FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Jill stood at the prow of the boat, looking out over a seemingly endless expanse of sea. The boat was an old luxury yacht, probably older than her professor was, though the islanders had outfitted it for speed. In the last six weeks she had been to island nations in the South Pacific she hadn't even known existed. Their team of four--Professor Wytham and three graduate students, including herself--had continued the professor's lifelong work in the region. Their research was among some of the most rigorous cataloging ever done on these islands, and Professor Wytham was confident that their work included the discovery of three entirely new species. But now, Jill had a bad feeling. They had left one of the outlying islands of Kiribati seven days ago, with Wytham excitedly repeating rumors of a distant atoll whose indigenous species had been altered by nuclear testing in the region after World War II. That's how the professor had worded it. She knew enough of the native language to understand their word for it: "monsters." Either way, Jill was convinced the whole thing was a wild goose chase. These islander were poor, and Professor Wytham was not. How many days until they stopped, gesturing wildly around and insisting that the island was here just a few weeks ago. A mysterious, convenient Xanadu, and the cost of their passage to the elaborate ruse was as much as the local GDP. And in the meantime, Jill shared cramped quarters with Melanie, the other girl on their expedition, who talked constantly while they were alone and made unsubtle references to ways they could 'pass the time' in their cabin together. Anything "luxury" about their luxury yacht had left the vessel before Jill had been born. She suspected her "cabin" of having once been a pantry. The ship was packed full of islanders who smelled like fish and leered at her, the men and the women both. She sighed. Science, she reminded herself. If she only went places with feather beds, polite conversation, and a proper shower, there would be nothing new to be discovered. On the off chance this island did exist, it could vastly further their knowledge of mutative drift and radioactive adaptation. And practically everything on the island would be a new species, so she could fulfil her promise to name something after her little sister, though she was secretly worried that "Jane Doe" was too plain and ridiculous a name for a new species. Damn their fathers' twisted humor, she thought for the thousandth time in her life. Her sister was lucky. Jill would give anything to trade names with her. Jill sighed into the wind. The wind shifted, bringing a new scent to her nose. She frowned and squinted toward the horizon. "Uh, Professor?" Dr. Richard Wytham was a tall, dashing 'roo who looked far too young to have two doctorates and so many papers to his name. He looked up from the journal of notes he was reviewing, sitting on the battered deck behind Jill. "Eh?" he said. "You should come look at this." Professor Wytham came to stand at her shoulder. She didn't have to point. The horizon had turned dark and as they watched, they could see the clouds changing color as they rolled toward them. Jil had never seen lightning flash green before. "Damn," the professor muttered. He turned to to alert the crew, but they saw it at that moment. Soon the deck was crawling with islanders who alternated between staring into the stormcell, shouting frantically in their native language, and doing whatever they could to prepare the ship for the storm. The Professor put his hand on her shoulder. "Find Melanie. Get below decks. Go!" Jill's hooves thumped hard as she ran across the deck. She skidded right past the stairs as a wave hit the boat. The deck hissed as the first sheet of rain wetted its worn planks. Jane caught herself on the railing and worked against the rising wind and the tilt of the deck to try to reach the stairwell. "Jill!" Melanie stuck her head out from below decks. "What's going on?!" "Storm!" Jill shouted, as if it weren't obvious. The clouds rolled over them like night falling, and when she looked up, that eerie green lightning laced through the clouds ominously. "Go back down!" she shouted. The ship lurched and Jill had to clutch at the railing to keep from being tilted over. "What?!" Melanie shouted back. Jill worked hand over hand as rain and seawater dashed across her face. She couldn't spare a gesture. With the wind, rain, and slick deck, it was taking every muscle she had to try to make it back to the stairwell. Thunder boomed overhead, making her yelp with alarm. She glanced toward the prow again, hoping to see Dr. Wytham. He could catch hold of her arm, pull the three of them together down below. She didn't see him. Instead, she saw the shadow of a huge wave as it arched over the deck. She gasped in alarm, only to cough on a mouthful of rain. The wave struck like a drunken suckerpunch. The ship lurched out from under her feet and the railing wrenched itself out of her grip. In the same moment, as if in slow-motion, she saw the side of the stairwell lurch with the rest of the