White Scut

Copyright Oggbashan October 2002/April 2003 The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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It was the evening of a long sunny April day. Spring had come and the birds and animals knew it. Mating rituals were almost more important than feeding. All around males were displaying for the interested females and for those who weren't interested - yet.

The competition was fierce. Only favoured males could mate. For rabbits the social order was just as strong as in other species. A rabbit had to be big, strong and dominant to succeed with a female. The biggest buck mounted the majority of the does. Only when he tired, if he did, would other big bucks have any opportunity. Rabbits being rabbits, the dominant buck did not tire easily.

Small male rabbits had to remain unmated. That was the rabbit way. Small buck rabbits did not become fathers. Not that any buck was a good father. Love them and leave them was the buck rabbit's motto. The leader might appreciate having a large group of rabbits but whether the kittens were his or not he didn't care.

The young buck rabbit twitched his nose in the gathering dark. He was very small and only just old enough to want to mate with a doe rabbit. He'd have little chance until he grew big enough to take on other bucks, if he ever grew that big. He had been the runt of the litter and probably his whole life would be mateless, always shoved aside by bigger rabbits.

He could smell a faint scent of a doe on heat. His instincts took over. He lolloped along towards the edge of the forest. There ahead of him it was almost completely dark but the scent was stronger. His nose twitched frantically as he searched for the source of the scent. A doe on heat this far from the warren might be receptive to anyone, even a buck as small as him. His excitement became unbearable as the scent grew stronger.

Then he saw the unmistakable sign of a rabbit. There in the gloom ahead of him was a raised white scut. The female must be waiting for him with her scut in the air to guide him. Caution took over for a few seconds as he remembered the harsh lessons given to him by the bigger bucks. He didn't want to be pounded to the ground again and again. He crept forward, his nose extended to search for the presence of another male. There was nothing but the arousing scent of the female.

The raised scut was very close quivering in the dark. Above it was a spreading bush. Beside it was a tree stump. Very slowly he edged forward until his nose was nearly touching the receptive hole below the scut. The scent was driving him beyond endurance. Was there another male in the bush or behind the stump? Even if he paid for it with his life he had to mount this female. His nose touched the entrance very carefully. The scent was bliss. This would be his first time. He pushed his nose harder against the female to tell her he was there and ready to serve her. She pushed back and his nose sank into her warm wet hole.

Then he was swept sideways as she hit his flank with a hind leg. He squealed in frustrated rage as his butt hit the tree stump. His squeal was cut short as her heavy body rammed back against him and his head was swallowed inside her. His ears were flattened against his head. His nose and mouth were filled by her secretions and as he began to suffocate inside her he felt her muscles clamp around his head and pull him inexorably further in to her warm dark inside. His body jerked as his virgin sperm sprayed from him uselessly to the ground.

His hind legs scrabbled to resist her pull but the tree stump against his rump stopped his retreat. She pushed back steadily against his braced rump and his shoulders slid after his head. Then his fore legs were bent backwards and followed his head and shoulders being drawn deep inside her by her pulsating muscles. His hind legs still lashed furiously but now they were waving in the air as she raised her rump to lift him off the ground. The legs shook in a final dying convulsion as they were extended behind him. Then they were still as they slithered silently in after the rest of his dead body. The hole closed after them.

The vixen curled her body to nose the bloody scut off her brush. It fell unheeded to the leaf littered earth. She licked her brush clean of the doe's blood before lowering it. She trotted off with her distended belly swaying beneath her. It had been a good night's hunting.

Back at her den she vomited the remains of the doe to feed her cubs. Her stomach had been filled to capacity. There had been no room there for the buck.

She strained to give birth to the buck. She felt almost the joy she had experienced as her cubs had been born. She licked her juices off the lifeless body. When clean the buck smelt like a meal. The doe had made a good meal for her cubs. She could feed peacefully on the buck while her sated cubs slept.

Vaguely she wondered why a rabbit had tried to mount a vixen. It didn't matter. Food was more important. Her strong jaws crunched through his body. An uninterrupted meal was bliss.