Springtime for Sileon

A Silky Fantasy Adventure

Wisps of fog drifted between the trees of our Mountain. With the different hues of light from all three moons, it looked as though pieces of rainbows had been torn and hung like Spanish moss in the forest. Rainbows with colors all the way from deep infrared to far ultraviolet of course since those are the colors my predator eyes can see. I am a Silkeon, a red furred and green eyed warrior, small but fierce. I paused at the icy waters of a mountain spring and licked delicately until my thirst was slaked.

Ka-boing-boing

I held my snout high and snuffled the air, searching for the scent of Poon Tang. This was my mission: to take seed from an Egroeg, mix it with my enzymes, and force the resulting snowball into the anterior pouch of a Poon Tang, to propagate dungees. The spring flowers brightened up the forest; flutter birds tweaked and whistled up in the trees. It was breeding season. One thing concerned me. I continued to feel small tremors in the ground. Were we going to have another spring time mudslide? The distant sounds seemed like rhythmic drumbeats, perhaps a waterfall.

Ka-boing-boing

I am famous among other Silkeons for my ability to take huge loads of seed from Egroegs, even gigantic ones with really big swollen horns covered with pulsing veins and capped with purple mushroom heads. My luck has not been so good on this hunt, for although the scent of Poon Tang seems to hang everywhere, a miasma twin of the fog, I have not been able to locate any Egroegs worth my efforts.

Ka-boing-boing

For the last 24 cycles of the menstrual moon, I have been selectively implanting a silver haired Poon Tang that lives on our Mountain. I'm not sure why I have selected her as she is not the best specimen. Not that any tangs are worth much; this one has small feeding mounds, freakishly long hind legs, and has lost most of the hair around her lower pouches. The hair has perhaps been worn away by Egroeg horns as when she is not sleeping she seems to always be clasped onto a rigid bone in one orifice or another.

Ka-boing-boing

I paced the perimeter of the mountain but found no prey. I climbed the bumpy inclines to the very peak of the mountain, but searched in vain. I started towards mallspace but as I went away from the mountain the scent weakened so I returned. I had also fallen into the habit of using the same Egroeg for seeds. A very healthy specimen, his very long and very thick horn gleamed with the sticky fluids that oozed from its tip.

Ka-boing-boing

I decided to carefully and systematically search every cave on the mountain. If we were having mudslides I could be trapped but my sacred duty demands that I to suck seeds and make snowballs. The first dozen caves showed no signs of recent life; only scattered bits of fur and tree limbs and paw covers and stinky panties made me sure the Poon Tang had been there but her scent was not fresh in any room.

Ka-boing-boing

Finally I entered a chamber that had been vacant for years. In it I found both the Poon Tang and the Egroeg. He had his large abergine diaphysis forced completely into her excretion chute! Now the horns of a seed maker are vascular and swell with blood when he is concupiscent. Wrapping something tightly around the base of the ossein can make it stay swollen and hard; as in this situation where the Poon Tang's excretion chute was so tight around his seed spike that they were 'locked' together. In their frantic movements to get free he had been smashing her head repeatedly against a small springy hedge making a vibration that sounded like bed-springs, Ka-boing-boing.

Not a drama queen, still I knew this was an urgent problem. Not only did the pain make them both half crazed, but his large rack would soon cause permanent damage to her channel. Also his horn might not recover from being held so tightly. I could lose both of my favorite partners at one time!

As quickly as I could spring on the wildly gyrating pair I did, and ran my paw down to the base of his knob. I then took one of my claws and forced it into her excretion chute beside his shaft.

"Sil ky, goaw ay!" She screamed in pain!

I knew however, that this was the only way to save them unless I could somehow carry them both to the brook and spray them with cold water. I didn't see how that could happen.

Of course the Poon Tang resisted and my fingers squirted back out. Again I clawed into her tissue and forced my fingers hair by hair into her chute. When I could get past the tight ring of muscle I pulled as hard as only a silkeon can pull and stretched her ring a snail's width. This eased the pressure on the Egroeg's spike and let enough blood flow out that it deflated a tiny amount. Although the Tang was still in great pain her muscle could start to relax and his tube could get even softer.

With a great 'plop' sound he slid out of her chute and they were separated. Both remained in agony. I quickly triaged the situation and decided on the needed action. Egroeg had been so stimulated that his seed sacks were bigger than magnolia blossoms in the spring. I quickly grasped his horn and licked it to calm the inflammation. I took the large mushroom head and put it completely in my upper pouch and licked my tongue all around and up and down the head. I used my lips to smooth its flesh.

I could see the great veins pulsing along its length and I watched his seed sacks bounce as if on springs. I moved my entire head up and down over the tip of his breeder and he snorted great animal sounds as he got relief.

He roared, "Th atw asforJ ess'sa ss,no tabl owj ob!"

Globule after globule of thick hot gelatinous seed spurted into my pouch. If I could only save it, it would be a record breaking snowball. But this was a crisis and so I sadly swallowed mouthful after mouthful of his spunk.

Then I wheeled around and grabbed the delirious Poon Tang. I sprang onto her and shoved my face between her hind legs under her tail and began to gently lubricate her distorted and torn chute.

At first she bellowed, "Gett heHe llaw ay fr ommebi tch!"

I ran my long tongue in and out slowly and worked saliva all around her reddened exit. She was so stretched that my tongue went an arm's length inside her, but as she relaxed and began to purr her muscles sprang back down on my tongue and as I licked around her swollen area she gave a great caterwauling scream and fainted away, spent and relaxed at last.

When I think of the cuteness of dungees, and what a litter of five or six would look like crawling around with their eyes closed pushing their little noses against their mother's feeding mounds looking for milk I am sad that I could not make better use of the snowball that I swallowed. And scratching behind their ears! So Sweet! However life does not always go as one could wish. At least this fierce Silkeon was able to save both her favorite Poon Tang and her Egroeg in this spring mating season.

Next time perhaps they will not be foolish enough to do this; however, Egroegs will put their horn in anything they can shove it in and Poon Tangs have been known spring on anything with a hard stick and put it anywhere in their bodies.

We Silkeons have to remain vigilant.