The Anthic Forest gave birth to many frightening legends. In the Colonial Age, attempts to map and explore the place by navigating its rivers proved impossible because of numerous large predators. Thick, fast-growing vines with vicious thorns prevented any effort to tame the place with agriculture. It did not help that the locals tended to run off into the forest rather than deal with would-be conquerors, either. By the time Rebecca entered with her oversize backpack and notes, there were hundreds of books about the Anthic Forest full of utter nonsense. 

	It was alright that the average geobiologist believed there were tentacled rock-beasts the size of houses hiding in the undergrowth. And, Rebecca could forgive the botanists for echoing myths about carnivorous plants from books commissioned by fever-addled, gold-seeking 'explorers' to explain away their failures. But, ethnography was the study of a people in their own environment, not the careful documentation of stupid myths about them! Worse, if the myths were lewd, utterly impossible stuff!

	Rebecca could not believe anyone was so incurious. At least, it was easy to find support for her journey. The wolf found no obstacles. Even the local government, normally against any mission not lubricated with money, welcomed her with open arms.

	The Anthic Forest, however, was not very welcoming, though. Glistening red vines hung from gnarled, moss-covered trees like guts, their spikes decorated with flowers that stank like carrion. Bushes practically breaking under the weight of berries Rebecca knew had to be edible were home to colonies of vicious ants. Sap clung to her fur every morning, the natural glue always sneaking into her tent via some tiny imperfection in the fabric. Fat, bristle-coated grubs of some unidentifiable monster bug dropped onto her camera and chewed through the lens while she was trying to take a photograph of a peculiar symbol carved into the bark of a tropical oak. One of the things even tried to bite her! Cursing, she flung the camera as far as possible and ran from the place. The symbol was probably there specifically to warn people away from those grubs!

	She stumbled onto the Anthics by pure chance. Bent down, her flask dangling in the river, Rebecca saw a slick, black shape cut through the water. Before she could turn to run from the water beetle, a huge, muscular otter dove from the far bank with a guttural bark. The lupine was still processing that she saw a stark naked river-weasel the size of one of her bull lovers back home when the water exploded, and he climbed out, the monster beetle over his shoulder.

	Clothing was, of course, optional in a hot enough climate, and some part of Rebecca's training kicked in to demand she look up at her rescuer's face instead of staring at some other, impressive part of his anatomy.

	“Thank you.”

	It was a bit naive to think a people isolated for centuries would speak the same language as the folk on the rest of the continent, but she had to say something. The otter looked her up and down with a smirk, and barked across the river. A jaguar, as sleek and muscular as the otter, swam across at a leisurely pace, gliding through the slow river without sparing  a glance at any danger. He emerged from the water, green eyes darting over her equipment, before he clapped the otter on the shoulder.

	“Ah, you found dinner and a new friend to join us, Vil! What good fortune! Welcome! I am Ral and my otter companion is Vil!” he purred in a perfect, if antiquated dialect, and gave a slow, ceremonious bow to Rebecca. “Are you one of the Northlanders?”

	The wolf felt her hackles rise, but bowed in return.

	“I am sorry, but... Northlanders don't exist anymore.” she said, as diplomatically as she could. “I am here from the Assembled Continental Provinces.”

	“Good, good. I do not know what the Assembled Continental Provinces are, but I wish your tribes the best of fortune in their every endeavor” the jaguar said, “And, I am glad you are not a Northlander. They were troublesome guests. I remember one of them, a... wolf, was it? His appearance was much like yours. He kept complaining about the heat, all the while wearing an ugly, black coat covered in skulls. It must have cooked his brains. Heh!”

	The wolf blinked. The Northlander Invasion, and indeed all of the Six Continental Wars, happened more than a century ago.

	“Careful, Ral. Our ways are not the ways of the wolf people and their assembly. You may be speaking of ancient history to our guest.” the otter, Vil, twitched his whiskers down at Rebecca.

