Pestered by an Eagle
A male cheetah is so wrapped up in his inability to find a female of his own species that he does not notice other opportunities to find love.
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Spots was alone.
The cheetah trotted through the thick foliage, tail flicking as his gaze wondered about. Everything looked the same as the day before. Gnarled trees still spread along broken plains ahead, and behind him sprawled endless grasslands littered by kopje and thorn bushes. He felt his scent, faint and sour, on a dried tree he passed, on boulders, and even bushes. He had marked them all, time and time again.
This day was no different. Spots approached the tree nearest to him--a fig tree with lush leaves and plump fruits , scratched at it with his forepaws, brushed his sides against it, then sprayed its twisted bark. He took a step forward, then stopped, paw frozen in midair. Why was he still doing this? This reserve had no predators to challenge his claim. Only birds and small prey.
Spots sat onto his haunches under the shadow of the boughs. The shade cooled his hide, but not the fire within his taut muscles. He wanted to chase, tackle, kill. But more than that, he wanted to chase one of his own kind. Male or female, it made no difference as long as he wouldn't be alone no more.
Something fell on top of his head. The cheetah twisted his head and hissed at the fig on the ground. Ripe, with seeds bursting out of its plump flesh. He gave it a tentative lick, snarled at its tart taste, and lifted a slender paw to brush its aftertaste from his nose.
Another thump. Another hit on top of his scruff. Spots tensed up and dashed his tongue across his smooth, velvety pads.
A third fig connected with his skull before rolling to a stop before him. Spots jumped onto his feet, lifted his head and snarled at the culprit--a monstrous golden eagle bigger than any vulture he had the misfortune of encountering. The branch shifted and bent under the bird's weight, so much she dropped the fig from her beak. She flapped her wings to keep steady, but her perch gave in with a crack.
The eagle sprawled its wings, flapped once and alighted at the base of the tree, head tilted to the side.
Spots crouched, his raised tail flicking from side to side, should the bird give him a reason to tackle her. Not that he would. Birds flew off before he even took a step forward. Spots learned as much, just as he had learned that humans no longer brought other residents to the reserve.
They were alone, him and this oversized eagle and the rest of the witless prey.
Spots softened his posture as his snarl died on his lips. There was prey aplenty, mice and rabbits and squirrels, all easier to catch. He sat onto his haunches, swishing his tail. The eagle took a step forward. Her wings twitched when she wobbled, and a soft cry escaped her. Spots drew back at that, his own hiss muffling the clack of her beak.
She took another wobbling step towards him, then another, until her suave scent filled Spots' nostrils. Her plumage carried a sweet, dusty fragrance, soft and pleasant. It increased in intensity with each step, until Spots rose onto his paws and backed away.
The eagle rushed forward in a flurry of feathers. Spots darted around her side, away from her buffeting wings, and dabbed at her fanned tail with a paw. She screeched, turned, and charged again, much too slow. With a single lunge, Spots sailed out of harm's way, reared onto his hind paws, and swiped at the broad feathers of a wing. He caught only the frayed tips onto his claws as the eagle drew back, too fast and too clumsy. Her feet tangled, and she fell onto her back in a heap of lashing talons, screeches and beating wings. In the blink of an eye, she rolled onto her feet, her wings sprawled and fiery hackles raised. She regarded him with piercing amber eyes, as if it was his fault for her clumsy display.
Spots hissed at her and turned tail. The midday sun bore down upon him, and the last thing he wanted was to share the shade with a pestering buzzard. He started at a trot, then broke into a dash when wings flapped behind him. A shadow passed over him, broad and wide. Then, a shriek. No--her shriek, high pitched and taunting. Spots skidded to a stop and curled into the thick foliage. Prey never suspected him when.
Yet she did. The same shadow kept circling his location, increasing in size as the eagle glided, lower and lower. Spots spat at her, growled, hissed, even lunged forward for a tackle when she was low enough. The eagle screeched at that, fanned her tail just out of his reach, and, with a mighty flap, she gained more altitude than Spots could cover.
