A World of Womencraft story
Malala woke up before her harem with the sudden urge to urinate. She had learned the trick to early rising from some friendly humes of the Southern Tribes. There were too many different subcultures among the humes of the Infinite Plains to correctly identify each one, so the entire collective was simply called the Southern Tribes, much like how humes referred to all the tribes of catlna as cat people. Most catlna despised humes and saw the term "cat people" as an ignorant pejorative, but Malala thought herself much wiser than most and realized how valuable trading goods and experience with the Southern Tribes could be.
Both the Southern Tribes and catlna claimed a rootless existence on the Infinite Plains hunting great and terrible beasts for their meat, skins, bones, and poultices. The plains were massive, but the two races often entered into skirmishes with each other on sight, especially if they were on the trail of the same beast. Humes who lived in cities and settlements called animals prey or even game, but out on the plains, a hunter could easily become prey if they hesitated.
Malala took several steps out of their camp and squatted to piddle, lifting her breech cloth to do so. The sky was gray with slashes of orange on the horizon. The dim light made everything seem like a dream. She felt a mild agitation as none of her harem awoke despite her noise. She had hoped she had trained them better than that. As Malala returned to camp, she saw a glint in the closed eyes of Timber.
"If you have time to watch me, you have time to make breakfast," she growled playfully. Timber stood and began the labor of making grass bundles for their morning fire. No catlna was born with a name. Each one was given a name to suit their personality and could be as old as five years before receiving a proper one. Timber was tall like the trees, and his voice carried a richness other kwanes admired. Around the fire after a hunt, Malala would always task Timber with the recounting of events. Now he avoided eye contact as he ripped pawfuls of grass from the ground, twisted and tied them into tight bundles, then arranged them neatly in a pyramid. Malala knew just how good Timber was with his paws.
Malala gave Rust a soft kick in the back. He stirred and stretched with a high pitched meow then blinked surprise seeing Malala standing over him with her paws on her narrow hips. Rust had a splash of copper fur down his back and moved slower than other catlna his age. He was reserved, but when he spoke, everyone listened for his words often carried strong observations.
"Strike the camp, wake the others. I want to be underway before the sun clears the horizon."
Rust stood and began taking down the stretched hides which shielded them during the night. The others stir as he gently shook each of them awake. Fang grumbled as he woke, and Pool yipped in surprised to be touched. Fang had a massive slash of black fur across his chest, and one of his fangs was much larger than the others, jutting from his lip like a huge piercing. He was combative and ignorant more often than not, but in the hunt he was the best male in her harem. Pool was a special case. Her fur was a rare lavender color with black spots, and she was born male but chose to identify as female at a young age.
This was not unheard of among the catlna, but it did cause confusion and resentment when it came time for kwanes to choose their harems during Heat. The vast majority of catlna would never hunt under another who they perceived to be male, and most kwanes couldn't tolerate another female taking sexual attention away from them. But Malala was wise with foresight. She had spoken to humes about the place of such unique individuals in their society. They had few problems with someone like Pool leading or following. Malala made it clear to Pool she would never be allowed to lead, but Pool would be safe and respected in her harem.
Though she did not possess any superior sexual or hunting prowess, Pool was a calming presence among the males. Fang would only let Malala or Pool tend his wounds. Sometimes, regardless of the amount of energy and attention a kwane devoted to her harem, they would bicker and fight among themselves. Pool carried a calming countenance which limited the amount of fights in Malala's harem. Rust had described it best when he said talking to Pool was like staring into a pool of still water. She calmed you and cleared your mind.
In minutes, Timber had a fire going with the aid of the black fungus they had harvested, smearing it on a flat rock and scraping it with his spear tip to create a cascade of sparks. The other three packed and checked their supplies in the pre-dawn light. Rust worked diligently as Fang and Pool talked quietly as they worked. Malala assumed there was a relationship forming between them. It did not matter to her. Pool had no womb and no opening to give children, she could not harvest Fang's anima the way a kwane did.