	“No, no, I just... well, it happened a very long time ago, yes.” she eventually agreed.

	There were stories of the Fountain of Youth, of course, but she was quite sure they were an invention of bored geobiologists and fabulists.

	“Of course. Forgive me. We Speth tend to live a bit longer than folks from outside the forest.” the jaguar chuckled. “Now, would you like to see our home?”

	Rebecca nodded. In an instant, her little ethnographic expedition felt like something much bigger. Maybe, for once, the University would be ecstatic to have her department share funding with the physicists and chemists! A secret of long, youthful life would put her name above any of the hacks that wrote ridiculous books about the Anthic Forests and its denizens. Well, perhaps not so ridiculous, she sternly reminded herself. Until a moment ago, eternal youth was on the list of things the wolf considered fabrications and lies.

	“How old are you, exactly?” she said, following them as they stomped through the forest as if they were strolling down a well-paved street.

	“The Nor-pardon me, the Assembled Provinces, they do not use a calendar of moons and stars, do they? You prefer the Sun?” the jaguar held up a paw, counting down on his claws. “I do believe I would be... two hundred or so? Much younger than Vil, I assure you.”

	“Thank you, Ral, for making me seem a toothless elder. I am a mere forty years older. Nothing like our kings.”

	Rebecca kept her mouth shut. If forty years was not much to the pair of Anthics, she wanted desperately to know what they thought old age was. Even if Ral's calculations from whatever lunar calendar his people used were flawed, he was old enough to be a great-grandfather while looking like an athlete in his prime. Hells, Rebecca's eyes could not help but drift down his lithe back, to those strong buttocks...

	“We know something of people that enter the forest. I expect you want something?” Ral said, interrupting her thoughts.

	“I came here to learn about your people, actually. Nothing else. I don't want your gold or anything. Promise.” she blurted out, and instantly felt very dumb.

	“In my father's time, guests would all be looking for gold. It was very tiring explaining that we Speth do not keep metals like that around.” the jaguar laughed. “We prefer resins and stones.”

	Rebecca expected a small village, maybe even a single large house. When the pair of Anthics, or, she corrected herself, Speth, walked out of the dense forest, the wolf stopped dead in her tracks.

	Here, the trees grew even taller, eating into great stone structures which accommodated and controlled the path of their roots. The city, for it could be nothing else, was part of the forest, every bit of it glittering with amber, jade, turquoise, and lumps of volcanic glass. It was difficult to tell where one building ended and another began, but judging by doorways alone, the Speth numbered in the thousands. Fat fruits, colored every shade of the rainbow, hung from strange, unknown plants tended by people of every description. The Speth included many otters and jaguars, but there were warthogs, coyotes, and even the occasional wolf and skunk among them. None wore much clothing, and all seemed in the peak of health.

	“I can't believe it.” the lupine scientist whispered.

	“Our home is a city of the forest. While other tribes cleared land for their stone buildings, my people learned early on that we must sacrifice much to the forest, to keep our freedom and strength.” Ral explained.

	“What are those fruits?” Rebecca pointed at a particularly large specimen they walked by, weighted down by pear-like fruits of midnight blue, red, and violet.

	“They are the source of our strength.”

	The new voice, a rumble that seemed to shake the ground, came from a plump raccoon walking towards them. He had gray fur around his muzzle and his teeth were worn with use, but no wrinkles marred his snout. His eyes shone like two obsidian pebbles full of lightning, his smile warm yet full of mischief. Rebecca had no idea what to make of him, so she settled for a bow.

	“Welcome! It has been a while since we received guests. I was beginning to think the world forgot about us.” the raccoon said, and plucked a colorful fruit from a plant nearby, popping it in his mouth stem and all.

	While he chewed, the jaguar spoke.

	“This is one of our kings, Iskal. Do not think him rude. Our holy fruits have wonderful healing powers, but even they have a limit. Iskal approaches his ninth century, and soon, he will undergo...ehhh... hmmm...”

