My Life Into Pieces
By Musuko

Tap tap tap. The sound was all the more irritating by being unnecessary; Amy could switch her phone to silent mode if she wanted to. But she wouldn’t do that. Tap tap tap, constant typing, her thumbs working in a rapid blur, the rest of the world ignored. She ignored the beautiful hills and forests that rolled past the windows as the car cruised along the long, empty country lane. She ignored the warmth of the sunlight on her face and the cool breeze of the air conditioning. She ignored the books and snacks that her mother, in her kindness, had given her for the journey. She ignored her favorite band playing on the CD player. And she especially ignored her mother as she tried for the hundredth time to stir up conversation.
	Instead, she just tapped away at her phone, typing yet another text message to one of her many friends.
	god i just wanna die this is so boring lol save meeee
	The phone chimed as a message came in. Another irritating, unnecessary sound.
	omg r u still driving???? your moms such a moron driving there when you cld fly!
	Amy snickered.
	“What are you laughing about, sweetie?”
	“Nothing mom. God, don’t be so nosy!”
	Tap tap tap.
	i kno rite? i mean like its not as if i want to go anyway. three weeks in some stupid middle of nowhere house with my uncle? laaaaaaame
	Ding! A reply within a second. Amy’s mother sighed.
	3 weeks???? i thought you were only going for a couple days????
	“Amy, sweetie, you’re missing the sunset. Isn’t it amazing?”
	ugh i gotta go. moms being all bondy and stuff
	She hit send, then frowned at the “message undelivered” error. She held the phone up to the window. No bars. No signal.
	“Hey mom, my phone’s not working.”
	“Hmm? Oh, I guess there’s no signal out here. We are pretty far out into nowhere.”
	“Lame!”
	The car bounced over a rut in the road, dropping from smooth asphalt onto loose dirt. The trees closed in on either side, swallowing the dimming sun and lancing cold shadows in the fading twilight.
	“Nearly there now,” said Amy’s mother.
	“Why’s he gotta live so far away from everything? It’s stupid!”
	“Your uncle just likes to live close to nature. It’ll be good for you to spend some time away from your gadgets.”
	“They’re not gadgets, mom.”
	“You don’t need them is what I’m saying. Your phone can stay off while you’re here. In fact, it will probably have to. I doubt your uncle even has electricity out here.”
	“What?” Amy stared, mouth open. “But mom! How am I gonna play my games and music?”
	“You’re not.”
	Amy sighed dramatically, then pressed down on the power button on her phone, turning it off to save its limited battery life.
	“So unfair!”
	“Now sweetie…” Amy’s mother slowed to carry the car around a tight bend. A small stream ran alongside the road now. She switched on the car’s headlights against the growing darkness. “Do I have to remind you why you’re here?”
	Amy’s ears flushed. She stared at her reflection in the window. It wasn’t fair. Yeah, alright, maybe she had overreacted. But that stupid Casey bitch had been teasing her! She deserved to get glue poured in her hair. Hmmph! She deserved worse! But then her parents got all nasty and it was lawsuit this, therapy that. And now she was being dragged off and dumped in the middle of nowhere with Uncle Joe so he could help her “straighten up and pull herself together.” Stupid mumbo-jumbo from some self-help book mom no doubt read. It was all so stupid! Stupid stupid stupid!
“No mom,” she muttered.
	“Good girl. Just remember, this will be good for you, I promise. You’ll thank me for it when you get back. Ah, I think...yes, we’re almost there. Be nice to Uncle Joe, okay? He’s doing us a big favor letting you stay here. Remember, he didn’t have to offer.”
	“I know! I get it, god!”
	The trees opened out to a clearing, skirted by a line of tumbled boulders and overgrown with scrubby grass. The black gloss of lake stretched to the far darkness of the opposite tree-lined shore. The house stood on the shore, two stories high, faced with weathered clapboard and peeling paint, with windows caked with grime, all under a moss-covered shingle roof that slanted lopsided, as if the whole lot might come sliding off in one crashing heap.
	Amy’s mother clapped her paws together. “It’s so pretty.”
	“Ugh! What a dump!”
	“Amy, shush!”
	The house’s front door creaked and its hinges screeched, making Amy’s mother flinch.
	“Oh! Joe, you scared me.”
	Amy stared. She had last seen Uncle Joe at some half-remembered Christmas party when she was five or six years old. He did not look like he did now. Ten years of county living had turned the once weedy accountant into a stag of impressive proportions. His great antlers forced him to duck under the doorway. His wide, muscular chest was almost buried under the thick shag of his fur. He wore a flannel shirt, but it was unbuttoned, hanging open, its sleeves rolled up over his thick biceps. Amy’s eyes strayed down to his jeans, then quickly darted away. They were stained and dirty, with worn patches on the knees, and he was...hung. She felt her ears redden.
	“Celia,” he said, holding his arms wide as he descended two creaking steps to the grass. “How are you? Did you have a good drive up?”
	He met Amy’s mother in a hug.
	“Mmm, good to see you brother! Smooth driving all the way. Barely saw a car on the road.”
	“And this is Amy?”
	“Hi,” muttered Amy.
	Uncle Joe grinned, looking her over. He remembered Amy, of course. She had only been a young girl then, but she was the most memorable member of the extended family. Because almost uniquely amongst deer everywhere, she possessed antlers, the cause of much embarrassment for her, ever since she was a child. There was no mistaking her for a child now. Nor could one see the antlers and think she was a boy. At eighteen, she was no-longer a girl. Her body had filled out, with a full chest and slim waist, with hips that curved wide and a taut butt beneath her pert little tail. She wore tight, expensive jeans and a low-cut blouse that offered no protection against the coming chill of the night, but did everything to show off her body. Even while she slumped in a brooding sulk, she still stunned.
	“You were only this high when I last saw you,” he said, holding a paw down by his knee. “You’re all grown up. Would you like to come inside? Celia, will you stay for a drink?”
	Celia shook her head. “I’ve got to get back.” She lifted a heavy suitcase out from the car’s rear seats. Joe took it from her and seemed to barely notice the weight. “Sorry to just dump and run.”
	Joe held a paw up, smiling. “It’s okay, I understand. Just be careful on the drive back down. The roads tend to ice up in the night.”
	“I will.” She leaned over to thump his arm. “You be good, little brother. And you be good too Amy, okay?”
	“Yeah yeah.”
	They watched as the car drove off, exchanging waves until it disappeared past the bend in the road. The sound of the engine died away, merging into the soft murmur of the rustling trees.
	“Well,” said Joe, turning back towards the house. “Come on then. I’ll show you around the place.”
	The main room of the house was no more pretty than the outside. It looked more like a toolshed than a home, and the only comfort amongst the workbenches and rugged equipment was a broken down old couch  pulled up close to a wood-fired cast iron stove, where a brass kettle was steaming. Joe lifted it from the heat and filled a chipped mug. He offered it to Amy, who wrinkled her nose. It was coffee, ink black, and strong.
	“Do you have any cream?”
	Joe laughed. “Not for coffee I don’t.”
	“No thanks then.”
	He shrugged, then emptied the mug in one gulp before refilling it. The couch creaked beneath him as he settled into it, and he gestured towards a stool across from him.
	“Come sit. Chat with your Uncle Joe.”
	She gave the little perch a look of disdain. “I’m kinda tired.”
	“Hmm.” He took a gulp from the mug and then set it down on top of the stove. “Alright then, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
	The stairs that squealed and bent under the stag’s weight were mercifully solid under Amy’s feet. A thick, cloying chemical smell filled her nose.
	“Ugh, what is that?”
	“I tarred the roof last week. It’ll smell for a while. Sorry about that.”
	Amy cupped her paw over her mouth and nose as he ducked under a doorway and led her into a small room furnished only with a sagging bed and a painted dresser, on top of which were a stack of old musty board games and a half dozen paperback books, most of them missing their covers.
	“I put out some things to keep you entertained. You like games, right?”
	“Uh, yeah. On my phone. Not those old things.”
	“How about puzzles?”
	She rolled her eyes. “Sure.”
	On top of the stack was a box a little unlike the others. It was squat and square, and the faded printing depicted a ruined temple with a cartoon explorer holding up a stone cube carved with glowing patterns. Joe tugged off the lid and lifted out a cube that looked nothing like it. It was made of interlocking tin parts, was very battered, and the bright paint was chipped and faded, and no doubt contained an awful lot of lead.
