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Milking Responsibilities

for Heru

by Draconicon

Sava shook his head as he stepped out of the tent. The rest of the tribe, those that hadn't already assembled at the far side of the village, were milling around his tent. The cheetah stepped out, only to be stopped immediately by one of the newly-adult males.

"Shaman, I was wondering -"

"No, you can't be the one to provide the sacred seed."

"But I'm a warrior now! I can do it."

"But you are not a strong warrior yet. Go; I'll bring the potions when they're ready."

The cheetah patted the young warrior on his back, and waited until the scrawny feline had left. It was always that way; whenever war or scouting tasks loomed on the horizon, there were always some younger men that wanted to be part of the ritual. Sava always turned them down, despite having a few temptations himself with some of them. Even the one he'd just sent away had a pretty good body, and the cheetah knew that he would have had fun with him.

But now, it had to be done with the right warrior. Anyone less than the strongest risked weakening those around him, and then the whole ritual would be ruined. It would be fun to play with the others, but not at the cost of weakening the tribe.

So Sava walked towards the far end of the village, tapping his walking stick as he moved along. His mind was already on the ritual, going through the different steps, preparing himself for what he'd need to do. Though there was no risk to anyone in doing it, it was still something that had to be done right. And he had long since lost much of his fascination with the warrior that would be his partner for the ritual, which didn't help.

Soon enough, he was outside the village and standing beside the large bull that was the tribe's best warrior. Sava waved at the gathered group, and then gestured for his apprentices to come forward. They carried basins of wood in their hands, and they knelt before the warrior, ready to collect what Sava would harvest.

The cheetah turned his attention back to the bull, and pulled a smile on his face.

"I already know the answer, old friend, but are you ready to give your sacred seed to make our warriors the best that they can be?"

"Of course...as long as you trimmed your claws a bit."

Sava sighed, holding up his hand. Three of his fingers were trimmed down, the claws brought down to little more than a miniature stump along the end of them. Old Gera nodded his head, putting his hands up and behind his head.

"Then let's get started, hmm? I don't think we have a great deal of time."

"That's true."

He did have to get this done somewhat quickly; the Rolling River tribe would be marching down the plains as they spoke. With luck, they'd have two days to prepare, but it could be as little as one. So they couldn't spend as much time on this as he'd like.

"I do have to make sure that you're of a sufficient strength, though. Please, have patience, my friend."

The bull nodded as the cheetah went behind the bull and knelt down. He had no need to check the bull's crotch; after all, he had seen the bull having his fun with a younger warrior just the day before. No, he had something else to check.

A secret that few people knew was that the scent from behind was one that told as much about masculinity as the scent from the front. Sava had learned this from his master, and his master had learned it from the master before him. A proper warrior, a powerful one, a real masculine man, was one that smelled of musk, of a bitter sweat, and a powerful heat from behind; anyone else was a weaker version of what was needed.

The cheetah gently lifted the bull's tail, looking over the ass cheeks presented to him. The large rump was just big enough to jiggle at the touch, but too firm to do it for long. Sava nodded in approval at that, and ran his hands over each cheek. They pulled along with his touch, spreading slightly, but always clapped back together as the strong muscles reacted.

He lowered his head further, letting the bull's tail rest atop of him, as he slowly parted the cheeks completely. The fatty parts filled his hands, but the muscle beneath made him have to struggle to keep them apart completely. The feline held his nose near the hole, and took a few small sniffs.

The scent was still there, just as he'd hoped. A hot, almost salty musk wafted off of the flesh, and with it came the smell of a hard day's work, of the bitter sweat that he was looking for. The cheetah nodded to himself, and leaned in to sniff deeper, smelling around the hole.

There, the smell of heat. It was a hot, sharp smell, something that only occurred around one's rim, and even then, only in the males that were in good shape. The shaman smiled to himself as he pulled his head back, nodding in approval.

"You are still good enough for this, Gera. You will be milked for the potions tonight."

"Heh, I was hoping I was still good enough for that. It's been a while."

"I'm sure your body remembers."

"I know one part does."

I'm sure, the shaman thought, already imagining the bull's cock springing out from beneath his loincloth. He settled in place on his knees, rummaging through a couple of bags for what he wanted.

"Make sure that you do not touch yourself. The sacred seed must be milked from behind, not taken by yourself."

"Yes, yes, Sava, we've done this before."

"Yes, but you're older now. And you will have a little...help."

