It was late evening; the ocean sparkled orange and the clouds cast shadows all around me. Still in the waters, I realized that ... I wasn’t entirely sure what was in store for me on this island. The name of "Gulversport," along with the motifs of the first two places I'd been, had keyed me into the story I was living out.

Unfortunately, I had speed-read the second two sections of "Gulliver's Travels" in highschool; so my memories of the latter half were foggy at best. I was pretty sure the protagonist hadn’t died in the end … but still … where were a good set of porn-themed cliffnotes when I needed them?

Eventually, I made it to shore.

The expansive island I arrived on was visibly tamed, even at a glance. Any forests or jungles that might once have existed had been replaced by grazing lands as far as the eye could see. The only exception was a rural town in the distance. It reminded me of the farmlands that surrounded the University. And, just like there, smoothened dirt roads with wagon tracks lined the way.

I went along the closest of these roads to walk toward the town. There were no gates indicating any private land, so I was able to just take in my surroundings. The fields looked immaculately clean, and the barns in the center of each meant that the animals here had a place to keep dry and warm.

Of course, I still had no idea what sort of animals they kept in these lands. I saw no cattle guards. But the edges of each soft grass field were lined with about ten feet of what looked like bent pieces of metal. Most farm animals I knew of would have had no issue walking over it ... but I did suddenly wish I had brought shoes.

I continued my venture as the sky grew darker, my only light from the stars. I told myself that this was for the best. After all, I needed to do some proper spying before I introduced myself.

I knew I’d been lucky on the previous islands–being giant, finding a human willing to help me, meeting a friendly face upon first being stranded on the Arch. But I didn’t want to tempt fate … well, at least not for a fourth time.

Nearly an hour later, I reached the small town I’d seen in the distance. The architecture reminded me of older German towns, but the layout was straight out of an old western. There was a single major road down the center of the town, with various small buildings on either side. Completing the scene were water troughs and hitching posts at every large building.

It all gave me an odd sense of nostalgia ... reminding me of the old films I’d watched with my pawpaw. Kavtagro's crusty lasso, I really was Southern. And being out in the country wasn't helping matters.

By this late hour, most of the lights were out. But I did see one place still alight and with an open door. Maybe some kind of ... saloon?

I crept silently until I reached a window. Sure enough, the inside did appear to be a sort of gathering place where drinks were served. Instead of tables or a bar, however, there was a long table at which many hulking beings sat–drinking, eating, and talking raucously.

So far, it all seemed to be pleasant and good-natured. A solid sign that I could safely introduce myself and ask to trade. Still, I wanted to watch just a little longer.

It took me a moment to realize that the people here were minotaurs–enormous bipedal beings with the extremities of bulls and the torsos of particularly burly elves. I’d met several of them during my time on the continent. They stood about eight feet tall on average and came in about as many colors and patterns as cows did.

It came as a relief to me that these were a friendly people who I was already acquainted with. Well ... more than that. On more than one occasion, I'd had to convince other races that I was not a half-minotaur–given my patterning, horns, and tail. But maybe our similarities would help me here.

I stepped into the building, trying not to draw too much attention to myself all at once.

Immediately, however, the femme minotaur who seemed to be running the establishment noticed me. She put one of her massive, furred, two-fingered hands to her mouth and rose her voice loud enough to drown out the rest of them. “Who on earth thought this would be funny?”

While the minotaur's rage did not seem to be directed at me, her raised voice made me freeze in place.

The closest minotaur to me was far quicker to react. Before I could even think, she stood and grabbed me–picking me up literally off my feet.

“Careful that she doesn’t bite you, Xania,” the first minotaur said, as I tried to pull away from her. “She could be one of those vicious little monsters from Hask.”

The minotaur holding me was two steps ahead. Just as I tried to form words, she was placing something in my mouth. Two wooden pegs, wedged over my top and bottom teeth–keeping my mouth forced open but with a gap. I tried to fight the anti-biting device, but found that the hinge gave just enough to make it immovable.

