Chapter 129: 121. Field Town, Part 3: Kani’s News (R-18)

121. Field Town, Part 3: Kani’s News (R-18)

“I won’t beat around the bush for the following topic. I kidnapped a bunch of children from Charlatan Forest today.” The mingled group of human and Mandragora children look at me with fearful and angry gazes. “I need someone to ensure they’re properly cared for, educated, and protected. This is an important job.”

“Yes, it’s my job!” Heather the Flower Dryad says.

I don’t necessarily want to take this away from her. She’s terrible, but I spared her life for two reasons. One, the kids know her. Two, she seems to honestly want to protect the kids. Without the Elder Tree around, she’s probably harmless. The question is whether she’ll actively work against me.

“Then kneel.”

Mother Heather glares at me with defiance in her eyes as she refuses to bend the knee.

Hmph. I summon my crab armor, conjuring Flame magic to my left and a Dark Magic light show (the only thing I can reliably do with Dark Magic is not blow myself up, but it is visually impressive) to my right. My audience seems suitably cowed by my power display, complimented by my monstrous appearance, but not the rosy Flower Dryad.

The kids leap to Heather’s defense, saying things like, ‘Don’t hurt flower mommy,’ ‘Leave us alone,’ and ‘Don’t take our daddy away.’

The Flower Dryad refuses to submit until Douglas puts a hand on her arm and says, “Give it up. Don’t throw everything away for that twisted old tree.” Her shoulders slump, and she falls to her knees.

“Don’t hurt anyone,” I tell her. “All my rules apply to you as well. And don’t try to escape.”

Heather nods, frustrated, but barely compliant. The children settle down.

“Lady Mayoress,” Douglas says, “I’d like to stay part of the kids’ lives if that’s alright.”

Even after being raped for decades… his offspring continuously defiled into Hybrid monsters… depending on how long the Elder has been doing this, Douglas may have even replaced his father in that role. And yet he still really cares about them—even the Mandragoras that aren’t his.

“That’s fine, of course. Your help is appreciated,” I say, internally wanting to give him a fucking medal of honor.

“Excuse me, Lady Mayoress, but maybe I could help with the children?” I turn to see who said that, and it’s Lois, Cottontail and Megan’s mom, the previous first lady of the Warren. She certainly would have experience raising kids at her age.

“I’m an old hand with this too,” Gretta the former Harpy Mountain ‘town bicycle’ says. It seems like Aello brought all the Harpy prisoners with them to dinner. “Maybe we split them up by gender for part of the day so they’re easier to deal with?” That might be a good idea, especially to make sure this MILF doesn’t poach any of the young bucks turning eighteen for herself.

“That’s great!” I say, “The four of you can make camp on the far side of the Hut.” All the better to be out of earshot of tonight’s orgy. “Hey, um, weird question, but are any of you Mandragoras at least eighteen years old?” If we’re going to try anything to help Gabby evolve, I want it to at least be with someone who can consent as an adult.

The children all form up around the tallest boy in defensive positions. Such good kids.

“Everyone, it’s alright. Stay with Mother Heather.” A beansprout of a boy says as he steps forward. I mean that almost literally; he’s tall and skinny with the palest shade of green I’ve seen on a Mandragora and a shock of darker green hair.

“Excellent. Brave young man, would you please come over here? We need your help for a project,” I say. He stops the children from protesting and approaches me. “How about you take over the kids’ portion of food tonight to show them you’re fine, later? Sound good?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.” His prominent Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he punctuates his reply with a nervous gulp.

“Okay, you volunteers can take turns watching the kids and helping us make dinner over here until we’re through for the night.”

““Yes, Lady Mayoress,”” Douglas, Lois, and Gretta say together. Then the four adults, including Mother Heather, lead the children away. Interestingly, Doug and Gretta hug and start chatting arm in arm like they have decades to catch up on. I guess I do remember Gretta saying she was born in Charlatan Forest.

“Are they gone?” Nicole, the cantaloupe-breasted Fruit Nymph with an eggplant cock and apricot testicles hidden beneath her grass skirt and top says like she’s holding her breath.

I give it another five-count after the last little head rounds a corner. Five… four… three… two… one. “Yep, this is an eighteen-plus crowd again.”

