Playful-Dancer-in-the-Dappled-Moonlight shifted her weight from hoof to hoof uneasily, she normally went by Dancer among her herd, but today she was to be the Sacrifice.  It was early spring, the world just coming to life, and the young centauress had barely seen eleven seasons.  As was tradition, once a generation on the chosen spring, the first virgin filly to come into her first heat was selected.

Dancer jumped as a brush smacked against her rump, "Stop fidgeting!" the not unkind voice of the herd's Matron scolded her before returning the brush to work through the filly's mane and hair, brushing it out into ebony rippling silk that flowed down Dancer's equine shoulders.  The filly's haunches were dappled with little patches of grey, looking like little puddles of moonlight gathered on her dark hide.

More work was done to brush out the filly's tale, even as Dancer continued to fidget, not just fear that made her hooves shift, but the growing warmth under her tail that demanded attention from her.  Setting aside the brush, the matron took up a bowl with white mud, and used her fingers to start painting tribal markings across the filly's equine body, down along her ribs, over her flanks, and down over her back legs, lines swirling in flowing shapes, but all the lines seeming to draw and focus back towards the filly's tail, and the puffy lips of her vulva.

Dancer let out a little gasp as she felt the cool kiss of the mud painting back against those lips, shivering as her head jerked up, the Matron sharply reprimanding her, "Stay still or it will need to be done again!" she warned, before her fingers again glided beneath the filly's tail, covered in the white mud to draw lines over the lips of the filly's vulva.

Finishing that step, the matron rose as Dancer's body shivered, her tail quickly swishing behind her.  The matron moved around and kneeled down before the tanned human part of the filly, to better reach, taking the mud again on her fingers, and continuing the lines forwards, sliding from over her hips, and up over the filly's taut, bare stomach, the cool feel of the mud making Dancer have to stifle a little giggle.

The giggle only lasted so long as the patterns of mud trailed up over her ribs, and then circled around her immature, just budding breasts, drawing a little gasp again as Dancer bit her lower lip as the matron's firm, unyielding touch slid the mud over her nipples, making her squirm again, the cool kiss of mud making them perk and tighten beneath it.  The markings continued up over Dancer's neck, and across her cheeks to end just beneath her bright blue eyes.

The matron stepped back to admire her handiwork, walking around the filly on her hooves within the candle lit hut, before nodding to herself, "Good, now for this," producing a thick cloth blindfold, which she stepped forwards to wrap around Dancer's eyes, and tie behind her head, stealing the light, "Don't be afraid, you will be changed, but you will survive this."

"But whats-?" the filly starts, before the matron cuts her off.

"No questions, i can't tell you what will happen, come, take my arm, I will guide you as far as I can," she murmurs.  Dancer takes the matron's arm, and the matron guides him out of the hut, and though she could sense the light, Dancer was left in darkness, totally reliant on the Matron to guide her.

They walked for what felt like hours, Dancer in darkness, she could hear the birds of the forest around, she felt the cool shade of the trees, feel the loam of the forest beneath her hooves when the Matron finally stopped, "Now, listen carefully when I am gone, you will hear her sing, she will guide you, do not remove the blindfold.

"Where am I going Matron?" Dancer asked nervously, turning her head this way and that.

The Matron ran a hand through Dancer's hair to soothe her, "Shh, just follow the song," she told her again, before turning, and trotting off.

Dancer turned after her, "Matron? Matron Ghost! Don't leave me!" she tried taking a few hesitant steps after her, and stumbled over a root, going down to her knees with a little squeak, surprised more than hurt, her hands fluttering up towards the blindfold before stopping herself and pushed herself back to her feet.  She had been quite firmly admonished about the dangers of removing the blindfold, and that it was likely to lead to a failed sacrifice and her maiming or death.

"Matroooon?" she called after her, but there was no response, and she wilted, all alone in what she knew was a dangerous forest… she could feel things moving, and turned quickly towards the sound, head twitching this way and that towards the rustle of leaves, her breathing quickening.

Finally she heard it, distant, a sweet song, just there at the edge of her hearing, and the rest of the forest seemed to fall still to listen around her.  She turned towards it, slowly orientating herself, and she stepped forwards, careful with her hooves, expecting more roots, or stones, but only finding soft loam.

A few more careful steps, and the path before her was surprisingly clear.  She stretched her arms out before her, and in the dense forest… the path was clear.  Her fingers brushed trees off to the sides, but before her there seemed to be a path.  After a few dozen paces, she slowly grew more confident, moving at a walk, though still not daring to rush, though she could still hear things in the forest, large things moving in the brush not far away.

.After walking for a few minutes the tune of the song changed to something livelier as Dancer drew closer to it, and with growing confidence, she let out a little laugh and sprung to a more lively trot, her hooves dancing along the soft loam in a quick pattern as she stepped high, quickening her pace.  