Spots licked his snout as he attained a steady gait. He no longer hissed when the eagle dove in to brush the tip of her wing across his back, no longer lashed out when she landed behind him to nip at his fluffy tail tip. Like him, the eagle had been brought to this sanctuary by humans, with no memories of her previous life. If she had some, she would have left for the mountains by now, to find a mate and roost.
Spots thought back to that day. A wooden cage, dark and stifling. Then, blinding light ahead. He had taken one tentative step forward, then another, until the light dimmed and blurry shapes acquired form. Once out, he had turned around to hiss at the lifeless, wooden cage, his only reminder of how he got here, and why he was alone.
So was the eagle. And, apparently, infuriatingly intelligent. She always stood at a paw's length away, yet out of his reach. Every time she dove, she passed by him in a flurry of feathers, too fast for the cheetah to tackle her.
At least his tactic paid off. With no target to vex, the eagle landed in front of him, her head tilted as a faint squeak burst from her beak. Spots passed by her.
She flapped once to glide and block his path. She squawked, twitched her wings and fanned out her tail. Spots flicked his tail and passed by her.
He did this, over and over again, until the narrow gully with the crooked ebony tree sprawled ahead. Spots leaped onto the cool river bedding and padded through the coarse sand until shade enveloped him. His eyes half lidded at its relieving touch. Once it engulfed him, Spots flopped onto his back to rub the coolness across his searing spine. He rolled onto a side, then the other, a purr rumbling in his throat at the touch of soggy sand against his thin coat.
The flapping of wings urged him to roll onto his belly with a hiss. The golden eagle not only tucked her wings as if she claimed the place, but dropped onto a side, rolled upon her back, and shrieked as she ended up sprawled onto her stomach. A vulnerable position. Spots crouched, tail held high in anticipation of the pounce. The eagle still cooed, her eyes lidded as she brushed her wings against the cool bank.
He pounced, paws stretched forward, claws ready to grapple flesh.
Only the plume of a feather rested under his paws where he landed. A shed one, coarse and frayed. She boasted with curt, high pitched shrieks as she circled him high in the sky. Spots' ears sagged and his tail fell limp as he sought his previous spot to rest. Once splayed on his side, not even a persistent buzzard could get him to do more than twitch his tail.
This eagle did. She found perch upon the bough of the ebony tree. His tree! He climbed the bank in a single leap and clawed at the bark, moaning and spitting at the eagle swaying above him. She cocked her head to present him the fiery colors of her nape, then turned around, her tail sprawled.
Spots lunged back, hissing at the thump of dung upon grass. First she claimed his tree, and now she sought to mark it as well?! Spots turned around, lifted his tail and sprayed as much and as high as he could. He knew he caught her when her talons scraped at the wood for purchase and the eagle let out a curt screech. She ruffled and shook her soggy feathers, flapped her wings and shuddered. Spots chirped at her. She squeaked. Spots chirped louder. She squawked. Spots growled and raked at the bark underneath her perch. She shrieked and lifted her tail feathers again.
Spots lunged back, but no thump came. No dung this time. Only a second shriek, low and curt, followed by the clatter of her beak as she pranced on the bough above him. Spots swung his tail in annoyance, dropped onto his belly at the base of the tree, and curled into a ball.
He dozed off, for he dreamed about running through the endless plains he knew and marked. An itch bothered him, and, no matter how he rolled and scratched, it lingered upon his scruff.
Spots cracked an eye open to a sky full of brown feathers. He shuddered when that itch flared, followed by the clatter of a beak. The harder it clattered, the more bothersome the itch became. Was the eagle preening him?! Spots lifted his head, hard enough to hit her sprawled wing. A shriek filled his ears, followed by the buffet of wings as the eagle flapped a safe distance from him.
The cheetah yawned, licked his nose, dug his chin into his joined paws, and wrapped the fluffy end of the tip around his eyes and nose. He still heard her approach, still felt the sour tang of his mark upon her feathers, and still shivered when her beak nipped and clacked at his scruff.
