day go into the jungles of the unexplored continents and see the tribes there, offering his help as best he could. It was all part of the dream of helping people live good lives.

As he sat at the edge of the village campfire, Ender had to admit that the tribe's people and structures matched what he'd expected to see, if he'd ever made a visit of his own volition. However, the getting there, and the other things since falling through the wormhole, were not so much in line with his plans.

Ender bit his lip as the two assistants assigned to him - a wolf boy and a lion girl - continued drawing dark lines through his fur. The paint that they used was almost warming as it touched his skin, and the puma wondered if it was due to some chemical property or if they'd heated it before applying it.

"Thanks for your help. What is this?"

"The shaman made it, Ender."

"Yeah, it's a secret."

Of course it is, he thought. Just like me being able to understand you guys is, and how I even got here. Secrets after secrets.

The puma shook his head, glancing back at the ring of light cast by the campfire. A number of scouts and hunters gathered around it, most of them wolves but with enough of a smattering of other species to look like a college district back home. It didn't feel like other tribes that he'd seen, but their behaviors, their markings, and their way of life were too similar to discount.

It didn't help that they'd behaved just like the tribes out of old pulp novels had, either. He vividly remembered having the buck near the fire pointing a spear at him when he'd arrived, and then he'd nearly had the damn thing shoved up his ass when he lost his balance in a tree when he was trying to be sneaky. That had been a close encounter, for sure.

He still wasn't even sure that the whole 'initiation' thing was worth it. Yes, he had some safety here, but where was he? More important, when was he?

Jerked out of his worries as his 'assistants' dragged their fingers over his thighs, Ender blushed.

"Do you have to...um...go there?"

"The shaman said you are to be marked as a full member of the tribe."

"I guess that's a yes, huh?"

"Why would we mark you any other way?"

Shaking his head, the feline reclined a bit further, trying not to think of those soft fingers trailing down along his legs. It reminded him a bit too much of much larger fingers grabbing for him over the last few hours. Specifically, those belonging to that jaguar over there, he thought as he glanced at the large feline.

The hunter grinned back at him, deliberately reaching beneath his loincloth and fondling himself before Ender looked away. He blushed at the memory of seeing that jaguar without it, and knowing just how much it was hiding. Worse, how much the jaguar had tried to use it on him during their 'hunt' for him as the last part of his initiation. That cat had been harder to shake off than any of the wolves.

It didn't help that the little lines being drawn along his legs required him to be naked, either. Each time that they moved up, they seemed to come tantalizingly close to his nether regions before backing off, leaving that warming paint along his fur and making him feel all tingly.

"How long have you been making these marks?"

"Ever since the shaman taught us how, Ender."

"It has been an honor to be allowed it; children are never allowed to do it, in case they screw it up."

I don't imagine they are. Any mistakes could get people killed, if they're not all the same species here. These marks would be life or death when seen at a distance. He looked down at his chest. They weren't particularly emblematic, but judging from the few other designs he'd seen, the intricate waving lines of this tribe were greatly at odds from the straight angles he'd seen elsewhere. They probably kept it more complicated so that it couldn't be so easily imitated.

He jumped again as the painting fingers finally reached his sheath, drawing several swaying lines up the side of it.

"I don't remember seeing that on the hunters..."

"That is because you won't be a hunter."

"Then...what will I be?"

"You're our healer."

"But what about the shaman?"

"He will talk with the spirits. You will talk with our bodies."

The way they phrased it almost sounded like something dirty, but Ender didn't laugh. Hearing the tone in the lion's voice as she said it made it almost sound mystical, and to a primitive people, he supposed that it would. Modern knowledge of diagnostics would allow for something much more...well, magical in finding out what was wrong with the members of a tribe. Ender supposed he was lucky that they didn't think he was a witch.

Then again, if I'm so far back that they're still at this level of technology, I don't think witch burning has been invented yet, either, he thought with a chuckle.

With the paint drawn in lines from his neck to his ankles, and finishing with a small swirl around the bottom of his feet, Ender was finally allowed to stand. His assistants guided him into the firelight, where he tried his best not to blush as his full body was put on display again.

On the opposite side of the campfire, an older wolf with his fur gray around his neck and shoulders, and a slightly younger one that was almost fully black sat together. The former was the shaman, and the latter was the chief, Ender remembered; the chief had been curious about him, and had overruled the shaman's initial intent of throwing him to his death from one of the nearby cliffs.

