Your dreams intensify

Your travels are slow but uneventful that day, although you do manage to kill a rabbit and a bird. Combined with the wood suitable for shafts and you may be able to make some new arrows. By the time night comes Jesse falls into an exhausted sleep and you quickly follow.

Like the night before you find yourself at the mercy of men, a group of them who laugh as they use you.

"This one likes it rough. See?" one says, and slaps your tits back and forth again and again.

"She likes letting the man take charge. She knows her place is as a hole for men to dump their seed. Look, she enjoys having my dick down her throat and my hand around her neck."

"I paid her a few coppers so she's willing to let me stick my arm inside her loose, dribbling cunt. I've got a big fist and big muscles and yet she's still not objecting even though it hurts her to stretch so much."

"I only paid a copper and the cheap whore's letting me fuck her asshole. She doesn't even care that I'm yanking on her hair."

"If we pay her a copper will she let us spit on her?"

"Why pay her at all? She'd probably pay us to do that to her."

With a gasp you wake, breathless and drenched, feeling a pulsing between your legs. What kind of dream was that? You've never dreamed of such things before, and yet you find your hand squeezing your throat while the other digs its nails into your breast.

"No, no," you tell yourself, but instead of stopping you move the hand from your throat down between your legs and press at your pussy. It's even wetter than the rest of you, as if you'd doused it in water. Shuddering in pleasure you savagely tear at your breasts as you dig your fingers deeper and deeper into your own pussy. Moaning in need you push as many as you can inside, stretching your opening as far as you can, desperately trying to get your entire hand in. As much goes in as you can get, but not all of it. Somehow when you do cum, digging you fingers into your pussy and leaving nail marks on your tits, it seems feeble and unsatisfying, and not even further effort makes you cum again.

The next morning you waken after barely any sleep, grouchy and unsociable. Without thinking about it you draw your hair back into a top-knot, pulling the knot so tight your scalp hurts like someone is pulling on your hair. You and Jesse walk in silence, and though you manage to get one feeble rabbit you feel as if the day was a waste, and eagerly wait for sleep.

This night's dreams are much like the last, with you sucking on a smelly man's balls before he pushes his absurdly big dick all the way down your throat. He pulls out to cum all over your face and the next one wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing as hard as he fucks, telling you what a dirty whore you are, so cheap that even beggars can fuck you. The next one pinches and twists your nipples, yanking them far out from your body, then squeezes your tits with bruising **** while asking you how many men you'd fucked that day. Lastly, you feel a mammoth dick plow into your backside, making you burn with pain and shame as he asks if you enjoy the taste of your ass and if that's why you wanted to only use spit. He pulls out, thrusting his dirty dick past your lips several times before going back to your burning backside.

Again you awake to a feverish need and this time you manage to get your hand inside your pussy in spite of you fingering your own asshole. You wish you had four hands, though, or five so that one could yank your hair, another could **** you, and the other could slap and maul your tits. Eventually you have an even weaker orgasm than the night before, leading to a very restless night's sleep.

When you wake up before Jesse you dig through your belongings, finding a strip of leather and a small totem from your village. Slipping the totem's string over the leather you then tie the leather strap around your next, knotting it firmly. It's so tight it cuts off your air supply a bit, but of course the important thing was to have the totem on display so that it might counter these dreams you're having. Jesse asks about the 'collar and sack' you're wearing, wondering what's inside. You just smile and tell him it's a charm from your village, with various herbs and such inside. You can't quite bear to tell him it's the scrotum of some creature. When you'd been packing to leave you'd wanted something to remember the village, and came across the large scrotum. There was some tale about them, you're sure, but you can't remember what it was as you'd never been interested in hearing the 'wise one's' tales. All you recall is that they were supposed to be powerful, and you wanted to be powerful so taking them seemed natural.

Again you manage to shoot an animal for dinner, and gather various herbs and berries for snacks. Several times your hair gets caught in branches, possibly because you keep tossing it about and insisting on going off the trail. It feels like someone's yanking on your hair, and while Jesse forges ahead you jerk your head back and forth to enhance the feeling. When Jesse calls back for you you don't bother being careful and instead simply walk forward until the branches - or hair - are **** to let go, relishing the pain as you pick out the bits of branch and bark.

Another night leads to another dream. Not all the men are human now, but they still use you just as roughly and call you all sorts of filthy things, giving you barely any coppers no matter what you do, but it seems natural enough to not ask for much when you service these men. On waking you have a proud moment when you get your entire fist up your cunt. You can't reach as deep as you want, and you really wish your fist was thicker even though it hurts to plunge it in so roughly. You even manage a few fingers in your asshole.

Another day, another hunt, and although you get some game you decide that you should get more berries. You have Jesse stand guard as you strip off your top. You wouldn't want the thorns to rip it, after all, and you wiggle your way into the thorny bushes. Jesse asks a silly question about why you don't just take the berries from the outside, but you tell him, between gasps as the thorns ravage your breasts, that the berries inside are sweeter. You wiggle about seeking the berries, and when you emerge with a handful it is mostly your breasts that are scratched, like untrimmed fingernails had been pawing them. Jesse stares at you and covers his crotch before you go back in. Over your next few forays you wonder why you never thought of Jesse as having a cock before. You find yourself stretching when you come out, arching your back, breasts in plain view. Jesse asks another silly question, to which you answer that no you don't mind having your breasts get all scratched. It's pretty normal. Normal for what you leave to his imagination.

Eventually you get on your way, and you take your time about putting your top back on, feeling **** to cover them up again. In the end you tell Jesse that it's well known that fresh air is good for such small scratches as these. He stares at your breasts as you cup them. They are covered with scratches, some of which have little beads of blood, but such tiny hurts are nothing.

By the end of the day you find yourself with a choice, as there are some villages near. You could go to them to find work, or maybe just to leave Jesse, or even go to them for some trading and.... leisure activities.