Chapter 32: TWO NIGHTS HENCE – Something is being Understood
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After the Assault on Castle Vesh, Ravinical promised Rutt that her vagina could offer him an experience he had never known.

He bade her come to the Levers’ farm three nights hence.

This is still two nights hence.

The Careworn Dairy Farmer has found forgiveness for raping his dead wife's pregnant teats.

The Futa Catgirl has failed to take her sister's pussy-virginity.

The Minotaur has found a sunburned fairy in a jam jar.

These nights have been eventful. And this night is young. 

"Joanna, right?" said the Minotaur to the fairy. 

"Yeah. Hi, Rutt."

She had been easy to recognise. Even with a fourth-degree sunburn, transformed into a fairy, and buried up to her neck in a jam jar full of goosefat and rosewater, Joanna Bolliger's jejune features and nerdy glasses distinguished her.

He had been easy to recognise. He was a minotaur.

"You, uh, okay in there?" he asked. He had not been rummaging through the kitchen's shelves to find a fairy in a jar. He'd been looking for fishing hooks. But once they'd made eye contact then they kind of had to acknowledge each other.

"Bit bored," Joanna confessed. Tatiana and Nikki hadn't been ignoring her for the day-and-a-half she'd been wallowing. They'd been checking in. But they had a lot of their own stuff going on, so most of the time Fairy Jo was alone in her jar.

Screams and wails forced their way up through the floorboards. The horrifying soundtrack to the horrifying deeds being committed in the cellar was insisting on being heard in the kitchen above. 

Joanna thought about asking the minotaur about the screams. Though she had a feeling she wouldn't like the answer. Perhaps she'd work up to asking about that.

Rutt, however, was not given to containing his own curiosities. 

"You pissing and shitting in there? Or climbing out when you need to squat?" 

"Uh. Wow. Um. I guess I haven't needed to do either yet. Maybe fairies don't have excretory systems like that?"

"You don't know?"

"No," said Joanna. Who'd have blushed if her the skin on her cheeks wasn't dead from UV damage. Not because she was embarrassed talking about scatological matters - she was a country girl, after all - but because she was strangely ashamed about how little she knew about fairies despite being one. It gave her a kind of imposter syndrome. She felt a little fake.

"You don't know?"

"No."

"You don't know if your own besthole drops turds?" Rutt had picked up the jar and was scrutinising it from different angles. There was not much to see in there except the highly viscous fat/rosewater concoction and a few different sides of the fairy's head. Joanna suspected Rutt was just conducting this little examination to make her uncomfortable.

"Mister Minotaur, are you perhaps bullying me?" she bravely asked.

"Heh. Yeah, a little." He dropped the jar suddenly. Then caught it in his other hand. "But I am a bit curious. I've always been a Minotaur and always understood my body pretty good. I know how it works and I know what it's for. This house is full of folks who aren't that way. Downstairs there's our mutual girlfriend, who don't really understand the vulnerability of girlies' bodies or the power of her teats. Upstairs there's a fresh minted catgirl who don't understand how to reliably cast spells with her shoulder tentacles. And then there's you. Lot of folks in this house who don't get their own bodies."

All Joanna really heard in all that was "downstairs there's our mutual girlfriend." Tatiana was down in the cellar. Where the screams were coming from.

But still she wasn't ready to ask.

"I've had nothing to tell me about fairy anatomy," she explained, "The three books I...obtained... they didn't cover it. One was just the spell to turn into one. Another was just mean lies about how we're all intrinsically and inescapably cruel and tricksy. And the other was just porn."

Rutt had put the jar back on the shelves. On a higher shelf than it had been, so that the two were at eye level.

"Porn, huh? That can be pretty anatomical."

"I guess. But this was just dumb. Just pictures of full-size human men fucking tiny fairies. Nothing that'd really be possible." 

The Minotaur chuckled and grabbed his dick.

"Sounds like my problem!" he said.

"Problem?" asked Joanna. She'd never heard Rutt talk about his massive wanger as one of his problems before. Usually he was too busy making it everyone else's problem.

Rutt took a moment to think.

"Can I trust you?" he asked.

"Don't you read? I'm intrinsically and inescapably cruel and tricksy."

"Yeah. Don't think so. Think I can trust you. And yeah, maybe my dick is a problem. Don't get me wrong - I fucking love this nasty thing - but the night I attacked the Vampire Castle, one of those bloodgluggers said something that set me wondering."

This conversation was going places Joanna hadn't expected.

"Say, you wanna go for a walk? You gotta be getting bored of the view from that shelf, right?"