The five of them ate in silence. Their last kill had been an urwalker: a massive tortoise that roamed the plains, devouring every bit of plant life as it went, constantly moving and constantly eating. The dung trail had been easy to follow, though such a trail could take days or weeks to lead to the source. The beast had hid in its indomitable shell, but their spears had been the perfect weapons to slay it. After the kill they harvested the meat, buried the bones to honor Giga, and lamented that the shell was too massive for them to transport. If they encountered any Southern Tribes, they could trade the location of the shell for some supplies as humes possessed the rare and valuable tools to shatter an urwalker's shell. For breakfast they ate the sour, yellow grapes that grew wild on the plains and the sweet tortoise meat from their previous kill.
Life was simple on the plains: hunting, fucking, and sleeping. The catlna did not care to build towns or farm the dirt. It was never how things were done. After eating, the harem stood in a circle around Malala, as was always done to start the day. On her knees, Malala started with Fang to stop his complaining before it could even start. She kissed the spot where his furry sheath met his furry sack, making him growl. His pointy pink cock sprouted from his sheath like a sapling breaking the soil. Malala reached between his legs and felt his asshole clench and unclench. She dragged her coarse tongue up the underside of his shaft, making him tremble and let out an embarrassing whimper. Out of the corner of her eye, Malala could see Pool's cock poke out of her sheath as Fang was pleasured. Malala fondled his fuzzy balls as she mouthed the base of his cock, slipping her tongue into his sheath. Her little black nose, the only hairless place on her body besides her nipples, pressed against his moist shaft, inhaling his musk as pre-cum dribbled on it.
"My jar," said Malala with her paw out. Timber rummaged through their supplies and placed the jar in her paw. She kissed Fang on the underside of his bright pink cock where his flared head met his shaft, then took his pointy tip in her mouth. She was careful not to wound her male with her fangs as she sucked the cum out of him. Fang growled loudly and sprayed bitter cum into her mouth. Fang was always reliable to provide her with a generous amount of his anima. After his cock shrank back into his sheath, Malala carefully allowed his cum to drip out of her mouth and into her jar.
She turned her attention next to Timber. His coral pink cock already protruded from his shaft after watching Fang be milked. Still, Malala, had a special affection for sheaths and balls that might have seemed silly to the other kwanes. Male catlna always walked around with their balls and sheath exposed for anyone to see unlike the kwanes who almost always covered their slits with a breechcloth. It was uncouth for the males to stare and fantasize about a kwane's pussy. The attraction to sheaths and balls couldn't be explained by her.
Malala sucked his balls into her mouth and pulled her head back, making Timber whimper as he sprayed pre-cum in her facial fur. Timber was a big softy during milking who liked to be punished to Malala's delight. She released his balls from her mouth only to fondle them with her paw and give them a squeeze. His cock sprouted from his sheath proudly, bouncing and twitching with excitement. Malala slowly dragged her tongue up his considerable length just in time to catch his cum in her mouth. She missed a squirt that shot in the air and came down between her eyes, matting to her fur, but she caught a healthy amount in her mouth which also went to the jar.
Rust was her next male. In the beginning, it was nearly impossible to make Rust cum before a hunt. She could make him hard and pleasure him at length, but he seemed incapable of giving up his anima to her. That all changed during one of their orgies when she was face first in his ass. Rust had let out a low grumble as she fucked his asshole with her tongue and then sprayed the grass with thick tendrils of cum. Now she knew he needed his little asshole played with to give up his anima. Again, Malala indulged herself, kissing and sucking where his sheath met his tight little sack. His cock was quick to spring up, and she went to work. Playing with his asshole like a toy, he came in just moments like all catlna men do, and she bottled his anima for the hunt later. Her jar was half full now. In such a thick puddle she could see their cum was not perfectly white but off-white like certain bird eggs.
Now it was Pool's turn. Her cock was a bit smaller than the males' but stood at attention for the kwane. Malala moved to her and looked deeply into her eyes.
"Are you ready this morning?" asked Malala. Pool grimaced and shook her head. Malala stood. Pool kept her head down, ashamed.
"There is no shame. I have more than enough anima for our next hunt." Malala tied the bottle to her breechcloth and lifted her spear. "To the hunt."
