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Chapter 1.

His horn grew purple and his seed sacks swelled as the peered at me, and he smelled my pheromones. He decided to put seed in me, as if any Egroeg could do that without my desire!

"Whuzp?" he roared at me. He was very sure of himself.

"Nuttinmuch!" I responded. My heart beat fast, for he was very big.

Soon we danced around each other, he looking to tame me, I to boost my reputation as a warrior. We circled each other, looking for an opening. He pawed my tail, I fought. He pawed my mounds, I fought. He rubbed pouches with me, trying to distract me, and grabbed my mounds again. This was very distracting! My lower pouch opened of its own will, and began to make mating juice. I struggled, and fought him off again.

Then he began to lick my third ear. That made my feeding mounds hard, and it was very difficult to not allow exploratory dalliance. I made more mating juice, but I was determined not to suck his seed until I chose to do so. His talons were covered with carmine as my red fur slipped between them, and he began to force my head to his horn.

I would not be forced! I am a Silkeon, and we do not submit! I slipped from his grasp, and pushed him away, panting for breath.

I wailed "Nooooo noooo noooo!" a sound that scares most Egroegs, but not this massive male.

I had to use all my mighty muscles to prevent his paws from holding my pouch open for his horn. Finally I slashed his snout with my farouche claws, and he bellowed in pain, but he let go.

I could not tell if my pulse was fast from anger, fear, or lust, but it was fast, and I felt all those things. My mounds wanted to be bitten, my pouches wanted his seed, I feared he would rip me open with his abergine hardness, but I was a warrior, not a SkankHo.

I gasped for air, and roared, "Tak eme ho me!"

Later I learned that the ballads might ring false, for I learned that Qua terb a'ck's admirers had added a verse to his praises, cantillating of his conquest of a mighty Silkeon, and how she had begged for his seed, and he had poured it first into her upper pouch, and let it overflow onto her mounds; yet she had begged for more, and coaxed him into shooting into her lower pouch three times. Then he had finally succumbed to her piteous mewling and given her a full load in her excretion chute.

She was, they said, eager for seed from any Egroeg, but her pouches were so loose that many would find her boring.

This they said of ME!

Silkeons do not cry, we do not wail and throw rocks and tree limbs.... But I had to work hard to focus on those facts, for indeed I wanted to do those things. I flew to mallspace, and paced the caverns; it was no good, I could not focus.

Even mighty warriors need to know when a strategic retreat is needed. I went away for a while.... To have stayed would have resulted in a certain Egroeg's getting parts of his reproductive equipment cut off with a rusty razor, or perhaps accidently being burned up by lightening.

When I arrived on Planet Hollywood, I thought I would be able to re-focus, and again look for poon-tangi and Egroegs. Apparently Planet Hollywood is very different from the rest of the worlds. At first I roared happy sounds, for there were many paw covers in many mallspaces there. But I learned that I could not go to them.

Supposedly the Number Gods rule Planet Hollywood, and creatures pray to them every time one of the Suns rise.

They beseech piously, saying, "Letthe Five becl ear tod ay."

They cannot move from place to place without this.

The Great Search for snowballs, the main activity of my world, is ignored there. All the wild monsters there search for "gigs," though I never learned the manner or need for these. All the devils there watched the moons rise and set and counted every one of them; they feared the passing of any moon for they believed they aged faster than other life forms, and pondered age constantly.

Many of them carefully scraped tinder from tree bark into their breathing slits, and then talkedfastforalongtime.

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