He sprung to his feet, lashed out and caught her foot. The eagle unleashed a hoarse cry as she stumbled upon her chest. For a brief moment, Spots' limbs turned taut in anticipation of a pounce. His tongue flicked at the prospect of fresh meat, and he flexed his claws at the yearning to get rid of his pest. Yet her shrilling cry stunned him, enough to allow the eagle to flee onto a bough.
They stared at each other for a moment before the eagle dipped her head and let out a rumbling coo. Spots merely flicked his tail. Whatever that meant, his still numb senses couldn't comprehend it. He leaned forward into a stretch, yawning as he pulled up his hindquarters and raked at the grass. Then, he padded to the tree, scratched several claw marks along its bark, rubbed his side against it, then sprayed it. Pointless as it was, he had to do it, especially when the eagle perched above had her eyes on him. He favored her a curt glance before settling onto his haunches, one paw aloft to lick it and rub it across his forehead.
A squeak came from above, followed by the flapping of wings. The eagle landed in front of him, her wings fanned as she lifted a foot, dabbed at it with her beak, and rubbed her cheek against it. She staggered with the motion and flapped once to steady herself. Spots watched her display, then returned to his grooming session.
The eagle did the same. For each part he licked, she preened. Sides, haunches, tail--whatever he did, the eagle mirrored his movements. Spots perked his ears at that, and leaned onto his side to lick across his lower belly. As expected, the eagle tried the same and fell onto her side.
What a curious pest! Spots took a tentative step towards her, then another, and another. When she drew her head back and flexed her wings, he stopped, and the eagle relaxed her posture once again.
Pounce, or approach her? Spots sat onto his haunches, then lowered himself onto his belly. She intruded into his territory and claimed his tree. Better to let her approach.
She cocked her head, opened and shut her beak, then wobbled towards him. Spots tensed up when she got close enough for a paw swipe, and his hackles raised as a moan flared in his throat. The eagle drew back with a soft squawk, and spots licked his nose. Why let her approach? She would just pester him to no end.
He hissed at her, loud enough to send her flying onto her bough. She cocked her head, shrieked and lowered onto her perch.
Spots flicked his tail. Annoying as she was, the eagle distracted him. She gave him a reason to mark his tree, to hiss, to pounce, to chase her away. No other prey in the reserve stirred his heart and hackles as much as this eagle did.
He settled onto his belly, watching her preen. He chirped at her. The eagle fixated an amber eye on him, then dug her beak into a luxuriant wing. He chirped again, then again when the eagle didn't notice, and again. She continued preening herself.
Spots brought his paws up to his ears to muffle the clacking of her beak. When that didn't help, his tongue poked out of his muzzle and dashed across his shoulder. A soft purr flared in his throat at the pleasant caress, and his eyes half lidded as he trailed along the wan fluff of his underbelly and down a haunch. A jolt ran through him as he inched closer to his furred orbs. His paws twitched, and his glistening length poked out of its sheath. Spots tensed up. His muscles grew taut, and tingles ran along his flanks as his member twitched and flexed and grew. He craned his neck towards it, wincing at his hot breath upon his sensitive flesh. A dab with his nose was enough to make it pulsate and push out of the sheath.
The cheetah licked his muzzle. His tail swayed with the urge to quell the rising pressure within his lower belly, and his heart thundered in his chest. With each beat, his tightness throbbed fiercer. It stifled his breath and clouded his mind. He poked his tongue out, ran it across his throbbing length, and winced at the shudders of pleasure rippling through his shivering haunches.
He licked it again, first with the smooth tip of his tongue. Then, a broader lick to allow his barbs to brush against his sensitive shaft. Spots stifled a yowl. He kicked a hind paw and curled his tail inwards at the onrush of bliss coursing through him. He flopped onto his side for better access, lifted a haunch, and lapped at his moist, pink nub. It pulsated faster and harder under each stroke, until the cheetah's purr died in his throat, replaced by a drawn-out moan.
