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Nature's Abundance

The verdant expanse of the forest stretched horizon to horizon. Vast trees that seemed to have lived for centuries. Thick ranges of shrubbery feeding on the meagre, green tinged light that burst through the canopy, and clearings filled with wildflowers of a dozen different colours and a hundred different hues. Birds trilled and wheeled in the skies above, diving and lunging at clouds of insects that rose from streams and small glades bearing ponds of clear, fertile, almost perfectly still water. Animals of all shapes and sizes, of every species native to the lands in question and even a couple which had escaped to this paradise bountiful nature from human hands, roamed and lived with such abundance as they had never known before.

For the prey, vegetation was present in quantities so vast and flourishing that they grew round and plump, and bore litters of great size with no losses to hunger whatsoever. For the predators, they gorged themselves on the fat, contented prey, happy to let them breed and grow in numbers so that they might support their own young with similar ease when the time came. There was death, of course. There were accidents. There were illnesses. There were fights for dominance as territories were seized to house ever growing families. And of course, the food chain existed as it always had. But overall no animal present in this great and bountiful land went a single day without at least some awareness of how lucky they were to be here. Not just able to live, but to thrive.

Amongst these myriad creatures, upon the beautiful meadowy outskirts of the forest and by the banks of its central river, there lived herds of deer. Due to the sheer quantity of food available however, and the abundance of easier, smaller prey for the forest's foxes, birds of prey and increasingly wild canine predators, these deer grew up without fear of being hunted. Thus, there were those who wandered deeper into the forest, became separated from their herds, and discovered that they were perfectly contented and easily able to live alone.

At least, in most respects.

One doe, having abandoned her herd some months before, did find herself experiencing a certain... longing. A physical imperative that she was unable to satisfy alone. It did not drive her to seek out a new herd and the presence of others of her kind however, as experience had taught her that these longings and urges which she felt were not common to her kind. Countless times through her life she had witnessed the two brother stags who had controlled her former herd claiming the does who lived under their protection. Approaching them from behind when that certain scent overcame them. Tongues darting forth to explore and touch. To stimulate, to taste, to ready both themselves and the doe for what was coming. The doe had even experienced it herself. The trembling of her hind legs as she felt that warm, wet tongue slip between her pink folds and taste her heat. The weight of the stag upon her back and he hoisted himself up, and then... a sensation that was oh so pleasurable, yet did nothing to satisfy the burning within her hindquarters even after the stag had bucked his way deep inside and filled her with his seed in short, urgent eruptions.

No, her urges came from somewhere other than deep within the balls of the males of her species. Indeed, she felt a great deal more in common with the stags themselves than her fellow does in their more intimate, visceral needs. It was when her tongue had tentatively probed at the innards of another doe that she had felt a great cloud of hot, damp mist seem like it was engulfing her from all sides. When she had tasted the fluids of another heat stricken female, nuzzled at the swollen flesh of her vulva and licked ever more urgently until with a bellowing grunt the other doe had sprayed her muzzle with streaks of a hot, thick substance entirely different from acrid urine. That was when she had felt those urges rise to their peak, and had found _herself_stumbling forward on shaky hooves, lifting her forelimbs up and over the back of the other doe, and beginning to grind herself against that needy creature for all the time she would permit her to.

Of course, it was never long enough. Before long the other doe inevitably grew tired of this unfamiliar and rather pointless sensation, simply walking away to graze or to seek out the satisfaction she craved from one of the stags. Or worse, they actively seemed to recognise that the figure mounting and humping them bore none of the correct equipment to do so, and with a swift kick of their hind legs sent a perfectly clear message that such contact was no longer invited. It didn't seem to matter to them that the tongue delving between their intimate lips had moved with a greater purpose and passion than that of any male they had ever encountered. It was almost like they forgot the pleasure that the doe in question had granted them; the release and the euphoria that had accompanied her contact thus far. Like none of it mattered if she couldn't follow through on relieving that underlying urge. The same urge from which only on a couple of occasions through countless heats the doe had experienced even a little relief.