The shaman stood, walking around the fire. He took the bowl of paint from Ender's assistants, and held it at chest level between them.

"You've shown much cleverness and power in your trials. While you could not best our warriors in combat, you survived them, and when called upon to hide yourself in the jungle, you became one with the shadows. In our huts, in our village, you have proven that you have earned a place. And by your actions, you've earned a reward greater than many warriors have ever dared to dream of."

"Yes, a place that I'd prefer to be in myself."

Everyone looked away from the shaman to glance at the chief. The younger wolf chuckled.

"You can't expect everyone to be jumping for joy. We are happy to have you, Ender of Pain -"

Ender O. Ender O. Payne, not of.

"- but I was hoping to be on top of you tonight, not under you."

"Are you backing out of our traditions, chief?"

The question left a moment of silence as the shaman waited for an answer.

"Not at all. I just prefer one over the other."

The hunters chortled to each other, and for once, Ender couldn't blame them. For that matter, he almost wanted to do the same. While it hadn't been his primary reason to try so hard in the last part of the initiation, the offer to top the chief hadn't been a bad incentive. Back home, he'd seen a number of attractive wolves, and he'd never acted on the impulse to actually have a little fun with them. Now that he was away - and hopefully far away from any possible ancestors or descendents, whichever way he'd gone - why not see what he could do?

The shaman brought his attention back to the moment, dabbing his fingers into the paint and lifting them above the fire. The mixture sparkled, almost burning for a moment before the old wolf pulled it back.

"You have proven your body, your heart, and your soul. The tribe accepts you, as you accept us."

Ender lowered his head, accepting the touch of the paint to his forehead. It burned more than the other paints had, but he supposed it was a reaction to the flames, turning the paint and whatever was in it hotter.

As the cheers of the villagers went up, the chief walked around the fire. Unlike the hunters - but like Ender - he wore nothing, his hefty sheath slightly open with the tip of his cock, and his balls hanging low. The patterns on his fur were dried, but glimmering in the firelight. Sweat or a fresh coat, Ender wondered idly.

"Chief."

"Ender of Pain. There is just one more thing to do before you are officially a part of the tribe. As no warrior can do this, nor any shaman, it is your last act before you are part of our little group. As such, you have the choice. How do you want me?"

Ender thought about it for a moment. As inventive as he usually could be - and had shown himself to be in his escapes - there was only one position that spoke to him. He smiled at the chief.

"Get on your hands and knees, and raise your tail."

As the muscled wolf went to all fours, the shaman offered the puma a second bowl. It was clear and thin, but as soon as Ender touched it, he felt the slipperiness of it. He was glad to see it; as the chieftain showed his hole, it was clear that it was seldom touched, and he didn't want to hurt his new leader.

He stroked the slippery stuff into his emerging shaft, slowly going down to his knees behind the wolf. It was the work of a moment to rub the lubricant under the chief's tail, but to his surprise, his fingers slid in almost immediately, popping inside.

"Have you taken that many?"

"Not at all. Our shaman is simply that good."

Apparently, he thought as he lined up for his fun. His slippery shaft slid along the wolf's rump, slipping between the two cheeks easily before lining up with the chief's hole. Ender felt all the village watching him, and almost pulled away, almost too embarrassed.

But there was a part of him that had changed in the chase, and that part wanted this. It wanted this a lot. Grabbing hold of the wolf's tail, the puma pushed his cock head to the wolf's hole, and thrust forward. The lubricant and the chief's relaxed state was all he needed to slide in, and he moaned at the feeling of the wolf's hot ass squeezing down on his cock.

"Mmmph...Not bad...not bad, Ender of Pain."

"Not too much for you?"

"No. Just go slow for now."

"Heh, you're not my chief yet."

"No, but I will be tomorrow morning, so keep that in mind."

Tempting as it would be to make it a hard romp, the wolf made a good point. Conscious of the state of his own rear end, Ender kept his thrusts slow and gentle, gliding in and out of the chief's hole.

This is going to be a good night, he thought as he found his rhythm. Tomorrow, he could find more answers. Tomorrow, he could worry. Tonight, he had pleasure, and he would enjoy it.

The End