From: mbertrand@upei.ca (Michael John Bertrand)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.erotica
Subject: Atolls, Part 1
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Date: 9 Nov 1994 20:10:41 -0500
Organization: University of Prince Edward Island, CANADA
Lines: 375
Message-ID: <39rruh$p21@amhux3.amherst.edu>
NNTP-Posting-Host: amhux3.amherst.edu
Keywords: mm furry sf
X-Moderator-Review: 4: much schlock material, but reasonable sex scenes

Archive-name: atolls.1

     Cryss sighed and climbed down from the tree.
There was no sign of Atoll's Sentinel, and he could
finally get some sleep.
     As he shimmied down the trunk of the ancient oak,
his head swam with memories of the day.  First there
had been the rude awakening in the early morning as one
of Atoll's warbeasts attacked them in their sleep.
This one had been worse than usual.  Its mouth had been
a twisted mass of multilayered fangs, its face was an
eyeless earless sphere of grey flesh, and the rest of
the body looked like it had been assembled from
discarded parts of a thousand failed sculptures.
     Proscutt must have really been hitting the
absinthe that day, thought Cryss sadly, not that he
knows what Atoll feeds him any more.  For that matter,
he doesn't know what's night and what's day any more.
Cryss remembered when Proscutt had been the Elder
Glade's brightest young druid, able to create
creature-forms of stunning beauty and innovative
design, which the Elders then projected themselves into
to try them out (one of the perks of being an Elder).
     Cryss could remember one particular form he had
gotten to try (a rare treat for a young Wanderer), a
graceful creature with eight slender but supple legs
and a long proboscis, that could wend its way through
the branches of trees like it was swimming in a sea of
green.  Memories like that made seeing the
monstrosities Atoll called his "beauties" even worse,
horrifying forms inhabited by the broken and bleeding
minds of Atoll's torture subjects, minds so filled with
pain and fear that all they could do was lash out in
mindless anger.
     Cryss and Straven had fought this particular beast
for almost the entire morning, Cryss with his mindblade
and his songs, Straven with his hooves and horn.  Then,
when the beast finally fell and the air rang with the
echoes of relief from the newly-freed (and
much-relieved) mind that had propelled it, they had
gotten almost no chance to rest at all before one of
the Citizen's Posses had caught up with them (probably
drawn by the Thundernote Cryss had been forced to sing)
and they had to flee for their lives through the dense
forest.  To make them even more tense, Straven had
spotted a Sentinel hovering around and had been forced
to suddenly throw Cryss from his back to stop him from
singing the Song of the Fox he'd been singing.  The
stately old Unicorn had apologized to Cryss over and
over for pitching him forward so suddenly that he had
tumbled head-over-tails into the underbrush, receiving
a nasty bruise on his head and a sprained wrist in the
bargain.  Cryss had assured Straven over and over that
he understood completely and wasn't angry at all.
Still, every time the Unicorn saw Cryss wince when he
pushed a branch aside or rub his head where the bruise
lay like a hard nut under his skin, the guilt overcame
him and he apologized all over again.  Cryss was
touched by the moving display of concern from the
usually businesslike and crusty Unicorn, but was
beginning to worry that he'd never hear the end of it.
     Then, to cap off an already unpleasant day, they
had met up with Mennios the Woodling, who in between
sessions of furiously grooming his long brown fur had
reminded them that Sa, their mutual good friend and a
Wolven Priestess, was just about due for her litter.
This meant that they had to somehow cover the distance
between the section of Springfloor Woods they were
travelling in and the Temple of Brren before the
following evening.
     This had started a heated discussion between
Cryss, who thought they should continue travelling
until Last Light, and Straven who had finally convinced
him that after all they had been through that to travel
another quarter-league would kill them.  They had both
been ill-tempered with fatigue and a lot of things had
been said, with Cryss hotly accusing Straven of being
callous and cold for possibly abandoning Sa when they
had promised they would be there at the birth, and
Straven icily replying that it must be nice to be a
young Wanderer and not have to deal with such petty
concerns as the limits the Goddess placed on her
children, like needing to eat and sleep.