All three Fruit Nymphs’ cocks burst free of their grass skirt containments to full erection as they exhale in unison. “Oh, thank God Beast, I thought I was going to nut if I had to keep it squeezed between my legs any longer,” Serra, the grape-pigtailed Fruit Nymph with a papaya dong says.

I raise a hand to protect beansprout boy’s impressionable eyes, but he stands on his tiptoes to look over the edge of my palm to get a better look. Oh, well. He’s eighteen, after all.

“Yeah, that was rough,” Marcy (Brenda’s sister), the Fruit Nymph with a banana cock and voluptuous strawberry breasts says as she peels herself and starts stroking her sweet fleshy length. Lots of monster eyes land on those big, swinging, exotic fruits. “I wanna fuck someone’s butt so fucking bad!!!”

I block beansprout’s ears this time, but he just pulls them away. Alright, that ship has officially sailed. Welcome to Team Pervert, kid.

“Wait, time, hold on, I’ve got another item to discuss before we get to that.”

“Aww!” Nicole whines. She looks the most mature of the three but seems to be the least so in personality.

“I can do it!” Serra says, pumping herself up for another few minutes of abstinence. “I can do it!”

“Not me, I need to reset,” Marcy announces as she starts masturbating furiously, squirting a thick stream of banana juice onto the floor in under ten seconds. “Ahhh, that’s the stuff.”

“No fair! No fair!” Serra complains.

“Ahem!” I shout to retake the floor. All eyes on me again. “Anyway, I need a volunteer to take care of the Bee Girl larvae. Someone responsible, gentle, loving, and motherly for when they hatch.”

I wait for a few seconds in silence before someone raises their voice.

“Spindle will do it.”

Blinking in shock, I stare at the demonic Wicked Weaver who was scaring the former prisoners straight not minutes before. She’s the opposite of all the characteristics I listed!

“Vermillion, Spindle gets the feeling you were thinking something dreadfully uncharitable just now.”

“It’s just that you’re, well… evil?”

The Webling gives me a blank look I can’t begin to interpret.

She doesn’t even deny it!

“Spindle is a fellow bug-type monster. She understands their physiological needs better than anyone here. Order her to nurture them to the best of her ability,” Spindle says in a flat voice.

“…Spindle, I order you to nurture the Sweet Bees to the best of your ability.”

“Wonderful!” the Wicked Weaver exclaims, clasping her hands together in joy. She instantly begins bustling about, snagging each Bee Girl larvae into the air with a sticky-tipped thread while weaving spells with all four pairs of hands as glowing purple fabric materializes in the air before her. “Spindle can regulate their optimal temperature to within a tenth of a degree to accelerate their incubation period for the maximum efficiency.” Soon each pupa is snuggly tucked into a sock-like carrying case and each sock is woven into what looks like a spider egg sac.

“Um, can you do anything about this one?” I ask, doffing my armor to point at the Bee Girl larva that glued herself to my chest. If the Webling can’t do it, relying on Gabby’s Herbalist evolution to devise an adhesive remover is my last option.

Spindle eyes it for less than half a moment before she has a length of garrote wire in hand. “Hold still, Vermillion. This requires concentration.”

The thin bladelike edge of the magical garrote wire is perfect for cutting the pupa away from me as close to flesh as possible. That, along with my Ogre Tough Lizardman Scales allows Spindle to give me a razor-fine shave without drawing blood or puncturing the vulnerable pupa’s outer membrane. Because the length of the wire is flexible, she’s able to cut along the curved edges of my breasts without faltering. When she’s finished, I can’t even feel any tackiness from glue residue remaining on my scales. That’s how close the wire came to my body!

She adds that last pupa to the rest and hoists the ten Bee Girl larvae to the upper corner of the pavilion ceiling where she secures the packaging with more webbing just like a real spider. Spindle does everything responsibly with a mother’s gentle loving care, not leaving anything to chance while giving the larvae every opportunity to succeed.

Therein lies Spindle’s internal contradiction. She’s an absolute demonic terror, but nearly everyone who met her before or since her transformation has nothing but positive things to say about the so-called Wicked Webling. I’m just glad she’s on our side.

