The lathe stands before you solid, restless,
Holding half the power of a plow-horse
The log offers itself to you, accepts the bite
Of the honed steel in your hand, held steady
Against the rest. You bend towards your goal.
Turning wood is craft, you’ll find— not art; )although
You’ll feel the spinning wood pull and catch
Your soul in ways you never dreamed.) You match
A shape that you’ve designed already
(It helps to keep your benchmark well in sight).
You know when you’re finished— (unlike, of course
This damned poem that I tinker with, endless.)
Was way to damn hot, also the makeup didn’t go on as well this time as the first.
But the pantaloons were comfortable enough. And the horns make me very happy!
Pouch by Kristi Smart.
This was just a test run of the makeup, and whoah– it does everything I want it to do!
Prompts: Plushy/Furry (furry, in this case)
summary: Dusty is all about making women’s wishes come true. But will anyone want to make her wishes happen?
content notes: dirty talk, foreplay, plans for the future. Not very explicit.
“You know, I kind of want… I want a girl who would just… follow. Trust me, yanno? I never thought I was all that dominant, but I guess I got some notions.”
“Baby, you have to be more specific,” Gwen said. “You always say you have to say what you want to get it. Give me a for instance.”
“Open the curtains, will you princess?” Dusty flopped into the sofa in the darkening room. Gwen pulled the cord obligingly, and stood for a moment watching the city lights wink on. The silence drew on until she turned back. Dusty was watching her. Her eyes glittered a little bit in the gloaming. “Yeah,” she said apropos of nothing.
“Dusty? Tell me,” Gwen perched on a tall stool so that the butch would have to look up at her.
Dusty looked puzzled, or embarrassed, two emotions that Gwen had never seen in her before. She looked away at last, tilting her face towards the ceiling and laughed silently. Then she spoke.
“When the Moon Sow
When the Moon Sow comes to season
Ay! She wants a big 1
Wants the Big Boar hevvy on her
Ay yee! Big Boar what makes the groun shake
Wyld of the Woodling with the wite tusk
Ay yee! That wyld big 1 for the Moon Sow.”
Gwen shivered, listening to the odd inflection, and seeing Dusty’s expression solemn for once.
She met Gwen’s eyes. “You want to be the Moon Sow, and I’ll be the Big Boar?”
“Tell me,” Gwen said.
“I want to make these costumes, like. Maybe bodysuits? Painted with black spots. I like those kinds of pigs. I gonna have the arms with closed hands, shaped like trotters. But the crotch will be wide open. And a pair of those shoes with heels that are so high you can’t stand up in them, keep you on your hands and knees. I got the way the hoods could be made in my head. They would have floppy pig ears, and gags shaped like pig snouts.”
“Both of us?” Gwen asked— quietly, so as not to break the spell. She had never heard Dusty talk this way. Dusty was the one you went to when you wanted to bottom, and she was always enthusiastic and willing. But now, she was talking about what she wanted— and such a strange thing to want!
“Yeah, I guess we’d need some help, huh?” Dusty chuckled. “Well, you know me, I wanna do this where people can be watching.”
“So, I go into season?” Gwen prompted. Dusty started up, staring into Gwen’s eyes, lit up and challenging.
“You serious, babe? Would you let people see you on your hands and knees, with a curly tail over your pussy, and eight titties hanging under you?”
Gwen snapped her mouth shut before the words came out. After a moment, she said carefully; “And what would you be doing?”
“I’d be crawling after you, with my snout as close to your ass as I can get it,” Dusty said. “With my dick hanging out for you. You ever seen a pig’s dick? It’s real long and got a corkscrew twist at the end. For reals. Pigs tails don’t really twist, but their dicks do. I want to make a harness, get a pig dick made that’s got one of those big nuts that goes into your pussy— my pussy. You ever seen a boar’s balls? Look like a pair of water balloons hanging off his butt. I’m going to feel those things banging into my legs every move I make.”
Gwen groaned aloud.
“You like that princess?” Dusty said in satisfaction. ”Hah, gotcha.”
“Tell me more,” Gwen made her voice go low.
“Pigs, it’s all about her. He might get his teeth in her but not until she gives the go ahead. It’s all about him snuffling into her twat… see if he can get her going. She decides wants it, she stands for him, and he… You have the Big Boar heavy on you.”
Smirking, she leaned back once more. “Whyn’t you c’mere, and sit on my lap.”
