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Elizabeth was lying on her bed, doing some reading for her home-schooling program, when Frand walked in and sat down on the bed next to her. Her pregnancy was still progressing, and while her belly hadn't yet swelled to the size it surely would as the children Frand had forcibly created continued to grow within her, it was a noticeable bump that reminded her of the trim figure she used to have - and of the fate she had to endure. The nausea hadn't been bad, at least, but the alien feeling of something stirring within her was hard to reconcile with the life she'd imagined living.

As much as she loathed the man sitting beside her for what he had done - after what had happened, she simply couldn't bear to think of him as her father - she knew that for the sake of the family members who were still free of him, it was something she couldn't afford to show. Instead of giving him the cold glare that he more than deserved, she formed her muzzle into the best approximation of a smile that she could muster, sat up to greet him properly, and looked back at him without hesitation.

"Yes, Frand, is there something I can help you with?" She saw Frand's eyes flash with irritation, and realized belatedly what she'd called him. Even if she couldn't think of him like that anymore, it was a word she still had to use. "I mean... what can I do for you, father?"

She watched as Frand's expression softened, and he reached out to gently stroke her head before returning his hand to his side. "Do? Nothing right now, my dear. I just need to tell you a couple of things, so be a good girl and listen carefully."

Elizabeth nodded, grateful that nothing else was being demanded. Since her pregnant belly began to show, the worst of it had stopped, but Frand still had a habit of touching her incessantly, some times more intimately than others, whenever he was in the same room with her.

"Good. In a few days, there are going to be some people from the county child and family agency poking around here. They said that they need to make sure conditions here are okay before they help me get Jessica back, and once they do, we can go back to being a happy family again. No more traitors or whores, just a good, traditional, respectable family again. You want that, right? Wouldn't that make you happy?"

It was, in fact, the opposite of what Elizabeth wanted, but from the way the question was posed, she knew that the only acceptable answer was to again nod her assent. The only way that futile dream of a happy family could come true again was if Frand was out of the picture - if his version came into being, it would be less a dream than a nightmare even worse that what she had already gone through. Sadly, that nightmare seemed to be growing ever closer.

"See? I knew you'd be happy about that. Happy to see your sister again, and help her get back into her proper place by your side. I wish that all my daughters had been like you. You've been such a good girl, and I won't forget that, but to make sure we can get our family back, there's some stuff I need you to do."

Frand reached into a pocket and pulled out a slip of paper with a name written on it. "Jethro... Tonbow. I saw his name on your class schedule for this year. The agency people are probably gonna ask where your baby came from, so just tell them that Jethro knocked you up - out of the other guys in your class, his name sounds like the kinda guy who might do that. Just tell them that, and they'll probably leave you alone. You can do that for me, right?"

Jessica nodded again, but for some reason Frand's face hardened a little again as he continued. "Now, I know you're a good girl, and I don't want to think you'd do anything to hurt this family, but after the way your sisters acted, I just want to make sure you know how serious I am about keeping this family together."

Frand reached into his pocked again, but this time came out with a slim, black pistol, which he rested against his thigh. "Now, you know I'd never hurt you like that, but you have to know what happens if you don't tell the people what I told you. This family needs to stay together, and if you get me in trouble, how will that happen? You can't work in your condition, and your mother is in no shape to. If you make a mistake, or if you say what really happened and get me in trouble, they're gonna take me away - and then what will you and your mother do? And if they do try to take me, I'm not gonna go quietly. I'm gonna take this gun, and I'm gonna hurt them for trying to take our family apart. You don't want to say something that could make that happen, do you?"

Elizabeth shook her head this time, as a chill swept through her. Frand, she knew, was unstable enough that his words weren't an idle threat - and the gun sitting on his thigh made it abundantly clear that he had the means to act if he chose to. For a moment, as she looked at it, the thought flashed through her mind - with the gun just sitting there, what if she grabbed for it before Frand could notice what was happening? What if she tried to put an end to it then and there? She knew, though, that the risks were too great - if the gun wasn't loaded, or if she missed, then Frand would surely take it out on her, and if there was no one for him to trust, he might ignore the gradual process he was on and simply grab her other sisters by force. As strong as that sudden impulse was, to take up the gun and in one split second give back to Frand everything she'd had to endure, she instead looked back up at him and played the part she knew she had to play.

"Don't worry, father. I'll tell them what you told me to, and that everything is fine."

"All right, then." Frand pocketed the pistol again. "I should have just trusted you anyway. You always were my perfect little girl. I love you very much, and I'm going to protect you always." Frand leaned over and planted a light kiss on her forehead, got up, and left the room without his customary groping or stomach-polishing. Apparently, she'd given him what he wanted, and for now, that was enough.

Elizabeth lay back down and went back to her reading, but it was impossible to concentrate. The people from the Department of Children and Families would certainly show up, but... what then? What could she tell them? If she told them the truth, like she very much wanted to, Frand might eventually go away, but he'd already made the consequences of that clear. If she did as he asked, though, and the people believed her, it would mean that eventually they would bring Jessica back - and as soon as they did, she'd soon be in Elizabeth's situation, or worse. At the moment, though, lying for Frand was the only viable option - at the very least, it bought some more time for Elizabeth to see whether she could convince Frand that he already had everything he needed... or, if it came to it, for her to make a tough decision about confronting Frand in the most dangerous possible way.

--

As the days progressed, Jessica grew more and more comfortable in her new life. While the implant in her arm had itched for a day and made her insides feel a little weird and floaty for a couple more, she rapidly forgot about it being there, and didn't spend much time thinking about its significance. After all, there were much more interesting things with which to occupy her thoughts.

Her schooling continued apace, both the modern topics which she excelled at, and the tribal teachings that she was quickly fascinated by. The modern schooling was informative and fun in its own way, but the way that the traditional teachers recited the tales of the ancient culture of the tribe was so much more vivid. The stories were so transporting that Jessica could almost imagine that she was there, at the beginning of time and throughout history as the tribe grew, watching as the various tribal gods created and feuded and loved, and how their celestial dramas projected outward towards the fate and survival of the tribe through generation after generation.

One tale, though, immediately stood out when she heard it. In it, Kanyuo, father of the modern gods, had gone out of control: setting his children against one another, their clashes echoes across the land through earthquakes along the land and fearsome storms raging across the many seas. Finally seeing the error of their ways, the children instead banded together, fusing their life-force to create a huge, powerful creature. Their father, seeing this as insubordination, rallied all his strength and fought the combined will of his children. Their battle raged for many days and nights, mountains springing up where the ground shook with their clashes. Finally, the children focused their will and made the creature so large that he scooped up their father in his hands, and pressed them together until the rage was forced back within Kanyuo's body and could no longer harm the world. In the process, Kanyuo's own body was compressed along with it in the creature's fists, and while gods cannot die, Kanyuo became very small and very bright, the rage flashing within his diminished form. The children then set the creature to place Kanyuo in the sky for all to see, and he became the guiding light in the north, a shining reminder to all the people that rage can only lead to ruin, and that true power comes when all the people put trust instead of anger in their hearts and work together as one.

That night, as she lay snuggled against her new tribe-sisters and prepared to drift off to sleep, the story replayed itself in her mind - only this time, of course, the part of Kanyuo was played by her own father. His rage and his power loomed above her, raining down terror upon his family. But who, she wondered, would come together to create the creature who could force his terror back down inside him? There was no way her siblings could manifest that much power, and from what she had learned, the tribe was very clear about not getting involved in any conflicts outside their own walls. Maybe someday, though, she would be able to find the strength within herself to create that thing: not a physical creature, as in the story, but perhaps a metaphorical one, a plan that could could force all the bad things back down inside Frand's body and give them back the decent father that she hoped was still hiding somewhere behind all the mean impulses that had manifested there.

To that end, she promised herself that she would do the best that she could within the tribe, so that when that time came, she would be in the best position to take him on. Though she hadn't been doing bad before, she swore to redouble her studies, and to learn the trades she was working at - and the bits of hunting-style fighting that Aryen demonstrated to her some evenings. She'd kept pestering him to keep showing her, even after Benoit had caught them at it, and while he hadn't banned it outright he'd gently discouraged it. "This isn't a time to be learning the arts of war," he'd said, "but the path of strength, wisdom and even temper that can truly bring a path to peace." Plus, he'd said, it made more sense for her to hang out with her own group, at least up until the time when they would both be part of the tribe's most sacred rituals. "It is important not to make mistakes before then," he'd said. Jessica wasn't entirely sure what mistakes could happen simply from being around Aryen, but from that night on the girls in her group regularly invited her to do various things with them at night, and she was able to sneak away for her fighting lessons much less frequently.