	“A transformation.” Vil helpfully piped up. “In the end, we all will!”

	“I think I can keep from becoming one with the fruits for a few years more.” rumbled King Iskal, and gave Rebecca a juice-stained smile. “What is your name? How did you come to hear of us, and why are you here?”

	“I am Rebecca. I read books, and I thought about how ridiculous they all were... they said you were cannibals, and that the trees ate people, and all sorts of other horrible, stupid things. I want to prove them wrong.”

	Of course, now that she knew something of them, Rebecca also wanted their fruits. If those things could keep someone alive for nine hundred years, seemingly in the prime of his youth... the wolf licked her lips.

	“You are full of ambition.” the raccoon observed, nodding to the younger Speth. “Come and taste of the holy fruits.”

	“I know you are eager to see the city, but our laws are clear. All new guests must eat before they are allowed to explore.”

	“That is true! You must come with us!”

	Having both Vil and Ral suddenly grab her shoulders, all but pushing her along behind the raccoon worried her, but she reminded herself that was part of working with a truly unknown culture. So far, nobody she saw had any malice for her. The tribe members she saw throughout the city waved to her or sidled out of their way with cheerful smiles.

	“Everyone is so friendly. I thought, since you were so isolated-”

	“We prefer to live with the forest and enjoy its fruits. But, we love our guests. And, most of our guests love us so much, they never leave.” Iskal said. “It is for this reason that we offer our most powerful, most sacred food to you when you first arrive. If your knowledge and spirit are meant to add to our city, we will know.”

	It occurred to Rebecca that the fruits might be hallucinogenic. But, by that point, they were through a large, circular arch, and into a grand courtyard. Here, the splendor of the city shone, jade tiles in the shape of roots mingling with the forest's own vines. King Iskal raised a paw and yelled, his deep voice echoing into wide hallways snaking their way into what the wolf guessed was some sort of palace. Images of the fruits, something between pears and eggplants, competed with stylized depictions of people and trees, haloed with amber or supported by pedestals of obsidian chips.

	A jaguar, a rabbit, and a coyote ran in, took one look at Rebecca, and ran for a hidden alcove along one of the hallways. In moments, a thick carpet lay across the jade tiles of the courtyard, and many large pillows lay in heaps for all four of them. The wolf blinked, looking at the palace staff a little closer. One of them was not quite right.

	“The rabbit seems... a little strange.” she said, as careful to avoid insulting the lapine as she could be, given the odd, lavender tinge to the downy white fur of her breasts and belly.

	King Iskal chuckled, then waved his paw, and the servants scattered.

	“It is our way.” he said. “They will bring food, and then, perhaps, Ral will tell you more.”

	“What am I expected to do?” Rebecca asked, looking around at the courtyard.

	There was no sign of any blood sacrifice, and while she saw very little while she walked through the city, no one carried weapons. Not that they needed any, she reminded herself with a gulp, looking at the dead water beetle lying next to Vil. Suddenly, living among long-lived super-people sounded dangerous.

	“Do not worry. It is just a meal. And, afterwards, we have many ways of making you enjoy your stay...” Ral spoke up, drawing closer to her, an arm wrapping around her hip.

	“Vil may not notice, but the way you look at every male Speth tells me much of the sort of guest you are.” the jaguar whispered.

	Rebecca could count every spot on his cheeks. His whiskers nearly touched hers. Those eyes, like warm emeralds, drew her in. She wondered if King Iskal would say anything if she kissed the feline now.

	The food arrived, piled high in bowls that looked huge even in the strong paws of the Speth bearing them. Mushrooms bigger than her head sprinkled with green ferns, fat, oil-drenched roots, steaks she was sure came off of a beetle, and of course, the holy fruits. They were fresh, so perfect she could see her reflection on their taut skins, and the smell they gave off instantly made the wolf's mouth water. Rebecca could not place it, but when she picked one up, she knew instantly what that scent was: pure temptation. She knew it was probably rude to just dig in, but she could not help it. With a hungry growl that surprised her, Rebecca bit into the reddest red she had ever seen.