"You offering to carry my jar?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not? I need some air. And it'd be easier to talk away from all that fucking screaming."

"About that?" Joanna had found the courage.

"Oh yeah. That's Tatiana and my dryad. Tatty's traumatised from the time I used coercive control techniques to force her to participate in Peartree's rape. So I've done it again to help her get over it."

"Tatty?"

"Yeah. Tatty. Our girlfriend. You know the bitch. Nice hair. Huge tits. She's pretty fucked up from having raped Peartree before. So fucked up that her cunt seizes up shut when she tries to take her sister's new futa cock. Basic psychology."

The screams seemed louder now Joanna knew what they were.

"So I've shut Tatty and the dryad up together in the cellar," Rutt continued to explain. "And I've gone into the dryad's User Settings - you know she's totally bound to my will, right? - and made her pretty easy and fun to rape. Then I've given Tatiana a strap-on and told her to get to it."

"You're... you're helping our mutual girlfriend get over the trauma of having been forced to commit a rape by... forcing her to commit a rape?"

"Forcing her to commit a whole lot of fuckin' rapes," Rutt clarified, "She's gonna be down there ploughing the dryad all fucking night. Raping her over and over again until she learns to stop being such a pussy and enjoy doing it. That's why I'm looking for fishing hooks. Thought it might liven things up a little to attach a few to the strap-on."

"We want very different things from our relationship with that girl."

They agreed to go for a walk.


Spetlamu is a small village, laid out around its obvious shared public spaces. The church, the green, the tavern, the pond, the boneyard. Any route you plot for a walk around Spetlamu will take you past or to one of those locations. 

Rutt and Joanna's walk took them to the Tavern. The Willowish Grinigog. Her home.

"You wanna go in?" the Minotaur asked, "Pick up any of your stuff?"

Jo thought she could probably use a few comforting objects from her room to arrange around the jam jar. Her favourite dollies. Her grandmother's broach. Her diary maybe (She could dictate to Nikki... she was pretty sure Nikki was literate). Although she didn't understand how fey bodies healed, she expected it'd be another couple of days at least before she was out of the fatty jar. Another couple of days sat, mostly alone, on the shelf in the Lever family's kitchen. Having a few homely little trinkets scattered around her would feel pretty good. 

"I don't know," she said.

"Not ready to talk to your family, right?" guessed Rutt, "Being a charred scrap of flesh in a prison of gloop isn't how you wanna let them know you've become a fairy, right?" 

He was right. This was not the debut she wanted her new state of being to make in the village.

She wanted to reveal herself as a fairy in a shower of petals and sparkles and glitter and magic. Not as a morbid, sickly ruin covered in stinky unguent and sloughing flesh. 

"Not gonna be a problem," said the Minotaur.

He wedged the jam jar between his buttocks and walked into the Tavern.

The Grin's clientele fell silent.

Rutt matched their silence, and silently walked up the staircase to Joanna's room. Unchallenged.

He removed the jar from his ass, placed it on her bedside table, sat on her bed and broke it.

"See. No problem," he said.

Joanna's room felt strange to her, seeing it for the first time from a fairy's tiny perspective. She had no emotional reaction to Rutt's weight snapping her bed. As soon as she'd looked at the place, the room where she'd grown up, she knew it was no longer hers. She would never see the space again as it looked to a full-sized human girlie. She would only see it as it looked to someone six-inches tall. It was a different space. A different room. Her room was gone. 

"No problem," repeated Joanna. No problem. "Hey...earlier... you were talking about your dick?"

"It comes up a lot, yeah."

"Yeah, but like...you were saying it was a problem?"

Rutt sighed.

"Been a problem for a lot of cunts, this monster. Splits in two any girlie I try and fuck with it. And that's never been a problem for me, y'know? Problem for the cunts, but not for me. It's kinda funny watching a bitch get torn in two by your titanic johnson, and hey, I get to cum even if the bitch is haemorrhaging to death in a smashed up puddle of blood and semen, so what's the problem, right?"

This was not the sort of girly confessional girltalk Joanna's bedroom had ever seen before. Nevertheless, she nodded briskly to keep the conversation moving forward.

"Only a couple of things got me wondering," the Minotaur continued. "The Milkmaid. Our girlie. She's a special girlie. I think I kinda... I think I kind of love the slut, y'know?"

"I do know," said the fairy, "I love her too."

"Sure you do. But that's normal for little teen girly dykes like you. You cutesy cunts fall in love all the time. No disrespect. That's just what's normal for you. But for me this is different. This is special. I ain't been in love since my wife left me."