Training to fight or not, though, there were more than enough things to keep her busy. As much as it had seemed strange and tedious at first, Jessica found that she was a quick study at the trade of curing, tanning and working the leathery hides that made up many things in the village. Every day, she learned something new, while honing the techniques she'd already picked up. While she managed to ruin a few small hides in the process, such mistakes were quickly becoming less and less frequent, and the quality of the successes was steadily improving. When a part of the tent her group lived in became overly worn and started to tear, she patched it up securely with a strip of hide she'd cured and cut herself, feeling immensely proud of her accomplishment. True, she'd done many things before, but it was the first time she felt that she'd really accomplished something practical, something real, with her own two hands.

Her other afternoon studies were progressing as well, and doing so fairly quickly - apparently, the day when the girls in her group would be ready for the fertility rituals was fast approaching, and there were certain other things they needed to know about. On one of those topics, specifically boys, the instructors had decided to do an about-face from their original vague conversations - during one of the sessions, several boys from an equivalent group were brought into the classroom for a practical teaching session, although Aryen was not among them. They stood upright along one wall of the classroom, while the girls sat on the floor near the opposite one, and watched as something surprising happened, for Jessica at least. She'd always assumed that the fuzzy sheaths were the full extent of what boys had between their legs, but as the teacher instructed the boys to think hard about the girls sitting across from them, small pink tips began poking out of the part of the sheath that tilted upward, nudging up querulously like a mole poking its snout out from its underground burrow. The tips kept nudging upward, though, expanding into fleshy shafts that flushed a deeper red as they poked their way upward. They seemed bigger than their fluffy sheaths had hinted at before, looking about as big around as a trio of her fingers pushed together, and extending out about as long as the length of her hand.

She marveled at them, thinking about how silly they looked waving around like that, and some of the boys almost seemed to be flushing with embarrassment beneath their fur. Realizing that the boys seemed a little bit uncomfortable being put on display for someone else, she went down the line of girls, encouraging any that felt comfortable to lie down on their backs and show what they had between their own legs, so that everyone's curiosity could be satisfied. Something about that made Jessica nervous, though, so she remained sitting, although only Callie took the same position - the rest of the girls complied with the teacher's suggestions, and as they did so, Jessica realized that whatever the boys had been doing, the show was far from over.

As she watched, the boy's shafts began to turn an even deeper shade of crimson, and the lower part of them actually began to somehow swell outward, like some sort of round ball was spontaneously sprouting at their base. Soon they were fully swelled and a deeper red, almost violet color, nearly as thick around as her wrist. All in all, it looked even more ludicrous that the strange pink sticks had before, and it was all she could do not to laugh out loud at the weird display. At the same time, though, she felt an unusual twinge flutter through her belly. It didn't feel bad, though, like the unease that sometimes lurked there when she was ill. Instead, it felt kind of... right, somehow, like it was supposed to be happening, and was followed by a little thrill of warmth that somehow made her insides feel noticeably more comfortable. What that had to do with the boys being there, though, she still didn't quite know, but she let her eyes wander between them as a smile began to spread across her face, and a couple more warm, fluttery feelings made her body thrum in the same strange but pleasant way.

She wasn't the only girl to find that interesting, apparently - a couple of the others had a hand or two tucked in between their legs, and a few of the boys were beginning to tremble, their shafts now a deep purple and seeming to vibrate like plucked strings. One of them took a step forward towards the girls, but the teacher quickly wrapped a hand around his wrist, hustling the boys outside while claiming that they "needed to use the bathroom, and then get back to their own class." Jessica still wasn't sure just what exactly had transpired, other than to know that whatever it was had inspired several of the girls to drive themselves to shuddering moans similar to what had happened in the session where they'd been encouraged to explore themselves.

The instructor, returning to that scene, had called the class early and sent them on their way, promising to go over why boys were that way, and what that had to do with girls, in more detail. When they got back to their tent, though, Mautaye still seemed somewhat worked up over the encounter - instead of going out with the other girls to hear a storyteller after dinner, she stayed in the tent. Curling up one of the furs she usually slept on into a roll, she curled herself up around it and undulated against it, making a sort of weird, mewling cry. Jessica and a few of the other girls had told Benoit about it, but he only nodded knowingly and told them to leave her be. By the time they got back, she was asleep, but the next day her condition was obvious: like the women Jessica had seen before, her mound was all puffed up pink and clearly visible between her legs, slick and wet and glistening. She seemed particularly energetic and affectionate, rubbing up against her tribe-sisters in slightly too-close hugs and almost seeming to purr from deep in her throat. When they'd brought her to their sex-ed class, though, and the teacher noticed her condition, she jumped at the opportunity - instead of being subjected to a dry explanation of what was to happen between men and women, they would have an opportunity to see things firsthand - to observe the fertility rituals, and to cheer on their sister's first time experiencing them.

Jessica left the class feeling a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Finally, she would be allowed to see what happened behind the high, fenced-in walls of the ritual area, but at the same time, she felt a certain sense of danger. Whatever was supposed to happen in there, she couldn't help but think about the only real experience she had seeing what happened when a man and a woman interacted like that - and it was the image of her father jamming his hand between her sister's legs until she made a terrifying noise and collapsed forward against him, and then dragged behind a closed door and subjected to something unknowably horrible. Whatever the folks in her tribe got up to behind the fence surely wasn't like that, couldn't be like that, but at the same time what happened there, strange noises hidden away with only her imagination to fuel them, left her more than a little scared.

--

As Jessica walked away from the classroom, memories of Frand stirring fear in her heart, several miles away a nondescript, battered sedan with government plates pulled up in front of the place that she had until recently called home. Sitting in the front seat, Carlton Andrews sighed as he turned off the ignition. His colleague, Anita Beschon, sat in the passenger seat, fiddling idly with her inspection clipboard. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Carlton watched as the green-and-tan shape of the county patrol car pulled in behind them.

Pulling his door open, Carlton stepped out to greet them. He didn't recognize either of the deputies immediately: one was a feline hybrid, a bit of a rarity in the area, a burly, almost tiger-looking guy with a nametag that read "Brent." The other one, a short, solid woman with a fur pattern and muzzle slightly reminiscent of Corgi-hybrid ancestry, was apparently "Margaret." They both greeted him warmly, though, and upon quizzing them, Carlton discovered they'd already been briefed by their sergeant, and if an arrest was warranted or if the target became combative, they were prepared to act - one of them had a powerful stun gun at the ready, and the other had a beanbag launcher clipped to her belt instead of the usual nightstick.

Satisfied that they would have the situation well in hand if anything untoward happened, Carlton approached the door and gave it a good knock, as there was no bell in evidence along the front of the ramshackle but sturdily-constructed house on the forest's edge.

A moment later, the door swung open, and Carlton gulped at the large slab of wolven lumberjack that answered the door. This, then, was certainly Frand, and for a moment Carlton wondered if the two stout deputies would be sufficient against him. Showing fear, though, was hardly appropriate for someone in authority, so Carlton kept his expression carefully neutral and greeted the man who almost completely filled the doorway in front of him.

"So, you must be Frand. I'm Carlton - I believe we've spoken on the phone several times."

"Yes, Carlton, of course!" Frand boomed in response. "Come in, come in! I'm sure you'll find that our home meets all the requirements you talked about, and is a comfortable environment for a girl to grow up in."

"I'm sure it is, but you know how it is with the government - we have to be thorough."

Frand nodded, stepping aside and waving them in in an oddly obsequious manner. Frand obviously wasn't accustomed to it, but in order to get what he wanted, the man was sure to put forth every ounce of charm he could muster to ensure that the government gave him what he wanted. After all, Carlton had the key that could bring his daughter back to him, and it was a key that Carlton had to seem to extend - at least until he was able to confirm the man's true nature.

It was true that, on the surface at least, nothing in the home seemed particularly out of the ordinary. It wasn't the biggest place ever, the paint on the walls was faded and cracking in places, and many of the appliances looked like they were at least a generation old - however, that being said, he'd been in a lot worse places. Here, there weren't any cockroaches skittering across the floor, or giant piles of trash everywhere, or emaciated people chained to bedposts.