	The taste hit her tongue instantly in a wash of juices. Like raspberries mixed with peach and cherry. There was not much pulp, but the intensity of the juice made up for the lack of flesh. And, the seeds were so tiny, the wolf barely even noticed them! They just slid down her throat like tiny little beads, gone before she could think to spit them out. All three of the Speth sitting with her watched her slurp and swallow down the fruit, eyes never leaving her mouth until her paws came away, stained a deep red.

	“Oh, sorry! I ruined my shirt... and my pants... I'm so sorry!” Rebecca patted at herself, unsurprisingly spreading the red juices all over her clothes more.

	“Hah! As if anyone here cares about such things!” Iskal boomed a laugh, and smeared a purple fruit right on his belly. “Please, undress if it will make you more comfortable, and do not beg forgiveness for showering yourself in the riches of the forest! It is what the holy fruits are for!”

	“Go on! Enjoy! Eat!” Vil toasted her with a mushroom before squeezing a blue fruit all over it, releasing an aroma that instantly reminded Rebecca of blueberry pies back home.

	The wolf never knew she could be so gluttonous. But, when she cleared the first bowl, the trio of Speth having barely grabbed a fruit each, the second arrived with a hearty chuckle from the servants. Soon, there was no pretending she could wash off the stains. The shirt and bra came off first, then her pants, leaving her only clad in white panties which soon resembled a carnival tent. Rebecca ate messily and quickly, shocked by her behavior, yet unable to stop, her paws and stomach obeying a hunger that just would not let go.

	“I couldn't eat another bite, but...”

	Her belly felt like a cauldron, rounded out between her crossed legs, pushing her breasts up. Her entire front was shiny with red, blue, orange, and violet splatters. The more she tried to wipe them off, the worse it seemed to get. Soon, she was sure her poor, overstretched stomach would pop, but no pain or nausea bothered her. If anything, Rebecca felt invigorated by every bite, ready for more. Eventually, no more bowls of fruit came, and she reclined, legs spread wide, paws clasped upon her chest, eyes half-closed with satisfaction. The wolf never knew her belly could get so big. It looked like a late-term pregnancy, and she swore even her butt and tits grew a little!

	“Well, it would seem our guest has had her fill of the holy fruits.” Iskal sighed, and stood up from where he sat. “Come along, Vil. Let Ral explain the old ways to the forest's new wife.”

	Rebecca felt hot, even a little feverish. Her head swam a little, bubbles of confused, horny thoughts coming up to the surface of her mind before popping with a belch or rumble from within her. Maybe, the fruits had some alcohol in them, the wolf thought. If so, that meant Ral and her were definitely going to do something she could never write about in a science journal. With a clarity only being in that state could bring, she was sure there was no way she could resist him now.

	“So, what's this about... urp!... being the wife of the forest?” she drawled, scooting closer to lean against the big cat.

	“It is a secret of our people.” Ral said plainly. “But, since you are in our temple, and already well on your way to learning it on your own even if I never said a word, I can share it.”

	He reached out, and gently patted her belly, drawing her attention to it. Did it shift and grow even larger while she watched?

	“The holy fruits grant great longevity, but the price is that inevitably, everyone that partakes of them will become as they are: full of juice and intoxication. We have eaten the fruit from generation to generation, so we can avoid that fate for centuries. Most outsiders begin to transform after the first bite.” he explained. “You are the wife of the forest, bound to the holy fruit you've eaten.”

	It was not what Rebecca expected to hear. She was not sure what she expected, anymore. She shook her head, and felt her breasts slosh, her skin tingling with the growth. It felt like a slow, sensuous massage from the inside, the sensations between her legs and around her navel and areolas indescribably more exciting than any arousal she ever experienced.

