Chapter 8: A Real Squirter

Story by Tesslyn on SoFurry

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#8 of The Mating Season: Zaldon's Story


Chapter 8: A Real Squirter

When it looked as if Zaldon would never find a boyfriend in the sun village, Joli decided they should head across the sea, where a village of beautiful blue wolves were practically the trading capital of the world. It was her secret mission that Zaldon should meet and fall in love with another male. She and Melgo had, in fact, discussed this plan while Zaldon was sleeping. They were terrified of Zaldon's love for Kel, more terrified than Zaldon would ever guess. And so when Zaldon failed to even venture out let alone meet other male wolves his age, Joli packed their things and preserved a spot for them on the next merchant ship to leave the sun village.

Zaldon was not happy about this: after so many months away, he wanted to head home to Kel. And after the incident with the slave boy, he was more than suspicious of his mother's efforts: he knew for a fact now that Joli was trying to make him forget about Kel! But Zaldon couldn't forget Kel. And sighing in his cabin on the ship, he looked out the round window at the little fish that flitted by. His long nail tapped the glass. Glass. They didn't have it in the summer village, nor did they have it in the winter village. But the sun village, after years of trading with the moon village, was advanced in its technologies. Moon wolves had crossbows, advanced slings, knives that folded, and contraptions made of steel that were used to capture bears and acquire their fur for chairs, beds, rugs. It was a fascinating world, and utterly devoted to Kel, Zaldon focused his mind on these wonders rather than meeting another male.

This frustrated Joli, who even started pointing out the young, handsome merchants on the ship. "Isn't that one a cutie?" she would whisper aside to Zaldon, who would squirm in his embarrassment and cry out, "Mom!"

"Well, he is," went on Joli. "His name's Crissim and he thinks you're cute. I asked him."

Zaldon moaned and dragged a big paw over his eyes. Across the deck, young Crissim seemed to hear them: his ears pricked forward as he was winding some rope, and looking up, his eyes alighted on Zaldon. He blushed and quickly went back to work, but his eyes kept darting up at Zaldon, bashfully admiring. Zaldon turned away, bitterly wishing his mother would quit throwing every handsome wolf they met his way.

"You know, Mom," he said irritably, "one of these days, you're gonna approach a male who doesn't like males and embarrass the hell outta yourself."

"I already did," said Joli.

When Zaldon looked around, his mother was smiling at him, her lips slightly perched and her cheeks fleshing up into twinkling eyes. Zaldon laughed in spite of himself.

"It was no more than you deserved!" he said, but he took his mother into his arms and they laughed together.

It took more than a week to reach the moon village, mostly because that hot and relentless spring, there was no wind. The ship would languish on the flat, faceless sea for days before it caught the breeze again. In the mean time, Zaldon firmly avoided Crissim, who seemed (under Joli's egging) to have gathered his nerve. There was one night when all the sailors became drunk, and Crissim, with crossed eyes, approached Zaldon, even grabbing his cock. Zaldon had quickly shut himself up in his room: drunken merchants were infamous for raping their passengers. Crissim had banged on Zaldon's door, calling that he knew Zaldon wanted him to fuck him as much as he wanted to fuck him, so why not open the door and make them both happy?

Zaldon could not deny his desires: he sat on his hammock with a big erect pink cock, and when Crissim kicked the door in, he burst out laughing. Zaldon covered himself and demanded that he get out, but Crissim staggered across the room, and stumbling into Zaldon, gave his lips and neck a series of sloppy kisses that left a tingling pleasure in their wake. His paw fumbled for Zaldon's cock, and when he muttered a string of strange words, Zaldon realized they were in the moon tongue. He pressed Zaldon to the hammock and fell heavily on top of him, kissing him so deeply that his tongue filled Zaldon's mouth. And thinking with a hard dick of Kel, Zaldon moaned and closed his arms around Crissim, sinking into the kiss and those fumbling but firm fingers on his dick.

They were making out, moaning and touching each other in a frenzy, when a bunch of Crissim's friends staggered to a halt in the doorway, and seeing the two of them touching so hot and heavy, they started chanting: "Fuck 'im! Fuck 'im! Fuck 'im!"

Zaldon cried out in alarm when Crissim reached under and fingered his anus. Did he really think he was going to fuck Zaldon in front of all these hooting wolves? He gave a choked cry when Crissim deepened the kiss and sank two fingers this time, stretching Zaldon open. He could hear the other wolves chanting as Crissim, still blurry-eyed and eager in his lust, pulled back and buried his face between Zaldon's hard thighs.