     Just before now, Cryss had sullenly agreed to
stop, but insisted on climbing this oak tree and
checking for the Sentinel, despite Straven's protests
that he would be risking further injury to his wrist,
not to mention dropping forty feet to the forest floor
when he collapsed from exhaustion.  As he reached the
bottom of the trunk and dropped lithely to the thick
moss below, Cryss decided that it was time to clear the
air and make amends.
     He looked around the camp.  Their small fire was
still glowing and putting out its steady stream of
greenish musky smoke.  Cryss wrinkled his nose in
disgust.  The ubiquitous moss of Springfloor made an
excellent fuel, burning long and casting a great deal
of heat.  But it really did smell like the armpit of a
swamp-rat with the flu when it did so.  Their meagre
belongings were still there, Cryss's backpack, quiver,
and leather armour tossed to the ground wherever, and
Straven's sidebags, armour, and anklets stacked in a
neat pile by the fire.  Cryss went over to where he had
drawn up their circle of Wards (to Straven's
painstaking instructions) and examined them carefully.
They were still undisturbed, so the area of protection
they provided (roughly the surrounding half-acre) was
still intact.  But Straven was nowhere to be seen.
     Cryss puzzled as he crouched down next to the
runes, then remembered that just before he had headed
up the tree Straven had muttered something about
beginning to smell as bad as the fire and had headed
off into the woods.  In the heat of the moment, Cryss
hadn't paid much attention.  But now he cocked an ear
and sure enough, he could hear a faint splashing coming
from a nearby stream.  He pushed into the woods and
followed the noise.
     He only had to travel a short distance before the
growth thinned out and he came to the stream.  He
paused at the edge of the trees to watch Straven bathe.
As always, he was transfixed by the sight of the
exquisite interplay between Straven's well-toned
muscles as he dipped his head into the water of the
stream, then tossed his head back, sending a cascade of
water over his back.  He then shook and shifted his
legs, distributing the water everywhere, and dipped his
head down to do it all again.  Cryss felt a lump
forming his throat and his knees begin to get weak as
he watched the water pour over each perfect curve and
make it shine in the twilight, the Unicorn's
ivory-coloured skin rippling with each movement.
Suddenly Cryss felt the need to patch things up with
Straven a lot more acutely.  His head swam as he
stepped out of the woods into the stream.
     As Cryss splashed up the stream, Straven froze and
icily grated, "Hello -- monkey."  Cryss winced at this
and stopped moving as well.  "Monkey" was what Straven
had called him when they had first met.  It was a term
of contempt the other forest creatures used in
reference to Humans.  Straven hadn't called him that in
the years since they had met and travelled together,
during which time they had grown very close, so Cryss
knew that Straven was extremely upset.
     Cryss cast a silent prayer for wisdom and tact to
the goddess, and said, gently, "Hello, Teacher!"  This
was what Straven had insisted he be called when he had
agreed to take Cryss on as a student in Classical
Magick.  Cryss had grudgingly agreed, although he had
deliberately called Straven by his first name every
once in a while over the years to test the waters, and
as they grew closer and closer Straven corrected him
less and less frequently, and had almost stopped by
now.  Cryss figured that he had better put his best
foot forward anyway.
     It didn't work.  Straven still stood stock still,
refusing to even look at Cryss.  That's okay, thought
Cryss despite the knot of tension that had formed in
his stomach, I know how to handle this.  "I trust you
didn't find any trace of Atoll.  No Sentinels, no
warbeasts, no Pebble Monsters?" said Straven, his voice
frosty with sarcasm.
     Cryss's face flushed hot with embarrassment and
humiliation.  Many years ago, when his Wanderer
abilities were just starting to emerge, he had
breathlessly told Straven about this barren world he
was visiting in his dreams, a grey craggy landscape of
soft stone where huge insects roamed.  Cryss had burned
with excitement when Straven had told him that this
corresponded to no dimension or world he had ever heard
of, and had become convinced that he had done what
every Wanderer hopes to do in his lifetime: find a
totally new world to explore.  This made it all the
more galling when they later discovered that he hadn't
even been leaving his bed: his sleeping mind had been
roaming over the gravel of the road near the clearing
where they lived and the huge insects had been dust
mites.
     "No Teacher, none of those.  No hazards to
report," said Cryss innocently.  For as he said this,
he was edging closer to Straven, with the intuitive
stealth that distinguished Wanderers.
