Sorry for the wait!

"Honeypaw. Honeypaw, wake up!"

Icestream's silvery but pleasant voice rang through the empty apprentice's den, and Honeypaw stirred feebly. Even with all of the sleep, yesterday was particularly exhausting. She loved her new life, but sometimes, she loved sleep even more.

"Coming," she replied, her voice weak in the morning, and stood up. She stretched out first before starting to make her way toward the entrance. She made care to avoid the other apprentice's nests. There was Sandpaw, her brother, of course, and Smokepaw.

Smokepaw was a nice young tom, not much older than Honeypaw and Sandpaw, in fact. He was about a quarter moon older, and she vaguely remembered him from their time in the nursery. He was relatively quiet, but he was definitely not shy. Rather, he had a strong and leader-like aura around him, and Honeypaw respected, even admired him.

Honeypaw bounded out of the den before Icestream could urge her out any longer. There Icestream was, and the only sign of impatience was the tip of her tail flicking back and forth. "Sorry," Honeypaw apologized, but it didn't seem very necessary. Her mentor's face brightened up considerably at the sight of the cream and white apprentice.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, annoyance gone. Honeypaw already really liked her mentor. "Today, we're going to go over the history of LakeClan and MoorClan... We'll have a little fun in the evening, don't worry," she added. Honeypaw couldn't help but notice the happy little spark in her eyes. "You'll find that history is interesting, anyway. Now, let's go."

The camp, of course was designed to fit all that was required, so some would say it was comfortably roomy. There were six dens nuzzled close together in the far side of the camp, dug in the sandy yet firm hills that faced against the lake. The lake itself was behind the hills, so that if the lake flooded, the hills would block most of it out. The fresh-kill pile was located near the dens. The rest of the space was used for what they were best at: mating. Two cats were already mating now. Particular toys were even hidden among the camp; they could even be found in clumps in nooks and crannies all over the territory! The slaves' den was located in the love area.

"Now, long ago, they didn't appreciate mating here, out in the open," Icestream began, walking slowly but out of the territory. She made a face as she made the first few words. "So Shellsplash and Hareleap didn't very much appreciate it. So, they left from their four Clans along the lake, gathering some followers along the way. It was dangerous, yes, but eventually, they made it here. You see, Shellsplash and Hareleap didn't very like each other, either. Who knows why. Apparently they had the same idea when they left, and met together along the road." Icestream shrugged. "Well, they traveled together, safety in numbers, you know. They made their own culture along the way, which is similar, the same, even, to the warrior code today."

Honeypaw nodded along the way to show her acknowledgement. Her mother had told her stories about this, but it was nice to hear it again. Anyway, this would be useful if she was to have an apprentice, especially if she was to have kits. She hoped she would, she knew about the rest of their everyday life...

"When they arrived, they separated. Shellsplash founded LakeClan, and Hareleap founded MoorClan, where they would literally mate in the open." She rolled her eyes. "Now, we start with everyday life. Where to start, where to start? You know what, let's go back to the camp."

Honeypaw gave another nod and turned back around to the camp. She could tolerate this, but then again, she was usually content with everything.

"Now, the slaves, that's a good place to start," she heard Icestream murmur. "Honeypaw, have you noticed that some cats don't have warrior names?"

She couldn't help but nod again. "Why not?"

"That means those cats were once kittypets. Some were stolen away, but you had to make sure first that they wouldn't be able to get kits."

"Not able to get kits?" she repeated, surprised.

"Yes, I know," Icestream agreed, in an amused disgust. "It's disgusting. But convenient. They could be used as slaves. When heat season comes around, we'll be able to work on them. They could be used for medicine cats as well. It was once part of the warrior code that medicine cats were not to have kits, but since this is a mating clan, this is sort of difficult. So, we had kittypets." She grinned, proud of their ancestors' logic. "Would you like to take a visit to the slaves?"

It was a rhetorical question, because Icestream had already padded off. Honeypaw followed. She had heard about the slaves, but never that they're fertile. Silly Twolegs. They could be treated however you want, which is about the only way they're different from the Clan. They are treated medicine and food, as a sickly, starving cat is not pleasant to love with.

The salty, slightly bitter scent of cum and blood wafted in to greet them. Bluestep, a large gray tom, already took a spot on a pretty golden tabby, but they paid no attention to their presence. It was quite normal to walk in on a pair, as long as it's not the new moon week. But that'll be explained later.

Honeypaw couldn't help but stroke her own glazed core softly. It was a nice show ahead of them. Bluestep was humping powerful strokes into the tabby she-cat, and even his grip on her neck couldn't muffle his moans. She could see his large member slick with their pale juices, and below him, the tabby, Ginger, was screaming screams of pain and pleasure. The slaves were used to it; they were to do everything they were told. But they could still feel the pain of their imprisonment.

She could almost feel Bluestep's strong, hard cock driving into her ow virgin pussy, breaking apart her hymen and driving deep into tunnels she never new existing. She was under Bluestep and not Ginger, his cock pounding into her mercilessly, his balls slapping against her thighs.

Even she could see the tightening up of their muscles as Bluestep came with a wave of ecstasy washing over him, and soon, over Ginger too. His body clenched as he came hard into the she-cat, his cock pounding waves and waves of milky cum. Ginger let out a cry of indescribable pleasure, her claws digging harshly into the ground as she felt the warm, thick liquid coating her walls.

"Icestream, when would I be able to do that?" Honeypaw breathed, excited that this will be her future.

"Soon."