The only record on the guy that Carlton had found had shown a couple of old calls for domestic disturbance, but no charges filed. If that had been a dynamic in the household, though, it seemed to be in the past: the wife, Naomi, didn't have a mark on her, and wasn't wearing anything conspicuously to cover up an injury or moving in a way to suggest she was nursing a beating. So much for the back-up plan if the daughter didn't cooperate, then.

Cooper spotted her in the bedroom off the hallway, sitting on one of the beds and reading what looked like a physics textbook. She was wearing a loose blouse and a knee-length skirt, both plain but looking practically brand new, and didn't seem particularly disturbed at a glance. However, the loose clothing didn't do much to disguise the unmistakable pregnancy bump that swelled her belly outwards.

Taking a few steps back, he went over to where Anita was looking over the intakes to the gas range in the kitchen. He whispered briefly in her ear, and she nodded in response. Checking something off on the clipboard, she got up and turned over to Frand. As she did so, Carlton noticed the man's eyes flicking studiously away from where Anita had been leaning over. Well, given what he'd probably done to his own daughter, it was hardly a surprise that Frand would have no qualms ogling anything female in sight. Knowing what he'd just asked Anita to do, he suddenly had a bad feeling about letting Frand go anywhere at all alone with her, and as Anita asked Frand to accompany her on a tour of the home's exterior and point out its vents and structural supports, Carlton tapped Brent on the shoulder and asked him to discreetly follow along after them.

Carlton looked over, noticing that Margaret was chatting with Naomi about something innocuous over on the couch. That meant that for now, Elizabeth would be alone - and he had a short, rapidly-closing window to talk to her without any coercive parental presence. In a matter of moments, he had moved himself swiftly down the hallway, and plopped himself down on the unoccupied bed - Jessica's, most likely - across from Elizabeth. She looked up at him, her face display a flicker of... something... before she quickly forced it back into an expression that was thoroughly neutral.

"You're from the DCF, right? Frand said you'd want to talk to me..."

The daughter calling her father by his given name - red flag number 1. It also meant that he'd probably talked with her about the visit beforehand, and coached her on what to say. Not exactly a huge surprise, and one he'd dealt with before in various ways.

"Yes, that's right." Carlton glanced down at his watch - 30 seconds gone already. Might as well get right to it and hope things shook loose the way he wanted them to.

"Now, would I be correct in assuming that Frand has told you to say something specifically for my benefit?"

The girl looked a little taken aback by that, her face again displaying a crack of emotion before shutting down again. "I, um..."

"No, don't worry about it. If Frand told you to say it, well... you know what? How about I just talk for a little bit, tell you what I know, and we'll go from there."

Elizabeth nodded, and Carlton continued. "First off, I know what happened to you." The girl looked a little surprised at that, her eyes widening, but didn't volunteer anything further. "I sent a colleague of mine to talk to your sister. She told me about what happened, and I put the rest of the pieces together."

At the mention of her sister's name, Elizabeth's eyes widened further, and she interjected before Carlton could ask a question. "You saw her? She's okay? Please tell me she's safe!"

"Yes, she's quite safe," Carlton replied, trying to sound reassuring. "She's with the group that lives out in the forest, part of the Cultural Preservation Guild. My colleague says she's in good health, and seemed to be as happy as she could be in her current circumstances. There's a solid wall and plenty of armed tribe members between her and Frand, and it can stay that way - if you tell me what I need to know."

The time was ticking away too quickly. If he was going to get something out of her, it had to be now. He hated to apply pressure to someone in such a vulnerable state, but a little bit of pressure now that could lead to her safety seemed better than not pressing the point and leaving her in Frand's big, rapey hands.

"So, let me tell you what I think. I think that the baby you're carrying inside you is Frand's, and it got there because he committed a serious crime against you. Now, if I have to, I can get DNA swabs and a court-ordered amniocentesis, and prove beyond doubt that that's what he did. However, if you want this to end now, which I think you might, all you have to do is answer my next question truthfully. You don't even have to say anything if you're afraid - just nod your head if it's true. So, my question is: Did Frand have sex with you, and impregnate you, against your will?"

Elizabeth's eyes flashed fear this time, and she pulled the covers on the bed up around her, looking back at him nervously. Carlton could tell that she was conflicted, and realized that maybe he'd pushed it too far - if Frand had threatened her, or her mother, if she told on him, Elizabeth might be terrified to give that information away. That was why he'd led with the line about the DNA test - oftentimes, when victims realized the truth would come out eventually sooner or later, they were more willing to be forthcoming because the secret already seemed to be revealed, even if that revelation was just an educated hypothesis. In this case, it worked - after a few more moments of hesitation, Elizabeth nodded her head.

"Good. You'll probably have to speak with someone in more detail later on, but that's enough for now. I'll tell the deputies, and we'll take him away so he can't do anything more to you." He got up to leave, but Elizabeth, looking suddenly panicked, grabbed his wrist.

"Wait! You- You can't do that! He said that if you tried to take him away, he was gonna shoot all of you! He showed me a gun, and he's got it on him, and... I don't want anyone to die, not because of me..."

Carlton hesitated, scenarios whirring through his head. If she was right, then they might all be in trouble. He'd have to warn the deputies, but if they spooked him too early, or drew their guns too late... No, it was far too risky. Not with his junior colleague and several innocents in the house. He turned back to Elizabeth, hating himself for what he suddenly had to ask of her, but it was the only way to handle it cleanly.

"Elizabeth... can you handle being with your father for a few days longer?"

The young woman nodded. "It's fine. He doesn't stick it in me anymore now that I'm pregnant - he just... touches me. As long as Jessica is safe, I can endure it for as long as I have to."

"All right. Just act like everything is normal, and I think we can get through this cleanly. I'm going to tell him that everything went okay today, and we'll pick him up another time when he's out of the house and won't pose a danger to you. Just a few more days, I promise, and we'll get this sorted out."

"Okay," Elizabeth replied, her expression once again devoid of emotion. It wasn't an uncommon expression to see on abuse victims, especially ones who'd resigned themselves to their situations. Hardly a surprise, given that what hope he might have given her, he'd quickly had to dash in favor of a future promise that she had no way of knowing if it would be kept. As he left the room, though, hearing the front door swing open as Frand and Anita came back inside, his mind was already formulating a plan.

He huddled again with Anita, hurried whispers filling her in on the situation, and why he was handling it in a slightly different way than they'd planned. She went over to fill the deputies in on the situation, as Carlton forced a smile onto his face and approached the man he'd now all but confirmed as the child-raping scum of the earth he'd suspected. Now, he just had to sell it, without Frand being suspicious about it going smoothly.

"So, we've gone through the checklist, and everything looks like it's in order. Just a couple of things: with winter approaching, you should make sure to check the weather-stripping to make sure the house stays warm, and you need to clean out some grease from the vent hood in the kitchen before it becomes a fire hazard. Oh, and make sure to schedule your daughter for a prenatal checkup in a month or two to make sure her baby is healthy - if you don't have a doctor for that, give my secretary a call and she can connect you with a community clinic. Those are just some things to think about, though - I think the inspection went well, so we're going to move forward on the paperwork. Give me a few days to get this report written up and some of the other paperwork in order, and we'll set up an appointment for, say, Friday?" Frand nodded, and Carlton continued, hoping that the nerves that came of his deception weren't causing him to talk too suspiciously fast. "Great! Once you come in, we'll go over some other forms, and get moving towards the final steps towards asserting your parental claim and returning your runaway daughter to you."

Frand beamed in response, and instead of reaching towards his pocket as Carlton had feared, extended a hand forward to give the agent a strong handshake. "Thank you for doing this! I know Jessica will be eager to come home safe, and we're all looking forward to seeing her."

"All right, then. My secretary will be in touch about that appointment. Have a nice rest of the day." Carlton turned and headed for the door, still half-expecting to hear a shot ring out as the deputies edged out nervously behind him. The only sound that accompanied their exit, though, was the door closing quietly behind them, and Carlton breathed a sigh of considerable relief as he got safely into the driver's seat and drove back down the narrow dirt road towards his office. He still felt a little guilty about leaving Frand where he could still abuse the rest of his family, but the man had left them little choice. At least, he consoled himself, in a few days they would be safe, and their tormenter would begin to reap the consequences of the hurtful choices that he'd made.