     Straven grunted in acknowledgement, then began
washing again with a deliberateness that spoke volumes.
Cryss crept closer, but knew that he needed to distract
him further if he was to evade notice and do what he
intended to do.
     "Teacher?  I want to apologize for my rude
behaviour earlier.  I was tired and shaky after today's
ordeal, but that's no excuse for being unreasonable.
You were perfectly right -- if we had journeyed till
Last Light it would almost have killed us," said Cryss,
now just a few feet away.
     "Mmm-hmmm," grunted Straven, his ears flickering
suspiciously but his head still turned away, refusing
to look at Cryss.  Good, thought Cryss.  Just a little
longer...
     "I am very sorry I showed you such disrespect, and
hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive my
silliness and rudeness --" and now he reached out and
started rubbing Straven right at the base of his horn,
"-- please?"
     Cryss almost giggled with delight as he felt the
Unicorn's tension melt under his fingers.  He stepped
closer and began massaging Straven's neck, gently
squeezing and stroking the taut muscles and ruffling
the thick hair.
     "Well..." began Straven in an unsuccessful attempt
at a stern tone.  He trailed off into a contented
whinny.  "Mmmmmmhhhh..."
     Cryss smiled and stifled another giggle.  So far,
so good.  He luxuriated over Straven's neck for a while
then moved down to his shoulders, leaning forward to do
so and "accidentally" rubbing his crotch against
Straven's side.  He started nibbling Straven's neck
gently and nuzzling his head.
     Straven leaned back against him, his warm body
pressed against Cryss's.  Cryss slid his hands up
Straven's legs (causing his muscles to quiver
delightfully) and pressed his body close.  He leaned
forward and kissed Straven, his tongue rubbing across
Straven's thick lips as he caressed Straven's ears with
cupped palms.
     Straven gave another small whinny as he felt
Cryss's caresses, and all semblance of resistance
crumbled like a brick wall deprived of its bottom
layer.  He opened his teeth and gently probed Cryss's
mouth with his tongue, and massaged Cryss's lips with
his own.
     Cryss kissed back, stroking Straven's head with
both hands.  He broke the kiss long enough to cast off
his leather jerkin and pants, leaving himself naked and
shivering in the stream.  He remedied this quickly by
kissing Straven again and pressing his body up against
Straven's, his hard cock rubbing Straven's hot chest,
still wet from his bathing.
     Straven leaned forward slightly, kissing back
fiercely, then broke the kiss and began snuffling down
Cryss's chest.  This time Cryss did giggle as the
Unicorn's hairy muzzle brushed down his chest and
snorted little gusts of air onto him.  The muzzle
reached his crotch, and Straven sniffed its musky odour
deeply before taking Cryss's cock and balls into his
mouth.
     Cryss almost swooned as the vast mouth engulfed
his genitals, and began slowly and gently sucking and
chewing them over.  He moaned and leaned forward,
resting his head against Straven's neck and stroking
his flowing grey mane.
     Straven gently worked over Cryss's privates, then
released them and stretched his neck out between
Cryss's legs, thrusting them apart.  He then turned his
muzzle upward and extended his tongue, causing Cryss to
come even closer to swooning as he was impaled anally
on a hot wet tongue.  Straven then began to gently buck
his head, causing the tongue to slide in and out in a
vertical tongue-fucking.
     Cryss began gasping, "Ah... ah... ah... ah..." as
the wet slab of tongue churned his insides and made his
anus feel like a violin string.  His cock was slapping
Straven's face with each buck, and he began stroking it
furiously.
     His breath grew more and more ragged as the tongue
continued its heavenly assault.  Suddenly, he gasped
like he'd been struck a fatal blow, and shot a wad of
come all over Straven's neck and mane.  Straven began
bucking in short tosses of the head, causing his tongue
to hump in short deep strokes.  Each snap of the head
brought another blast of semen out of Cryss's cock,
until Cryss slid off Straven's face and landed
unsteadily on his feet, his eyes glazed over.
     Straven quickly laid his head against Cryss's
chest to hold him up, and ran his tongue across the
roof of his mouth, savouring Cryss's flavour.  He
waited patiently, licking the semen off his mane where
he could reach it, until he felt some strength come
back into Cryss's body, and then said, "I think my tail
needs some work, Student..."
