Cursed

Pria Mere didn't look anyone in the eye as she walked through Highspire's dirt roads holding her basket. Today, she noticed her hands seemed less wrinkled than usual.

"Flowers, Mrs. Felmor?" She offered a bloom. The grumpy woman didn't acknowledge today's flowers' beauty, or speak. She simply took one without halting, her long skirt brushing the cold ground.

Mrs. Felmor usually walked barefoot during warmer seasons when soft moss coated Highspire's ground--an accustomed habit of most villagers. It provided a soothing relief underfoot. Unlike those who ventured beyond town where shoes were necessary to protect from hard and jagged surfaces.

Pria preferred to walk shoeless. Normally, her shoes would be in her cart alongside the blooms she sold daily. However, for the next few weeks, Pria would have to don her hated foot coverings every time she stepped outside, not just when gathering flowers.

Adjusting the remaining flowers in her basket, she shrugged off the woman's attitude and turned to the next passerby, ready for a new interaction.

"Flowers, Mr. Xenlim?" She held one out to the young man who had just finished a month of being married. "Oh, sorry, I forgot," Pria said, pulling the flowers back right when he was reaching for them. "Your wife already took some earlier. Sorry about that."

"No worries, Pria," he said, not bothering to be formal with her. She had long stopped asking him to call her Ms. Mere as she did with many younger citizens of Highspire. She blamed their parents and families. Especially, the Xenlim's and the other four prominent families in Hightspire. There was so much to blame on those families. If it weren t for them, she wouldn't be in this situation.

She watched the man walk away, trying to hold back the disgust on her face, knowing that it was his plump belly that caused her curse.

How long could she keep the secret before someone found out? She had thought of running away, leaving the village, but the curse, she knew, would just follow her-- all odious things did. It would follow her, and the next town or village would find out. And at some point, she would be killed.

Highspire has been her home for most of her life, like most villagers here, but in recent days, it felt less so. No, she shook her head, she would die here at the hands of those who knew her best, not strangers. 

"I'll take a few, Ms. Mere," a gentle voice said, and Pria turned to see Little Lilan, though she wasn't little anymore. She was a grown woman now, married with two children. But Pria still couldn't stop calling her Little Lilan.

Pria gave her a few flowers, seeing that she was almost out and would need to return to her cart at the end of the road to refill her basket. She then noticed Berla behind Lilan, her head turned, looking down the road. Pria's heart thudded against her chest as she tried to hide her surprise with a few coughs. 

"Are you alright, Ms. Mere?" Little Lilan's voice was full of genuine concern, and she placed a hand on Pria's shoulder. 

Pria finished another cough. "I'm just fine, dear," she patted her hand. She took a deep breath before asking, "Berla, would you like some flowers for your hearth or. .. . uh . . . your nightstand?"

Berla looked sharply at Pria, and Pria gave her a warm smile in return. The young woman studied her briefly before taking a flower. "Thank you," she said, her cheeks flushing slightly with color. She looked quickly away and began walking down the road. "We shouldn't delay on helping with the late-hour foraging."

"Good productivity,"  Little Lila said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. She caught up with Berla, who was walking a few steps ahead.

Pria watched Berla's swaying hips, her thoughts veering towards the image of what was hidden beneath Berla's skirts. Oh, how plump and round her bottom was.  So squeezable and--

"Good afternoon." Someone blocked Pria's view of the women, and she quickly snapped her attention back to her duties. She greeted the fellow villager with a smile.

"Flower," she extended her hand.

"Oh, yes," the woman said as she released her hand from her child's. Two more stood nearby, their attention seemingly fixed on Mr. Tehner's stand of freshly baked fruit.

"No, no," the mother said firmly to her children. "We've already had our rations for today. After washing duties, you'll be eating fresh greens tonight."

The disappointment and disgust were clear on their young faces for what they would be having for dinner.

"These are quite lovely," the mother said to Pria. "Have we had this type of variety already this month? I can't recall seeing them before."

Pria shook her head gently. "This particular type bloomed a few winters ago," she explained, "It's probably why it doesn't come to mind. No two flowers bloom within the same month."

The woman chuckled, "I don't see how you can keep up with them. Every day they seem unique to me." She paused for a moment before continuing, "I'll take a few for the hearth and for the baths."

The flowers were unique every day for a month, yet Pria kept her thoughts to herself. She knew her fellow villager was just giving her a compliment and small talk.

"You can use some of its pollen for your dinner tonight," Pria suggested, looking at the children. "It will give it a great taste."

"Oh, these pollens will go well with food?" the woman said, handing bundles of flowers over to her children. "I tried to use some a few days ago, and it made my dinner too spicy."

Pria softly reminded her, "The list for each type is in the Highspire Guidebook."

The woman sighed. "Oh, I haven't been able to afford the latest version."

Pria nodded, understanding. "Honestly, I haven't either."

The woman gave her an appreciative smile and gathered her children, ready to head to their shift of washing duties.

It was Pria's day to eat at the community center, which could hold half the village, but now only a fourth of the village was allowed. Every fourth day, people's bellies were guaranteed to be full, unless you were a member of the five prominent families, who always ate at home, never showing the amount of food on their tables.

In years past, one could eat once a day during the winter season--splitting dining time into two shifts. The harvest amount hadn't changed, and their numbers didn't increase too much to affect the food supply; it was simply that some began to eat outside their normal times, and multiple times a day. As that increased, it decreased the food for the winter. 

Pria knew this would not be tolerated by the rest of the village if the prominent families didn't have control over food storage, defense, and trade. Although the unfair system was bad, it was still safer than the chaos that might follow if the prominent families failed. 

Yet, she still couldn't stop blaming them for her curse.

At the community center, she sat at her usual spot where singles ate. A steaming bowl of fruit and roasted nuts was placed in front of her, and she thanked the server.  This fruit was what was sustaining the village now, and though she knew the truth of it, she gobbled it down anyway.

At home, Pria took off her shoes and looked at the steam rising from the tub's water. Yusil and his troop were able to make it to her area today to fill her furnace. She should have been connected to the community's heating source, but they haven't made it out this far yet. That was on the list of multiple other things the village hadn't done. She had been waiting for years. Now she had to depend on Yusil, who needed repeated confrontation about doing his job better for those individual homes that still required personal care.

She sighed, taking off her clothes and submerging herself in the water, and began washing. Kerl and his troop would be by tomorrow to empty and clean her tub, providing fresh water into her tank. Kerl always did his job right. Every member of the village had to do their job, or else more hardship would come.

