FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Desires of Demons

Part 2: Unstable addiction

My first years among the Djheni was a time of growth, change, and learning. It was also some of the most dangerous and precarious years of my life. Looking back it is a miracle I survived the simple day to day interaction. To my child mind however, life was a series of joyous wonders.

Unstable Addiction

-1-

Delilah woke with tension through every fiber of her being. She felt as a rubber band ready to snap or a guitar string tuned too tight and plucked. She crawled from the furs on to her hands and knees. Her vision distorted, trapped between cold hard reality and the diffuse aether that bound everything.

She choked and scrambled to the chamber pot, just in time to discard what was left of her dinner. Nausea spent, she still felt dizzy and couldn't see straight. The last thing she remembered was speaking with Knaira, the taste of blood, then only vague fuzzy visions. She downed a sip of water, rinsing her mouth out then sat back, staring at the sky through the slit in the wall.

The sun hadn't risen yet, the sky a pale gold with hints of blue-green clouds. It was still, not a breath of wind coming in off the night chilled desert. She made her way to the door and stumbled out. The cool morning air cleared her senses some. Her skin became damp with dew in a matter of minutes.

Delilah stood there with trembling legs as she gazed out over the dark desert. It was a sight she was becoming familiar with; the groves of strange trees in the distance; the broken rock from what looked like a bluff that had been sundered in some great upheaval; the drifting dunes of downy sand.

As she watched, she took in the cool morning air. Soon the wind began to blow, rushing ahead of the oncoming sun. With it her shattered nerves calmed, her muscles relaxed and she felt her head clear entirely. With that outward calm she returned to her bed and laid herself down.

Inside she felt different, new. She knew her body had changed, and she knew this wasn't normal. The expression on Omolaud's face had told her much. She was strange, she stood out. Nora had taken demon blood, lots of it, she had still remained human. Delilah knew she no longer was, and she wasn't Djheni either.

When Delilah arose a second time the buzzing in her nerves had vanished all together. Omolaud's movements in her room had woken her. The woman was the only one who visited her now, bringing her meals, feeding her if she was too weak to feed herself. Delilah wondered if the woman resented her obvious frailty, every word was snapped but her hands were always gentle.

This morning she was being watched. There was no meal and no hands prodded her muscles or organs. The woman simply watched. Eventually Delilah noticed her lips moving, almost imperceptibly. The words she chanted under her breath were familiar. In her minds eye she saw her mother's book and the strange orthographic script.

Her own lips began to move, uttering in echo of Omolaud's chant. The other-worldly sight bled in to the real world again, clear straight lines diffusing in to each other. Around the older woman was an aura like that of Knaira, smaller but darker. It was shaped and reaching, a single thrusting teardrop of energy reaching towards Delilah's form.

She leaped from her bed, back to the wall and pushed away from the reaching aura. It disturbed her; The way it clawed at the diffuse aspect of her world, the way it cut and reached. She felt more than saw the flash of energy radiating from her, golden and green, vermillion and azure. The old woman screamed and stumbled backwards, her aura spread across the room, edges blurred and quivering.

"What... what." she stumbled to ask what that was, then remembered Omolaud couldn't understand her. She trembled and slid further back in to the corner of the room. The woman laid on the floor, groaning, chest heaving. Delilah couldn't see in to the aether any longer but she knew something was wrong and it was her fault.

Forward she crept until she knelt at the woman's side. A tiny pale hand touched her, feeling the beat of her heart, fluttering quick and uneasy. She leaned in over Omolaud, beginning to cry, "I'm sorry... " over and over she repeated it.

Omolaud closed then opened her eyes twice and sat up. Her arms caught Delilah about the waist, steadying her, "Silence your whimpering child. It takes more than a single unfocused tantrum to upset me." She spoke, in English, very good English in fact, better than even Knaira's.

Delilah sat there stunned, tears forgotten. She stared up in to the old woman's pale eyes, her own blinking a few times, "You... speak English?" she asked, stupidly.

She gazed flatly at the girl, "Does it sound like English to you?" She put Delilah on her feet and stood up, brushing her rump off and grumbling something in another language, "What ever happened to you child..." She trailed off, then continued, "I would appreciate it if you did not go around attacking people without provocation yet."

Delilah began to tear up again, then steeled herself, standing with fists at her sides, "Something was reaching for me, something that doesn't belong, its not right."

She again got another flat stare. Omolaud sighed, "I don't know what you saw, but nothing in this room will harm you."

Delilah insisted, "It was clinging to you like a cloak. It reached for me."

"Maybe you did see something, maybe. But all I was doing was attempting to determine what happened to you." She replied with a hint of impatience.

Suddenly a vision began to flash behind her eyes, memories locked down by the trauma. "I drank Knaira's blood and the thing cloaked about him flowed in to me. I couldn't stop it and Knaira didn't want to stop either. I pushed and pushed until finally he pulled away." Delilah shivered, remembering it, the torrent of sensation flowing through her tongue and lips, then the wracking pains that sent her mind reeling.

Omolaud said nothing more, simply stood and took Delilah's hand. She was lead down the tower and to the dining room. Many of the breeders were already eating, some of them conversing excitedly, others sullen and quiet. Human women had joined the Djheni breeders. Nearly all of them looked shell-shocked, somewhat vacant expressions. One or two spoke quietly, huddled together, of those Mrs. Willard was one.

Delilah was lead to a separate table with a handful of very young children being fed by their caretakers. Before now Delilah had taken her meals in her room, brought up to her by Omolaud. She supposed she would be eating here from now on, some one had decided her ready.

"Where is my momma?" She asked Omolaud at a whisper, not seeing her anywhere.

"She is not to be thought of as your mother any longer. She is only a breeder, your lineage is Nora nothing else." She was silent for a moment, but at the pleading look on Delilah's face she continued, "The breeder Janet feeds with Knaira this morning. She is currently his favorite."

With that she went silent, breakfast arriving moments later. The food was simple and bland, no great care had been taken upon it, only that it was edible and palatable for humans. Delilah recalled her meal with Knaira and the strange foods that had won him honor by her consumption. She almost longed for those strange and alluring flavors in the face of this gruel.

-2-

The weeks drifted by full of knowledge and experience. To the Djheni the Meru, or breeders, were not people, they were little more than farm animals with a very specific set of harvests. The primary harvests were fabric and pottery, some very few had other more intricate tasks they performed. These tasks were secondary to their job as Meru, most if not all the children born in to the clan were from breeder wombs.

