Ane’s fingertips caught on the rocky lip of the cave’s entrance. Their grip slipped a moment later. They were so close.

They could have gained a solid handhold with better footing. But the smooth orbs filling their prison were difficult to stand on directly.

Ane reluctantly returned to filling the cave. It had started as more of a whimsical thought than a real plan.

The first dozen eggs proved physical mass was not a factor. Ane could not have fit that many inside their abdomen. Not when producing eggs had no visible effect on their physique.

But they expected there to be some sort of limit. A point their body needed to stop and recover. There was not.

Realizing that let the plan to lay enough eggs to reach the entrance go from a notion to a committed goal. And it was a lot of eggs.

Ane counted nearly five weeks. They had been stuck in the forsaken hole for thirty two days and nights.

They had not been laying continuously the entire time. They could not keep doing anything continuously for a month. But it was pretty close.

Ane had always assumed other responsibilities, diminishing pleasure and physical strain were the only things keeping them from spending all their time masturbating. But none of those applied now.

There was nothing else they had to do. Each egg felt as good as those before it. And their body never tired or showed the slightest sign of adverse effects.

It was fine for the first week. After that the trance-like state that had been so comforting started to feel stifling.

Ane began trying to hold onto the thoughts that naturally floated away. It was not easy. And the complete lack of other environmental stimulus did not help.

Their abstract thoughts were frequently quite grim. The mental state from laying actually made that easier.

Ane could not really panic or experience pronounced dread with the euphoria affecting their perception. It made their thoughts almost clinical once they acclimated to actively thinking at all.

The question of what to do when or if they escaped came up a lot. They could not go back to Rojin like this.

They were obviously not a recognized civilized species. Rojin was openly an alma nation. But other species on peaceful terms cohabited and enjoyed a level of legal protection.

Calling tige citizens implied more participation in the kingdom’s government and culture than the nomadic people engaged in. They had their own customs, maintaining some distance from the alma settlements they passed through.

Qasko dwelled past the opposite border of Rojin. But their ability to crossbreed with alma meant most people knew someone with scales, skull ridges or even small horns.

Ane occasionally saw stranger species in the capital or other major cities. They knew those creatures had paperwork and a bureaucratic process allowing them to visit from their homeland.

But Ane had no way to acquire such permissions. They doubted it was even possible without a political power backing them.

They settled on two plans. The first was trying to disguise themselves. Lacking a mirror made it harder to judge. But they looked enough like an alma that clothing could hide the differences.

Gray skin was an uncommon yet possible trait. They would need to cover their entirely smooth chest and hide their tail. Ideally they could find clothing to bulk out their frame as well.

The teeth might be hard. Keeping their mouth closed might work against casual inspection. But a partial or full face covering would be better.

Finding an appropriate disguise while completely naked would be challenging. And the risk of being discovered and branded a demon would be ever present.

The second option was leaving Rojin entirely. Their knowledge of the greater world was second hand. But Ane knew how to survive in the wilderness. No seeming need for food or water would make that easier.

They also knew how bleak isolation could become after a few weeks without social contact. It was already bad enough traveling between outposts. Living like that permanently would be maddening.

Ane suspected the ability to lay eggs and the effect that had on their mind was all that stopped them from going crazy in the first few days. Maybe it would have the same benefits indefinitely?

Running out of new ideas and information to spark them had made the last week tedious. Their escape plan was obviously viable. But they found themselves pausing more and more often.

It was never for more than a few minutes. There was not even anything to do that could not be done while laying.

Smashing eggs on the rock walls was both counterproductive and had long since grown old. The black yolk inside tasted a bit richer than raw chicken eggs, something it took relatively little time for Ane to work up the nerve to test.

It was only a few hours before Ane felt ready to try again. The eggs were large and hard enough that they locked together somewhat. But it had taken practice to balance on the high points without sending their smooth footing flying out from under them.

The extra layer settled under the entrance was just enough to let them grab the edge properly. Ane had tried to figure out ways to exercise while laying.

It required some practice and repositioning to lay while doing push-ups. But it was entirely possible.

That and similar attempts had kept their non-pelvic muscles from atrophying over the weeks. Assuming they were even capable of atrophy any more.

Their upper body strength did feel improved. At least more so than the blatantly diminished state it was in after their transformation.

But their reduced overall mass played a bigger part in letting Ane pull themselves up. An arm scrabbled for purchase before fingers found a crack between the rocks.

The other hand moved up and Ane heaved themselves onto the ledge. An unbroken view of the sky and rocky hillside greeted them. For the first time in a month, Ane saw something other than the dim cave and their own eggs.