Pria glanced over at her bed, its bedposts and headboard almost making it appear as if it were a room unto itself. She never thought of it in this way until five nights ago. It was just a bed, but now it seemed like an entirely different world.

She got out of the tub, dried off, and picked up the beautiful nightgown that sat on her chair near her fireplace. Her fingers ran along its soft surface. She never had anything luxurious before; this nightgown was clearly worth more than a season's worth of food. She slipped it on and slid her hands over its texture. Its strange designs and raised imprints of flowers and trees were a marvel to look at. With it on, she felt as if she were as pretty as a flower. If only she had a full-length mirror to confirm it. There was one at the clothing shop, but she wouldn't dare bring this gown there--it would be like shouting that her head should be chopped off.

Sighing, she crawled into her bed and pulled the blankets tightly around her chest. The blankets couldn't protect her from what was coming. Nothing could. And this beautiful nightgown? It would be replaced tomorrow.

Her eyelids grew heavy as sleep began to take hold, and she allowed herself to drift off into unconsciousness.

It was the same as five nights ago. She woke up, unable to move. The first night, she had panicked, trying to free herself from whatever kept her immobile. Something was wrapped around both her legs and arms, and kept her head from moving. She had screamed, but she couldn't hear her voice. Something was cupped around her mouth, keeping the sound from reaching her ears.

She couldn't see it at first; its translucent body revealed nothing but her small cabin's shadows. Then, the distant light from the lamppost flickered, and she could see the specks of shining particles glittering for a moment before vanishing again.

As fear ebbed enough to allow concentration, she could make out the shape more clearly.

It was an enormous glob that filled up her entire home, parts of which secured her to the bed. It had no scent and made no sound. Exhausted from her attempts to break free, Pria felt a sudden shift in its movements to begin to do what it had come for.

Its warm skin slid up and down her arms and legs simultaneously, slinking up under her nightgown and pulling it above her waist. She struggled again, her strength returning, only to become paralyzed as something warm took hold of her most pleasurable spot. It moved up and down in a manner that widened her eyes and sent pleasurable chills down her body.

She didn't know why she was reacting this way; on the first night, she had melted under its touch. She knew she moaned at some point but couldn't hear herself as it kept a firm grip around her mouth and chin, though it didn't muffle her cries. Her lips were free to move as much as they liked; she just didn't hear what came from them.

Her body responded instinctively to the creature's touch as her insides moistened with the gradual increase of arousal. It widened and bent her legs. She knew what its intent was, and she didn't fight it.

Hard flesh plunged inside of her, and her back arched with the sensation. For a moment, there was a brief pause before the rhythmic thrusting began, and her moans matched the rhythm. That is, if she could have actually heard them.

As its slithering arms made their way to her hardened nipples, finally sound reached her ears. It was the bed striking against the wall.

Then there was the sound of her nightgown ripping. It was the only sleepwear that she owned! It ripped it apart first exposing one breast and then another, sucking and fondling them as it went. It lifted her by her lower back, thrusting deeper and continuing to tear more of her gown. By the time she reached her peak, her nightgown was in shreds.

Her screams of ecstasy still never reached her ears, but the sound of her headboard hitting the wall did.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was the fourth night when her mind left her, and she was no longer in her cabin, but in another's. It was much larger than hers, a wall separating the living area from the sleeping quarters.

Her gaze fell upon Berla, who was bent over a dark shape of a man. Its hands were comically too large for its body and moved with mechanical precision. It sat on her nightstand.

The contents of the nightstand were spilled onto the floor, creating a chaotic mess of papers, trinkets, and small oil bottles.

Berla clutched her bedsheets in both hands, straining more of the cloth between her teeth as she raised her head in pleasure.

The dark shape loomed over her, its enormous hand descending with force on her perfectly plump backside.

"You apologize," a voice demanded, "but you still remain naughty!"

The hand came down again on her flesh. "Why must you always be a bad girl!" it chided.

Whack!

Berla shuddered with delight as her words were reduced to muffled apologies from the blanket clenched between her teeth.

"Not good enough," the voice echoed, its tone harsh and unyielding. "You know better than to be naughty." Whack!

It wasn't a voice Pria knew, nor was its shape that of someone familiar to her.

The entity slapped and cupped Berla's flesh several more times as Pria watched her bottom turning red.

The creature then stood up, positioned itself behind her and declared, "More punishment time!" 

A thick shape jutted out from its body, resembling an engorged penis before targeting Berla's damp opening and diving in. Berla let out a sound, Pria knew, but she couldn't hear it as the entity cupped its hand firmly around her mouth.

"Bad girl!" it thrusted with every word, punctuating each syllable with forceful movements that seemed to echo through Berla's entire body. "Such. A. Bad. Girl!"

Another arm surged out, wrapping itself around Berla and holding her in place as the creature rammed inside her with relentless intensity. The end of the arm snaked between her legs, caressing and exploring every inch of her most intimate areas. And another arm came out, this one equipped with a hand that wielded with precision. It alternated between its zealous thrusts, landing blows on Berla's flesh with a rhythm that seemed almost choreographed to maximize her discomfort and pleasure.

"Bad. Girl," it shouted. "Naughty. And. Bad. Girl!"

Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! 

Pria watched as the entity took Berla until she was no longer clutching the blanket, her head limp against the mattress. Yet, it continued on, exclaiming how naughty she was, and how much she deserved her punishment. Even when Pria thought Berla had fallen asleep, the creature showed no signs of stopping.

At some point, it decided to end its fun, its absurdly large hands kneading Berla's buttocks until the redness vanished completely, as if it had never been there.

Gently, it placed Berla on her bed before melting down into a translucent glob and oozing out of the open window.

This fifth night, Pria wasn't shown the ending of Berla's punishment. Instead, the whacking continued until she was inside another home--Harlow and Janitte Wiskhoff.

They were one of the older couples, at least fifteen years older than Pria, with children and grandchildren to give them multiple visits. Their beds stood on each side of the room, the large space between them filled with a round carpet and a short table littered with their belongings.

Janitte had complained that she couldn't sleep next to Harlow because he was "just too restless" when he slept. This was confirmed as Mr. Wskhoff kicked off his blanket and turned, before then turning again on his back. He scratched at his beard, mumbled something in his sleep, before settling down again.

A black wall slowly rose from the floor and stopped just inches below the ceiling as they quietly slept. Pria saw something sink onto Harlow's bed, taking on the shape of a woman. Her hands eagerly pulled down his pants, rousing him from his sleep.

