The next several hours are awkward to say the least.

Ramona and I aren't talking to one another, but even though my guide is avoiding me, she also can't stop herself from groping me. We will be walking along and all of a sudden, she'll fall in along side me and put her hand on my ass. Or we'll be crouching behind a rock, checking to see if the area ahead is clear, and I'll notice she's no longer look at the terrain but sniffing my hair.

Aside from these invasions of personal space, she seems exceptionally thirst and keeps sipping from one of her many flask.

We eventually reach the end of the Fire Bog, and I admire the land that stretches out in front of us. Where the bog has been all trees and pools, this is open and flat. There are some marshy ponds choked with grass, but they're sparse, leaving wide swaths of dry ground. The landscape is dotted by tall white trees, tower hundreds of feet in the air. The trunks gleam like ivory and only the very tops have branches. They curl upward making the bright orange foliage cone-shaped. With all the space between them, they look like candles on a cake.

"The Mire Planes," Ramona says, stepping up behind me. These are her first words since our fight. "Those are Wraith Elms. Aren't they majestic?"

"That's an awful name, but they're actually quite beaut—"

Ramona rubs her groin against my ass, and I can feel her drool on the back of me neck.

"Eww!" I jump away from her. "What the hell is you're problem?"

"It's you. In my head, you're my mate now. All my body wants to do is fuck you until I pass out."

"Try and control yourself. We don't even like each other."

"I am trying," she cries, and she really sounds distraught about it. She holds up her flask. "I've already drank three days worth of my potion and it's not even midday."

"The slime jelly?" I ask.

"Yeah, I distill it down into a solution that helps me control my transformation. Without it, I change into the rougarou every time I get angry or scared. Or abnormally horny." She takes another swig.

"Abnormally horny? What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know how to explain it. Most of the time if I get turned on I can make a choice about what you want to do. Ignore it even. But every once in a while, I just need to get off, and I'll do anything to do it. Even if it's stupid."

"And I make you need to get off, as you put it?"

"So, fucking bad." She grinds her thighs together and drinks again. "God, at this rate, I'll finish the whole batch before we reach Lightning Rock."

What's going to happen when she runs out? I almost don't want to know but ask anyway. "Are you telling me that without the potion, you'd just be fucking me, for what...forever?"

"Of course not. Once you're pregnant, the urge will stop."

"Pregnant! You can get me pregnant? It's not even a real dick."

"The...um...dick part is complicated. Let's just say my biology when I'm in that form doesn't correspond to anything in the Upperworld and leave it at that." She's deathly embarrassed talking about this and for the moment she seems more ashamed than horny. "And I can't get you pregnant right now because you're just a cheap revenant—I mean, undead. But eventually, after enough sex, I'd turn you into a rougarou too. It wouldn't take long to plant my seed in you after that."

"But I don't want to be a werewolf. I'm trying to get out of the Underworld. I don't want to return to the land of the living as a monster."

Her eyes flair wide. "Rougarous aren't monsters! But that's beside the point, I have no interest in you becoming one of us either."

"Wait. We had a lot of sex yesterday. Exactly how much will turn me?"

She looks down at her feet. "Um. It's hard to say exactly. We don't usually mate with the undead. Someone once explained it to me that an undead mate goes through stages. First, they are resistant, then they get addicted to the sex, needing it for their very survival. Soon after that, they turn into thralls—basically mindless sex slaves. The thralls follow their mate around begging for sex and if they get enough of it they become rougarous. Only not normal. They have no human form just the wolf. They wander the swamps looking for new mates either pregnant or in heat." Then in a more cheerful voice she says, "But your litters would be normal like me."

"Ack! Litters!" As this terrible process sinks in, being mauled to death doesn't seem like such a bad option. "How long does that all take? Wait. No. What I really want to know is how long before I become addicted."

Ramona looks pensive as she the calculation in her head. "I'm really no expert. But considering you are already into the sex, maybe a week at most. Probably a few days. My guess is it would take a year for you to become a rougarou, and then another six months until you gave birth."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She's drinking that damn potion way to fast. She cannot run out of it.