"You want your dick inside her, don't you?" 

"Yeah," admitted Rutt. "I wanna be in her so bad. I love her and I wanna be deep inside her. But I don't wanna kill her. I fucking love the dumb big-titty bitch and I wanna fuck her and I want her to survive it and I wanna fuck her again. It's like the vampire slut said."

Joanna was a bit lost here. This was a piece of the puzzle she was missing. Which vampire slut? And what had she said?


Two Nights Earlier 

Rutt had been thrown from the battlements of Castle Vesh into its murky moat.

Wounded and drowning, he had struggled to the banks, only to be confronted by the heterosexual vampiress Ravincal Vesh showing off her average-looking pussy and delivering a weird speech about how great it was. It really wasn't that great.

"What do you think about my cunt?" she had asked the barely conscious hero.

He'd said something dismissive.

She had not felt dismissed. 

Instead she had walked right up to him, her confidence growing.

Okay, so he'd said he'd had better pussy. But she had a killer counter argument. 

"Well, that's the thing, isn't it, Mister Minotaur?" she had cooed seductively, "That's the single most exciting feature of my vag. It can offer you an experience you've never had before."

Then she whispered its secret in his bovine ear.

"You can fuck this pussy twice."

Rutt's bleary eyes had bulged wide.

"Think about it," Ravinical had huskily encouraged him, "You know you can't kill me. You've tried. This is vampire gash. Vampire gash from the most profane of unholy bloodlines. Nothing you can do will end me. You can fuck my nasty cunt as hard as you like and watch me come back begging for more. Again and again. Desperate to give myself repeatedly to your cock."     

Rutt had understood that this was different. That it was different in the most important of ways even from what Peartree's vag could offer. He could fuck his dryad slave's physical projection to death and then summon up another iteration of it to fuck to death all over again. But this wasn't that. This was something new. This was something his killer willy had always denied him.

This was the promise of an ongoing, consensual, sexual relationship.

It was something Rutt wanted to try. It was something that had been on his mind. He ideally wanted it with Tatiana, not with this ridiculous heterosexual vampiress, but he wanted to try it enough that he knew he had to take advantage of this undead quim. He had to take the opportunity.  

"Meet me three nights hence," he had bade her, "Meet me at midnight in the Lever family's barn. And bring your vagina." 


Two Nights Hence

"So...tomorrow night?" Joanna asked, "Tomorrow night, you've invited one of the vampires to Tatiana's farm? So you can fuck her?" 

"Repeatedly. Gonna fire load after load into that bitch. And gonna be thinking of our sweet gf the whole time."

"Then I guess your problem is solved."

"I guess. Still wish it was Tatty's cunt though. You thought about how you two are gonna lez up now you're six-inches tall?"

"Got a few ideas," Joanna admitted, "But to be honest, I've not been feeling really sexy while I've been stuck in this jar. So I've not been thinking about it too much."

The Minotaur laughed.

"So you've not even been rubbing your clitty while you're in there? No wonder you're bored."

Joanna smiled. She was starting to understand this guy. He wasn't all that complicated, he was just more complicated than you'd expect, and sometimes that took her by surprise. She wasn't sure she could ever see herself really liking Rutt, but she could could see herself growing to understand his perspectives and his behaviours enough to make this work. Both of them clearly wanted to be Tatiana's lovers for the long haul and, hey, maybe that could work.

"You wanna bring back your book of fairy porn?" he asked, "Maybe flick your bean over that? Get a few ideas?"

Sure, why not?

"Yeah, go on. 'Fey Blessings.' It's on the desk over there."

The Minotaur picked up the book.

It was as described. Roughly two hundred pages of illustrations of human men fucking fairies.

The Minotaur gasped.

"You stupid cunt," he growled.

The atmosphere in the room had changed. Joanna didn't know why.

"What?" she said.

"You stupid, stupid little fucking cunt," said the Minotaur. 

"What? What?" She was getting worried. Maybe she couldn't understand Rutt. He was angry about something, obviously, but there were other emotions she couldn't read. What about the book was agitating him so?

"You think this is porn?"

"Well, not exactly my kind of porn. It's just pics of guys sticking their dicks up fairies. I'm about seventy percent lesbian so I'm not that interested in guys sticking their dicks up anything."

"This is a spellbook," the Minotaur explained. "This is fairy magic. These are the Blessings of the Fey. This book is a guide to the enchantments a fairy can use to magically allow an impossibly big dick to fit inside an impossible small minge."

Oh.

Oh.

She'd had this the whole time.

"This," the Minotaur said, "changes everything."

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