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For Nall

Squirrelled Away

All was peaceful in the forest. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, while birdsong and the buzz of insect wings thrummed in the air. The glade was plunged into half-light, the sun's rays streaming through the leaves above. And from a fallen log, a young pine marten popped up his head, sniffing the cool air and scanning his surroundings.

Nall was a forest-dweller, as adept in the woods as an otter in water. Indeed he was impressed how quickly he'd re-adapted to living wild, having only returned to the forest a few short weeks ago. He bore no ill feelings towards his former master, but the time was right for them to part company. One day, maybe, he might long again for a stable home and a settled life. But right now, the forest was his home.

And what a home it was. Nall had never seen a forest so lush, so vibrant, so awash with bright viridians and earthen shades. Every fern and every flower was alive with colour. And it was a vast place, especially so for a small mustelid such as Nall. Many days he had spent exploring, through the undergrowth and high in the canopies. Every day he found a new trail, a new clearing, a new patch to explore. And still he was yet to find the forest edge. Maybe this forest stretched on for ever more?

However, not all of his exploration was innocent and playful. After all, animals need to eat.

Just then, Nall's keen whiskery nose caught the scent of something delicious. His muzzle darted back and forth, his breathing stilled, bright eyes scanning through the foliage. And then he spotted it. A flash of grey, high up in the leaves. A squirrel. Nall licked his lips. Yes... that would do nicely tonight.

Clutching his belly to quell the rumbles, the bespectacled pine marten dropped into a stalk, his hunting instincts returning like a long-lost language. Master had often hunted squirrels, sharp shot that he was, and naturally Nall had shared in the spoils. Yet how much more satisfying would this squirrel be, caught by his own claws? Hopefully this one wouldn't talk, though. It's always awkward when your prey can beg for its life.

With the forest as dense as it was, camouflage was easy. Nall's paws were nimble, delicate, letting him skitter nice and close without alerting his prey. The squirrel had paused for a moment on a branch, poised and ready to spring at the slightest danger. Nall could see the little animal breathing rapidly, its whole body undulating with each shallow breath. He could feel its heat, sense its hammering heartbeat through its fur, and he licked his lips, imagining how the squirrel would feel between his jaws. He crept as close as he could. Then, he made his leap.

The squirrel gasped, and ran, with the brown-furred pine marten in full pursuit. There was nothing sadistic about Nall's actions. He bore no hatred or ill feelings towards rodents. Unfortunately Nall was now a wild marten, and wild animals cannot expect food served on a plate. Being larger and faster, Nall could have closed the gap quite quickly on open ground. However in the woods, dodging from tree to tree, the squirrel more than matched him for nimbleness and dexterity. But then the squirrel dived the wrong way and Nall leapt for it, certain he could catch it, but the squirrel noticed just in the nick of time and scampered down a tree trunk.

"Oops, just missed me."

Wait, was the squirrel taunting him?

"Oh, stopped already? You won't survive here long if you give up that easily."

The cheeky pest! Still, Nall kept smiling. He latched his claws into the tree bark, giving the squirrel a second or two head-start, before launching after it. From branch to branch they sprang, the squirrel zigzagging left and right, up and down, yet unable to shake the pursuing marten. Nall matched him jump for jump - this was fun! He had always been fond of squirrels - their lithe forms, their athleticism... it was almost a shame he had to eat the squirrel after this chase.

Well, he didn't have to eat the squirrel straightaway.

"You can run all you want," he called after his prey. "I will catch you, little rodent."

The squirrel dropped to the ground and Nall followed, wheeling around to cut him off. The squirrel stopped dead in his tracks. Now all the marten had to do was strike.

Wait... was the squirrel swaying its tail?

The little grey rodent twitched its nose, winked, and before the marten's eyes, it grew. Taller and taller, its tail elongating, and it shifted to a two-legged stance. It shivered, tested its new broader feet, and glanced back at the stalking marten. Then it was gone again, quick as a flash. Nall blinked, straightened his eye-glasses, and began his pursuit afresh.