Many of her studies were of Djheni culture and language. She had started to speak it, not fluently, but at the very least she could get her point across. Her teachers spoke almost entirely in Emorre'el, only falling in to English to explain complex concepts she couldn't grasp.

She had learned to craft many of the things children were taught long before her age. Now she ate with her own stoneware and had even carved herself a comb made of some soft, silken stone. Her hair thanked her.

The hardest part for her to grow accustomed to was bathing. Water was scarce in the desert and most bathed in falling sand. There was an exception however, deep in the palace there were bubbling mud-baths behind nearly air tight doors. The mud trapped water so less was wasted, and it was boiled for purification. She had been given access to this luxury only once, though at the time she had been upset by the concept.

Nudity had become commonplace to her, doubly so since her skin hardened. Without the need to protect her from the elements she felt freer than she had ever before. The thought of putting on even a robe reminded her of a time when her mother had forced her in to dress clothes for a wedding.

Her body was something else that took some time to get used to. Her balance was off, her muscles bulkier, bones heavier. For days she had felt a phantom itch on the end of her nose, a nose that was no longer upon her face.

There were no mirrors or standing pools of water, the only reflection she had seen of herself was in her morning tea. A face looking back up at her both familiar and exotic. The same eyes, the same hair, but strange ridges where her eyebrows had once been and her elongated muzzle filled with tiny human baby teeth.

Her hands were foreign entities, wider and heavier like that of a full grown man. Strong fingers tipped in black curving claws that protruded directly from the bone. Her fingertips were as delicate and sensitive as ever, perhaps even more so. It allowed her to shape the soft stones without tools. Adults she watched worked harder stones, clawing chips and gouges from its surface without even scratching a nail.

She truly enjoyed working with her hands, it was a thrill to her, watching raw stone being torn away under her fingers. It made her feel so powerful, a power that withered under the scorn of the Djheni. Most of them saw her as little more than a dolled up Meru pretending to be a person. She was determined to prove she was more but their score wore at her heart.

Omolaud was an exception and she suspected Knaira was too. The only two Djheni she had met who looked on her with even an inkling of respect. Omolaud herself was a mystery, nearly every one deferred to her, even Knaira. She managed the harem with a sharp word and gentle touch, cured the sick, scolded the foolish and taught more by example than all of Delilah's teachers combined.

Delilah found herself loving the old woman. In a world of hostile glances, she was the sole source of affection, albeit harsh and impatient. Of her mother she had only seen glances of her at meal times. Not once had Delilah been able to catch her eye. There was little left to resemble the troubled hollow eyed woman she had been raised by. Something had been done to her, she knew, but what, she knew not.

-

Omolaud found her awake before dawn, once again gazing over the desert. She carried with her a small mug, steaming in the cool morning air, "Delilah, Knaira sends you another drought of blood." She seemed concerned, as she held it forth, there were worry lines radiating from her eyes and between her eye-ridges.

Delilah took it in hand, gazing down in to the mug. In the dim morning light it was almost black. A shudder ran along her spine and a heat began to burn in the pit of her belly, just holding the warm stone cup drew her vision in to the other-world. The mug was cloaked in sharp edged darkness, clinging to the stone, bubbling up from the blood in wisps and tendrils.

"It's the same Omolaud, the darkness clings to this as surely as it clings to all Djheni." She paused, staring in to the rolling energy, "Perhaps disconnected it wont harm Knaira." She had learned only a few days before; after she had been gifted Knaira's blood he had taken woman after woman from his harem, savaging them. He had only stopped when a seizure overtook him, almost 20 hours later. He had spent the next three days unconscious recovering, his skin pallid and features drawn.

She tipped the to her lips and drank. Bitter dark blood tingled across her tongue. Power surged in to her, 'The same, it's all the same.' she thought, then dropped the mug, tumbling to the floor with a gut wrenching cry. The power had halted suddenly, leaving her mind and body reeling.

Claws raked across flesh, tearing great rents in her stomach. Her eyes ached, everything appearing with a yellowish tint, things glowing that had not glowed before. The mug, shattered next to her head was bright against the cold stone. Her mind focused on such details; the glowing rivulets of bright red splashing across the ground; the contrast of two different stones joined, one brighter than the other.

Omolaud's hands were upon her, pinning her. Broken stoneware was lifted, the remnants of blood poured over her lips. It felt dead and lifeless on her tongue, vile, wrong. Her eyes set upon the detail of Omolaud's bright golden skin, pulses of brighter gold denoting veins and arteries. The aura cloaked about Omolaud trembled under her gaze, like a rabbit in a snare.

Teeth found flesh, fresh living blood filled Delilah's mouth. Energy streamed down through Omolaud's body, through her arm, through the deep wounds in the flesh of her arm. It was only the shock of the bite that saved the matron, she jerked away almost as soon as she was bitten.

Delilah writhed and snapped, her power reaching out, trying to grasp at the aura that clung to Omolaud. Without the conduit of blood however it slipped from her grasp. Her belly burned, her heart ached, beating far too fast. Blood rushed in her ears and the glow of energy around her pulsed in time with it.

"I... Need..." She sobbed, she didn't know what she needed, instinct drove her, instinct that was alien to her. With those words however her raging hunger abated, tucking itself away somewhere in her belly, to wait for another chance. She collapsed again in to tears, body weak as it trembled and contorted.

As witness to the changes, Omolaud was speechless. The little girl, as weak as she was burned like fire. A gold and green fire that raged from every rent in her body. Her eyes shining brilliantly in the dark, cold flames leaped from her lips every time her mouth opened, even the blood stained rents in her stomach glowed brilliantly. Brightest were the sparks and veins of energy that grew from between her thighs. It made her think of a spider web made of golden flame. The writhing threads clawed at the stone, flickered across her thighs, then reached for Omolaud.

When the girl bit her, it was a shock to her system, she felt as if lightning was coursing through her veins. Old memories stirred and old sensations wracked ancient bones. A heat grew in her core that she knew with such vivid memories, memories clouded by terror and joy. She ripped her wrist away almost immediately, but the damage had been done. The fire of the Achera had awoken in her veins.

She knelt over the girl, careful to avoid her teeth and fiery tendrils, but it appeared her fit was over; as if a sudden summer storm come and gone. The glow faded, her eyes back to their normal blue. Changes had started to flow through her body. Before the old woman's eyes muscles bulged, bones reshaped, skin darkened, and her face contorted. Hair receded along her scalp as ridges formed, tiny horns protruding from each, jutting backwards.

