"It’s strong, all right" he said. His voice was so mild compared to that look, and the huge yawn that followed didn’t fit, either. "That hand of yours. It isn’t called ‘driving seed’ for nothing, stud. But no, my brothers and I, we didn’t wait for that. From the moment we were opened, we linked until we were stoned on SkhtuS and too sore to show black. But I guess even then–" he rolled his head back but reached out a hand and took my wrist. "Even then I started to think there was something, well, different about me. My brothers wanted to peg ass every bit as much as I did, but after we turned, oh, say eleven, they talked more and more about wlkwim. Of course we watched our folks fucking. A million times. Our oldest sisters got married, and for a year or two their husbands lived with us. More fucking. My word. You could hardly open your eyes without seeing at least one wlkwy with a guy up to the nuts in her." He chucked. "Real sex-pots. That was the first time me and my brothers saw two wlkon fuck the same wkwy. If one of our brothers-in-law slotted a wife, the other one was always right there. Big, black, and ready. Our folks never did anything like that."

"How did your sisters take to it?"

"Oh, they loved it. Seemed to, anyway. Well, they were real happy with their men generally, if you know what I mean. Really seemed to get into it. So much purring around that place you couldn’t hear yourself think. I suppose more often than not, our moms and dads fucked at the same time. You know how it is, one would start and if the other dad was around he’d slot the other mom. It was sweet. Staid, though, compared to the little orgy that was stirred up every time Todd or Grant screwed one of their wives.

"When we were very young, of course, fucking was just something mommies and daddies did. Same thing our dads linking. After we were opened, for a while we were so busy humping one another to exhaustion"–another chuckle–"for a while I doubt we even noticed what the grownups were doing. But the time came when we started to think, well, that what our daddies and our brothers-in-law did with their black was real interesting.

"My brothers, judging from their talk, they were busy wondering what pussy felt like. Wondering if your nuts snapped any different when your black was hiding in a slot instead of pegging under a tail. Oh, yeah, stud–put your ears back up! We used words like that. Except–I wasn’t all that interested. I was too shy to even say what I was thinking about. Stuff like, well–me, I was wondering what it felt like, for a wlkwy–I mean, what it felt like to have a man between her thighs like that, and a cunt full of his black. It certainly looked like a treat for them. I can’t believe they’d act like that just to be polite." He paused, thinking about something I guessed. "And I had a sort of a crush on one of my brothers-in-law. I even wished our dads would link to us."

"Wha–??"

"Yeah, pretty gross, isn’t it?"

I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic.

"But it’s the truth. Men. Real men–big, strong men who knew a thing or two about what to do with a tail-hole. I mean really do with it. I already was pretty keen on making and being made with my brothers, like any open boy I suppose, but there was always this–hankering to feel a real man driving my seed. Instead of those kits–so eager to snap their nuts you’d have thought their lives depended on it.

"Yeah. Well, but it’s the truth. And–" He paused. "OK, well, I actually linked to one of my uncles. A few times. Uncle Henry. Man, did I love it. Hey, Perry, don’t start in on me. I know, that’s gross, too. But look: in my green eyes–"

I have to admit I was feeling a little nauseous. This big, strong guy with a scar across his face talking about having "green eyes", and linking with his own uncle, wasn’t settling my stomach any. We were lying on our backs, our heads close together. They way wlkos do when they’re talking. I turned my head and craned back. I could see his shoulder and his chest and his profile. And his neck.

"I thought of him as so handsome", Lop continued, talking to the sky, "but I’m thinking it wasn’t his looks so much as he was this terrific he-male. Well, it was beautiful, from start to finish. I was so thrilled. I never knew a fuck could even last that long. Well, that’s what I mean about knowing how to do it. So far as I know, Jess and Carl were like me. I mean, they loved being made as much as they loved driving seed. Loved every minute of it. Couldn’t wait to do it again. Relished the beauty of a buttful of black and the bliss of a buttful of SkhtuS. Craved it. I wasn’t kidding about being sore. Sore hole, sore drill. But–us kits, like I say, we thought woody black was just something you used to get SkhtuS to snap out of your nuts. A beautiful feeling, whether you were giving it or getting it. I admit I don’t know exactly what I thought I was getting into. With Uncle Henry, I mean. But I learned one thing: I was right about there being more to linking than snapping a wad of SkhtuS up a butt.