	“This used to be mine when I was a boy. It looks simple, but it’s really quite a challenge. Watch...” He gripped the cube in both paws and twisted. The two halves rotated, and so to did the segmented shapes on each face, scrambling them. “You have to get all the faces aligned, and then get the pictures on the faces aligned. I had so much fun with this when I was your age. Want to try?”
	He held the cube out to her, smiling encouragement. She took it, barely even putting effort into her fake smile.
	“Thanks,” she said flatly.
	“Take good care of it. It means a lot to me.”
	“Sure.” She gave it one glance, then glared at the corner of the room.
	“Well, I’ll let you get to bed then. Early start in the morning. I’ll wake you for breakfast.”
	He clumped out of the room and pulled the door closed, jiggling it to fit into the warped frame. She sighed, tossing the cube onto the bed, then flopping down next to it. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and switched it on, hoping and praying as she waited for it to come to life. Just one bar of signal, please. She’d give her soul for just one bar!
	But there was nothing. She tapped at a game for a few minutes, but the shrinking battery life nagged her into shutting it off.
	“Ugh! I hate this stupid place!” She turned her head and sniffed at the sheets. They were musty. She looked around the room, but there was no alternative. With a shudder, she started to strip off down to her underwear. Then, after opening up the sheets and thoroughly checking for spiders, she slid into the bed with another shudder, and lay down on the lumpy pillow, and tried to imagine she was far, far away.
She didn’t tend to dream, and when she did they were usually little more than vague sensations, so the one that came to her during the night was more than unusual. She felt the warmth of dawn on her skin, but when she opened her eyes she saw instead the glow of light and heat coming from the foot of the bed, where the toy cube sat between her feet. The shapes on its faces were glowing like the picture on the box. It hurt to look at it. She sat up and lifted a paw to her eyes while she reached out with her other arm to knock the stupid thing off the bed.
	Or at least, that’s what she tried to do. Because when she sat up, her arms didn’t come with her. She frowned and stared groggily at her empty shoulders, then looked down at her side, where her arm lay limp and detached on the bed.
	A little squeal choked in her throat.
	Thump! She lay back down and tried to wriggle her shoulders back into place against her arms. She couldn’t stop herself from whimpering. She was gripped by shocked panic. And the cube kept on glowing. She felt dizzy! This was insane!
She woke with a cry, her paws flying up to grab at her shoulders. She felt the reassuring normalcy of her fur running unbroken from her shoulders down to her arms. She sighed, relieved. Just a dream.
	The cube was on the floor beside the bed. She must have knocked it off in her sleep. She kicked it away, sending it clattering over to the other end of the room. A knock at the door made her jump.
	“Amy, are up?”
	“Don’t come in! I’m not dressed!”
	“Alright. Breakfast in five minutes, then chores.”
	She paused, tugging her shirt on. Chores?
	Chores. Ugh. Fucking chores!
	The bucket banged sharply against her leg as she carried it down the slippery grass slope towards the shore of the lake. It was a big, heavy lump of ugly metal, all dinged and beat up, and it seemed exactly balanced to be infuriating to carry! She tried hefting it on her back, but the rim kept digging into her neck. She held it in both paws in front of her, but that just made her trip and nearly go flying onto her face. So all she could do was hold it at her side, arm held uncomfortably outwards so it didn’t keep whacking her leg. At least, not so much as it did!
	“Stupid...frigging...chores. Ugh!”
	She stopped with a jolt, lifting her foot. Her suede boot was caked an inch deep in stinking, squelching mud. She let out a howl, throwing the bucket down with a clang.
	“I hate this damn place!”
	She wiped her boot as best as she could against the grass, but there was no saving it. The mud had soaked into the suede. It was ruined! She would have to buy a whole new pair when she got home. They were not cheap!
	But still she had stupid water to fetch in that stupid bucket from some stupid stream down at the edge of the lake. Just a short walk, he said! Like, half a mile! That wasn’t a short walk! She turned and looked back at the house in its clearing. The sun caught fetchingly on its eastern face, making it look almost pretty. Almost. Even at this distance she could see the gaps in the boards. Ugh. Horrible place! At least out here the air was fresher. Kinda. The mud stank. Ugh.
	And as she reached for the stupid bucket to pick it back up, she discovered another thing about the mud; it was very slippery! Her foot shot out from under her, the smooth and stylish sole of the suede boot doing absolutely nothing to help her grip. She shrieked as she went down, arms flailing. Her butt landed with a wet splat in the mud. And then she started sliding, downhill towards the lake. She kicked her legs, trying to dig into the mud, but only succeeding in further ruining her boots. The mud sloshed up into the leg holes of her cutoff jeans. She grabbed frantically at the scrubby grass around her, but the stupid plants just came away in her paws.
	“Help!” she screamed, as the ground dropped away from under her feet. She slid straight off the edge of the two foot vertical cliff, right down into the lake itself, landing with an undignified splash in the cold, deep, muddy water, disappearing completely under the surface with one last panicked scream.
	She splashed back to the surface, gasping for air, spluttering filthy water from her mouth. It stank down here! Flies buzzed around just above the surface, bumping at her muzzle. Her hair lay limp across her eyes. Her feet kicked at the muddy slope beneath the water. And the water was freezing!
	“Aaagh!” she cried. “FUUUUCK!”
	She turned in the water, reaching for the bank. But it wasn’t a shallow slope here. The last few feet of vertical drop was a lumpy wall of dirt and roots. She tried to claw her way up anyway, grabbing at roots. But it all just came away in her paws, splashing her back into the water and just making it even muddier. Damn it!
	She kicked in a circle, looking left and right. There was a sloped bit of shore a little way to her right. She swam towards it in a clumsy doggie paddle, shivering violently from the cold, gulping at air and disgusting mouthfuls of water.
	She lost her stroke when something bumped against her nose. She shrieked and splashed backwards, mind filled with horrible images of slimy fish...or worse. Some disgusting gloopy monster from the deep! Or...like...a dead body or something! Eww!
	It bobbed in front of her. Something squishy and round, the size of a grapefruit. And it was...furry?
	“Shoo!” she cried, splashing at it.
	The thing rolled over with a soft “bloop” noise. Sunlight glistened on a little nub of pink. And at the same time, she felt a tingle on her chest, like the feeling of cold air against wet skin, even though her chest was under the water. The floating thing had a nipple on it. A nipple. Her nipple. It was a boob. A floating boob. In the water. In front of her. Her boob. Floating. Not on her chest…
	She screamed! She clutched her paw at her chest. Her tanktop sagged empty on the left side.
	“My boob!” she cried, splashing towards the errant body part that was now floating away, making good its escape. She swam frantically, trying to grab for it. Every time she tried the wave made by her arm just pushed it further out of her reach.
	“Come back here!” she shrieked.
	Finally she grabbed it, bringing a yelp to her lips as she felt the harsh squeeze of her fingers. She wasted no time wondering why she could still feel her boob as if it were in its correct place. She tugged out the front of her tanktop and shoved her boob back in its place. Her head dropped under the water again, before she was able to pull herself again to the surface. She swam frantically towards the shore, glancing wildly around her, expecting to see her butt or something floating away next!
	She hauled herself out onto the grass, water pouring off her, her clothes sagging and soaked and filthy with mud. She rolled onto her back and lay still, panting and shivering. She grabbed both paws at her chest and ignored the uncomfortable kneading as she felt around her breasts, reassuring herself that they were securely fastened on. Then she patted down the rest of her body. She must look crazy, she thought. She felt crazy! She must be going crazy. She was hallucinating! That had to be it! This stupid place was making her go unhinged in the head. She was falling to pieces! In the head...that was it! Her mind was falling apart, and it was making her think her body was doing the same! Some kind of psychobabble stuff!
	She had to get out of here! Away from this place. And away from the lake definitely. She was freezing! The sun was up and it was bright, but it did fuck all to dry off her soaked clothes and fur. She forced herself to her feet, hugged her arms protectively around her chest, and crept shivering back to the house. The bucket was still over on the slope. Fuck the bucket! Uncle Joe could come get it later, damn him!