The girl had transformed quickly and apparently with great pain. Muscles bulged and whimpered unconscious cries had torn from a hoarse throat. She was struggling against Omolaud's hold, nearly throwing her off. For fear of worse, she released the child and stood back.

Delilah was only aware of agony, every inch of her body was burning. In truth her nerve endings were changing and growing, their birth cries an overload of sensation. Her mind, only able to deal with a fraction of it, had shut down.

When consciousness returned she was still laying on the cold stone, curled in to a fetal position. The sun was just beginning to crack above the horizon, only twenty or thirty minutes had passed. Her skin felt raw and tender, bones ached, and even her eyes hurt. She opened them, seeing Omolaud standing over her, forearm bound in a bandage. "I did that." she croaked, throat horse from screaming.

The matron only nodded. Before Delilah could even ask, she stepped in to the room and came out with a cup of water. She drank her fill, sitting up with her back pressed against the wall. The world still had a yellow-gold sheen to it, though when she looked in to her mug it was a cold black.

"Everything... Everything is brighter, sort of golden. You are the brightest." She murmured, trying to make sense of it. With what little thought had run through her mind she had convinced herself it was the other-world she was seeing, not this world. But with the cold sharp reality that was proven false. Though Omolaud was bright, she could make out little detail, though her stomach and eyes were the most brilliant part of her.

"Your eyes... They have changed." Omolaud told her, pensive, then added, "They are like mine now. You are seeing heat. In full sun you will not notice unless it is truly hot . But at night..." she trailed off then crouched and reached for Delilah's face, gripping her by the lower jaw, "You cried out that you needed something, what did you need?"

Delilah could remember the need, though not her words, and even now she had no words to describe it, "I was hungry, but I didn't want food... I - I don't know!" she shuddered, recalling that hunger and as she did, it began to grow again. She fought against it, terrified of letting it overwhelm her once more. She pulled away from Omolaud and climbed trembling to her feet. Only then did she notice the the expression on the matron's shadowed face.

Omolaud was tense, eyes unfocused, jaw set and facial muscles bulging. With the sun rising behind her, it was difficult to make out detail. When she stepped back, ruddy light bathing her, Delilah noted a detail that threw assumption to the wind. Her memory flashed back to Knaira, the swollen erection that had protruded between them when she drank his blood. After the blood drawn from Omolaud's wrist, she was in the same state.

"You're - male?" Delilah asked, eye-ridges knitting together with confusion. She felt tiny horns clack together in the process.

Omolaud laughed, a tense laugh, breathless and husky, "We are not human, Delilah Re'o Nora. Your concepts do not apply to us." She paused, taking one deep breath, than another, "I believe I know what drove Knaira now... But I will be fine. I am too old to be driven to rut like an Achera." With those words, she turned away from Delilah and fled down the stairs. She had spoken boldly but inside she trembled like on her day of maturity.

-3-

Delilah, but for meal time, saw no one for days. Not one of her teachers came to teach and the only word she got of Omolaud was from a guard, "She is unwell." He told her and would say no more. He had looked upon her like an insect crushed to the bottom of his foot.

Unwatched, with nothing to do and no one to speak with she began to wander the halls of the harem. A square spiral with four towers at each corn. Hers was the western most overlooking the desert. Many doors were closed to her but many others hung open.

Meru, the fertile beast, Omolaud had explained; there were hundreds in the complex. Many seemed witless and docile, a few sharp and bitter when they looked upon her. She found a workroom where giggling meru played in thread while a bemused matron looked on. Even as they played, they were productive. The snicking of looms never stopping for a moment.

Delilah had to duck a flying stone spindle, empty but for a single streamer of beautiful amber twine. It clattered to the floor behind her and laughter erupted in the room. She moved on, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. A small part of her felt like Alice lost in wonderland, the place made little sense.

She saw humans as well, but they shied away from her as she passed. It struck her then, she was no longer one, she did not belong with these people either. She looked down her body, hands shaking a little as she touched herself. No one would recognize her, no one would understand her. For the first time since she arrived, she felt truly alone.

A single tear etched a path from her eye to her muzzle, then dripped soundlessly to the floor. Her exploration continued but her interest had waned. Blindly she followed the hallways, not even bothering to look through doors any longer. She stared at the cold marble floor, lost in herself.

At the center of the complex was the commons. It was generally a place where Djheni came to meet their meru, sending matrons to find them. Food was served here as well during meal times. It was also the only place where Delilah had found books. They were old, and though many were in English a fair few were in alien tongues she did not recognize.

Delilah looked up as she stepped in, not wishing to disrupt an amorous Djheni. The room however was nearly empty, the mid day meal had been served an hour earlier and there were no Djheni present. Off to her side she heard the crisp sound of pages turning and glanced over. In all her time here, she never saw another pick up a book, not the matrons, not the addled meru, nor a human.

The body she did not immediately recognize, the face hidden behind a great leather bound tome. As she neared she caught sight of a frazzled tuft of red hair, "Mrs. Willard?" she asked, timidly.

The book dropped away and a wide eyed face stared up at Delilah. It was the young woman, but the expression was of fright, "Y..yes?" She asked, her voice trembling for a moment, then steeled with jaw set. The book was laid aside and she stood.

Delilah was shocked when she found she came to a head. Before she had been barely up to Mrs. Willard's hip, now she looked her in the eyes, "Don't be afraid." Delilah started, then shook her head and took a step back. She reached behind herself to grab a tuft of coppery hair and held it out, "Its Delilah."

Bewilderment passed through the woman's face, then surprise, "It is you... What have they done to you?" She asked. Sounding more angry than concerned.

"It is as much a mystery to them as it is to me. Momma made a deal with Knaira, he is fostering me." Delilah told her.

The woman's eyes narrowed and lips curled in to a tight frown, "What sort of deal? What did she give them?" Her hand laid over her stomach, a slight bulge denoting early pregnancy.

Delilah began to realize at that moment, her mother was to blame, for everything. Her belly trembled and tears again filled her gray eyes, "Everything." she admitted. Then turned away, walking towards the cross hall that would lead her to the west tower.

"Delilah, wait..." she heard behind her, but she ran, not wanting to face those accusing eyes any longer. Her mother, one she had loved, still loved, had betrayed everyone.

Outside her room she stopped, looking down over the city in the afternoon sun. She cried, silently, blurring the colorful patterns of the city. When the bell for the evening meal rang, she did not follow; there was no way she could face the human contingent with her new found understanding.

-

With night came clouds, obscuring the strange stars. They spilled over the mountains behind the city, clawing their way through valleys and crevices. Visible only by the obscuring of stars no one noticed them until the first bolt of lightning fell upon the mountain top.