"Whoa! Man! By the time Uncle Henry was finished with me, my own SkhtuS was all over my face and neck. Ever get that stuff in your eyes, stud? Well, don’t. I swear, my tail-hole tingled for a day. I had this terrific feeling of bliss. For hours, I mean. It wasn’t just that the fuck lasted for ever, just about." [I wished he wouldn’t use that word! Ugh!] "Henry, he wasn’t in any hurry. That tells you something, doesn’t it? It would have been such a scandal, if anyone found out, but even so, all through the fucking I could tell he was hoarding his khtu; and after he snapped, he just lay there. Kept us linked. Left it in me. Well, not ‘left it’–he was pulling. I don’t doubt that my asshole was skinning back his sheath. I wasn’t anywhere near full-grown and that black of his made a big impression on my guts, I can tell you. Soaking in his own SkhtuS. A first for me. It felt wonderful. Well, being fucked by two brothers at a go–" that word again! "–was almost as much of a thrill as being fucked by a real man. But my uncle’s drill found places inside my belly I didn’t even know were there."

"Uh, Lop", I said, quietly, after reassuring myself that the kits were sound asleep. I didn’t know where to begin. "The way I was brought up, that wasn’t done. What you, um, did with your uncle. I’ve never heard of such a thing. It–it wasn’t–isn’t–even thinkable."

"Oh, don’t worry, stud. I was brought up the same way." He shifted his head and looked at me the way I’d been looking at him, off and on. He reached up in a languid way and threaded his fingers in my mane. I wasn’t so queasy that I couldn’t notice that there was something beautiful about the way the muscles in his arm and shoulder moved. That arm with its black marks. "It was vile. It was unspeakable. It was disgusting, what we were doing. It was also the most beautiful thing I’d ever felt in my life. By far."

"But–" I was hardly able to believe–"this was your uncle–? Your moms’s brother?" (In Wlko there are half a dozen words that mean more or less "uncle" depending on whether it’s your co-moms’ or your co-dads’ family, whether you’re a boy or a girl, whether it’s by marriage or by birth. Lop said shlhkSmisk, which means his mothers’ brothers. For a male wlko to have sexual relations with a shlhkSmisk was, well, not just inconceivable. It was totally inconceivable. As bad as fucking his own mothers. Worse, maybe. It made my hair stand on end just to hear him say the words.)

"Yeah. If they’d found us, like I say, I can’t even think about what would have happened." He yawned again.

Well, there was one thing that would have been worse. Far worse.

"You ever, um, drive his seed?"

Lop was awake all at once. He jerked around so he was on his elbows, looking at me in open astonishment. "Of course not!" he hissed. He seemed surprised and angry. "Get fucked by a boy?" (That word again. I nervously checked to see if the kits were still asleep.) His features softened strangely and turned into something like a little smirk. "Naw. Henry, he’d never let a boy fuck him. Probably not even at a wlkatar Besides, I couldn’t have if I’d wanted to. My nuts always snapped out the biggest blurt of SkhtuS you ever saw while his black was still working my ass. Every time. In fact he did it on purpose. The first couple of times I was too excited to remember my own name. But later–I could tell–him and his nuts were waiting for my custard–"

" ‘Every time’? Lop! How often did your uncle fuck you?"

(I couldn’t believe my own ears. Now he had me talking like a pervert!)

"Oh, well, just about every time we got together. Once we started. Maybe a dozen, all told. Not counting one particular wlkatar. That was a kick. Getting Henry’s big ol’ black up my tail, same as always, great fuck, with one big, fat difference: my brothers were right there, up to their dripping nut-bags in one or another cunt, fucking away, hand-over-fist. Close enough I could touch them, probably. But they were so thrilled by their first go at new gash that they didn’t even notice whose peg was driving the warm kvass right out of their dear bro’s prick. What a kick that was. All I know it it was the best fuck I’d ever had."

I pondered this news for a bit. Lop was a pervert, all right. A genuine pervert. Depraved. Twisted. Sick. I guess I could see myself getting a crush on a wlko. I could even see getting a sort of crush on an uncle. One or another of my relatives was very special to me. But actually taking an uncle’s black–or, well, let me turn it around. I had any number of nephews. They were dear little things. Cute, too. Some–take Mickey and Tim–were very cute. And of course there was no shortage of handsome boys and young men among my nephews. But if I even had the idea that one of them was trying to seduce me, I swear I’d sooner mash my balls on a rock than actually link to him.

"Lop–this Uncle Henry–? He wasn’t, maybe, green-eyed too?"

"I’ve wondered." He responded without hesitation. Off-handedly, even. He looked so cool. You’d never guess from his face what he was talking about. "I’ve wondered. But who knows? Well, he did call what we were doing ‘fucking’. I remember thinking it was weird when he talked like that. But exciting. It was the only time I’d ever heard anyone talk that way."

