The Displacement of the Duodecaplets
Author’s Note: Episodes 2 and 3 of Pairs of Pumpkins continue the story but contain no sexual acts being performed, only the sexual depiction of characters who are all 18+. Episode 4 through 8 (the most recent as of September 2021) the sex returns in spades!
The Sorceress, Marmalade lifted the brass knocker and slammed it into the towering, double doors once. Twice. Thrice. She was a busy feline and while time was always on her side, there was no good excuse for someone as important as her to have to wait for anyone. A huff filled her cheeks before she glanced over her shoulder at the two blank-faced, brutish bodyguards towering behind her. She paced a few steps, impatiently.
A black cloak hung off her petite and lean body, a figure shaped both by a life of walking but also neglecting her diet when lost in her studies. Her orange, striped fur and matching, short-cropped head hair didn’t have a trace of grey and her posture was erect with youthful curiosity. A sharp, raspy voice with a long-voweled accent was young like her appearance but mannerisms betrayed experience and wisdom beyond her perceivable years.
Marmalade grabbed for the ornate knocker again and this time, slammed it into the door. When silence followed, she growled and turned to the towering, monoliths of maleness that accompanied her.
“This is unbelievable.”
They said nothing in response. Both were silent, blank-faced and glassy-eyed, staring at the door as that’s what happened to be in front of them. Each around seven feet tall and nearly that wide. The wolverine carried a pair of axes slung over his shoulders and the bull, a two-handed sword, broad enough that she could lay down upon the blade. Neither could oblige her need for entertainment and she turned her attention back to the building itself.
It was somewhere between a fanciful manor and a subtle fortress, built with both security and aesthetics in mind and it’s appearance suggested it was quite old, likely older than Zarron. The design was clever but the most secure feature, was how tucked away it was from the rest of the world. It was truly remote.
There was movement behind the fortified, double doors, the faint but purposeful stomping of boots. A security slit in the door slid open, revealing bright green, canine eyes framed by white and red fur. They scanned about, annoyed before snapping to her. “What the hell, lady?!”
“What took you so long?”
“We don’t get regular visitors. Nobody sits back here all day, waiting for someone to knock! There’s no receptionist!” His barking voice was youthful and irritated, with the boldness that comes from hiding behind a fortified door. “In fact, we’re not expecting any guests for another month. Go away.”
Another month?! What kind of sloppy book-keeping had this baby-peddling wizard been doing, to not have expected her visit? She bristled, nostrils flaring.
“Clearly there is some mistake. I placed a VERY special order many years ago and I am here to take my delivery.”
“‘I’ll check the records,” the boy said after a loud sigh. “Name?”
“Madam Marmalade the Enchanter,” she stood back enough to be seen, as if the young man behind the door might recognize her. Her accent hinted of a distant, unplacable origin.
Some time followed, along with the song of flipping thick pages of a book.
“I see a ‘Madam Marmalade the Conjurer.'”
There was a huff before a nodding. “Yes, that’s me. That was me. I focused on Enchantment for seventy-seven years but Zarron knew me in my youth so he…”
“You’re a month early, Miss Marmalade.”
“Madam.” The feline replied and shook her head. “That can’t be. Zarron told me to come back at the start of Yanmoon in the 256th year. The sun is shining and the faffelblossoms are in full bloom. It looks like spring to me!”
“Madam Marmalade, it’s been a warm winter but faffelblossoms always bloom after a thaw. It’s five days shy of Ymiramoon. You have another month until spring actually starts. Come back then.”
The feline drew a deep breath and exhaled, steadying herself. “It’s over a week’s walk through a woefully neglected trail back to the nearest village. This Manor is enormous and I know there are guest quarters you can spare. I stayed here before! The Purple Room, upstairs I believe it was.”
“Master is not here at the moment. Only he can invite guests in. I am sorry, Miss Marmalade but you’ll need to come b…”
The feline sorceress had raised her hands below his eyeline, muttering unintelligibly to herself. The gears and chains that held closed the doors began to move on their own, unlatching then lurching open. Through the eyehole, the fox’s eyes grew wide before he scrambled away, shouting out for help.