She could hear cheering in the streets as rain began to fall. The dry-spell was over, rain had come to the desert. It was a warm rain, steaming upon her skin. She stayed up late, letting it wash the frustration and sorrow from her mind. Of this world, this splash of rain was the first time she felt truly comfortable. It was familiar and refreshing. When exhaustion claimed her she was drained and peaceful. Gently she was lulled in to sleep by the patter of rain drops and the gentle rumble of thunder.

Morning brought with it beauty. The desert dunes were flattened and hard packed but tiny sprigs of green and amber broke its' surface. A single night's rain had transformed the barren wasteland in to a vast meadow.

Though refreshed by the sight, she still felt the clawing of exile at the back of her mind. Out there where green things grew, that was where she belonged, she felt distantly connected.

By mid day meal no one had come to instruct or observe her. As such she was emboldened, no one to tell her what to do, the desire in her belly grew. After she ate she left the commons towards the main entrance of the harem. Two sets of nested, double doors guarded by six Djheni warriors.

With courage quivering and trying to escape she marched straight up to them, and in Djheni told them to let her out. There was a bemused glance passed between the two inner guards, then one spoke, "Go back to your room meru. Unless you want for company." He sneered as he said it, hips flexing to protrude the first few inches of his penis in her direction.

She glanced down at the deep red organ, than back up to his face, "Has Knaira given orders for me to be imprisoned? I was last aware that my status was of fosterling, not meru." In her gut she trembled, terrified of the guard but she refused to back down.

He seemed surprised that she didn't just scurry away, "No - he has given no order." He paused then glanced to his partner, the response was only a quirk of his muzzle, Djheni equivalent of a shrug. The first, without a comment opened the door and stepped through. She could hear muffled conversation and a few moments later returned looking flustered, "Alright, come." he told her, pushing the door open wider.

She quirked her eye-ridges in curiosity then followed, peering up at the annoyed guard. He said nothing until they were half way down the hall, "I have been told to guard and guide you. I am told it is an honor." the way he said it, he obviously did not agree, but one did not disobey one's superiors.

Delilah tried to suppress a giggle and received a glare. She composed herself and stood up straighter, "Thank you." She said in her best Djheni, then asked, "What do I call you?"

He was nonplussed, it took him a moment but he did eventually respond, "Deurak." He told her, then asked with resignation, "Where do we go?"

She glanced around the halls, getting lost already. The palace was built like a maze, there were semi-direct routes to anything, but for every direct route was another half dozen dead ends that lead only to side rooms. She had only gone through these hallways once, with Knaira, but she held no curiosity for them.

"Outside, I need to be outside..." She left it at that, no intention of telling him of the compulsion that drove her.

"That would not be wise." He paused, looking down at her lower belly, frowning.

Delilah blushed a furious crimson as he stared, a hand moving to cover her crotch. She growled at him, eyes narrowing as the embarrassment turned to annoyance, "What are you looking at?" she accused him, though she knew there was no taboo in Djheni culture, she still felt human.

"You are not Djheni, everyone will know you are meru." He stated, standing there gazing down at her, face lifting to gaze at hers, the embarrassment easing off.

"How?" She asked simply.

He reached down and pushed her hand away, laying his fingers over her stomach, just above her pubic mound, "You have no penis, you are only meru. Others would try and claim you"

She stumbled back as he touched her, glaring, but that glare turned to a gape at his words, "No - Penis? I'm a girl!" she slashed at his hand as it moved towards her, drawing a spray of dark blood and stepped further back.

He only laughed and licked the red from his hand. "You are not Djheni." His hips jerked forward lewdly and his penis emerged again, fleshy ribs along the top flexing suggestively, "I take you back, safer with meru."

"No!" She snarled and took a step forward, hand reaching out to grab him by the offered protrusion. She twisted and lifted, hearing him yelp in protest. "You will take me outside, you will protect and guide me, and you will not show this disgusting thing before me again. Is that understood?" She asked, then realized it wasn't, her words were English. In her anger she had forgotten to translate.

She repeated, as best she could in her stumbling Djheni, all the while squeezing and digging her claw tips in to his flesh. She could see the guard was holding back from beating her, it was a risk, her value to Knaira verses the value of his manhood.

Her anger boiled in her veins, urges drifting up from her belly, the desire to taste his blood, to drain him; it came on like a freight train. She fought back, releasing his length and stepping away. The member snapped free with a slap to hide away in the guard's sheath. He whimpered with wide eyes, teeth bared and muzzle trembling. It would have scared her if she didn't know how close he was to whatever burned inside.

Her eyes shut, features clenched with muscles twitching. When her eyes came open again, the burning had quelled, she had mastered herself once more. The look on the guards face was still furious but there was a deep unease to him, she wondered what he had seen.

"Very well Delilah, may my neck break and penis turn to dust, should you come to harm. I would rather that than face Knaira with dishonor." He turned away from her sharply and pushed through a series of double stone doors.

It took them only a few more turns to find the grand entry, a room of vast marble pillars, inlays of gold and beautiful works of art. It also was a makeshift throne room, for what purpose she didn't know. It also looked quite old and well used. The floor had a smooth bow to it where feet had worn it away over hundreds of years. She could track the most heavily used paths, primarily from the doors to the throne. The door she had used was also heavily tracked and felt uneven under her feet.

The great doors that barred the way were made of heavy stone banded in steel. She doubted ten men could open them. One of the massive doors had a much smaller hatch to allow the casual entry and exit. There was a guard at either side of it, eying Delilah and Deurak. At his word they opened it, allowing them out in to the blinding afternoon sun.

The first vision of the city up close was dazzling. Walls were painted in a glassy glaze of color, garish even. High above banners fluttered in the wind, the same banners she had seen from her tower. The noise struck her deaf, people shouting, laughter, haggling over goods, massive sleds drawn by great pack beasts clattering over the road stone.

She couldn't stop her eyes from roaming everything. Every where she turned there was something new and interesting. The scents she had drawn from high above bombarded her. Pleasant and vile, sweet and bitter. Meat sizzling in great pans sent her mouth to watering.

Deurak intruded upon her visual exploration with a sharp grunt. She turned to him, seeing his impatient expression, "Where to first?" He asked.

She glanced back out to the crowds, wide eyed, "I don't know." But she did, she knew exactly where she wanted to be, out in the wilderness. Suddenly faced with the city however, she felt small and insignificant again. Her curiosity for this wild, strange place was overpowering. So to was her fear of it. At last she told him, "The desert. I can learn life as a Djheni eventually, but I want the wilderness."

