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The Wafooru Tribe

May 2025 Flavor of the Month: Pimm's Cup!

Deep in the uncharted jungle where birds of paradise flocked and rain poured every hour on the hour, a single dirt trail was barely visible amongst the brush. It was the only trail allowed in and out of the depths of the forest, or at least the only part that could be traversed without the threat of traps or being hunted as sport.

Rory was huffing along the trail, sweat matting the raccoon's brow as his thick backpack of supplies made the trip more than a little daunting, but how does one prepare to be with an indigenous tribe for nearly half a year? He paused, took a drink form his canteen, and then pulled out the map. The trail appeared to fork off into several directions and he needed guidance. Not that the map would give him any. He sighed, the thing was sopping wet. He hadn't properly secured the strap of his backpack when the rain hit him half way down. Now the ink on the cheap paper was all smeared and the directions nearly indistinguishable.

Rory balled up the map, water welling up between his fingers as he did so, and shoved it in his pocket. He wasn't supposed to leave anything besides footprints behind. His initial supplies should get him through the first month, and his team would send in runners once a month to resupply him.

“Well, what do we know about the Wafooru tribe?" Rory pulled up his backpack straps and took a deep, humid breath before putting his thinking cap on. Well, he had an explorer's cap on now, most of his clothing made of kaki or denim. His denim shirt was open, exposing his toned chest, and his kaki shorts hugged his hips and thighs, plump from exploring, spelunking, and hiking his way around these forests for the better part of two years.

He glanced over the trails, each one as unassuming as the last. Rory pursed his lips, his dark eyes glinting as he bent down to grab a stick and toss it down one trail. The sudden sound of strings snapping and pulleys whirling filled the air as spikes rained down form a tree just barely within sight.

“Yeah, not that way," Rory nodded before turning to the other two trails. He took a moment before realizing some of the plants had an oily sheen to them. A poisonous plant with an irritant oil. Surely the indigenous people would have cleared that out of their path.

With a confident smile, Rory turned on his heel and took a proud step forward onto the only other path.

A twig snapped and Rory felt a rope snag his leg.

“Oh shit," the little coon's eyes went wide as his world was turned upside down. The trap yanked him into the trees, hanging nearly twenty feet above the forest floor by his ankle. His backpack came undone and clattered to the ground with his supplies, his hat soon fluttering afterwards.

“Son of a bitch," Rory cursed as he hung there. He could untie the knot, but he would plummet twenty feet onto the now exposed metal of his canned food and supplies. He wanted to struggle, but he ran the risk of hurting himself if he did. No, he needed to stay calm.

“Don't worry Rory," the coon grunted, his face glowing red from the wound to his pride and the blood rushing to it. “This is a live trap. They'll come for you eventually. Not like they're going to use you for target practice."

A sudden whistle and prick in Rory's stomach made the coon's eyes go wide. He looked to see a dart with colorful feathers had lodged itself deep in his guts. He quickly tried to pull it out, but his vision was already swimming. The last thing he remembered before everything went dark was slowly descending down and seeing several sets of eyes and glinting teeth. Like he was being lowered into a lion's pit.

It was, reasonably, a bad time to remember than the Wafooru were known to cannibalize intruders.

Rory sat up with a start, the dreamless oblivion falling away like a blanket being tossed off him as he came to. He was surrounded by furs, the tent surprisingly airy and cool despite the oppressive humidity. The coon quickly took assessment of his body. He was naked apart from his kakis and some bandages wrapped around his abdomen. At first he was relieved that he wasn't in some prison, elated he wasn't cannibalized, and then deeply confused about how he got where he was.

“Ah, the deep sleeper is finally awake," a voice boomed. Rory turned to see a shadow eclipsing the sunlight from the tent's entryway. “Hope you slept well."

Rory was about to say something when the man dipped into the tent. He had never seen a man move so much bulk with so much grace. A black panther, his hair a wild mane of braids and beads, his body rife with muscle, and his fur covered in intricate tattoos. They almost looked like body paint, but as Rory's eyes adjusted, he noticed the intricacies of the patters. The way they rolled over his massive pecs, the way the ink danced down his abdominals, the way it framed his powerful arms with artwork…and his COCK!

