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9 — Trial by mob

Rennia was strung up in full view of the village square in Kibblestadt. A horrendously thick rope held her up. Her hands were tied together with a shorter string, her feet bound. Even her toes were tied together. Her mouth was gagged. What wasn’t touched, however, was her cock, which hung in its shortened form, twitching slightly in the cold.

The air was sharp. The full moon had come to watch her trial by mob justice unfold. Two very different crowds were forming–civilians and wandering travelers on one side, guards and adventurers on the other. She was framed in the center, a public spectacle.

Oh god, what am I going to do?

Nothing, of course. She was at their mercy.

The villagers circled. A clergyman stood at the front, holding a book in one hand and a whip in the other. Beside him was the village governor, Lord Baldeus.

The clergyman pointed at her. “This… deviancy… is unnatural. It does not belong in our kingdom, in our nation-state.”

Agreement rippled through the crowd. Nods. Murmurs. Faint grunts.

He threw the whip at her.

THWIP!

Then pulled it back, just before it hit. She flinched. But she couldn’t move at all.

“Priest Galvern, please stop this madness. Whatever ails her is the result of some accident. We should not make assumptions without a proper investigation,” Baldeus said, sweat glistening on his brow. She didn’t care much for the man. She didn’t understand why he cared for her. But her mother was close to that corrupt cunt. It rubbed her the wrong way to see him defending her.

“That’s right!” Saelyn shouted, her elven ears twitching. She shrank back as everyone turned to look at her. Then she tried to disappear behind a clearly pissed-off Captain Ysara.

Ysara stepped forward. “I hate to say it, but yes, futanarism is a completely natural and magical phenomenon. We are not the Inquisition. Who are we to judge her?”

“Wrong. It’s a sign of infernal influence. The seedling remnants of the dead Devil Queen. We will not tolerate it in this town,” the clergyman snapped.

A villager pointed at Captain Ysara. “Lady, she came on your face. That’s pure fucking evil.”

Ysara bared her teeth and rattled her saber. “If you don’t shut the fuck up–“

A fellow guardsman held her back.

Lyanna stepped forward. Shivering. Shaking. She looked pale–so pale, sickly even. Rennia couldn’t help but feel bad for her. None of this would’ve happened if she’d just–

“It was an apple! A black apple, An eve’s apple,” Lyanna cried out. “We ate from the orchard while collecting. It was a job. That’s all. She had a weird reaction. I ate it too. But it wasn’t some evil thing. I think we all need to calm down.”

Another villager shouted, “She went with her! I saw it. What if she has one too? String her up butt naked!”

The villagers roared. The square lit up with madness.

Rennia’s eyes flared with confusion. Then she felt it–crack–a whip lashed her ass. Her cock flopped awkwardly as the pain shot through her. The crowd gasped. Someone snorted. Then laughter.

Another lash.

Her cock wiggled again. It started to rise. Some fucked-up part of her was aroused by it. Out of place. Unwanted. But her body didn’t care.

They were laughing at her.

Lyanna trembled, gripping her staff. Ysara held her back, whispering something. “She’s not a monster. Let her go!” Lyanna screamed.

A few guards dragged Lyanna behind the crowd, out of sight.

Rennia was alone.

Saelyn came closer. She raised her hand, signaling something. A sign. She was leaving. Going to get someone. She’d be quick. The elf darted off, blitzing through the crowd. Her eyes lingered, and her head did turn, locked on Rennia’s cock.

The clergyman stepped forward again. “This cannot be allowed to spread. Send her away or exile her.”

Baldeus shoved the man. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Screams echoed from the distance. Rennia’s blood was boiling. The pain didn’t even register anymore. She knew that scream. It was Lyanna’s.

Maybe none of this would’ve happened if she hadn’t chased after Eldric.

Tears slipped down her face. She stared at the moon.

This wasn’t how she wanted to end her day. Or her life.

The cobblestones trembled. The crowd grew quiet. Guards shifted on their feet. Something was coming.

A woman stood at the edge of town.

Tall. Armored. Holding a shield bearing the old dragon crest. Rennia recognized it instantly. It had hung in their living room. A relic of a war long past.

Her mother stood there, slamming her sword against the shield. Once. Twice.

A warning.

The crowd parted.

Whispers flew.

“Shieldmaiden.”

“Heroine.”

“Devilsbane.”

Rennia didn’t understand a fucking thing. Just that her mother had been an adventurer once, in a diffrent lifetime.

Ysara stepped up, blocking the path. Her hands trembled. Guards followed, but half had already sheathed their weapons, turning away.

