Have the wug guide you

Your mind swiftly adds up the possibilities of this discovery. This is unexpected, but perhaps not unwelcome news. No doubt he is telling the truth. Who would lie about their faith like that? Finding the wug has also made you realize the extent of your danger on the shoreline. If not for fickle fortune, you may well have been ambushed by these creatures, or worse, and never been the wiser.

You make your decision. You lean over the wug, driving your foot harder into his chest. “What are you doing out here?”

The wug squirms to get free, but you doubt it is to run, but more of an eagerness to take you to his village. “Came for fish. Fish in pools. Safe from sea people and boats. Village not far. Bringing it back to mate. Please! Must come with me.”

“Shut up. Do you know where the boats stop?”

The wug’s eyes flick between you and Brigette in fear. He shuts his mouth tight. You meet Brigette’s eyes and nod at the wug. “You ask him.”

“Me?”

“He’ll answer you.”

Clearly unsure of this, Brigette squats beside the wug. The frog creature’s bublous eyes stare at her, and his mouth drifts open in awe at her voluptuous form towering above him, as it should you think. “Um…Where do the ships stop?” Brigette asks.

The wug shudders at her voice. “Not far, Tokonga. There a bay where come to shore.” He looks pleadingly at the green woman over him. “Please Tokonga! Come back to village! We waiting so long!”

Brigette is obviously uncomfortable with these effusions of faith. In retaliation on her behalf you yank at the collar, forcing the wug to look back at you. “Fine. You’ll take us there.”

You are amazed his fishy eyes can open even wider in horror. “No! No! Must come with me. To village! Back to village!”

You yank the choker again like you would a disobedient dog. “If you do, then Bri…Tokonga will feed you some of her sweet milk. Understand?”

The wug stills at once. His mouth flops opens in awe at this possibility to feed straight from his goddess. Desire and duty war in the unfortunate creature’s mind. At last, he seems to shrink into himself beneath your foot and gives a shamed nod. “Yes. I do.”

“Brigette?”

“You’re sure?”

“Don’t get too close. Just…drip some in.”

Warmth blooms within you at how your sister trusts you with her nectar as she crawls overtop the wug. The creature curls back its head and stares in utter worship at the green orbs dangling over his face. You shudder, and it takes all of your self-control not to abandon the leash and plant your lips around Brigette’s dusky nipple. Awkwardly, with one hand, Brigette pinches one of her leaking teats. She groans in pleasure as she gently massages the swollen orb. A gentle trickle of milk falls, shining like silver in the setting sun, and into the wug’s gaping mouth.

The creature bucks and shudders in ecstasy, but never strays from the stream of milk. His eyes roll about his head and his fin shakes with a rattling sound. Your tongue flicks between your lips at the sight and warmth radiates from your stomach to your core.

“That’s enough,” you rasp. Brigette takes a moment more, shaking the last droplets into the wug’s mouth, then pulls away. The frog-like creature watches her depart with an aching longing. A flash of foreboding goes through you, and you wonder if that was a mistake. Too late for second thoughts. You wind the creeper about your wrist as you bend down so it is always taut, then carefully undo the binding about the wug’s ankles. You feed back out the vine as you and the wug stand. You give a gentle jerk of his leash to remind him who is in charge. “March,” you command.

With a sort of resigned calm the wug begins to pad across the beach and you both follow.