“H-huge…" Rory's eyes went wide as he tried to scoot away. The panther's package was monstrous, especially for a four foot raccoon. That cock had to be well over a foot long soft and flopping, the barbs at rest, the heavy sack of oranges hanging beneath that python had tattoos scrawled across them like a duo of suns with their flames rolling up into his neatly trimmed bush.

“Yeah, I get that a lot," the man rumbled, his voice deep and powerful. His massive feet planted on the ground before he squatted to get a better look at the coon. His cock kissing the furs beneath him, that thick head rubbing over the fibers gently like a sexy grandfather clock pendulum. Despite not wearing any clothes, the man had plenty of adornments, his neck clad in beads, his wrists and ankles having bracelets, and his toes having rings on the index toes.

“Sorry the scouts got you in the gut," the man poked Rory's bandages, his stomach burning a bit. “The salve will deal with the pain, but you're going to have to leave the bandages on."

“Wait…are you Ajani? The tribe leader?" Rory asked.

The panther's golden eyes looked deeply into the coon's, a smile playing across his muzzle. “I get that a lot, but it's because I am the chieftain, yes. Good eye on you, little one."

“Wait, you speak English?" Rory's eyes went wide. “I had no idea you were bilingual. I need my notebooks."

“Calm down little one," the panther's powerful hand came to the side of Rory's face, cupping his muzzle. The coon froze, his heart beating, his face flushing, his palms sweating, his mouth dry, and spine tingling. But then Ajani pulled at something on his ear that stung a bit. “We got you an earring so you can understand us."

“A what?" Rory blinked as Ajani took his hand away, the panther crossing his arms, satisfied with the answer he gave. “An earring?"

“One of Wafoorah's many blessings," Ajani nodded. “The gift of understanding is a very good gift indeed."

“Gift? You mean…oh god, it's true. Magic does exist in your tribe."

“Yes, yes," Ajani said standing up and glaring down at the coon, a dark gleam in his eye. “And now that you know, you can never leave."

Rory froze, a dark grin splitting Ajani's muzzle, his fangs almost predatory as he leered at him. Something deep in the coon's guts stirred, his thighs quivering. But then Ajani's face snapped into a beaming grin.

“Just kidding, little one," Ajani spun, his long tail just barely nicking the coon's nose, his powerful ass cheeks flexing as he swaggered. “Come," he gestured with his hand. “Your legs are not broken, yes? Let us move. You come to observe? You observe, yes?"

Rory was still floored by the fact magic existed, but he was first and foremost a professional. He was here to observe, and damn it, he was going to observe! The raccoon quickly got up and padded after the titan of a man and exiting the tent. The immediate warmth of leaving the shelter hit the coon like a ton of bricks. Somehow they managed to keep their homes nice and cool despite the sweltering heat outside. Once Rory's eyes adjusted his jaw hit the floor.

Men, dozens and dozens of men were working together, all of them beasts and working the land. They had built into the mountainside an irrigation system that fed their crops, their buildings were made of proper stone and wood, just not exactly what Rory was expecting. They were all black panthers, their fur dark as night, their eyes different shades of gold and topaz. They were all covered in varying amount of tattoos. The larger the man, the more tatted up they were it seemed. It didn't take long for Rory to pick out what some of the tats were for. They were their uniforms.

The men with the most tats typically were builders and laborers, the fewer the tats, the smaller the men were, but not like they were really small. They just looked tinny because everyone was a muscled beast. Rory thought the smallest of them looked like Olympic gymnasts. They weren't as stacked, sure, but they were nimble, a group of them coming down from trees holding bows, spears bloodied with the day's hunt, and baskets of fruits, herbs, and roots.

“My god, what do they put in the water here," Rory asked. Ajani gave a deep chuckle.

“It's not the water, it's Wafoorah's many blessings," Ajani answered. “He teaches us many things. How to farm the land, how to properly mark our homes for cooling."

“Mark your homes?"

“Yes, look here," Ajani pulled the door flap out to show that the leather making the tent had markings all over it. They were white and almost powdery. “It's with his blessings we are able to do miracles."