"What if I help you out? Um...you know...relieve the pressure while you're human? I've gotten pretty good with my mouth."

"Gaaahhh!" She puts her hands over her ears, and runs around in a circle. "Why the hell did you say that? Did you think it would make me less horny? Gaaahhh!"

"Well fine! What do you suggest then? What is it you want to do?"

"I want to hold you down and fuck your hole until you beg for mercy and then fuck you some more. That's all I can see when I close my eyes." She starts guzzling down more potion.

"Wait! New plan," I say, trying to come up with a way so she doesn't drink all of it until I'm safe. "Point me toward Lightning Rock, and I'll head there and you can go back to Bianca's. Let's get as much distance between us as possible."

"Are you kidding?" she shrieks throwing her hands above her head. This is definitely a much more melodramatic Ramona than I'm used to. "My body needs to be near you. Even if I ran at top speed in the opposite direction, eventually I'd be overcome with desire and come after you. And even if I didn't know exactly where you were going, I can smell you for miles."

"Well, you certainly know what every girl likes to hear," I say sarcastically. Then in a more practical tone, I say, "So, if we can't split up and you're running out of potion, what the hell do we do?"

After several minutes of thinking and pacing, she says, "You're leaving the swamp, right?" I nod. "So, we pick up our pace and get you out of here as fast as we can."

"How does that change anything?"

"Each of the Lands of the Dead are separate realms. There's barriers between them that aren't just physical. It's why they're always fully enclosed, usually with only a handful of gateways in or out. They're almost worlds unto themselves. If we're each in different ones, it should be enough to keep me from tracking you. Especially since the Swamp is my natural habitat. Well, natural is the wrong word, but I'm not suited to the climate of other Lands."

"And you'll be alright with me gone?"

"Not really." she looks a bit despondent as she says, I'll likely have to spend a few weeks in wolf form to get the whole mate-thing out of my system. But if you're not around, I should get over it."

"Then, let's get going." I really can't feel too bad for her. Better to be a horny wolf for a couple of weeks, than to spend eternity as a mother-wolf.

 

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Ramona sets a hard pace, and we race across the Mire Planes, which is a shame because it's the nicest part of the swamp, I've been. But we cross through most of it in a blur, using the flat dry paths to our advantage. But before we get clear of it, Ramona has to stop. 

"I can't go on. I need some food and sleep," she says, supporting herself against the trunk of a Wraith Elm. "I'll keep it brief. Just a nap. But I have to get my strength back."

Being undead does have some advantages. I'm not nearly as quick as she is, but apparently I don't get exhausted. It's not fun, but fatigue and sore muscles never seems to get the better of me. I'm a little tired, but she's about to fall asleep on her feet. For the last couple of hours, it's actually been me who's had to slow down and wait for her to catch up.

Ramona eats some dried jerky from her pack and has another slug of the jelly potion, before curling up under her blanket.

I decide to get some sleep too. I really am not sure what my body's limitations are, but I don't want to test them until Ramona and the Swamp are far behind me. So, I will myself unconscious (something I've discovered I can do) and doze off with my back against the tree.

I'm woken by the sound of Ramona sniffing. She's taking great big snorts and mumbling, "So good. So good." It takes a second to realize she has her nose between my legs and almost in my pussy.

"Hey! What the hell or you doing?"

She looks up at me. "I'm really sorry."

"Just don't let it happen again," I say, before I realize that wasn't what she was apologizing for. 

Still, nestled between my thighs her body begins to stretch and expand and grow fur. I jump to my feet and run, but only get a few feet. She tackles me and climbs up my body until her rock hard member is pressed at my delta. Her paws hold my shoulders and her snout slobbers against my cheek.

"Hey, Ramona. How about a little foreplay, huh?"

But she's having none of that and enters me dry. "Yaaaaaa!" I yell as tears me open with her massive she-dick.

What follows is a replay of the day before, although with thankfully no anal. She seems determined to pump my womb full with as much cum as she can. After four go-arounds, it feels like she's unloaded a gallon into me. The ground round of is covered in it. The sticky puddle stretches out around us. She finally pulls out, and my vagina lets out another gush of her thick batter.