	“When I said fetch some water,” said Joe, barely looking up from the job of cleaning the stove, “I didn’t mean bring it back in your fur and clothes.”
	“F-fuck you,” said Amy through chattering teeth.
	“Mind your language!”
	But she was already gone, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her, leaving only a trail of dirty water on the floorboards behind her.
	“There are towels in the cupboard under the sink!” he shouted after her.
	She peeled herself out of her sodden clothes and left them in a pile on the grubby tiled floor. Her feet squelched in the mud inside her boots, and she fought against the suction to yank her feet free.
	“Ugh,” she said, trying to wipe the slime from between her toes. “Ruined! Just ruined!”
	She tossed her boots into the corner, where they landed with a splat. It was as cold in this bathroom as it was outside. Although, why she should call it a bathroom; there was a bath, but it was full of sprouting plants in pots! Not that it even mattered, because there were no pipes plumbed into it.
	“Guh!” She glared at the cracked mirror and tried the sink. The metal just squealed, rusted.
	“There’s no water,” called Joe from the other room. “Why do you think I sent you to the stream!”
	“Damn it!”
	She yanked open the little cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out a towel. It stank just like her bed, musty and old, but she didn’t care. She scrubbed the rough towel through her fur, soaking up the dirty lake water and leaving her dryer, if not cleaner. Once the towel was sodden she dropped it and grabbed another.
	Finally, she wiped her face and hair. She knew she must look awful. But at least she felt a little less like some slimy creature from the deep. She dropped the towel in the sink and looked in the mirror.
	She was right; her hair was a mess. She tried to pat down the tangled frizz, but it was no good. She would need at least an hour in a hot, steamy shower, and then a long spell under a hair dryer. Not to mention all her products. None of these things were here. She felt like crying. Her face was no better too; there were streaks of mud stains in the fur on her cheeks, and no amount of wiping would get them off. And her nose was gone.
	She blinked. What?
	She rewound her thoughts a little.
	Her nose was gone. Her cute, pert little button nose was gone. There was only smooth, unbroken fur on the tip of her muzzle. She looked down. And there it was: laying in the towel.
	Her scream rattled through the room and through the door. She screamed as she snatched up her rogue nose and smushed it back onto her muzzle. It stuck in place, back to normal, but that was hardly a consolation considering the horror of it having fallen off in the first place. She screamed as she stuffed her legs back into her icky, soaking jean cutoffs, and as she pulled her wet tanktop on. She screamed as she stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door, and screamed as she ran from the house, her bare feet slapping at the dirt, her eyes fixed on the lane ahead that led to escape from this crazy place.
	Joe chuckled, calling after her. “What happened? Did you see a spider?”
	Her feet pounded on the dirt track. The trees rushed past her on either side. She fixed her eyes dead ahead and just ran. The scream had died away to a trembling whimper, which in turn disappeared as her frantic running turned her breathing into panting. She glanced behind her, just once, to make sure the house was gone, hidden behind the bend in the track. She was going to escape, going to get away from this crazy place! She reached the end of the dirt track, emerging out onto a paved road. There were no cars in sight. She couldn’t remember which way she had come from when her mother had brought her here. Stupid! Why hadn’t she paid attention? She made a split second decision, picking left, and started to run along the edge of the road, hoping there’d be a town, anything.
	She could get away. She could get help. Get her brain looked at maybe. Some expensive therapists or something! Or maybe she wouldn’t need it. Maybe just getting away from this stupid place would pull her back together. She could…
	It happened suddenly. So suddenly that she propelled herself forwards for two more steps before she realised what had happened. By then it was too late to stop herself. She fell crashing forwards, her arms splayed out to catch herself. She was grateful that she was on the edge of the road and not the road itself, as the soft grass caught her. Even so, as she slid face down along the ground, her body rang with the pain of the sudden jolt. She rolled onto her back, groaning, looking down at herself.
	Her legs had fallen off, and were laying ten feet behind her.
	“No...no no no!” She clasped her paws over her eyes. “This can’t be happening! This isn’t fair!”
	She pulled herself to sit upright, propped up on her paws. The legs of her still wet cutoffs hung empty. But she could still feel her legs. She could feel the cool grass against them. And when she tried an experimental wiggle of her toes, she saw them moving. It was surreal...it was insane. But she just felt numb. Floating boob, nose falling off...now her legs. And the dream! It wasn’t a dream after all! Her arms had come off too? Could any part of her be in danger of just dropping off?
	“Pull yourself together,” she told herself sharply. Then she laughed. She couldn’t help but laugh. It was just too crazy. “Literally!”
	She was about to start pulling herself towards her legs when a car braked to a stop alongside her. Oh hell no...she couldn’t be seen like this! She heard the door open and then slam. And then the driver appeared...and oh fuck, it had to be a cute guy, didn’t it? A big hunky feline in a sharp suit! And not a cheap one! He had spots...so leopard maybe? Cheetah? He had big gorgeous green eyes, and he was staring at her. And she was all dirty and wet and legless!
	He stared, taking in the sight. She saw his eyes linger on her antlers. Ugh...stupid things.
	“Are you...alright?”
	“I…” She gaped, wordless. How was she going to explain this? Finally she sagged, head down. Great. She was going to get dragged off to some government lab and experimented on forever. Or she had just gone crazy and was imagining it all. In which case it’d be some asylum somewhere. “My...legs fell off,” she mumbled.
	“Yeah, I can see that.” He stood up straight and rubbed the back of his head. Well, she wasn’t crazy then! If he could see it. Unless she was imagining him too. And ugh...this was so confusing!
	“H-help,” she whimpered.
	“Sure! Hold on a sec.” He bent down over her legs and lifted one up. She shivered as she felt his warm paws against her cold thigh. “Whoah, these are really good! Where did you get prosthetics like these? My brother has a false leg, but his is nowhere near as realistic as this!” He turned her leg in his hand, peering at the stump. “How does it attach?”
	“I…” She blinked. She was blushing, surely. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. “I can...put it back on. Just put it down for me.”
	“Oh, sure.” He lay her leg down in place and then went for the other. She wriggled the stump into the cuff of her cuttoffs and hoped and prayed that it would reconnect. She felt a strange tingle as the two parts of her pressed together, and when she felt down along her thigh it was all together again.
	Thank fuck!
	He brought her other leg over, and he stood watching while she reconnected herself.
	“My name’s Alec, by the way.”
	“Amy.”
	“Would you like some help standing up?”
	“I can manage.” She avoided meeting his eyes as she pulled herself up to stand. She stared at her legs...no, she glared at them, daring them to misbehave.
	“Where are you trying to go?”
	“Town? Anywhere?”
	Alec sucked through his teeth. “You won’t get very far that way. Nearest town’s about twenty miles.”
	“Fuck!”
	“But that way,” he said, pointing the other way. “There’s a little town a few miles down the road. Would you like a ride?”
	She looked at him, then down along the road. He was a stranger, and getting a ride would be dumb...but she didn’t want her legs dropping off again. Or worse! What if her head fell of? She squeaked at the thought.
	“Y-yeah, I’d like a ride. Thank you.”
	Five minutes later and she was at the town, though she wasn’t sure it deserved the name. It was barely ten buildings, if that! She said her thanks to Alec. She would have given him her number, but she didn’t know it, and her phone was back at her uncle’s place. Ugh...like she would ever see it again now!
	She hurried over to a payphone. A simple plan: call mom, get her to come rescue her, figure out later what to do about the whole mess once she’s back home in proper civilization, with electricity and a hot bath! She lifted the receiver, pressed at the buttons, then realised two things: one, she didn’t know any phone numbers; her cell phone always remembered them for her. And two, she didn’t have any money.
	“Fuck!” she cried, banging her forehead against the booth. “Fuck fuck fuckity fuck!”
	She let the receiver dangle and spun in a circle, raging at everything and anything. She kicked a chainlink fence, and it rattled annoyingly, so she kicked it again. And again and again!
	“Stupid stupid gaaah!”
	A dog started barking on the other side of the fence. A big beefy thing, with stocky shoulders and not much neck.
	“Stupid dog! Shut up!”
	And then the dog ran to the fence...and leapt right over it, landing beside her on the sidewalk.
	“Oh no…”
	The dog barked at her.
