I leave before my control breaks entirely. But I don't go far. I climb to where I can watch her cave, see her find the scented fabric. Watch her hold it to her face and breathe deep. Watch her body convulse with need from my scent alone.
She uses it. Holds the fabric while she writhes through waves that come faster now. My scent makes them worse but also gives them focus. Not just anonymous need but need for me specifically.
My hand goes to my primary cock without permission. The ridges are so swollen they hurt. One stroke and I could release, paint the tree with seed her body craves. But that would be waste. Defeat.
Instead I grip the base, force it back into its sheath. The pressure is agony, but controlled agony.
Three more days, Gorthak said. Maybe four.
I can't wait that long. My body won't allow it. Every breath brings her scent, her need. My cocks leak constantly now, preparation fluid running down my legs. My mind fills with images of claiming. Of pressing her down and filling that empty,spasming space. Of my knot swelling inside her, locking us while I pump her full of what she needs.
My tail thrashes, betraying my state. I have to climb down, pace my territory to burn off the edge. But everywhere I go, her scent follows. She's marked my land with her arousal, claimed space with her need.
A crack of branch signals another presence. Not Gorthak. Someone new.
Three males emerge from shadows. Not juveniles. Full adults with scarred scales and emerged secondary arms. They don't enter my territory but stand at the border. Watching. Waiting.
One calls out in the formal patterns that mean the female will be claimed.
I respond with sounds that mean by me alone.
Another speaks of brothers who are not brothers, of whoever proves strongest.
Challenge. Not formal yet, but the beginning. They're gathering. Coordinating. Soon someone will invoke the right to fight for her.
I bare my teeth, let them see the size of my fangs. Let them understand what challenging me means. They don't retreat but don't advance either. Just melt back into jungle. But they'll return. With others.
I go back to watching her. She's trying to sleep but can't. Every few minutes her body convulses with need. She holds my scented fabric, breathing it while her hips grind against the cave floor. Seeking relief that won't come without me.
My secondary cock emerges again, wrapping around my wrist without conscious thought. The pressure helps nothing. My body knows what it wants. Who it wants. The specific female whose chemistry matches mine perfectly.
But claiming her now would be victory without earning. She needs to choose. To surrender not because the tonic breaks her but because she decides I'm worth surrendering to.
The night fills with sounds of gathering males. Calls between them. Territorial disputes as they jostle for position. By dawn there might be a dozen. By tomorrow, more.
I climb to the highest point in my territory, where I can see all approaches. My tail wraps around the trunk for stability while I watch and wait.
Below, she screams through another wave. The sound carries far in the still night. Every male hears it. Knows how desperate she is. How ready.
My primary cock pulses with each of her cries. The knot at its base swells partially, instinct preparing to claim. To breed. To make her mine in ways that can't be undone.
But she hasn't chosen yet. Hasn't surrendered. Still fights despite the torture.
The game continues. More complex now with other males circling, with shadow cats drawn by distress, with time running short before formal challenges begin.
My control measured in hours now, not days. My cocks both fully emerged, refusing to retract despite my will. The knot swells and deflates in rhythm with her cries. My secondary cock wraps around my thigh, seeking stimulation I won't provide.
I watch her struggle beautifully through the night. Watch her fight her body's demands even as they grow stronger. Watch her maintain who she is despite what she's becoming.
This female is different. Worth the wait. Worth the risk of challenges. Worth the agony of delayed claiming.
My tail tightens around the tree as her scent peaks again. Sweet and musky and perfect. Exactly what my body has waited forty seasons to find.
She will be mine. Through her choice or through defeating any who challenge for her.
The only question is how many will bleed before she's claimed.
ZIA