Gwen stood up. “We could get someone to be the keeper.” She began unbuttoning her blouse. “We could pen you up in a cage for a while.”
“And your keeper could walk you in on a chain.” Dusty suggested. “Or maybe you’ll be in the cage next to me. You turn your back and I’d be right up against the bars trying to get at the sweet thang.”
Her blouse on the floor, Gwen unbuckled her belt and undid her fly. “I could drive you fucking crazy.” She took two steps back, her hips swaying. “Crazier than you already are, even.”
“You could,” Dusty agreed. Her eyes glittered in the twilight coming through the window. “You’re gonna,if you don’t come here.”
“Hush.” Gwen felt her jeans slipping down over her hips. Turning in place, she unclipped her bra and turned back. “I’ll come when I’m good and ready.” She let the lace hit the floor and ran her fingers over her nipples.
“Oh princess, you can’t get away with that,” Dusty growled. “You can’t even feel that gentle shit. Give ‘em a good pinch.”
Gwen pushed her jeans the rest of the way off. “You do it,” she suggested, climbing onto the sofa to straddle Dusty, who obliged, twisting each one until Gwen howled delightedly. Dusty raised her head to capture the noise in her mouth, and they were kissing sloppily. Gwen let herself down over her lover. Dusty’s hot mouth ranged down her neck, nipping and suckling.
“Come on, sit on daddy’s face,” she said, once she had created a necklace of bites across Gwen’s chest and Gwen was whimpering and squirming and wet. Gwen pulled herself up and braced against the arm rest of the sofa.
“I never thought you would be into furry kink,” she commented while Dusty wriggled herself down.
“What’s a furry?” Dusty’s voice came up from between her thighs.
“You don’t know?” Gwen began, but whatever she was going to say was gone from her mind, driven away by that strong agile tongue and sucking lips. Gwen wondered if Dusty would really make the costumes, and if she herself would go through with it, alongside Dusty. The tall woman was kinkier than anyone Gwen had ever met. But she was always worth it.
(The poem “The Moon Sow” is from Russel Hoban’s amazing novel “Riddley Walker“)
Courtesy of another literotica.com friend, Wet Special comes this rather Tia Dalma-looking version of the Healer
my friend who goes by the handle of Throbbs drew this version of Despina Jones. It’s close — but not quite how I see her. I like how he put all of her agile arms in front, though. I hadn’t thought of that. I imagine they are anchored into her mons and pubic bone. They could be longer… And I bet her heavy arms have some sort of fancy configuration on the tip.
Prompts: St. Valentine’s day, tentacles, cyclone
Notes: I would never have come up with this character, her friends and family and her world if it were not for the weird grouping of prompts that I got on my first tictac tales card. I have at least three more stories half way finished, and I am so excited!
Despina doesn’t know why her symbiote has thrived for more than twenty years. But she’s certainly not complaining!
Tentacle fiction from the tentacles’ point of view.
“Despi baby, I don’t wanna go out there; it’s so windy!” But she came anyway, laughing and holding onto her kirtle in one hand, batting at her hair with the other. My tentacles were fucking flying, loving the gusty humid and warm weather. I led her around the wall, and showed her the bower I’d made.
“Happy Valentine’s day, sweetheart,” I said.
Lissa laughed, as I knew she would. She toed the red and pink camillia petals that covered the raw soil of what would become a heart-shaped herbal garden come the real spring. I knew that the cold would descend on us again before that— but the unseasonably warm weather inspired me to get out and hoe and dig.
And fuck my bright girl. I flopped onto the cool earth and used my heavy arms to pull her over me. One holding her head, two supported her waist, one pulled at each thigh, holding her up over my head so I could see, and one left over to encroach on her sweet pussy. My fine arms distributed themselves on her nipples, her clit, the sole of one flailing foot, and the rest just got busy. Lissa sighed happily and relaxed into my hold. I love how she trusts me.
“C’mere” she said, reaching down to me. I let her down onto myself and wrapped my human arms around her shoulders. I nuzzled into her pussy, using a heavy arm and a feedpalp for lubrication, not that she needed much—she had a lot of wet– and I sent in my other feedpalp as well, stretching her entrance gently while I sucked up some of her juices. Carefully, I felt for that spot up front and in deep and nudged it hard. Lissa cried out “Oh!’ and her eyes flew open as her pussy drenched my palps.