“With that settled, we can finally get onto the main issue,” I say, “Feeding everyone.” Most of my audience has already guessed my solution given the fact the guest stars are quite literally made of edible fruit, but I explain things anyway. “I rescued some Fruit Nymphs from Charlatan Forest today. They are former humans, and currently of sound mind, but it seems impossible to return them to their previous lives. These nymphomaniacs get extremely horny to the point they can’t think straight until after they climax. Similarly to Flower Dryads, apparently, they can produce fruit for consumption after receiving male seed. Their special ability is being able to create unique fruits that taste like anything, even raw meat.”

Lots of salivating from the Harpy, Goblinoid, and Canine corners.

“In other words, they need cum to make fruit, but they love to fuck and be fucked. So, you can fuck and then eat, and eat and then fuck. But, please, proceed in a calm, orderly manner. No fighting over fruit or Nymphs. No pushing or shoving, and no kinky stuff without enthusiastic consent; you get the idea. That said, everybody needs to do their part to make sure there’s enough food for the kids too, so don’t hold back!”

“Finally, I’m horny out of my mind!” Nicole shouts.

“COME AND GET IT!” Serra screams while wagging her papaya cock like a dinner bell. Marcy and Nicole get into it too, shaking their hips and twerking their asses at the starving, lusty crowd.

The orgy becomes extremely chaotic very quickly. Spindle, Gabby, and Drosera have to apply crowd control spells to keep things from immediately going out of control despite all my warnings. But it’s from excitement, not malice, and the injuries are minor, so punishments are light.

I see the Hob girls simultaneously suckling Serra’s pomegranate breasts, the Orc screwing Nicole’s mouth with his porcine spiral cock, a mouse boy stopping the male Dire Wolf from knotting Marcy’s ass by taking the load in his mouth instead, Serra mounting a Goblin girl doggystyle with her big papaya, Red the Harpy boy and a bunny girl drinking from Nicole’s cantaloupe tits, a mouse boy riding Marcy crouched on her shoulders with his dick between her lips, the Doggin boy plowing Serra’s pussy, Nicole clapping a Harpy’s cheeks with her fat eggplant dong, and a Dire Wolf girl sharing Marcy’s strawberry milk with a mouse girl.

After a few minutes of the free-for-all, we manage to organize a somewhat reasonable queue. Each Fruit Nymph can service five at a time, depending on preference: one fucking them from behind to deposit seed into their ass or pussy, one taking the Fruit Nymph’s cock in their ass, pussy, or mouth, one on each of the Fruit Nymph’s breasts, and one for the Fruit Nymph to fellate for another dose of seed. Their cum and milk seem to be nigh-inexhaustible as long as they continue receiving sexual fluids.

That’s fifteen a session, which is pretty good considering the size of our crowd. Then a few minutes' break while the Fruit Nymphs chat up each other or their latest partners during their post-nut clarity refractory periods. During that time, Nicole, Serra, and Marcy use their Nymph magic to produce a crop of exotic fruits from the earthen ground—usually happy to take requests with no limit but the petitioner’s imagination. Blood oranges, kidney beans, cum-cumbers, liver mangoes (Gabby’s favorite), rocky mountain oyster cherries, eyeball grapes, cerebral melons, tongue tamarinds, sweetbreadfruit, heart apples, cumquats, fatty pears, butt-crack peaches, and other delicacies I don’t dare touch all make an appearance. All the carnivores have a great time trading their creations and socializing as they pick their favorites.

The Fuzzy Folk all pick boring, normal fruits they insist are the tastiest they’ve ever tried. Ho-hum.

“Finally, I can hear what you have to say, Kani. Sorry it took so long.” I offer her a blood orange as compensation. She’s not dexterous enough to peel it with her crab claws, so I do the work for her, feeding my Cancer girlfriend the individual segments one at a time while seated on her shell. She cutely eats from my hand, reminding me why I fancied her so much when I met her back in the grotto. I wrap one arm around her back, use another to appreciate the sudsy slickness of her tummy, and another to fondle her sporty breasts while using my fourth hand to hold the orange segments.

I want to show my lover some appreciation, but I’m dreading whatever looming doom she’s about to lay on me. There’s no way she came all the way over dry land while braving the hot sun to bring me good news!

She swallows a mouthful of fruit, and a trickle of bloody juice runs down the corner of her mouth. I bite my lip at the sexy sight. Then she pouts at me. “I had good news, but you went and spoiled some of it with your speech back there, Lady Mayoress.”

