A Pervert's Dream Land.

Kael collapsed onto his bed, his heart finally slowing its frantic pace. He felt drained, his body heavy and spent.

He didn’t understand the rules—the idea that people here were free to take what they wanted, that promises were the only currency that mattered, and that his mother’s body was a gift that could be shared.

He didn’t know the history, but as he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, he knew that the veil had been lifted.

The mystery of his mother’s openness, the strange behavior of the town, and his own rising, unquenchable desires were all pieces of a larger, darker puzzle that he was slowly, inexorably beginning to solve.

****

"Kael, it’s time to wake up."

Kael blinked, his eyes adjusting to the sunlight streaming through the room. He climbed out of bed, still adjusting to the strange reality of his new life. He made his way to the kitchen area, where Amber was busy preparing their morning meal.

Amber was there, moving with graceful, rhythmic efficiency as she prepared their morning meal. He didn’t think twice as he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight, grounding embrace.

It wasn’t sexual; he simply craved the grounding presence of another human being. In a single, jarring day, he had died while trying to save a mother and child from a horrific accident, only to awaken in the body of a man in the town of Korua who had met a similarly grim end.

Amber didn’t question the sudden intimacy. She turned within his arms, pulling him close and pressing his head against her chest.

Kael felt his face sink into the soft, comforting warmth of her breasts, and for a fleeting moment, the existential dread of his transition faded.

"You’re safe, Kael," she whispered, stroking his hair.

"I know," he murmured, pulling away with a faint, embarrassed smile. He looked around the room, noticing the silence. "Is the breakfast ready?"

"Yes in just a moment, My baby," Amber replied, sensing his meaning. She moved toward the door as a sharp, rhythmic knock echoed through the room. "That must be the milk delivery lady."

Amber said, pulling away with a gentle smile. She handed him an empty earthen pot. "Kael, could you please be a dear and take this to get our portion?"

Kael took the pot, his mind racing. He searched the fractured memories of his host for any trace of the ’milk lady,’ but came up empty. Deciding to play it safe, he kept his expression neutral and pulled the heavy door open.

Standing on the threshold was a woman who seemed to defy the very laws of physics.

She was mature, dressed in a simple black garment that hugged her frame, with a few stray bangs framing a face marked by a wide, welcoming smile.

But Kael’s attention was instantly captured by her chest. He thought Amber’s figure was generous, but this woman’s breasts were gargantuan—veritable pillows that seemed to demand all the space in the room.

’I absolutely have to see those without the fabric,’ he thought, his pulse spiking as his gaze lingered on the heavy swell of her cleavage.

He found himself imagining her body, rationalizing that her size must be due to her line of work—perhaps she produced her own milk.

He felt an intense, burning need to see them bare, to understand how they felt, and even found himself wondering if they were as heavy as they looked.

*She must have been nursing recently,* he rationalized, his gaze lingering far longer than was polite.

Lyla caught him staring, but instead of being offended, she merely beamed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, Kael! It seems you’ve finally recovered from your injury."

Before he could respond, she surged forward and wrapped him in a crushing hug. The sensation was overwhelming; he felt himself sinking into the sheer volume of her cleavage.

*Dammit,* Kael thought, his pulse spiking as his body reacted instantly to the contact. *Why is everyone in this town so physically affectionate?*

Realizing that his trousers were failing to hide his sudden, eager arousal, he gently wriggled out of her embrace, careful not to cause a scene. "Thank you, Miss...?"

"Lyla. Just Lyla," she said, her eyes twinkling.

Amber stepped up behind him. "Pardon him, Lyla. This poor boy hit his head during his accident and has been struggling to recall his neighbors."

Lyla’s expression turned solemn. "That’s concerning, Amber. Shouldn’t you take him to the healing hall?"

"I’ve suggested it, but he insists his memory is returning," Amber sighed.

"Well, rest up, Kael. Next week is the awakening ceremony—you’ll need your strength," Lyla said, offering a conspiratorial wink.

She handed the full pot to Kael, the weight of the clay cool in his hands. "Amber, here is your ration for the day."

"Can’t you stay for breakfast?" Amber asked.

"No can do. I’ve still got half the district to visit," Lyla replied, turning toward her cart, which was pulled by a large, gentle creature that looked like a bovine hybrid.

"Granny sends her best, by the way! Good luck with the ceremony, Kael!"

As she walked away, Amber watched her go with a look of lingering frustration. "She’s always in such a rush. She never has time for her childhood friends anymore."

Kael closed the door and turned back to the kitchen, where Amber was setting out plates. They sat on the floor, the smell of fresh fruit filling the room. Kael took a slow breath, deciding to test the boundaries of their new dynamic.

"Hey, Mom," Kael asked, watching her chew on a piece of melon. "Why were Lyla’s... well, her breasts so much larger than yours? I thought yours were the most beautiful ones in town."

Amber tilted her head, a playful, teasing light in her eyes. "Oh, is my little boy disappointed in his mother?"

"I’m asking a serious question," Kael insisted, trying to keep his composure.

Amber laughed, a musical sound that filled the room.

"Silly boy. If she didn’t have such a generous figure, how do you think she could produce enough milk to supply every household in this district?"

Kael froze. The liquid he was just beginning to swallow caught in his throat, and he ended up spraying a mouthful of white milk all over the floor. He stared at the small earthen pot in horror.

"You... you mean to tell me," he stammered, pointing a trembling finger at the pot, "that everything we’ve been drinking since yesterday... it came from *her*?"

****

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