“Oh my, how intricate," Rory looked over the markings, getting lost in the designs.

“Even the stone homes are lined with leather to allow for better cooling." Ajani nodded. “All that matters is that the ink is put on flesh. It matters not if it's living or dead."

“Oh my…and…I guess you don't wear clothing because it's so hot out."

“What? We're not beasts," Ajani put his hands on his hips and pushed forward, his junk swaying slightly. “We wear shoes."

“Oh, I meant no offence," Rory's face burned. “I-I-I'm just ah…"

“That was a joke, little one," Ajani smirked. “They do have jokes where you come from, right?"

“Oh, of course!" Rory chuckled. “I knew that, I was just testing you."

Ajani's face grew dark as he glared and bore his fangs at Rory.

“You test the Chief? You wish to fight for Chiefdom? Is trail by combat, to the death."

“Oh god no!" Rory put his hands up.

“I'm joking," Ajani relaxed his stance, his rage and dark foreboding snarl vanishing in a snap. “Outsiders are so easy to trick."

“Oh goodness," Rory gasped, putting his hand over his beating chest. “Please, no more jokes. I don't think I can take it."

“Jokes are an integral part of our culture, you're not trying to say jokes cannot be culture," Ajani's eyes narrowed.

“No, jokes are fine, I just…oh…" Rory took a deep breath. “Good one, you got me."

“See, you're catching on," Ajani nodded.

“So, I see many of the men of your tribe, but I don't see any women," Rory put his fingers together. “Where do they typically stay? What do they do in your tribe?"

“Women?" Ajani chuckled and lifted his hand and shouted out at one of the larger builders. “Hey! Stati! He wants' to know where we keep our women."

“Our women?" The big panther turned, his powerful core sculpting the thick, healthy layer of fat on his gut. “Is he joking?"

“Not joking, just doesn't understand yet," Ajani chuckled.

All the men in the construction site looked at Rory and laughed and chuckled, a couple of them snickering at each other.

“Did…Did I say something funny?" Rory asked Ajani.

“It's what you people call an inside joke," Ajani shrugged. “You'll get it eventually."

“Huh, okay," Rory looked back at the men and noticed some of them were hard, their eyes trained on him with a bestial hunger that clearly said “prey." It sent a shudder down the coon's spine.

“Come, we have a ceremony for you," Ajani motioned him forward and Rory quickly followed.

They came to another large tent, larger than the one he awoke in. It was filled with low dining tables and cushions for them to sit on. Rory had no idea where they got the materials to make such soft pillows, but he also wasn't complaining. Ajani smacked a symbol on the leather of his pillow and a soft, inviting ring echoed through the tent. It wafted over the village, everyone's earrings trembling in resonance of the call. People started flocking into the tent, the cool air getting thick with the smell of musk and sweat, the smell of men who worked in the sun and the radiating heat.

It didn't take long for drinks to be served, some sort of fermented something that was sweet and tangy that the men were all enjoying. When Rory tried to sample some, Ajani put his hand over his cup.

“It's much too strong for a little one like you," he warned. “Keep your mind strong. You'll need it to…observe."

The way he said that last part gave Rory pause, but he put the drink down and opted for water. Ajani put his hand on the coon's back in reassurance. Instantly Rory's face flushed red. That touch was almost electric! Rory gave a little murr, his ears twitching and his leg kicking once or twice until Ajani removed his hand.

Soon enough the place was full of drunk men of varying sizes, all muscled black panthers ready to party. A massive beast was roasting on a bonfire outside the tent and various trays of root vegetables and fruit were being brought to the table. Rory did notice something odd though, most of the men were given meat, but he was given mostly vegetables and fruit. He was giving small portions of meat if he asked, but for the most part it was reserved for the men who were drinking.

“Ajani, why is it that I'm primarily the one eating fruit and roots?"

“Do you not like them?" Ajani cocked a brow.

“No, I think they are quite nice, but I noticed the meat was mainly going to the other men while I was given this. Don't get me wrong, I just want to make a note for my research."

Ajani had a long pause before a shallow smile formed on his lips.

“I guess they want to make sure you have your strength," Ajani shrugged. “Or maybe they wish to be your mate. You are quite an attractive outsider. The traditional gift for a mate would be fruit. It's rare this time of year."