His shock apparent, his expression grew uneasy, "Protecting you outside the city." He paused, looking towards the far city wall, "I may fail."

She contemplated being flippant but wisdom won out, "There are many dangers in the desert?" she asked, peering up at him.

He nodded solemnly and began to walk. She followed, wondering why he didn't try to convince her to go some where else. She watched his back, spade shaped tattoos shifting back and forth over his muscles. About his hips a belt was draped, two blades sheathed. Over his shoulder a colorful sash threaded with copper wire hung, denoting his rank.

Around her the city bustled with activity. Occasionally it was interrupted as Djheni stared at her, whispering back and forth. She began to realize just how much she stood out. For one, the mane of coppery hair at the back of her head was unique. The lack of a penis, as Deurak had pointed out certainly didn't help either. Her skin was the wrong color, her face the wrong shape, her size and weight were wrong as well. She was too tall to be very young, but too skinny to be older. She did not pass for Djheni.

The farther they got from the palace the closer she walked to Deurak, trying to hide in his shadow. When they finally reached the side gate, she was trembling. It was a hostile alien world, one in which she doubted she could ever belong. Beyond the walls however, away from hostile eyes, she again lifted her head. Courage returned and the urge in her belly drove her on.

Her guide halted at the end of the road, the city only a mile behind. The road was kept clear of sand; workers swept it daily but they hadn't bothered laying another stone. Beyond this point there was nothing but desert for hundreds of miles. She gazed upon the dunes, dry and dusty now, but still hard packed from the night's rain.

"Show me this world, Deurak." She told him, coming up to stand at his side.

He too gazed across the dunes, then started north towards a distant grove of trees at the foot of a bluff. Along the edge of the desert she could find those small green shoots, like grass climbing towards the sky. In only day they had grown half a foot, draining the dunes of moisture. Deurak plucked one and stuck it between his teeth, Delilah did the same, finding it bittersweet.

Delilah surprised herself, the long hike passing quickly and even in the intense heat of the afternoon, she did not tire. Beyond the confines of the city she began to get a sense of the world, vast and alive. From within her tower it had looked small, with the city making up most of her little world. Out here the city was a sprawling patch of blight upon the edge of the dunes. Now it was insignificant, meaning little more to her than a bed and a place to eat.

When they reached the edge of the trees, Deurak slowed. He was cautious, she could see the clenching muscles in his jaw while his eyes flitted back and forth. She too began to peer about nervously, eying the strange trees and sandy ground. There was little in the way of ground cover, no shrubs no bushes. Only those fine sprigs of grass freshly grown poked free, climbing towards the sunlight. The trees themselves were covered in strange bark, rubbery to the touch and colored in flesh hues. It disturbed her a little, they seemed more animal than plant.

"Many of the plants of the desert are carnivorous, eating primarily insects and occasionally the foolish or desperate animal. These appear sated however. See how skin is tight? If it looks wrinkled or saggy, they hunger." He told her, then made his way between. The trunks shifted, branches bending towards Deurak. Their tips were needle like, hollow, she didn't know if they drew blood or injected but she did not want to find out.

As he said, they were sated, none of the branches jabbed at him. She followed, carefully staying as far as possible from any of the trees. Deeper in the grove the vegetation changed, more recognizable trees with leaves and normal bark. At the very center was a vast pool, an oasis. Her guide stood back from it, watching the treeline, then frowned, "None of the desert beasts thirst this day. Perhaps the rain." He commented and stepped forward.

She followed, cautious at first, but at his relaxed canter infected her as well. The scent of water, the feel of damp sand under her feet, and the sound of wind in the trees certainly helped as well, "This is beautiful, Deurak." She would have said more, but the emotions that swelled in her heart and belly could not be described. She looked in to the deep black water, and sighed, remembering the forest pond from her home, "Is the water safe?" she asked.

He looked to her then the water, "Safe? For drinking?" He prompted.

"No, for bathing. Are there carnivorous fish or plants that might attack me?" she replied.

"Oh, no, beasts of the water. I know stories of them, once long long ago, but they are myth not history." He said, gazing out over the placid pool. A smile crept over her face and she stepped in to the sun warmed water. For the first time in months, she felt true water enveloping her body. It was something she had missed more than even ice cream. At age three her mother had taught her to swim in their pond, she had taken to it like she was born to it.

-

Deurak watched with amused curiosity. Djheni did not swim, sure they may ford a river time to time, none swam for pleasure. Away from the city, the rumors, and the eyes of his peers he relaxed. He found this strange half person pleasant and bright. Her curiosity and fickle mood kept him on his toes, but he didn't mind, the palace was dull.

He had no intention of getting in the water, but he did watch with some curiosity. She was graceful he determined, cutting through like a sand snake, hardly disturbing the surface. Eventually he found himself a soft patch of sand and leaned against a tree, relaxing and enjoying the peace. When she eventually came from the water, hair plastered to the back of her neck, body running with rivulets; he had to cover himself, remembering her demand not to see his malehood again. She was beautiful in an exotic way, like some patron god of merusi.

When he again gained control of his desire she had taken a seat not too far from him, letting herself drip dry in the warm air, "Delilah, this is a good day. I have been honored. Do forgive my displeasure." He told her, trying to make amends, though he doubted any of the other Djheni would believe the honor.

She looked at him with a strange expression, lips pursed and eye-ridges pressed together. She turned away, looking out over the water, at a loss. Eventually she glanced back, asking him, "Would you guide me again?" She didn't say what she was feeling; how claustrophobic she felt in the palace, surrounded by hostility. Here, in this place, she felt like herself at last.

"I would, when my duties allow." He told her, completely relaxed. That relaxation and the deep shadows cast by the low sun allowed him to miss the movement at first.

From the deep shadows at the foot of the bluff wandered great beasts. At least fifteen of them. Delilah noticed them first, jerking against the tree with a sharp gasp. The largest stood a meter tall and nearly three meters long. Its face a triangular wedge shaped muzzle with deep set side facing eyes of black and gold. It was graceful, reminding her of a tiger on the prowl, stalking its prey before leaping. It had a body that reminded her of pictures in her mother's history book, white bulls sacrificed to ancient gods. Its legs were flexible and muscular, with great scythe like talons tipping nearly Djheni like claws. However the most striking feature were its scales, glistening dull coppery brown like the sand for the most part but for its back; great plates of shimmering scale, swaying and lifting as it moved, different patterns, different colors, brilliant and garish. They would have caught the light had the sun been shining directly upon.