	“You will soon become too round to move without assistance from several Speth.”

	“Serves me right... I was gonna... oof... I slosh... I was gonna just tell everyone about this stuff.” Rebecca giggled. “So much for not wanting your gold! At least this is... pleasant. Verrry pleasant!”

	“You will have an opportunity to learn as much as you want about our people if you accept this transformation.” Ral stood up, scooping her up under her arms.

	“Do I have much of a choice?”

	She could already feel it. Her thighs rubbed against each other, rounding out bigger than roasts. Her tits stretched and wobbled until each one could be mistaken for a beach ball. And her belly now felt like it contained a small sea, heavy and roiling with lust-inducing juice. If she stood there much longer, she wondered if she would even be able to waddle to the edge of the city before she became immobile.

	“You are not a prisoner. Not entirely. While we would keep our secrets and preserve our ways, we do not want to enslave anyone. If you wish, you can leave.” Ral said, gently guiding her into the temple. “We just count on you never wanting to.”

	The occasional cautionary tale about some overeager explorer showing up back at camp covered in strange muck and a few dozen pounds fatter suddenly made a lot of sense. Usually, they were ignored as aberrations, spoiled by whatever toxin swam in their blood, and allowed to retire quietly far from everyone's sight. No one believed their reports about the Anthic Forest as a matter of course. Insane drunks were not reliable. The wolf definitely did not want to end up that way.

	“Tricky bastards.” she mumbled, tasting the delicious fruit on her lips once again.

	She wiped at a stain over her breast. The purple goop came off. The dark red coloration remained. Her fur looked unnaturally sleek and bright in the light, beautiful in an exotic way. She looked like one of the Speth, she realized, only her condition was more advanced.

	“Fine. Lead me to my fate.” she mock-growled. “I was gonna be famous, maybe even rich, but... blorple! Did I just belch cherry jam?”

	“The holy fruits work fast on you! We have to get you into the ripening chamber, quick.”

	It was hard to walk at the pace the jaguar set. Moving felt more like wading through river. No, Rebecca thought, more like carrying a sizable amount of the river! She could feel her foot-pads splaying out, flattening with the added weight, the claws beginning to sink into her toes as they plumped up. Even the wolf's tail felt weighted down. At least, the bubbly, lightheaded feeling helped a lot. Instead of panic, Rebecca's mind swung between fits of giggles and growling, bestial lust. She kept looking at Ral, pudgy paws rubbing against her sides as she imagined him drawing closer for a long, rough kiss.

	The ripening chamber, it turned out, was a spacious room deeper down the corridor, the floors covered in soft leaves and the same pillows the Speth used to sit on. The door was an impossibly wide, circular opening, curtained off by a thick blanket. It was stained every color of the rainbow.

	“Am I... Am I going to burst?”

	The question left her mouth as soon as she thought of it. The wolf felt her neck bulge out, fattening with juice, her cheeks bloating up to match. It was obvious, now, that beneath the coating of fruit residue, she was herself a ripe, red berry of a lupine. Rebecca dully wondered how she could remain standing when her gut was rapidly approaching the floor, a weighty, round balloon wobbling with juice.

	“Of course not!” the jaguar laughed. “The stains are from... something else.”

	“Oh... tell me more... what other secrets are there?” Rebecca batted her eyelashes, settling down on the pillows.

	It felt natural to rest her back on them and against the wall, now. She felt her meaty hide rounding out, her sides, belly, and backside all becoming one. The relentless fruit filling assailing her body made it awkward to try and remain standing, and she could not imagine lying atop her own gut. That just sounded intensely uncomfortable!

	“Well, we do occasionally juice the wives of the forest. It is the least we can do for you.”

	“And what else can you do for me?”

	Ral only gave her a smile, and leaned against the doorway, tapping his foot, waiting.