Today was no different. The doe gave a soft, lowing cry as she mounted the curved trunk of her favourite tree. It was a strong and broad specimen, easily the width of her body and just as thick in diameter, but early in its life a storm or perhaps the now rotted trunk of another tree falling across its then supple length had obviously caused it to bend, forming an almost ninety degree curve in its trunk which more gently rose back towards the sky further up the trunk. This left it at the perfect height for the doe to wrap her forelimbs around and mount the tree, something she did so often and had done so consistently that the bark had been stripped clean in small patches, leaving the trunk smooth and shiny where her hooves were gripping at its girth.

She bucked against its unyielding frame, shuddering as her sensitive, swollen udders grazed the bark which while not quite so smooth as that which lay beneath her hooves had definitely been softened and made less rough by the regular presence of her figure grinding against it. Her ears twitched and her muzzle hung slightly open, little grunts of effort escaping her each and every time the interior of her intimate regions quivered and clenched around itself. Occasionally a small spray of urine would gush from underneath her twitching, skyward pointing tail, and even more occasionally alongside a more strained and lustful exclamation, a small spray of ejaculate to add to that which drooled and dripped down her hind legs' interior almost constantly as she attempted to breed the only facsimile of another doe that was available to her.

On this particular day however, as she bucked and shivered and lowed in a mixture of pleasure and frustration, a sound reached the does ears. Not the gentle rushing of the nearby stream, its waters slightly milky in hue and its banks constantly lined by animals either greedily drinking or indulging in the abundant possibility of companionship found at this popular spot. Not the normal chirping of birds, squeaking of rodents, grunting of badgers or yapping of foxes. But rather, an answer. An answer to a sound that wasn't exactly a question, but was certainly a plea on her part. The lowing of another deer. Another doe, by its tone and intent. Seeking the same sexual relief as herself.

At first, the original doe didn't let herself succumb to the first feeling which swept through her body. Hope. Delight. She had to have mis-interpreted the call. Surely the doe she was hearing continuing to call was asking for the companionship of a male. Perhaps she was young, and simply emulating her own calls thinking that they meant a desire for companionship in general, rather than the very specific kind which the doe actually sought. But as she attempted to resume her own needy bucking against the unfeeling, unresponsive tree trunk beneath her, her ears remained perked and attentive. Listening to each almost whimpering call of desire, letting them feed her own excitement, until she could hold back no longer and uttered another bellowing cry of her very own.

Shaking as she backed away from the trunk, neck straining and face rising skyward while she felt her nether regions convulse in another round of climactic spasms of hungry excitement, the doe turned towards the source of the noises driving her so wild. Her tail twitched, as did her ears, and she sniffed the air. She could smell the forest. She could smell countless plants and animals all fertile and eager to propagate their kind. She could smell herself, her own scent heavy and rich with the pheromones of a heat that only grew in intensity with each day that passed unfulfilled. But through all of those scents, each one complex yet intimately familiar, the doe could smell something new. A scent so much like her own, yet different. Unique. The scent of the other doe, painfully laden with sexually driven hormones of her very own.

Almost stumbling in her haste to move towards the source of those smells and sounds, not wanting to hope but unable to keep her rather unique reproductive instincts in check, the doe set off towards the stream at a rather eager trot. Her lithe legs leapt over the undergrowth, propelled her through bushes and patches of gorse without a second thought, and daintily navigated around countless gnarled roots that kept this vast forest's trees standing proud and tall. It took less than thirty seconds for her to reach the clearing that surrounded the banks of the stream; soft springy earth coated in lush grass replacing the trees due to the grazing presence of countless small animals. Nevertheless, the doe could feel her heart thumping within her torso, driven by an instinctive terror that if she delayed just a split-second too long the other deer would no longer be present, and any chance she had of possibly finding another doe who felt the same urges as her would once again be utterly futile.

Left and right the doe glanced with an almost visible series of anticipatory tremors running through her body. As normal, just as she had expected the stream's edges were lined with animals drinking their fill. A couple of rabbits were actually playing in the water itself, bounding back and forth as they chased each other and splashing many of those drinking. Not a single one of the seven or eight species currently present seemed to mind though, and didn't even raise their heads as with a loud squeal the female rabbit found herself pinned, head barely breaking the water's surface, and her counterpart sent the water around them splashing upward almost into a mist with the intensity that he began to breed her.