ship. It struck Melanie in the temple. Water swallowed the collie in the next instant, pushing her limp body underneath Jill's hooves. Underneath her hooves? It was only then Jill realized she was off the ship entirely, kicked off the deck like an amateur cowboy off a seasoned bull. She had the queer sense of flying as she saw Melanie's body pushed off the edge of the yacht into the frothy sea. In the next instant, those same waters claimed Jill as well. The sensation of flying the surface of the water swallowed her. Hanging there, submerged, everything seeming calm. Then she broke the surface, gasping for air. Waves battered her head like highschool bullies, dunking her each time just before she could get a full breath, so that she came up sputtering seawater. Light filled her vision, but it wasn't accompanied by thunder. It wasn't the flash of lightning. It was more like. . .static. Her vision blinked again, her eyes flooded with incoherent light. The ship was gone. Another flash, and it was there again. The cockpit had been shorn off the deck by the wind or the waves. When light flashed this time, it was lightning striking the hull, and the thunder was accompanied by the sound of wood wrenching itself into pieces. Her vision was hazing. She was dunked again and swallowed a mouthful of seawater. She thrashed wildly, trying to regain the surface. Air. Oxygen! She was drowning. Light flashed again as she kicked for the surface. She broke free, gasping desperately, and the ship and the storm were both gone. Clouds floated daintily in a pristine sky. She waded, catching her breath and wondering if she had, in fact, drowned. She turned, but as she did so, that inexplicable light flooded her vision again. The storm was back, and as she turned, she found the ship as well. She had a half-second to wonder where it had gone before the plank of wood struck her in the forehead. Blackness followed. Along with that same, comforting sensation of flight.

***

Jill awoke to an unfamiliar screech above her and the sun baking her battered body. She was so parched that her lips cracked when she opened her mouth. She had to wipe at the salty crust around her eyes before she could open them. The overhead screech sounded again and she squinted up at the sky. Something circled overhead. Vultures? she wondered grimly. But that was ridiculous. Vultures didn't scavenge the coast, so it must be gulls. Only one though, and it seemed huge. She stood up, despite the aches of her body. Reflexively, she covered her breasts. The sea had claimed her loose, comfortable blouse. Her khakis, thankfully, had stayed in place. Her fur would protect her from the worst of the sun and temperature extremes, she decided. Modesty, on the other hand, didn't appear to be an issue. Wherever she was, there was no sign of civilization down either stretch of beach. "A deserted, uncharted island in the middle of the pacific," she muttered to herself. "Fantastic. I'm surprised there's no active volcano in the middle just to polish off the cliche completely. Maybe I'll find a hatch and a smoke monster." She squinted inland to be sure there was no such volcano. The sea had swept her glasses off her face, so everything was a perfect blur. But no, no volcano. A couple of low, craggy hills broke the line of jungle, but no volcano. She surveyed the beach as best she could. No salvage from the ship had washed up, she realized. Not a single plank or other passenger or piece of debris. Her foot nudged something and she looked down. Could she be so lucky? Yes! Her glasses. She sighed with relief and bent to pick them up, doing a second survey of the beach after she put them on. Nothing to salvage. She made a mental checklist: fresh water, shelter, food. She wasn't going to find those things on the beach. Once she ensured her survival, she could come back to the beach and prepare a rescue signal. As it was, she was at least a day dehydrated, possibly more, so water was rapidly going to be her most important priority. The screech from the sky came again and she looked up. With her glasses on, the thing was in focus now. Not a gull. No, her dehydration was clearly already causing hallucinations, because above her, clear as daylight, was the mottled orange and grey wingspan of a Pteranadon longiceps. Funny, she had always pictured them as green. Fish, she thought. Pteranadons eat fish, so she could return to this beach with a makeshift spear or net if she couldn't forage food in the jungle. Ridiculous, she thought. I'm making plans based on a hallucination. Her next thought was, if pteranadons eat fish, why is that one swooping at me? She yelped as the impossible, prehistoric creature tucked its wing into a stoop and dove at her with frightening speed. She ran for the jungle's edge, her hooves slipping ineffectually at the sand. She staggered, off-balance, and pushed with her hands as well as her feet, kicking up a wild spray of sand as she scrambled for the jungle. The pteranadon caught up with her with ease, but it didn't fall upon her like she had feared. It rained sand on her as it came to a halt behind her and battered her with its