Delilah's gasp alerted Deurak, but though he saw them, he stayed relaxed, "Now I understand. Be still Delilah, you now meet the Achera." He told her, a grin splitting his features, eyes bright with pleasure.

"I know that name." Delilah told him, wary of the beasts settling down on the far shore of the pond. A few drank, others sprawled out upon their backs in the sand and sunned their dun colored underbellies.

"You should. Djheni are not Djheni without the Achera. Achera choose Djheni from meru, choose meru from meat." He told her, which left more questions than answers but she left them unasked.

She did take note of the scale patterns upon the Achera's back, and the patterns tattooed to Deurak's chest, "The tattoos, you get them when you become Djheni - when you mature."

He nodded, reaching up to pull his sash aside, exposing the colorful markings over his pecs, "Another pack of achera, one chose me and conveyed great honor. He was only three spread from pack leader." A look of pleasure crossed his face, grin spreading further.

"How do they choose? What do they do?" She asked, remembering the addled meru, impulsive, unable to hold a conversation, no self control. She began to make the connection, the achera were the cause.

His grin slipped a little and he glanced over to Delilah, "I shall leave facts to teachers, I know only the experience, the fear and anticipation. I was brave, I went without the fire of achera, sober and trembling." He struck his chest, "And I was rewarded!" he exclaimed loudly, drawing lazy stares from the achera on the other bank.

So many questions flitted back and forth through her thoughts but he seemed unwilling or unable to explain further. There was a note of fanaticism in his voice and the pride in his eyes spoke volumes. When he gazed upon the gentle looking beasts, it was with awe and love.

-4-

Two days later she woke to find Deurak standing outside her door, gazing over the city. She relieved herself then stepped out, greeting him quietly. He glanced over, nodding then back out to the city. For a long moment he was silent, watching dawn break, "Your matron is recovering. She opened her eyes last night. I was bidden to collect you."

She nodded. It was heartening to know Omolaud was recovering. She followed Deurak down the tower and through the commons. The twisting hallways lead finally to dead end with a single doorway. Inside it was lit only by a single high window, catching the first crack of dawn.

Delilah settled to the side of the bed, a raised platform of stone, draped in skins. She looked frail but when Delilah got close, a hand reached out, gripping her wrist like iron, "Child, I am too old for this, if you ever bite me again I vow I will bite you in return." The sharp words were softened by the smile splitting her face.

"I was worried." Delilah told her quietly while grasping Omolaud's hand, "Deurak told me you wanted to see me?"

"I did not mean to make it sound urgent, did that fool boy wake you?" Omolaud asked, peering up at Deurak, who looked a little embarrassed.

"No, I found him wandering around outside my door when I awoke." Delilah replied, grinning.

The old matron sat up, looking pale and drawn out. She eyed Delilah, seeing how she had changed since that day, "You have grown in to yourself, still a bit skinny but that will change." She paused and reached for a drink of water from the floor beside her bed, then continued, "There is something inside of you child..." again she paused and looked up to Deurak, glaring sharply at him. He got the hint quick and fled from the room, memories of his childhood and her sharp tongue coming back.

"Now then, this something is feeding on life. I felt it when you bit me, it was just a taste but..." Omolaud looked down at the bed, then sighed, "I am an old woman; a moment longer and you may have killed me. The way you are now, you are dangerous, too dangerous. When I am strong enough I intend to find out what it is inside of you and how to stop it."

Delilah was silent, feeling a coldness in her belly. Omolaud was right, there was something inside of her, but it belonged to her, it was a part of her, she could feel that when ever it overwhelmed, "I don't want to lose it. What ever it is, it's me. You're saying I need to chop off my own leg because it kicks people."

"If your leg kicked people against your will, hard enough to bed them for a week; yes I would say it needed to be removed." She chided, "I don't know what it is, or what we can do about it, maybe we can't remove it, maybe we can make it less harmful. Something must be done."

Delilah stared at the floor, feeling a trembling in her core. Anger flowed through her, unwarranted and alien to her. With that emotion she knew Omolaud was right, "Yes." She said, simply and stood, "Deurak?" She called over her shoulder. He poked his head in after a moment, "Can we go out today? I - I need to be alone."

There was a curious look on Omolaud's face, but she said nothing. Deurak nodded, "Yes. For my... honor, I am now your personal guard." He told her, and though he stumbled over the honor part, he didn't appear put off; on the contrary he seemed pleased.

Omolaud laid back down and waved her off, grumbling something under her breath. It looked like she had more she wanted to discuss, but it could wait. The room felt like it was closing in on her, she needed the wide open spaces.

-

The desert was a sea of emerald now, but she was told that by tomorrow it would be brown. Still early in the day, they carried enough food for two meals, with no intention of returning until after nightfall. Their destination was the bluff, Deurak insisted she learn to climb.

It was the same bluff as before, with its deep oasis and pack of achera. Instead of entering the grove however they circled around the other side to find a spot to climb. To Delilah it was simply a cliff face, inaccessible as a wall but her guide saw potential. When he found a spot he liked he began to teach her the basics; what to look for, what to avoid, and how to climb.

"...Remember, a firm grip of three, never any less." He finished with a smile then asked,"Are you prepared?"

Her eyes lifted to the rock face, seeing the tiny cracks and ledges she was supposed to grip. The path he had chosen was rougher and easier than the other cliffs, but it still scared her, "I suppose so." she told him, gathering her courage. She stepped forth and reached for the first ledge, he would come in behind watching her.

With strength in her limbs she could not have dreamed a year ago; the climb wasn't too taxing. Her claws dug at the rock face, making handholds where there was little more than hairline cracks before. She enjoyed it, her confidence building with every step.

Half way up they halted on a wide ledge, looking out over the emerald dunes. They were in the shadow of the bluff, protected from the harsh sun, but it was still hot. With her knees to her chest and chin resting upon, she stared, watching the ripples of the grass in the strong gusts. Without the grass to hold it down there might have been a sandstorm,

"This world is so volatile. Everything changes so fast." She commented, feeling it in her bones, the rapid flux of the planet.

"This is true." He pointed off in the distance, a cloud low on the horizon, "there the winged ones feed, eating the stem and seed. Without summer storms there would be no stem, the seed would shrivel and die, buried in the sand. Every year the seed grows, once for every storm. The winged ones feed upon the fresh stem and seed. The burrowers feed upon the fallen seed. The grazers feed upon the desiccated stem. The achera feed upon them all." When he was finished, he nodded as if he had said something profound, Delilah however already understood the food chain.