Harlow's eyes shot open in shock and confusion as he felt the cold air against his skin. He looked down at the figure and then turned his head to look at his wife. His eyes only met a black wall.

"Oh, Mr. Wiskhoff," a woman's voice said from the dark figure. "Does this still work?" 

It played with his wilted penis until it began to harden. "Oh, Mr. Wiskhoff! It does still work!" it exclaimed before opening its mouth so wide that a normal head would have broken a jaw. It swallowed his hardened flesh as Harlow gasped and then clasped his hand over his mouth.

"Mr. Wiskhoff," it mumbled between slurps, "so tasty. So delicious!" Its head bopped up and down though its mouth never moved from surrounding his penis. 

Mr. Wiskhoff slapped another hand on top of the one covering his mouth, releasing his orgasm into the creature's waiting mouth.

"Oh, Mr. Wiskhoff, more," it demanded after making a scene of gorging itself. "I must have more."

A large tongue came out from its open mouth and began licking Harlow's flesh back to life. This wouldn't be possible, Pria knew, if Highspire hadn't broken the rule. Harlow's behavior wouldn't be this way, nor Berla, nor her own, if they just hadn't...

"Oh, Mr. Wiskhoff!" the woman shrieked.

The entity jumped up and its hips slammed down hard onto Harlow's pelvis. It screamed with delight.

"Hush, girl," Harlow warned. "She'll hear us."

"Oh, Mr. Wiskhoff!" she cried out, her hips slamming down again onto his hard flesh. "Please have me!"

She jumped up from him and landed on her back, spreading her legs wide open in the air. Harlow didn't hesitate a moment longer; he sprang up and positioned himself right over her, thrusting into her with all of his might.

"Harder, Mr. Wiskhoff! Harder!" she demanded, arching her back as he pounded into her relentlessly.

"You like it hard?" Harlow's voice was gruff with desire. "You do?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Wiskhoff! I do!"

Pria's vision shifted to the other side of the black wall, where a glob had taken Ms. Wiskhoff's turned-down nipples in its tiny hands. It fondled her breasts as they lay on her chest, and Pria could see something slowly moving in and out of her, gently pleasuring her insides.

Ms. Wiskhoff wore an expression of relaxed pleasure, her eyes closed tightly to the sensation. When the wall lowered, she remained oblivious to Mr. Wiskhoff being carried to Mrs. Wiskhoff's bed.

"Oh, Harlow," a whisper filled Mr. Wiskhoff's ears, "take me. Take me hard."

It spoke in Mrs. Wiskhoff's voice, as her lips had never moved.

"You want it hard, Janitte? Really?" Harlow questioned.

"Oh, Harlow, yes," his wife's voice answered.

He was dangling just above her now.

"Here I go!" he said, not waiting for any objection, and he plunged in and hit his pelvis hard against hers. Or so, Pria thought. He wasn't that close enough to enter Janitte, as Pria watched his hard flesh going in and out of the glob's presence instead. While something slow and hard moved inside Janitte.

"Harder, Harlow, harder," the voice demanded.

"Oh, Janitte," Mr. Wiskhoff exclaimed, "I knew you would like it. You finally like it like this!"

"Oh, Harlow, I love you." That was the real Janitte's voice this time, as the entity slid leisurely inside her. 

"I love you too," the entity said in Janitte's ears using Harlow's voice. It was a gentle tone that brought tears to her eyes.

"I have always loved you."

Janitte didn't hear Mr. Wiskhoff whooping and hollering as he madly banged away. "I'm fucking you, Janitte! I'm fucking you hard!"

"Fuck me, Harlow!" Mrs. Wiskhoff's voice growled in Harlow's ears. "Fuck me, hard, you old geezer!"

"I'll show you an old geezer," he whooped, and Pria watched as they both climaxed. Mr. Wiskhoff seeds were absorbed by the entity, and Mrs. Wiskhoff's head tilted back as it continued sliding into her. Their mouths were cupped as they only heard the fake orgasm of their spouse.

Mr. Wiskhoff slumped over, exhausted.

"Don't say anything to me about this, Harlow," it warned in his spouses' voice. "You know how I don't like to talk about such things in the day."

"I know, Janitte," Mr. Wiskhoff mumbled. He was snoring by the time he was floated back to his own bed.

Janitte, on the other hand, still had the entity gradually pacing itself inside her, never rushing her, always waiting. As Janitte finally came to climax again and again, Pria found herself back in her cabin. Her body taut with desire as the images of the Wiskhoff's and Berla pressed for the peak of her own pleasure.

The monster wasn't finished with her yet, just like it wasn't finished with Mrs. Wiskhoff. Its thrusts continued, her moans kept from her. The headboard continued to hit the wall.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She would fall asleep at some point, waking up here and there, seeing that it continued to ravage her. And at some time, she'd open her eyes, and it would be morning. No sign that it was even there. Her sheets clean. Her body refreshed. And a new nightgown draped over her chair. This one was light gold.

++ + +

Pria completed her morning routine of hot broth and a face wash. Remembering to put on her shoes before she went out towards the forest, she took the hour walk to get to the flowers. They were lined up, as always, near the border between the place that was right, and the place that was wrong: Genu Territory and Erron Territory.

It was safe where she stood to pick the flowers. The wrong place, Erron, was still a few feet away. It was easy to see the border between the two territories, for Erron's season never changed. Lush green and bountiful fruits filled its tempting forest, but there was nothing heavenly about it, as the odious creatures that lived within proved time and again.

Pria had heard all sorts of stories of those who went in and who had miraculously escaped. There was a woman who lost all of her hair and couldn't regrow it for years. She said a creature had caught her, licked her everywhere and took her hair. There was the most frequented story of a creature who took your years, aging you a year for each day of capture. The lure of that story was that if one did escape, they would stay that same age forever. Then, there were those stories of those who went in as a woman, and came back as a man, and vice versa.

There was always talk of the benefits that could be gained if one took the chance and ventured into Erron Territory, but there were also stories of those who never returned.

Many refused to get too close to Erron Territory, choosing never to set eyes on it. That's why her job was so important, though she wasn't given enough benefits for her sacrifice.

Pria began to pick the flowers. This day, they were violet with thin petals and dark purple stems, lining the border between Genu Territory and Erron Territory. She filled her basket, dumping them into her cart before returning for more. The flowers kept one healthy, and during the seasons when pests were abundant, they kept them at bay.

It was a practice to make sure they were burned at night, because by the next day, they reeked of decay. Whatever object they sat upon, they would melt into, ruining it forever. It then had to be burned and thrown out.

