The hunt went well today, bagged a fat boar. I'm exhausted, covered in sweat and mud. Got back to find our pet waiting eagerly. Buzoom insisted it was 'feeding time'—can't argue with her. But the relief of letting that aching nipple into that little mouth isn't bad… Watching the little thing suckle and shiver, even Shaga quieted down, just poking its cheek playfully. Now the little glutton is full, dozing between my legs, its face pressed against my damp slit, its warm breath tickling. Ah well, let it sleep.