"It is deeper than the storms." She told him, watching the cloud of sand on the horizon, "This world spins faster and faster out of control, a hungering impetus driving it. You said once there were fish, but now the waters are empty? This desert was once a sea." She touched the stone under her fingers, feeling the tiny shells and other fossils embedded in it, "Sedimentary rock, great islands of it strewn about, an archipelago. Here are your fish Deurak, under your fingers."

He looked down, gazing at the stone, seeing the ribs of tiny animals. Never having thought of it as it was just stone to him, though he was not a stone worker. His fingers caressed the outline of a shell, a spiral fossil, "Where is the water?" he asked, pointing towards the desert, "This desert claims half our world." To that she had no response.

By the time they reached the top Delilah was winded. She was stronger, sure, but the bluff was massive. The crown was covered in tiny shrubs clinging to rocks and a single stone-worked building. The building was ancient, from another time. A signal tower Deurak told her. Another surprise awaited them at the top; half a dozen of the achera were sprawled out on the stone sunning themselves.

She watched them and listened to the colorful plates scraping against the ground when they moved. They were strangeness within the strange, she could pick out familiar features and common traits, but as a species they were purely exotic.

"How dangerous are they? I see you don't fear being near them. Are they tame?" she asked as she took a seat next to Deurak. He was far less winded than she.

"They are most dangerous of animals, anywhere." He responded, then nodded to her second comment, "I do not fear my brothers, I am as achera as I am Djheni. They are wild but know Djheni, no fear, no mistrust."

As if the conversation was overheard one of the achera lifted its angular head and peered at them; its eyes shining golden in the mid day light. It rolled over and trotted forth until it was standing directly before Deurak and Delilah, head swaying back and forth with nostrils flaring. Now Deurak looked slightly agitated.

Delilah reached out slowly as if the beast was a cat, palm first towards the beast's nose. She felt the hot breath rolling over her fingers then a gentle dry nuzzling of its muzzle in to her palm. The surprise visit went un-noted by the rest of the achera, but this one seemed curious.

"He is a child." Deurak said quietly, noticing the shorter scales with less defined ridges,

"Soon he will fight for rank." She only nodded.

The beast laid down with a woof, head resting heavily upon Delilah's knee. She pet him gently, scratching behind his ears and under his scales. His pattern was black but for a single slightly off center scale of bright red, over his right shoulder. She watched him, and he watched her; Delilah felt drawn to him, part of this strange wild, she belonged. With that connection made the achera closed its eyes and began to slumber against her lap.

"Is this uncommon?" She asked, at a whisper.

"No. Achera pups are regularly raised by Djheni. If the achera matron has died." he replied.

-

Conversation sputtered flared and died over the rest of the day. The achera moved only once or twice, the last time to lay its entire head in Delilah's lap and wouldn't move when she tried to get up. When the day wore in to night Delilah fell asleep, pressed in to the warmth of the beast.

When she woke again it was with her head in Deurak's lap, the achera gone. Both of them hungry they made their way down the easy side of the bluff and went home. No one paid much mind to them so early in the morning and Omolaud was still bedridden. They parted ways inside the palace and she returned to her room to care for herself before the breakfast bell.

The next day her teachers returned and she had no time to explore. The day after Omolaud came to meet her for breakfast, looking stronger than ever. For the moment everything was back to normal.

-5-

It was a month before Omolaud felt strong enough to put her plan in to action. Delilah had mostly forgotten about it, between learning from her teachers and exploring with Deurak, her days were full. It was a late evening with her reading some ancient tome in the commons that Omolaud came to her.

"Tomorrow Delilah we will try." She said without reference.

Delilah looked up, frowning, "Try what?" She asked.

"To seal or remove what ever it is inside of you." Omolaud told her, looking worried as she said it.

A burning in Delilah's stomach told her that it had heard and understood. That rage began to build and it took all of her will to suppress it, "Omolaud..." she began, straining to contain herself, "I don't know if it will let you."

-

It was a dark morning, though the sun had lifted, Delilah felt the morning bells to be a dirge. Her stomach burned and her mind seethed as she stood there, overlooking the city. Irrational thoughts swarmed in her mind, to flee the city, to leap from the tower, to... to feel the Djheni men inside of her. Vivid memories flashed through her; of her mother laying there moaning as Knaira entered her; of the meru below as Djheni bred them. She had watched on occasion and there were few secrets left to her.

She was startled when Omolaud's hand laid to her shoulder. She turned to look up at the old matron, behind her were six Djheni, powerful in body and more so in aura, "These are Djheni death chanters." Omolaud told her.

The name was familiar, Delilah's teachers having mentioned them on occasion, "Warriors who kill with spell..." She commented, staring in awe at the six men. The death chanters were the wisest and most powerful spell casters of the Djheni.

"Yes Delilah. I too was one once, long long ago, before I was captured by Emorre." Omolaud told her. "Come, let us begin before you lose control. I can see you're struggling."

Delilah entered her room, the other seven filing in behind her. She was instructed, and laid herself down, gazing nervously to the others. Omolaud stood back as the six encircled her. She felt hands on her arms, legs and body, warm and dry touches, firm to the point of pain.

In unison the six began to chant, instantly Delilah's eyes clouded over with the aether. To varying degrees these Djheni had auras to choke the sun from the sky. She felt as if she was suffocating as the dark sharpness encroached upon her diffuse reality. Panic seized her, her own and from the pit of her belly. She tried to rip at them, she tried to throw them off, she tried to send them flying. Her ability was out of reach, their chanting suppressing it.

It was a simple feat, fill the room with power so dense that no other spell could join it. They choked Delilah's flame, snuffing it in the overwhelming force of their own. Simple as it was, there was strain, this child fought, she fought harder than any two of them could have. Undisciplined and unfocused she achieved nothing, with practice she could have torn free. The Djheni, they felt, tasted, and smelled the power in the room; it crackled along their skin, tickled at their nose, and left a sharp tang upon their tongue.

With the child subdued, Omolaud began to chant. They made way for her, opening a single access to the girl's body. A new tremble ran through Delilah, fear mixed with anger boiled in her veins. Just like before, months before, when she had woken to find Omolaud reaching for her. That encroaching tendril of energy slithered through the overwhelming mass of energy, finding route where Delilah only saw confusion. She tried to slap it away but again her power only fizzled.

Delilah screamed, a harsh bone wrenching sound. It almost made Omolaud pull back, almost, fearing they were harming the child. Steeled with her own conviction she reached further until she felt the girl meet her spell. As fog washing over a laser display, her power revealed golden filaments woven and tangled through Delilah's body. Not a single fiber of her was free of them, not a single muscle, not a single lobe of her brain. The filaments followed the path of her nervous system, centering just behind Delilah's womb.