“Oh my," Rory blushed, putting a hand over his muzzle. “Should I have refused? I'm only supposed to observe. I'm fairly sure I've broken a few rules already."

“Not to worry," Ajani smirked. “If you want to stay here to observe our culture, you're going to participate. That's the agreement we made with your chieftain."

“Oh, well, I'll try to keep my influence on your culture to a minimum."

“I doubt that will be a problem," Ajani nodded.

The sun started to dip in the sky, the blue skies turning to golden ambers. Drums were being played and droning melodies that rolled up Roary's spine and made him tingle all over. He felt the power of those drums well inside him and make his head fuzzy. Had he actually been drinking?

The men moved the tables out of the center and around the edges of the tent. They sat down at the tables, looking into the circle they had formed. The larger men were strangely sitting on the floor, closer to the circle. Rory was confused. The Wafooru were known for their celebratory dances. He half expected the men to get up and start dancing, but Rory didn't see any of the men getting up. They actually looked eager, their mouths slightly parted, panting, their eyes fixed on the opening to the tent.

Rory wasn't sure what to expect, but someone walked in, their fur a dazzling spotted coat of golds and blacks. He was a panther, his hands looked like they were henna dipped with how many tattoos were on them, rolling up his arms and fading into softer lines. His foot paws were much the same, the white ink trailing up them and then lost in his fur. The rest of his body was fairly unmarked except on his shallow abdomen. Mixed in with his creamy under coat was a symmetrical tattoo, the white ink a bit faded, but Rory swore he could see the thing pulsing with the drums.

“Wait," Rory managed to push out of the haze thrumming through his ears just long enough to question what was happening. “I…I thought I was the only outsider here?"

“They are not outsiders," Ajani put a hand on Rory's back, rubbing it gently. The coon shuddered, his fur standing on end at that touch. “You wanted to know where our women were, yes?"

Rory was purring like a kitten, chirping like a little schoolboy with sugar! He gave himself a little slap on the face to try and clear his head, but it only sent shockwaves down his spine. He gave a high pitched moan before biting his lip to silence himself. The embarrassment was enough to lurch him back into his head. He looked forward and saw that various other men had come into the tent, all different species and all with the same tattoos as the first.

Rory spotted a rabbit, wolf, fox, zebra, buck, and even a dragon! They all slinked into the circle and gently came to a man on the ring and offered their hand. None of them were refused as the largest of the men got up and started dancing with the various species. Each of them, even the dragon, were smaller compared to the men that they danced with, their bodies slinking around each other, feeling each other up. The panther's cocks were already rock hard, exceeding the one foot mark easily as they grinded, swayed, and ran their hands over their respective partner. Rory was surprised that the smaller dancers weren't erect as well, that was until the man grinding his cock between the tiger's thighs slipped his hand down to their loins and spread their petals.

Rory's eyes went wide as he saw the tiger's knees buckle, the panther beast flexing his cock and using it to keep the tiger from turning into a puddle on the floor as he showed off the pink sexy silk between the tiger's legs to the men. Some cheered and congratulated him, but others told him to stop showing off. Rory was so shocked, or maybe so intrigued, he managed to keep his wits about him to look observe the other “men." They all had nice, tight, puffy peaches where their cocks should have been.

Rory had heard of cuntmen before, but they were rare. There had to be a dozen different species dancing around the circle, their bodies slinking against the men dancing with the drums. How could such a large concentration of cuntment exist in such a remote location?

“A-Ajani," Rory looked up at the chief only for his eyes to go wide. The chief was leaning back, his two foot cock throbbing, oozing precum as he watched the display, nodding to the men as they danced with their respective partners. Rory shook his head, despite the cock being the hottest thing, his hunger for answers was stronger.

“Ajani," Rory started again. “How are there so many cuntmen in your tribe? And how are they all outsiders?"

“Isn't it obvious, little observer?" Ajani smirked. “This is the fate of all the people who trespass in our lands. Even you."

“M-Me?" Rory gulped hard, a sudden fear blooming in his gut.