	“Nooooo!” She started to run, and the big slobbery brute of a dog started chasing. “Noooo get away! Heeelp!”
	The stupid mutt chased her down the street, but then got distracted by something in the gutter. Probably a dead bird or something. Eww. She dived through a door, into a little dinner, and slammed it shut behind her.
	The place was greasy, tacky, cheap. She ignored the glances of the half dozen staff and customers and slid into the booth by the door. Outside she could see the dog still sniffing in the gutter, then it chomped at whatever was there and trotted off. And just at that moment she felt a squeeze in her crotch, and she clapped a paw over her mouth to stifle a gasp.
	Oh no…
	The cold horror of realisation sank in. She slid a trembling paw down her tummy, under the damp waistband of her cutoffs, and felt the smooth, unbroken fur where her vagina should be.
	“No, this can’t be real...this can’t be!”
	She jumped to her feet and ran for the door, and just managed to catch a glimpse of the dog’s rear end as it disappeared around the corner of a building up the street. She ran to follow it, her heart pounding in a panic. She could feel the dog’s teeth gently gripping her flesh. She could feel its sticky drool dribbling onto her sex lips. Oh fuck. How had it just fallen off without her realizing? It must have dropped down the leg of her cutoffs! And now some stupid dog had it! She whirled around the corner, but it was just an alley, with no sign of the dog. She moaned in frustration and ran down it. She had to catch that stupid dog!
	“Come back here!” she hissed.
	She ran down the alley and got half way before dropping to her knees in a dirty puddle. She gasped and clutched at her crotch. Not that it did any good, seeing as there was nothing there now. She let out a shuddering gasp and slumped sideways against a greasy brick wall. Something hot and wet was stroking at her vagina, lapping away with happy eagerness. The dog...she could barely even think it...the dog was licking at it!
	“F-fuck...please...stop that, doggy!”
	She struggled to her feet, ignoring the fresh dirt in her fur. She staggered to the end of the alley, flinching at every electric jolt of unwelcome pleasure. She pushed her paw down into her cutoffs and stroked at the flat fur, whining in frustration. This wasn’t fair! Her first sex in...well...ever...and it was a freaking dog licking at her! That...that had to be illegal! And was wrong! And disgusting! Ick! She had to find the stupid dog now!
	The alley opened out at the end into a cracked and weed-filled empty lot. There was no sign of the dog. She stood with one paw braced against the corner of the wall, panting hard, and not just from the exertion of running. At the far end of the lot were trees, the edge of a small wood. Or perhaps a large wood. Perhaps it just went on and on, and the dog was long gone into that wilderness. She might never find it. She bit her lip and stepped away from the wall. She had to try!
	Thoughts ran unwelcome through her mind. What if she never found it? What if she was to spend the rest of her life having no control over her vagina? She shivered, despite the warmth of the day. Her paw stroked down to the crotch of her cutoffs and rubbed uselessly against the featureless fur beneath. She thought about never getting fucked by a guy. She thought about having to suffer her natural arousal without any hope of satisfying it. And worse...she thought about that dog wanting to use her sex whenever it chose, and not when she wanted it. And she didn’t want it. No no...of course she didn’t want it. What kind of sick freak would want a dog to fuck her? She bit her lip harder and walked on shaky legs towards the tree line, trying to change her thoughts to something that didn’t make her quite so needy. The dog’s lapping tongue wasn’t helping! Every now and then it would slobber right over her clit and make her gasp and stumble.
	What if he decided to use her vagina as a chew toy? Yes! Think about that! Horrible, terrible...can’t get aroused at that.
	She froze. What was she thinking? No, she didn’t want him to use her vagina as a chew toy! Imagine the pain! She hurried up a grassy bank into the trees.
	“H-here doggy...nice doggy. Please come back!”
	She felt a sudden jab of pain in her crotch, and she fell against a tree, moaning in horror. She ground her fingertips into the bark. Oh god no…
	But then it went away. She felt the brush of fur replacing it, and the tickle of something else...grass? And then...and then…
	She sank to her knees at the foot of the tree, clenching her thighs together and pressing her forehead into the bark. She squealed through her teeth and felt the heat blazing in her cheeks. Something else was at her vagina now, something wet and hot like the tongue, but firmer now, rigid, and it was slowly spearing into her, spreading her drool-slick lips. She pulled off a chunk of loose bark as her fingers curled into claws, and she broke down into gasping moans.
	“Oh you fucker,” she breathed. “You...fucking...rapist dog! S-stop that! You stop that right now!”
	She fell back onto her heels, kneeling in the dirt and leaves. She didn’t care. Her knees parted and she rubbed again at her crotch, as if just hoping for a miracle to find her vagina back there again, instead of underneath the slimy, dripping cock of a dog. Oh god. She covered her face with her paws and moaned into them.
	It felt...good. And that was awful!
	She uncurled her legs from underneath her and lay herself down in the dirt. She closed her eyes and imagined the dog’s breath against her neck. She imagined his paws scratching at the ground either side of her, imagined his panting, the feral musk of his fur, the ticklish touch of it as it brushed against her. And she felt his cock pushing deep. And the mutt started to hump, rapid little jabs that kept lifting the ball of detached furry flesh off the ground. Each time it slid slick to fall back onto the ground with a soft thump, and each time the dog would thrust back down to impale her and make the spots dance in her eyelids and her mouth part for a needy whimper.
	“F-fuck...this is so much better than my fingers.”
	She writhed in the shame, feeling so dirty. She grabbed at the ground, fingers finding dirt. She gripped leaves and weeds, holding tight as she felt her body start to tense up. She had taken her own virginity years ago, suffering the discomfort with buzzing plastic. But this was the first time with living flesh and blood, and it was a freaking dog! And she wasn’t even there! She was going to lose her virginity to an animal that could be miles away! Through the aching pleasure she felt the insanity of the situation, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
	“I can’t wait to tell this to my friends. How did you lose your virginity? To a fucking dog. Oh, you go girl. Where’d you meet him, at the gym? No...an actual dog. Four legs, woof woof.” She clutched her tummy and laughed. “Yeah fucking right!”
	She bit her lip and tilted her head back. Here it was, she could feel it coming; the bubbling tension that came before release, where she wound up into a tight knot and lost all control of herself, wanting to kick and thrash as the pleasure exploded. Alone in her room she would always have to stifle herself into silence and writhe on the bed as her fingers slid wet inside her. She always wished she would have some strong, hunky guy to pin her down and hold her as her body lost itself to the sensations, utterly out of her control. So sexy. She felt a wave of shame as she wished the damn dog were there with her properly. Maybe he would grip her neck in his mouth, gently holding her still with his teeth, growling like the animal he was as he shot his sticky load into her and drove her over the edge into bliss. She felt disgusting, but she didn’t care. She teetered, so close, every muscle tensed, her breath held.
	And then in an instant she was cold and empty, and she felt the gut-wrenching sensation of her vagina being lifted off the ground, stuffed back into the dog’s mouth again. She felt the brush of cool moving air, and she felt the ache of denial.
	“No! Where are you going?” she wailed, thumping her fists into the ground. “I was so close!”
	She sat upright, feeling flushed and sweaty. Her clothes and fur had dried from the lake, but were now damp again with sweat. She punched the tree, then yelped and gripped her paw. Okay, not a great idea. Fucking dog! Why did you stop? Did something interrupt you? Slowly, still shaking, she pulled herself to her feet, trying to ignore the aching lips of her sex, trying to ignore the teasing tickle of the dog’s wet, panting breath against it as he carried it to god knows where. She picked a direction and walked, heading deeper into the woods, just hoping the dog was coming back her way and not heading deeper out into the wilderness.
	“Fucking men,” she muttered, stumbling over a rotting log. “You’re all the same. You’re just animals who don’t care about anything but yourself. Put my pussy back down and you fucking finish me off god damn it!”
	She clapped a paw over her mouth. The trees had opened out onto a road, and she had the sudden fear that someone may have heard her. But the road was deserted. She sagged, breathing out.
	“If someone had heard that, they’d think I was crazy.” She laughed. The dog’s tongue slobbered once against her sex. “Maybe I am.”
