Silkeon Travels

I am a silkeon, a red furred and green eyed warrior, small but fierce. While I have had many adventures hunting for poon-tang and Egroegs, few have been stranger than the time I traveled to a distant part of our world and found a GayEgroeg.

In the usual flow of life, I scour the jungle looking for the smelly poon tangi, especially the silver haired kind, so that I can take seed from Egroegs and place it in a tang's lower pouch to allow her to breed dungees. Seed placed directly by an Egroeg is sterile, and requires my enzymes to flower.

I usually stay in my territory in the jungle, and use local Egroeg's and tangi; but once, long, long ago, I was forced by grief to leave my territory and hunt in strange lands. Silkeons are rare, but I am not the only one in the worlds. When we meet it is usually for fierce battle, as we try to be the only maker of snowballs in our territory.

In that distant time I was unaware of my powers and thought that many poon tangi could suck seed better than I. Other Egroegs tried to get me to fasten my pouches on their horny horns. They wanted any pouch, or even my excretion chute. Many of them tried to rub pouches with me, and tried mightily to trick me into taking their seed, one way or another. They would put paws on my feeding mounds, and then try for more. I knew they only had five paws, but it seemed at times as if they had a dozen.

One Egroegs was called "Qua terb a'ck." He was a golden Egroeg, powerfully muscled, with thews that made many poon tangi and even some Silkeons suck his seed. The troubadours sang of his having squirted seed into a hundred paws, fifty upper pouches, twenty lower pouches, and even a poon tangi excretion chute! At the time, I thought this a jest, as horns are much bigger than chutes.

Qua terb a'ck saw me from a distance, and admired the way my feeding mounds had grown like fruit from a magical tree. He noted the perfection of my powerful tail muscles as they twitched, and the poutiness of my upper pouch's lips. His horn grew purple and his seed sacks swelled as the peered at me, and he smelled my pheromones. He decided to put seed in me, as if any Egroeg could do that without my desire!

"Whuzp?" he roared at me. He was very sure of himself.

"Nuttinmuch!" I responded. My heart beat fast, for he was very big.

Soon we danced around each other, he looking to tame me, I to boost my reputation as a warrior. We circled each other, looking for an opening. He pawed my tail, I fought. He pawed my mounds, I fought. He rubbed pouches with me, trying to distract me, and grabbed my mounds again. This was very distracting! My lower pouch opened of its own will, and began to make mating juice. I struggled, and fought him off again.

Then he began to lick my third ear. That made my feeding mounds hard, and it was very difficult to not allow exploratory dalliance. I made more mating juice, but I was determined not to suck his seed until I chose to do so. His talons were covered with carmine as my red fur slipped between them, and he began to force my head to his horn.

I would not be forced! I am a Silkeon, and we do not submit! I slipped from his grasp, and pushed him away, panting for breath.

I wailed "Nooooo noooo noooo!" a sound that scares most Egroegs, but not this massive male.

I had to use all my mighty muscles to prevent his paws from holding my pouch open for his horn. Finally I slashed his snout with my farouche claws, and he bellowed in pain, but he let go.

I could not tell if my pulse was fast from anger, fear, or lust, but it was fast, and I felt all those things. My mounds wanted to be bitten, my pouches wanted his seed, I feared he would rip me open with his abergine hardness, but I was a warrior, not a SkankHo.

I gasped for air, and roared, "Tak eme ho me!"

Later I learned that the ballads might ring false, for I learned that Qua terb a'ck's admirers had added a verse to his praises, cantillating of his conquest of a mighty Silkeon, and how she had begged for his seed, and he had poured it first into her upper pouch, and let it overflow onto her mounds; yet she had begged for more, and coaxed him into shooting into her lower pouch three times. Then he had finally succumbed to her piteous mewling and given her a full load in her excretion chute.

She was, they said, eager for seed from any Egroeg, but her pouches were so loose that many would find her boring.

This they said of ME!

Silkeons do not cry, we do not wail and throw rocks and tree limbs.... But I had to work hard to focus on those facts, for indeed I wanted to do those things. I flew to mallspace, and paced the caverns; it was no good, I could not focus.

Even mighty warriors need to know when a strategic retreat is needed. I went away for a while.... To have stayed would have resulted in a certain Egroeg's getting parts of his reproductive equipment cut off with a rusty razor, or perhaps accidently being burned up by lightening.

When I arrived on Planet Hollywood, I thought I would be able to re-focus, and again look for poon-tangi and Egroegs. Apparently Planet Hollywood is very different from the rest of the worlds. At first I roared happy sounds, for there were many paw covers in many mallspaces there. But I learned that I could not go to them.

Supposedly the Number Gods rule Planet Hollywood, and creatures pray to them every time one of the Suns rise.

They beseech piously, saying, "Letthe Five becl ear tod ay."

They cannot move from place to place without this.

The Great Search for snowballs, the main activity of my world, is ignored there. All the wild monsters there search for "gigs," though I never learned the manner or need for these. All the devils there watched the moons rise and set and counted every one of them; they feared the passing of any moon for they believed they aged faster than other life forms, and pondered age constantly.

Many of them carefully scraped tinder from tree bark into their breathing slits, and then talkedfastforalongtime. I did not wish do that; anyway, they would not let a poor Silkeon join in any rhinoid games.

So what could I do? I was clearly the most beautiful and sexual individual on the Planet. I was not emaciated as many of their poon tangi were; I did not desire Gigs. I wanted to suck seed and put snowballs in tangi pouches to make dungees.

Then one smoggy Hollywood night, I met an Egroeg who was very beautiful. He was large, and had many muscles, and his belly looked like a seven-pack. I decided to suck his seed, and rubbed my mounds on him to prepare him. I wafted pheromones in his face to make his horn swell.

Nothing happened! I tried again, careful to let him see the shape of my lower pouches, which have been said to look like the toe of a camel. I even put a paw on his horn, but it was shriveled and dead! Was this a strange disease of Planet Hollywood?

He put his large teeth close to my eyes; I was afraid he would attack, but instead he growled, "ImGay. ImGay."

Apparently, this meant he sucked seed from other Egroegs! Where did the baby dungees come from?

I did have a thought, however. This GayEgroeg was very big, and very strong. I feinted as if I were prey, and he chased me; I ran all the way to Qua terb a'ck, and then hid. The GayEgroeg immediately smelled the other pompous male feathers, and began the chest bump dance. Soon they were locked into a mighty struggle for dominance, but Qua terb a'ck did not realize he was risking having his seed sack emptied. The GayEgroeg threw him down, and began to maul him.

I threw my head back and hooted in my loudest call, "Qua terb a'ck isGay!"

Other denizens of the jungle heard, and they sniffed around, and found the GayEgroeg and Qua terb a'ck with each other's horn locked tight in their upper pouches. Now all believed he was a GayEgroeg, and so I was vindicated.

No Creature could put seed in my pouches unless I wanted it. I gnashed my fangs at Qua terb a'ck, and screamed, "Fu cku fag!" pawed dirt in his eyes, and went back to my home mountain.