Page 51 of Strays
The three of us end up agreeing on a beige couch, soft as hell and big enough for all of us to fit. Jo approves this one with a smile.
“I already have a plush blue throw that’ll look perfect over it,” she says, excited.
We also pick out a light wooden dining table with eight chairs, and a carved chest that catches Jo’s eye. I’m not sure what it’s for, but it’s beautiful, polished wood with little flowers cut into the surface.
Jo also leads us to a handful of other shops for household stuff: kitchen appliances, curtains, lamps, cleaning supplies. She asks for our opinions, but we pretty much like everything she picks, so our real job is carrying everything from the stores to the truck, and from the truck to her already overcrowdedapartment. She tries to carry the smaller bags herself, but we don’t let her; her ribs still aren’t supposed to handle any weight.
She wants to bring all her books, kitchen gear, decorations, and what looks like a lifetime of personal stuff to the new house, so the next day, we help her pack up her things while she makes phone calls, renting the moving truck, and setting up the utilities: electricity, gas, internet, cable.
By the time we’ve packed less than half of it, the apartment can’t hold another box. There’s no space left to walk. Jo has to step over boxes to get across the living room, and when she has to climb over the half-wall because the kitchen doorway is completely blocked, my brothers and I call it. We load our truck with boxes and make back-and-forth trips to the new house, just to make enough room for her to move through the apartment again.
She’s so overwhelmed, she decides to keep the apartment for a few more weeks and deal with the lease and final clean-up later.
It’s chaos, with all the things to do and all the making out we sneak in between tasks, but we manage to finish everything by our last day off. We leave early in the morning: Shane drives the rental truck; Jay and I follow in ours; and Jo drives her Corolla.
By lunchtime, we’re still so busy unloading both trucks, sorting boxes, and trying to figure out where everything should go that Jo just orders pizza so we don’t have to stop for long.
When night falls, we’re all exhausted, but it’s worth it. All of it. There are still sealed boxes scattered around the house, but it already feels more like home than anywhere else I’ve ever lived.
It’s just past eight, but on top of being bone-tired, we are so damn eager to be in a nest with her again that the three of us have already showered and stretched out on the soft new nest, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom.
By now, I’m used to the sharp spice that sneaks into her scent when she’s aroused. It’s been happening all week, every night when we change into shorts to sleep, every time we are messing around and even at random moments that catch us completely off guard.
She never says anything, so we don’t either. We don’t want to pressure her. But holy fuck, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about finally having her.
When the bathroom door clicks open, I brace myself.
It’s always the worst right after she bathes. All those days we stayed with her in her apartment, she never changed in front of us, but she always came back into the bedroom in nothing but a towel, with bare skin, dripping hair, and steam still clinging to her body, just to grab clothes before ducking back into the bathroom to change.
Every single time, my shorts swelled and I embarrassed myself. Jay and Shane weren’t much better. We all scrambled to cover up with whatever was nearbywhile she pretended not to notice.
So now, we already know the drill. The second we hear her steps in the hallway, we pull the covers up, pretending we’re just relaxing.
I expect her to head straight for her clothes, but this time, she doesn’t.
RutPhysiology and pack-Dependent Sexual Function in Aegis
Excerpt from Emergent Divergence: The Evolutionary Path of Homo Gregalis by Dr. Steve Bureau, Ph.D. (4th ed., West Kempton Institute Press)
Knotting is a reproductive mechanism characterized by vascular engorgement of a specialized erectile bulb located at the base of the aegis penis. This structure, commonly called the knot, locks the male to his mate, increasing the probability of conception.
The knot contains a unique internal structure called the corpus clavus, a small reservoir of erectile tissue encased in a dense fibrous sheath, functionally similar to the tunica albuginea in human anatomy.
When the full neurochemical conditions of rut are present — elevated oxytocin, vasopressin, and high dopaminergic tone — arterial inflow to the corpus clavus rises sharply while venous outflow is restricted. Blood accumulates within this confined reservoir, generating significant internal pressure that becomes progressively uncomfortable, often verging on painful. This mounting pressure acts as a physiological signal, alerting the aegis that full knotting is imminent.
Once the pressure threshold is reached, the fibrous sheath partially twists, opening the internal channels of the corpus clavus and allowing the blood to flood into the surrounding erectile tissue of the knot. This sudden decompression releases the built-up pressure and is accompanied by a surge of endogenous opioids and dopamine, resulting in intense relief and pleasure.
The blood then flows rapidly through the opened corpus clavus into the entire erectile bulb, causing the knot to swell fully and lock the aegis in place.
The knot typically remains engorged for two to four minutes, after which gradual vasoconstriction and resumed venous drainage lead to detumescence, permitting safe separation from the nyra without tissue damage.
CHAPTER TWELVE
What Perfection Feels Like
She comes right to the nest and sits on the edge. She’s still wrapped in a towel, tucked under her arms, one hand clutching the fabric to keep it in place. Her hair is damp, but not dripping like usual. Her scent is so goddamn strong it hits the back of my throat.
She just sits there for a moment.
