There’s a saying that a child not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel the warmth. Today, I can’t understand that saying. My tent, made of patch-leather and scraps of cloth, hoisted over a limp tree branch just outside the gates of the village, is on fire. Months of work destroyed by a single bit of magic.

Two boys stare at me and laugh. They’re younger than me, but they have parents, people who care about them, people that will teach them magic so that they can live. I don’t have that. When I try to walk close to the tent, they don’t even let me feel the warmth of the fire, despite the chill wind that blows in from the sea. I’m too weak to even fight them. I don’t remember the last time I had a good meal.

I’m not a monster, yet they treat me like one. They treat me like demons or sirens, like a creature to be hurt and hindered. I walk into town. Any possessions I did have went up in flames with my home. It’s a horrid mile to the village, where I will beg for scraps of food or, if I’m very lucky, a coin or two. Halfway there, and I start to feel somewhat hopeful.

It’s like a new start. The old tent was battered, and barely covered me from the elements anyway. This time, I can build it better, stronger, find a thicker tree, hide it smarter.

My hope is dashed away by the rain. Horrendous, cold, slimy rain that soaks me to my bones in a few seconds. My cloth covering becomes a heavy weight rather than a comforting constant. Still, I walk. I know if I get to the village just after dinner, the people there may give me the scraps of their food rather than the village dogs.

To have to compete with dogs to live. Maybe I am a monster. I put my wet, cold hands on my face, feeling for scales, or slime. My hands touch my skull. No horns, head shaped like just another human. No breathing of fire. I roll my shoulders, feeling no wings sprouting from my back. I stomp my feet, and it hurts, no hooves to be found.

No, I’m human. I see the two boys running back to the village, trying to outrace the rain. I almost smile. Been there, tried that. The rain always wins. I get to the first house, and all I want to do is sit down, but if I sit here, I won’t get food. Instead, I go to the market square, and sit next to a house that slightly overruns, giving me a tiny shield against the rain.

I cup my hands, looking people in the eye as they go. I knew this would happen. Nobody wants to stop, even for a second, in the rain. They see something in me, some evil presence, and they weigh the goodness of their hearts against the inconvenience of the weather. The rain always wins.

Nobody stops. I don’t even get so much as an apple, despite being next to two separate fruit stores. People don’t even buy an orange and tell the shopkeeper to give it to me. I’m not even worth the price of a piece of fruit and a few words. I see some people eating bread and meats and soups in their houses, and I stand near the windows to beg before they shout at me and send fear running through my heart. Soldiers pass by, and I look up at them, hoping one of them would take me in, let me even be a soldier, so long as I live.

But I’m weak, I’m scrawny, I’m cold and I’m sick. Their boots splash in the puddles near me, and now I’m dirty as well as soaked. I think it’s time to stop. I think it’s time to give in to the weakness, to the gnawing pain in my chest that eats away at me every day. I think it’s time to die.

So I stand, and I find a back alley where I know dogs frequent. At least then, they will get a meal. It’s almost comforting, knowing that there was something I did right. I died correctly, as everyone wanted me to. I lie down in the rain, and it splatters my face. Two dogs that know me come and lick me, a friendly gesture, but one that will quickly become perfectly natural when the reaper takes me.

My eyes shut as I stop resisting. I stop letting myself be dragged by my hunger, I let the tiredness, the weakness force me to stop moving, and I end peacefully.

A feeling of warmth glows through me, and I open my eyes to a beautiful yellow light that slowly fades away. The last thing I see before succumbing to the warmth is thick, red scaled thighs bunched up from a crouched women. Her amber eyes look at me with sorrow and pity, and then she’s gone, as is everything else.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

I wake up, something I had not expected. No rain pours on my face. My stomach doesn’t growl angrily, and my tiredness feels foreign. I’m feverishly warm, but there’s something wet on my head, cooling me. I put my hand up to touch it, and it’s soft and round, yet incredibly cool, sucking the warmth from my hand. I press on it, and my hand goes inside whatever it is. I feel around, until I hear a small sound, and I try to turn to see what it was.

There’s nothing there, only a small blacked ring window above the bed with wet lines on the wall going up. Did someone put water on me? I pull off the blankets, far too warm for them, and try and stand. Where am I? How did I get here?