They lay back against the boulder for a long moment. The dawn light warmed them and breeze moved over their bare skin.

The memory of the faceless figure that began this all snapped Ane out of the moment. They had not seen the creature since that first day.

The fear of it coming back and taking control of their mind faded over the weeks. But that was no reason to take chances by waiting here.

Ane studied the boulders and rocky debris between themselves and the shrubs below. A small river was faintly visible through the plant life overgrowing its banks. Beyond that was the patch of forest that surrounded most water sources in the plains.

They did not recognize the location. That was no surprise. Traveling the untamed lands for years was no guarantee they could identify anywhere off their common routes.

Ane found their way down to the riverbank. Most rivers would feed into the Dark Moors. Unless they were far closer to Rillan territory.

In that case the river might flow down to the Merchant States. Either way Rojin would be up river.

Ane had extensively thought through each option. That did not mean they liked any of them.

They started walking upstream. It could take months to reach a heavily populated area this way. But a river was more likely to have settlements than the grassland.

Ane started out jogging. Soon they began picking up speed. The short grass underfoot and wind whipping past was the antithesis of the bleak pit. It was intoxicating.

Before long they were sprinting outright. The lightness of their body went beyond the ease of movement across an uneven cave floor.

The river and scruffy trees flew by to the left and rolling fields stretched out to the right. They expected to feel the burn of overtaxed muscles or gasping disorientation of straining lungs.

But of course they did not. Why would they? Nothing else in their body obeyed natural limitations.

One moment Ane was the wind. The next they were rolling across the ground. It took another second to process what happened.

They could run at the speed of a galloping horse indefinitely. They could not inherently avoid turning their ankle in a rabbit burrow.

Ane spent the next few minutes laughing. They stretched out on the grass. The sun was still making its way towards the sky’s zenith.

After a while sunbathing, Ane laid an egg. They were not exactly sure why. It just felt right. And there was no reason not to.

They eventually returned to their feet. Resting sprawled out on the grass was something Ane needed more than they realized. But they were still concerningly close to the cave.

The ankle seemed fine. Although Ane had not felt pain from anything since their transformation. Even nicking themselves on broken eggshells had not hurt.

They could sort of feel those cuts. And the ankle felt a little off. But the sensation was more of a knowledge of something being abnormal than true discomfort.

Walking did not make the feeling grow. So they figured it was fine. The cuts had healed completely in a matter of minutes. Hopefully the same thing was true for a possible sprain.

Ane continued at a more observant pace until the sun began to drop to the horizon. The trajectory over the day supported their choice of direction. They were moving towards Rojin. The only question was whether that was a good thing.

They laid an egg every so often. It was almost unconscious. Something they did just because it felt odd that an egg had not crowned for a while.

Was it part of being whatever Ane was now? It felt more like an ingrained habit. They had spent the previous month never going more than a few minutes without being satisfyingly fucked by their own reproductive system.

Ane had been avoiding the implications of that to the best of their ability. It was easy at first. Their entire life was thrown out the window. Ignoring inconvenient possibilities was easier because the inconvenient realities blocked them out.

But the prolonged self reflection in the later half of their captivity had changed that. It was inevitable to consider what would happen to the eggs they were laying.

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The worst case scenario was children. The idea of thousands of babies coming into the world in that barren hole was awful.

It was also the least plausible. The more Ane thought about it logically, the less being able to produce so many kids so easily made sense.

A species able to breed that fast would have exploded in population and been well known by now. Not unless Ane was the first member.

They had the impression undead and other unholy creatures either could not reproduce naturally or did it slowly. Not that they could exactly call anything their body did natural.

It was ultimately impossible to know. But they doubted it.

The best option was the eggs being infertile. Everyone knew hens would lay even without a rooster. And those eggs would never hatch.

Ane had not slept with anyone who could fertilize them. Thinking about the prospect had revealed something else different.

It was a kind of odd relief to confirm that they still became aroused when fantasizing about women. They had simply added fantasies of feeling a hard shaft inside themselves to the fantasies of being that shaft inside another.

The eggs never hatching would be convenient. But Ane had weeks to think this over and knew enough folklore about the undead to have a suspicion.

It had been a creature that became their tail and started the transformation. A creature that looked about the right size to come out of one of their eggs.

Undead were well known to turn others into more of their kind. That was why the Church of the Creator destroyed them so fast.

Laying eggs was clearly part of whatever Ane was. It was satisfyingly symmetric if they were laying the eggs of the creature that started this. The creature that was now part of them.

Ane knew objectively that it should have been a horrifying idea. It would mean they had essentially been turned into the reproductive system for an unholy monstrosity.