	She checked to her left and right. The road ran empty into the distance on either side. She could just make out a few of the buildings of town to her left. Still, it paid to be safe. She didn’t want to get hit by a car or, even worse, stopped and questioned why she was wandering around out here, dirty and sweating. She stepped out into the road...and froze.
	A pair of eyes were staring at her from the other side. A grand figure clopped out from the shadow of a tree, staring at her. She had never seen a feral deer before, not in the flesh anyway. She felt a strange tingle. It was like meeting an ancestor. She felt pinned, mesmerised, and for a moment she forgot all about her errant body part and the dog. She stared at him, at his great antlers, at the strong muscles that flexed beneath his silky hide.
	“Wow,” she gasped.
	The deer snorted and lowered his head. Those huge antlers levelled at her.
	“Wait, what are you doing?” She clutched at her own small antlers. “I’m not a male deer! Wait, stop!”
	She turned to run as the buck charged, and managed half a step before she felt the hard antlers crash into the small of her back. She cried out and held her arms out to catch herself as she was flung forwards, and watched helplessly as they detached at the sockets and flew away in front of her, spinning in the air like batons. The buck lurched away to her side and she heard it running away down the road. Her legs fell away from beneath her. She felt the tingling pop as both of her antlers detached. And, with a sickening feeling of vertigo, she watched as the world tumbled and saw her chest dance past her eyes and her torso drop to the ground three feet away from her head. The grass verge rushed up to meet her, and with a thump her head hit the ground and rolled, making her feel sick with dizziness, until it finally came to rest.
	She stared out across the road, across the scattered pieces of her body. They looked like a dismantled mannequin.
	“Oh fuck,” she moaned.
	Above her was a road sign, battered and weathered. It said “Warning: deer crossing”.
	“Well now you fucking tell me,” she whined.
	A minute later, the dog dropped her vagina. She lay in fragments, thinking about whether this was a good thing or not, until she felt the unmistakable touch of someone picking it up. The bottom fell out of her stomach, and she wanted to cry. Who had it? What would they think? What would they do with it? She tried to curl up and hide, but the action just sent her various limbs spasming uselessly. The questions spiralled through her head, and she felt helpless.
	“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
	And then a pickup truck pulled to a stop.
	“I should stop saying things,” she muttered. “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
	Out of the truck climbed Uncle Joe. In his paw was a wet ball of fur that was clearly bisected by her vagina. He was grinning.
	“Oh for fuck-”
	“None of that language, young lady!”
	She stared, mortified. She didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t this! She thought he might freak out, seeing her all broken up like this. Maybe he’d think she was dead? But he didn’t even seem concerned. It was almost like he expected it! And how did he find her vagina?
	“I…” she squeaked through a throat that was closed up in shock.
	“Come on,” he said, bending down to grab her left leg. He tossed it like a lump of wood into the back of the pickup. “Let’s get you home and sorted out. Then we can have a little talk.”
	She was too stunned to say anything. Piece by piece he picked her up and dumped her into the back of the pickup. Even her vagina; it nestled in the pile of limbs, cruelly out of reach from her mouth or her fingers. She got one last look of Uncle Joe’s grinning face, before he threw a tarp over her. She heard the engine fire up, then in the darkness she jolted about as the truck bumped along the road, jostling her body parts all around her head, in the uncomfortable darkness that stank of oil and grime.
	“I was wrong. This is…” But she trailed off, groaning. She’d learned her lesson. She wasn’t going to tempt fate any longer.
	She tried to count her blessings during the ride back. It was difficult. She still felt numb, her mind not really wanting to understand everything that was happening. Perhaps the fact that the dog was no-longer fucking her was an upside? Ugh, she could smell the dog’s stink on her vagina. Blegh!
	The truck rattled to a stop and Uncle Joe pulled back the tarp. She blinked in the sunlight and moved her paw to shield her eyes, but the paw in question was buried under what felt like her foot.
	“Uncle Joe, what’s going-”
	His paw gripped her muzzle and twisted. The whole thing came clean off, and she watched and felt as he stuffed a wad of a greasy rag into her mouth and then wrapped the rest tight around her muzzle.
	“Mmmph!”
	Oh god the taste. It tasted like...her cheeks flushed. It tasted like Uncle Joe had been using that rag to mop up his sweat, and hadn’t washed it in years. She watched helplessly as her muzzle was stuffed into his pocket. She tried to look down at her own face, but all she could see was a blur. Was her lower face just a blank patch of fur now?
	“That’s better,” he said. “When I said we’ll have a little talk, I think you misunderstood. I will be talking. You will be listening.” He opened up a heavy canvas sack and started grabbing bits of her, dropping them inside. She squealed through the gag as her knee slammed into her vagina. Soon all that was left was her head, which he grabbed by the hair, dangling her dizzily and bumping her face against his thigh as he carried the whole lot into the house.
	Coffee was brewing again. She could see the steam, but couldn’t smell it. All she could smell was Uncle Joe’s musk. A horrible thought entered her mind, and she tried to shoo it away, but nothing would shake it; he smelled masculine...and sexy. She felt like such a freak; he was a relative! But then...she had enjoyed a dog fucking her earlier, so did she have any pride left to be upset over?
	He dumped the bag of her body bits on the floor, then set her head down on a rough wooden table. He sank down into the broken down old couch and seemed to ignore her as he leaned over to fill a mug with steaming coffee. He took a sip and closed his eyes, settling back into the seat. Finally, he looked at her, and at the same time he pulled her muzzle back out of his pocket.
	“Could you imagine the trouble if anyone else had found you, Amy?” He started to unwind the rag from her muzzle. “You really need to pull yourself together and think straight.”
	He chuckled at his joke, and she groaned and closed her eyes. The rag parted from her tongue, and she gasped for cleaner air. A moment later, the chipped rim of the coffee mug bumped against her lower lip.
	“Wha…”
	He tipped the mug and steaming hot black coffee poured like crude oil onto her tongue. She squealed and tried to slam her mouth shut, but Joe’s thick fingers pried it open. She struggled her arms and legs uselessly in the bag, and watched helplessly as her mouth filled with the hot, bitter coffee. Finally, she had no choice; she swallowed, scalding her throat. In the next instant her mouth filled again as more coffee poured relentlessly past her teeth. She tried to plead, but only coughed bubbles. So she swallowed instead, and soon Uncle Joe was pouring the last few drops onto her tongue as she groaned weakly, her stomach churning, her mouth hot and badly in need of some cool water to wash away the heat and the horrible bitterness.
	“There, how was that? Your first proper coffee. That’s how real coffee tastes. None of that mocha-chocca-whatta-nonsense you have at home. Did you like it?”
	She groaned and tried to shake her head, but it just wobbled on the chair. “No,” she gasped.
	“It’s an acquired taste. You will get used to it.” He poured himself out another cup of coffee. She was acutely aware that her muzzle had been left resting in his lap, in the cleft between his thighs, with her nose resting right on the fabric covering the bulge of his crotch. The musk filled her nose, stronger even than from the rag. She wondered if he had done it on purpose.
	“So,” he said. “These are the new rules. They’re very simple. Rule one, you will do everything I tell you to do. Rule two, you will do everything you can to solve this.”
	He lifted out the puzzle cube and rested it on his knee. She glared at it. That damn thing! Now it made sense! Kinda…
	“This is what’s made you like you are now,” he said. “Broken up into pieces I mean. The rest of you is your own fault; the bratty, selfish, entitled attitude you carry around with you…”
	She bristled, but had enough sense to stay quiet. She smacked her lips, still trying to shake the coffee taste. Her tongue brushed against the sweaty denim of his jeans. She yelped and snapped her mouth shut.
	If he noticed, he didn’t show it. “Every night I’ll put you to bed and you’ll have all night to work on solving the puzzle.” He paused, smiling, and took a sip of his coffee. “Well, that isn’t quite the truth. I’ll put some of you to bed. Which bits of you they are will depend on how well you’ve followed rule one. Understood?”
	She tried to nod, then groaned, feeling stupid. “Y-yes uncle.”
	“Good girl. Right then.” He downed the rest of the coffee and set the mug down. “Let’s get you put back together and get you to work.”