--

Night fell, and Jessica still had butterflies in her stomach about what the evening held in store, enough so that she picked at her dinner, only finishing it under the other girls' gentle encouragement. Mautaye, of course, had eaten earlier before being whisked away by the sex-ed instructor - as it was her first time participating in the rituals, she had to show up early to learn some of the basics. The talk around the cooking fire was, of course, all about the night's activities, the various girls guessing as to the content of the night's events. From what they had seen so far, it was easy enough to conjecture that it had something to do with the "swelling" between both male and female legs respectively, although how the two worked together was still a topic of speculation. A few of the girls had managed to coax their own fingers into some place inside them concealed by their folds, and conjectured that the male part did something in there; a couple of the others, including Callie, thought that the two areas just rubbed together until something "interesting" happened. In any case, the girls were eager to see just what would happen, in the one single activity where children were wholly separated from adults, which meant that their inclusion, even to watch, meant that they were on the cusp of being adults and part of every aspect of tribal life.

Shortly after they finished eating, and went on a quick round of torch-lighting duty, they gathered back at their tent, where their teacher was already waiting for them, a small pack slung across her shoulder. "Now remember," she said as she shepherded them into a single-file line, "tonight you're going to be learning about one of our most sacred rituals. There are certain specific things that you will learn later on, such as how to perform some of the ritual dances, but for tonight you are simply to learn by example and observation. Watch, listen, and appreciate what you will see for the natural beauty that it is, and when your turn arrives you will be able to attune yourselves for the pleasure and deep interconnections that the ritual brings."

They nodded their understanding, and the teacher led them back down the path that wove between the tents, coming to a stop on the far side of the high-fenced enclosure that surrounded the ritual area. It was away from the main entrance, mostly quiet, and from just looking at it, Jessica couldn't see what they were supposed to do out there - it just looked like a blank section of fence formed from thick tree trunks secured closely together, without even a space between the trunks big enough to peek through. The teacher, though, went over to one of the logs and touched a knothole protruding out from the bark. The knothole slid away to reveal a grid of holes formed into the wood beneath. The teacher reached into the pack and removed a cylinder of wood the same size as the knothole, with a selection of pegs that seemed to stick out at random from the back of it, gesturing with it at the strange panel as the girls gathered around to look. "This isn't entirely related to tonight's lesson, but the grid you see here is actually a hand-carved locking system, designed by our ancestors as one of the very first such systems in recorded history, not just of the tribe, but of the entire world. Back then, it was used to secure storehouses of food, both from the lower animals, and from rival tribes that would try to sneak in and steal food away for their own use before the arrival of winter. That isn't as much of a concern today, but we occasionally use the locks for other purposes in order to preserve this tradition."

The teacher inserted the cylinder into the lock, letting the pins slide into some of the grid holes, and as soon as the cylinder was flush with the grid there was a soft, wooden click. A section of the log seemed to shudder forward, and th teacher reached over to swing it open on a hidden set of hinges. Inside, the interior of the log had been hollowed out, with a wooden ladder running along the far edge of it. "This will take us to a good place to watch. Go up one by one, and be careful on the rungs." Then the teacher stepped back and began to usher the girls up the ladder. Jessica went up last, climbing up until the ladder ended, opening out into an area she hadn't thought existed.

At the top of the ladder, it became clear that instead of one set of logs making up the fence, there were actually two, running parallel to each other. Set between them, just below where the logs of the fence began to taper into conical points, was a narrow wooden platform that rested in grooves cut into the logs to either side, and seemed to run along at least the length of fence they could see from their vantage point. It made for a nice little perch, though, and they all found a good spot to sit, each one of them poking their heads out between a pair of tapering columns to get a good view into the ritual area below.

At first, Jessica was a little disappointed - for all the talk and secrecy, she'd expected something impressive, gilded with all manner of banners, decorations, and interesting ritual statues or totems or something to make it unique. Instead, it looked mostly like empty space, with four stout torches sitting idle at each of the corners, and a crackling bonfire in the center. The only real difference from the rest of the compound was that instead of bare earth, the area was planted in a dense carpet of grass, colored a vibrant, emerald green that Jessica had never seen before - a far cry from the sad clumps of foliage in what had passed for a playing field at her dilappidated elementary school.

There was a hint of movement from the opposite wall, and Jessica looked over to see several boys from a group like theirs - in fact, the ones who had been standing in front of them before - poking their heads out to watch as well. An older male, probably their teacher, sat next to them. They looked around eagerly, only to look just about as disappointed when they saw the empty field, and were soon looking back across at them, a few of the boys waving at them in greeting. Jessica waved shyly back, smiling, although she couldn't help but wonder why they were all up here when nothing was happening. She wasn't left wondering for long, though - less than a minute later, the sound of hidden drumming began to echo around them, and a moment later Mautaye walked out from an archway in the fence, holding a small torch whose flickering light illuminated the trio of vibrantly-colored flowers expertly woven into her headfur. She walked near the bonfire, turning and inclining her head to the four cardinal directions in a sort of subtle, straight-backed bow. Jessica had learned enough about the native belief system that the motion was meant to honor the four most important elements of the world: the soil, the water, the sun and stars above, and the collective force of life that flowed between them all.

As she did so, Mautaye was joined by three others: a young man with just a hint of pink protruding from his sheath, a middle-aged woman, and a man with fading fur leaning heavily on a hand-carved cane. Clearly representing the phases of life as a tribal adult, each also carried a torch, and they quickly split off to each corner, lighting each of the large, freestanding torches in turn and bathing the entire ritual arena in a flickering, golden glow. They then returned to one archway or another, which Jessica noticed were already packed with various people arriving for the evening's rituals. In their staid, Benoit now walked towards the center, dyed strands of grass tucked into the fur on his arms, legs and chest. Unlike the men who had appeared before, Benoit was sporting a full erection like the ones they had been shown in class, and she had to suppress a giggle as it waved back and forth in front of him as he walked. He stopped in front of the bonfire, seeming to look up at them as he raised his hands above his head in an expansive gesture and began a series of low, rumbling intonations in one of the native languages. Jessica, through the education she'd had so far, was able to recognize the sound of it, but only pick out the meaning of a few words here and there. From what little she could make out, it seemed to be about the earth and its ability to give life.

As Benoit spoke, though, the people in the archways began filing onto the grass, men from one archway and women from the other. It was only a small fraction of the village, perhaps fifteen from each one, but a range that included everyone from boys, or rather men, slightly older than her own age group, up to men at least as old as her own father, or perhaps a bit older. There were some younger women, but Mautaye was by far the youngest, and when the two groups formed lines facing each other, she was at the end near one of the torches and just barely visible when Jessica craned over between the wooden fenceposts to look down at her, and then across the rows of people facing each other, almost adversarially in their rigid lines. They were, she realized, representative of the tribe in other ways: ranging from short to tall, somewhat slender to somewhat muscular, with many of the various lupine and canine fur patterns and colors on display, although it was hard to differentiate some of them in the firelight.

Benoit finished his intonation, waving his arms in a sinuous pattern before raising them again, and the drumming began to rise in tempo as both sides tensed, twisting into a particular posture that almost seemed reminiscent of a ballet pose she'd seen on TV years ago.

Jessica almost jumped up, startled, as the drumming suddenly shifted over to a rapid, pounding cadence. As it did, the two lines of people seemed to spring to life, twisting and twirling in an energetic dance as their bodies ducked and swayed in time to the beat. Watching the figures dancing through the flickering, almost strobing glow, swaying breasts and hips anchoring the movement of flashing limbs, it was mesmerizing to see.

Jessica was ready to lose herself in the performance, when her eye caught Mautaye in the midst of it all, looking confused and frantic as she desperately tried to keep up. Jessica could almost feel her desperation, and wanted to call out encouragement to her, but didn't know if it was okay to do it during that part of the ritual. She wasn't the only one to notice, though - the woman next to her, a lady Jessica thought was named Shenara, quickly took Mautaye into her arms and spun her dizzyingly through the air, setting her down only to be lifted up and pirouetted about by the next woman in the line. By the time she got down to the end, she looked a little unsteady, but still somehow energized by the motion of it all.

Before Mautaye could get back into the dance, though, the drumming built to a crescendo, and then suddenly ceased as Benoit brought his hands back down to his sides. One of the women from the line, around Benoit's age, came over to stand next to him, and he took her hand in his own. Together, they gave a flourishing bow, one to either side, and Jessica could feel herself blush when the woman bowed in the other direction, the glistening skin between her legs on prominent display as she bent over, puffed out into thick ridges that seemed to form a narrow, crimson O. Then they stood back up, and Benoit proclaimed in a strong, resonant voice: "Let the night come alive!"