Interesting; sometimes, I love being wrong. “Please, Kani? I didn’t mean to undercut anything, honest. I was only trying to get some things out of the way before hearing the important thing you wanted to tell me.”

“Very well.” Kani straightens, assuming a noble bearing as she relays her news, “Ahem, I’m here on behalf of Lady Ariella to tell you she’s successfully conquered the Mermaid Cove.”

I blink in surprise. That is unexpected! I hadn’t even heard about a so-called Mermaid Cove. My Hometown knows jack-shit about the ocean, though.

But way to go, Ariella! Girlboss the crap out of that thing!

“Ariella evolved into a Triton Seafolk after our meeting, correct?” Gabby says. “That’s a Superior-rank Mer monster, so I can see her taking over the local population.”

“Wow, congrats. I assume you helped?” I ask Kani.

The crab girl nods. “I protected my Lady from foul play as she ritualistically dueled every Mer in the Cove for the past three days and nights to assert her dominance.” Sheesh, she started the night after I left? That girl works hard. “She sent me as soon as she was officially named Lady of the Cove.”

“Okay, how does what I said mess that up?”

Kani harrumphs at me as if I’ve forgotten something. “Even though Lady Ariella is your first wife, she acquiesced to you living with Miss Gabby, your second wife, because your human biology wasn’t suited to living at sea. The arrangement was that Miss Gabby would protect you between visits. Since that day, Ariella has been working tirelessly to make a place for you to come live with us.

“The Cove has a human population, along with all the monster prey the Mer can catch. Even though she now has a harem of humans, monsters, and Seafolk at her beck and call, she never forgot you, Alex. She sent me to fetch you the moment it was safe. She even invited Gabby to join us as a sister wife since the Gobliness bears your spawn.”

Oh. “Yeah, that’s obviously not happening now. I can’t simply walk away from everything I’ve built.”

“I know,” Kani says with a sigh. “She misses you.”

“I miss her too, Kani. Both of you. I’ve been meaning to visit, but it never felt like the right time with other things going on.” I offer an olive branch. “Ariella and I are married, though. We should totally meet up and join our holdings together like how Cottontail’s New Warren became part of Field Town.”

“Fieldton,” Gabby corrects, despite my having named the damn thing.

If this place eventually becomes the City of Fieldton, I’m going to scream.

Kani nods. “All’s well that ends well, I suppose. It’s just a shame Lady Ariella went to all this trouble so she could bring you to the Cove without having to worry about you being sacrificed, only to have it not matter.”

Aaaand there it is.

“Say what?”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The crab girl reads my confusion and clarifies, “Oh, well, Ariella is the Lady of the Cove now, but the Kraken is the true ruler of the coast, of course. She doesn’t meddle with our lives much, thankfully. All She requires is a single monthly sacrifice, which is totally reasonable as far as monster monarchs go. It’s usually a rodent kin, or a Goblin captured after falling in the water, or a Harpy caught bathing that ends up being chosen but, once a year, the Kraken demands a human sacrifice be presented at the Underwater Ruin.”

“It’s this month, isn’t it?”

“Correct. When the full moon is at its zenith,” Kani adds.

“Four nights hence,” Gabby finishes.

Damn, I can’t let that happen. “It looks like I’ll be visiting the Cove before the end of the month, Kani. I’ve got to beat the Kraken before it eats anyone else.”

This time, it’s Kani’s turn to stare at me like I’m nuts. “She’s a Kraken. A Kraken, Alex. What are you thinking?”

“Average rank third-tier,” Gabby tells me. A whole rank higher than the Elder Tree. “Could be a tough fight even by then if you’re going alone.”

Yeah, the big factor at play there will be who can even make the journey to fight by my side.

“Kani, I get stronger every day with every monster I defeat. I’m leading my forces against the Wolf Lord and Ogre General the day after tomorrow. Whether I face the Kraken before or after, it’s a job that needs doing.”

She eyes me up and down again. “You sure look like a powerful monster. If I didn’t know you were human, I wouldn’t have doubted you. My apologies for the insult, Lady Alex.”

I beam at her, making the crab girl blush umber, “Thanks.” I gesture at the feast, “Please, enjoy yourself. I’d love for you to spend the night, or at least as long as you can before reporting back to Ariella.” The crab girl takes me up on the offer and goes to find some more blood oranges.

With that resolved, we can address something long overdue—Getting my gal Gabby her next evolution.