A sudden movement within Erron Territory made her look up. Of course, there was nothing ever there.

Returning to picking, she found herself back in the area where the leaders of Highspire said they had found the tree. It was unsafe to take anything from Erron Territory, but it was safe if a tree had fallen and landed in Genu Territory. Then, it could be pulled and used, and those who stumbled upon it would be rich.

That is, if they proved it was safe by displaying a light brown center instead of a pink one. Pink meant that it had been cut down within Erron Territory, and somehow those who had done it came back out untouched.

Even then, it would need to sit for a week and be guarded to make sure nothing was inside it.

The creatures that dwelled in Erron Territory always remained within their land, unless provoked. And if they were, they knew exactly which ones had broken the rule and came after them. It wasn't long before people started to notice the signs of one that was cursed: strange body changes, unable to speak normal language anymore, a dark shadow following around them. . . The curse came in many different ways, but however it manifested, the person afflicted with it needed to be killed as quickly and humanely as possible. Otherwise, the curse could spread, infecting others.

Pria stood where the fabricated evidence was presented that said the tree from Erron had fallen into Genu Territory. She knew that tree's fruit. She knew the shape of its leaves. She knew the shape of the flowers that looked like white bells. If that tree had fallen, it would had remained in Erron Territory. That tree was hundreds of feet deep inside Erron. Yet, no one questioned their leaders, never demanding to see the color of the tree's center. Their bellies were empty and their hunger spoke over reason.

They ate the tree's fruit and continued to eat its fruit as the tree seemed to never die and its fruit replenished every few days even enough to feed the entire village for the rest of the winter. She was asked to be the first one to take a bite of the cooked fruit, being that they considered her a plant expert. That wasn't the real reason at all. It was to placate any concerns from the village, that it was safe to eat. And she went along.

It was Erdan who had convinced her, being that he was her former lover but had chosen someone else to marry and have children with. He was from one of the prominent families. It was clear that he had been asked to speak to her.

He hadn't said more than two or three sentences to her since he married, and hardly a couple of words when his grandchildren came. He wasn't much of a lover, yet she allowed him to convince her for the sake of the village.

"We don't have a choice," Erdan had said, "food is scarce and the tree really did fall into our territory. It is a blessing, really."

She wanted to frown at him and scold him that if the prominent families had just taken their normal share, they wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. But she didn't. And so, she took the first bite.

Nothing happened for weeks after, until five nights ago. She knew then, if they killed her, everyone would have been safe. Maybe.

"Flower?"

Pria smiled politely as a few passerby took a handful of violet plants.

She stared at her hand, now showing no signs of age. No one seemed to notice.

Turning her thoughts to the remaining flowers she had not given away, Pria stopped at the multiple bonfires throughout the village that were later lit by Yusil and his troop. That was one part of his job that he couldn't neglect.

++ + +

Pria had another warm bath that night and put on her new nightgown. It was a shame that such beauty would be torn to shreds.

That night after her third orgasm, she went through the homes of Berla, Mr. and Mrs Wiskhoff, and then on to the three sisters. They weren't really sisters, being that they all had different parents, but they called each other that, and so did the rest of the village. They had grown up together, being so close, they never allowed any man to marry them. There were whispers in the village about their relationship, but it was just that whispers.

But this night, Pria learned that the whispers were true.

The older of the three, Delli, was already squirming in her bed, the entity seized around her firm little flesh. Cinler and Marsh were still asleep in their beds.

Take her, the voice echoed in her ear, and Delli got up, the entity shaping and enlarging where her pleasure center was. She pulled off her nightgown and walked over to Cinler's bed. Breathing heavily, she crawled in.

"Delli," Cinler mumbled, "not tonight, I'm tired."

Take her, the voice urged.

Delli turned Cinler over, laying on top of her. She took her lips with her own.

"Delli," Cinler began to protest, but then arched as something latched on to her own pleasure center. "Oh, Delli, what are you doing with your hands?" she gasped, her body wiggling for more.

Cinler didn't comprehend that Delli had both of her arms holding onto hers, as she eagerly took more kisses. As the thing between them worked at both of their pleasure centers, Cinler moaned and Delli grinded against her harder. Soon, the entity had turned into a harden penis, pushing itself inside Cinler as it wrapped around Delli's hips.

"Yes! Yes!" Delli cried out, her voice echoing through the room as she thrust her hips, feeling her pleasure center now lengthen and thick inside moist flesh.

Cinler could only moan in response as Delli claimed her insides.

"Could you both keep it down," Marsh said, her massive body making her bed squeak as she turned over. "Some of us is trying to sleep."

A voice came near Marsh's ear. "Sleep?" It swirled around her earlobe. "No, we don't want to sleep. We want to play."

It was a woman's voice in Marsh's ear as it yanked her up from her bed and dangled her upside down. Her screams were muted as it cupped her mouth, her night gown dangling down like an upturned mushroom as it covered her head, her body exposed.

"Let's play," it said, as finger probed Marsh's fleshy lips and fingered her pleasure center.

"So cute," the entity purred, its voice dripping with ravenous intentions. "So tiny. And oh, so firm now."

Fingers continued to play, fondling in an intoxicating way. Marsh's body slowly began to react to the sensation, the bounce of her limbs in the air causing a strange heat to build within her.

Her nightgown dropped off, exposing her fully to the entity's prodding as it dangled her upside down in the air. Fingers dug and searched, finding all the right spots that made Marsh moan in response.

Across the room, Delli gave a final push as ecstasy burst through her. Unable to move any further, she collapsed onto Cinler, their bodies still entwined.

The entity caught them both, its grip firm and unyielding as it used Delli's body like a doll, keeping her moving.

Yours, it whispered in her ear with dark intensity. They both are yours.

Cinler continued to squirm and moan as the entity puppeteered Delli's body to hold her down as it drilled inside her. It took their moans, Delli weak ones and Cinler's strong ones, cupping their mouths and continued lunging relentlessly.

"Mommy!" Marsh screamed as she erupted in ecstasy, her massive body convulsing beneath the entity's touch. It was a childish title for a woman her size and age, but the unmistakable pleasure on her face said it all.

"Mommy won't ever know," the voice said to her, its fingers tracing along Marsh's exposed flesh. "I'm going to play with you allll night!"

Pria could see invisible fingers pressing into Marsh's breasts which hung towards her head and slapped at her neck. Her nipples were forced into a cone shape, as if something was sucking them both at the same time.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Marsh screamed, as she was bobbed up and down in the air by unseen hands.