Two-legged or four, Nall was captivated by the squirrel. Thoughts crossed his mind, thoughts of squirrely arousal... Nall tried to ignore them, focus on being a predator...The chase continued, the lean slender squirrel bounding from branch to branch, sometimes leaping like a feral, but sometimes swinging from his arms like a bushy-tailed ape. Nall scrambled after him, more determined than ever to catch his elusive prey. On they leapt, deep into forest which the marten had never traversed. The undergrowth was thicker here. There were leaves and vines and slippery ivy, all of which hindered Nall's progress. Still the marten would not relent - not this close to snaring his prey. The dense foliage blocked almost all sunlight, and yet here, plants beyond Nall's knowledge illuminated the forest, some in a vivid amber, others in an inky indigo. The grey-furred rodent faded into the gloom and Nall slowed, following his nose, searching for that mammalian scent through the sharp and minty air. Through the flickering luminescence shot that familiar grey streak, and Nall quickly bore left in pursuit. Up ahead, thick vines hung in a dense curtain, and the squirrel leapt straight into them. When Nall ran out of branch himself, he too leapt for a vine. It slipped through his paw, but with his needle-like claws he soon found his grip. He reached for the next vine, grabbed it, struggled for grip, reached for a third, and then the whole lot gave way, sending the mustelid tumbling head-first into the tangle of plants. Stricken, the slender critter wriggled his way upwards, grasping at the swinging swaying tendrils as best he could. He batted and clutched at the plants and tumbled head over tail in a desperate attempt to stop himself falling. And by the time he stopped moving, the vines were wrapped around his entire body, immobilising him in mid-air. One of his forearms was bound helplessly above his head, and his world was a blur, his glasses having fallen off in the confusion.

A squirrel popped up. His eyes shone like beady black pearls, and he was smirking in total amusement.

"Oh dear. You weren't expecting that, were you? And you were doing so well."

The squirrel crept low, towards Nall who watched with complete bemusement.

"It's almost a shame you got caught like this, my friend. Not to worry, though. I know what's on your mind."

Suddenly the marten was smiling, murring, as a gentle paw cradled him down below. When the squirrel removed his paw, it was decidedly slick. The squirrel licked it clean.

"Now then! We don't see that every day. You must really like chasing squirrels."

Nall bit his tongue. The squirrel hopped from vine to vine, sliding down one and scurrying up the next. Nall fought and struggled to free himself, but only tangled the vines tighter. He watched the squirrel bounding around, amazed at how the rodent had mastered these slippery vines.

The squirrel returned seconds later. In one paw, he clutched what looked like dandelion seeds. He held them up, grinned, and blew them in Nall's direction. One by one, they landed on the marten's nose or else brushed by. The pine marten sneezed, blinking once or twice in confusion... and then he felt it. A warm glow, spreading up over his mind, down through his fur to the tip of every fibre, then down further still to his crotch. Still in suspension, Nall felt himself hanging heavier, and a surge of pleasure and excitement manifested itself in a deeply pleasured squeak. He glanced down his tangled body to acknowledge what he could feel: the hardest proudest arousal he had felt for weeks. He smiled and he growled, admiring his modest, hard and twitching endowment. He took in some deep, measured breaths, but a heavy twinge made him shudder in pleasure, while a string of clear fluid dripped to the forest floor below. Then there were soft paws on his cheeks, and the grey-furred rodent was there, smiling in pure mischief.

"Remember, young carnivore, the rules of nature are there to be twisted."

The squirrel leapt over to one tree-trunk, scoring a crosshatch on the bark. A clear fluid filled the furrows, and the squirrel held his paw underneath, letting the free-flowing liquid trickle into his cupped paw. Once he had gathered a good measure, he crossed back to the stranded marten, as acrobatic as ever even with a paw out of commission. Nall watched him, partly in bemusement but mostly out of curiosity, until he disappeared from view.

He heard humming behind him, and suddenly a warm soothing sensation spread over his tail. The squirrel covered the pine marten's under-tail with slick liquid, and when he slipped a single claw inside, Nall could barely suppress a squeak of surprise. Yet he had no intention of stopping the squirrel. With pheromones and maybe magic soaking into his furry form, the marten felt only warmth, and satisfaction, at the attention of his new friend. A smile spread across his needle-toothed muzzle, and his eyes began to lid.

A hard thrust snapped Nall out of his daydream. The squirrel was surprisingly strong, and Nall wriggled in the vines, adjusting to the rodent's weight. Soon he could feel something firm, between him and the squirrel, rubbing worryingly close to his tail. Paws gripped on his side, soft, but incessant. Suddenly Nall was swinging, rocked by a clearly eager squirrel grinding a surprisingly thick erection under his tail-plume. Ordinarily Nall would at least be struggling, especially against some lowly and deluded prey. Yet something was stopping him stopping the squirrel. The grey-furred rodent was purring, brushing against Nall, and the pine marten couldn't help but elicit a little shiver of excitement at the squirrel's strength and warmth. Nall glanced over his shoulder, stared the squirrel straight in the eye, smiled, and hiked his tail.