Suddenly, both lines were in motion, but in a much less organized way than the choreographed performance from before. Both lines seemed to become uneven as the groups converged on each other around the bonfire, quickly fragmenting into different pairs or groups, as Jessica tried to figure out what they were up to. Whatever it was, the older adults seemed to be much more direct about it, each man seeking out a particular woman or vice versa, huddling in close to the bonfire and pressing close to each other in a warm embrace, tongues flicking across muzzles as they wrapped their arms around their partners and seemed to pet their soft fur. The closest thing Jessica could compare it to was the times when Frand was trying to do... something... with Naomi, but this was much different, all soft and caring instead of rough and grasping.

It also wasn't half as interesting as what some of the other groups were doing, Jessica realized, as she spotted several people running by in the corner of her vision as she watched one of the couples by the fire. She pulled her gaze back, and realized that while the more sedate couples were cuddling by the fire, the rest of them seemed to be playing some sort of... game, it looked like. In fact, strangely enough, it looked similar to the games of tag she'd played as a child with the other kids in her neighborhood. Only here, though, it seemed that all of the men playing were "it," and the women were all trying to playfully scamper away while the men chased them down. They ran around the edges of the ritual arena, laughing and shrieking. For what was supposed to be one of the tribe's most important rituals, Jessica thought, it seemed a lot like silly fun.

At least, that was how it seemed at first. When one of the women would get "caught" by one of the men, he would bring her into his arms and hold her against him for a moment, bringing her in to touch muzzles for a moment as a hand slid forward to caress one of her breasts or run its fingers down the fur along her side, before allowing her to curl out of his grasp and pirouette away to start the chase anew. It was a little strange, a little more intimate than what Jessica was used to seeing, but hearing the shrieks of delight and seeing the almost revelatory grins on the women as they spun away from each encounter, it was clear that whatever was going on, they were definitely enjoying the momentary, intimate dance.

Somewhere along the line, though, the game seemed to change. After a few times of getting caught, most of the women almost seemed to be flushed somehow beneath their fur, their faces almost glowing, the area between their legs flashing a deep red as they ran, in counterpart to the men who all now had fully-extended shafts with the odd, round thing fully swelled up at the base. The next time a lupine-featured woman with grey-black fur was caught, just a short ways away from Jessica's vantage point on the fence, instead of a light embrace, the man's hands wrapped tightly around her hips, his fingers pressing in against her rump, and Jessica gasped as he pushed himself in forcefully against her. The woman's body shook and quivered as the man seemed to rear his hips back and buck up against her, once, twice, three times - and each time he did, instead of the delighted shriek from earlier, she let out a different sound, short, sharp, almost a combination between a bark and a scream, a weird combination that could have easily signaled delight, pain, or both. For Jessica, though, it sent a cold shiver down her spine and a pang of anxiety tensing nervily in her stomach, as it was all too familiar - it sounded slightly different in pitch, but it was far too similar to the sounds she'd heard Elizabeth making through the door, the night that Frand had first took her into his bedroom.

Luckily, the sounds didn't continue - after the third odd, pounding buck, the man pulled back, giving the woman another quick kiss on her muzzle before allowing her to spin away. When she did, though, she wasn't nearly as sprightly, stumbling for a few steps before she regained her footing. Looking at her, Jessica realized that the woman's nether flesh was now a deep, almost purpling crimson to match her partner's shaft, and to Jessica's astonishment, both seemed to be glistening with the same moisture. It couldn't have been just from rubbing together, she realized, and together with the odd, bucking motion... had the man somehow put his thing... in her? Was that even possible?

Jessica glanced down at herself for a moment, a hand instinctively reaching down to cover the area between her legs from view. Was that really how things worked? That being a girl meant that things were actually somehow supposed to go inside there? That meant, then, that when Frand had taken Elizabeth into the bedroom, and he'd done that thing to her... it seemed, somehow, even more horrible than the worst things that Jessica had imagined happening in there.

The women here, though, didn't seem to be hurt by it at all, as one after the other shifted over to the new kind of encounter. Whatever it was seemed to leave them momentarily dazed, but happy nonetheless, smiling after their pursuers as they allowed the game to continue. If it had been that bad, surely they all would have run towards the archways, away from the one area where this was allowed and back into safety, but none of them seemed to want it to stop - in fact, a few of the women escalated it even more than the men, turning the tables and chasing the men down before pushing them onto their backs and jumping on top of them to perform a bucking motion of their own.

Even Mautaye seemed to be having a good time, her shocked-sounding shrieks when one of the younger men caught her in a quick, bucking encounter turning into sharp barks of delight the next time around. She, along with the rest of the women, seemed to be getting more and more into it, the chases getting shorter and the encounters getting longer. Jessica watched with an odd twinge of combined excitement and horror as Mautaye wailed below her, her entire body rocking sharply as the canine she was with bucked up against her a dozen times in rapid, thudding succession before allowing her to spin away. This time Mautaye's knees seemed to wobble, her hips twitching and bucking on their own almost as though they were experiencing some sort of aftershock. The man grinned, circling her as she stumbled her way back to solid footing - almost, she realized, like an animal anticipating the final pounce on its prey. Whatever was going on, she realized, it was getting close to its conclusion.

Sure enough, the chases seemed to be winding down, and both the men and the women were looking more like they were in some sort of trance. The women seemed to be stumbling more, whether by instinct or by design, and a few of them almost seemed to pantomime tripping over something and tumbling onto the ground, their rumps in the air and their tails splayed upward or to the side to reveal the swollen flesh on display between their legs. Their partners wasted little time jumping on the opportunity, landing heavily on top of them and eliciting a steady stream of barks as their hips began to buck rapidly against their partners. Other men seemed to pounce on their female partners, or the women simply pounced on the men, both tussling around on the soft grass for a moment before one of the the pair ended up on top and embracing their partner tightly in their arms before starting the same sort of rapid, frantic bucking as the others. A few seemed to join together in the standing encounters from before, but instead of a few quick bucks, the motion just went on and on, eventually rolling over into a horizontal position like the others as their barking shrieks joined a rapidly growing chorus. Near the bonfire, the other pairs had transitioned from standing or sitting to embracing prone on the grass as well, and while their actions weren't as frantic as the younger couples, their bodies writhed together in smooth, practiced motions as the screams grew louder and shriller.

Then, in a change that seemed to ripple through the entire arena, the motions of the men against the women became slower, sharper, harder, the women shuddering at the impact of their partners slamming against them. The anxiety in Jessica's chest spiked as she watched, her eyes darting between the writhing pairs until her eyes fell on Mautaye, her muzzle partly obscured in the grass, her face a mixture of bliss and confusion that turned to shock as the boy atop her seemed to mash his hips in as hard as he could on top of her. The ragged, desperate moan she let out seemed to float across the rest of the cacophony below and ring true in Jessica's ears, sounding terrifyingly like the horrible sound that Frand had finally forced out of her sister. All around, similar moans built up, and as Jessica's eyes darted between the pairs, she couldn't tell any more whether the women were crying out in pleasure or in agony. It had to be pleasure, it had to be what they wanted, but it was more than she could handle. It felt like the incident between her sister and Frand were playing out many times over, yet somehow all at once in a dozen different voices. Without even realizing it, Jessica's own cries of terror joined the chorus below, and she clamped her hands over her ears, pressing them down flat against her head as she screwed her eyes shut and felt her body curl up around her as she began to sob in fear. This was supposed to be better, supposed to be the opposite of what Elizabeth had gone through, but now everything seemed bad - and the idea that she would have to go through the same thing, in mere days or weeks, only served to stoke her terror and cause her to cling to herself more tightly.

She was suddenly aware of arms around her, concerned voices calling out reassurances over the noise from below, and she cracked her eyes open to see Teilen and Isabel cradling her gently, looking down at her with concern and puzzlement. The teacher hovered nearby, looking even more concerned.

"Jessica? What's wrong?"

"I- It-" Jessica stammered, not even knowing what to say. "I can't stand to hear them getting hurt like that! I don't want that to happen to me!"

"Hey, hey, it's not like that," the teacher replied, looking confused as well, but seeming to understand at least some of it. "You had a rough go of it before you came here, right?"

"Yeah, my sister..."