They opened up enough for her to see inside the opulent, tapestry draped foyer of the manor and the fleeing, adolescent fox in a tunic and wool pants. She stepped over the threshold and the doors came to a rest half open and the two bodyguards fell into a single line behind her to be able to clear them.
The room was huge and rectangular, twice as broad as it was, deep. There was a split, grand staircase at the far end, leading up to a stone catwalk that surrounded the room on three sides, ending in smaller, more utilitarian staircases on either side of the room. In the gap between the stairs was a cavernous hallway plunging deeper into the Manor.
Massive, ancient tapestries hung from the walls, difficult to discern a consistent theme but they served to dull what would otherwise be a cavernous echo. In the center of it was a blood red circle of glass in the floor and underneath it, a large, black sigil fifteen feet in diameter. She’d remembered seeing it on her last visit and that it had something to do with location-based magic and intersection of ley lines.
“Intruder! Intruder!” It was the young fox. “The wards aren’t going off! Stone! Help me!” He stopped at the center of the room where a sitting area was set up, comically out of scale with the cavernous space: two couches, some tables and chairs in an arrangement suited for a room many times smaller than this one. From one of the seats, another presence rose, slow and powerful.
Standing nearly nine feet tall, the chiseled brute looked to be another sort of fox, which should impossible at his scale. His coat was a faded, light grey from head to toe with black freckles splattered over the thick fur of his chest. Pinkish red eyes were dull and difficult to find pupils in and it wasn’t immediately obvious where his focus was. Only his head and hands poked out from his loose, brown robe but it could not hide his broad shoulders, muscled torso and the prominent bulge swinging freely in the front. He started towards her.
“Oh my, he’s an interesting one!” She covered her heart and stopped in place, the outside air ruffling her cloak. “Is he mine?”
“No, he’s not!” the young fox incredulously barked. “No guests. Master’s orders. Stone: remove them!”
Marmalade rolled her eyes. The bull and wolverine stepped up and in to flank her, reaching for weapons but she snapped an arm up. “That won’t be necessary, boys. Like I said, Zarron knows me. Tell him to stand down.” The boy was too far away to use a Charm spell. The monstrous albino lurched forward on command, as expressionless as her own guards and the feline sighed. As he closed enough distance, she stared him right into his pink eyes. “Stop.”
He didn’t. The attempted spell had no effect on the fox-brute and her jaw clenched.
“STOP,” she repeated. Nothing.
“SLEEP!” she tried, to no reaction.
“Fuck.” That should have worked. “No weapons. Don’t hurt him. Just restrain him. And don’t step on that red circle.” she ordered to her bodyguards before slipping gracefully back behind them.
They nodded in unison, shifting to wider stances and stepping shoulder to shoulder, forming a wall between the giant fox and their feline ward. As the brute fox drew near, another commotion echoed into the room, swelling from the balcony: double time marching.
Boots on stone and metal armor rattled from above. From a single hallway at the top of the grand staircase, two rows of canine soldiers poured out, wolflike in stature but lean, like they might be part coyote. Their ears stood taller and sharper and their faces sleeker than wolves, cheeks and muzzle marked with black, peppered patterns. Their aggressive, raised tails were long and full, like foxes.
Sheathed swords rattled in scabbards, swinging at their hips and in their hands, they carried sizable crossbows. They spread uniformly to positions on the balcony before lifting their weapons to train on the three intruders.
“Stone! Stand down!” the teen fox barked and the brute obliged, skidding to a stop barely ten paces from a clash with the feline’s escorts.
Marmalade regretted for a second time today, not learning to teleport. Her mind raced as the situation had so rapidly escalated and her magic failed to affect the curiously brutish fox. There were few options to deal with such a group that wouldn’t end lives, cause massive property damage and otherwise sour her relationship with another, potent and dangerous wizard.
“This is all a misunderstanding and there is no need for violence. I am a repeat customer of your Master. One of your best! I assure you that Zarron will be quite upset if you riddle us with arrows before he’s had the chance to take any more of my money.”
“She just barged in!” the young fox yelled to the soldiers above. “She used magic to bypass the locks and the wards.”
“And yet, here I am inside without having caused any damage at all. I only want to stay until Zarron returns because there is nowhere else for miles!”
“If the Master has not arranged it in advance, you need to leave,” one of the young soldiers on the balcony called down.