	It was hard to keep her neck angled toward the jaguar. Rebecca's body rapidly progressed toward sphere-hood with her feet, paws, tail, and head all that remained unaffected. And, of course, her tits. The wolf never imagined she would be looking down, past her bloated cheeks, at a pair of prize-winning pumpkins wobbling with her every breath, the nipples thick nubs more than an inch long. 

	The transformation slowed. All over, she was a rich, cherry color, her hide absorbing the juice she spilled on herself as it changed to resemble the skin of the fruits she ate. Her tail, wagging lightly behind her, felt like more of an appendage than her paws and feet, the swollen things barely wriggling when she willed them to. The pillows beneath her felt as flat as paper. She must have weighted more than five times more, she guessed, trying to measure the circumference of the red moon she turned into. A great deal of that weight settled downward, too. Rebecca felt a pressure around her crotch, the ballooned-out mound now ridiculously bloated and leaking juices over the pillows. It would have been shameful, if she could remember what shame even felt like. All Rebecca could think of was Ral, standing there, admiring, clearly aroused but holding back.

	“Ohhh... come on, surely that's... it. I feel like I'm going to just... roll onto my back... and pass out!” she panted, beads of brilliant, red sweat appearing on her cheeks and forehead. “Please... just come over here... come on!”

	“Oh, no, I will wait for all this,” the feline pointed at her billowing form. “to calm down. Trust me, you do not want sharp claws near you while you're changing. Our holy fruits do not ripen properly if pricked or bruised.”

	It made sense, but Rebecca's lust would not take 'no' for an answer. As if to make up for the lack of mobility, her senses sharpened, her mouth watering from the smell the big cat gave off. He was definitely here to mate her. Nothing else made sense. And, she found herself thinking, she needed nothing else. What was some dry scholarly life, compared to this? Just wobbling like a jelly dessert in this room gave her more instant satisfaction than any number of lovers and intrigues back home! A silly thought materialized, unbidden. Publishing in her present state would be difficult, or even impossible: her paws were like miniature fruits themselves, the individual digits too juiced-up to press a typewriter's keys, much less clench around a pen.

	Eventually, the changes slowed. The juice no longer forced itself between her full lips, and her fur, sleek and shiny, was no a uniform ripe red. More importantly, her innards made much less noise. The sloshing remained, of course, a constant counter to her breathing, but it was no longer accompanied by creaks and gurgles of organs unused to such strain.

	“Is this... it?” she mumbled, trying to focus her gaze on the jaguar as he stepped closer.

	Ral took his time examining her. He measured her with his claws, prodding along her bust, over her areolas, down her vast middle, and around her navel. The feline moved like an expert judge at a country fair, looking over every little blemish and bit of fur out of place, smoothing, patting, and occasionally caressing, leaving behind furious heat and tingling, as if every part of the wolf was an erogenous zone.

	“You do seem healthy and whole.” the jaguar said. “And when you meet other wives of the forest, you will be among the most well-filled.”

	“Well-filled? You haven't even...” Rebecca could not finish the sentence, reduced to laborious breathing and slow wobbles, her immensely bloated mound releasing bubbles of juice.

	“Very well.” the jaguar nodded. “How can I hold back with such a large beauty before me?”

	She felt his heat, even as feverish as she felt. The wolf's taut skin squished beneath his paws, what little give she had exhausted when he clung to her belly. He shifted her more, angling her fattened pussy lips to his cock, his member like a steel rod rubbing over her vice-tight slit. He sank in slowly, growling with effort, mewling up at her when she bore down on his pulsating meat. Rebecca could not stop herself if she wanted. The pleasure had her. When the jaguar thrust in, the feeling traveled in a thick, liquid ripple up through her. Droplets of juice formed around her nipples, and then suddenly spurted when her chest momentarily grew by an inch before the tide within her receded.