"That's right, Benoit was telling me about that... I though that if you could see how it's done here, if you could see it the right way, it might help you to come to terms with what you went through and realize that not everything like that is bad. I thought that just seeing it, from a safe place, might be more comfortable, but... I'm sorry. I should have thought it through and realized that seeing things so abruptly might trigger those uncomfortable memories. Everyone down there really is okay, though."

"But... how can you stand to watch all those women get hurt like that?"

"They're-" the teacher paused, apparently trying to figure out how to phrase it. "I know that because of what happened to you, you might hear or see certain things, and relate them to the bad experiences that you had before. And it's true that sometimes when people are getting to it, especially with the knot going in, things can get a little... intense. But it really is a pleasant part of being who we are if people are doing it of their own desire. If you take a look now, you can see that."

Jessica raised her head up a little. It was true, at least, that the noises that had terrified her had faded quickly, replaced by the intermittent sounds of joyful howling. Uncurling herself a little, she looked over the edge of the fence, to take in a scene that was much more serene than just a moment before. All of the couples were still embraced, but without any of the frantic, almost hurtful-looking motions that had been going on moments before. Instead, the partners seemed to be be cuddling and nuzzling each other, with both the men and the women sporting dazed, happy smiles that seemed to indicate they didn't have a care in the world. There wasn't a single tear or expression of pain or suffering anywhere that she could see, just pairs of people clinging happily to each other and seeming to revel in their closeness. It was almost the exact opposite of what she'd seen - or at least thought she saw - just a little while before.

"I... I don't understand, I was watching Mautaye, and it looked like she was screaming in pain, but now..."

Now, in fact, Mautaye was lying on the grass, her eyes closed and a sated grin spread across her muzzle, arching her head up towards the sky as her partner nuzzled in against her neck and licked happily at her cheek before joining her in an almost instinctual howl directed into the clear, star-filled sky.

Jessica took in the display, trying to reconcile the things she'd seen, as the teacher put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes, during something like this, expressions can be deceiving. Especially at the end, when the knot is going in, there is a lot of sudden sensation for a woman, and it can feel very overwhelming for a moment. That feeling isn't pain, though. It's... hard to describe, exactly, but it can be very intense, but at the same time feel very, very good."

'Wait... what's the knot?" Isabel chimed in, and Jessica noticed that most of the other girls had gathered around, suddenly interested in what the teacher had to say.

"Oh... yes, I guess I didn't fully explain after we had to end the session early. The knot is the round thing that swells up at the base of a man's penis when he's aroused. It keeps it from shrinking back down into the sheath during the mating ritual, and at the end of it that part goes inside the woman and makes sure that both of them are properly aligned and joined together to consummate it the way they're supposed to."

"It really goes all the way inside?" Melissa asked from the other side of the teacher. "And that... really doesn't hurt?"

"Not when a woman is in season. It's hard to explain until you experience it, but your body undergoes a lot of changes, and things that might not feel good or even hurt under other circumstances feel just right because your body has been prepared to handle them."

"But... why does it go in there?"

"Well, there are various biological and evolutionary reasons, but what it really does is join the two partners together, and helps them move beyond lust to love everyone that they partner with. Instead of an act of passion that ends abruptly, it ensures that there is not just an instinctual expression of mating, but a connection forged through a kind and loving embrace. It is in this way that we can become truly connected to each other, and through that connection, and that love, we can reach closer to the unity and harmony of life that the spirits ask of us."

Melissa didn't seem entirely happy about he vague nature of the reply, but left it at that, as the teacher gestured back down to the couples snuggled together below. "So, the knot keeps the partners joined together, and the embrace follows naturally for as long as that joining remains. Then, when it is done, the cycle can begin anew, for as long as a woman's season desires to drive it forward."

Sure enough, now that several minutes had passed, some of the couples were beginning to unfold from their tight embraces. Jessica watched, still feeling nervous about the whole thing, even though the people below did seem to be truly happy about what they'd just been through. Mautaye got up, padded around in a half-circle on all fours, and then stretched luxuriously, arching her back and curling her tail up as she let another howl of joyful release echo up into the night sky. From Jessica's viewpoint, though, the sight was still unsettling, as it placed Mautaye's privates on display. Instead of the tight patch of flesh that Jessica was familiar with, everything looked puffy and distorted, normally hidden ridges swollen and flared out in a sort of ragged, stretched O, the area between them glistening with a strange, milky white fluid oozing out from within the crimson folds. It looked so alien and inflamed that Jessica couldn't imagine how being... stretched like that could be enjoyable, but somehow it seemed to be exactly the state that Mautaye wanted to be in. Did heat really change you that much? And if it did... what had it done to her sister?

Jessica looked on, though, oddly transfixed at the strange, conflicting things happening below, even as she wondered if the events in the arena were just about over. Several of the men's shafts had rapidly retreated back into their sheaths and didn't seem to be making another appearance, and a number of the men headed back towards the archway as the women they left behind greeted each other warmly, cuddling and rolling around playfully on the grass near the fire. As one man left, though, another was allowed to emerge from the archway, shaft at the ready as he hurried over to where the women were congregating and waited for one of them to welcome him with open arms into their embrace.

Now that the first round was complete, though, things appeared to be somewhat more sedate, with none of the energetic chasing and sudden pouncing from before. Whatever edge of wild energy the women had brought in had been partially sated by their first pairing, and there was much less playful ceremony as the new group of men approached. Once one of the men had caught their eye, they seemed to move just enough to get in a position for the men to climb onto them, either rolling onto their backs and spreading their legs apart to let the man nestle his hips in between them, or onto their stomachs into an arched-back sort of posture, their rumps pushed up at an angle that allowed the men to climb on top of them. Mautaye, though, was still energetic enough that when a young man approached her, she patted the ground next to her and gestured for the man to lie down not far from where Jessica was watching, close enough that she was able to see Mautaye's ridges stretch and shudder for a moment as she straddled the man's shaft, conforming around it as it sank into her for a moment before the angle caused the joining to be hidden from view. She could hear Mautaye sigh happily, though, as her hips sank into place on top of his, and she watched as the girl leaned forward for a kiss, her breasts swaying back and forth against his chest as their bodies began to buck and roll against each other in a now-familiar rhythm.

Now that the strange, disconcerting "hunt" from before was done with, though, it was easier to see the love of the act coming through, and for a moment Jessica thought she could maybe even imagine herself taking part in them. Despite the parts of it that still unsettled her, she had to admit that there was a certain... excitement, somehow, to watching everything unfolding beneath her. The passion of it was undeniable, and it was hard to deny that the idea of having such closeness, especially with a guy she was attracted to, definitely had an appeal to it. This, at least in some form, was probably what her friends at her old school had often discussed in hushed, anticipatory whispers. Perhaps this was how she would have imagined it, too, if Frand hadn't come along and put a much different picture into her mind.

Jessica heard a muted cry from off to the side, and when she looked over, she realized that while the distress she'd experienced before had blinded her to it, the other girls in her group were affected by the scene as well. Most of them were watching the scene below with rapt fascination, although a couple of them seemed almost to be daydreaming themselves somehow into the scene below. Only Jessica, in her conflicted state, seemed to have both hands unoccupied - with each of the other girls, at least one hand was brushing gently across their breast or tucked intimately between their legs. Even this far removed, the other girls seemed to be getting into it some way or other, and for a moment Jessica felt strangely like the odd one out. The other girls were sufficiently lost in their observations and reveries, though, that none of them seemed to notice Jessica's relative reticence - and even if they had, considering the way they'd come to her aid when she was scared before, she knew they would be understanding.

Although she knew, now, that what was going on below was exactly what those participating in it wanted, she still felt a shock of anxiety run through her when the cadence of the motions below began to change, and she pressed her ears shut before and closed her eyes again before she could take in another round of the odd, haunting screams and seemingly agonized expressions that still terrified her. She managed not to curl up again, though, or shake with fear as she had before, instead trying to keep calm and reminding herself that it was just a normal part of things, and that when she opened her eyes everyone would be happy and snuggled together again. True to form, when she did dare to open her eyes again, everyone below was cuddled together in mutual bliss, and she was able to maintain her composure and remind herself that everything was okay.

They stayed up there, perched on the fence, as the women and changing groups of men went through another couple of rounds below, in a way that now seemed, if still strange, somehow routine. After that, some of the girls were apparently satisfied enough with the ritual, and began to make their way back towards the archway on wobbly legs. Mautaye was among them, and when the teacher noticed her departure, she ushered the girls back down the ladder so that they could greet their sister when she emerged back into the compound.