“Yes, that is our way, that is our culture. And if you want to stay," Ajani's claw came to the bottom of Rory's bandages, running up them and sheering them off. “You will participate, or be eaten."

The rags they had put over his stomach fell away to reveal the same symmetrical tattoo. The lines were swirling and elegant, nothing like the other tattoos the panthers bore.

“Your body accepted the ink well," Ajani licked his lips, his hand coming to rub over Rory's belly. The coon gasped and gave a shuddering breath. The tattoo was sensitive, each line the panther chief rolled his fingers over was like him licking his neck or tweaking a nipple. He ran his claw gently across the lines, like a musician playing against his instrument, Rory gave a rising moan with each line he strummed across. “You're lucky. If you hadn't, you would have been eaten. The fact you saw another day at all was only given by the grace of Wafoorah."

“What did you do to me?" Rory shuddered.

“Take off your pants," Ajani ordered. Rory didn't want to, but he felt something itch in his brain. He had quit cigarettes before, so he knew what this feeling was, only it was so much stronger, more visceral. Addiction. Rory's eyes went wide as his hands went down to undo his shorts, the act of obeying sent a wave of pleasure down his spine. The coon had to hold back from panting, gulping back his drool as he ditched his shorts. He had no underwear underneath. Someone must have removed them and then put his shorts back on. His cock was rock hard, but it looked smaller than before.

“Good," Ajani took Rory's wrist and moved his hand to his cock. “Feel." He ordered.

Rory gave a whimpering murr, but he wrapped his hand around that shaft. He could barely get half way around that fuck log, but the pulse in that cock was heavenly. The rock hard flesh throbbed with power and authority. Just feeling that cock made Rory know his place. This was the chief, and he was a hole for fucking.

But that wasn't the order Ajani gave. He told him to feel. Rory felt a sense of calm wash over him as he got another hit of obeying. He felt that cock throb, is fingers get pushed apart even farther. Rory blinked. With every beat of the drums, their cocks throbbed, the coons smaller, the chief's bigger.

“What's happening?" Rory asked.

“You have no need for your virility," Ajani murred. “Everything will be provided for you. Your function in our tribe will be, as your people call it, wifely duties."

Rory felt that cock throb stronger, Ajani's nuts audibly churned, and the coon could feel something of his being lost with each beat of the drums. That beat grew faster, the pulses coming from his tat even stronger than before as his shallow abs faded to soft definition and then a smooth belly. Ajani's abs thickened, his pecs pushed out a hair more. The coon's masculinity was simply another drop in the bucket to this massive chieftain, but he took it none the less.

“Now, do as you were sent and observe," Ajani smirked.

Rory gave a little moan as he turned his head, his spine feeling like it was made of cool static as he obeyed. He looked on at the dancing men, their maws meshing with their partners, their cocks throbbing and drooling, their smaller counterpart's pussies dripping with desire. The sensual sway of hips was becoming less sensual and more deliberate, their cocks looking for their mark. The whorish cry of someone being penetrated was like drawing first blood in shark invested waters. The tattoos of all the men pulsed and they snarled, their cocks slipping in, finding their mark and plunging into pussies. The men on the outer rings chanted with the music, their fists pounding the ground with the rhythm of the drums, some even stroking as they waited their turn.

Some of the cuntmen were pinned to the floor and fucked into the dirt, others were gripped and fucked in the air, either their panther's claws were gripping their ass possessively as they rammed their virility in, or they laid back, their heads to their friends on the outer ring while their prize bounced on their cock.

“This is our tribe's way," Ajani smirked. “And it seems you're going to adapt well to life here as a broodwhore."

Rory looked up at Ajani, shocked at that statement, but the coon noticed something else. His hand was gently stroking the panther's thickening member. Ajani's hand came down around Rory's hip, pulled him closer, and then slinked his fingers down between his legs. Rory gasped as his cocklet was played with, only now it was simply a clit. His nuts rolled into his body to become ovaries, his nutsack shifting to become a puffy little peach as Ajani played with his little love button.

“Oh god," Rory moaned. “Oh fucking hell, god damn, fuck…" Rory felt the beat of those drums as they thrummed in his head and all around him. He spread his legs, leaning into the Chief's chest and letting him play with his sensitive nub.

