Monster Breeder

113. Charlatan Forest, Part 8 (R-18)

“Move out.” The Stranglers’ captives happen to be headed in the same direction my Partner Tracker is leading me.

“We’re just going to walk away?” Gabby asks me with incredulous verve. Her eyes are practically glued to the Elder's 'staff.'

I click my tongue in frustration. This doesn’t make me any happier than her, and I don’t like being berated about it. “Rescuing Gale and Megan is my first priority. If Flou’s body gets damaged, she can reform a new copy from her other cores; small mercies. We’ll see what we can do about the Elderberry Treefolk once our group is reunited.”

I’m not optimistic. That tree is bad news. I haven’t forgotten how the fight with Aello went. Her magic was devastating, but her (relatively) frail body was a weakness. If Spindle hadn’t been there to exploit that angle… let’s just say the Elder doesn’t have a fragile body holding back his third-tier magic.

Gabby takes my concession and settles down for the moment. She really wants that tree’s dick—but not in a sexual way! Probably.

I bet she’s hoping it’ll let her cast third-tier magic the way she uses the Twisted Apple Treefolk’s rod as a spellcasting focus. That would be a huge boon for the upcoming battle.

“That poor girl,” Jonny says, thinking of the woman transformed by unholy ritual into a Fruit Nymph. "And that Mandragora boy..."

“Her name was Marcy,” Brenda adds from her place on the chest of Jonny’s stone suit. "And the boy, Poppler, h-he was..." her voice hitches despite her throat being made of stone and slime. "Marcy took my place."

“Fuck,” I curse under my breath. I should’ve guessed Brenda would know the victims since she was born here.

Jonny seems stunned, but he manages to gasp, “It could’ve been you.”

“Almost was.”

Then that means… “Brenda, the Willows, and Stranglers we’ve met…”

“They used to be my brothers and sisters.”

Damn. Fucking God Beast damn this place.

“We’re nearly there,” Drosera announces. He’s done a good job steering us clear of watchful Treefolk while following the new Fruit Nymph to the Prisoner Pen at a discreet distance.

The ‘jail’ if it can be called that, is comprised of Strangler Fig Treefolk standing in a wide circle with their wooden tentacle fingers intertwined into a fence. Inside are the typical denizens of the region: an Orc, two female Hobs, a male Dire Wolf, a Doggin boy, a Goblin girl, a bunny girl, and a mouse boy. We arrived about an hour too late to rescue the Dire Wolf and Orcess eaten by the Elder.

A Fruit Nymph with bunches of grapes in her hair like pigtails, pomegranate breasts with the flower partway open to show the jewel-like fruit inside, a papaya cock, and fuzzy kiwi testicles is currently rutting the shit out of the Dire Wolf’s ass doggystyle. He’s not happy being a bottom no matter how succulent the pomegranate tits squishing against his back are, but there’s a Twisted Apple Treefolk on guard (if by ‘on guard’ I mean pointing and laughing at the Dire Wolf’s predicament) keeping him from fighting her off.

Also in the Pen is a Fruit Nymph with raspberry hair, cantaloupe breasts, an eggplant cock, and apricot testis fucking the Orc. A Strangler has the Orc restrained and partially choked while the eggplant Nymph screws his prone butt. He wears a weary expression of long-suffering. I’m guessing he’s that Nymph’s favorite.

Last is the Fruit Nymph formerly known as Marcy. A bunny girl is riding her reverse-cowgirl while playing with the cherries between her legs. At least someone is having fun.

The other prisoners are gathered in the middle eating an abundance of alien fruit with somber expressions. Gone is the animosity between predator and prey or between rival clans. There’s an element of comradery in their mutual capture and shared fate evident by how close they sit in their circle.

It must be feeding time, and the Nymphs are here to extract payment for services rendered.

I stride forward and everyone turns to look at me except the Fruit Nymphs. I see fear on every face and realize I must look a fright. This morning, I may have passed as an exotic Kobold evolution. Now, I have Slime hair, four arms, and insect wings in addition to my green scales and Orc height. I probably seem to be a terrifying Hybrid monster of some kind.

“You each have exactly one chance to surrender.”

While the Strangler Figs forming the Pen’s fence untangle their limbs to come at me, I fling an Air Blade their way that cuts a third of them into unrecognizable pasta. The remainder are too close to the prisoners to risk another such attack.

Jonny and I wade into melee range with Gabby supporting us using Plant Growth spells or counterspells as the case may be. Drosera with his pink Jellyfish dress stays back to guard the carriage with the Bee Girl larvae, as he should.

I leap into the fray with crustaceous gauntleted fists. Venom darts aren't going to work well against wooden bodies and scattering burning embers in close proximity to hostages seems like a bad idea. I rip and tear the Stranglers apart as they come at me. They have no idea I'd hesitate if they used the prisoners as shields, so it’s a bit of good fortune they don’t consider the move. The larvae glued to my chest gives me an extra weak point to consider, but I have Predator Sense to help dodge dangerous attacks and crab armor for the lesser blows and scrapes.