wings until she made it to the jungle, the whole time squawking and screeching at her. She finally made it to the tree line and stood there behind a trunk, feeling a line of heat down her back where the thing had scratched her. It stood on the beach on tiny hindlegs, its wings outthrust as it danced and screeched at her. It was only then that Jill saw the small sandy hill behind it. "Just a mother protecting its eggs," she said with a sigh, catching her breath. "Not a monster trying to eat me. I'm sorry!" she yelled at the thing, then turned toward the forest. Something flickered out of her vision when she turned. The slightest movement, with no sound accompanying it. Something real? Or another hallucination? "Hello?" she called out. The jungle was still. Too still, she knew. She'd only been in two dozen or so nearly identical island jungles in the last few months. Water, she reminded herself. Somewhere inland there was bound to be a source of freshwater, even if she had to dig for it. She picked her way deeper into the foliage, her mind racing. Everything she saw was unfamiliar. Were these plants the result of radioactive mutation, as Dr. Wytham had theorized? She stepped between two trees and her hoof hit soil. A path, she realized with a start. A game trail, probably. This would definitely lead her to water! Motion flitted across the edge of her vision again. She suppressed the urge to call out again. If there were animals large enough to leave a trail this size, she didn't want to frighten them or call attention to her presence. The former in case she could catch and eat them, the later in case it could catch and eat her. She turned to follow the path deeper into the jungle. Something moved. She was sure of it this time. A flash of movement just as she turned, as if something were watching her from behind. She spun around, and this time heard it move, whatever it was. Leaves wobbled where it had been. Something, someone was watching her and didn't want her to know it. She turned back down the trail. "Hello?" she called out. The game was the least of her worries now. There was rustling behind her. Close. She cried out in alarm and ran. There was no mistaking the sounds that followed: something was chasing her. She cursed her hooves. They were great for running through a forest, but the ground here was wetter and sucked at her hooves when she tried to pull them up. She ran as fast as she could manage in her state, but her body was sapped of energy. She felt sluggish, and the wet ground of the jungle was making it worse. She listened for her pursuers, but strangely, they seemed to get no closer. Her hoof hit something. It felt foreign. Rope? she thought incredulously. Then she heard the taut snap, the creak of an abused tree trunk. The rope bit into her leg and pulled. She cried out in alarm as her legs were pulled out from under her. Her head struck the soft ground as she fell and her world went black again.

***

Something tugged at her nipple ring, awakening her. "Melanie, I told you, no. Please." She felt groggy. Her face felt hot and her brain sluggish. And she was so very thirsty. The tugging persisted and then she heard teeth clack against the metal. She opened her eyes to see a pair of striped, upside down legs in front of her. Her situation came back to her in a rush. Melanie was dead. She was stranded. And now she was. . .trapped? Her leg was strung up in a hanging snare. She tried to cover her breasts but found her arms had been bound behind her. Whoever had bit her nipple ring growled now and grunted. This time it bit her nipple. Sharp teeth! She yelped and tried to twist away. "Hey! Stop that!" The creature jumped back when she yelled at it. Now that she could see past the legs, she realized there were two of them. Sabertooth cats? Smilodon sapiens, possibly, though the species' existence was generally regarded as a myth. A female stood back from her, arms crossed. She wore only a stretched fur that hugged her crotch, hung from braided palm strands. The male was adorned in a nearly identical fashion and neither seemed terribly concerned that the clothing did nothing to hide their genitals. Piercings peppered their body as their primary adornment, bird ribs mostly. The sharp, hollow bones pierced both nipples on the male and the female, and they both had shaped ribs into loops to thread through dozens of holes in their ears.The female even had a skull to decorate her hair. Jane squinted at it. Reptilian, not avian. They appeared to be juveniles, preteens by modern standards, still too young to reproduce. But they both held crude spears, which, despite their primitive construction, appeared quite deadly. The female had her arms crossed and was glowering at the boy. Jill blushed when she saw him growing erect, his cock pushing out of his loincloth casually. The girl said something, and Jill could recognize the disdain without having to understand the language, which seemed primitive, consisting of several grunts and only a few vocalizations. Jill's academic fascination faded as she realized that she was at the mercy of these two savage children. Even as fear and her