Then the panther slipped a few fingers into him. It was the first time Rory had ever had something inside his pussy, and this was warm, foreign flesh; the fingers of a total stud as he flicked the coon's clit with his thumb.

It was a slow and deliberate process, or maybe it just felt slow because Rory couldn't find the strength to reciprocate. Those fingers expertly played with his pussy, his petals twitching and trying to milk those fingers petting his g-spot, that thumb gently stroking his little bullet.

“The other 'women' have tattoos to protect their knees and palms, and keep their hands and feet nice and soft." Ajani purred, the sensation rippling through Rory like a vibrator. “And now that you know the secrets of our clan, you'll be part of it. Brought into our ranks of fertile men that'll birth us a new generation. Strong, and powerful litter after litter, all of them men like the ones you see before you."

Ajani took Rory's muzzle and pulled it into a deep kiss, the men around cheering, the drums beating louder and faster. Their lips smacked, their tongues danced, their spines tingled as they made out. It was electric how their very touch was addictive. It was like Rory couldn't get close enough. Ajani couldn't get deep enough inside of him. He needed it, and the louder the drums thrummed, the more he needed.

“Now that's a good girl," Ajani purred, slipping his fingers out. Rory whined at the removal of the stimulation, but when Ajani brought his fingers up to show Rory, he was shocked. A thick snail trail connected those fingers to his pussy, a film was slowly splitting between those fingers, and droplets had soaked his knuckles and wrist. “I think you're ready for me."

“Y-Yes," Rory breathed, already addicted to Ajani's touch.

“Eager, aren't we?" Ajani purred, pulling the coon into his lap, that cock spreading the coon's thighs and hot dogging his buns while still having cock to spare. Thick pearls of pre welled up on that thick cock head, rolling down his shaft and causing strands to form wherever it touched. Currently the coon's tail had a couple strands of pre caught on it as the duo made out.

“That's a good little whore," Ajani said it so endearingly, almost as though being a whore wasn't a bad thing…but…a position to be admired? “Now, time for you to become part of the tribe."

Ajani gripped Rory's pert little ass cheeks and was pushed along that cock length until his pussy was lined up with that cock, the pre milky with swimmers already. Rory's eyes went wide as he looked down, that cock throbbing, his tattoo pulsing with the rhythm, and the idea of getting pregnant flaired in his mind.

Rory's eyes crossed from the idea, his thighs quivering and a few drips of his need fell onto that cock. Hot pearls rolled down Ajani's shaft as it came up to kiss those untouched lips. A whisper in the back of Rory's mind said he should be afraid of being broken or gored on that cock, but something else told him it would be fine.

Ajani gave a little grin, his cock working open that tight little pussy, and then suddenly he slipped in. Rory screamed as he was slowly filled with cock, that dick slipping deeper and deeper into his body, the barbs like little teasing fingers as they worked over his sensitive flesh. His hymen tore as Ajani smoothly dispatched the coon's virginity, his pink cherry being shoved deeper and deeper as the chief worked himself in. Every time Rory thought Ajani was going to bottom out, he simply messaged his cock in, working it in further, filling him up. The coon's belly stretched with the thick shaft filling it, that tattoo pulsing as it warped around that dick until Rory was firmly seated on Ajani's hips.

“That's a good little whore," Ajani smiled, man handling Rory up and down like he was a fleshlight. The little guy didn't know their exact measurements, but he knew Ajani was easily twice his size. Though, the coon wasn't thinking about their size difference, he was in the throes of passion.

Unintelligible gargling came out of Rory's maw. It was like that entire cock was throwing sparks in all directions, the wet squelching of cock in his cunt crackled in his ears like fireworks, his body feeling like it had never been complete until that moment. Gentle gasps and whorish whines were forced out of the coon every time Ajani bottomed out.

“That's good, nice and tight pussy," Ajani smiled, his arms and pecs flexing as he fucked Rory faster, the chieftain's beads and adornments jingling in time with the beat as he fucked with the rhythm. It was like those drums were controlling them both, feeding their pleasure, and every time Ajani bottomed out at the same time as those thrumming instruments, Rory would have a burst of pleasure bloom inside him.