"Weeee!" the creature exclaimed gleefully, as it plunged inside her, immediately making her climax again.

Delli had regained her strength and took over pounding inside Cinler.

"You're mine," she said between breaths. "You're mine!"

The voice continued to echo in Delli's ears, goading her on. All yours.

Pria was pulled away from the three sisters house and to the living room of another. An overly muscular giant stood before Yusil who knelt on the floor.

The giant's back rippled like a second heartbeat, brushing against the ceiling as he stood before him.

"Please," Yusil begged, "please don't make me do this."

The massive creature placed a gentle hand on the back of Yusil's head. It carefully massaged his scalp before saying, "Suck." Its voice echoed through the room, filling every corner with its deep timbre.

With a tenderness, the creature pressed its hips forward, revealing a small, hard penis between its legs.

Yusil hesitated for a moment before opening his mouth and allowing the giant to press his head into its pelvis. The tiny penis fit perfectly inside his mouth, as Yusil moved back and forth of his own accord, finding a rhythm that suited them both.

The giant sighed and took a step back, its massive form towering over Yusil as it popped its tiny penis out of his mouth.

"Take up your shirt," the voice boomed.

"Please don't," Yusil pleaded, while still complying with the entity's command.

He wore a long shirt that covered him down to his thighs, and he pulled it up as he turned around to bend over.

"Higher," the giant bellowed, and Yusil lowered his head to the floor, making his hips angle upward in submission.

The giant sighed again, bending its massive frame downward until its tiny penis found its target. With a slight push, it entered Yusil's anus, causing him to give a soundless moan as the entity cupped his mouth. It pressed more, and then rocked itself against Yusil's bottom.

Yusil continued to moan with intense pleasure spreading across his face as the giant rolled its hips.

"Tight," it thundered. "Little. Ass."

Yusil grabbed his shins, his mouth gaping open in silent ecstasy. At some point, the giant picked him up, keeping him curled in a fetal position while using Yusil's entire body like an extended hand to masturbate against its hardened flesh.

The scene darkened, drawing Pria back to her cabin. The entity's roar continued unabated, encompassing her in its own ecstasy while the villagers' sounds and images threatened to push Pria to the edge of insanity.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

++ + +

"Flower?" Pria stretched her hand out, reminding the passerby that she was there.

"For your health, they must burn for continuous days," she said, alternating with, "Enjoy the sweet perfume."

She saw the Wiskhoffs and the sisters, searching for any differences in their demeanors. Mr. Wiskhoff wasn't in a bad mood, which wasn't too unusual though these days, he tended to have more good days than bad, which was a tinge of unusual. The sisters continued to whisper to each other, as they often did.

However, what caught her attention was that she had been receiving warm water baths consistently over the past few days, a luxury that Yusil and his troop usually didn't provide. Pria told herself not to get too comfortable.

The night brought more of the same: revisiting scenes that she had previously viewed, until she was transported once again to a new house--the rude Xenlim's residence--to the man who would never treat her with formality.

Arlo Xenlim stood in his dining room, looking at a woman who lay on a bed atop a long table. The table was laden with so many chairs that Pria knew it must be designed for two or three sets of families.

The strange woman lying on the table had her back to Arlo; a split in her nightgown revealed her bare buttocks. She appeared to be asleep.

Pria immediately recognized the entity. Its features were not entirely clear, except for its noticeable curves. This woman was not shaped like Arlo's wife at all, but Pria instantly recognized the braid of hair. The entity was shaped like Arlo's mother.

The lecherous look on Arlo's face was clear as he pulled out his hard member and began stroking it.

No, no, Pria thought as she watched. Don't, don't do this.

As Arlo's hand wasn't enough, he crept forward, crawling up chairs and onto the table to gently lie down behind her.

The woman stirred slightly, causing Arlo to freeze before finally settling back down. Slowly raising his aim, he gained enough courage to stroke his hard penis on one of her fleshy cheeks. He gently slid himself back and forth before positioning himself between both cheeks. He let out a soft moan before freezing again as she moved. She scratched at her nose and then shifted, her movement allowing his hard flesh to brush against hers a few times before she bent over, exposing more of her entrance before falling back asleep. Arlo took the bait.

He slid himself inside her, just the tip, before gently moving in more. Soon, he was sliding in and out, seemingly unnoticed by her. She slept through the entire deed as he lost control, moving faster than he should have. He came, pulling himself out to squirt right on her. Quickly, he wiped at it with his shirt, and as the slip of her nightgown recovered her buttocks, she mumbled something in her sleep before quieting down again.

Amazement flashed over his face before he silently crept back down from the table and stared at her. Then, his head turned as if he heard something, somewhere near the covered porch. He headed that way to find his sister's tall frame sitting upright on the bench. She was also in her nightgown, her bare buttocks easily visible through the wide slits of the bench.

"Amelle?" Arlo ventured cautiously, testing the waters for a response. Hearing none, he made his way around to see her sleeping, her head tilted back.

No, Pria thought. No. No. NO. Even though she knew it wasn't his real sister, the thought that he would consider such an act . . ..

Alro walked around to the back of the bench and bent down, his eyes level with her backside. Making a decision, he sat on the ground and slid himself under the bench, taking his hardness in his hands. She was perfectly positioned between the gaps, and he lifted his hips to push himself inside.

A drowsed delight washed over his face as he braced himself up, going deeper, then pulling out again. Sucking in his lips, he kept rising and falling into his sister until the familiar shudder took hold of him, and just in time, he pulled out to squirt onto the wood of the bench.

Sighing, he relaxed with his back against the hard floor, then realized he needed to move. He slid from underneath the bench, got to his feet, and walked around to study his sister again. Looking down at her, he gently moved a few strands of her hair out of the way.

I m finally touching you," he whispered softly, before looking up again.

Another noise echoed from inside the house.

He lowered his hand and went to investigate, passing the family table as he did so. His mother was nowhere in sight, and the bed had disappeared.

"Boy?" a voice called from the kitchen. "Boy! Come help me."

He knew that voice as his feet moved instantly. Pria could see the hopeful look on his face as he rounded the corner and stopped, frozen.

He found her lying on the floor. Her dress was pulled up, revealing parts of her body that he should never see.

"I fell," his grandmother said. "I can't get up. Help me up, boy."

Arlo continued to stare at her naked body, his eyes tracing the wrinkles and sagging skin that displayed an art of history.

"What are you staring at!" His grandmother snapped. "Don't just stand there like a dolt. Help me!"