As they walked over to the archway, they watched as the group of women came out, still looking a bit dazed and undeniably happy, the area between their legs still puffed out on display and coated in a thick layer of glistening wetness, but at least gradually returning to its normal color. They spread out around them, walking back towards the other areas of camp, their gait steadying as they recovered from their unusual ordeal. The exception was Mautaye, who collapsed into the arms of Teilen and Heilaya, snuggling up happily against them and making a low, almost purring sound as she nuzzled her head unashamedly between Heilaya's breasts.

Heilaya, for her part, just grinned back down at Mautaye as she gently brushed the now-crumpled flowers out from her enthusiastically mussed headfur. "So," she asked, "how do you feel?"

"Warm," Mautaye said softly into her chest, just loud enough for Jessica to hear. "Really, really warm, deep inside... Mmm, soooo good..." Mautaye snuggled in closer, her tail swishing back and forth enthusiastically.

"It... it didn't hurt?" Jessica asked tremulously, and Mautaye shook her head vigorously against Heilaya, causing her to giggle.

"Mmm, no... the way I feel right now, I don't think pain is even possible..." She sagged forward between the two girls, her low, rumbling purr even softer this time as she glanced languidly around through half-lidded eyes. "So warm..."

Jessica followed along behind as the other girls wrapped their arms around Mautaye and helped to walk her stumbling, nearly-asleep form back to their tent. Looking over at her sated friend, all she could thing about was how different her reaction was to the one her sister had with her after that fateful night. From everything she had seen and heard, as far as she could tell the act itself had in both cases been mostly the same - and yet Mautaye had been enthusiastically joined with several men and was left ready to drift off into a happy, satisfied slumber, while her sister had been a crying wreck. Of course, her sister had been with Frand, which was probably all the explanation that was needed. And yet...

The other girls tucked Mautaye into her furs, where she was soon snoring gently, while a few enthusiastic cries rang out around her before falling silent as a few of the other girls, still intrigued by what they had witnessed, most likely used their hands to finish what they had started earlier before drifting comfortably off to sleep.

Jessica, though, lay awake in the darkness, what she had witnessed spinning around with memories of Frand and her sister in a maelstrom of confusion. Horrible thoughts continued to nag at her as she compared the two. While one was still more imagination than fact, the sounds she had heard were a problem that she couldn't ignore. In both cases, they had been the same, and if what she had seen tonight was women being happy and enjoying everything they were going through, did it mean... did it mean that Elizabeth had enjoyed everything that Frand had done to her in that room, too? And if so, why had she been so scared earlier that Frand was going to do it to her, and why had she seemed so hurt and practically inconsolable afterwards? There was something important between the two that was still missing, that she still didn't understand, and that made both things seem even more terrifying than they had been before. And if Mautaye had experienced her heat today, then it would probably be one of the other girls tomorrow, and another the day after... and soon, it would be her, walking into the area with the place between her legs all swelled up, and men lined up to hurt her... or please her... As much as she wanted to feel hopeful about it, at the moment, all she could feel was fear, and all she could do was close her eyes, try to blot it out, and wait for sleep to come before her thoughts and memories of what had happened managed to take her to an even darker place.

--

Frand walked up to the door of the child welfare office, feeling better than he had in a while. After all the betrayal that had eaten him up inside, he was on the verge of success; soon, his daughters would come back home to him, and the family he treasured so greatly would once again be proper and complete.

Jessica, of course, would be first. Her betrayal was the freshest in Frand's memory, and there was no question that rage at that betrayal simmered inside him, wanting to lash out at her, to give her the punishment that she deserved. But that, Frand knew, was something her would never allow to happen again. Not after what happened with Naomi. That part of his life was over; from now on, he would be a loving father. And maybe it was true that his idea of love didn't match up to what some other people thought, but it was his family and he would run it as he saw fit, just like his father had.

No, he wouldn't hit Jessica, or hurt her, or even yell at her. He would welcome her back with open arms, hug her, forgive her and let all that rage fall away. After all, there were far more important impulses than rage, with Jessica on the verge of fertility, just as her sister had been. Once she was back home, he would hold her tight, and give her the injection that would stoke the flames within her and bring her tightly into his embrace; and then he would service her, as a proper man would, and she would give him another strapping son and strengthen their family immeasurably.

Soon, that future would come happily into view, and Frand knew that he had Elizabeth to thank for a large part of it - for smoothing things over with the agency and feeding them the lies they needed to hear. After what had happened with Frand's other daughters, he had been worried that she might have given him up, especially when one of the agents had rather obviously decoyed him outside so the other one could talk with his daughter alone. After all, Frand wasn't completely oblivious, and he knew that it had been hard for Elizabeth to come to terms with her new role in the family, and the duties that came with them, especially when her heat had come on so abruptly and he had to take her quickly while the opportunity was there. He knew that some of it had been a burden for her, but it was a burden that all women had to bear for their families.

After all, Frand thought as he finished going through security and took a seat in the reception area, it wasn't like he'd been mean to her while it was going on. He wasn't like some of those bastards, who wanted breeding to be painful and humiliating, a punishment for the simple fact of being a woman. He'd made sure to do that part of it right, as he had with Naomi, and Elizabeth being her daughter meant that she shared enough of the behaviors, reactions and sensitive spots to know he was giving her body what it needed. Each time he'd bred her, he'd made sure that she was wet and ready to receive him, and if she wasn't, he'd touched her in just the right way to get her there. And yes, it was easy enough because the knot drove her just as wild as it did her mother, but he'd made sure that she got off every single time she was bred, and gave her lots of warm cuddling while the knot was inside to let her know how much she was loved, and how important she was wrapped snug around his shaft and accepting his life-giving seed within her.

Of course, Frand din't think much about the notion that maybe Elizabeth should have had a choice in being bred, or whether it was bad that he had used the combination of her heat and his strength to silence any protests before they could even start. In his eyes, the way that his father had taught him, he was the man of the house, and the rest of his family was naturally subordinate to him and honored to do their part and play their proper role in the family hierarchy. He, in turn, would take responsibility for them, provide for them, and protect them from the dangers of the outside world. It was true that in the past, he hadn't done enough to fulfill his role, and it had cost him dearly: one daughter gone, and a wife denied the joy of any more children. He was a different man now, though. The women in his life would of course perform their roles, and unquestioningly fulfill their duties both around the house and spread naked underneath him, but he would do right by them in return. No more beating, no more rage, no more passing out or flaking out of work or failing to keep the lights turned on. No, they really would be a proper, loving family again, and this was the first step towards making that happen.

The secretary called his name, and there was a certain pride and triumph to his swagger as Frand walked down the hall towards Caseworker Andrews' office. Today would be his first step towards showing the world that he was a true and proper man again, reclaiming his family as his own, and moving past the divisions that had so recently split it asunder.

The agent, Carlton, was indeed sitting in his office, and there was indeed a folder full of paperwork sitting on his desk. On the other hand, the two burly canine deputies, flanking him on either side while sitting on folding chairs that strained under their bulk, were considerably less inviting.

"Hey, what gives?" Frand asked, probably more loudly than he should have, but he was more than irked by the disrespect the agent was showing him. "You think I'm gonna attack you or something? You're the guy getting my kid back, for chrissakes!"

"Yeah, about that..." Carlton replied, his expression avowedly neutral. "Please take a seat."

Frand grumbled, but complied, sitting in one of the chairs across the desk from the unfortunate trio. "I don't get what the problem is. You said everything was fine, and we'd be moving forward!"

"Yeah, well... turns out I lied. Actually, you should probably be thanking me for the few extra days of freedom, but I didn't want to do anything directly after the home visit, given what Elizabeth told me about the gun you were carrying and your intent to use it."

Frand's eyes flashed with anger. Elizabeth too! Wasn't there anyone in his family he could trust?

"So... she betrayed me, then?" he asked, barely containing the anger in his voice.

"What, Elizabeth? No, not really. We got most of the story from Jessica. I don't know what you told your other daughter, but I had to put a lot of pressure on her before she'd confirm any of it. The only reason she said anything about the gun was because she didn't want to feel responsible for you shooting anyone."

Frand grimaced. Of course Elizabeth hadn't betrayed him - she was the one truly good daughter that he had. No, the only betrayal had come from the man sitting across from him, the so-called agent of family welfare, who'd strung him along while finding underhanded ways to force his family against him.