	Uncle Joe’s idea of putting her back together wasn’t quite what she was hoping for. He tipped out the parts of her body, which tumbled onto the floor in a jumble. She half expected a sheath of assembly instructions to come fluttering out afterwards. Insert tab A into slot B and all the rest. Her muzzle slotted back onto her face, and she muttered a subdued thank you. It didn’t seem like she was going to be involved in her reassembly, though. Uncle Joe left her head on the table to watch as he stripped the clothes off her body parts...oh god...and started putting parts together.
	She felt the tingles as her legs reconnected to her hips, and now she could see properly how it happened. The sight made her shudder. Where the two parts met, the flesh...her flesh...stretched and stuck together like furry putty. It made her feel queasy, even more than the coffee had, and she shut her eyes to block it out, relying on the feel alone to figure out what he was doing. Her legs were stood up, supporting her hips and torso above. She waited for her arms to be added, but was surprised instead to have her head grabbed and lifted up to connect back with the stump of her neck. She opened her eyes, looking over at the pile of the rest of her body parts, seeing her arms, her antlers, her breasts, and her vagina. Uncle Joe had sat back down with his mug of coffee, and was smiling at her in a way that made her blush. She wanted to cover herself, but she had no way to do it.
	“What about the rest of me?”
	“You don’t need those bits for now.”
	“But…”
	“No buts, missy. You’ve still got a job to do.”
	She blinked. “Huh?”
	He reached down beside the couch and hauled out the bucket she had left at the lakeside.
	“You still need to fetch water for me. Or had you forgotten?”
	She stared at the bucket, then at him. She frowned, her eyes icy. “How am I supposed to do it without any arms?”
	“Use your mouth.”
	“What?!”
	“Carry the bucket,” he said, grinning, “with your mouth.”
	“But that’s...I can’t do that!”
	“Rule number one, Amy. You agreed. Do you want to be punished?”
	She bit her lip and shook her head. “No sir.”
	“Much better. Off you go then.”
	She grumbled, but under her breath. She didn’t know what the punishment might be, but with her current condition she didn’t want to find out. Thoughts of her nose being flushed down the toilet, or her breasts being used as bongo drums, filled her head. She took a step towards the bucket, then yelped in surprise as she ended up going in the other direction.
	“My head’s on backwards!”
	“So it is. Although, you could say just as accurately that your head is on the right way round and it’s your body that’s on backwards.” He started to laugh.
	“It’s not funny!”
	“It’s very funny.”
	“Put my head back on the right way around!” she snapped. And, when he raised an eyebrow, she added in a less confident voice, “please?”
	“Some progress already! But no, I’ll change you when you get back.” He gestured to the bucket. “Come on now, get a move on.”
	She tried not to glare at him. It wouldn’t help. It was so unfair and stupid! She shouldn’t have to be treated like this! But there was nothing she could do, and the easiest thing was to just do as he said. Then she could get hold of that damn puzzle box and fix all this. Then she could get away and call the police and they’d...well, she’d figure that out later. For now, she lurched clumsily towards the bucket, feeling very uneasy about walking backwards yet moving forwards. She crouched down, nearly falling over, letting out a feeble cry as she wobbled without her arms to support herself, and gingerly leaned down to take the bucket’s handle in her mouth. It tasted horrible, all dirty and oily, but nowhere near as bad as the coffee from before! She eased herself back upright. The bucket bumped uncomfortably against her spine, and she stood glaring at him, looking and feeling stupid.
	“Cathn oo geth tha door pleth,” she said.
	“Certainly!” He got to his feet and strode across the room, grinning all the way. He pulled the door open, which creaked unpleasantly, and the sunshine washed in. “Seeing as you asked so politely.”
	She stayed quiet as she teetered past him. The steps down to the clearing almost sent her flying. She had a terrifying moment where her stomach dropped away, feeling the sickening lurch on the edge of falling, but she recovered by shooting her foot out in front of her...behind her...whatever...and slid gracelessly down the steps to thump against the ground. She hissed at the sharp pain where her heel had scraped against the wood, but when she looked at it there was no sign of blood, or even a graze. She looked back up at Uncle Joe, who was still watching her.
	“Mmmh?” she said.
	“What’s wrong?”
	She tilted her head down at her heel, grimacing as the bucket swung and smacked her back.
	“Oh that,” he said. “Yeah, you can’t get injured when you’re not fully intact. You still need air though, so keep that in mind in case you’re thinking about falling in the lake again.”
	She yelped, eyes wide.
	“You won’t drown,” he said quickly. “You’ll just...be very uncomfortable. Good luck!”
	He shut the door and she turned away from it, grumbling. Good luck, yeah right! Damn him! She stormed away from the house, towards the river. Or at least, she tried to. Instead she lurched like a particularly deficient zombie, drooling on the handle of the bucket, yelping each time the bucket swung and struck her back, her feet stepping heel-first and constantly slipping on the grass as she struggled for her balance. It was hell!
	But there was a silver lining; focusing on the task gave her a blissful distraction from her predicament. Her mind didn’t wander, and she didn’t lament about the what ifs and the whys. All she thought about was taking the next step. And though she arrived at the lake exhausted, mentally and physically, there was a certain calm in that.
	Okay, she thought. Next step. Get the water in the bucket. Should be easy. She stared down at the bubbling stream. Should, but won’t, she thought. She crouched down on a clear, level spot of grass, and tried to do what she’d done when she picked up the bucket, just in reverse. She felt the weight of it settle onto the ground, then she gingerly let go. Her jaw ached, and she flexed it. It felt good to have it free.
	“Okay...slowly now,” she said, settling herself onto her knees. She wobbled and dropped with a thump, but stayed upright.
	“Now, if I can just…”
	She leaned down and gripped the bucket with her teeth again. She shuffled her legs to get as close to the stream as she dared, then dragged the bucket along and let it drop down into the water. She squealed as the push of the water nearly dragged the bucket’s handle from her lips, and she nearly fell completely into the stream! But the bucket filled up, and she grunted and pulled, hauling it back up onto the bank, setting it onto the grass and letting go.
	It was half filled, but that was good enough! She stared at the water and felt...pride? She wanted to clap. She couldn’t. So instead she just smiled an exhausted smile and said, “yay me.”
	It felt pretty good, truth be told!
	The trip back to the house was harder, with the weight of the water in the bucket, and she worried that her muzzle might just fall off. She wondered why it didn’t. What was the trick to it? What made things come off at some times, but not others? She shrugged away the questions, concentrating instead on watching her footing. When she reached the door, panting and sweating, but smiling triumphantly around the drool-smeared handle, she banged the bucket against the wood and waited.
	“Ah,” said Uncle Joe. “Well done!” He took the bucket from her. It was a small mercy. And she followed him back inside and collapsed to her knees on the floor beside the couch. She didn’t pay much attention after that. Uncle Joe seemed busy with some kind of cooking. She leaned sideways, resting her head against the couch’s seat cushion. She was tired, and the stove was nice and warm.
	He woke her with dinner. It was a hearty stew, and she would normally turn her nose up at it. Chunks of vegetables and chewy meat in a greasy brown broth? Ugh. That was barely a step up from cat food! But with no arms she didn’t have much choice, and he fed her great ladlefuls of it. And she had to admit, it tasted good after a long tiring day of physical exhaustion.
	And then he put her to bed while the sun was still up. She didn’t protest. There waiting on the blanket was the puzzle cube.
	“Don’t I get my arms?” she asked.
	“Not tonight.” He grinned and patted her cheek. “Good night Amy. Good luck.”
	She sighed. Great. She sat down on the bed and stared at the toy. She could feel the rest of her body parts being gathered together and stored in the sack. All except one part, though, the part she really wanted to be together with her arms; she felt her vagina being set down somewhere. It felt like a table, or a shelf. She could feel the warmth from the stove. She blushed, thinking it must be somewhere close by to Uncle Joe, probably in view. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about it. But the teasing from the dog’s fucking earlier was still making her squirmy. She really wanted some alone time, preferably with something that vibrated. She wasn’t getting that, though. She tried not to think about her aching sex, nor the thought of Uncle Joe seeing her glistening neediness, and instead lay down on the bed and started to work on the puzzle cube, poking at it with her tongue.
	It was going to be a long night.
