Chapter 8

There comes a time when things are bad enough that emotions shut down. There is no point in imprecating or crying. Fear has changed its grip; if it is present, it is there as a numbness driving away all power to see hope. Joy, happiness and comfort have long-since departed.

Standing there, gazing on the destruction of the nursery, I reached that point. Fully a third of the children were dead, bodies stinking, wasted and twisted in the shadows’ grasp.

The remainder were crying and frightened. Several were curled into fetal position, rocking back and forth.

Passion mill was doomed. no one could shine forth in the light of passion after witnessing the scene before me. Even a description would dampen passion at surrounding communities.

Yet, if we did not shine forth in the brightest passion soon, the failure of our boundary would spread and the web completely unravel. If children were dyeing, that meant that the boundary had been weak enough, long enough for children to become shadow-touched. That suggested grim things for adults who had spent time outside the bounding at night.

If Dolphin Frolicking Unchecked were right, and with the evidence now before us, who could doubt her, taking the children to another bounding would almost certainly not help. With the limited mechanisms for connection available to them, how could children hope to rebuild sufficient strength separated from their community? Evacuation was equally pointless for the adults.

Glancing at Lord Morgan, I saw he had drawn the same conclusions.

I knew what must be done.

Conceived by Cock in Cunt Undefended had followed us in. She was still able to react to the horror of the situation.

I turned to her. “You must be strong. I have an important task for you. Without your strength, these children and Passion Mill entire shall certainly be lost.”

“What, my lady?”

“You and perhaps one, possibly two others must protect and comfort these children. We cannot let the community learn of this until morning.

“We have made good progress today, but our lovers work is not yet completed. If our losses here are known, the community will fail.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You must. Let us plan.”

“I will try, my lady.”

“You will succeed.”

Lord Morgan looked very grim by this point.

I made a plan because I must. It was not good, but it needed to serve. There was an empty room near by. We’d recruit one other, keep the hall cleared and move the children who were still alive. we could establish a boundary around that room and Mom’s Cunt could spend the night providing what comfort there was to the children. It wouldn’t be enough: if somehow Passion Mill survived, the community would be scarred for generations.

I tasked Lord Morgan with figuring out how to make sure no one discovered the carnage we’d be leaving behind in this room. He too contemplated telling me that he was not sure he could succeed; a look quelled that impulse. It’s needed; he must succeed.

Conceived in Cunt Undefended requested her mother’s help. I went to find Field Under Foot. Within an hour, we had everyone moved. The two women cuddled with the remaining children. Everyone craved touch.

Lord Morgan had left a sign on the original nursery and locked the door. He assured me it would be sufficient. I suspected his confidence had as much to do with necessity and as little with reality as my own.

“This has reached a level where should you find the whereabouts of your demoness, you, Mane and I shall pay her a visit. Short of such help, our choices are grim,” I said.

He nodded. “The gravity of our situation has exceeded anything the nobles have ever solved before.”

I moved to the next order of business. “Now it’s time for you to fuck me.”

“Are you shadow-touched?” He paused, perhaps realizing as I did that his question was more real than either of us like to think. “What kind of shit is coming out of your mouth? Even if every act of slut and lover that has ever shined forth was concentrated into one lady, I could not fuck her now. How can you think of lover’s work after that?”

“t’sneeded. Without passion, boundary’ll fail’n flock’ll be lost. Course, I can’t find horny either, but ‘m girl’n can be taken anyway.”

Lord Morgan looked at me. “t’sneeded? What are you saying?”

I reached through the fog of my mind. “It’s needed. Saying from Shepherd’s Crook, small community way past East Gap. Things for survival’re t’sneeded.”

I needed t’make em see. Passion’s needed like n’er before.

“I thought I heard something similar once. I knew a woman from Shepherd’s Crook at the Scholium. She didn’t talk about home much, but bits of the dialect stuck.”