"I'm gonna fuck you," Crissim slurred between sucks, "I'mma ride that ass. I'mma tame you into whimpering under me, you big sexy --" Crissim slurped Zaldon so hard, his rigid cock exploded.

"Oh, g-god!"

"Mmm, you're a real squirter, aren't you? You're so pent-up -- relax, Zaldon. . . ."

The sailors cheered as Crissim licked his lips, and Zaldon, thoroughly humiliated, shoved Crissim off and hurried toward the door, his big paws over his spit-covered cock. He shoved the sailors aside and hurried into the hall. He could hear Crissim calling after him, "Where you goin', baby? I was just gettin' started!"

Zaldon flew toward the stairs. Daylight poured down them, white and bright and frail in the pale dawn. He ran up, taking the stairs two at a time. He was furious. It was more than obvious Joli had sent Crissim after him in some attempt to wipe Kel from his thoughts. But it hadn't worked at all: he had thought of Kel as he was kissing Crissim, of Kel's paws on his body, of Kel's mouth closed over his cock! And his yearning, his bitter longing had only intensified. Damn that he had ever come to the summer village!

The deck was in a bustle when Zaldon reached it, and he realized it was because they had pulled into the harbor. Merchants were shouting orders as their sailors unloaded wares in wooden crates, thumping back and forth with heavy feet, their eyes still a little hazy from the previous night's drunk-fest. Zaldon spotted his mother at the foremast and ran to her, furious. Joli smiled to see that he was covering his cock and balls: so he had enjoyed Crissim after all!

"Mother," said Zaldon through his teeth, "this is going to stop! You can't force someone to -- to fall out of love!"

"Oh, Zaldy," said Joli, almost impatiently. "You're so young! Don't you realize you're going to have a great many lovers? There are other wolves in this vast world, my son! I want you to see that with your own pretty black eyes." She smiled fondly. "Bayne's eyes."

Seeing the loving way in which she was looking at him, Zaldon found it hard to be angry, and he didn't argue anymore when they walked the gangway to the dock. But they weren't at the moon village at all. They had come to a small trading post some miles from the actual village, a mini market where wolves selling their wares set up shop directly after leaving their ships. Zaldon could see wolves moving along the market streets, baskets on their arms, pups on their hips, some even with sheep or goats or the rare cows on tethers. He could see fierce warriors at the gates (the guards of this place), and the little females who fluttered their lashes at them and giggled as they passed. Some of these wolves were autumn wolves, Zaldon could tell, for a great deal of the autumn wolves were either dark gray or silver. But all the rest were blue, the deep and deliciously vibrant blue of the moon wolves. He could already hear the moon wolf chatter on the air, that slow and melodious language that his mother had already taught him in fragments.

Their traveling packs jangling with pots and pans, Zaldon and his mother made their way down through the crowds and into the market streets to a stall, where Joli rented a little stall from the market overseer. The male was old and bent and the fur on his chin had grown into a stringy beard. He smiled with brown teeth at Joli and smoothed his fingers suggestively over her palm as she traded him a golden ring for the booth ticket.

Indignant, Zaldon appeared at his mother's side, and the old wolf stopped his advances at the sight of such a big male. Zaldon was so big, in fact, that the old wolf must've assumed he was Joli's aggressive mate, and averting his gaze, he pointed down the aisle and told Joli where she could find her booth for the day. Zaldon slammed his big paw on the ticket and snatched it up, snorting so hard through his nostrils that the bitterly afraid overseer's mane fluttered back from his face. Joli smiled at Zaldon's protectiveness, and together they passed down the aisle and set up shop.

Many wolves came to their stall, and instantly recognizing the famous Joli, they were more than eager to buy her wares: carvings, jewelry, and trinkets were sold left and right, and very soon, Joli had new pots to replace the old ones, shiny rings on her fingers, pretty combs, brushes, and clips for her mane. She even managed to haggle away a very expensive carving and obtained for Zaldon a new dagger.

During the long day at market, Joli encouraged Zaldon to go on the prowl and have fun almost to the point of nagging him, but Zaldon kept where he was for two reasons: one, he was extremely wary of that nasty old market overseer; and two, he had no desire to be with anyone except Kel.

"I love, Kel, Mom," Zaldon hissed under his breath as a young male made an exchange with his mother. "Why can't you understand that? I'm asking you -- shit, I'm almost begging you -- to let the matter drop!"

"Because, Zaldon, you will never be happy if you spend your entire life pinning for a male you can't have -- thank you, dear. And come again," Joli added to her customer.