I look around the room. On the right is two, massive windows that stream in light. A wooden desk sits next to large wardrobe, and a smelling candle is lit, making the room smell like freshly picked berries. On the left, two drawers sit either side of a large, wooden door. The entire room is made from a wood that seems to almost glow in the sunshine from the windows. I get out of the black and white bed, nearly tripping over the patterned rug, and put my hand on the window, looking out.

I’m far above the village. From here I can see the dock, and the entire market square. I must be up in hills… but how? Oh no… did I sneak into a lord’s manor? My heart sinks. If he finds me… I’ll be executed publicly. I look down and realize I’m completely naked. I look around for some clothes, but the act of moving my head causes me nausea, and I flop back down onto the bed.

I remember… a women. A red women… and light, yellow light. A voice, so soft I barely realize I hear it, speaks from somewhere above me. “Please, let help?”

I turn to look at the voice. It’s a girl, hanging half out of the ring-window above the bed. Her body is half-molded into the window, but she doesn’t look in pain. She’s purple, and her skin moves on its own. She slivers down the wall like slime, leaving a trail of slight wetness to the wall. She’s also completely naked, and her boobs are thick and on display… I’ve never seen a girl naked before, so I look away, but my voice doesn’t come out when I try to speak.

She moves up to me, and I flatten to the bed to escape, then push away so my head touches the bottom wooden board of the bed. She comes over me, shielding me from the sunlight. She’s bigger than me, and even though our feet are equal on the bed, I barely come up to her breasts. “Please, let help.” She says, and before I can even try to respond, she puts a hand on my head. Her bare nipples hand above me, and my heart beats wildly.

Instantly, it’s so much cooler, so much so that the rest of my body feels like it’s on fire in comparison. “You still warm? I help…” At first, I’m not sure what more she could do, but she falls on me, enveloping me inside her, her body molding around me, shaping to my own. I can’t breath, there’s no air, so I hold my breath until my lungs burn, then I try to suck in some. Slime fills my nostrils, but she speaks something I can’t possibly hear and then I have an airway.

Inside, it’s translucent, and I can see the room through a hazy, purple view. I want to thank her, and when I open my mouth to speak, her body parts to let me. “Thank… you…” I croak out.

She giggles, and the feeling of it shakes her entire body. What would be her abdomen rubs against my groin, and I feel blood pumping. Not a good time, dick! I’ve never even touched a women… and now I’m inside one, monster or not… and it feels good. As my hard-on grows, it pushes against her skin, until it pops out. “What.. This” I hear, and then she giggles again. My dick flexes involuntarily. “It just like master’s… hmm…” she says, then she shifts so she covers it.

A few seconds later, I feel something rubbing against it, but I can barely see. Then, it enters something, and I feel my head rub against folds as she moves my penis in and out. I’m not moving an inch, not even my hips, but she is pulling on my dick and then pressing down, morphing part of her body into something that feels really good to enter. I can barely see, but there’s something formed around my penis that's moving on it’s own as I get harder and harder.

The door opens, and I hear another voice, thicker and harder. “What the hell, Camilla? Where’s the boy?” she says with a raised voice. The skin around me turns opaque, and I expect to be ejected but instead the girl flips so that my penis is face down to the bed. “I do not know. He ran away…” she says, all the while increasing the speed of her pulls on my shaft.

Another sensation enters the mix, something I could only describe as a tongue runs around the rim of my head, softly and gently. She closes my mouth-hole as I moan as quietly as I can, trapping the sound inside her. “He ran away, with one of the worst fevers I’ve ever seen. A fever that magic can’t even fix…” says the other women, completely unconvinced.

“Yes… I believe so…” says the girl fucking me. Two rings form around my scrotum, and suck on my balls. I start moving my hips, unable to stop myself. She moans quietly, and tightens the thing around my shaft. It feels as though my dick is submerged in pleasure itself, and I feel like I’m about to come. It feels so naughty to be doing this whilst there is someone else right there… and it doesn’t help when the other girl moves closer.

“So, why are you laid on the bed?” she asks, but gets no response. I’m just about to come, and I thrust my hips extra hard as she sucks the cum out of me. I’m sent into the throes of pleasure, shaking wildly at the process. A hand plunges into Camilla, and drags me out. My dick is still spasming, and thick ropes of white shoot up and over the red-scaled girl. I look at her for a brief second, and she bares her sharp teeth in annoyance before dropping me back onto the bed. Camilla swarms back around me, and this time it feels like a throat as she sucks the last of my seed from me.

I fall back on the bed, asleep.