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The Seduction of Seleste

from the world of the mating season

Sweet Nectar

Chapter 22

When Keme awoke, he felt like his head was splitting in two. He felt the breeze caress his face, lift his mane, push his limp tail. The scent of the dusky orange moss was pungent on the air. Keme moaned and his head fell back. It took him a minute to realize he was swinging slowly in the wind. His arms were above his head, and his feet were dangling off the ground, and - oh god - pain throbbed in his anus as if it'd been stretched, pain throbbed on his thighs . . . as if they'd been bitten.

"Wakey, wakey, little Matwau," sang a mocking voice. A deep voice.

Still moaning, Keme felt the pain in his head throb harder. His face fell forward into his arm and his body swung again in the wind. His eyes snapped open when a big claw grabbed his cock. The nails pinched him as it squeezed.

Keme winced and stared around with blurry eyes. He was seeing two of everything, which made the number of bears surrounding him immeasurable. The bears were lounging about, smoking, rubbing their fat bellies. Beads and feathers were woven in their manes. Some carried daggers, others carried spears. All their dicks were hard and they watched Keme was unconcealed lust.

Keme's head pulsed with pain as he looked down at the bear squeezing his cock. It was the same white bear from before, the one with the red tattoos stained across his fur. He held the blowgun still, and his eyes were narrowed with something between hatred and hunger. Seeing that he had finally gotten Keme's attention, he shoved Keme's dick from his claw and Keme felt his body swing away. It finally hit him that he was hanging from one of the great red trees. His head rolled back unsteadily so he could look up: he was bound by the wrists, his leather shackles tied tight to a tree branch above.

"I think you gave him too much of the poison, brother," grunted one of the bears, a great brown one with dusky golden highlights running along the tip of his mane.

"Don't be stupid," snorted the white bear and his chest heaved. "If he can still breathe, it wasn't too much. Hey, hey!" He snapped and his long black claws clicked. "Look at me, wolfbeast!"

Feeling dazed, Keme rolled his head down at the white bear, as asked. The white bear waved a nail slowly back and forth, and Keme followed it in groggy confusion. He felt a line of drool stretch from his lip and wanted to die.

"See?" said the white bear, tossing his claws. He settled back in his chair - and odd sack of a chair that was shaped like a bag of potatoes. "The Matwau can see, he's fine. It's when he starts coughing up blood that we worry."

Keme blinked and looked around. He could hear children running, the sound of their laughter, mothers scolding in deep voices . . . Keme lifted his head. He was hanging from a tree in what appeared to be the center of a village. The domes of thatch huts crowded from every corner, and Keme swore they looked just like dark brown beehives. The door of each gigantic beehive was a round hole, and bears lumbered in and out of them, carrying baskets, carrying cubs, holding claws or smoking pipes. Draped in grass skirts, they all bore the same fat bellies, the same deep voices male or female alike. The males had the same flabby chests as the females, and Keme was starting to wonder how the bears told each other apart.

One fat bear with broad, muscular shoulders stomped to a halt beside the white one. He eyed Keme lazily and scratched himself through his grass skirt. Keme watched him curiously. This new bear was holding a long stick with a great feather tied to it. His fur was a very pale brown, his eyes were bright blue, and his long pale mane was pulled back in a single braid. His small, beady eyes continued to study Keme, and when their eyes met, he smiled with satisfaction.

Something in the bear's smile made Keme die a little inside. And he wasn't sure why.

"If I knew fucking a Matwau could be so delicious," said the pale bear, "I would have journeyed to the farthest reigns of the earth to find one such as this."

The white bear laughed heartily at this, scratching himself as he too eyed Keme.

Keme's heart stopped in his chest. They had fucked him? They had fucked him! The reason for the dull throbbing in his ass suddenly became clear. He clenched his ass cheeks tight just thinking about it, and the bears laughed.

Keme scowled. Little did they know that his head was clearing! Already, the world was coming sharply into focus.