I took a deep breath and tried to focus on Lady Ashley. I longed to submerge myself into Shepherd Girl’s simplicity. “Look, everyone’s passion is needed. Especially the focuses. If you can’t fuck me, then there must be people I’ve irritated or who are naturally into taking someone by force. People who wouldn’t mind that neither of us is open or connected.”

“I don’t think ... no, I couldn’t submit to that.”

“No. Be my safety. Encourage them to use me. Let them know what they want is okay. Help them.”

“There seems to be nothing of safety in what you propose.”

“Keep my body safe, sure.”

“Submitting to that without strength will rip you apart.”

“I’ll try to heal.”

He glared. “If I’m going to even consider this, I’ll tell you what’s t’sneeded. You will put yourself together with the same determination you use to drive Undefended Cunt and me. You will demand the same success from yourself, you will heal yourself with the same zeal that you used last spring, and you will safe word before you spend so much of yourself that you can’t get back. That’s what’s t’sneeded.”

“Okay.”

“Say it. Use this word t’sneeded that means so much to you.”

“t’sneeded f’r shepherd girl t’heal f’r the future, f’r er t’save f’r the trek back.”

“Shepherd girl?”

“Me.”

“There’s a story there.”

“Yes. Not now ... unless you’d really enjoy forcing it out.”

“Fuck no!.” He muttered softly, “I do not know if the world can survive you and Lucinda getting together.” I wondered what he meant.

He said, “does that even mean what I insist you promise?”

“Yah!”

“I am so going to regret this. The fuckless truth is that you’re right: we are doomed if we cannot rebuild that boundary and put as much into the web as we can. You better live up to your promise to put yourself back together, because I’m sure this so-called plan will tear you apart. I’ll do what I can. You will do what I say and will follow all my instructions until you use your safe word; most of my instructions will help you keep your promise.”

I began to relax. He saw; we would find passion somehow. This didn’t have to be my problem. “Yes, m’lord.”

“What’s your safe word?”

“Celeste will do.” That should get me out of a lover’s space quick enough.

“Okay. You will use your safe word if you are in physical danger, or if you are hurting yourself more than you will be able to heal. You will use your safe word if you believe you are not respected as a slut and lover. You will use your safe word if you think that your lovers will not respect your joining.”

“Ah, yes.”

“I cannot believe I’m doing this. I cannot believe I’d hurt someone I care about this much.”

I wondered who he cared about.

“Actually, there is something I can do for you. Open wide.”

He sat atop me, offering me his cock. If he wanted me to suck him, why couldn’t he fuck? I took his cock into my mouth and began to suck.

My mouth filled with his warm, acrid pee. It began to dribble out around his cock. “Do you want to swallow?” he asked. I guessed I could. I began to swallow.

“As you drink from me, open to me fully. Trust me; share yourself completely. Trust me; open to what I offer you fully,” he said. He went on to himself, “Please be able to open to the web. This isn’t going to work, but if you can’t open there’s not a chance.”

Of course I could open to him. I wove us together as I drank. I felt his care, his worry, his determination. I let loose my emptiness.

He gritted his teeth. “Be careful what you ask for,” he muttered.

Lord Morgan told me to stand and accompany him. He found Mane. He asked about Matthew; he didn’t like the answer he got.

Mane departed. Clover entered. She got her wish: she told me to pee for her. I did; she drank eagerly from my cunt. I felt her joy. She loved the taste. She thought she was serving me and enjoyed offering her openness. She admired me; she rejoiced in her role as slut.

Two people I didn’t recognize came in and suckled from my tits. I guessed that was good: I hadn’t been milked since before dinner. I felt the web grow from their attention. Someone must be working on the boundary somewhere. The rate of damage slowed.

Smooth-Tumbled Stone entered and spoke with Lord Morgan. Stone was gleeful. He looked at me with lust. They spoke more.

