Page 9 of Meat

He decided to explore further.

A little farther up, Ravnar noticed a marking. A series of perfectly straight vertical lines tattooed into the creature’s skin. Definitely not natural, that. A nith marking for sure.

Ravnar raised himself to full height and inspected the creature’s skinny little legs. One leg was caught in the rope noose of his snare. The other leg hung slightly askew. Both were covered from foot to knee with dozens of tiny nicks and cuts that had been acquired, no doubt, as the fragile-skinned creature fled through the brambles. The skin there was streaked with drying blood.

Red blood, like his. Like an ukkur’s.

Ravnar leaned in and licked the creature’s blood-stained shin. It tasted of iron. Different from the coppery green blood of the other beasts that he hunted on this world.

Interesting. That red blood would give the meat a different flavor. Ravnar tried to imagine how the creature’s soft, weak muscles would taste after being roasted over an open flame.

He would find out soon enough.

But now another scent invaded his nostrils. It was the smell rising from between the creature’s open thighs.

Ravnar bowed his head to inspect that warm, aromatic crevice.

The slit between the creature’s legs was not a wound as Ravnar had first supposed. It was an orifice of some kind, a small vertical mouth edged with soft fur.

But what was its purpose?

Ravnar spun the dangling body so that he was looking at the creature’s backside. He peeled her rump apart and found, as he expected to, the small puckered hole between those soft cheeks.

He sniffed at it.

Anus.

He was equipped with such a hole as well. It was for expelling shit. So that’s not what the other hole on the other side was for.

Ravnar spun the creature so that they were front to front once again. This time he placed his rough fingers on the pillowed outer lips of her grooved opening and prised it apart, revealing layered inner folds and smooth pink tissue like the inside of a mouth.

Actually, there were two holes here.

One was tiny, barely more than a pin prick. Ravnar tested it with his tongue tip. Salt and a bitter hint of ammonia. That hole was for pissing, just like the one on the end of his stick.

What, then, was the other hole for?

Ravnar pressed his snout to that pink opening and inhaled deeply, letting the raw, sweet scent stream into his lungs. The odor went straight into his bloodstream, pumped straight into his cock, making it painfully rigid with an arousal he did not understand.

The ukkur hunter groaned and sniffed that hole again, even deeper this time. His cock pulsed. Syrupy secretions leaked from his tip.

This hole…what was this hole?

What was this overwhelming perfume that sent strange sensations slithering through his veins and stiffened his cock to the point of breaking?

He had to know.

He would figure it out.

Ravnar tasted it, tentatively at first, then with long, lapping strokes. He dragged his wet tongue up and down that pink groove, soaking up as much of the tangy flavor as he could get. He jammed his tongue tip deep, trying to get at that hidden nectar. The creature—the not-ukkur—moaned and whimpered in its sleep.

Only when his lungs started to ache did Ravnar finally come up for breath.

This creature was fucking delicious.

He couldn’t wait to eat it for real.

But first, he needed just one more taste of that addictive flavor exuding from between the animal’s legs. He smashed his face against that warm, open slit, sucking and licking even more lustily now. His tongue swirled and circled all around that sweet little crotch, even delving into the thatch of soft, short hair at one end.