survival instinct rekindled, the female strode over her, saying something angrily to the boy. The girl slapped her thigh, squeezed it, then held up the small, skinned carcass that was tied to her spear. She jabbered angrily at what Jill had to assume was her brother, slapped Jill's thigh again, and rattled the small bird carcass at him. It dawned on her slowly: the girl was arguing for skinning and eating her. Look at this meat, she must be saying. "Please!" she croaked, her throat dry. "Please, I'll do anything. I can help you!" She twisted wildly against the rope that held her upside down. The girl grunted and struck her in the ribs with the butt of her spear, driving the breath out of Jill's body. She gasped for air as the blow set her body swinging, the tableau of the two primitive siblings rocking alarmingly in front of her. The male argued back angrily. He was openly stroking his cock with one hand now, and Jill blushed as some part of her considered how well endowed he was, considering his age. He gestured with his other hand, making an unmistakable reference to her breasts. The girl, flat-chested, snarled at that and snapped back angrily. The boy changed tactics. His voice changed and he stepped closer to his sister. His voice was soft, his grunts slow. This must be what a smooth talking savage sounds like, Jill thought. The girl was already standing close to her, and as the boy moved to her side, they moved in front of her hanging body. Jill blushed darkly. Their genitals were directly in front of her, and as she swung there, helpless, the boy slid his paw down and cupped the girl's crotch, still stroking himself with the other hand. The girl argued, tried to pull away. But the boy didn't let her. He growled angrily at her. Jill couldn't see, but she thought he must have bitten her, for she yelped softly. Right before Jill's muzzle, the boy pushed aside the tight pelt covering the girl's crotch and pushed two fingers inside of her. Jill stared, hearing the girl moan. She seemed so young, and her cunny seemed immature, but she was wet when the fingers spread her to slide inside. The boy was still talking, convincing her, Jill guessed, as he fingerfucked her casually in front of the doe's face. Jill couldn't keep the smell of smilodon musk out of her nose and her body trembled as she inhaled it, her body's reaction instinctive and embarrassing. She could only stare as she watched the girl drop her spear to hang on to the boy's form. There was no talking now, only the wet sound of those fingers pumping into the girl. She moaned and then yelped, and Jill watched as her spread pussy clenched tightly around the fingers. Her hips bucked and Jill's nose was sprinkled with the girl's wetness as she came. The boy pulled his fingers out of the girl and roughly pushed the girl to one side. He knelt in front of Jill, holding his fingers in front of her face. Jill cringed, trying to twist her face away from him. The scent of the fingers was potent. Thirty minutes on a strange island and she was going to let two minors force her into some kind of bizarre sexual ritual? No. She was still a civilized doe, with a devoted boyfriend waiting for her back home. The blatant invitations from Melanie had been repulsive enough. These two cats were children! The thought of Melanie stopped her, though. Melanie was dead. She was strung up by two vicious predators who had just finished deciding whether or not to eat her. She had no tools for survival and no way to get fresh water. Water. She swallowed around the dryness in her throat. The sabertooth's hand glistened wetly as he held it in front of her. He snarled angrily and thrust the fingers at her. She yelped suddenly when something pulled at her hair. The girl had slipped out of her field of view and was behind her now, pulling her hair ruthlessly. When she opened her mouth to cry out, the male thrust his fingers inside her muzzle, laughing at her. She clenched her eyes shut, trying not to think about her act as she sucked on the fingers, licking them clean for their moisture as the male pumped them into her mouth suggestively. Behind her, she heard the girl laughing too. Jill let out a soft sound of relief as the fingers released her hair. The boy pulled the fingers out of her mouth and stepped back. Jill licked her lips. The moisture of the girl's orgasm had barely been enough to start easing the cracking of her lips. The boy grinned down at her and said something in the bizarre, primitive language of his. Jill shook her head and he frowned. He snarled at her, gesturing wildly with his spear and repeating his monologue. She shook her head again, tears at the corner of her eyes. "I don't understand you! You're speaking gibberish, you stupid brat!" He stopped talking when she started her outburst. He looked past her to the girl and said something. She said something back and then he looked back at Jill. "Tunwa?" She stared at him. "What?" Then they both laughed at her. She squirmed in her ropes, worried and desperate. The girl behind her poked her with the butt of her spear and she yelped and stopped squirming. The male grinned at her and