Rouragou-Ramona rolls on her back and breathes hard, finally satisfied. I'm panting too. She gave me a hell of a workout, and despite the pain of the first bit, once I loosened up and got a little lubed, I couldn't help getting into it. I must have orgasmed a dozen times. I never expected to say it, but I could get used to this.

I sit up bolt-straight.

I cannot get used to this!

It's messing with my head. But it must just be the pleasure. It's too soon for the addiction to start. Right? I just like cumming. I don't need her girl-cock. It doesn't matter how cute it looks laying against her furry belly. I rub my hand over its shaft and it twitches, almost as though trying to escape. So, I take hold of it, to keep it from straying. Damn! It's big! I can't even wrap my fingers around it. And it only grows as I stroke it into life. 

Before I can think too much about what I'm doing, I climb up on top of her. I press her tip against my entrance, and crouch down impaling myself on her. I ride her leaning forward, supporting myself with my hands on her little boobs. I can't take her whole length, but I slide up and down every inch that I can accommodate. The wolf whimpers beneath me. 

I drop down on her, slamming her tip into my cervix. She makes a sound like: "Aaaaarrrr."

"What's that? A little tender, are you? Well toughen up, because I'm not done with you yet, bitch." 

This new sense of power is heady. After spending an hour or two face down getting pounded, it feels euphoric to take control. I speed up. She's too tired to do more than look up at me with big glassy eyes. "You're my bitch now, Ramona," I say, grinding her into me. I'm so sensitive it isn't taking me long to reach climax. I tell her, "Come on. Be a good doggie. Cum for me."

I tweak her nipples and tighten the muscles in my pussy. She lets out the most pathetic howl I've ever heard and shoots a weak trickle of her steaming hot fluid into me. She's milked almost dry, but it's enough to set me off, and I gush down her rod and squirt onto her belly and chest, soaking her fur.

Ramona whimpers and turns back into human. As she shrinks, I'm lowered down against her pelvis, and I wrap myself around her. When my face is in front of hers, she says, "You filthy slut. God, I love you!" And kisses me.

 

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We sleep some more before getting going.

In the morning, we're both so sloppy, we bathe in one of the ponds. The water is cold and brackish, but it's better than trying to clean up the both of us with magic. The Fix-it spell can only do a little at a time, but after a few minutes of splashing around, we're ready to go.

The marathon session seems to have calmed her down a bit, and she only takes a small swig of the potion before we set off for Lightning Rock.

I can see it now on the horizon. It looks like a slightly askew cube. One corner sticks up giving it a peak. Bolts of lighting shoot into it. Or out of it. It's hard to tell from this distance. But electricity constantly dances across it's flat top, and there's no need to guess how it got it's name.

As we journey closer to it, the ground gets both rockier and muddier. We're often slowed because the only path through a field of black sludge is a broken ridge of uneven stone. We scrabble over these spines of rock sometimes on all fours to keep our balance. It's exhausting work, I'm almost delirious when the whole swamp abruptly stops, cut of by a chasm. It isn't wide, but it stretches out in either direction as far as the eye can see. The only way across is a wooden bridge with no railing. A shrouded figure stands on it at the mid-point.

From the hem of her dress, which brushes the wooden slats at her feet, to the veil draped over her head, the woman is covered all in black lace. She holds a sturdy staff defensively in front of her, and calls out to us, "Halt!"

"Shit!" Ramona says in my ear. "I was afraid of this."

"What?" I whisper back.

"The bridge was left empty for too long. Someone new has decided to play the role of gatekeeper."

"What does that mean?"

"It means this crazy bitch will demand something from us. Jewels. Valuables. The clothes off our backs. Maybe even an answer to a stupid riddle. If we don't give it to her, she won't let us use the bridge."

"And if we just try and cross?"

"You see how flimsy it is. It doesn't take much to knock someone off."

I swallow hard and step forward, scared to ask what this strange woman wants from us.