With nothing else left to do, I thrashed against my captor–trying to catch her with my horns. Not to gore, but just pry myself out of her grip long enough to communicate that there was clearly some misunderstanding here.

“Grab my bag,” the minotaur named Xania said to someone I couldn’t see.

This was going too far!

I began to harness the magic that Namali had taught me. I felt the pressure of the bubble in my head begin to expand. I could hear the items on the walls and shelves begin to rattle from my power. But, just before I could release it and throw the minotaurs to the far corners of the room, something was pulled over my eyes!

“Sh… there, there, girl,” Xania said, as she began to stroke my hair. “Nobody’s going to hurt you. Somebody played a nasty trick; it’s no wonder you’re so upset.”

“What the hell!” said the barkeep, her voice still raised but now sounding somewhat scared by what I'd done with my magic. “There's something seriously wrong with that animal!”

Animal?

“Probably the Gusek boys,” said a deep-voiced minotaur. “You know how they like their pranks.”

“I ... don't think so,” Xania said, sounding as confused as what I felt. But without a moment more of hesitation, she began to remove my top and skirt.

What the fuck?

“Dressed her up ... gave her ... something," Xania said, like my clothes had been some form of cruelty. "They even glued horns and a tail to her. This would have taken a lot of work. I don't think the Gusek brothers would have the patience for all this.”

“Reckon we ought to pull those off her?” the deep-voiced minotaur asked.

Then I felt a hand on my tail.

At this, I truly reacted like my life depended on it. The walls began to rattle and I let off a blind shot at random. Then, for a moment, I was free!

I grabbed my tail so nobody would try to pull it off and ran. With my face covered, however, I had no way to see the post that clocked me squarely between the eyes.

Immediately, all energy and sense left me. I went down like a sack of potatoes, my eyes watering. Seconds later, I felt myself being held down again. If ... a bit more gently this time.

“Don’t touch her tail again!” Xania said, her tone full of scorn. “Whoever put this on … it’s really on. It’s moving on its own, just like a person’s!”

“You don’t think it was one of those perverted sorcerers that did this to her?” asked the barkeep. “Snuck onto the island to play some of their weird-o magic tricks? Give our animals tails and ... their disgusting powers!”

“That’s … the closest thing I can figure,” Xania said, like it was the saddest thing she'd ever seen.

I tried to mumble that I was a person, but it was of course just garbled in the gag.

“Aww, poor thing’s crying,” Xania said, soothing my hair again. “She’s had a rough time. We need to figure out what we’re going to do with her.”

“You know ... if anyone brought a sorcerer here ... it was probably Hask Farms,” said the deep-voiced minotaur.

There was that name again, Hask Farms. But I had no idea what any of it had to do with me.

“All she did was throw us,” Xania replied, sounding disgusted at the assertion. “Guggles from Hask Farm would have been bitin’, ragin’, and all else.”

“Even so,” the deep-voiced one countered. “Anyone from 'round here would’ve reported a missing Guggle on the town board. You know the law. If an animal ain’t been reported, it always goes back to Hask Farm. Just like you know what happens to anyone who gets caught with one of their patented breeds. I, for one, don’t want to be sued out of my farm for copyright infringement.”

I shook my head, even as it throbbed. Practically begging them to just take all this shit off me so that I could just speak! But it was no use.

“But …” Xania began to say. "She ain't like them. If we give her back to Hask, their other animals will eat her alive."

A bolt of fear ran through me.

“We all know it's messed up, Xania,” the barkeep said. “But nobody ’round here can afford to lose their farms—least of all you. If you really don’t think it’s theirs, you can bring it up with the town hall and force a records check. But until then, we’re all obliged to take her back .Before ... they come and get her.”

This stopped the conversation in its tracks, and Xania sighed heavily.

I s tried to shout protests through my open gag. But nothing intelligible came out. Suddenly, I felt a piece of leather over my wrists and ankles. Each were pulled tight, and I felt myself being lifted onto someone’s shoulder.