Jonny walks through entangling Strangler vines like a force of nature, casually snapping them with each step. His stony fist hammers the Twisted Apple Treefolk until bark shatters and wood splinters. A Strangler jumps on him, and Brenda opens a crack in the suit's stone skin to pour green acid onto wooden limbs that sizzle and smoke.

The Orc grabs his Fruit Nymph by the neck in the confusion and the Dire Wolf rolls away from his fruity 'paramour' while transforming into great wolf form.

"I said one chance to surrender! Sit your asses the fuck down!" I yell while ripping a Strangler's tangled tentacle head from its shoulders.

They both sit with wan expressions. Good boys. The Fruit Nymphs have no conception of what's happening, wanting nothing more than to continue rutting, but are easily held at bay by the weary warriors. Their fellow prisoners see my reaction to their bid for freedom and wisely remain seated by the food.

Gabby watches our backs while we work, arraying suppressive spellfire against our opponents. Plant Growth entangles the entanglers while Earth Magic makes Stranglers stumble and the Treefolk tumble with the help of Jonny pushing them down.

It's barely a fight. Drosera doesn't need to do anything because no enemies are drawn to the sound of battle and the prison guards make no attempt to flee. Either they're sworn to fight to the death or too stupid to think of warning the Elder.

When the battle is done, the already cowed prisoners are submissive as Lambies. Marcy finishes inside the horny bunny girl with an ecstatic cry and seems to gain a moment of post-nut clarity as banana juice squirts from the smallfolk's pussy.

"W-where am I? What happened?"

"You're inside me; that's all that matters," the bunny girl says with a contented sigh as her tummy ripples around the girthy insertion stuffing her cunt.

"Marcy?" The Stone Ooze separates from Jonny to reform her body.

"Brenda? Is that you?"

They tearfully embrace as the prisoners look on in confusion, none more so than the bunny girl whose belly still bulges with Marcy's banana cock. The bunny girl looks over her shoulder at the reunited sisters and asks, "Um? Is this turning into a threesome, or...? I should go," before awkwardly extracting the yellow berry from her pussy and climbing off the Fruit Nymph. 

"Brenda, what happened to Poppler? Where is he?"

Yikes. That's not an emotional knot we have time to untangle right now. "Alright, everyone up. Grab the Fruit Nymphs; small critters get inside the carriage, and everyone else walks alongside."

"Um, that's a Sundew Trap…" a Hob girl says.

"I fucking know what he is! And he knows what'll happen to him if he eats you. What the lot of you need to know is that I’ll cut the arms off any who harm each other. Harm the larvae, and I’ll rip off your genitals. Stand aside while anyone else harms them, and I’ll tear out your eyes. Behave yourselves to get an invite to tonight’s vegan feast/orgy. That is all.”

Carrot and stick.

The mouse boy, the bunny girl with her banana juice-swollen belly, and Goblin girl pile into the Sundew carriage with extreme caution when they see the pupae piled in the center. The other prisoners fall in line purely from fear of me. The Orc and the Dire Wolf herd their respective Fruit Nymphs along, leading them by the knobs with reluctant handjobs.

“Marcy, I need you to stay calm. Poppler, he—mmph!”

The newly made Fruit Nymph claims Brenda’s lips with hers, silencing the Stone Ooze. “You’re so pretty,” Marcy says when they separate. Her eyes are already glazing again. “I bet your mouth wants a taste of banana almost as much as I want to feel your throat with this big thing, heh, heh.”

Seeing Marcy can’t be reasoned with, Brenda throws the weakly protesting Fruit Nymph over her shoulder and joins the caravan with Jonny in tow. I lead us in the direction my Partner Tracker dictates at a near-run.

“Alex, you realize we’re heading in the opposite direction of the Elder?” Gabby says while struggling to keep pace with me on her short legs. Even bound by her robes, the Goblin shortstack’s heavy bosom bounces with wildly inconvenient abandon. The poor girls need better support.

“Yes, honey, I can tell East from West. Gale and Megan weren’t with the Elder, they weren’t in the Prisoner Pen, and I still feel them further this way.”

“Ahem,” Drosera clears his throat, “We’re heading for the Nursery.”

“Right. They must have fallen in the Nursery.”

“I understand that,” Gabby acknowledges, “I’m simply noting we’re moving further away from our goal—”

“Food - checkmark,” I interrupt her. “We got Fruit Nymphs. Mandragora nectar…”

“Mandragoras are raised in the Nursery,” Brenda helpfully supplies.

“About to be checked off. New marks for me,” I say as I flex my second pair of arms, “Doublechecked. Those were our goals, honey.”

“Yes, they were, before new information became available,” Gabby says, holding aloft a finger to silence my protest, “However, I recognize retrieving your harem mates takes priority. I simply felt I may better aid you in that endeavor with a new tool at my disposal. Nothing more.”

I nod, satisfied, and throw her a concession, “I’m happy to talk about where we’re at once our group is reunited. Nothing wrong with retracing our steps from a stronger position.”

She hums agreement, but I can tell this argument is going to rear its head again unless everything in the Nursery goes perfectly.

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