There was only one creature present remotely as large as the doe of course, and without hesitation she let slip a rather deep, bellowing snort almost like the masculine calls used by stags to call their herds together as she set eyes upon her counterpart. Another doe, pale brown with sandy spots and darker, bark-brown streaks across her flanks. Slightly smaller than herself, but clearly fully grown, the other doe immediately lowered her head, extended her neck, and to the original female's wonder spread her back legs slightly in a show of submission. The other doe's tail flagged up high, and even as she moved slowly, carefully towards the seemingly receptive female, she could see the powerful stream of yellowish urine that was being released.

Approaching more quickly now, eager and rather overwhelmed by the message what she was seeing seemed to be sending to her, the doe encircled the new arrival. The flow of the newcomer's urine was just beginning to abate as she leaned in and inhaled deeply, confirming that indeed she was the source of the heat-stricken pheromones oh so similar to those her own body was producing. Out flicked the doe's tongue even as a warm trickle continued to drip from between the new arrival's legs, tasting it, bitter and yet loaded with rich flavours born of liquids other than urine's normal waste products. The other female's legs trembled, and she let slip a rather loud, strained burst of rather melodic excitement. She pulled away from the original doe, but just far enough to allow her to start circling just as she had been circled. Soon the newcomer's own muzzle was close to the rear end of her counterpart, and in a motion that drew a strained grunt and a sudden spray of hormone laden urine from the original doe, she extended her tongue and tasted the other female in turn.

Within seconds the pair were wide eyed and circling one other, heads turned to observe and gaze in curiosity and frank wonder at their opposite number. The dark streaks on the newcomer's flanks clearly separated her from the single, large pale spot of fur that was present upon the original doe's right haunch, but beyond those it was only small differences in size and less obvious markings that differentiated the two. They looked alike. They lowed and huffed with the same urgent excitement. They even smelled alike, at least to all those creatures nearby but one another, each of the does delighting to the extreme in the unique familiarity of this other female's scent.

They circled, observed, and grew accustomed to one another's presence for almost a minute. Beyond that though, neither Streak nor One-Spot could bear to hold back any longer. Both their bodies were primed and ready. They had been for far longer than either one of them could coherently recall. For countless suns and moons they had been in a state of near constant excitement. Helpless to act. Helpless to seek relief, and in Streak's case not even really aware of what could possibly grant her that relief if a male's touch would not do so. But now they knew, and for the first time they had a doe before them who seemed to reciprocate these sensations burning within them. They didn't seek pleasure. These were wild animals, and such concepts were beyond their ability to grasp. But they understood desire. They understood the idea of wanting, of needing, and of relief. And though neither of them had really ever experienced it, they understood that beyond that relief, if indeed such a feeling were possible, there lay the ultimate goal of these physiological urges.

Satisfaction.

One-Spot, the more experienced and aware of the two, was the first to act. The first to quicken the speed of her circling relative to the other doe and find herself positioned behind Streak's quivering hindquarters. Once again, with ease that had come from countless practice sessions on her favourite tree trunk and the couple of disinterested females from her former herd, she pushed off with her forelimbs and pulled her body back while stumbling forward on her rear legs. She teetered in the air for a few seconds as the other doe stumbled and quivered, not entirely sure what to do as she peered back and watched One-Spot act. An instant later however she felt her body come to rest over the other doe's own. Streak felt the other doe's weight land over her back, and as both their eyes widened once more, mutual bellows of pleading desire escaped their muzzles. This felt right. This felt good. This felt like what they had both been waiting for, and as One-Spot began to buck her hips against Streak's own, holding their trembling bodies tightly together by the waist as the other female shakily rocked back and forth in her own delight, they felt their bodies responding strongly to the others' touch.