tossed his spear down. Then he reached down and untied his loincloth, which wasn't doing him much good anyway. He grabbed his cock and squeezed so that precum dripped out of the tip. He grinned and then pointed at her and pointed at his cock, speaking slowly in his gibberish language. He pointed at her again, then made a crude gesture with his hand and muzzle, miming a blowjob. She blushed dark red and he laughed at her. Then he pulled at a strap slung across his torso from shoulder to hip. When he pulled it off, she realized it was a leather pouch built to be easy to carry across the back. One end had been tied off around a bone, the leg bone of a small reptile by the look of it. He untied it, put the end to his lips, and turned up the pouch, then spat a mouthful of water at her, laughing when it hit her in the face. She yelped in alarm, then licked what she could reach of the water that dripped off of her. The male gestured again with his fist at his mouth, then shook the waterskin at her. The proposition was pretty clear. She licked her cracked lips and slowly nodded. The male laughed, with delight instead of derision this time. He strode over to her and upturned the skin, dribbling water onto her muzzle that she strained to catch. She lapped and gasped, catching as much as she could until he pulled the skin away, tying it off again. He'd only given her enough to wet her mouth. Which was exactly what he'd intended, she realized. Suddenly, small hands were on her breasts. The girl, she realized. They squeezed her full C-cups, pricking them gently with her claws. Jill moaned softly against her will and the male took the opportunity to stuff her muzzle full of his cock. Jill clenched her eyes shut, trying to think of anyplace but here. She sucked on the cock in her mouth, imagining it was her boyfriend back home. The hands on her breasts were too small to be his, though, and the two siblings spoke over her suspended body, shattering the illusion. Survival, she told herself. I'm doing this for survival. The male growled in pleasure, thrusting his hips into her face. Despite his age, his cock filled her muzzle. She stroked her tongue over the soft barbs along the shaft. If she got him off quickly, it would be over sooner. The girl's hands on her breasts were distracting. So small, there was no denying the age of the girl as she was groped. Jill felt herself growing wet despite the situation. Unlike the cock in her mouth, the fingers were gentle and curious. They tugged reverently at the metal rings in her nipples and squeezed at the fullness of her flesh, commenting on them in her strange language. The male grunted something brief in reply. Jill's ears pricked at the sound of his voice. It was tight, strained. He was close. She shut her eyes tightly and sucked hard, bobbing her head as best as she could as he thrust his hips at her. He grabbed her hanging body and pushed his hips roughly into her face, roaring out a strangled snarl as his seed jetted into her throat. She closed her mouth around the base of his shaft, swallowing quickly and sucking on the throbbing shaft for more. Regardless of its source, the fluid was rich with nutrients and moisture, and she wasn't going to let it waste. She sucked hard on the cock long after the male would have pulled away, using her tongue to milk the last of his cum out of the shaft. Finally, the boy pushed her body away and she swung away from the girl's hands. The boy asked his sister something. To Jill's ears, the reply sounded eager and excited. She wondered what they were agreeing to now. Hopefully, not eating her. She couldn't see either one of them now. When the boy had pushed her, she had started twisting on the rope that held her up. "Water!" she said desperately. "You promised me water!" The girl walked into view then, kneeling by her head. She was nude, having discarded her ineffectual loincloth just as her brother had. She picked up the waterskin and gestured at Jill with it. Jill nodded desperately and the girl grinned wide. She untied the skin and held it up to her own lips, taking three long swallows as Jill watched, whimpering. The girl filled her mouth a fourth time, but didn't swallow. Instead she roughly grabbed the back of Jill head and kissed her. Water flooded her muzzle along with the girl's tongue and Jill swallowed it desperately, sucking on the girl's tongue without shame and licking up every drop she could reach. The girl purred, her lips vibrating against Jill's lips. She continued kissing her for several long moments after the water was long gone, then released her muzzle and head all at once, leaving Jill breathless. She stood, and Jill had a clear view of the girl's wet pussy inches from her muzzle. The girl said one word in her language and Jill heard movement outside her field of view. Then the ground rushed up to meet her. She yelped and tucked her chin, taking most of the force of her short fall on her neck and shoulders. The breath was driven out of her and she squirmed helpless on the ground, gasping for breath. They had planned on her being stunned, part of her realized. The snare around her ankle was