“Oh fuck! ME!" Rory screamed, his pussy popping for the first time. His toe claws fanned, his back arched, his entire pussy throbbed and clenched. Ajani winced and hissed as his cock was milked by that tight pussy, working him over like it wanted to suck the cum right form his ripe, oversized nuts.

“You want me to fuck you? Huh? You want to be a whore that badly? Yes?" Ajani snarled before standing up and placing a foot on the table while spinning Rory around. “Face the tribe as I make you the whore you so desperately want to be."

Ajani hooked his hands up under Rory's knees, pulling them back and then locking his hands behind the coon's head into a full nelson. That massive cock plunged deep into that pussy, those balls swinging forward to smack Rory's clit. The coon gave a choking scream as his pussy gushed, a geyser. Rory's pussy popped, milking that cock for all it was worth, his orgasm never being allowed to go down as Ajani plowed that pussy. Rory sprayed the crowed, his fem cum washing over the closest seats like the splash zone at a water park.

“Are you ready to be part of the pack? You want my son's to bear witness to your conversion from man to whore?!" Ajani snarled, his balls drawing up, getting ready to dump his litter right where it needed to be.

Rory would have said yes if he could, but the pleasure was mind shattering. His tongue hung loosely as he screamed out, Ajani splashing his children in his bitch's femcum.

“Welcome to the tribe, whore!" Ajani slammed his hips forward. The base of his cock was still outside because of the position, but it only added to the show. Those balls bounced and that cock throbbed, the cum pipe snapping into clarity as it bulged with the load shooting up it. The first shot could be seen warping Rory's flesh, curving back into him until that tattoo started to bloat and swell with the thick load being dumped into him. In that moment, a tight ring gripped onto Ajani's cock head, Rory's cervix not wanting to let go of a single drop of that life giving tar!

Rory felt that first smack of cum like an epidural being shot directly into him. That first blast triggered the largest, most intense orgasm of his life. Rory screamed until there was no air in his lungs, then compressed them harder, choking on his pleasure as his toes twitched painfully, his cum spraying out harder than before as every muscle in his body clenched and strained to wring out every ounce of pleasure in his little form.

Then his belly jostled with another thick shot, his pussy clamping that shaft and milking it for every drop as Ajani snarled, screeching his triumph of his new clan's whore. Ajani yanked his cock out, only a thin rope of cum slinking out of that gaped pussy, before the chief tossed Rory to the crowd. The last few ropes of his cum splattering across the coon's muzzle.

“Come my sons, partake in the new whore," Ajani smiled down at Rory who felt half a dozen hands come to message him, pulling him around. Much like the other whores, now that the larger men had their way with them, they were being viciously gangbanged. Already Rory could feel a duo of massive cocks lining up with both his cunt and his asshole, his maw being laid back and cock being pressed against his lips. The dicks sank into his holes just as his orgasm subsided, his pleasure reigniting like embers being stoked. Rory gasped, only to have his maw filled with cock. Even his tongue touching dick was magical. He drooled, his maw wetting itself for the next meal he was about to receive.

The coon didn't see much as nuts were flung into his face while his muzzle was fucked, but he felt hands come and grip his wrists only to bring his palms to hot, hard flesh. Even his palms itched for their touch. Rory half gaged, half moaned on that cock as, his pussy popped off again while the other panthers atop him kept his hips up to keep the Chief's load right where it needed to be while fucking it in deeper.

Rory had no idea how long he was like that. The only thing he knew was that his stomach kept getting bigger and bigger, his belly pushing down onto his nips, and nearly his chin with how full of cum he was. Every time a cock deposited more DNA into his pussy, ass, or gullet, his body greedily took it, slurping it down like he needed it. And fuck, the taste! It was salty, bitter, and almost sweet in a way. It burned the back of his throat with its bitterness, it salted his tongue, it left the faintest sweet and heady musk on his nose that made him crave for more. Each dick removed from his mouth with a slurping pop as he didn't want them to leave.