Were these more of his experiments, all grown up? How many of them had he kept for himself? Their impressive stature and coats suggested they may be crossbred with heartier canine breeds. Was that naturally possible with foxes or did Zarron use magic to create them?
“If you insist on staying then you will be our prisoners until the Master returns.”
As if on command, he did.
CRACK!
A pulse surged through the room like a lightning strike, leaving fur standing on end. and the smell of ozone overwhelmed the room. A column of bluish smoke appeared, surrounding the seal in the center of the room and then vanished almost as quickly.
It cleared to reveal a raccoon sorcerer in faded, pink robes, greyed and aged. He was frantic, standing over the collapsed bodies of two impossibly voluptuous vixens, one draped over the other, each of them taking up an unusual amount of space. Tense and hunched down, he had a hand on them both, per the standards of teleportation travel.
Marmalade chuckled with relief, oblivious to the state of the two girls with him. She shoved through her bodyguards to stand in front of them again. “Zarron! Oh thank the Gods…”
The raccoon whipped around to face her and confusion pushed through his frantic demeanor. “Miss Marmalade?! What are you doing here?!” he interrupted before looking around at the scene, seeing the dozen archers lining the balcony and the massive, fox-brute dangerously close to her Escorts. The vixen on top of the stack, propped up by tremendous bulk under her purple robe, rolled off unsteadily to flop on her side at the raccoon’s feet. Laying there, she was an oddly shaped lump, either tremendously overweight or otherwise encumbered.
“What happened?! Are they alright?!” The young, red fox raced toward the three of them in hysterics.
“They’re fine. I don’t have time for this! I have to go back. Duayne! Stone! Move the girls. Now!” With that, he stood upright and gave a sharp nod before disappearing into another, much lesser and dramatic cloud of smoke.
“Stay there!” the red fox warned the feline sorceress then rushed to the giant seal on the floor. The albino-brute also turned away from the intruders and lumbered over with no obvious urgency. He lifted the black-haired vixen in the red dress first, presenting her outrageous curves for a moment before he cradled her semi-gently. “Be careful, Stone!”
Stone glanced back, confused before carrying her over to a couch. Duayne diverted to follow him, inspecting her for injuries.
“Get Anastasia off the seal! Now!” One of the soldiers above shouted down at him.
He nodded and he hurried over to the more oddly-shaped, unconscious sister, looking her over while his fingers wiggled apprehensively.
“MOVE HER!”
Duayne jumped at the order then he scooped his hands under her spine with some strain before hooking his arms under hers and squatting to lift. That twisted her to face the ceiling, swinging gigantic soft flesh that settled into the shape of breasts to roll on top of her like a tide of molasses under her silk robe.
The first of the two foxes was built as Marmalade would expect of Zarron’s adopted daughters, based on the cursed traits of her foul bloodline but the second was a whole, new level of abomination. She gasped at the sight.
The fox was far beyond the exaggerated voluptuousness of her sister, with a form absolutely dominated by the size of her chest. They dwarfed her upper body in all dimensions, half-filling her lap while jutting out in competition with the reach of her arms. Those weren’t breasts so much as elephantine deformities and it was questionable if she could stand or move on her own.
“Disgusting,” she muttered with a shake of her head.
Grunting with effort, Duane started to drag her but Stone returned and he shoveled her up effortlessly. “Hurry!”
The ogre of a fox hesitated with confused before stepping out of the seal and toward the couch.
CRACK!
Another, ozone-rich crackle filled the room. Duayne scrambled back from the edge of the circle as the raccoon wizard appeared again in the center with another passenger. This time he hunched over an unconscious equine of unusual size. The massive brute of a horse was armed and armored as a seasoned warrior would be but all his weapons remained stowed and accounted for. He’d been knocked out before he had a chance to fight.
“Stone: move him off the seal! Duayne, make sure he’s alive. I’m going back for Joseph and his mother.” After straightening his posture, Zarron nodded sharply and a puff of a purple cloud followed his disappearance. The effects of teleportation seemed to be more dramatic on the receiving end.
“What is going on over there?” Marmalade mused to herself with a chuckle. “A slumber party?”