The voice seemed to float ahead of her, leading her along, staying just out of reach.  At one point the music paused, and Dancer stopped, listening, before hearing the voice from another direction.  She tilted her head and turned, orientating on the new source before with a little kick and laugh, started after it again.

She heard the babbling of a brook coming along her left side,and after a while the voice stopped again.  When it picked up, it was a very careful song from the direction of the brook.  She turned towards it, and took careful steps forwards, feeling wood under her hooves, and thinking she must be on a log bridge, carefully stepped over it until her feet were on the soft forest loam, when the voice moved away and picked up the beat of the song again.

And so the journey continued in darkness, where she could only hear and follow the voice, dancing along, trotting along, and moving carefully when the song urged her to, and never straying, wending her way deeper, and deeper into the lost places of the forest.

Finally as the day wore on into the afternoon, she felt the cool shade of the forest turn darker, and the song slowed.  She walked forwards towards the voice, and the voice was still finally, waiting for her.  FInally the song stopped, and the owner of the voice said in a gentle, feminine voice, "Welcome to my glade, come, don't be afraid, take my hand."

"Who are you?" Dancer asked, stepping forwards, and reaching her arms out blindly until she felt a warm hand slide into her own, and carefully guiding her forwards.

"They call me Shadow's Valor before the Rising Dawn, though you can just call me Valor, I am a dryad of the deep woods, and I will guide you and nurture you through these trials that away.  It will not be easy, and you will be different when you leave, but be strong, and you will survive," the voice promised her gently, a hand touching Dancer's cheek softly, before she resumed guiding the centaur.

"Step up over this," Valor told Dancer, "there light that, little more," guiding her hooves, "And laydown," as Dancer stepped over what felt like a large stone, and started to settle down, feeling the kiss of cool stone against her lower equine belly, keeping her legs from going down, but at the pressure on her shoulder, laying her front hooves down.

The stone was smooth, but kept her in an awkward position as Dancer's brow furrowed, "Whats going to happen? Why was I blindfolded?" she asked, squirming in place a moment, "And why am i laying like this?"

Valor's voice gave a soft laugh, "You'll find out most of the answers soon, and I don't wish to frighten you, so I will leave you to learn on your own.  As for the blindfold… there are creatures on the forest, they have frightened young fillies in the past while pacing them along the Path… as long as you are following the path, following me you are safe, but there have been… incidents in the past, where fillies have fled, and been mauled or killed… i don't want to see that happen, its bad for all sides," she murmured softly, sadly.

Dancer let out a little, 'Oh,' hoping for more information, but a little shiver running through her at the talk of the beasts.  She felt Valor moving around her, and felt things sifting around her a bit, vines or ropes curling around her limbs, tightening, securing her, a thick one sliding over her back, restraining her, "Whats going on?" she asked with another hint of fear in her voice.

"Again, making sure you are safe… being vulnerable here is safety for you, you'll have to trust me, if you were to bolt or fight, it would end badly… now let me have your arm," Valor took Dancer's right arm, and held it off to the side, where Dancer felt one of these vines curling around her wrist, holding firm with her arm outstretched.  Then Valor took her other arm, and held it to the other side, binding her arms spread, leaving the young centaur filly fully bound down and helpless, before hands moved to the blindfold that Dancer wore, and gently removed it.

Dancer blinked, and looked around, her eyes going wide as a little 'wow' left her lips.  She found herself beneath the shade of a huge, black barked tree, crimson leaves fell like waterfalls from its branches, shrouding entire acres in a crimson twilight that sun never touched, speckled with golden flowers and fruit.  Softly glowing mosses covered the ground, with a myriad of jewel like flowers growing in every nook and cranny, while shards of light, fireflies and glowing humming birds flitted here and there around. 

Before her stood a beautiful creature, a black skinned and furred faun, though it looked like along her arms and back her skin rippled like bark.  Cloven hooves and a long tail graced the furred lower half, and large breasts, and a cascade of crimson hair drew the eye to the top, with a gentle expression and warm, glowing golden eyes.  Her crimson lips split in a warm smile, showing white teeth with slightly pronounced canines, "Welcome to my glade…" her smile broadening into a wicked, playful grin, winking at Dancer, "I get to have the first taste."

Dancer blinked up at Valor, brow furrowing in confusion, "t-Taste?" now she felt like she was going to be someones dinner! She struggled at her restraints, but found the roots and vines holding her were growing not just to loop around her, but growing into thick roots covering her hooves and lower legs, as well as her arms halfway up her forearms.

Valor let out a soft laugh and shook her head, "You fret too much sweetie," a golden nailed finger booping Dancer lightly on the nose, before she stepped forwards, ducking around the vines binding the filly's arms, and moving around behind her, her fingers trailing down Dancer's skin and over her fur on its way down her back.

Dancer gave a little huff, and a shiver with the dryad's fingers trailing down her back, "I think i'm fretting just enough, for being bound here so helplessly," she protests, her tail flicking, about the most movement she could manage.

