Investigate covertly (too bad you're an amature)

While you think it's worthwhile to see if you can gain some clothing and equipment to continue your adventure, you don't think it's wise to be to trusting of anyone who thinks its a good idea to live in the CessPond. They're probably not quite right in the head.

...And if they were, thy'd probably be put off by your current state od indecent dress.

You crouch and begin trudging as slowly as you can.

Unfortunately the mud has no regard for your attempts at stealth, and squelches insensitively for ever step. Unfortunately for you the, train doesn't much drier, for the cottage you're approaching is standing on wooden stilts.

The cottage has a wooden gangway surrounding with no considerable growth surrounding it and leading away from it and elevated a good deal above the swampy surface. If it weren't for the smog, the cottage would provide a good outlook of the surroundings, you think.

But with the yellow fog obscuring and angling to be as much ass possible in the blind spot of the windows you think you're doing pretty well in your stealthy efforts. Even your squelching is becoming less obtrusive though your legs are getting tired.

When you reach the elevated platform around the house you find that you need to lift your knee up on the planks. The soft ground beneath you is too soft and wet for you to jump.

As you heave your way up you erect dick catches on a splinter and you curse up a storm inwardly inwardly and twist your face with pain, doing your best not to make a sound.

Not noticing the slight creaking of the boards you hasten to pluck out the splinter gingerly from your gland.

A single drop of scarlet wells up on the soft, flushed skin of you precious penis, but the pain is still somehow not enough to make it wilt.

That, done you carefully get up to your feet and edge towards the nearest window to look in through the grimy pains of glass.

Pressing against the wall you lean forward.

You see as dead fire pit with a pot hanging over it . You see a few buckets by the fireplace, plenty of rope an way looks like a leather tanning rack. A few herbs hanging from the ceiling. Some cupboards and most interestingly of all a large, solid looking ironbound chest.

There's no sig of a person however.

Satisfied with your scouting your about to straighten yourself when you heat a slight creak.

You want to turn around, but all of a sudden you feel a sharp sting on your bare ass which sends tingles up your spine and you straighten involuntarily with a yelp and you loose your balance and fall on the wooden planks.