	She woke at dawn. The puzzle cube was distressingly scrambled, no closer to completion than it had been the previous night. Her saliva had dried from its surfaces, and she remembered how wet it had been after hours of frustrating manipulation with her aching tongue. It was hopeless. She’d never complete it without her arms. Today she would earn her arms for the night. She was resolved.
	She didn’t complain when she was given more chores. She fetched water without any problems, helped by the fact that this time Uncle Joe was kind enough to let her have her head on the right way around. She felt the heat of the sun against her fur, and felt the wash of accomplishment as she brought a triumphantly full bucket back to her uncle.
	“Would you like coffee?” he asked.
	She hesitated. She wanted to say no. But she had promised herself to play the game and come out on top, and that meant saying yes. So she did. And the way Uncle Joe smiled at her was altogether too pleasant. She found herself smiling back.
	“Here,” he said. “You’ll need these.”
	He held her arms out to her, and her smile became a grin.
	“Thank you!”
	She was whole again...almost. She cradled the mug in her paws and held her nose in the steam. The smell was strong, and truthfully it was lovely. The taste, though, was very different. It tasted like motor oil and...and...well, horrible icky bitter stuff. But she sipped at it, shuddered as her tongue was assaulted, and battled on for another sip. Slowly, she worked at the mug, draining it sip by sip.
	Her eyes settled on the crowded shelves above a workbench. There, between a rusty paint tin and a stack of wrenches, was her vagina. She flushed hotly and hid her face behind the mug.
	“Uncle Joe? Is there any chance I could get my...you know...back today?”
	He looked up from the sizzling bacon and followed her gaze. He smiled. “No. That’s off limits.”
	“But why?”	
	“Because I say so.”
	The firmness in his voice discouraged her, and she sat silently while he plated up breakfast. But her eyes kept straying to her sex, while her mind wandered to the aching heat that was pent up in it.
	That afternoon she was set the task of cleaning the bathroom. He had removed her legs, leaving her only her arms to drag herself around with. It put her nose altogether too close to the dirty surfaces she had to scrub. And the toilet? Ugh. She did as she had done with the water chore: just block out everything but the task, concentrate on it, and get it done and over with.
	By the time everything was gleaming, and she was sweaty and dirty, she was feeling good again. She had done it. She had beaten it. And weirdly, it was way easier than she thought it would be! She dropped the wet sponges back into the bucket of supplies and pushed the door open, dragging her limbless butt along the floor.
	“Uncle? I’m finished!”
	No answer. She frowned. That was weird.
	“Uncle?”
	She searched the house. It took a while. Especially dragging herself up the stairs. From the bedroom window she could see the clearing outside. Uncle Joe’s truck was gone.
	“Huh. Must have gone into town.”
	She eased herself back downstairs, step by step, her butt thumping on each one. Her heart pounded, and she had visions of losing her balance and tumbling all the way to the bottom. She had a fright when a board creaked and she flinched, her stomach lurching as she teetered forwards. By the time she got to the bottom she was panting.
	And there on the shelf was her vagina…
	“This is a bad idea,” she told herself. “You know it’s a bad idea. You’ll get in trouble.”
	But, she reasoned, Uncle Joe was gone. She could climb up there, fetch it, play with it, and if she heard the truck approaching she could quickly put it back in place and he would be none the wiser.
	She bit her lip. She was going to do it. Damn the rules. She had to get off! A girl has needs, after all! And it wasn’t fair to leave her denied and frustrated, especially after she’d had her cherry taken by a selfish dog who hadn’t got her off.
	Climbing up wasn’t too difficult. She pulled with her arms and was soon perched on the workbench. Getting her vagina down was a bit trickier, and she had to strain to reach it, and even then she could only touch her fingertips to it. In the end she had to press a finger into herself like a hook and drag it down. It landed with a meaty thump on the worktop beside her.
	A thought came to her mind, and once it was there she had no hope of getting rid of it. Her cheeks flushed just at the thought of it. No way, she thought, she couldn’t do that.
	But...when would she have a chance like this again?
	She picked up the fluffy ball and held the slit up to her muzzle. She felt the warmth and smelled the scent. There was still the musk of the dog in there, mingled with her own. She bit her lip, her heart thumping, her head spinning. This was so weird. But she knew it was going to feel weirder in a moment. She took a deep breath, held it, exhaled shakily, then closed her eyes and put out her tongue.
	“Mmph!”
	She shuddered and pushed her tongue in deeper. Oh god it felt good. She clasped the fuzzy ball with both paws and pressed her wet lips against her muzzle, smothering herself with her eagerness. Her tongue lapped and wriggled, feeling out her own sex, seeing what felt good and what felt even better. She could never go back to using her fingers after this! She’d have to get a boyfriend! Or...fuck...a girlfriend maybe? She didn’t care. So long as they had a tongue. This was amazing.
	She pulled back for air, panting and dizzy.
	“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she breathed.
	“I can’t believe you are either,” snapped Uncle Joe. She shrieked and dropped her vagina. It bounced off the table and landed with a meaty thump on the floor.
	“Uncle Joe!” she cried.
	He set down the hessian sack of potatoes he had been carrying over his shoulder. His eyes were like steel.
	“I...I can explain.”
	“There’s no need to explain,” he said, in a voice that was soft and gentle. It was even scarier than if he had been shouting. He walked towards her, and she shied backwards, bumping into the tools on the workbench.
	“Please, Uncle Joe, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!”
	“I’m sure you won’t,” he said, soothing, kind. And then he reached for her head, cupping it in his paws, and this thumbs pressed in towards her eyeballs. She screamed.
	There was no pain. Just a weird slurping sound, and then an almost comical sensation of something going pop. The world rolled around, and she swayed, putting an arm out and catching herself with a clatter of tools.
	“What’s going on?” she cried.
	Her vision rocked again, blurring crazily. She caught a glimpse of her own face, of her empty eye sockets. She screamed again.
	“Shh, Amy.” She felt Uncle Joe’s big paw on her shoulder, steadying her. “Here, just hold still.”
	Her vision steadied, slowly resolving focus. She saw a wide, barren plain, ridged with grooves, like sand dunes. And then the distance shifted and she realised what it was; Uncle Joe’s palm. Her eyes were laying in his paw, like a pair of glossy marbles. She could see her own eyeless, horrified face staring back at her.
	“My eyes,” she cried.”
	“Yes.” He strode away from her, and she steadied herself again against the disconcerting feeling of being still while her vision rocked across the room. He watched as he pushed open a window, heaved his arm back...then threw her eyes out through the window. She screamed as the world span around her in a crazy, blurring rush, then felt a crash of cold against her eyes as they plunged into the lake. Everything went dark and foggy, tinged with green, and she could see the ripples of the surface as her eyes drifted to the bottom.
	“What the hell!” she screamed. She clawed at the workbench and scrambled forwards. Her paw swiped at empty air, a little too far, and she tumbled onto the floor in a shower of clanging tools. “My eyes! Uncle Joe! My eyes are-”
	“Perfectly fine. For now. Maybe a fish will come along and gobble them up. But they can’t be harmed, remember.”
	“But…”
	“I told you not to play with yourself, didn’t I?”
	She felt his paws grabbing at her shoulders, lifting her up. The tingling at her hips told her that he was reattaching her legs, and she stood uncertain and blind.
	“Didn’t I?”
	“Yes sir,” she mumbled. A blurry shadow swept across her vision and she yelped. A fish. Probably a small one. But this close up it was a monster.
	“Would you like to get your eyes back?”
	“Y-yes!”
	A big, masculine paw cradled the back of her head, while fingers gripped at her nose and, with a gentle tug, popped it right off. She didn’t know where it went then, but she could still breathe through it, which was useful when Uncle Joe lifted her up under the arms and carried her over to the window.
	“Wait, what are you….aaagh!”
	She went sailing through the air as if she weight nothing. She tumbled, arms and legs clawing blindly at the air. The lake’s surface hit her like a wall, and she churned gasping and crying, sinking into the freezing water. She clamped her mouth shut against the cascade of bubbles pouring out of her.
	And then, with no trouble at all, she inhaled a chest full of air through her nose. She stopped struggling.
	Oh.
	She felt the slimy sediment of the lake’s bottom touch her feet. She sank down up to her ankles.
	Well, this was actually kind of cool.