loose enough that she could escape after being cut down, but her body wouldn't respond while she couldn't breathe. Her muzzle gaped, trying to pull in air, but her diaphragm wasn't cooperating. In the small window of her helplessness, the male was already sitting hard on her thighs, binding her legs together with the length of palm rope she had been hanging from. His sister was ready, too. She had a long branch, mostly straight, that was longer than Jill was tall. She walked over and grabbed Jill's wrists, pushing the branch between her back and her bindings, then between her legs as well. Jill was incredulous as she realized what was happening, but sure enough, the boy stooped and picked up the branch by her head while the girl held it by her feet. The boy said a command and the two little cubs struggled and lifted the branch onto their shoulders. Given their height, Jill's breasts only barely cleared the jungle floor, but she was lifted like the prize catch from the king's hunt. When the two set out into the jungle, she couldn't believe their speed. The ground rushed by her, disturbingly close and fast, as the two smilodons sprinted through the jungle with ease, barely making a sound. It occurred to her how hopeless it had been for her to try to run from them. She had actually put herself in a more easily exploited position by bumbling into their snare than if she had simply confronted them. They headed inland and within a few minutes, the trio emerged in a small clearing at the base of the island's hills. A firepit had been dug in front of a small cave opening in the side of the rocky hill. Skins and furs were stretched between some of the surrounding trees to dry and the smell of meat rose from palm leaf bundles wrapped by the edge of the fire. Jill guessed a half dozen or more people must live here, but none were in sight, likely hunting or gathering during the daylight hours. She was brought to a log near the fire and dropped onto it unceremoniously. The bark scraped at her breasts and the shorn edge of the log pushed into her stomach, leaving her knees on the ground. The branch was pulled away and discarded. Within a moment, the girl had seated herself on the log in front of Jill's muzzle. She could feel the boy's hands at the waist of her khakis, tugging. They had already been pulled off her hips by the pull of the snare, staying on her legs by virtue of her prominent ass and the unusual orientations her body had been in. When he tugged, they came away easily. He let out a surprised snarl when her panties were revealed--his claws solved that problem and Jill yelped when his carelessness left her buttcheeks lightly scored by his claws. The girl said something in her tongue and touched the back of Jill's head. The girl's young pussy was inches from Jill's nose, and the cat pointed at it demandingly, repeating some command. Jill looked up at the girl's face, helpless, and was surprised to see the girl's face eager and plaintive rather than the demanding, threatening attitude of her brother. It's not like I have a choice, she thought. And not like she's the first girl this age I've eaten out, either, thought a quieter part of her brain. She lowered her muzzle and heard the girl make an excited sound. Jill blushed at the girl's eagerness. She focused on the sweet girlhood in front of her, letting it distract her from the more demanding hands on her ass, the rough laughter of the boy behind her. She lowered her muzzle and let her tongue slide inside the girl. The boy thrust inside her snatch brutally, and she had to resist the urge to cry out. Both of the girl's hands were on her head now. She had laid back along the log and was pushing Jill's face into her crotch desperately. Jill focused on pleasing her as the boy rutted. His cock pounded in and out of her rapidly, with no subtlety or self-restraint, his hips slapping against her firm ass. Jill clenched her eyes tightly, suckling on the sweet snatch at her lips, her tongue thrusting slower than the boy and her flat teeth brushing over the girl's tiny clit, making her squeal. Jill's hands twitched reflexively, straining against the palm rope. There were things her fingers longed to do to the girl. She pushed her tongue deeper, curling it when she pulled it out. She thought of her 'lesbian' phase during her first two years in college. Of the fling she'd had with the junior high girl she'd tutored. The girl tasted the same and it brought so many memories back. Exciting, shame-filled memories she liked to keep buried. She fucked the little girl hard with her tongue, matching the pace of the boy that filled her cunny with his young cock. The girl squealed then, fingers tightening in her hair. Jill's expertise had worked quickly and her hips started to thump against the log as she thrust up into Jill's face, cumming hard and wet. Jill heard the boy snarl with jealousy, felt his pace increase and his claws dig into her ass as he gripped her tighter. Part of her felt like crying, but she kept a tight rein on it, focusing on the girl instead, on the girlcum that sprayed over her tongue as she kept driving it into the tiny