"What did you tell her?" he asked, through gritted teeth.

"Nothing that wasn't the truth. All I had to do was tell her the truth and look at her face, and I knew everything I needed to."

"Bullshit," Frand replied. "I didn't do anything wrong, and she didn't say otherwise."

"True," replied the agent, letting a slim smile creep onto his face. "Thing is, with Jessica's testimony and what I saw in your house, that was still enough to get a warrant for your blood and DNA. We're gonna run it, and do a familial match on the baby's DNA - we have an order to get that, too. Based on what I know so far, I'm betting that you're going to come back as the father." The agent looked at Frand, smirking. "Go ahead - tell me I'm wrong."

Frand just stared back at him in sullen silence, realizing where this was headed. "So, you're arresting me?"

"No. It's not time for that yet. Once we get the tests back, though, the evidence is gonna speak for itself. You do know, even if she'd actually consented, it would still be a crime, right? One for the fact that she's under the legal age of consent and you're way over it, and one for the fact that you did it with your own daughter. Yeah, shocking for this state, I know, but incest is, in fact, an illegal act. And that's before the whole multiple counts of rape thing, of course."

"Rape? Are you kidding me? I love my family! I don't rape them!"

"Right. And I suppose your daughter just welcomed you into her bed with open arms?"

Frand half-growled at the accusation, even as a certain part of him wondered if there was a glimmer of truth to it. Sure, she hadn't exactly done that, but she'd been in heat, and that, in his mind, was more than invitation enough. And besides, it wasn't like she'd protested, or fought back, or anything...

"...she didn't say no."

The agent just shook his head. "You actually think what you did was okay, don't you?"

"Of course it was okay!" Frand yelled at him. "That's how families work! I'm the man of the house, and I protect them, and they play their proper roles, and everything just works! How can you not know that?"

Somehow, that statement seemed to take the agent aback. "You... you really do think that's normal? That taking your daughter into your bed and forcing her to bear your child is how things are supposed to go?"

"Well... yeah! Naomi couldn't have kids any more, and I wanted a son, so it was Elizabeth's turn to fill that role. That's how my dad did it, and he raised us all in a right and proper family. I'm just doing what's right in order to keep our family together. After all, a happy family means everyone plays their part, and the man of the house makes sure that they do, while watching over them and taking the responsibility that only he can. It took me a while, but I finally realized that was the best way to keep my family together."

Carlton just looked at him like he was crazy, and even the deputies were looking at him funny. He wasn't crazy, though. How clueless were they, that he had to sit there and explain how families work? He had to convince them, though. They thought he was wrong, and he had to show them that he was right. He had to be right, because if he was somehow wrong, and they were telling the truth about how the world saw things instead of telling a cruel, twisted lie, then it meant that... what he's done... No. He couldn't afford to think that way. His dad had raised him the right way, and he knew that he was in the right, no matter what bullshit they were spouting.

"I haven't been perfect all the time, I know, but it's working! Our family's closer than ever before, and everything's finally working out right. I haven't hit anyone in months. I haven't had a drink for weeks. Realizing how things should be, realizing that I needed to be the father I was raised to be, means that everything's been turning around. I'm working steady now, there's food on the table all the time, the lights stay on and everyone's happy. I'm making a good home for my family. I'm sacrificing some of the things I love just to be a better husband and father to them. Don't you get it? This is the way things are supposed to be. Jessica is a part of that, too - yeah, she got spooked because I didn't explain to her well enough what was going on, that it was about love instead of something else, but I know that she can't possibly be better off with those... those savages in the woods than she would be safe at home with her family. That's where she belongs, and you know it, so can we just do the paperwork and let me keep my family together?"

"I..." Carlton stammered, and Frand grinned back pridefully. Perhaps, after all, he had gotten through to the man.

"You... you really believe that. How the... what the hell kind of family did you grow up in?"

"A right and proper one, like I said! I mean yeah, my dad kicked me out after I punched him for not sharing my sisters with me, and I thought he was a bastard for that, but now I get why he did it. Now I understand. He was the man of the house, so their womanly duties were for him and him alone, and the reason he sent me out into the world was to become my own man, with a family of my own. He was harsh sometimes, but he taught me how important it was to take responsibility for your family."

Again, Carlton shook his head. "Wow, just... wow. You know, I wish this was the first time I'd heard this story, but... I fuckin' hate this county. I fuckin' hate it." He looked back at Frand, almost... pityingly?

"Frand... I don't quite know how to say this in a way you'll believe, but you're dead wrong on how families are supposed to work. And even if you don't like my opinion, the fact of the matter is that the law doesn't agree with you, either. You can justify it in your own mind all you want, but it doesn't change the fact that you have violated the law, as well as the family you claim to hold so dear."

The agent slid a piece of paper across the table to him, as Frand growled low in his throat. What was it going to take to convince these idiots he was in the right?

"That's a restraining order issued by a judge, to keep you from doing any further harm to your family while a detective from the sheriff's office completed the investigation." Carlton paused, rummaging in his desk drawer, before removing some sticklike electronic thing with a flashing light on the top and placing it on the desk next to the order. "Thing is, though, we have this whole conversation on tape - and since you came in here voluntarily, and all but volunteered a confession to your role in all this, I'm pretty sure there's enough for the deputies to just go ahead and arrest you now."

Frand just glared back at him, the building rage fighting against the small, nagging voice in his mind telling him that the agent might be right about what he'd done. "You just don't get it, do you? I'm the guy responsible for keeping my family going. Naomi can't do it. Neither can my daughters. They depend on me for everything. You're gonna stick me in a box and leave them to waste away?"

"No... no, I don't think we're going to do that. Since they're the victims of domestic abuse, I'm sure there are plenty of resources that will be able to help them. However, I can't in good conscience allow you to go back to them after what you've done already."

The agent stood, and the deputies got up as well, starting to walk over to where Frand was sitting. "You know, this whole time, you've been talking about responsibility - being a man, standing up and being responsible for your family. Well, now it's time to take responsibility for yourself, and for the choices you've made."

Frand stood up as well, but he wouldn't be bowed, not by the man in front of him. He puffed out his chest pridefully. "Arrest me if you're gonna, then," he said, looking the agent square in the eyes and letting him know who was the only proper man in the room. "Say whatever lies you want about me. My family loves me, and I love them. They'll realize the error of their ways and stand behind me. They'll make you give me back to them. We're a family, and we support each other. You're the one who's scheming. You're the one who's trying to break up apart just so you can make yourself look good. But we'll show you. I'll show you just how strong my family is, and believe me, buddy, it's a lot stronger than you, no matter how many goons you have around to back you up."

Frand jammed his arms out behind him. "Cuff me already, you bastards. I'm not the smartest guy ever, yeah, but I know my rights. I want to talk to a lawyer, and once I do, you guys are gonna be sorry about how wrong you are."

"Very well," Carlton replied, sighing as he sank back into his chair. "If I were you, I'd make sure to tell him to consult with a psychiatrist. Whether you think so or not, you've had kind of a fucked-up life, and a childhood you never should have had to go through. It's no excuse, though, and this sort of family dynamic, this cycle passed down through generations... if you do end up siring a boy, that cycle needs to be broken before it consumes him as well. Frand, I... I can't say that I'm sorry for you exactly, but... it was easy for you to go down the path that you knew, perhaps, but you also had the power to be your own man and to do things a different way, and I'm not sorry at all for intervening before anyone else can get hurt."

The cuffs clicked home around Frand's wrists, the cold metal digging through the fur to chill the skin beneath. What he'd feared would happen, then, had finally come to pass, despite his best efforts to keep himself and his family safe. He knew, though, that the battle was still far from over. He wouldn't let them drag or force him. He'd walk out of his office under his own power and with his head held high. He'd show the world just how right he was, and once he was vindicated, he knew that his family would all return, the bond between them stronger than ever. As he walked between the deputies, though, with each step that small voice in his head grew slowly but steadily louder. As the deputies ducked his head into the patrol car, though, an image of Elizabeth's face flashed to the front of his mind - her under him, her face pained for a moment by one of his thrusts before the image abruptly faded. As he settled into the seat, an unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty gnawed anxiously at his chest. Everything he'd learned growing up, everything he'd seen, told him that the path he'd chosen was the one that was proper, the one he'd been destined to take, but...

What if he was wrong?

---

(

For additional reference...

The journal with Frand's backstory

The alternate, non-canon ending where Frand gets punched in the head

)