“Mmm baby,” she said and wriggled her hand down to where they all spilled out of my body, out of my pussy. Her busy fingers sought out the nexus and coaxed the cloaca open and then it was my turn to holler and wriggle, and then we were moving, my human arms and legs and all of my symbiote’s arms as well, my girl and the damn world was moving—all wrapping around her taste and smell and heat. My feedpalps drank her down and– yeah, well, there was a lot of noise.
Lissa brought her hand up to show me the juices I’d coated it with—and then she shivered suddenly.
“Oh—”she said, and then we were being pummeled by hail. “Ouch, fuck!” she shrieked. I lifted her off me and we ran for the shelter of the avocado tree, yelping at the ice balls that bounced and slammed into us.
“I TOLD you it was windy!” Lissa shouted over the rising wind.
“”You didn’t tell me it was a cyclone!” I hollered back.
“Despi, do something!”
The wind was whipping the hail sideways, right under the tree. We ducked to the leeward side of the big trunk.
“It really is a cyclone,” I said. “Or tornado, or something?”
I backed her up against the tree trunk, and hugged her with my human arms. That would keep the hail from shredding her skin, at least. My agile tentacles retreated, and I shot my heavy ones out to wrap around us and the tree, lengthening them further than I had ever tried to do before. The pelting hail hurt like fuck. I could feel it cutting tiny gashes into the shuddering skin.
“Lemme go a second, Despi,” Lissa said. I wasn’t willing to do that.
“My kirt, baby—hold on—“ She tugged the length of denim loose. “Can you bring one end around—get your arms under it—maybe?”
On of my agile arms took hold of one edge and pushed it out and around till I could grab it with a senstip and pull it back to us. Once she had hold of it I threw my heavy arm back out there and yes, it did help. Although the hail still thudded against the fabric with bruising force, I wasn’t being sliced to ribbons. The howling of the wind got louder and louder—and then stopped. My ears popped.
“We’re in the eye!” Lissa said shakily.
“We got to get to the house now.”
“No!” Lissa said. “No—you know how fast the wind stopped? It will start again just that fast, only going the other way. Let’s wiggle ourselves to the other side and just— be ready—”
We did that. And we rearranged the kirtle length while we were at it, folding part of it over so that the worst-hit of my tentacles would be a little more protected from the coming ordeal.
“All I wanted to do was fuck you silly,” I grumbled. I nosed into her neck, finding her warm skin under her cold wet hair.
“Hella Valentine’s day present!” Lissa chuckled.
“Damn.” I looked up. “No avocados this year; the leaves have all been shredded.”
We mourned the avocados together. I let a couple of my agiles out to explore between her legs.
“Incorrigible” she chided, but shifted for me. Then the light went green again, and I tensed everything tight.
The first blast of wind scared the fuck out of me. It was like being slammed with an iron bar, and I could hardly breathe. I could only think about holding on, my tentacles cramped down in a desperate effort to keep us in place. I was in tears before it ended. Lissa kept talking even though I couldn’t understand what she was saying over the screaming wind. I could barely hear her voice in my ear, soothing and calm despite the tremors I could feel in her body against mine. I could feel the wind slowing. And it seemed that it was slowing just faster than my dwindling strength… just… thankfully… a little bit easier each moment….
“Oh crap,” I mumbled. “I never want to do that again!”
Lissa grunted her agreement. The wind was still gusting, and there was an icy mist needling us, and we were stumbling back to the house— slower than I ever remember moving. My human legs were doing most of the work. My tentacles kept shuddering and jerking and trying to pull themselves back into a more normal configuration. Lissa had my arm over her shoulders, and two of my tentacles as well.
“Stupid, stupid, oh my land, you stupid squid!” a familiar voice roared. Berend came tromping through the mud and scooped me up. as easily as if I didn’t weigh nearly as much as he did.
“Is everyone okay?” I asked.
“Oh yah, we were all comfortable. Except for worrying to death about YOU TWO IDIOTS!” His voice hurt my ears and the little shake he gave me hurt everything. But at that moment, I loved Berend, with his big afro and big boots and his mottled skin and his everlasting scowl— so much. I cried all over again, curled up into his bony chest.
“You, lassie, can you walk?”
“Yah, I didn’t do so much of the work,” Lissa said through her shivers. “I c-can walk— I’m sso c-cold!” She grabbed his shoulder. “Iss there hot water? And something for the t-tentacles to feed on. Oh, Despi, be okay!”