He didn't care who came in him, they were all studs. He just wanted this pleasure to be eternal. He knew he could keep these men satisfied, and he refused to let up, taking load after load late into the night. At one point Rory was taken from the tent and brought out to the fire, the air strangely cool. He was sat down, his pussy plugged with another man's cock as they rested, only to have their view blocked by an eager line of Johnsons ready to be sucked. Rory gladly took them all. It was almost scary how much dick he could take and not get tired. It was like the men's cum itself was sustaining him, keeping him just conscious enough to do his duty as a whore, but not so much that he could stop himself if he wanted to.

The fucking went long into the night until the stars started to blink out, the sun rising. Rory was on his back, his massive belly sloshing as his ass was fucked, his pussy kept nice and plugged with another man's dick nice and deep in it. The constant stem of horny fuckers had slowed, now it appeared to be the youngest of the men, easily eighteen to twenty that simply weren't as big and strong were using Rory to get their rocks off.

“So, you enjoying our culture?" The chief asked as he came over, his body a sloppy mess of femcum. He had his pick of the whores, and he reeked of satisfied slut. Ajani gripped the shoulder of the man fucking Rory's maw and pulled him away to let him answer.

“Y-Yes…please…more…" Rory wined as the young stud between his legs busted his meager nut into his cunt. Given, it was more than any normal man could give him, but the massive pseudo pregnant, cum belly Rory was sporting showed how big some of those loads could actually be.

“I think you need time to rest, but don't worry," Ajani slapped his cock on Rory's face. “I came to give you breakfast. I figured you'd want to observe what we feed our whores in the morning after an initiation."

Rory wasn't listening, his maw was already wrapping around that cock and sucking. He fully accepted he wasn't an observer anymore, his objectivity was more than compromised. He went native, and he didn't care. He'd do it again. He could feel all that cum inside him, those swimmers writhing in his pussy like a constant tongue bathing his most sensitive of spots, his ova being bullied to bring out more eggs to be attacked like meat thrown to rabid dogs. The sperm aggressive and virile.

He would adjust to life here fine.

***

“Dude, are you sure you know what way we're going?" The lynx asked.

“Of course," the deer said. “This is just…a short cut."

“Well, we better not get gutted over your fucking shortcut," the Lynx sniped.

The buck lead them down the trail, pushing away branches and brush as they hauled the next month's supplies for their fellow researcher. Rory had ceased all contact, but the Chief said it was simply part of him immersing himself in the culture, or something. The buck pulled away a large palm and smiled as he saw some tents.

“See! We made it!" The deer smiled. “And you were worried for nothing."

“Um…yeah…what's going on here?" The lynx stepped forward, his face beat red. As they walked into the camp, various men had large bellies, but only a few of them were Wafooru Panthers. “I thought it was an isolated tribe, not some fucking youth hostel."

The two were suddenly stopped as a duo of spears came to point them in the face, the massive panthers snarling as they spoke in their native language. The fellow researchers didn't know what they were saying, but the fact their cocks were wet with saliva and throbbing in the cool air, the duo had an idea of what they were upset about.

After explaining who they were as best they could, the panthers took them to a large tent where they met the chief who was sitting in a circle with various other men.

“We came to bring Rory's next supplies," the buck said nervously. “Just passing through."

“But you saw how our women live, did you not?" Ajani spoke, his voice coming through on the earrings they were given. “I don't think you'll be leaving anytime soon."

“I mean…did we do something wrong?" The lynx asked.

“How about I let your friend explain," Ajani clapped his hands together and a door opened, several men snoring with their cocks out were left as a raccoon emerged, his belly bloated and jiggly with a fresh load of cum. He had tattoos on his face, hands, and feet, his belly tat warped by his big pregnant belly.

“Welcome to the tribe friends, thanks for the food, but I won't be needing it," Rory spoke, cradling his pregnant belly, his pussy hanging out for all to see, dripping with seed as he stood.

“I…I don't understand," the buck looked confused.

“Don't worry, you'll adjust to the culture nicely, I'm sure," Rory smiled. “I did just fine." Rory spoke as he went to sit in the chief's lap, sinking his pussy over the chief's massive cock. The two watched in shock as Rory impaled himself on over two feet of dick, only to gently adulate his hips for him.

“They are a very accommodating culture," Rory moaned. “There's always room in the tribe for more whores."

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