Zaldon, who was sitting with his arms folded across his chest, huffed a lock of white mane from his eyes and glared in the opposite direction. He heard another customer come to the stall: the wet scent of pussy, flowers, and perfumed oils. A female. Soon enough, he heard her shrill, giggly little voice chattering on in the moon wolf tongue as she purchased a necklace from his mother. He caught broken snatches of what she said: something about sneaking out to market and who was the cutie? Zaldon bit his lip. He glanced at the female out of the corner of his eye and his heart leapt: she was eying him up and down! Her brightly girlish eyes traced over his sculpted chest and bulging arms, up his thick neck and to his face. She was very young, just a little younger than he, and she was skinny to the point that the bones stood prominent in her high cheeks. She wasn't very pretty -- in fact, she wasn't pretty at all. And when she put on the necklace she had only just bought from his mother, it somehow made her look even less attractive. Her gray mane was very wild and tangled, and all over her skinny frame were straps with daggers tucked in them, but behind her ear . . . a flower. A gray moon wolf? One of her parents must've been of the autumn village, for there wasn't a hint of blue in her fur. She had a slight autumn accent when she spoke the moon wolf language that grated Zaldon's ears.

Zaldon quickly looked away. The sun was going down. Thank god! Other wolves were closing their stalls and customers were heading home. Now he and his mother could head to the moon village for the night and get the hell away from this --

"This is my son Zaldon," Joli said, cutting into Zaldon's thoughts. "Yes, he's very cute and very single --"

"Mom!" Zaldon burst.

The ugly little female laughed, and to Zaldon's horror, she offered to walk with them back to the moon village.

"My father is captain of the village guard," she said, "and would love nothing more than to welcome the famous Joli into our home!"

"It would be our pleasure," said Joli, ignoring it when Zaldon glared at her.

They packed up the stall, and as they were leaving the empty market, Zaldon couldn't believe it when the skinny little girl slipped her arm in his. She fluttered her lashes up at him and said dotingly, "I'm Alea."

Zaldon set his teeth. "So?" He shook her off.

"Zaldon!" cried Joli, who had never seen her son be so rude in all fifteen years of his life.

But Zaldon was fed up with his mother's stubborn efforts. He was suddenly fed up with everything.

"Look, you skinny little bitch," Zaldon said to the girl, drawing an angry gasp from his mother, "I don't like pussy. I like cock. Big, stinky, dripping, cock. Cock, cock, cock, cock, cock --"

"I've got plenty of that," said the girl with a laugh. "Or so my father tells me."

Joli laughed too, but Zaldon wasn't amused. What would it take to get the message through to these two? He liked cock, and not only that, but Kel's dark cock in particular.

"And you can call me a bitch all you like," went on Alea, "it doesn't fool me: you're really very sweet and sensitive. I saw you defending you mother against Aldo earlier."

"So?" Zaldon demanded roughly. His eyes drifted everywhere in his embarrassment, and when he noticed his mother's amusement out of the corner of his eye, he vowed he would never forgive her for this!

"So other males would have looked the other way," answered Alea. "Aldo isn't a male to be fucked with, to put it mildly."

"You should listen to her, pup," said a voice.

Zaldon, Joli, and Alea had been walking along the beach toward the moon village when the voice broke into their conversation. It came from behind them, mocking and cold. They turned: standing in the moonlight, two hulking male warriors either side of him, was the old market overseer. He was a hunched old wolf with cracked brown teeth and small black eyes. He rubbed gnarled paws and smiled nastily, then gestured his wolves forward.

"We'll take all the carvings afterward," Aldo told his wolves. "And her pretty trinkets too."

Zaldon started forward with a growl, ripping his new dagger from its sheath. He was surprised when Alea started forward too, screaming a warrior cry that almost made their attackers hesitate. But they hesitated only for a second, launching into Zaldon and Alea with dark smiles. One gave Alea such a swift uppercut to the face that she crumpled at once to the sand, her own little dagger falling from her paw as Joli gave a shocked scream. Zaldon was enraged at this and fought wildly, swinging left and right, snarling, roaring, and sending his attackers flying back. But Zaldon was a young and as of yet untested warrior. He was soon kneeling in the sand, blood dribbling from his lip as nearby, Joli knelt over Alea's still body.

"You monsters!" Joli snarled. "Hitting a little girl like that in the face --"

Aldo started toward Joli, who fell back in the sand, glowering as he approached.

"Don't you touch me!" she sneered.

"Silence, bitch!" Aldo growled, and grabbing Joli by the mane, he lowered himself down on her. His quick fingers yanked at the earrings in her ear and right nipple, the bracelets fastened to her wrist. A necklace that Melgo had given her was snapped into pieces in the desperate struggle. She twisted and growled when Aldo sank his fingers in her sex: he could have the damned jewelry but never that! God, never!