The pale bear stepped closer. To Keme's dismay, he pulled his dick out and began fondling his fat little cock as his beady eyes drank in Keme's body. Keme wanted to ignore him, wanted to look anywhere else but at that pudgy cock as it oozed out pre-cum, but the bear then lifted the stick with the feather, and Keme gasped when the feather lightly stroked his cock. He twisted out of reach and the bears laughed.

The white bear shook his head. "No, Tipu, this is how ones does it." So saying, he lurched to his feet and stomped until he was standing behind Keme. Keme glowered as his hips were taken in the white bear's big claws. "I will hold him still," the white bear said. "He will not escape either of us!" And with a grunt, the white bear peeled Keme's ass cheeks apart with his thumbs. "This tender, delicious place . . ." he whispered behind Keme.

Keme's eyes widened and he bucked and kicked. The other bears sitting around laughed at him again.

"Look at his dick flapping!" boomed one lustily. "Makes me want to suck him again - or eat a banana."

The others laughed heartily. Keme felt his cheeks burning. And with his hips held fast by the white bear's long claws, he could not escape it when the pale bear began stroking him with the feather. Keme squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the light strokes that flicked, caressed, and taunted him into a hard-on. He tried to block it out, tried to think of anything else, but his hard-on came hot and strong. He dismally began to gasp and sigh as the feather continued to stroke him, grazing the tender nerves, urging his cock to throb and swell.

Opening his eyes, Keme saw that the pale bear was stroking his own cock as he watched Keme with hooded eyes. Licking his lips, he dragged the feather lightly over Keme's balls, then let it move back and forth between his legs, gently massaging. Keme watched the feather's progress with wide eyes as the pleasure washed over his trembling body. He tried to buck again, and to his horror, the white bear spread his ass cheeks wider and sank his tongue.

Keme had never had a tongue in his ass before. He hadn't anticipated that it could feel so good. And the bears . . . their tongues were huge and lapping and dripping with slobber. He could see their tongues now as they sat around his tree, hanging from their mouths, wagging as they touched themselves, watched Keme's dick, and panted. Keme closed his eyes. The white bear's tongue was no different. It lapped at him hotly, large and flat and rough and slathered in spit. He felt the tongue graze his ass cheeks, graze the tender flesh between his buttocks, and then it slid hot and intruding right into the tight opening of his anus.

His eyes wide, Keme cried out and twisted against his binds. The feather stroking him and that tongue caressing him . . . it was too much. He looked down at his cock and saw it twitching and heaving. He knew that any moment now and he was going to squirt all over the pale bear standing in front of him. But the pale bear seemed to want this. As if he, too, could take it no more, he tossed his feather aside, snatched Keme's hips, and devoured his cock in long, wet strokes. Trapped between the hot, lapping mouths, Keme was in ecstasy. He rocked weakly between them as he dangled from the tree, and as they pleasured him with their lips and tongues, their long claws did not hesitate to smooth along his muscular body, caressing and massaging.

Keme's head fell back as the pale bear's tongue twined skillfully around his shaft. His lashes fluttered and his chest heaved for breath. "Ah! Ah - ah . . .!"

"Come in my mouth, little Matwau," whispered the pale one between sucks, and as if to encourage Keme, he began fondling his balls.

Keme grimaced. He didn't want to. Oh, god, why? Why were they doing this to him?

"He's stubborn," said the white bear behind Keme. He stopped licking Keme and instead began to lovingly stroke his tail. "Very stubborn, Tipu. Do it."

The apparent Tipu pulled his lips from Keme's cock and murmured, "Yes, Matoskah . . ."

Keme's green eyes widened. Do what? He didn't have time to wonder. Tipu grabbed Keme firmly by the waist, and pulling his hips close, he sank his big bear fangs in the tender flesh of Keme's thigh. Keme didn't understand why, but this gave him such exquisite pleasure that his cock twitched and he came with a grimace all over his own belly: "Ahh--AHHH!"

