Kalderan Forest Part 7
#7 of Kalderan Forest
Falroth awoke with a rather strong headache. He rolled over in the bed to see his mate standing at the door with his back to him. There was a hushed conversation going on between the lion and the unseen person.
The hangover feeling he was enduring was the after-effects of the sickness, or at least as close to the real thing as he'd ever want to get. Falroth had learned of this rather harsh malady by seeing it first hand once. A fox had contracted it, and the sight of the creature was more than Falroth could stand. He had to spend a night with him, his ass quite sore the next day from the constant pounding it took that night. Getting fucked four times in a row for 12 hours was a bit much, even for him. Still, when he was relieved the fox clawed at him, the eyes of the afflicted like a vampire's gaze as it thirst for blood, or at least would look like that if vampires existed. The soft cries from the fox until his relief stepped over were heart-wrenching, scarring Falroth's psyche. The fox had needed care for two weeks straight, and he was force fed food to keep him alive, for he wouldn't eat on his own.
Shaking the memories away, the equine rolled a little more and the bed creaked under his weight. Devros stopped talking and turned around, a smile lighting his face at the sight of the newly arisen horse.
"You're up. That's good, it's almost noon," the lion spoke with tenderness.
"I'm sorry, I had to," Falroth replied inferring his need to get to the village without stopping for the sexual release he needed.
Devros stepped over, sitting done next to him and putting an arm around his shoulder. "I understand, it's OK."
Falroth lifted his head, nuzzling under the lion's chin. "You sore?"
"Only a little, but I'm used to horse cock."
"I wish I could remember the night, you don't take it that often."
The lion laughed a bit, "Oh, I took it all right."
A small flood of memories hit Falroth like a fist, remembering why he had come back to the village so quickly. "The canine, is...?"
"We're getting ready to make a raiding party. Don't worry, we'll get him and any of the others those bulls have."
Falroth lifted his head away, "When are we leaving," he asked with a sense of urgency.
"As soon as you are ready. We have the grapplers and snare-shoots prepared. We're doing a quick raid to get as many out as we can, including your little friend."
Falroth's features slackened a little, "Well, you'll like him. He's a husky, and a cute one too!" as if to defend himself for his urgency.
A gentle yet stern voice came from the door. Falroth realized the shaman was still standing at the door and listening, "We need to go soon, if we are to rescue your friend."
"Can you stand," Devros asked, getting to his feet and helping Falroth.
"Yeah, I can. I'll be fine," was his reply as he stood on slightly wobbly legs.
The wolf spoke again, "We'll be stopping at a cover tree at dark, and hopefully can make it near the bull camp by the following night. We'll have plenty of cover if we go in while it is dark." He stepped out of view.
"I made us some food packs for our trip, but first you eat something before we go."
Falroth nodded, and knew better than to disobey a request to eat from his mate.
* * * *
The raiding party was rather small, only sixteen members, but it would be enough. Darkthorn, the shaman and leader of the village, had been cultivating plants in the forest for longer than anyone else had been around. Using some of the techniques taught to him before his capture and release into this place, he was able to take leaf cuttings and grow certain plants, even give them special treatment to get out of them what he needed.
Being very much a non-violent personality, Darkthorn had discovered a few of the plants could be grown in such a way as to distill certain characteristics from them. Of the two he found useful for situations where violence might be necessary were grapplers and snare-shoots.
Almost all the plants reproduced a chemical similar to that used in the travel pods, and this air born molecule would react when inhaled to stimulate sexual need. The chemical would then imbed itself inside someone's scrotum, painlessly of course, and stimulate them to over-produce sperm and seminal fluids. If the need from this constantly inhaled (for lack of a better word) "pollen" was neglected, a build-up would occur causing the sickness. This sickness would last until all the excess pollen was ejected from the being, then leave the person with a mild to acute hangover. Though normally not fatal, it can cause insanity and then death if not properly attended to.
A grappler was pruned from a specific type of tree, one that usually ensnared it's victims with prehensile vines. By growing the tree and pruning the vines as a sapling, the vines could be fed and nurtured by the soil, water and other fluids. It would then want to latch onto a person, wrap around their legs and then start sucking on their dicks from a flexible and flaring tip. This vine had a potent form of the pollen, which it could imbue into its victim through the skin. This would cause an instant and undeniable lust, with the point of the pollen's transfusion through the root of the scrotum, thus insuring that the pollen had a 50/50 chance of going directly where it needed to. The effects were instant, and normally the vine would stay latched on, forcing sexual pleasure for two to three ejaculations, occasionally more.
A snare-shoot, on the other hand, worked a little differently. It was clipped from the mouth-seeking vines, those that sought to invade the oral regions to secrete fluids into. Alone, it was a very useful tool, wiggling along the ground to the nearest warm body, coiling and then springing upwards, wrapping around the head, muzzle or neck. It would then thrusting into the mouth of the victim. Being relentless, it would do this until the victim opened their mouth, thereby letting the bulging tip inside to secrete its honey-like fluids (laced with the oh-so-popular pollen). It would instantly drive anyone into a lust-crazed beast, ready to throw down the nearest body and fuck them.