Valor giggled, and nodded, "Mmm, perhaps," she murmurs, her hand sliding down Dancer's back and over her rump, before sliding down the back of her leg as Dancer glanced over her shoulder, before she gasped and stiffened, her back going straight as she felt the dryad's fingers slide between the lips of her vulva, her tail held straight up for a moment in surprise at the intimate and uninvited touch.

Valor's eyes sparkled as she watched Dancer's reaction, her fingers spreading, before withdrawing, coming back with two fingers glistening with the filly's heat induced arousal, maintaining eye contact with the young filly as she brought her fingers to her lips, and suckled them clean, making a show of it as she split her fingers with her tongue, and letting out a little pleased mmm.

Dancer's cheeks lit scarlet, blushing hard as she watched the dryad, looking away from that heated eye, then let out another sharp gasp as she felt the dryad's fingers part her netherlips again, letting out a little moan that she tried to stifle as she tried uselessly to kick her back feet, hissing, "stop that!"

Valor's fingers lingered a few moments, striking within the young filly's cunny, before drawing back, again glistening as she stepped around, a little thread of grool starting to drip slowly from the tips of her fingers, "Unfortunately my little sweetheart, you don't have the power to stop anything anymore," her voice gentle as she ducked around Dancer's bound arms, coming around before the filly again.

Dancer opened her mouth to protest, but Valor's hands moved quickly to grip Dancer's hair, tilting her head back, back and back, bending her back a little as her grip tightened, her other hand coming up as Dancer's lips parted with a little sound of pain, as Valor guided that drooling drop of grool to drop between Dancer's lips right on her tongue.

Feeling the warm drop of liquid and the salty, musky taste of her own arousal, Dancer closed her mouth as she wrinkled her nose, scrubbing her tongue against her teeth to try and escape the taste.  Valor's still very wet and slick fingers pressed against Dancer's lips, smearing the filly's own arousal across them, before giving a little tug to Dancer's hair, drawing another little whine of pain from her as she pressed her fingers between the filly's lips, pressing against her tongue even as it tried to evade her.

Dancer's nose wrinkled again, the heavy scent and taste of her own arousal being forced on her as she struggled helplessly in Valor's grip, letting out a little whine as her head was held back like that, Valor speaking up, "Close your lips, lick me clean," her voice softly commanded, like steel wrapped in velvet.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Dancer finally submitted to what the dryad wanted of her, closing her lips around those two fingers, her tongue working, licking between and around her fingers, cleaning every warm drop of her own arousal as her body shuddered, and her blush spread down over her chest, swallowing reluctantly, tasting just a hint of Valor's sweetness past her own salty musk.

Valor finally drew her wet fingers back, and leaned down, her own lips and tongue still carrying a shine of Dancer's arousal, and kissed Dancer at first softly, lips pressing, working, then her tongue came, growing more aggressive as it pressed between Dancer's lips, making her again taste the saltiness of her own arousal. 

Valor's tongue glided and teased around Dancer's, before pressing to the back of her mouth as the filly's eyes widened, making her gag as she fought the feeling, and Valor's tongue retreated a moment at the resistance.  Again her tongue pressed, drawing another round of coughing and gagging, and muffled sounds of protests from the young preteen filly, Valor drawing it out, making her suffer it for long seconds, before finally retreating.

Again Valor's tongue pressed forwards, and while Dancer was getting more used to it, she still gagged, then her eyes went wide, tearing as she felt the dryad's tongue pushing past her gagging and forcing its way down her throat, her body struggling as she tried to turn her head, unable to breathe past it, making little stifled helpless sounds.

Dancer felt the dryad's tongue pressing and sliding deeper, unsure how she had such a long tongue, but unable to resist it as it violated her throat, her body giving little jerks as she gagged, choking, her head quickly starting to spin from lack of air until darkness started to eat at the edge of her vision before Valor's tongue quickly withdrew, and the dryad broke the kiss, releasing Dancer's hair.

Dancer sagged forwards, coughing raggedly, a little drool running from her lips that Valor kindly wiped away with a pleased smile on her lips, bringing her other hand to brush over Dancer's forehead, "Such a sweet little thing," her fingers sliding down to softly pinch and lift the filly's chin, "I think the others are going to have such fun with you."

A rustling sound came at the edge of the glade, and Valor looked up for a moment, a smile splitting her lips again, as she stepped aside, "And our first guests arrive, welcome!" she greeted the forms as they stepped into view, as Dancer got her eyes to focus.

A hard sinking feeling filled her stomach, as she froze, seeing two nearly eight foot tall gnolls standing there, both wearing plated armor and leathers and tall polearms, the taller one the female, with heavy breasts if one were to judge from the breastplate, who let out a cackling laugh as she saw the filly's terrified expression, as their tribes were long in conflict and frequently mortal enemies.

"My my my, what a sweet little thing we have here, I think I could just eat her up," she growled, baring her jaw full of jagged, sharp teeth, before letting out another cackling laugh.