Arlo didn't look at her face; if he did, he would have seen that she didn't quite resemble what he remembered. It didn't matter, though. Her body looked exactly as he had remembered, and he couldn't help but stare in amazement as a familiar sensation grew in his pants.

Leisurely, he reached down into his pants and exposed himself to her.

"What--? What are you doing!" his grandmother exclaimed in utter shock.

"I saw you," Arlo said, as he stroked himself. "I saw you and Great-Uncle Ikrwe. You know why I have to do this. You know I've always had to do this to you for what you did with him your own brother in the barn."

He spoke the words with a timeless familiarity. Nothing rehearsed, simply a blackmailed promise.

He bent down.

"Stop, boy!" she shouted. "Stop this nonsense."

"Just lie still like always, Nana," Arlo crooned softly. "So that I can keep your secret."

"Don't do this, boy! Don't!" But it was too late; he was already sliding himself inside her, his face contorting in agonizing pleasure.

"Oh, Nana," he moaned, "you feel just as incredible--just like way back then." He kept moving. "You know I have to do this--I'm always gentle with you. We must do this--we're family."

Her tone had changed to ragged breathing. "Boy," she said, "stop. Don't do this. You mustn't. You mustn't be like me."

"Nana!" Arlo dropped his head onto her breasts. "I missed you so much!" Tears came to his eyes. "I'm lasting longer, Nana--just like you taught me, so I can make strong children."

"Get off," she said, but there was no conviction in her tone. "Get off before someone sees." But his buttocks continued to move, clenching and unclenching as he drove himself deeper into her.

"You like it like this, don't you, Nana?" he whispered, his voice strained with emotion with every thrust. "Family inside you--being so close to family. I've missed it so much!"

"Stop, Arlo! You wicked boy!" his grandmother cried, but her tone conveyed no sincerity.

"I'm going to show you how close we are. I'm going to show you." His throat tightened as his muscles tensed. "I'm going to spurt it inside you now, so you can see--so you can see . . . exactly how . . . good . . . I am . . . at extending . . . our family."

He came, his lips pulled back in a grimace, revealing gritted teeth. His hand smacked down against the floor as he convulsed and jerked again. He ensured that his seeds filled her insides completely.

"Nana! I love you!"

With a final push, he reached his peak of pleasure before pulling out and breathing deeply--taking in the air his body had been denied.

Then, he sat up to look down at her.

"How was that, Nana?" he asked, his face turning to that of a child seeking approval. "How did I do?"

For a moment, she said nothing. And then she wagged a disappointed finger at him. "Last longer," his Nana grumbled.

He collapsed, defeated, onto her chest. "Yes, Nana."

"Seeds thick though," she consoled.

"Thank you, Nana," he breathed.

"Now, help me up like you should have done in the first place," she growled.

"Of course, Nana," he said. Although he was tired, he helped her to her feet.

"And remember, you do this only with me--not with your sister," she added.

Arlo simply nodded, glancing back at the covered porch as he sucked in a smile."I know, Nana. Never touch her."

Pria watched as the false Nana didn't pat the top of his head like an adult would with a child; instead, she patted him between the legs. She then pulled down on his shoulder so that she could whisper in his ear.

Pria couldn't hear her words, but whatever she said, made Arlo beam.

The scene faded as she was brought to a dimly lit home where Baxor sat in his rocking chair. His spectacles perched on the ridge of his nose as he read.

Just like Arlo, something made him look up; his gaze sharp and piercing. He was a creepy man, always had been, with his hair a stringy crown that was never cut or tied back. It always hung like a curtain over one eye, though it wasn't enough to impair his vision.

He was the type of man who looked clean--always wearing suits and maintaining well-groomed nails--but there was something inherently . . . dirty about him.

He took off his spectacles as the noise became apparent, filled with giggles from the next room. The chair rocked back as he stood up, going to the door; his hand paused mid-air before turning the doorknob.

Two spears of light angled into the room through gold-lined holes that shouldn't have been there, highlighting the area where the noise was coming from.

The giggles continued, accompanied by women's conversations.

"Just make sure to get the top after we do the bottom," a voice said. "Everything has to be spiffy clean."

Baxor considered opening the door again but then went to the holes in the wall. They were eye-level and he didn't have to bend to stretch and look through them. He walked closer and tentatively moved his head into position to view the scene beyond.

Naked women were in his house--about five of them. They held wet or dry cloths in their hands as they moved about cleaning. Their breasts bounced, and their hips swayed rhythmically as they worked, causing Baxor to swallow.

One woman playfully squeezed another's breast before passing by.

"Stop that," the offended woman said, giggling. She tried to snap her cloth at the retreating woman's bare cheeks but missed.

Baxor swallowed again; his Adam's apple moved up and down in his throat. He pressed his head more firmly against the wall as he watched the unsuspecting women.

Mimicking the offender, another woman squeezed the buttocks of the one closest to her, only to receive an unbothered wave of her victim's hand. She went seeking a more entertaining prey and finally received a giggle.

"No, don't put that there," a woman said, indicating a candle stick being moved to a table. "Put it over there."

"That's not where its supposed to go," the candle-stick holder frowned.

"It's just for now until I can clean this area."

"Oh," the woman said, now at ease, and placed the candle on a bookshelf.

Baxor licked his lips. "Use the candle stick," he whispered barely audibly.

The woman seemed to already be contemplating this suggestion, staring at the candle for a moment before removing it from its holder and spreading her legs. She inserted the waxing tool inside herself with ease, her face contorting in bliss as she slid the candle in and out. The other women continued their cleaning areas without noticing.

Baxor's eyes fervently moved around, taking in one woman after another. One bent over on her knees, her backside exposed as she began cleaning the floor. Every curve was revealed to him, and he couldn't resist fumbling with his pants.

"Don't move, don't move," he whispered to himself, frantically jerking at his flesh. He splattered against the wall with a soft "humph," causing the women to stop their work.

Holding his breath, he watched as the women looked around for the source of the noise. They didn't search for long; a few shrugged, finding nothing, and went back to their work.

His flesh hardened again as the candle-stick holder let out a howl while coming, drawing sharp gazes her way.

"We're going to have to clean that!" one exclaimed, as the candle-stick holder shivered out an apology.

Baxor gulped; his limp flesh hardened again.

"My breasts ache," one woman complained. Another volunteered to massage them, her fingers rolling over the nipples and cupping the hands underneath to knead upward in circular movements. She lingered a bit more on the nipples as they hardened. Both women began to blush as the session continued.

Baxor attempted to lower his hand again but met resistance. Something curved around his wrists, forcing his hands against the wall, and then wrapped around the back of his head, keeping his eyes aligned with the eye holes.