Their urges, potent and driving beforehand, didn't fade or reduce in intensity now that they had found what they seemed to be searching for. Quite the contrary. As One-Spot's thighs rubbed against the other doe's backside and Streak felt her nether regions spraying the softly furred loins of her counterpart with warm jets of arousal, they each felt their internal heat rapidly rising. From a constant, burning simmer to a boil. And from a boil to an all consuming, volatile inferno.

Within less than a minute, the two females found themselves trading positions. The original doe gave a long, deep exclamation of pleading lust as she ceased straddling Streak, and they circled one another upon shaky legs just a couple of times before the other female took the hint and mounted One-Spot in turn. The slightly smaller, less experienced doe gave a shrill bellow of her own as she found herself in the position of a stag, and suddenly everything she had _known_about her bodily urges fell into place. She bucked. And she bucked again. And again. Her hips hammered against the larger doe's own backside, and though the act was not nearly potent enough in its stimulation to drive her to orgasm with such speed a second squirting spray of her heat's fluids erupted and splashed down to the grassy ground beneath them as Streak continued to hump at One-Spot in a gleeful frenzy.

Back and forth the two does swapped positions astride one another, until while mounting the other female One-Spot heard Streak let loose such a plaintive, desperate lowing that she recognised something else had to be done. Her sexually overwhelmed mind travelled back to her experiences with the herd. To her first time stimulating another doe and how her tongue probing and teasing at the interior of her body had yielded results that seemed deeply rewarding. She knew it would deny her the pleasant, intense throbbing of stimulation which was granted by bucking and 'breeding' the other doe in the manner she was currently achieving, but even her instinctively and lust driven mind could put together the simple concept of learning through experience. If she were to lick Streak, and Streak recognised the pleasure this selfless stimulation could provide her, perhaps the other doe would seek to reciprocate.

One-Spot soon had her tongue buried between the other doe's legs, and heads rose from the animals drinking and playing all around the edge of the stream as the sheer volume of the bellowing moan that escaped Streak echoed through the trees for a considerable distance. The original doe's own eyes bulged as she slipped her large, wet tongue rather rapidly in and out of her companion, mimicking the few brief, short and sharp thrusts that a stag had once delivered to her. Rather than just slipping in and out however the doe's tongue dragged itself across the interior walls of the other deer, greedily tasting her increasingly abundant fluids and revelling in the intensity of the pheromones with which they were laden. She grunted and slurped loudly, her own hindquarters shivering and twitching, seeking to hump at thin air as juices began to drip down the lower jaw of her muzzle. Streak's almost howling exclamations got more and more frequent, not to mention more and more wild and uninhibited in their savagery, and alongside them so too increased the flood running down the face of the doe pressed into her nether regions.

Finally, in a single instant, and with a bellowing roar that would put any stag's most virile attempts at satisfying a doe to shame, the less experienced doe's body erupted into orgasm. One-Spot pulled back her open muzzled face, huffing and breathless, and was promptly soaked with a single, lengthy spurt of the thickest and most heated ejaculate she had ever experienced in any way, either from herself or witnessed from anyone else. She watched Streak's rear end twitch and her hind legs buckle, barely able to remain upright as she rocked back and forth, one long note of mindless pleasure seeming to simply tumble from her own open mouth. It was incredible to behold, and it told One-Spot something that she had always known deep down. That much as the satisfaction she craved clearly could be found in this female's touch, there was a reason she had always longed for the tree she mounted daily to be a living, breathing doe. So that she could stimulate and please it in return, and find a whole other variety of satisfaction in sating the urges of another, just as a stag took satisfaction in placating the needs of his herd.

With that in mind, it didn't make the doe any less giddy as she watched her still trembling and bow-legged partner stagger around her. It didn't stop One-Spot's lowing cries of bliss from ringing out around the stream as Streak's tongue flicked against the swollen, dripping lips of her own nether regions. Not did it keep her cloven hooves from stamping onto the lush grass below, her eyes from rolling in their sockets, and her tail from twitching in spasms of ecstasy as before long Streak figured out what was expected of her and began to work the other doe towards her own potent, flooding release of long restrained euphoria. One-Spot had never known a climax like it. It wasn't just the release of tension. It wasn't just a warm, oh so pleasant trembling radiating out from her loins. It was savage. Primal. It devastated her in the most gloriously draining way, and yet in revealing just how wonderful a sensation it could be, it seized the doe like a chemical addiction. Just as it had already swept up Streak, and ensuring that now they had found their long awaited companion, they might never be able to let them go.