	Buried inside the wolf, the jaguar found his rhythm, a forceful pounding, a slow drum beat through her overfull being that set stars swimming in her vision. It was deliciously decadent. Rebecca never overate before making love, but this felt much like that: every part of her satisfied, every part of her humming and thrumming with a powerful, building orgasm, her mind floating, numb with filling. She wondered if the big cat would knock her out when the pleasure reached its crescendo, and what a fountain she would make if her muscles all relaxed suddenly. She felt on the verge of flooding the whole room as it was. At her swollen crotch, she felt how wet and slick Ral was becoming, his whole lower body drenched with cherry flavor.

	“Are you close?”

	The question sounded silly in her current state, and came from too far away. The sounds of sloshing in Rebecca's ears would not let up. She nodded, her chin slamming into her own vast bosom, adding to the shivering, water-balloon jiggles all over her round form. But, then, the feline seemed just as overwhelmed. That cock squeezing its way in and out of her pulsed in a familiar way; Rebecca recalled a stallion one-night-stand ending just like that. Except, the pony was not an impossibly strong, sleek jaguar with the stamina and lust to match her own newly expanded appetites. He yowled, paws leaving her belly to clench into fists atop its swell, and shoved so deep she swore she felt his whole groin shove her fat pussy lips apart.

	She closed her eyes, the pressure becoming too much. Cum hit her, what felt like a gallon of the stuff adding to the juice already within her womb. The cat shuddered, Rebecca's tits spewing with her lover's climax, and like a peal of thunder, her own peak hit. The wolf exploded, and yet stayed terrifically overburdened and whole. A flood of cherry spilled over the ripening chamber, flushed from her by the orgasm, and there was more, vastly more still fighting for space within the lupine.

	Rebecca groaned, the full weight of her body rising up, her body squelching lewdly around Ral's length before falling back, utterly exhausted, too round to ever repeat even that meager bit of movement. Her mind scattered by the intensity of bliss, the wolf released a breathless giggle. Who cares if she can ever move again? Let the Speth roll her around!

	“You're...huff...quite a lot!” Rebecca said, when her body ceased its sloshing.

	The jaguar said nothing for a while, lying against her. He eventually withdrew from the wolf, leaving her slit to close, nothing but a peachy seam running her mound.

	“Thank you, Rebecca. You are a fine wife of the forest, and I hope we will mate again.”

	“Again? I just need a little rest, and then... I will roll on top of you like a water mattress... hehe!”

	Ral chuckled. They both knew her paws and feet would never budge her.

	“You will meet with the others tomorrow. Our tradition lasted for thousands of years so far, and you will learn all things about the Anthic Forest from the mouths of those that saw its trees as saplings.” the feline purred.

	“I love thus, but if I said 'no' I would spend the rest of my days as a boozed-up berry in the outside world... I couldn't choose that.” Rebecca said, feeling herself drifting into a satisfied stupor.

	“We offered to drain them, once they learned what the cost of the holy fruits is.” Ral laid next to her rounded side. “But, for some reason, nobody ever chooses that. They would rather be here with us, keeping our secret forever, or enjoying themselves out there before the fruit juice dries up.”

	“Oh.”

	Rebecca imagined choosing to stop. To reduce herself. After the high she reached, that felt like the stupidest move in her life. And here was a living culture of people enjoying this wonderful fullness, ready to be explored...

	“Do I get to keep you?” she asked.

	“Me, and anyone else you want. The wives of the forest must be worshiped in whatever way they desire.” the jaguar patted her firm belly. “Your juice will ripen better with a vigorous shaking, too.”

	Rebecca nodded. This was what her curiosity brought her to. The Anthic Forest trapped her, and she was helpless in its clutches for the rest of her long, long life. Tomorrow, she could look forward to more love-making, more exotic fruit, and a meeting with some of the most knowledgeable experts of Anthic Forest lore. It was, whatever the impact on her figure, the best thing that could have happened. Definitely beats being eaten by a carnivorous plant, Rebecca decided with a smile, sleep overtaking her.

	The End.