Gasp. gasp. Calm down, dammit. I rub my legs over my ovipostor, getting used to my size and proportions. Concepts and information boil up at me out of...my brain: I' a five-foot-tall, twelve-foot-wide freaking spider. The game. Consensual reality. Damn! I'm on a sleeper ship. Zeegee. I don't feel any gravity. Things start to come together.We collectively call ourselves the untriggered. We live and die as pupae until we arrive. The consensual reality we call "The Game" keeps us sane as we travel. I had brought three snares and three spare tent pegs and proceeded to peg the snares adjacent to some of the burrows.When I returned to the tent and sat down I admitted to myself that I had been trying to keep busy, to occupy my mind rather than give it time to think about the death of the highlander. When I sat, I felt my body shaking again in reaction. Guilt has an uncanny way of eating you up from the inside, finding your weakest spots and gnawing away at them. Guilt comes from your own. ''''dont be shy, its perfect for lil clitty, you will feel so good in it''''cute little cocklette love to be hidden away in smooth panty ''''no its not true, i never wear panty''''here let me show you , just try them , you can get em off if you dont feel good''he pulled my legs up and removed my boy underwear on my back on the couch legs up by him sliding me in a smooth , way too smooth , little pink pantybefore lowering my legs and help me sit on the couch looking down , it fit so. There wasn’t much room on the floor; but several groups had organized themselves into clusters. ‘The Madison’, I think that’s what the dance was called.When we finished, before we could start the next song, everyone yelled out “Again! Again!” Phil looked at us, covered the mike, and asked “Shall we?” We all nodded, and he stepped back to his mike.“You all liked that?” Huge cheers. “Okay, one more time, now maybe you can get your dance groups together...”This time, maybe the front third of the.