Omolaud had no experience with this phenomena. She plied her magic like fingers, caressing along those filaments. They quivered, alive and filled with power. At her touch they writhed, the mass in Delilah's belly shifting. It was too late when she realized what she was seeing, tendrils of golden fire spilled from the child's sex, reaching for the nearest Djheni. One man screamed, his stomach trembling and body arched. She watched with helpless awe as they burrowed through his flesh, following the paths of power in his body.

Delilah hungered, that hunger burned in her veins, boiled in her mind, and seethed in her bones. She reached with quivering belly, reached with a muscle she did not know. She saw the tendrils of energy, her roots, as they burrowed in to the man at her side. As soon as they touched the power in the room began to drain away. She drank him, drawing his strength in to her and his aura bled away.

The Djheni eyes that set upon her were mad, mad with their own hunger that matched her own. Her body lifted, arching towards him with a mind of its own and he leaped upon her. There was a pause in the chanting, a startled response as the death chanters watched one of their own lose himself.

With erection throbbing painfully, he parted his robes and fell upon the girl. Her smooth pliable flesh under his fingers, the others held her open, accessible. He took her, mind mad with desire. At the first kiss of his phallus to her entrance, she moaned for him. Flesh hot, wet, and inviting; he penetrated, a single jerking thrust, his flexing length slid into her.

Delilah with eyes open, watched him. She knew the pain as her sex stretched around him, she had felt it once before. The pleasure she did not know but it was welcome. Her hips lifted to meet him, depths clamping down upon his ridged length. As aroused as he was, there was little flex or give in his member, ridges already standing tall and firm. When he began to withdraw she shuddered with pleasure, each ridge catching inside and dragging across her flesh.

Six thrusts, that was all the man achieved, that was all he needed. Upon the sixth thrust he screamed; a scream like that of a dying man. Semen, hot and watery poured in to Delilah's belly, it did not sate her. She bucked hard, driving him deeper, driving her own roots further in to his body, reaching for more. With his release his aura drained in to her, consumed but not enough.

The stunned silence broke, chanting beginning anew. No one was sure what had happened. Two of the death chanters reached for their trembling brother, trying to pull him free of the child. Fingers to flesh, the roots burrowed in to their arms. Like electricity making a circuit, their power drained through, in to their brethren's body and in to the child. Delilah only saw the aura lessen, flowing like fog across the skin of the one atop her.

They jerked free, filament broken, it shriveled and faded from their bodies but they felt the effect. Omolaud changed her chant, something darker and with intent. Four repetitions then a single word. A pressure wave knocked the wind from Delilah's lungs. The one atop of her flew backwards, crashing in to the wall then falling to the floor, a heap of dark robe.

Her feeding interrupted, she reached again for the one upon her other side. He jerked away, staying far enough from her hips that the tendrils could not reach. Rage burning within her mind, she began to scream and thrash. With the strength of her lover pouring through her veins, one arm lifted. Upon that arm was the largest of the death chanters, wide eyed and terrified. With new intent, she threw him, single handed, to the far wall; he landed with a sharp crack.

Something in her mind told her, she would not let them kill her, she would not let them starve her. Another body thrown, she leaped upon a third. Her claws went for his fore arms and her body descended to his. Filaments burrowed in to his flesh and her teeth found his throat. She drank, a deep single swallow, and felt him rise against her stomach. His need matching her own, need with separate intent. Her hips lifted to meet him, to draw him in to her belly.

There was a moment of silence and stillness. Her hips halted, her swallows stopped. Something cold and satiating passed through her. The room was silent, as silent as the grave. Not even the wind stirred in the window. Her head lifted, eyes turning to rest upon Omolaud. The aura that extended was silvery, a silver she recognized, edged like a razor. It extended through her body, just above her navel, so thin, so potent.

The room watched as every golden filament in Delilah's body above her navel faded, separated from the mass in her lower half. Omolaud cut again, separating Delilah from the death chanter below her. Delilah trembled, eyes upon Omolaud's, full of confusion. Those eyes were the eyes of a child, there was no predator behind them, there was no hunger, just silent wonder. A moment passed and those eyes rolled back then closed; Delilah fell to the floor in a dead faint.

-

There were no words that day from any who had witnessed. One Djheni was dead, his body carried from the tower. One, still alive but writhing and tormented with agony was carried in to the palace. Others trembling with fear or pain descended. Only Omolaud and Delilah remained at the peak.

The child slept and Omolaud watched. She had seen many horrors in her long life, inflicting many of them herself. This horror was new, but no more and no less than the rest. She sat with Delilah's head in her lap, wiping sweat from the child's brow. She had changed again, body deforming; more Djheni now, less human.

A slit formed where Delilah's navel had been, shallow but familiar. She would never be mistaken for meru now. At Omolaud's probing, she found it empty, but at least it was something, at least the child would not stick out like a sore thumb. The hair remained, which Omolaud was also thankful for, the coppery gold stream lent beauty to the Djheni form; she even wished she possessed such features. Strange though Delilah appeared, she would attract many.

-

When again Delilah woke two days had passed. She found herself alone, a plate of food sitting next to her water pitcher. Though hungry she felt stronger than ever; her mind clear and sharp. Before now she had never realized how her thoughts had buzzed and crackled, like static playing on a radio between her ears. Memories were vacant, the night before was a blank spot her mind shied away from.

Her hand drifted down, feeling the smooth flesh between her legs. A deep heat tempted her and fingers slid inside. Occasionally she observed the meru masturbating, she had thought little of it before. Now she craved and the craving was new to her.

With legs splayed open lewdly her fingers plunged deep. Inch by inch she explored and trembled, careful not to cut herself with her sharp talons. Every sensitive spot new to her and delightful. With an exhilarating rush she came, body trembling and a whimpering moan climbing up her throat.

Her other hand found the new cleft in her body where her navel had been and delved between. It was deep warm and damp, similar to her sex. It too was sensitive, though not nearly as much as the tiny nub at the upper cleft of her vulva. At the deepest point she found a tiny flap of flesh, trembling and oozing as the second orgasm rushed through her. Curiosity danced in her mind, wondering if it would grow, wondering what it would be like to wield a penis.

With those thoughts filling her, she washed then ate. Satisfied physically and mentally, fortified with a belly full of food; she descended. It was a new day and she wanted to explore.

End of Part 2