     "Hmmm?" Cryss breathed, his eyes far away.  Then
he started and said, "Oh!  Oh yes, right away,
Teacher!"  with a mock bow, and scurried around to the
Unicorn's hindquarters.
     In accordance with long-standing tradition, he
started by pretending to look for tangles in Straven's
tail, while he let his fingers brush Straven's puckered
anus.  He then dropped all pretence and began
vigorously licking it and rubbing the Unicorn's broad
flanks with unabashed enthusiasm.
     Straven nickered joyously and moved his hind legs
apart.  This opened up his anus further, and Cryss
wasted no time in leaning forward and burying his face
up the quivering hole, probing deeper and deeper until
half of his head was writhing around in there.  It was
Straven's turn to moan and grunt, as Cryss power-rimmed
him and rubbed down his flanks.  Cryss's hands reached
down and began rubbing Straven's huge balls as he
licked every inch of the Unicorns ass and breathed in
his powerful odour.  He began rhythmically pushing
forward, each time penetrating a little deeper up
Straven's ass and making him grunt in pleasure.
     Cryss pulled his face out for a breath of air, and
heard the rhythmic slapping of Straven's gargantuan
cock slapping against his belly.  "Aha!" said Cryss.
"I think I hear the sound of no hands clapping!"
Straven looked back with an equine grin and waggled his
rear, causing the cock to whip downward then *THWACK*
against his belly.
     Cryss planted his tongue in Straven's hole one
last time, then let it slip out as he dragged his
tongue down from the asshole to Straven's balls,
causing him to give little gasps and murmurs of
pleasure and making his legs tremble.  Cryss then took
as much of the immense ballsac into his mouth as he
could and began sucking it like a baby with a bottle.
At the same time, he reached forward and began jacking
Straven's cock with both hands.
     Straven moaned and twitched his legs as the warmth
poured over him.  Cryss smiled and began lick the
enormous equine penis up and down, all the while still
jacking it with all his strength.  He ignored the pangs
of his sprained wrist as he lowered his mouth onto
Straven's cockhead, sucking on it like a straw, still
jacking away.  He followed his hands with his mouth,
making his mouth and throat take in more and more, till
he was swallowing almost half of it with each stroke.
     Straven was making little "erms" and "uuhs" and
sweating like an iceblock in June.  Suddenly he began
to whicker and whinny, and stomp the ground with his
forehooves.  Cryss braced himself just in time as
Straven's cock blasted his guts full of Unicorn seed.
He swallowed it all down, and stroked Straven's cock to
empty it.  He then slowly spit the huge tool out,
careful not to hurt himself by relaxing his throat too
early.  He stood up and walked around to Straven's
front, and threw his arms around Straven's neck,
nibbing on his ear.
     "So?" he whispered into Straven's ear.
     "Mmm...?" panted Straven.  "So... what...?"
     "So..." said Cryss sweetly, nibbling Straven's
neck and rubbing his back.  "Am I forgiven, Teacher,
for my impiety?"
     Straven sighed at Cryss's caresses.  "Well, I
guess so.  Just don't let it happen again!"
     Cryss smiles and ran a tongue down Straven's
spine.  "Of course.  I would just *hate* to be punished
like this again..."
     Straven tensed for a second, but relaxed under
Cryss's expert love.  "You know, Cryss, whenever I get
too angry at your, all I have to do is remember this
and I calm down a bit."
     Cryss looked up from his ministrations in sudden
alarm.  He moved around in front of Straven and looked
him straight in the eye.  "You do know that I love you,
right?  That I do this because I love you and not just
to manipulate you?"  His panic was evident.
     Straven chuckled kindly and leaned over to nuzzle
Cryss's neck.  "Of course, my sweet lover.  What I am
saying is I have to remind myself some times how good
you are for me.  You keep me from just becoming a rigid
shell with no soul inside.  You keep my life
interesting!"
     Cryss looked at Straven, misty-eyed.  "And you
keep me from running off half-cocked all the time.  You
keep me alive!"
     He hugged Straven tightly, and just held him, as
the sun set in the west.  Eventually, when the light
was almost gone, they headed back to the camp, Cryss's
Wanderer second sight leading them unerringly back to
the camp.  And there they sat together, and talked,
till eventually they fell asleep, Cryss's head resting
on Straven's flank.

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