“I’m okay baby, just…” Just mortified, really. But my embarrassment was nothing compared to the relief I felt when my brother deposited me in the warmth of the house. Arpha, his new manpartner and Adrina his longtime womanpartner rushed about with towels and sandwiches and a bucket of chow for my symbiote which I attacked—my tentacles were so hungry that my mouth watered. I sprawled like a slob, feeding, and listened to the water filling the big tub, and Lissa’s shivers dying as she warmed up. We could not stop touching each other, little touches—making sure we were both there.
“She saved our lives!” Lissa said again. She was sitting behind me in the tub, scrubbing foam into the roots of my dreads. “Duck down, baby.” I sploshed water over my head and captured her hands in mine. Pulling her arms around in front to make her hug me, so I could see her golden tan glowing against my dark skin.
“She risked your lives, Lis.” Berend repeated.
“I know, and I won’t do it again.” Berend snorted but I had had the scare of my life. I had never been confronted with a challenge as dangerous as that one before.
Arpha sat on the tub edge, his gentle hands running over one of my heavy arms. “This skin is damned tough,” he said. “Lucky. Are these bruises?”
“If you poke one I will slap you, cause it hurts.” I told him. “anyway, I did get some cuts but they healed fast once I fed…”
“Does that happen a lot?” Arpha wanted to know. He had about a thousand questions about my symbiote. And sometimes they were hard to answer. I don’t know why it was still alive after more than twenty years, but I could tell him that it had never really stopped growing. I couldn’t tell him why my tentacles changed hue once in a while. Or how they had become so much a part of me that I could orgasm through them.
Lissa was telling him about how we used her kirtle to shield my tentacles from the worst of it.
“I’m not so much a superhero,” I said. “I nearly lost us… I gotta get stronger!”
“Oh, come on,” Berend said. “Do you know how fast that wind was?”
“No,” I admitted. “How fast?”
“I don’t know yet, but tornadoes can go like— a hundred miles an hour. More. When we get the intel, you will know exactly how strong you are.”
“You’re super hero enough for me,” Lissa said and hugged me.
Despina, thank you for talking with me!
“Wow, you’re welcome but really thank you! You know, I hardly ever get to talk to so many people at one time.”
I guess the first thing is to explain to people what you are– who you are.
“Okay, I’m a symbiote, I’m two critters rolled into one– a human being, and a cephaloid. it’s not an octopus or a squid even though some people call us that. It’s actually more like… well, what I’ve been told is that it is a bunch of critters itself, that all symbioted together? So that made it easy for them to join with humans. Some humans. Doesn’t always work.”
Symbiosis means that both organisms benefit from their shared living. How do you benefit, and how does your cephaloid?
“ I benefit… Well, I get to use all of these limbs. I have five what I call heavy arms, that are real strong– I can lift things, pull myself right up off the ground, pick up my girlfriend. (laughs) I can walk on them, too, faster than with my human legs. And then the agile arms– I got three that eat, three that feed, seven that can manipulate stuff… like fingers, only two feet long! All of my arms can scent– what I call scent, they sort of see smells, and the electric currents on people’s skin.”
“You can tap into your symbiont’s experiences?
“I sense it. We are all one critter now. There is no difference between us. So other benefits are that I stay real healthy. I don’t age very much. I dispose of dying cells in my body and regrow the healthy ones.”
Which is rather how your surgery services work, is that correct?
“Yeah. I hope that the folks that hear me don’t get upset by this stuff, but I kinda want people to know how it works.”
We should preface this by pointing out that Healer Despina has helped hundred of people survive illnesses that would have killed them otherwise.
“Yeah, cancers and infections, failures of organs, stuff like that. I can’t cure everything, but I’m still learning stuff.”
What Despina does is enter the body of her patient.
“I cut a tiny hole in. It’s smaller than most surgeons would have to cut. I can slide one or two of my eatpalps– my eating tentacles– in, and I look for the disease and I dissolve those cells with enzymes and suck them out. Then I make a chemical that encourages the healthy cells to grow a little faster. It’s kinda slow, like it can take a day sometimes, but it’s very thorough…”
You suck out the dissolved cells?
“Yeah, through my eatpalps. I eat the bad cells. That’s the food my symbiont eats.”