A wet, warm clamp enveloped his hard flesh, sucking relentlessly. He couldn't see what had him, but it didn't matter as his attention turned to the women. Two more went on their hands and knees to clean the floor, their breasts dangling and swaying, their fleshy middles exposed.

The sucks of his member worked in sync with the scene that filled his eyes as he let out a howl--he thought he did, because he couldn't hear it. Something cupped his mouth. His pleasure reigned, his eyes on the succulent feminine flesh, his release compounding with the giggling of their breasts.

Once done, he was released and Baxor stumbled back, escaping from the wall. Finding courage, he took steps towards the door, ready to open it--only to hear a loud burst of laughter from the other side of the wall.

"What are they laughing about?" he faltered, going straight back to the holes.

One of the women had spilled over a bucket of water; drips fell from her breasts and legs as she lay on the wet floor. She obviously tripped and fell into it.

"Ha. Ha," she said tonelessly. "Very funny."

Baxor couldn't tear his eyes away as the women all gathered to a corner of his house and picked up towels that weren't his but were there nonetheless. Soon, they were drying the fallen woman; the soft towels slid over her curves and breasts. She was clearly already dry, but they continued to use the towels on her, stopping to circle her hardened nipples with the corner of a towel.

One shaped the cloth into a phallus-like form, looked at her work with approval before driving it inside the drying woman. Her head went back in a moan as the woman moved it.

Baxor hardened again as one woman said, "Hold still. We're trying to dry you."

"Sure," Baxor whispered to himself. "You're getting her all wet."

The woman continued to squirm as the team used the soft towels all over her skin, causing goosebumps and finally eliciting several moans from her.

"We'll never finish if you keep getting wet!" one of them complained.

Baxor exploded, the cup around his mouth thankfully muting the sound that escaped. As the women continued to fondle and molest their chosen victim, Baxor kept watching, even when he could no longer rise.

Darkness swirled around Pria, and she found herself in the comfort of her home, once again. The entity collided into her as the moans of her fellow villagers filled her ears. It shared their sounds with her, goading her with pleasure until it could capture her own climax.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

++ + +

Pria held out the chosen flower for Mr. Dace to inspect. Her mind drifted back to the visions shown of him over the past few weeks. She had been swept through various houses, witnessing more visits and accepting the tempting scenes of the odious creature's salacious encounters.

Mr. Dace had a giant who visited him at night, just like a few others. She was enormous with massive breasts and nipples that he continued to latch onto while she rocked him.

"Don't worry," she cooed, "mommy will make the big, bad ouchie go away."

Her large hand stroked his penis as he continued to suck. Her arm cupped his entire body as she rocked him. She hummed a lullaby as her hand worked his flesh. When he finally jerked his legs and sent up a small spurt, she gently cleaned him with a warm cloth and swaddled him in a diaper.

"Baby's ouchie is all gone now."

A large, man-size cradle replaced where his bed had been, and the giantess rocked him in it--only to become alarmed when he pretended to cry because his "ouchie" returned.

"Oh no," she exclaimed, curling him back into her arms. "Don't cry, my dear. Don't cry." A nipple was brought to his waiting lips as, with one hand, she removed his diaper and began stroking the "ouchie" away again.

"Ouch!" Pria exclaimed, pretending her back had hurt as she bent down to pick up her basket.

"Are you alright, Ms. Mere?" Mr. Dace asked, offering a helping hand.

"Oh, I'm alright," she tried, but couldn't help but fail at not smiling. She pretended that her smile was meant to reassure him. "It's just the old bones playing ouchie again."

The man paused, before stammering. "Uh, yes. Hurts do come and go. Have a good evening, Ms. Mere. Good productivity." Pria watched as he hurried off.

She did that occasionally testing their words and trying to determine if what she saw was real.

A few days earlier, she praised Yusil for his continuous effort in supplying her with hot water for her home.

"You've finally taken on that giant responsibility," she had said.

"What?" His flare even startled his troop.

"Making sure we're getting heat way out here," Pria clarified. "Some may think it's a tiny thing, but it is a giant obligation."

Yusil stared at her. "Why are you saying 'giant'? And 'tiny'?"

Pria feigned innocence. "I don't understand," she said.

"I mean, why are you using those words in particular?" he asked.

She shrugged in response, hoping her nonverbal cue of innocence would come across as genuine. She had a feeling that she might have pushed it too far.

Softening her tone, she answered, "It's important to us, especially those far from the center. It will take time for the communal heat to reach us out here, and I understand that making this trip each day is a great burden on you."

Seeing him consider her words, Pria wanted so much to use the word 'giant' again--to make him squirm even more--but decided against it.

He continued to stare at her uneasily before turning away. "Uh. Thank you."

She didn't recall him ever giving her a positive word in his life!

"You're welcome," she murmured softly.

She wasn't entirely convinced that what the creature showed her was actually true--until she tested more villagers with words and watched their response. They all displayed the same reaction: shock, shame, and denial.

And as the weeks passed, turning dozens of scenes into hundreds, she finally reached the last scene: the First Villager's house--the leader of Highspire.

He stood in a barn, tying something up in a stall. A woman? No. A beast--a creature with chest of one udder and another a breast, cow's nose, and hooves, but its body was human--with a woman's large hips.

'You're not running away again," the leader said, obviously out of breath. "I've caught you, and you'll stay here."

A lecherous look filled his face as he stared at her breast and udder. He dove into them, sucking and squeezing, his mouth filling with sweet milk that sloshed down the sides of his face and soaked through his shirt.

The creature moo-ed.

Smacking his lips, he turned his attention to her backside and took his pleasure. Its moo-ing sent him into a frenzy as he plunged into her, his mouth spewing forth milk as he told her to settle down, while he buried himself between her enormous cheeks.

When he was all done, mimicking a wild moo from his own throat, he fell down exhausted onto the hay. Then, looking up expectantly, she shot out an egg while moo-ing. He smiled as he watched more eggs, before forcing himself back to his feet and gathering them into a basket.

"Good girl," he said, patting her backside. He untied her and lay her down on her back. "Be a good girl now."

He climbed on top of her and began sucking, his hard flesh finding its place to stroke himself inside her again as he enjoyed her milk.

She moo-ed.

Inside the house, the attic walls had turned into draping daps, as the floor created an open central ring surrounded by tiered seating. An audience sat with owl-shaped eyes gazing at what was presented before them.

Mrs. Elexa Ecub lay on an arch stool, her breast up in the air, and her bent legs spread wide as a shadow stood between them.

