It had been an hour since her parents had gone to sleep. Or at least since they had stopped making noises. Hiding behind the couch, Jess’s stamina was beginning to flag. Her eyes were drooping and she’d had to stifle several yawns.
Staying and sleeping was a bad idea, she couldn’t predict what would happen while she slept. Snoring or talking in her sleep. She had to sneak out.
As quietly as she was able, she stood and peered over the couch. In the gloom and glow of the dying fire she could see the two shapes of her parents under a thick blanket. She watched and waited for a moment. Both seemed to have deep regular breathing, a good giveaway that they were fast asleep.
Turning to check the door, Jess’s eyes fell instead on the little coffee table beside the sofa her father had sat on earlier; it still hosted her father’s writing pad and pen. Jess furrowed her brow. She couldn’t just leave him here.
Henry’s dreams were a maelstrom. Demons and beasts danced their way through them, cackling and rutting in their naked form. More than once he thought he spied what looked like a Satyr version of Joan in the midst of a slippery orgy, waving at him.
The dream was getting more and more intense and terrifying, they were cajoling, poking, prodding him. It hurt. And then through the haze, a face. Pale skin, ruby lips, baby cheeked and button nose. Slowly the rest faded away and turned to the living room of the Cabin.
It took him a puzzled few moments to remember where he was as he looked around.
Jess, to his chagrin now fully dressed, knelt beside him prodding his prone form.
Finally, fully awake, he made eye contact with her. She had a serious look on her face as she brought a finger up in the ‘shhhh’ symbol. Henry nodded.
Jess picked up a sheet of paper beside her and pressed it into his hand. Henry looked up quizzically, but Jess was already standing, moving on silent bare feet to the door. With barely a sound he watched her unlock it and slip out, sparing him only a quick glance.
Puzzled he looked at the sheet. Turning it so the glow of the embers allowed him to read.
‘Dad
I’m so sorry for earlier, I shouldn’t have done what I did. This Cabin makes you do things. It doesn’t excuse what I did, and a big part of be wanted this to happen anyway, I think. I just wanted some control here. The ability to chose my first partner, before all choice is lost.
I hope you can see from tonight what this place can do to people, what it can make people do. Please forgive mom. But please, please don’t give in and say an animal’s name. You’re the only one not cursed. I truly believe if one of us can figure this place out, escape, and save us. It’s you.
I love you Dad.
Your Jessie-bear
PS: Maybe Bessie-cow is more on point now. (I jest of course)
PPS: Maybe burn this?’
Henry chuckled between watery eyes, his poor girl was doing her best, he could see that. The faith she had in him was bolstering. It made him believe maybe they did have a chance to get out after all.
He’d clear the air with Joan in the morning, it was just the Cabin speaking obviously. She had snapped out of it already. She’d be her usual self in no time.
With a flick of his wrist Henry tossed the note into the fire. He watched for a moment as it caught, giving the room a bright flash as the paper caught and briefly burned.
Wearily Henry lay his head down on the pillow and quickly drifted back to sleep.
No more dreams assailed Henry that night. He woke instead to the sound of clopping hooves beside his head.
Cracking his eyes he saw Joan, standing close by. She was still naked, facing away from him. His eyes had opened just in time to see her bend over, picking up her dress. As she bent her ass, tail, dangling dick and balls all were on show. She scooped up her dress, and with a flourish threw it on.
“Morning love” Henry started, trying to sound cheerful. Joan froze, then turned, her face unreadable.
Henry propped himself up. “Glad I caught you.” He said. Joan’s eyebrow raised. “You are?” her tone was neutral, guarded.
“Yes, about last night.” He began, Joan cut him off. “It’s fine… forget it.” Her tone wasn’t harsh or dismissive, but it wasn’t jovial or magnanimous either.
“No no!” he insisted, continuing. “Look love, I know it was just the lust spell of the Cabin making you say all that crazy stuff last night. I should have figured that and been more tactful. I’m sorry. I know you don’t really want to be a smelly animal, a shower or two will sort it out.” He smiled his most jokey smile at the last bit.
Joan’s mouth was a straight line. It lingered like that for a few moments before cracking into a smile. “Of course. It was just the Cabin. If I go off on one again let me know.”
Henry nodded gladly, “That’s good. Glad you’re on board. I’m going to shut my mouth now before I say something bad.” He made the zip gesture.
Joan nodded, “Good idea!”
There was a pause for a few moments as silence descended upon them. Eventually Joan gestured.
“I have to go to the bathroom. Then I was thinking, I might do some painting. Would keep me busy.”
Henry nodded and smiled in understanding. Joan shot him one last weak smile then left.
‘He called you a smelly animal again Joan.’. The voice called in her head.
“I know.” She responded, grumbling out loud. Outwardly it had been easier to agree that everything the night before was unwanted, but the truth was far from it.
‘You’re not a smelly animal Joan’, the voice cooed. She nodded to herself. ‘Come let me show you what you are.’ It followed up. She knew where it wanted her to go.
She entered the bedroom, no one there. James must have left either during the night or that morning. She turned and strode to the painting of the hairy man. He was even hairier now, or, he was always that hairy perhaps. He had hooves too, just like Joan.
‘You’re like us Joan.’ It rumbled. “Us?” she said out loud. ‘Yes! All of us. See?’.
She looked at the painting, the hairy man’s cock looked like it was dribbling cum now, Joan licked her lips. Her eyes kept roaming the painting, it didn’t take long for her to find ‘us’; in the background there was a scene, or more of an orgy, of satyr’s and satyresses. They drank, and danced, and fucked in a giant hairy slithery pile.
“You are in the painting?” she asked, confused and unsure, stepping back. Fearful that the man meant to trap her in the painting.
The rumbling chuckle went through her. ‘Of course not. We live in the forest outside Joan.’
“I should come and live in the forest with you?” she asked. ‘You would be mythical Joan, eternal, in a glorious form.’
Joan bit her lip, it sounded enticing, and the satyr’s forms were indeed glorious. Powerful legs, thick hips, bountiful breasts, top and bottom, and a carpet of hair on their lower half. Maybe she should go to them
She shook her head. What was she thinking!? She had a family still, and a husband she wanted to come with her.
“Not yet…” she ended up saying, expecting the voice to anger.
‘Understandable’ that was unexpected. ‘When you’re ready, seek us out’.
“How?” she whispered. ‘Follow your nose.’ It responded. Joan smiled broadly, of course it be that heavenly musk.
‘You love the smell Joan’. It half queried, half stated.
“I. I do.” She confirmed.
‘Are you going to shower? Like he said you should?’ it asked finally.
“I don’t think I will” she admitted.
She walked into the bathroom, discarding her dress. She looked down at her naked form, cock balls and crotch-tits all dangling from her front. Lifting them all out of the way she took a sniff at the smell emanating from underneath. A tangy musty scent. She liked it now.
She waddled over to the shower and stepped in, squatting she let loose her bladder muscles, releasing her morning deluge. To her surprise it began to fire from both holes. One jetting down, the other, out.
She squealed in surprise and giggled, not holding on to anything, letting it shoot where it willed. Plenty of splashback caught her in the chest and legs. Her hooves especially got soaked.
‘How to you feel Joan?’ she felt the voice probe. “Desirable. Like this is a glorious form” she said outloud, laughing. ‘Give Henry time Joan, he will join you’ the voice prompted from nowhere. Joan, understood, however, the longer they stayed, the more likely that he would slip-up. She could wait, goad him into saying Goat, then he’d be hers.
She stood, pee slowly drying from the heat of her body. She just had to wait a bit.