"Did he say stuff to you like, ‘don’t tell anyone’?"

Lop yawned again, and lay down on his back like before, but with his hands behind his head. "He didn’t have to. I knew we were doing something terrible. Wonderful, too. But you know something–you rutting bandul, you–the feel of your nuts snapping SkhtuS into my gut is even better than that. I teased you about it–you wanted me to, I could tell–but that first fuck–? That was just about the most wonderful–well, it was outstanding, let me put it that way. And the bliss? I thought I was going to die. Just pass out and never wake up."

I shuddered. I couldn’t help myself. "But you know something else, stud? It keeps getting better", he added, talking through another yawn. "You’re something wicked."

The next morning, I was awakened by a wonderful feeling. When I was together enough to realize it was the feeling of Lop’s tongue on my balls, I grabbed his mane and mumbled, "Where are the kits?"

He raised his head from my groin to answer. "By your left shoulder."

I looked up and over. They were right there, all right. Cuddling. Wide awake. And watching Lop intently. Watching him act like a woman. They looked at me when I raised my head. Their heads turned like the were wired together.

I felt the rasp of his tongue on my nut-bag.

He had no shame! But–neither did I. Not if the whiff of hkshihh was mine. No, not mine. Yes, it w–no–it was both of us. It was a mingled scent I’d become used to soon enough. But it was still a confusing novelty. The feeling of his tongue between my thighs was so beautiful, but when I felt him take my balls in his mouth and squeeze, my eyes closed. I arched my back and shivered and moaned.

And just like that, I forgot all about the kits. It was so wonderfully, wonderfully beautiful.

Next thing I knew he was lying on my chest, mumbling endearments, like "Mmmm, eggs for breakfast" and "Fuck me, eel me" into my ear.

I’d get used to it. Soon enough. But for now, it made my hair stand up to hear him talk like that. Not to mention that the kits were right there.

"Lop", I said, almost shaking with excitement. He was licking my neck. "I’m the one who needs–uh, attention. What if I go cold."

He pulled his head back in surprise.

"Aw, no. No way! Not so soon–are you sick?"

"Yes, so soon. No, I’m not sick. We get maybe three days–"

"Really?"

"Really. What’s the deal with you rupellids?"

There was something nice about just lying there with Lop on top of me, talking. At least I didn’t have to fret about doing something gross in front of the kits as long as he was where he was, apart from the fact that he shouldn’t be doing any such thing with a strange guy in the first place.

He was looking at me closely, like he was trying to figure out if I was pulling his leg.

"Five days, seven maybe. No such thing as going cold by accident. Hunh! They say–" He was pausing between every few words to lick my cheeks and neck–"they say rupellid wlkon–are born with–with an itch in their–their ass. Or maybe it just–makes it–makes everything–you do–makes it better." He stopped licking and looked into my eyes. Funny look. His scar– "After we got married, my brothers liked a good link as a warmup for fucking." He mused. "Both of them, Jess and Carl, preferred me to be the one driving them. Before they fucked. Claimed the bliss made the fuck more beautiful. Claimed they could feel the SkhtuS welling out of their black the whole time, not just when their nuts snapped. My ass can tell you, they were no slouches, themselves. Maybe they knew I was different. Or maybe they never really thought of me as a brother. Anyway, they usually linked me together. I mean, one right after the other. Ever been fucked when you’re already in bliss? Apart from a wlkatar, I mean. It’s the greatest." He bent his head down to give my nipples a few swipes of his tongue. My mane bristled.

"Mmmmfffh. More eggs. Yummmm. But I must have linked Jess and Carl twice or three times for every time they linked each other. They would go on about how I really drive seed."

I could second that.

"Lop, I can scent your SkhtuS. You know what–"

I’d pulled up my legs and had wrapped my tail around one of his thighs. He didn’t say anything. There was a slow, lithe, and wonderfully strong movement; I could feel him prodding under my tail, and then, slowly, the big cat was pulling beauty, intense beauty into my whole body through my tail-hole. It was aching before he was home, and when he was deep enough for my hole to skin back his sheath, the pain in my gut was pretty sharp, but the main effect was more beauty than ever. Intense, crazy beauty. I was flying from the first sensation–well, it was still startling, I’d never had a wlko like him in me. My poor tail-hole ached, and there was this panicky feeling that I couldn’t take him, couldn’t take any more of him into me, it’d kill me or cripple me–but with every millimeter of his hard black, I was feeling more and more beautiful. His body was so hard, so muscular, and when started making fire, I thought I’d never felt anything so beautiful in my life, ache or no ache.