"NO!" Zaldon roared. "LEAVE HER ALONE!"

Joli was, of course, big and strong and might have broken free, but one of the males restraining Zaldon was called over, and he obediently held Joli's wrists to the sand, smiling lustily on her jiggling breasts as Aldo forced his shriveled little cock up and in. Joli wiggled and gasped, her shapely body twisting, but with every curse, scream, and insult, she was smacked brutally across the face, so brutally that blood was soon dribbling from her nose.

Zaldon started up again with a roar. He fought hard and relentless, but he was punched, smacked, beaten, and kicked once more into wincing submission. The warrior managed to drag him down to the sand, and giving a taunting laugh, he smacked his ass and forced him to kneel again, holding his paws hard behind his back.

Zaldon knelt in the sand, his head bowed, his ears flat as he tried to block out the horrific sounds coming from only a few feet away: the steady grunting, the squelching, the screams of his mother. The strong warrior holding him -- as if he couldn't take it anymore -- suddenly knelt behind Zaldon. Zaldon felt with a thrill of horror that the wolf's cock was erect against his tail. He felt the soft head nudge his buttocks as the wolf, with heaving little sighs, reached around and slowly fondled him.

"No -- s-stop --" Zaldon said through bloody teeth. He closed his eyes against the pleasure and hated himself when his cock throbbed in this big warrior's paw. Oh, why hadn't he just let Crissim fuck him? Then he wouldn't be so pent-up and -- "No, d-don't -- not there!"

The warrior's paw gently caressed Zaldon's heavy balls, then pulled at Zaldon's cock in long, loving strokes. "That's it, young one," he whispered in Zaldon's ear. "Let's have a little party of our own. You like it when I touch you. Oh, yes, you like . . ."

Zaldon sobbed a little, his face red with the strain of holding back: his dick was seeping out pre-cum. And he felt so helpless suddenly, trapped under this big wolf with his paws held tight behind his back. He gasped when he was forced by the neck onto paws and knees, and he let out a cry when the wolf grabbed the base of his tail and lifted it. He clenched his ass cheeks: he was being fingered under his tail, slowly and carefully, and with such a wet finger that he couldn't hold back anymore: he squirted all over the sand with a desperate, weak little cry. He was relieved when his cock flopped soft against his balls after this delicious release, but the wolf only reached down and started that wonderful caressing again, even pausing to slap Zaldon's dick back and forth. Zaldon trembled all over: he didn't think he could take it anymore! Maybe his mother was right: maybe he should stop starving himself and start living. But with this brutal rapist? He wanted to die when that burly arm locked tight around his throat, when his molester's foul breath came in his ear, "Let's see you sob and squirt again, young one. It gets me all hot . . . Come on. Tremble and sigh . . ." And his paw kept up its steady stroking.

Zaldon closed his eyes and sagged in the male's grasp. His body trembled all over with the strain, but before he had to worry about coming yet again, the warrior's big arm was suddenly snatched from his throat. Zaldon winced as a warrior scream split the night. He looked over his shoulder: Alea was standing over his molester, dagger in paw, a scowl on her ugly face. She had already cut the male's throat. The warrior holding Joli's wrists looked up with a snarl. He leapt toward Alea, but she flipped out of reach with a whooping cry, and landing behind the male, she stabbed the dagger in the back of his head. He sank forward in a toss of sand. Alea ripped another dagger from the strap on her arm and pointed it at Aldo. Aldo quickly backed off Joli, his little withered penis now soft, his paws in the air. He was glaring at Alea, who smiled in triumph.

Zaldon knelt in wonder in the sand, his mouth open. This was surreal: skinny, teeny Alea had just rescued him and his mother -- who were both large enough to crush her into powder. Zaldon wanted to curl up and die. He had just been saved by a female, and that female was Alea to boot.

"Did you really think," said Alea, sneering over the long dagger at Aldo, "that I could be murdered so easily? I am Alea, daughter of the fiercest warrior in all of the moon village. And don't you forget it."

"What are you going to do with me?" said Aldo, sinking with fear to his knees when the three wolves were standing over him. He was small and suddenly seemed so old and frail to Zaldon -- but that didn't stop Zaldon from wanting to crack his skull.

Joli shocked them all when she stepped forward, and balling up her fist, she gave Aldo the back of it in a quick and cutting blow. Aldo dropped back like a sack, smacking his head on a rock. Blood oozed over the sand, and Joli turned away with a heave of her breasts, not bothering to see if her rapist was dead or alive.

"Nothing," she answered and marched away.