What followed was a cycle of fevered action that neither doe dared break, no matter how weary they grew nor how intense and almost painfully violent the releases which sapped their energy. With their initial release achieved, they returned to straddling and breeding one another for longer and longer bouts. They drove one another wild with the urgency and firmness of their grasp and the weight of one another upon their bodies. Even when they did separate from their frenetic mounting however, they grew more consumed by the ritual and pheromone induced instinctive urges that surrounded those sessions of humping and grinding. Teeth nipped at hocks and shoulders, sending their counterpart into trembling spasms and gleefully forcing them to confirm their mutual submission with both body language and fresh sprays of hormone laden urine. Tongues almost playfully wandered beyond the lips of their nether regions as they sought to bring one another to yet further peaks of wild ecstasy, muzzles bumping against swollen udders and lips wrapping around the stiffened, smooth flesh of teats. There was no milk for either female to produce, but still at one point they found themselves side by side, almost leaning against the other doe's flank for support, and muzzles hungrily suckling upon one another purely for how sensitive they had found their partner's teats to be, and how eagerly they each responded to being tended to in this new way.

The longer they remained joined in whatever ways their bodies allowed, simultaneously the more and less urgent every motion became. They longed for more contact, but while that certainly included more of that wondrous satisfaction and intense stimulation, it also included simply feeling their bodies pressed together as they continued to take turns mounting and bucking at their companion. Their tongues had become the main and most effective method for bringing the other female to climax, there was no doubting that. But still their mounting served to fulfil a vital part of this whole experience. It made it more personal. More intimate even than making the other doe bellow and moan in orgasmic rapture. They felt one another's heartbeat as the other doe rested upon their back. They felt the rapid, sharp drawing of the other's breath into powerful lungs, and the rush of air from straining nostrils as their heads rested side by side, pressed rather tenderly together in mutual gratitude and hormone induced affection.

As One-Spot straddled Streak, nuzzling and licking at the left side of the other doe's face while she felt the female beneath her tremble and huff in the wake of another recent climax, she couldn't help but glance around them. The doe noticed that while they had never been alone in their pleasure, no longer were the banks of the stream lined with animals casually drinking and for the most part ignoring these two does going about their perhaps a little unfamiliar but harmless business. Indeed the vast majority of the animals still present nearby seemed to be spread out around them, almost encircling them protectively, or perhaps simply seeking to be close so they could better mimic what they were seeing.

One-Spot watched, shivering as she ground her loins against Streak with renewed vigour, while a pair of mice fought playfully. They rolled over and over one another amidst squeaks of pure elation, the male's large testes clearly visible and the pink length of his member straining as it rubbed up against the smooth fur surrounding his mate's vulva. He pinned her, the two of their noses twitching and whiskers wiggling against one another as they lay belly to belly, and suddenly they were mating. Beyond where they lay the doe saw a dog, once perhaps descended from a retriever of some sort in breed but now more hardy and coarse from generations of living and breeding wild, bent over herself and lapping urgently at her own nether regions. She knelt alone for perhaps twenty seconds before a loud bark roused her, and bounding across the stream's shallow waters came another similarly wild-bred canine. His muzzle replaced her own, and before long the bitch was on her back, panting and staring up towards One-Spot and Streak with a glazed look in her eyes as the male's rough tongue got her more and more worked up in the time it took his erection to swell from its sheath.

Countless pairs of rabbits, more seeming to spring from the surrounding woodland each time the does turned their heads, humped at each other regardless of gender. Males pumped feverish loads of seed into the furred hindquarters of other males, and females' hips ground together in a vivid blur of colour as they inhaled the scent of male arousal close by. They bounced between partners with each climax to strike their small, agile bodies, and darted between the legs of some of the larger mating pairs as they played between lavish bouts of more intimate, serious courtship. Indeed, one pair of those legs belonged to a pair that lumbered out of the stream some distance away, on the far bank and away from the main group encircling the does. Two hefty brown bears, the male roaring as he slipped inside his mate and held himself there, hips twitching with every straining pulse of his erection. Their own rather predatorous snarls and roars did nothing to dissuade a single other coupling pair however, including the two does. No-one was under threat here. Doing anything but breeding right now... it seemed almost wrong to all those in the presence of the two female deer, and frankly impossible to the does themselves.