To Keme's further bewilderment, the bears crowded round as if a honeycomb had just been pulled free laden with honey. They began to lick the cum from Keme's body in long, hard laps that did not serve to make staying soft very easy. To Keme's further shock and horror, little male cubs danced close and begged for a taste, but they were shooed away by their elders.

"But I wanna taste his special honey too!" one cub cried and stomped off with the others.

"He tastes so sweet," said Tipu, licking his lips. "I want to fuck him every hour until he explodes." So saying, he lovingly smoothed his paw over Keme's hard thigh.

Looking down at Tipu's hunger, Keme suddenly understood why his thighs were covered in searing bites. So they had been biting him like this as he was unconscious? And just to make him come?

As if he'd read Keme's mind, the white bear grinned nastily. "No, Matwau. You were awake when this happened before. Only you were so drugged you wouldn't remember. Ask your friend."

His friend? The white bear gestured. Keme looked where he had indicated and his heart skipped a painful beat: Honiahaka was tied over a barrel. The sun chief's tail was tied to his back, and his hard ass cheeks were red and sore, as if he'd been brutally spanked any number of times. Honiahaka's exposed anus was bright red and his own cum stained the barrel as it dripped down between his spread legs.

"He is lucky," said the white bear. "His loins do not carry such sweet nectar as yours." He smiled darkly and gave Keme's limp cock a long, hard stroke.

Keme glowered. Without warning, he swung his feet up toward the tree branch. The bears staggered back and watched in dismay as he wrapped his ankles around the branch and hung from the tree like a napping snake. Without hesitating, Keme began tearing at his restraints with his teeth.

"What are you doing, Matwau?" the white bear warned. "Come down from there! Don't make me drug you again!"

"Maybe you _should _drug him, Matos," said Tipu nervously.

Damn straight, you're scared, Keme thought darkly as he worked. As soon as I get free . . .

"Matoskah!" cried Tipu and backed away fearfully. "Drug him! Drug him now!"

The other bears chimed in, frightened of the consequences should super strong, super fast, drug free Keme leap down upon them.

The apparent Matoskah snapped something at the others in a strange, clicking tongue. Keme realized it was some sort of dialect of the bears. Matoskah lifted his blowgun and prepared to shoot it, but Keme had gnawed himself free at last. He leapt to the earth and crouched for a moment, his green eyes darting furiously from frightened face to frightened face. Matoskah scowled and took a deep breath, but Keme snatched the blowgun from his claw and snapped it. Matoskah gasped, glowered, and stumbled back as the broken pieces were tossed away. Keme was preparing to follow up by snapping the white bear's fat neck when a voice bellowed his name.

Keme froze. It was a deep voice. A voice he didn't recognize. One of the accented voices of the bears. His eyes went back to Honiahaka. To his surprise, the sun chief had been untied and was leaning unsteadily against the shoulder of a very short, very fat bear. The bear was a very dark brown, and like every bear in the village, he had flabby chest and a large protruding belly. But his shoulders and arms were fit and muscular, the mark of a warrior. Upon his head was a crown of red feathers and around his fat throat a necklace of what appeared to be bird bones. His long dark mane fell loose beyond his shoulders, and his eyes were bright amber and fierce as a hawk's. His face was etched with lines and his movements slow. He was an elder. When he looked at Keme, Keme got the unsettling feeling that he could see into his soul.

It took Keme a minute to realize that it was this new bear who had boomed his name. He stared at Keme with such a grim expression that he was very much reminded of Kel.

Upon seeing the old bear, the other bears took a knee and humbly bowed their heads - all of them, that is, except for Matoskah. The white bear folded his arms and regarded the old bear with something bordering hatred.

"Come," the old bear said, and without further ado, he turned from the gathering and helped Honiahaka limp away.

Keme watched the old bear's retreating back with narrowed eyes. As he was following, his livid eyes met with Matoskah's, a silent promise that they would be seeing each other again.