	She felt around in front of her. Her eyes could see the faint ripples of the surface above. And she knew that she would be able to see her own shadow against it, and then she could home in on her eyes and retrieve them. She knew what to do now.
	I get it, she thought. Nice one, Uncle Joe.
	She smiled to herself, half forgetting that this was a punishment. She dragged her feet through the mud, striding confidently. She was invulnerable! Kinda. She hoped. And she could breathe just fine with her nose wherever Uncle Joe had left it. She smelled onions briefly. He must be starting on dinner.
	And then, just a flicker, there was a shadow against the light. She stopped walking and waved a paw experimentally. There it was again. She took another step, and saw herself clearly now, a dark silhouette against the shimmering light above. She crouched down, starting to feel around, sifting her fingers through the slime. She didn’t think about what disgusting, gooey creatures could be down there. She had a task, and it filled her mind, and it freed her.
	Her fingers closed around two small spheres, and she felt the uncomfortable squeeze against her eyes. She cried out in triumph, bubbles pouring out of her mouth to rush to the surface. She held her eyes, one in each paw, and pressed them into her eye sockets. They tingled, even more strongly than her limbs had ever done, and suddenly she could see again. The lake bed stretched around her, vast and dark. She was cold, but not unbearably so. And this was pretty cool. She could swim all day and not need to surface once!
	She kicked off, feeling the slime drop away from her feet. She felt weightless. It was wonderful. She rolled over onto her back and gently swam along a few feet under the surface, watching the ripples sparkle in the sun.
	She figured she’d better swim around for a while to make Uncle Joe think she was suffering. After all, if he thought she was enjoying her punishment, he’d think up a new one.
	Her frolicking came to an end with the abrupt plunging of her nose into something hot and wet. She yelped breathlessly and kicked to the surface, her sinuses abused with the powerful stink of coffee. She spluttered and splashed, gasping for air through her mouth and swimming towards the shore. She saw Uncle Joe standing at the window.
	“Ah, good,” he called. “You found your eyes then! Dinner’s ready.”
	She toweled herself off and joined him at the table. She wolfed down the roast potatoes. She didn’t complain about the cabbage, even though she hated it. She was hungry, and she felt satisfaction like almost no other as she filled her stomach with simple, real food.
	“So, no more trying to break the rules, okay?”
	She shook her head, mouth full. She swallowed. “No sir.”
	“Good girl. Here.”
	She took the offered mug of coffee and sipped. Then she tipped the mug back and gulped down a mouthful. She didn’t shudder this time. And though the bitterness burned at her tongue, she felt a meatier richness to it that she’d never got from any of her expensive coffees back home. And as she reached the dregs, something thudded against her lips. It was her nose. She tipped it out into her paw and looked at it. Her nostrils flared and a bubble blew out from one nostril.
	“Heh.”
	She grinned across the table. Uncle Joe smiled back. He leaned back on his chair and reached into a rough cabinet behind him, banging the door open and then closed.
	“I think,” he said, setting a pair of bottles down on the table. “You can have one of these tonight.”
	“Beer?”
	“Cheap, nasty, foul-tasting, manly beer.” He lowered his bottle and slammed it against the edge of the table, popping the top and sending it spinning away to some unknown recess of the room. He passed the bottle over, but Amy smiled and grabbed the other. She held it against the edge of the table.
	“Careful, if you don’t know what you’re doing you can-”
	She slammed it down, just as she had seen Uncle Joe do it. But not quite. The lid flew off, and with it came a fountain of foam. She yelped and yanked the bottle up to her lips, sucking on the opening to gulp down all the foam before it spilled. She made a face. He was right. It was nasty and foul-tasting. But it was beer. It was unpretentious, cheap, rugged beer. And he was smiling proudly at her. She tilted the bottle back and chugged. And then she gagged and almost spat it all out again.
	Uncle Joe laughed, a roaring sound that could shake the windows. “Slow down! There’s no rush.”
	They shared a laugh. She felt ridiculous, but good. Her antlers were gone, stashed away. She didn’t miss those. Her chest was flat, and her crotch was bare. She did miss those. But right at that moment, with a tummy full of food and coffee and a splash of beer, and a bottle in her hand and her uncle’s easy-going smile across the table, she didn’t mind. She felt good.
She lay in bed that night, cradling the puzzle cube on her lap. She knew what Uncle Joe was doing. It made sense now. He was shaping her, changing her, prodding her into changing how she thought and acted. It was sneaky and manipulative, and it was a wild abuse of her and the incredible power that he had over her via the strange and spooky puzzle cube. She should be mad about it.
	But she wasn’t. She wasn’t stressing about her friends and their drama. They all seemed so petty and pointless now she was away from them. She hadn’t even thought about checking her phone in...well, she couldn’t remember how long. She didn’t feel bored any more. She didn’t get upset when she had to chores. In fact...she was looking forward to them. She had jumped to her feet and offered to do the dishes when they had finished dinner. Uncle Joe’s face was a picture perfect snapshot of amazement. The joy of accomplishment when she got something done was better than any drug. At least, she imagined. She wasn’t that bad of a girl. Not really.
	And tonight, Uncle Joe had let her go to bed intact. Her fingers stroked idly against her crotch and she smiled. She lifted up the puzzle cube and set it on the floor. It could wait. There was no rush, after all. And staying like this had its benefits. She gripped her muzzle, felt the weird tingle and the pop as it detached. She chuckled to herself as she manouvered it down to nestle between her legs, her lips touching her sex. Finally she was going to get herself off. And it was going to be good. She closed her eyes, exhaled a needy breath against her sex, and then she lay back...and enjoyed.

He showed her the magic spot the next morning; the tiny area flanked by the trees and the lake, about a quarter of a mile along the shore, up on a little hillock, the magic spot where, if you were lucky, and the weather was right, it was sometimes possible to get a bar or two of signal.
	She cradled her phone like it was a magical item. It had been such a short length of time, but already she was so unused to this thing. Why had she cared so much about it before? She waited for it to start up. And there it was: a bar of signal.
	The messages started flooding in right away. Dozens of them, from cheap and shallow fair-weather friends. She didn’t read any of them. She didn’t need to. She knew what they would all be like; omg so like Ryan, you know Ryan, well, last night he took Stacey out and omg you’ll never guess...on and on, a constant drone of pointless drama and nonsense. She felt ashamed that she had ever liked all that stuff. She just needed a few days away to snap her out of it.
	She dialed, and held the phone up to her ear. A few rings later, her mother answered.
	“Hey Mom! Yes I’m fine...yes…yes...no...Uncle Joe is fine. He sends his love...yes...that’s great. Listen, Mom, about me staying here...no I’m not asking to come home. No, Mom...Mom! Listen. I’m asking...I’m asking if it’s possible, maybe...could I...stay longer?”
	The breeze stirred in the trees. Everything was fresh and warm, and she could still smell the rich coffee from breakfast. Her nose was laying on the workbench inside. When Uncle Joe was ready for her to help chop firewood, he would boop it with his finger to summon her back inside. Being like she was now was proving to have a lot of advantages. Tomorrow, she was going to practice diving without her whole muzzle. She was going to see if she could catch a fish with her bare paws.
	“Well, I was thinking...do I need to come back? Hey, don’t sound too happy Mom! Heh. No, I know you’re just happy I’m happy...yes...yes...I know...I know Mom…I’ll tell him. I...Mom...come on Mom, stop crying. Heh. Yes...I love you to Mom.”
	She pressed her thumb against the screen and the call died. More messages were flooding in. For a moment she felt an urge to look at them. Just one. Just to see what was going on. That couldn’t hurt, right? But then she remembered the feeling of addiction it once gave her. She would look at one message, then reply, and then another...and soon she would be dragged into that world again. She felt a spike of revulsion. No way! Not now.
	She leaned back, wound up her arm, then threw the phone as hard as she could, out across the placid surface of the lake. It spun in the air, flashing in the sun, and then disappeared with barely a splash, to sink and die in the dark water, never to be seen again.
	She felt a boop on her nose and she squealed happily. She hopped down from the hillock and started back towards the house, knowing that an afternoon of mindless, gruelling physical work was ahead of her, followed by another chore. And then, if she was lucky, Uncle Joe might pop an arm or two off and have her try to hold a scrubbing brush with her mouth.
	And she couldn’t wait for it to start.