Her mother walked past them, escort beşiktaş silent. She stopped in front of Baldeus.

“That’s enough. I want my daughter down.”

“B-but Lady Ilna… the village rules dictate–“

“Now. Or this whole village will know what you do in the baron’s barns. You didn’t stammer when you were fucked–“

“Stop!” Baldeus shouted. “Unhand her. Straight away.”

Gasps. Glares. Nothing said. But everything understood.

Her mother pointed at the clergyman. “I want this one in jail for the night. And that whip used on him.”

The clergyman bolted down the street. He didn’t dare question her authority or notoriety, but the guards didn’t chase.

“Lady Ilna, I mean no offense, but rules exist for a reason,” someone muttered.

“And innocence comes before guilt,” her mother snapped. “Unhand my daughter. Or I will lose it.”

Ysara protested. She wanted a fair trial, not a mob spectacle. But her hands were tied–between appeasing the religious, the guilds, the law.

The ropes were cut.

Rennia fell. Ysara caught her.

Someone threw a thick cloak over her body. She didn’t cry. She couldn’t. She was hollow.

“Come, Rennie. You can walk, can’t you?”

She nodded and stood, following her mother through the dark. Her mother didn’t speak. Her face was a frown carved from stone. She’d taken up the shield again. That wasn’t normal, she hated everything about fighting.

So much had happened. So much will.

But she knew better than to speak. She just kept walking.

When she got home, she was going to cry.

And cry.

And cry.

10– All Birds, no bees here.

Change Vote

Rennia’s head hurt, and her throat was hoarse. She’d had a hell of a night, probably caught a flu out there in the orchard. There were little treant monsters, and delicious golden apples, and Lyanna–Lyanna…

Oh no.

She struggled to open her eyes. She blinked hard. Coughed. Something thick came loose in her throat, a clot of slime. She was in her bed. She didn’t remember getting to her bed.

Oh.

And–how could she have forgotten? How could she have forgotten the bullshit, the pain and misery she went through? How could she forget any of it?

She closed her eyes. Tried to center herself. Something was wrong with her class.

Main class: [Pathfinder Level 1]

Unique subclass: [Maiden of Eros Level 1]

“What the fuck!”

Her class was gutted. Gone with the wind. She didn’t wait to question it. She wasn’t a [Hayseed Jack] anymore, she could feel it in her bones. But… her levels! She had just leveled up. Wait. Worse news was coming.

Rennia sprang out of bed and rushed to the mirror. Something was off. Her tits looked different. Slightly bigger, just enough to throw her proportions off. Her hips too–wider, heavier, more pronounced. She rubbed her ass, still sore from the whipping she’d taken.

She swallowed and stripped. Her panties slid off her ass. There it was. Almost tucked in, small, but stiff enough to bounce and wiggle.

A cock. She had a cock. And it was likely permanent.

Her hand covered her face. She’d have to live with this. This fucked curse. Her fingers slid down past it, brushing the familiar wet heat between her legs. Her pussy was still there. Her baby-maker. Her fuckhole. Still intact. There might be hope. But she needed to get rid of this curse sooner rather than later.

There was noise downstairs. The sun was barely above the horizon, pale blue and lavender hues soaking the rooftops of Kibblestadt. She peeked out the window–no villagers, but a retinue of guards stood posted near her home.

One of them turned, caught her gaze, then turned back as if she didn’t exist.

She closed the curtain and dressed. Walked to her door. Froze.

Someone was moving around outside. Boxes shifting. Bags. Something heavy being dragged. Her gut sank. She didn’t want to deal with her mother. But she had to. She had to explain herself.

“Rennia!” her mother called out. “Renny! I know you’re awake. Get in here now!”

Her voice–stern, too sharp for this early in the morning. It had been years since Rennia had been yelled at like this. She was too old for scolding. Her mom sounded… distressed. And she didn’t know how to deal with it.

Rennia opened the door. Her stomach dropped.

Boxes. Stacked high. Kitchenware. Personal items. Her mother wasn’t even looking at her. Just folding, packing, organizing with brutal efficiency.

“Mom… what the fuck are you doing?”

Ilna Perillion smiled. Not kindly. Not warmly. It was the smile of someone who had already made peace with doing something awful.

“Packing. We can’t stay here. They’ll be here soon.”

Rennia felt like tearing her hair out. “They? Who the fuck are they?”

“Language, Renny!” her mother snapped. Rennia flinched. Just because the world had flipped didn’t mean she got a free pass to act feral.

“Listen. We need to leave. We can’t stay anymore.”