Then I came down with a crash.

"Cut that out", he growled, yanking my muzzle away from his cheek. He stopping his humping.

There were tears in my eyes. He’d hurt me. But also, I was frustrated.

"Lop", I whimpered, pulling his mane. "You got me so hot. I can’t just lie here."

He looked at me for a moment. He was moving again. He was making small movements down around his waist. Pulling black. I could feel him inside me. Incredibly, I could even feel my body starting to clasp his cock. Already! Not a steady grip, yet, but the sort of pulsing that came just before I’d really get a hand on him. He was looking at me, but he got a far-away look in his eyes. He was moving like he was in a cunt, not linking. Slow and deep. Squirming rather than pulling. Holding his pelvis hard between my thighs. It was beautiful, and I could really feel his cock swelling. Inside me! My entire belly was aching, now, but I was feeling to totally beautiful that I thought my whiskers would fall out.

"Bite me", he said.

"Bite you?"

That brought me down. All at once, the sore feeling in my gut changed, turned into something more monux than rupellid, and my thoughts were filled by the memory of that dreadful time when Drushka had to make me a man. After being impaled on a herd of monuxes and it didn’t work. I could hardly walk. It even hurt to cry. Linking was agony. Even worse than getting a meter of monux dick up your guts. Which is saying something. It was agony for my Drushka, too, I know. And not because his whole neck was a bloody mess. That was the least of it, I think. Drushka was such a dear. Strong and tender. Me, I’m mostly tender, I guess. Anyway, I couldn’t stand it. The pain. I was out of my mind. But when I saw what I’d done to my sweet brother–

"Yeah", said Lop. Blunt, as always. "Look, stud, it’s not like you’re trying to kill me, or anything. Just so I know you’re there. And so you have a good mouthful of me. Hey–what happened to your hand? You had a good grip on me just now–man, that’s strong–"

"I’m sorry", I said. Well, it was more like a whimper. "I’m sorry. I was–I just remembered something sort of upsetting. Just start, again. It’ll come back."

A stab of pain was the main result of Lop’s first pull up against his sheath, burying his black. He groaned with the effort, or something, which got me hot for some reason. I remember thinking it was just crazy, I’d just about slipped black a second or two before and now I could feel the beauty grow with every pull. It didn’t stop hurting, exactly–in fact, when my hand clamped down on his black, I’d swear it felt like his prick was going to disembowel me–but the beauty was overwhelming the pain. Blotting it out. Like the way sunrise puts out the stars.

I was cluching his mane but I wanted more than that. So, well, it was his idea–I bit him. It was pretty clumsy at first. I admit it. I really liked it once I got used to it. That first time it was more of a distraction than anything. Maybe because of the memories. But when he snapped his nuts–after a thorough interior scrubbing, too–I was only a few pelvic pulls from juicing, myself. And that’s just what I did. He stopped pulling after he snapped, but for a few moments he was still moving his pelvis, moving like he was eeling a female. It happened so fast. Suddenly there was this ocean of my khtu between our bellies. I really did think my whiskers had come loose, with that. It was bewilderingly beautiful. I was jerking and thrashing around, and he just about dislocated my shoulders, he was holding me so tight. I sure wasn’t going anywhere, not with those arms around my shoulders and that peg in my butt–pulled tight up to the purse.

Once I settled down we lay like that for I don’t know how long. The bliss turned my bones to mush. I could feel the boys snuggling up to us, one on each side, holding on to my arms. I was too far gone in bliss to be horrified by the kits being right in the middle of this–this indecency between two men.

And–it felt so good, lying there under him. So good. So good. The bliss mingling with the ache under my tail. Finally, only when the bliss was fading a little, he raised his body off of me, with a sigh that somehow turned into a groan, and licked my face a couple of times.

"Hey, boys, let your daddy up", I heard him say to Tim and Mickey, "so he can clean me off."

The twins scuttled away a meter or two. I would have been a lot happier if they hadn’t been watching us at all. I rolled on to my side, and got on all fours. I felt shaky. Lop was lying on his back, thighs wide, a pose I’d see him in, at least once a day, for the next 80 years or so. His black had slipped, but there was SkhtuS all around the opening of his sheath; his belly fur was full of my SkhtuS as well. It looked like he’d been drilling the juice out of monux. And the skshihh–his balls were soaked with it, all the fur in his groin was gleaming with the stuff. He had it half-way down his thighs, if you can believe it. His belly smelled more like my hkshihh than his, but there was a lot of his juice in the fur there, too.