The Hooch appeared on Home Terra some time after the last great plague, the Cova of the early 21st Century. Nobody knew exactly what they really were or where they came from. Most thought they were an alien infestation, but some held that they were the survivors of the Cova itself, changed by the plague into...something else. They were shifters. They could become anyone, any creature, quite possibly any THING at all (knotty pine woodwork always gave me the willies, imagining a Hooch in the midst of all those staring empty eyes). No one knew much about them at all. They were secretive, hiding in dark places -- afraid of fire but not much else. They could be killed and once dead they reverted to an alien mess of twisted tentacles, eyes and teeth. If you were lucky enough to meet one, kill it and survive the process, saving the teeth would net you a handsome bounty at any Sheryff's office.
My name's Cassie, short for Cassandra. My Sire was a Bard and told tales of long ago and far away -- one such story was of a gifted Seer named Cassandra. When my Dam found herself expectant, she recalled the story and named me such. I suppose I was lucky at that. If I'd been male she'd meant to name me Achilles. Achilles might have been a better name at that. At least it was a warrior's name.
A true Seer could name her own fee and sell herself dear to High Sheryff or King. But I wasn't born with the Gift. I learned the patter and to throw the cards, and did well enough to earn a modest living. Along with some small skill at healing and a flaming fast knife and deadly eye with a bow, I managed to keep my Dam fed until she sickened and died. After that I roamed and managed to keep my own self fed and clothed, and marginally safe from predators of all sorts.
At eighteen winters I was virgin still, but smart enough not to act like a witless village lass -- all trembles and blushes for any who cared to look. No, the way to keep yourself safe was to act like you knew what went where, how and when. All of which I did know, though I didn't yet know why. I kept to myself as I was taught, unless I needed supplies. Salt, flour, bacon and occasionally some wine or ale. Anything else I could provide for myself and did, hiding away carefully with sufficient supplies before the snows fell heavy. There were caves in plenty in the hills, many with hidden rooms and shafts to keep the air fresh, even water. If I was careful I could hunt meat. If I was lucky I could bag some. I managed.
But the winter I was 19 sun turns old, the dreams started and I'd have given a King's ransom (that I'd never had) to know what they pre-saged. That winter I'd holed up in a smallish cave in the Smoke Mountains. Smallish only by the standards I'd learned to judge cave systems and mines by. It was still plenty big enough to allow room for a sleeping boar bear and a female poom cat and her litter. As well as myself of course. I'd given some brief thought to making a coat from the poom cat's golden hide -- and mittens from her spotted kits. But she was disinclined to bother me, other than an occasional snarl as I went to the mouth of the cave to do my necessaries, or if I lingered too long at our mutual water hole. If she wasn't going to bother me, then I wouldn't bother her. Certainly not solely for my vanity's sake, since I had a warm coat and mittens of sheepskin with a wolverine fur hood. Wolverine fur was good in winter since the ice wouldn't freeze on it.
Anyway, it was a good cave -- deep enough that the temperature was constant. Not exactly warm but you wouldn't freeze your tits off either. And There's always plenty of deadfall in the forests for firewood. I have an axe head in case I need it, but I've never needed it yet with wood free for the picking. And the cave had good water. Good if you didn't mind the taste of the limestone it leached through from the surface. I didn't. Some caves had sulphur pits or coal leaches or worse. Then you had to boil and still the water down to make it drinkable. Limestone was a clean taste at least.
I'd had a good hunt. Took a fat buck so I skinned it out and took all the best portions -- all the weight I could carry at least -- and dragging one heavy haunch for mama cat, just to be neighborly. She made a face like she was planning a snarl, but when I heaved the deer haunch into her cubby she changed her mind fairly gracefully and accepted the peace offering. Up till then I'd not had much luck -- some turkey birds and wild chooks and a few rabbits. I shared what I could, when I could but this was a gift, hopefully meant to keep her away from my fire and jerked meat I planned to smoke. Setting up the racks and hunting green wood for the smoke and jerking the meat was a long day, into night's work. I strung chunks of the liver on green sticks over the fire and was so hungry I barely let it char before stuffing myself with the rich treat. Tomorrow I could roast the other haunch and then that meat would be good for stew and then soup for at least a seven day. And I'd clean the deer hide and work on tanning it too, but for now I just wanted to wash some of the blood off and sleep for a day or two.
That was the night the dreams started. That first dream, well, it plain tied me up in knots in all kinda ways. Would have been bad enough to have it once but I had almost the same dang dream every night for the next moon spell. In that first dream I was lying sleeping in the forest. It was Spring and I was sleeping bare -- which I never would have done but anyway, in the dream I was. All the plants around me were growing and blooming and growing some more. And there were some -- like the Morning Glories -- long thin vines with little twisty tendrils at the ends and big soft leaves and the big horn shaped flowers. And these vines were growing up all around me, tickling me and stroking me with their leaves and wrapping their vines around me and in the dream it felt good, but not quite good enough to wake me up yet. Some of the vines wrapped themselves around my legs and started to sort of pull them up and apart. Meanwhile some of the little tendril vines were circling up and around my breasts. Lifting them and wrapping them tightly with the vines as they circled up, higher and higher until they reached my teats. Those little tendrils wound up tight around my nipples making them swell up and get harder than the coldest water made them. Soft leaves brushed over and around the swollen nubs until I thought I'd go mad. I started to wake and struggle in the dream but by now the vines held me tight. My arms were pinned to the ground and my legs -- well my legs were splayed wide apart and I could feel cool breezes and the nudging of other small vines and tendrils playing over my woman parts.
I'm shamed to admit that my parts were swelling and getting damp -- just as they did when I rubbed myself when sleep wouldn't come easy. But even more so. I could feel the wet dripping down the crack of my ass and the vines seemed to take particular pleasure in smearing the juices around and over all of me. I'd thought that the pleasure of my breasts couldn't get any greater but two great red trumpet flowers reared over me and nestled down on top my nipples. I could see the flowers swell and then shrink as they began to suckle me. The feeling went like lightning straight to my sex and I reared and heaved, despite the restraint of all the vines. My teats were so swollen now, the little vines wrapped so tight around them, they felt raw and more sensitive than ever they had before.
Vines and tendrils were moving against my sex too. Opening me like a flower bud -- seeming to dip in and taste my wetness before stroking it around and over my mound. Little tiny tendrils played with my pleasure spot, as though they wanted to wrap it tightly like my teats. Leaves coated themselves with my juices and then stroked the hard little bud -- they seemed to feel soft, and hard -- and slow and fast and all at the same time and the pleasure was making me squirm and moan and growl. Looking down I could see another of the great red flowers hovering above my sex and I strained to clamp my legs, suspecting what was coming next.