“But… we can’t escort nişantaşı just go. I have friends. People here know me. I have obligations at the guild. I–“

Her mother cut her off. “Shut up, Rennia, and listen. Your little friend is being sent away. And rightfully so. The Inquisition will be on her like fleas. Best you say your goodbyes.”

“What? Why? She didn’t do anything wrong. Who’s sending her away? Who–“

“Because you fucked her, Rennia. Fucked her raw and silly. Her parents are shipping her off. Who else?”

“I… I didn’t–“

“Everyone knows. Edric ran screaming into town, telling the whole story. I always knew you and your friend did little things when I wasn’t looking. But this? I never imagined it’d be like this. Not this early. Still… I don’t blame you.”

Rennia grabbed something from a nearby box and hurled it across the room.

“Who the fuck are you? You don’t talk like my mother.”

Ilna Perillion looked sternly at Rennia, almost angered. It frightened her.

“I told you to calm down!”

Ilna stood up, stepped forward, and slapped her across the face. Hard. Rennia flew back, crashing to the floor. Her mother’s strength was monstrous. She was a former adventurer, after all–not that Rennia knew she was that powerful.

Rennia cupped her cheek. Tears welled up.

“Renny. I need you to act like an adult. Just this once.”

Ilna sighed.

“See, here’s the thing. I’m not your mother.”

The words hit like a hammer to the temple. Her world cracked. Her mother… wasn’t her mother? What kind of fucked-up joke–

“Let’s get to the point before you lose your mind. The world doesn’t care who you love. It cares what you are. Lyanna is as good as dead to you now.”

Rennia’s brain jumped to the Eve’s apple. The cursed thing she thought had done this. It didn’t add up.

“It wasn’t the Eve’s apple, was it?”

Her mother froze, then winced.

“No. It wasn’t the apple. It just… accelerated what was already coming.”

Rage flared in Rennia’s stomach. “Then what the fuck did this to me?! Why now? Why like this?”

“Do you even remember your father?”

Rennia’s eyes drifted back through time. Memories half-formed. Blurry men. None stood out. She shook her head.

“No. Why?”

“That wasn’t your father. That was my brother. Your uncle.”

Rennia reeled. The implications hit her like poison in her blood. Some freak genetic thing? Maybe. But that still didn’t explain why a cock had just sprouted like a damn branch out of nowhere.

“Wait. What the fuck are you saying?”

“Don’t jump to conclusions.”

Her heart pounded. It wasn’t over. There was more.

“Because I’m not your mother, Rennia. Not biologically. I didn’t bear you. Or your sisters.”

Rennia dropped to her knees. Trembling. Her world had turned inside-out. Ilna turned away, hands resting on her thighs.

Something shifted beneath her skirt.

Rennia choked.

She saw it. Clear as day.

“What… what are you?”

“A monster who tried to be a mother–I guess I still am. But your real mother died a long time ago. You’ll never see her again. Do you remember the woman with the big belly? The one you’d always stare at, confused?”

No. She didn’t remember. Nothing.

“That was your mother. She left after… after everything. She didn’t–I didn’t–“

Rennia shook her head.

“You could have told me years ago. Why now? Why do you have it too?!”

She pointed at the thing under her skirt.

“It’s a gift. From the Lady Eros. Our goddess.”

Rennia collapsed. Full sobs. Wetting herself as she curled into a ball. Rocking. Silent.

Then she went still.

Seconds passed. Her body twitched. Rage bloomed inside her. Edric. Lyanna. The shame. The guilt. The confusion. The pain.

She stood.

Then lunged.

Ilna didn’t hesitate. Her instincts kicked in. She caught Rennia mid-air and slammed her into the wall.

Hard.

Rennia collapsed again. Coughing blood.

“Who even are you?” she gasped.

Ilna knelt. Voice low. Strained.

“A failure. I lied. I tried to protect you. And now I’ve cursed you too.”

“More lies!” Rennia shouted.

“Yes.”

“I’m leaving for the capital,” her mother said flatly. “I need to check on your sister. Make sure none of this happens to her. I need a new place to lay low.”

Lay low? Lay low from what?

Ilna walked towards the edge of the doorway.

“I’m sending you away. To someone who can train you. My old master. Someone who won’t pity you. Someone who will teach you how to survive with your new ‘problem.'”

Rennia spat on the ground.

“I hate you.”

“Good,” Ilna said. “Hate me. Just don’t become me.”

This woman, if you could call her that–this stranger–had lied to her. Her whole life, Rennia knew she could never look at her the same again.

She was her mother, but she was not.

11 — Goodbyes

Rennia’s eyes were puffy. She had cried enough. The walls of her childhood were escort etiler crumbling to dust, and she wondered why her mother had made such an effort to send her sisters away — but kept her here, watching, and monitoring.