Even as they carried me, I continued to try to protest, hoping some, anything resembling communication would be heard. I didn’t stop until we entered some ... noisy structure that smelled oddly sterile.

“Ah, another escapee,” said a voice I didn’t recognize.

“I don't think she is,” Xania replied, clear resentment in her tone. “I’m going to pursue a records check. So please keep track of her. And don’t mess with the attachments on her. She's really sensitive about them.”

“Ma’am, please don’t tell me how to do my job,” the other replied with subdued irritation. “You may have your ways in your … quaint … little farms. But we at Hask Farm also take pride in our methods. Do what you like. Till then, we’ll treat her with the same excellent care as we do with all our animals.”

I was lowered onto my feet. Before I could move, I felt someone touch my collar.

The one Daava had given me.

In an instinctive fury, I crouched and kicked. With nearly any other species, it would have been enough to knock them off their feet. However, my leg just met muscle and fur that did not give.

Then I felt a firm hand around the back of my neck. I shouted in a mix of anger and devastation, as my collar was taken. Replaced by a heavy leather one. I continued uselessly to try to pull away as Namali’s nose-ring was then also pulled free.

I dropped to the ground, feeling around for my collar and ring. Until I felt a heavy tug from whatever leash had been fastened to me. I was forced to step forward … into this unknown place.

Suddenly, there was no rage, no sorrow, just … shock ... as I disappeared into a world of noise.

It took a moment to get my mind to start working again. When I was able, it sounded almost like hundreds of people speaking a different language. But … weren't all languages in this world magically translated? This language-like babbling ... it could only be that. Some kind of parrot or something doing vocal mimicry.

“No telling where this thing has been wandering,” said the individual pulling me along. He was clearly speaking to another minotaur. “The town thinks a sorcerer welded the horns and tail on. Like a prank or something.”

"Doesn't stink as badly as the others," the other minotaur replied. "Still, best run it through the brushes. Don't want it tracking in any disease off the road."

Feeling solid objects ahead of me, I was hesitant to move forward. But the insistence of the leash was impossible to fight. Soon, my face and front were plunged into soft, wet material. It was a kind of … padded, narrow tunnel.

Like a person-sized carwash, I was soaped, rinsed, and finally led through a blow-dryer.

“Hm … you ain’t fightin' much,” the individual said, sounding a bit perplexed and maybe even a bit disappointed. “Not to worry, being back with the others will bring out the proper spirit.”

I clenched my jaw and took a deep breath. I was scared, even devastated by the loss of my belongings. But ... I was still trying to focus. To remember what Qasven had taught me ... about making fear, restriction, and even pain into my power.

I ... still needed to complete my mission.

It was an odd feeling, one I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with. Except to wait and figure everything out once I had a better idea what was going on.

Finally, I was led into a last space with soft hay on the ground. Here, my leash was pulled downward until I found myself laying on my front onto a padded bed.

I immediately felt two holes for my breasts. A loop was fastened around my neck and additional ones around my ankles. My arms were left bound behind me. Then I felt a familiar glass tube against each of my nipples.

This was a dairy! Whatever the "guggles" were, the minotaur raised them for milk! Which ... at least meant that I wasn't getting butchered for meat or leather. So I settled into the device, so that I could rest and gather my strength.

“Not fighting this neither?” the minotaur said, sounding confused as ever. “Maybe this new-fangled dwarven technology from the mainland ain’t as big a waste of money as I thought.”

Dwarves? The mainland? Did that mean that this island was actually in contact with the continent ?

That meant … that meant that we were close. Even if the crew couldn't find me, and had to sail on, I might be able to sneak aboard a trading vessel or something to get home! At least ... after I managed to get back my collar and septum ring.

For now, however, I knew I had to bide my time. And … my breasts had been a bit on the full side anyways. So I let the machine do its job and gradually drifted off.