Darkthorn was quite proud of this and other discoveries he had made, and was sure they would work well in the days ahead. He had made thick satchels with which to place these into, ones that could be thrown a distance and would open up upon hitting the ground. Attempting to throw any of these vine by hand would get the wielder caught, defeating the whole purpose.
Each member of the party had a satchel and they were instructed on proper usage before they left. All had known quite well how to use them from when they had trained throwing bags at each other (with interesting little fuck-fests occurring after each session.)
They set off, walking in pairs into the forest, with the lion and equine pair somewhere near the front. The warm air was already biting at their libidos, all except for Falroth who had gotten more than his fill the night before.
A group this size was not without its dangers as they trounced through the forest. Darkthorn was wary, keeping an ear out for anything that might pose a threat to them.
A soft giggling came from behind Devros. He turned as he marched forward, glaring at a somewhat short and stout bunny who was trying to hold a straight face.
"What?" the lion asked, knowing full well he would have been better to remain silent.
A buck-toothed muffled voice came from the bunny, "Oh, um, I was just betting Nathan how many times you were, umm, enjoyed last night."
"That, Warren, is not of any concern to you."
The bunny next to him smirked and said, "Yup, more than four, you owe me Warren."
Devros growled a little, turning his head back to ignore the two, now suddenly quite self-conscious of what his tail-hole might look like, all stretched out from his mate.
"Damn," Warren said, stifling another laugh.
Falroth looked to his mate, smirking. Devros returned the gesture and grinned back, his mane hiding his smirk and keeping the annoyed façade to the bunnies behind them.
The large canopy was a welcome sight for everyone in the group, stretching out before them as they closed in on the tangled vines hanging from the canopy.
"Ugh, finally," someone from the front said as Darkthorn let the first four people go under the tree. Falroth and Devroth watched the four get entangled and pulled upwards, only to hear soft slurping sound and then moans a second later.
"Next four," Darkthorn said, motioning the next onwards. Falroth and Devros stayed close as they walked under the vines, getting ensnared and being pulled up through the thick canopy.
The feeling was like being gripped and lifted by a giant. The many vines began to snake around them, depositing the two near each other. They held them still while the feeder vines sought out their hosts.
One slipped onto Falroth's now hardening shaft, the lust growing inside him as the vines held him down. A loud purring rumble came from his left side, a feeder vine having found the leonine cock of his mate.
Vines gripped and tugged on both the lover's shafts, the touch helping to insight an already strong lust-filled need.. Locked away from each others' members was slight annoyance, though a welcome one from Devros' point of view (even if he would never mention it due to last night's activities.) The leaves held them up, branches holding firmly as more and more were brought upwards into the canopy.
Equine lips met feline tongue, the lovers embracing with Devros atop Falroth. The equine lifting his legs and letting his mate mount him even though the vines prevented penetration. Locked in a playful embrace, they enjoyed each other's taste while the vines carefully orchestrated their manipulations of the cocks they fed upon.
The taste of his lover's prickly tongue was divine. Falroth sucked and nibbled it eagerly as golden furred hands gripped behind his neck, pushing him harder into the kiss.
Devros pulled his mouth back, leaning his head down to tickle and nibble the crook of the equine's neck. A spot he knew to be quite sensitive. Falroth's moan filtered into a whickering call, which was drowned out by the many other moans and calls of lust around them.
A wolf howled softly near them, the knotted cock spitting forth cum in payment for the plant's protection, one given eagerly and without regret. The sound urged the lover's embrace to tighten, the lion biting down a little harder and driving his beloved mate into an orgasmic spasm.
Falroth emptied his full load into the plant, fingers gripping tightly the body it held. His hips bucked up against his mate, the sensations it caused were muted through the vine's length. The green protrusion from the plant held fast as it drained him of all the fluids he would give.
"ummm, Ungh, My love...!" the lion said before his own hips jerked and shuddered, the short-barbed cock sticking lightly into the vine. It tugged and stroked him regardless of the sharp protrusions. The lion's release was heaven, holding the musky horse while arms gripped around him tightly until the orgasm eased and then stopped. The vines pulled and squeezed lightly around their shafts, gently pulling as much cum from them before resting until the next feeding.
* * * *
Outside the tree, a lone bull stood there. He had been downwind of the small squad from the village when he heard them and followed. The sounds from the cover tree above were torture to his ears, longing to go under the canopy and join them. Instead he sat down against a nearby tree, gripping his cock and jerking it roughly. He clamped his mouth shut tightly as he sprayed into the air, the cum spraying in small arcs as he listened to the sounds of bliss above. He did not want to make his presence known.