“Oh yeah, a lot of people look like that when they hear that part. But you know you asked what the benefit to my symbiont is, and that’s what it is. These things were predators, and they had to subdue their prey and then wait for the bug or little animal or whatever– to liquify, and who knows how long that might take? And they might get chased away or something, you know, out in the wild. So the benefit for her–”
“Well, yeah. Anyways, the benefit is that she doesn’t have to hunt, her prey comes to her. I have a steady stream of people who come to me to be cured of things and each one of them is food for us. For me.”
You know, there used to be people called “misery eaters…”
“Oh, wow. Wow, that’s … yeah, I like that…”
Can I describe you to our audience?
I am looking at a nude woman. She is very dark-skinned, and carries a magnificent head of dreadlocks. She is a bit– if you don’t mind, Despina– a little bit thick in the waist, where her symbiont, as I understand it, is carried. She is sitting with her legs spread wide apart, because all of her tentacles emerge from between her legs. It is a strange sight, to be frank.
“The symbiont is rooted in my pussy, yeah. Not many men host these things! We humans don’t have any other orifice that isn’t absolutely crucial to living, like if you got your nose or mouth or butthole plugged by a little squid you would die.”
I keep trying to make sense of it. The tentacles are covered with a smooth skin, I think, that’s a bit iridescent– brownish, bronzey. They are nearly as dark in color as her skin.
On a white girl they would be more greenish, and paler. I think they pick up the melanin from the human host. And they tan when I do. I’m out in the sun a lot. The skin on them isn’t constructed the same as on my human body, though.
Her heavy arms are heavy looking, as thick as her human legs. Right now they are coiled around her human legs, which seems to be how they prefer to rest. The agile arms have several different looks. They are much more slender, some of them about as thick as one of my fingers. They are… more active, in fact, I don’t think they ever stop moving.
The heavy arms are my mobility, the agiles are my senses and manipulators and stuff. The ones you see moving are keeping their sensory organs stimulated so that I know what’s happening around me.
Now, how did you… um… end up like this?
“Some men did it for sex, what else? I was down on my luck, and working on Dime street, and one of the houses was looking for a girl to be an exotic, and I was desperate enough to say yes. So they implanted a tadpole-looking thing in my pussy. Then I was a maid while it hatched, and grew large enough to play with other people’s cunts and dicks. I did that for about eight years, was the tentacle girl. So, that was about as long as any girl had lived, the symbiote starts to die and she dies too– I didn’t know that when I got it, but I might not have cared, actually. I had found my brother– Berend, you met him– and I was sending him my money, and about eight years I was just feeling… better and better. And my symbiont was still growing. They were almost as long as my legs. And I just had this idea that I better get out before the Hall Of Science got interested… So I acted like I was failing, and asked them if I could go and live with my brother while I died. And that’s what I’ve been doing since– living with my brother — but not so much dying.”
The symbiont is in, as you say, your pussy. Isn’t that a small space? I would think that the wieght of your large arms–
heavy arms, yes– alone would create quite a strain!
“It started in my pussy, yeah. But it– okay, you’re going to give me that look again– it ate away my uterus and stuff, and filled all of that space. It’s all wound through my whole torso, taken over some of my intestine, and is all linked into my nervous system. I’m sorry, I know how it sounds. It feeds nutrients into my intestines and it takes nutrients too. I eat people food and I.. um… squid eat.”
Do you have to eat diseased flesh?
“No, I can feed off of other things, but I have to liquefy them– we call it ‘chow…’”
And you developed this healing role, correct? How did that happen?
“Well, it started with things like lesions… on the skin, you know. And a boy who had gangrene. I gave him soper from my feedpalps, to ease the pain, and then I thought about it and my eatpalps thought the gangrene scented okay– I’m sorry, I know– and I just tried it. We saved most of his leg– more than the surgeon would have. So I started healing skin diseases, helping wounds.
“Then Berend’s wife got sick, pancreatic cancer. And we talked about it for a long time, but the treatments the doctors had weren’t doing any good, so… That was the first time I went inside anyone.”
“You mention a chemical that you produce, that helps regenerate cells? is that a natural function too?
“It’s the growth serum that the eggs are filled with. We worked it out. My feedpalps learned to secrete it at will instead of only when I make tadpoles. It encourages Tcell growth.”
You make tadpoles?
“Eggs, one or two once in a while.”
And do you– have you ever implanted one?