Each egg they lay would have the potential to be another person transformed in the same way. But they felt fine with that. They enjoyed laying eggs. And it was not making their situation any worse.

The problem of their appearance was an issue. But that was because of how it affected other people and those people affected them. They seemed to be genuinely unbothered by it themselves.

They did not feel any powerful compulsion to go out and transform others. Not that they knew for certain how. But they could not find it in themselves to object to the idea either.

That was the biggest reason Ane suspected the eggs would hatch into tiny tails sooner or later. It felt right. Like it would be a good thing if that happened.

An egg rolled on the grass. Ane personally saw no reason to break the habit. It was not slowing them down much. That might need to change if they found a way to interact with alma safely.

Ane made their way towards the trees marking the river’s path. The dense undergrowth scratched against their skin and made the lack of clothing very apparent.

None of the abrasions caused pain. But the sharp sensations were distracting. They might have gotten used to nudity. But some kind of protective layer would have been nice.

Ane broke through the thicket and onto the small rocky beach. The river was a dozen paces across and placid enough to reflect a choppy image.

The lissome figure disrupted by the rippling current was no surprise. Ane got down on their hands and knees. The face was new.

Flowing water at twilight was far from a mirror. But Ane suspected they would struggle to recognize themselves even in silver backed glass.

There were hints around the eyes and forehead structure. The same shape to the bones. They thought the jaw looked reminiscent. More feminine, but still similar to other members of their family.

The eyes themselves were concerning. Glossy black orbs without distinction between white, iris or pupil. It would be very hard to hide them.

They plunged their face into the water and felt the shock of cold. They pulled back gasping. There was no need to. But it felt right.

Ane waded into the river. The gunk they could not scrape off had mostly dried and flaked away in the last month. They started scrubbing themselves anyway.

The majority of residue was from the fluid that accompanied their eggs. They focused on their crotch and inner thighs.

It was not noticeably different to the natural lubricant alma women produced when aroused. Not that Ane could tell at least.

The smell was less pronounced than many of their partners. But the abundance over the previous weeks had left them wanting a bath more than they realized until now.

Soap would have been nice. So would hot water. Or a conversation with a real person. But if wishes were horses we would all need more hay.

Ane dunked their head and scrubbed at the half inch of hair on their scalp. The same black follicles were coming in on their groin and armpits.

The faint stubble on the rest of their body was much softer and more dispersed. Ane was simply relieved that their hair would grow back.

Ane lay back in the current. They passed below the water with a little surprise. Their lungs were full of air. But they seemed to be less buoyant than they remembered.

The water only came to their knees when they stood. So dropping under the surface was far from concerning.

Ane floated in the river for a while. They could recognize the water was cold. The rush when initially wading in made that evident.

But it was more of a clear contrast than discomfort. The temperature felt fine now that they were acclimated to it.

Their tail absently explored the rocks below and drew patterns in the sand they could not currently see. It curled around the egg that dropped to the bottom immediately after Ane laid it.

They did not surface when the light faded completely. Only watched the stars arrive with true night.

The sunlight through their eyelids finally motivated Ane to stir. They came up and exhaled a stale breath before inhaling the morning air.

The dawn was spreading across the sky. Ane had not been asleep. They did not truly sleep anymore. But they had been deeply relaxed.

They waded out of the river and onto the narrow beach. It looked as if a collection of black stones were scattered under the place Ane floated.

They had been trying to make the outline of a horse. But moving the eggs only with their tail and not looking at it had left a pattern more similar to a blob with six extremities no where near the locations four legs, a head and a tail should be.

Ane considered correcting the incomprehensible artwork. But decided it would feel disingenuous. Future generations would have to puzzle over the interpretive art of their ancestors.

Ane wondered if they were starting to lose it. They felt like they were doing as well as expected under the circumstances. What did they need sanity for anyway? They were an unholy abomination.

It was a few hours before Ane spotted the shape of buildings in the distance. They immediately migrated over to the tree cover.

The river had broadened as it approached a bend around the structures Ane sighted. The flatter banks and increased groundwater expanded the few plains-willows growing by the river into a proper forest.

Ane stayed behind the wall of undergrowth at the forest’s edge. The tilled fields were easily visible through the bushes.

They hunkered down near the first farmstead they spotted. The rough building was clearly crafted from the local earth and limited lumber.

It was made as well as Ane expected from the more remote settlements beyond actively governed lands. But it was obvious little to no magic had gone into refining the architecture. Only a sufficient grasp of the area’s resources and hard work.

They eyed the laundry on a clothesline between two trees. It was out in the open and too close to the building to reach in broad daylight.