Even when Streak and One-Spot paused briefly, walking on weakened, trembling legs towards the stream and actually stepping into the water rather than stooping down on its bank, the rest of those present continued to fill the grassy stream-side with the combined vocalisations of their pleasure. And indeed that was what it was. Not just instinct any longer, not for the two deer, nor for any of those around them. Purposeful, urgently sought after pleasure, radiating from the does and flooding the primal minds and loins of the other forest creatures. None were exempt. Flies landed to copulate upon rocks near the water's edge, and upon the grass as well as in the surrounding trees songbirds of all shapes and colours fluttered against one another in a flurry of sexual compulsion.

Though they had temporarily ceased all intimate contact with one another, One-Spot and Streak stood side by side, flanks resting together as they drank from the cool, gently flowing water. Already the water seemed thicker than before, a more pearly, milky note to its hue. That whiteness, and indeed the very texture of the water seemed to grow even more thick and potent as the juices trickling almost non-stop down the does' back legs began to join the stream's flow. Even without that added source of fluids however, the stream's contents still re-invigorated the two deer in record time. It was barely thirty seconds from their first sip before they raised their heads and threw them back, bellowing in lustful desperation. Their nether regions were clutching, juices flowing more and more abundantly even before the less experienced doe was able to straddle and begin to drive her hips against One-Spot. And without stepping out of the centre of the stream's increasingly thick, glistening flow, the pair surrendered themselves to their urges once again.

In the distance, some time later, the does began to hear yet more urgent, bellowing cries from downstream. The roaring lows of a stag, perhaps two, joined by many more females wild with lust. Raising her rather wet muzzle from One-Spot's squeezing, freely flowing nether regions once more, Streak called out in answer. Her pleasure stricken mate joined her as soon as she had the breath to do so, and their bellowing moans echoed through the forest towards the herd. Their calls were different from those belonging to any of the other deer though. They weren't calls for a stag's aid like those emanating from the other does, nor were they calls like those coming from the stags, calling home each and every female in earshot to be thoroughly and forcefully bred.

Their combined calls were addressed to the does of that herd, yes, but they made no effort to conceal or disguise themselves as stags. They simply offered those other does what they had offered each other. Satisfaction. Fulfilment more deep and lengthy than anything ever offered to them by the men of their kind. And though at first the distant herd continued to call out for male aid where they stood alongside their section of the stream, trembling and dripping with unbearable longing after stopping for a cooling afternoon drink, it wasn't all that long before first one, then more and more of the herd's female population began to alter their calls. To reply not to the bellowing, horny stags yet further downstream, but to whatever, and whoever lay upstream.

To One-Spot and Streak, begging the women to grant them the relief which their frantic calls promised.

Relief they would receive, and learn to share with each other rather rapidly if there were going to be enough virile cervine bodies to go around, just as soon as they made it to where Streak and One-Spot were standing. Just as soon as they arrived where the two does were feverishly continuing to alternate licking and mounting one another in the midst of the forest stream, surrounded by ever swelling numbers of animals of all shapes and sizes. Bears, rabbits and beavers. Wolves, mice and songbirds. Weasels and feral dogs. And quietly, from just a short way up-stream and concealed by some reeds at the water's edge, by two foxes. Two foxes whose bodies were trembling as they stood locked together, their hindquarters coated in strands of the thick, oozing seed pumping out from between the tight seal of their bodies in a constant, unceasing flood.

Two foxes who knew that the Naiad they served was seeking a new pair of emissaries to spread nature's abundant gifts yet further afield through this world, and since first catching their scent earlier that day had nothing and no-one but a particular pair of does in mind.

By Jeeves