She needed to see Lyanna before she went. The mystery of her classes and skills could wait. She needed to get things off her chest. Rennia at least needed to confess.

She walked toward the storage room. Though the house was larger than most, there were far too many unused rooms now. It made her uneasy. She grabbed one of her mother’s swords from the armory compartment. The weight was familiar; she’d trained with these since an early age. This one was rustic, old, unused. Symbolism — that was all it was good for. But necessary, in case someone threw another rock at her.

She wasn’t taking any chances. Not after what the townsfolk had done.

The guards were still patrolling the street their home sat on. Called it “preemptive protection.” She saw surveillance. So many blanks her mother had never filled in, and she didn’t have the time or the energy to press for answers.

Out on the streets, she was greeted by the sounds of a town alive. The blacksmith hammering steel nail, shield and horse-shoe. The farmer wrangling his wandering flock — barking, growling, mooing. Tailors swarmed by giggling girls. Taverns and bars humming with old drunk rotten men. The inn’s steps busy, the adventurers’ guild wild with chatter, parties young and old seeking thrill and adventure.

She’d see none of it after today. Not here, at least.

Just like any normal day. If only.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Guard Captain Ysara passing a patrol. Unusually, she wore a helmet. Rennia looked down, averting her gaze. She was embarrassed — and thankful. She hadn’t meant to explode in Ysara’s mouth. Her body had just reacted. A spasm, a moan, a manic pull — and she’d collapsed to the ground.

A mistake she’d be paying for.

Ysara probably hated her. And yet, she’d kept her from being flogged all night. Rennia didn’t want to face her. She walked on, tight-lipped, two blocks away, heart pounding.

She came to a house attached to a brewery. The smell of alcohol hit her from afar. She stood in front of the door, wondering if the Kettens would drive a pitchfork into her, or try to strongarm her mother into some twisted version of conversion therapy.

She’d just had to be born in a traditionalist town. The capital wasn’t like these, there people like Lyanna–no, she needed to kill that thought, she was more than bisexual, she didn’t fit in here.

Rennia held her breath. And her heart. Then she knocked three times.

There was a long pause, then footsteps — heavy ones.

The door unlatched. A pudgy, round-faced woman stuck her head out and scowled.

“Rennia! You! You’re not welcome here. Not after how you corrupted my Lya.”

Rennia stood agape, concerned. She had nothing but respect for Ms. Ketten. This aggression felt like a family member driving a knife into her back. And if she thought, she had corrupted Lyanna, her mother was wholely out of touch.

“Didn’t you hear? Are you dull? She’s not coming. She’s packing. You’ll never see her again. I hope whatever god’s watching punishes you for your sickness. Now get lost!”

The door slammed in her face.

Rennia didn’t even have time to argue. She nodded to herself, then stepped away. She circled to the back of the building. Lyanna was an adult. They had no right to treat her like this.

Behind the house was a basement window, rusted iron bars keeping intruders out. Inside, she saw her Lya, surrounded by half-empty trunks, old clothes, and the staves she used to wield in the field. Lyanna often used it as a place to study magic, or in quiet, uninterrupted. Rennia had one or two memories that happened here.

Rennia glanced around. A group of guards stood nearby, watching wearily. But they said nothing.

She ducked, pressed her face to the bars, and whispered,”Lyanna!”

“Renny!”

Lyanna’s eyes lit up. Almost elated, she ran to the window, dragged a chair over, and climbed up, so their faces were level. She started talking right away. Complaining — but smiling. Chattering that was her alright, Rennia was glad she wasn’t broken.

Though she was hiding something. Rennia could tell.

“They’re sending me to the Holy Magician Academy. For a few years.”

“What! That’s halfway across the country!”

“I know, right? It’s all girls. You’d think I’d be happy, but it’s basically a religious cult. They want to make me a battle-cleric. Can you believe that? After everything I’ve done for my parents, they strip me of my agency. I don’t even have full rights over myself because of the magical laws and such. I hate it. I should’ve run away.”

Rennia’s head sank. “We should have run away.”

Too little, too late.

Neither of them was going to see each other anytime soon. Not if the world had anything to say about it.

“That’s fucked up,” Rennia giggled, brokenly. “I’m being exiled by the village. This is the last time you’ll see me here.”

“Exile? Isn’t that a bit much?”

“It was the best solution… people who cared for me might’ve stepped in.” She didn’t count Baldeus among them, but her mother had strongarmed him. Maybe more than that. They were awfully close. And her mother did threaten to blackmail him.

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