The brown and yellow garments looked as if they had been left out too long. The shirts twisted around the cord by passing winds and trousers only hanging by one leg were visible even from their hiding place.

Was it negligence? Or had the residence left without taking down their washing first? Ane had not seen anyone in the fields or around the building itself.

They did not want to risk approaching. The place might be vacant. They would feel more confident if there was still no sign of anyone once night fell.

The two eggs that had already accumulated in their hiding place made the hanging trousers seem less useful. Ane really did not want to wear something they would have to take off any time the absence of an egg passing through their channel became distracting.

A tunic or robe might work better. Robes were normally worn by nobles and other people without jobs requiring a physically active lifestyle. Ane was more likely to find a skirt or tunic in a farming village. Even a shirt and cloak would go a long way towards making them feel like a person.

The farmstead remained abandoned for the rest of the day. The only living things were a few rabbits and some chickens foraging in the yard.

Ane finally decided to approach once dark had fallen without any sign of habitation. They thought about moving on their stomach or dashing from cover to cover.

It would be difficult to do effectively in the cleared space. And they would come across as hostile if they were spotted.

They ended up deciding to walk out of the woods and down the path as naturally as they could. It was dark and their coloration would be hard to make out in the moonlight.

Ane wrapped their tail around their waste in an attempt to make their outline more alma-like. Hopefully anyone who saw them would take them for a lanky nudist.

“Hi. I’m Ane. I want to talk.” It was not the first time Ane had heard their own voice since it changed. They had talked to themselves quite often during the first fortnight.

“Just your average traveling demon. Put my pants on one leg at a time. By the way, can I get some pants?” Their voice sounded strange to them.

Well, that was not exactly right. It felt as natural as everything else about their new body. But they did not sound like an alma.

It was oddly musical. And many of the sounds they felt were being made the same way sounded different. As if the anatomy of their throat was not quite the same as an alma throat.

Ane decided not to speak out loud until absolutely necessary. Hearing a distorted voice from a dark figure walking towards your unlit home at night might cause some to jump to conclusions.

The gibbous moon made details harder to make out than daylight. But it was obvious something was wrong.

The fencing around the yard was not just falling down. It had clearly been smashed and trampled into the ground.

The chickens were roosting in the tree closest to the building. It looked as if one wall of the coop had been violently torn off. A similar fate had befallen the door of the house itself.

A sense of dread built as Ane tentatively approached the splintered doorway. The gloom seemed to deepen as more of the wrongness became apparent.

They could make out grime and scuff marks on the rough floorboards. A faint putrescence hung in the air. Like a slaughterhouse that was never properly sanitized.

The table was toppled and chairs scattered across the room. The entire small home proved to be the same.

Several people had lived in the single room structure not that long ago. The grains stored in a wooden chest near the hearth were neither disturbed or moldered. The minimal weather damage supported the idea only a few weeks to months had passed.

Ane was not experienced in forensics. But it was clear something unpleasant had happened here. They doubted the residents left willingly. And a group had trashed the farmstead either after or during whatever happened to the farmers.

It took some searching in the dark to find the tinderbox and kindle a small fire. Wood was still stacked beside the hearth.

The flickering fire light did no favors for the room. Many of the stains on the wooden floor looked less like dirt than old blood and thicker scraps dried to the boards.

Ane logitimently considered leaving. It would be easier to investigate and scavenge with daylight. But leaving now felt almost childish.

They were able to find the clothing of three different people. The undershirt closest in size stopped near the place Ane’s belly button had been.

The only other option was so baggy that the shoulders hung to their elbows. The addition of a tunic soft enough to not irritate the skin on their hips and upper thighs gave the semblance of real attire.

They eyed the pants with skepticism. Some could be made to fit. But all of them would be too involved to take off.

The tunic reached to their mid thighs. It would be easy to see everything when they bent over. Even a passing breeze could do the same.

Ane was not sure how much they cared. Their tail was essentially a penis. Working it with their hand had proven that and produced an inky fluid otherwise identical to alma seman.

They were not worried about people seeing that part of their genitalia. Although it was less recognizable than the anatomy between their legs.

Caution would indicate they should wear something on their lower body. But who was that caution for?

Dressing was already making Ane feel more secure. Having clothing was a level of control they had not understood until deprived of it. People have clothes. Monsters do not.

That did not mean they specifically had to maintain modesty. It would take more than this to socialize with alma under normal circumstances.

Anyone who was talking to them with their current appearance would have already ignored more significant things than the chance of glimpsing their labia.

They might as well be comfortable. The egg that settled on a low point in the uneven floor confirmed it.