snatch. She buried herself in the girl's crotch as she bucked and only distantly heard the snarled roar of the boy, felt the heat of his seed filling her insides. It felt hot, primal, inside her, surprisingly different from the other times she'd done this. The girl heard his roar and matched it, her snarl more feminine and accompanied by a little squeal as she came on Jill's tongue again. Jill let her ride it as long as she liked, bringing her to a third and fourth orgasm as she felt the boy go limp inside her and finally pull out. Wanting to make him jealous, she plunged her tongue in hard, pushing her nose against the girl's clit and forcing her to yet another climax while the boy could only watch. The girl arched off the log, whole body shuddering as her muscles clenched violently around Jill's tongue. When she came down, she pushed Jill's face away and laid there on the log, her little body shaking as she struggled to catch her breath. The boy walked over to stand over the two of them, glowering. He put his foot on Jill's side and pushed. She yelped as she rolled off the log and toward the fire. The brother and sister started arguing immediately, although the girl was a little slow to respond, the tone in her voice was dreamy and slow: the sound of a girl sated was recognizable despite the language barrier. Jill grinned privately. The male gestured violently with his spear and a look of fear came over the girl's face. She said something, timid at first, and when he snarled in response, she sat up and started snarling back. Jill scooted back slowly as they argued about whatever it was. Killing her, eating her, maybe. Boys were always so quick to discard their mates once they'd shot their wad. And girls were the opposite, she thought, wondering if the sister was arguing for keeping her around. Hard to blame her--good tongue was hard to come by. She should know. She felt the fire at her back. Her butt was at the very edge of the pit and the fire was fiercely hot on her back. But still she leaned back further, her wrists straining. Minor burns were easy to treat and not likely to get infected. She had to burn the cord off without actually burning herself severely. It was a dangerous means of escape--a second degree burn was as good as a death sentence in a place like this. Suddenly, the smilodons stopped arguing. At first she thought her ploy had been discovered, but no, their ears were up, alert, and their eyes scanned the tree line suspiciously. She heard it then, too. A rustling. Something--someone--in the trees. Professor Wytham burst out of the brush then, arms raised to make himself look larger, and he was already pretty large. He let out a roar designed to intimidate the cubs, the most impressive roar she'd ever heard from a kangaroo. . .not that that was saying much. The two cubs picked up their spears and snarled in response. The male stepped in front of his sister and roared right back. He was half the size of Professor Wytham, but his roar was far more impressive. The professor shrugged. "Suit yourself." He lifted a handgun and shot a single bullet into the air. Jill cringed at the sound. Her ears rang. The smilodons didn't like the sound any more than she did, and in a second they had disappeared into the brush. Professor Wytham rushed over. "Jill, are you alright?" "Bruised, thirsty, and immodest, but I'm alive." He holstered the gun and pulled out a knife, making short work of her crude bindings. "Modesty's useless in biology, my dear. I've seen everything in the world naked!" He laughed and helped her up, turning his back politely to let her refasten her khakis. "Come on. I've shelter on the other side of the island. I saw smoke while I was scouting and hoped to find you or Melanie or Jack. Stumbled onto primitive savages of a mythical species instead. Ha!" "Melanie's dead," she said somberly as she followed him through the jungle. Watching her hooves as she followed Professor Wytham through some godforsaken jungle carried a comforting sense of familiarity, even if she happened to be half naked this time. "Ah, more's the pity," he said. "I will mourn her when we have time. But for now, Jill. . .do you know where we are?" "Some radiation-bombarded atoll near the equator?" "Only half right! Jill! We've gone back through time! I awoke when it was still night. I checked the stars and there's no mistaking the shift. I think when the bombs were going off they somehow. . ." He rambled on, the way he always did in the jungle. It was his way of making the journey shorter, she knew from experience. He could always find a topic to get excited about, to ramble on about endless. Jane looked over her shoulder. The girl was there. A hundred yards back, her patterned fur offering excellent camouflage, but her face was easily--deliberately--visible. Jill stared. The girl smiled. Jill felt herself smiling back, found herself recalling the taste on her tongue. Then the girl was gone again, fur meshing seamlessly with the surrounding foliage. "Jill, are you paying attention?" "Yes, sir," she said automatically, turning back to her professor. "Prehistory. Rift in space-time. Let's go."