He squeezed his eyes shut as burning pressure welled within his orb pouch. It jerked once under his constant licking, urging a stinging, blissful spurt to slither through his tightness and burst onto his nostrils. Spots flicked his head, half dazed with the pungent scent of his pre. He slurped it, tasting its coarse touch upon his tongue. Only a drop, and it already made his blood boil. The cheetah sucked in a deep breath and returned to his member. It grew so big and so hard that Spots no longer discerned pain from pleasure. Lost in his bliss, the cheetah ran the entire length of his tongue across his member, starting with the bulged base and trailing across to his tapered tip.
His tongue felt smoother than a female's slit, and the rough caress of the barbs flared his bliss to unfathomable heights. Spots licked harder, faster; stars speckled his eyes, and his moan became a high pitched yowl as his member grew taut and still.
Then, in one single, powerful throb, he burst. Wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure rippled through his tense frame, each more intense than the last. His member writhed and convulsed, spewing the molten contents of his shivering orbs in thin, sporadic lines. Several caught him across his muzzle, cheeks and chin.
And one splattered across the shrieking eagle's beak.
Spots scrambled to his feet with a hiss. A prominent blur of brown mingled with the greens and blues of his blissful haze. It staggered for a moment, expanding. Spots blinked to clear his vision and let out a hoarse, sporadic moan as his hindquarters buckled to thrust his still twitching member forward. Dust rose where his spurts tore thin, irregular, wet gashes. It wafted towards his nose, urging a sneeze from him.
With it, his bliss died. Every colored dot dispersed before the sharp textures of grass, gully and eagle. Spots spat at her, and swayed forward for a swipe. His paws buckled, and his spent hindquarters protested with a sharp sting. Spots yowled, crashed onto his side, then jumped onto his feet when the eagle drew further back with a shriek.
She tucked her wings, fixated her amber eyes on him, and wobbled forward. Spots took a step back, snarling. She broke into a stride, forcing him back until the cheetah's rump connected with the rough trunk of the mahogany tree. Spots whirled around to circle it, then spun back to face the eagle. Why flee when he could just confront her?
He bounded forward to tackle the eagle. Her posture was low, stiff, and her wings did not open in time when Spots leaped towards her.
She took the brunt of the attack with a soft screech and rolled onto her back, legs stiff as she exposed her broad, muscular chest to him. Without the resistance he expected, spots fell on top of her, among those smooth, stifling feathers. The eagle tilted her head out of harm's way and twitched her flanks, but otherwise, she was as limp as subdued prey.
Spots pushed himself onto his feet and craned his neck to study his quarry. He sniffed the soft fragrance coating the plumes of her head, moved along her neck and nibbled at the soft, downy feathers. His maw spread open, enough to allow his fangs to wrap around her neck. All he had to do was press harder.
Spots settled for a lick across her plumage. Her soft, sweet scent mixed with the raw one he sprayed her with earlier. As long as she bore his scent, the urge to groom her gnawed at his stomach. He began with her nape, trailed across her belly and licked at one haunch with sweeping strokes, purring over her gentle murmur. Once clean, he shifted to her other haunch. With his scent flaring deep within his nostrils, Spots immersed himself in the act of grooming. Everything lost form, and the only sound he heard was his own purr mixed with the eagle's mellow squeaks and shrieks.
He only noticed her craned neck and her beak grooming his scruff when his nose connected with moist, pungent, feather-less flesh. The eagle let out a sharp squeak and drew back her head as Spots circled her shivering hollow. His tail grew stiff and taut, and his fluffy tip twitched restlessly as prickly sweetness invaded his nostrils. It bore the fragrance of fertility, and a dab with the tip of his tongue at the slimy ooze coating the rims of her nether tunnel sent his heart into frenzied beating. His hindquarters buckled from the tantalizing scent, and his member snaked its way out of his sheath.