The shaman poured a paste over his fingers, and rubbed them together until it had dissolved into a layer of goo over his fingers. It left him looking rather green on those three digits, but it couldn't be helped. While Sava was still strong, he needed some help at his age to be able to produce enough for the potions.

Without further ado, he shoved his fingers up the bull's hole. Gera jumped, but the cheetah's arm followed him up, fingering him hard and fast. The bull started panting almost immediately, his cock slapping up against his stomach as the goo started to dissolve inside of him.

That's it. Just let it happen, Gera, he thought as he rubbed his fingers against that little nub, rubbing the goo in. Let the Rock-Flower take you to new heights.

Soon, the bull was thrusting back on his hand, fucking himself on the cheetah's three fingers inside of him. Sava turned his hand, scissoring his fingers back and forth to tease and taunt the bull, and he smiled as the big warrior started moaning, almost mooing in the intensity of his arousal. The cheetah had forgotten how quickly the bigger guy tended to get turned on, and the herb was definitely making it happen faster.

"Raise the basins."

The apprentices were quick to lift the bowls, and not before time, either. The bull moaned out loud, and came buckets as the cheetah curled his fingers inside that loose hole. It was the first of many, the cheetah was sure; the rock flower would make sure of that.

Still, it was quite impressive to watch the white geyser erupt from Gera's cock, spurting all over the place and only getting about half of the load into the bowls. He shook his head at the waste, seeing it land on the ground. That first load should have filled more than half of one of the basins, and looking down there, it looked like it had barely gotten a quarter in one.

"You splattered that one everywhere."

"It was the first one. There'll be more."

"Yes, but you're supposed to be a good warrior. Show some more control."

"Fine, fine. I'll do my best."

He shook his head. Flippant as ever, Gera was. He never seemed to grasp the importance of doing this right, of not squandering resources. Maybe next time he would look for someone a bit better; there had to be someone near Gera's level by now, and if there wasn't, maybe he could find someone to get trained for it.

Still, for the moment, the bull was all he had to work with, so he would do what he could. He knelt down, pulling another small bit of paste out. This one he applied to his tongue, rubbing it on in a little dab of blue over the tip of it.

This time, Gera was ready, even reaching back and pulling his ass cheeks apart for the shaman. The cheetah smiled and slipped between them, rubbing his tongue against the hole directly. He dragged it up and down, flicking his tongue over the rim, and then into it. He didn't fear the rock-flower; he'd already distributed that a bit too deeply to casually lick it up, and besides, he'd long since grown immune to it. Even the Burning Root on his tongue wouldn't affect him, not without something sliding into him.

He slid his tongue inside of that hole, pushing it in and out, tongue-fucking the big bull. The blue smeared all over the rim itself, and as he pulled back and before the hole closed up again, Sava could see blue smearing around inside as well. The bull moaned above him, and he smiled, pressing his hands to Gera's thighs gently.

He kept up the rimming, alternating between simple licks and sliding his tongue up that hot hole, each time finding it just a little bit easier. The bull quivered above him, and the cheetah pushed himself harder, faster. He licked up and down the ass crack, over the rim. The hole stretched with his tongue with each lick, getting more relaxed, and more importantly, more sensitive.

Sava could just barely see the drip drip drip of the bull's pre on the ground, and he smiled as he pulled back, giving one last lick from taint to hole to the base of Gera's tail. He slowly pulled his head back, and rubbed a single finger around the rim of the bull's hole, much to the warrior's obvious love and delight.

"Are you ready to blow another load?"

"Sava, if you don't put something in me, I'm going to grab one of your apprentices and ride their cock until tomorrow."

"Are you ready to blow another load?"

"Yes! Now put something in me!"

The shaman chuckled, reaching down and pulling out a carved piece of ivory. It was a traditional piece, something that had been used for a long time. Usually, a shaman only used the tool when they could no longer get it up themselves. For Sava, he preferred to keep himself apart, and after so long, he would have needed herbs himself to get it up. So, it was the tool, or it was nothing.

He slid the fake cock into the bull, and right then and there, Gera came again. It wasn't so large as the last, but it was still prodigious, and since it was aimed right, it left one bowl nearly full, in combination with the first orgasm.

But there was much more to do. The warrior went to all fours, and the assistants slipped beneath him. Sava knelt behind him, getting a better grip on the ivory dildo.

Let's see if he can still provide all we need....

The End