“In a woman’s pussy? Oh, yeah. A handful of times now. Okay, I bet I already know what you’re going to ask– first yes, I do worry that they will die. But I always make sure the woman knows what might happen before I let her go ahead. And I pick real careful. They have to taste right for it. have the genetics or the chemical balance or whatever it is that can accept the symbiote. My first didn’t make it, but I have one daughter that is nine years now and going strong. And yes, they work their first years for me, here– they do sex. It’s good training for a baby symbiont as it turns out. The arms are too short to do much else yet, and the symbiont learns about human bodies… And the woman does too, come to that.”
So, she would stay with you?
“Yeah, she would have to. She needs training, she would owe me, you know? And I would want to keep an eye on her.”
I… Well, I can think of a hundred more questions to ask you, but we’ve run out of time.
“Thank you for the chance to tell this stuff.”
The interviewer put down her stylus and flexed her hand, grimacing. “I wonder what the audience will think about that,” she said. “I kind of worry that you will get the flaming torches and the pitchforks.”
“Really?” The tentacle monster looked surprised. “Yeah. Um– I don’t want no trouble, really. i got too many people here, family. If me talking makes things unsafe, I’d rather–”
“With all due respect, you talk real unsafe.”
“Now, that’s not fair! You asked me those things!”
“I did, but you didn’t have to answer,” the interviewer said smugly. “Listen, I can do you a favor right now, or not.”
“I want to be implanted–” her words ended in a shriek. Despina’s tentacles had whipped around her and pulled her close to the black body so quickly she was breathless.
Something tickled the corner of the interviewer’s mouth, and a fine tendril insinuated itself between her lips. “Open,” Despina said. “I need to know if you’d live through it.”
“Oh wait–” the interviewer said, in the moment before the tentacle wriggled into her throat. She gagged and coughed in a fruitless attempt to send it back out. The sensation of something so alive and inquisitive investigating her lungs made fear prickle over her body. She tried to bite, but the thing was behind her molars. It withdrew quickly, and plunged down her esophagus instead. The interviewer squeezed her eyes shut against the implacable expression in the healer’s eyes, her hands grabbing fruitlessly at the multiplicity of appendages that held her. Her stomach twisted once more as the thing pulled out of her mouth, and she retched, humiliated.
“I’m sorry, sorry!” she wailed when she could speak again. “Please– let me go, I didn’t mean it!”
“Are you sure?” Despina asked. “Because you could take the implant. You would have a pretty good chance.”
“I– what?” the intervewer paused. “But I tried–”
“Yeah, that’s no big issue,” Despina replied. “People try that stuff. Don’t even worry about it. But you could carry a symbiont. I really think you could.” Her face was glowing, alive. “Listen what’s your name? Not that stupid ‘I am interviewer,’ but your real name?”
“It’s um– I am Maize,” the interviewer said. The name sounded strange on her tongue after going for these two years unused.
“Maize. Okay. Look, I want you to stay here for the next three months, till the eggs come. You can learn more about what you would be doing, more about the symbiote, get to know us, work at our hospitality house. If you decide to take on a symbiont, you would stay here about ten years while you mature, so you can get training. After that you would be able to write your own ticket, really. Go anywhere.”
“Um… Despina, Healer– I was rash when I said that. I’m not– I have this calling, as the interviewer, and– how do you know you would want me around ten years, we might hate each other–” Maize wriggled against the hold.
“We might not,” the Healer murmured. “It’s my nature to get along… and help other people get along too. Go on, sit down for a minute. Get over the dizziness. You’ll feel fine in a little while. “
“What did you do to me?” Maize asked. The tentacles lifted her effortlessly, and left her on a restbench.
“I don’t let anyone threaten my family, Maize.” A tentacle stroked her cheek. “ You’re a very smart woman, for one so young. And you have a lot to learn.” Despina pushed her dreads away from her face. “After the meal, we”ll talk about changing what I said, okay?”
“Editing, yeah.” Maize absently scratched at a bee-sting itch on the back of her neck. “Thanks… thanks for everything, Healer.” She leaned back against the rest, relishing the subtle reshaping as it adjusted to her movement. The room was filled with honey-yellow sunlight, gilding the deep black skin of the strange and marvelous creature before her, and bringing up the iridescence of her arms.
“Yeah, and thank you, too. Come on out to the common rooms whenever you’re ready, okay? Our hospitality is yours.”
Maize watched her leave the room. It should have been an extraordinary and even comedic vision, the sleekly muscled back and buttocks atop a complicated tangle that included two human legs and five boa constrictors, accompanied by the waving grass skirt of her agile arms; but somehow, Maize felt as if she had been seeing that sight for all her life.research