Spots purred as he straddled the eagle. The same haze of delight coated his eyes, only it was infinitely more potent. Her feathers no longer made a difference to him. Nor did her twitching wings, squirming haunches, and gnarled beak. To his aroused senses, the eagle bore the alluring scent of a mate, and her still posture urged him to lower and wriggle his hindquarters until he sank his length into her narrow, shivering depths.
Spots moaned at how slick, hot and tight her embrace was. He pulled back, wrapped his forepaws around the joints of her wings for leverage, and snuggled his head under her chin. A shudder crept through him as he dug his nose into her smooth feathers to savor their warm smoothness. The eagle flinched, and her beak rested against Spots' forehead. Her heavy huffs filled the cheetah's ears, and Spots winced when her beak nipped at the tip of one of his twitching ears.
He lowered his belly to trap her fidgeting form, brought his hindquarters forward, curled his forepaws tighter against her wings, and shoved his tight member inside her in the fast paced rhythm of mating. The eagle's quivering insides squeezed and sought to clamp down around him, but Spots plunged out and inside before she had the chance to trap him.
The eagle's shrills drowned Spots' purr. She kicked, twisted her head, beat her wings with each terse thrust, and fluids rushed out of her shivering flesh. They soaked the cheetah's hindquarters and dribbled onto the eagle's fanned tail. Spots shook his hindquarters and flicked his tongue with the urge to lick the grime off his orb pouch, but the eagle had none of that. As soon as Spots turned his head, her beak pressed against his cheek and directed him back to her neck.
After several more thrusts, it no longer mattered. Caught in the fetters of mating, the cheetah squeezed his eyes shut and licked across the eagle's neck as his hindquarters pumped into her. His strokes became harder, his thrusts deeper, and the eagle's cries hoarse. Her muscles grasped at his shaft with renewed vigor, and every time they trapped him inside, the cheetah yowled and unleashed a spurt of pre. That sent the eagle on edge. She started flailing her limbs and beating her wings as more ooze gushed out of her sweltering depths.
Spots sucked a deep breath and rammed inside her, faster and faster. Each thrust increased the stinging sensation burning within his tip. Each cry from the eagle hardened him with purpose, and each throb of his member brought him closer to his peak.
The cheetah's last strokes were fast and clumsy. Spots' limbs buckled under the strain of overwhelming pleasure, and his paws sprawled in every direction as he began thrusting with abandon. He dug his claws into the ground for leverage, but even that didn't stop that terrible pleasure from building within his lower belly. Spots snarled, hissed, and plunged inside the eagle, parting her tightening depths as he thrust his whole length into her all the way to his balls.
Then, she squeezed, and released, and squeezed again. Spots' member stiffened to the point of no return, and the cheetah yowled as he unleashed his torrent inside the eagle's sweltering depths. She milked his tightening spheres for all their worth, trembling and tightening around his spurting member. Her shrill mirrored his own as the strength of the jets brought forth her own climax. Her form fell limp, and her beak clacked as an onrush of fluids spurted out of her tunnel to pool onto her tail.
Spots purred and licked his companion as his climax subsided. The eagle still kneaded at his member, milking him with soft, gentle nudges. The cheetah tapered off inside her, and only drew back when his breath returned to him.
He withdrew his soggy sack with a wet squelch and sought to shift onto his side and clean it, but the eagle buffeted him with her wings, and pinched his ear at even the slightest of movements. Spots snarled, but his lips draped over his canines when the eagle began rubbing her neck against his, a mellow coo rumbling in her throat.
Spots melted into her embrace. He brought his hindquarters forward and lowered himself onto the eagle, until their combined juices spread across his belly. Spots shuddered at the moist warmth, and tried a second time to wrestle the eagle into submission. Yet his paws were weak, and his haunches quivered and stung as soon as he put weight onto them.
He slumped at that, and licked and nibbled at the eagle's chest instead. In his haze of delight, her feathers resembled fur, and her soft preening almost felt like licks across his scruff. The cheetah closed his eyes, purring. Is that how it felt to have a mate?
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