"Don't look at me!" she cried to the crowd, which only caused their eyes to grow larger.

"Ah, Elexa, Elexa, Elexa," the entity between her legs said, shaking its head. It was large and dark with no significant features except for a general outline of a man's shape.

"We all know why you're here," it continued.

"Please," she begged, "Let me go."

"Let her go?" it said, its voice filled with disbelief as if it were the most absurd request it had ever heard. "She wants us to let her go, knowing what she did."

The crowd hooted with laughter.

"Ah, Elexa," it intoned. "You knew that they cut down my tree, ate its fruit, and used its branches. Heck, you even decorated your house with my beautiful white flower bells."

"No," she denied. "No."

"But, Elexa, you did," it said, leaning in close to her. "You even suggested who should take the blame if things got out of hand! Poor little flower woman--you didn't even know her name. It's Pria Mere, by the way."

Pria was sure she raised her eyebrows at this revelation. Was that true? Did the First Villager's wife single her to take the fall?

"No," Mrs. Ecub said, "I didn't know what they did. I just said if it happened, that was what they should do. It was just an open theory statement--nothing factual."

The entity tapped Mrs. Ecub nose. "You don't have to lie to us, Elexa," it insisted. "You saw the pink insides of the tree yourself, and sat in comfort that the flower woman took the first bite of my delicious fruit--my fruit, which I could not eat accept from the rooted tree. My tree, whose songs I've listened to for longer than you can imagine. Of course, the flowers in your house can not ring. There voices are silent without a living tree.

"But," it sighed, extending its arms around him, "now I have songs that surpass those of the flower bells. My fruits give you vitality so that I may take what I need, and now I will never hunger. Your kind produces countless generations."

A toothless smile spread across its face as it hugged itself. "Your moans, screams, and wailings make me drunk from absorbing them all. And your tastes! Oh, your tastes! I can't get enough of the various flavors, in all the different ways, that you secrete such . . . deliciousness!"

The crowd responded with sounds of agreement; their heads nodded, a few even clapped.

"We didn't know," Mrs. Ecub pleaded. "We didn't know."

The creature threw back its head and bellowed with laughter, and the crowd joined in. "With all the planning and thoughtful research on how to get and cut my tree?" it chuckled. "Of course you didn't know, Elexa."

It slid a hand between her legs.

"Please!" she cried.

"Elexa likes massages, everyone," it said to the crowd. "And we know how to do it just right--something she never told her husband, who has been quite enjoying himself these past few nights, wrangling down domestics and such."

The crowd laughed and someone moo-ed in the audience.

It whispered in Elexa's ear, "I can't tell you the fancies he has, but then again, I think you already know--his amazing appetite while you nursed your children . . ." It clucked its tongue. "It disgusted you, didn't it? But as a dutiful wife, you did your duty. Even extorted wet nurses when you couldn't; had them running naked in your yard for him to catch." Its hand touched the place on her inner thigh that made her gasp. "You don't have to worry about that anymore. I take care of him--just like I'm going to take care of you."

The crowd applauded as their eyes grew so large they rubbed against each other.

"Get ready, Elexa. Here I come!"

Pria watched as Mrs. Ecub's head went back and a wail of pleasure escaped her strained neck. "Don't look at me!" she screamed, as the eyes reflected her nakedness as many hands touched her in places she had never spoken out loud--or refused to touch herself.

"Oh God! Oh god, oh god, oh god!"

The audience burst into applause as eyes swelled and diminished sporadically in the bleachers. The sound of popping popcorn filled the air.

Pria was yanked back to her cabin, the frantic creature pummeling inside her. It roared, filling the entire cabin with its voice and spilling out into the night's sky. Pria climaxed too, with all the sounds of Highspire filling her mind.

"Bad girl!"

"Oh, Mr. Wiskhoff"

"You're mine. You're mine!"

"Mommy! Mommy!"

"Tight. Little. Ass."

"Nana! I love you!"

"Don't move, don't move!"

"Baby's ouchie all gone."

"Moooooo!"

"Oh god, oh god, oh god!"

Pria screamed, and this time, she heard her voice mingled with the sounds of the voices of the village.

++ + +

The morning wasn't right. The trees surrounded them, but it didn't seem the same, and the flowers were too close to the border of wrong.

Realization exploded inside her as Pria gasped and clapped both hands over her mouth. Her basket dropped to the ground as she ran back to the village.

She didn't care about the disapproving faces as she rushed past and headed straight for the community building to ring the bell. The adults of Highspire arrived those designated to be among the first in line to receive orders when trouble arose. Suddenly, Pria found herself standing on the stage facing over two hundred villagers.

She didn't know what to say at first as hundreds of curious faces looked her way. Fear crept in as she stood before them.

"Ms. Mere?" Pria's eyes scanned the crowd. First Villager Mr. Ecub had spoken, wading his way to the front.

"Are you alright?" he asked

That was her cue. That was all she needed.

"No," she breathed, "nothing is right, and never will be again." Her eyes swept over the crowd. "Don't you feel it? Don't you see it? All around us nothing is right!"

Mr. Ecub looked at Pria and then at the crowd as he stepped onto the platform. He waved his hands to quiet the rising alarm.

"Now, now," he said, "we'll get to the bottom of this." He was going to sugar-coat this, Pria thought; blame it on her and have her killed. But that wasn't going to fix what has happened.

"Mooo!" she hissed at First Villager Ecub, causing his eyes to widen. That shut him up.

"We shouldn't have done what we did," she said, turning to the audience. "We shouldn't have cut that tree and eaten its fruit, because now we're facing the consequences."

The First Villager chuckled uncomfortably. "The tree was fine; its center was brown."

"It was pink!" Pria shouted. "And now the road is gone, and we're not where we should be."

And then she saw it the look in his eyes was a decision to have her taken away and killed.

"Ms. Mere " the First Villager began, but someone came running in, followed by more frightened faces.

"Erron!" A breathless face yelled. "We're surrounded by Erron!"

Pria turned an accusing gaze towards the First Villager. "It moved us." Her voice filled with contempt. "It took a few feet of Genu around us and pulled us into its territory. Now, we are a part of it. We're its tree now."

Voices rose, and the First Villager turned away from Pria, unable to calm the panic. A few villagers fled the building as word of what had happened began to spread like fire throughout Highspire.

Pria stepped down from the stage and sat on its edge as chaos filled the air.

Their voices will change tonight, she thought, at least, in some ways. The context will be different, but it will still sound like this.