Lord Morgan approached. “I’m sure you’re unsurprised to learn that Stone would enjoy taking you. I’ve told him that you’re offering yourself. I pointed out you are good at surrender and strong enough to be safe. I hope I did not exaggerate too much. He said he’d particularly enjoy your company. I need you to focus and pay attention so you can follow my directions. Also, I think he’d like it if you feel what he’s doing. Can you do that?”

“I can.”

“I’m going to bring you to Smooth-Tumbled Stone’s quarters and tie you.”

Stone, Lord Morgan and I walked into the room. Hay was sitting on the water pot, cleaning herself.

Stone said, “Why did you go use that. I was thinking the slut could drink your pee.”

“O. I needed to make water. You didn’t tell me.” She thought for a moment. “I guess she could still drink it.”

Lord Morgan sucked in his breath.

“That’s gross,” Stone said. “Course they say she likes pee. Sure. Crawl over there and drink as much as you can. We wouldn’t want you to be thirsty.”

Hay stood to make room and I got down to crawl towards the potty. I hoped that Passion Mill was good about only making water in water pots; most places are.

I moved aside the seat. There was a 10 liter bucket, about half full of urine. I wondered if the potty had been emptied since Matthew made water this morning. I supposed that he’d been teasing me enough that counted as peeing rather than making water. Still, most of what was in that bucket was clearly urine not pee.

I bent forward and pushed my face into the bucket. I tried to drink, but kept getting my face caught in clumps of body paper Hay had used to clean herself. Eventually, by shoving my head around and pushing away paper with my tongue, I started to drink.

The taste was not unusual. Somehow, though, I felt more vulnerable and less slutty than when I’m used to drinking pee. Stone enjoyed my show immensely; his excitement was feeding the web. Hay offered the web a mixture of fascination and horror. Lord Morgan’s feelings were too complex for me to understand.

When I drank my fill, I had to clean paper off my face with my hands. Lord Morgan handed me a wet cloth.

Then, he took me to the bed and began his rope work. My ankles were tied to my legs, knees immobilized. Then my legs were spread and tied to the bed. My wrists were tied together and to the bed above my head. As a result, my cunt, flanks, thighs and tits were all vulnerable and exposed along with the rest of my front.

Stone stood at the foot of the bed, excited from my show. He gazed down at me, lust in his eyes. From him, I felt lust, but anger and hurt too.

“You’re nothing special. Just a slut like the rest of us. What gives you and your lord the right to come in here and put yourselves over me, disrupting me and my mate?”

“Stone, they didn’t,” Hay said.

“Sure they did. You telling me you’d invite some lord in here to put me aside and submit to him like that? You’re saying I’d put up with that if I didn’t have to?”

Hay shook her head mutely.

“If you’re uncomfortable, speak out,” I said.

“Right! Like that would work. I’m not hear to have you talk back. I’m here to see how you like it when you have to be open and vulnerable like you’ve been forcing on us. How did you like drinking from our water pot? Sounds like one of those vulnerable things you were telling us to do this morning.”

“I drank.”

“Still, I don’t hear you talking about how great it was. Enough of your talking though: you’re here to be a toy, to be used. Lord Morgan, have you a gag for this slut?”

He wanted a slut toy? I could do that. Yes. T’sme, good slut toy. T’sneeded t’build passion. Easier than thinking ‘bout the children’n our doom.

Morgan was talking t’Hay; she left te’ room.

“Until Hay returns, I suspect if you tickle her feet or perhaps under her arms, you can keep her busy enough that she’s not talking,” Lord Morgan said.

Stone went after m’right foot. First, I didn’t feel much. Need t’ feel, lord said. I relaxed’n it began t’tickle. Soon I was struggling’n trying t’catch my breath. Stone smiled’n began on te’ other foot. I struggled t’find a pattern, but he kept changing. I surrendered t’sensation, m’awareness filled with struggles, screams’n pants. Stone ‘joyed his power, m’reaction.