The squirrel laughed to himself and braced his paws on the marten's shoulders. Nall brushed off his prey's mockery, and instead relaxed, feeling his fur bristle. One squirrely paw was still sticky from the tree-sap, but a little matted fur was hardly Nall's main focus. Far more noticeable was the squirrel's growing precision, each rapid little thrust just that little more directed, that little more focused, heat and bluntness under his new mate's tail. The critter had now gone far beyond grinding and teasing. With one chance jostle, the squirrel found his mark and Nall's breath cut short. Frozen, trembling, the marten uttered a stuttering breath, and yielded to the squirrel's erection. The liquid under Nall's tail was as slick as ever, a natural lubricant which would not dry out, and inch by inch, the squirrel eased himself in. The marten's eyes widened, his muzzle locked in a dry gasp. Deeper and deeper the rodent sank, stretching poor Nall ever wider. Thoughts of his old Master flashed through his mind. He could just see the scowl of disapproval on the lion's scarred muzzle. What would he say? It hardly mattered now: Nall was on his own. He felt the pain, the dull stretching that made him twinge. And then... he felt no hurt. Whether it was the tree-sap, or the squirrel himself, or some other enchantment which Nall could not name, all of his pain dissipated into soft, shuddering pleasure. True, it still took some effort for such a slender animal to accommodate a surprisingly endowed squirrel. And yet, inch after twitching inch, the squirrel gave it all and Nall handled it. Eventually, the squirrel had burrowed as deeply as possible. While the squirrel began to pant, Nall flexed his claws and grinned to himself, awash with the pleasure of mating and enchantment and his own irrepressible arousal. The squirrel's slow slick withdrawal made him murr, but that pleasured murmur soon turned to a hiss when the squirrel backed up and ploughed into him once more. Then, deep in the forest suspended high above the ground, the squirrel and the pine marten began to mate. In the gloom of the glade, with gentle breezes glancing over their pelts, the two mammals shared this moment. Nall still winced with each jarring buck, but that paled against the indescribable pleasure which spread to the tip of his bristling fur with every jostle. Heat and spices filled the air, and Nall breathed them deep, their exotic warmth washing over the marten while he felt that irreplaceable fullness of another male deep inside. And judging by the squirrel's vigour, he too had succumbed to the enchantment. Claws combed through Nall's pelt, all along his back and down his sides, and the marten lashed with his own predatory paws, searching for prey he could not reach. All through the distant birdsong and the drone of insects came the dull slap of animals locked in copulation. Nall for his part held no ill feelings towards the squirrel - how could he? The now-not-so-little rodent had him bested. Yet the squirrel certainly didn't seen in any mood to hold back, hunkering over Nall and rocking him with a bevy of rapid bucks. As the taller rodent quickened the tempo, Nall's muzzle fell slack, his tongue protruding in a needy pant. His paws scrabbled in mid-air, his mind clouded in a warm haze of tree-resin and mammalian musk. And in those final few moments, the squirrel clutched Nall to his chest, staying motionless within him, shivering and twitching and waiting for his climax to spike. With a jolt and a breathless squeak, the squirrel reached his peak, and he clutched the hapless marten, trembling hard as he climaxed, shots of squirrel semen firing deep into Nall. The wide-eyed marten felt it all: every throb of the squirrel's cock, every splash of semen within him. The thought and the sensation sent the pine marten hurtling towards his own orgasm. Out of instinct he reached for his length, but even with his paws entwined it wasn't necessary, as he began to pant and drool precum, before with a hearty sigh, Nall reached his summit, spraying ropes of mustelid seed to the vines and to the forest floor below.

Tired, drained and ecstatic, the two animals hung in the forest, gulping deep of that herb-infused forest air. Nall issued a little murr, basking in his afterglow and rising into the squirrel's softly-scritching claws. The squirrel leant over, and Nall tilted his head to share a whiskery nuzzle. Once their afterglows began to fade, the two forest-dwellers broke their union, Nall gritting his teeth as the squirrel's length dragged along his insides, then slopped free, leaving a trail of squirrel cum to drip between his haunches. Nall was still dangling, helplessly, but the giddy smile on his muzzle would not fade. If only the squirrel didn't have to make such a hasty retreat.

And leave him hanging there.

Silence swept over the forest once more. Nall flexed his paws, struggling against the vines, but he was still stuck fast. He huffed. Now what was he going to do?

Just then, a familiar grey critter skittered into view up a vine. The squirrel, returned to his feral form, held a pair of spectacles in his teeth. Grinning, chittering, he placed them gently on the bridge of Nall's nose. And then he scuttled away again. Nall watched, entangled, speechless, as the little squirrel disappeared into the forest gloom.

"Er... thank you?"

By Ziegenbock