Stone set the massive-breasted vixen down on the second of the foyer couches then turned and shambled back. He squatted to lift the horse from under his arms then stood and dragged him back with ease, despite them being the same size and build. After a few steps, well clear of the seal, the brute fox let him go indelicately, letting him slump down on the floor.
Duayne hurried to his feet and rushed to the aid of Zarron’s equine heavy, checking his breath and pulse. “He’s alive!” he excitedly declared but the rest of the room was too tense or unconscious to be interested. The twelve, armed men above remained aimed and focused despite the chaos. The young fox’s excited smile melted and he set about inspecting him for injury.
It was the enormous-bosomed vixen that stirred first, awkwardly propping herself up, fighting against the weight and bulk of her chest. Silvery-white legs with charcoal socks ended in sandals, her fur uncommonly long and thick, even for an arctic fox, making her bulkier still with fluff.
Seeing her stir, Duayne rushed from the stallion to her side, taking her by the shoulders but she spoke first. “We met our Mother. Then Zarron knocked us out before he talked to her. ” There was a collective gasp among the twelve soldiers and the red fox. “She has Joseph. They…” she paused and collected her words with uncertainty. Before she could finish, the black haired vixen burst out, awake and furious.
“She had Joseph, alright. She had Joseph INSIDE her! Seduced and corrupted, our sick mother was fucking her own son!” Another gasp echoed through the room at the declaration, this time including the feline sorceress but she was the only one who laughed.
“Evangeline!” Duayne darted into her arms, hugging her around her waist, his face mashing deeply into her breast before the black-haired vixen sat up and continued. “Our poor, innocent brother! Yet another horrible act for a horrible woman. I hope Zarron turns her inside out.”
“Being horrible is the legacy of your lineage, girls. That’s as much a part of your blood as your ridiculous chests are,” Marmalade nearly sang with smugness and both vixens turned to her. Only Evangeline was scowling. “It’s true. You’re descendants from a long line of tyrants and hypocrites.”
“You know our mother?” Evangeline scowled and she rose from her seat, presenting herself with tall, alert ears like blades, two-tone fur of pure white capped with black at her extremities. Her figure was bountiful yet waspish, her underlying build lean but for her wide hips.
“I know your grandmother,” Marmalade explained, stepping forward. “She’s a xenophobic, iron-fisted hypocrite. A zealot who crushes joy, love and color in the name of racial purity. She gets it from hundreds of years of the same. So I’m not at all surprised to hear about your mother and her own son. In fact, I have a theory that your bloodline is so afraid of outsiders that the whole lot of you were inbred to be the way you are,” she said and motioned with her eyes to the chests of the two vixens. “…and you’ve been inbred ever since.”
Duayne was glaring at her now too, his lip curled in a half-snarl as he hung from his sister’s waist. The feline drank it up.
“Hopefully Zarron’s care and education has helped you to not be the monsters that you were born to be. It worked for my boys.”
Evangeline simmered with flaring nostrils. A glare back at her sister found her calm, despite the offenses to their entire lineage. “You’ve got nothing, Anastasia? No spells to shut this witch up?”
The top-heavy sister shrugged and Evangeline looked up to the semi-circle of her crossbow-armed, half-brothers, ready to protect her. With a slow menace, she planted fists on her hips before her full attention turned back to the cat. “So, who the fuck are you?”
“Miss Marmalade, the Intruder who the Duodecaplets were about to make a pincushion of.” Duayne answered for her.
“Madam Marmalade.”
Eva eyed the balcony again before giving a calm shrug. “That seems reasonable. What are you waiting for?”
“You said you already have some of our brothers and sisters?” Anastasia spoke up, her voice soft and curious among the immediate threat of violence that surrounded them. She planted her hands deliberately on the edge of the couch before easing herself carefully to her feet. Standing upright over time revealed how top heavy she was and the degree to which is impaired her. The feline chuckled at her awkwardness.
“Only boys. Five of them. I knew how you girls would turn out and I needed able bodies to protect me. Not some jiggling, milk jugs that can’t even stand or move their arms properly.”
Evangeline snarled but Anastasia remained calm and quiet when she flatly continued.
“That’s a lot of money, even with a discount.” Her hands folded in front of her lap, while the width of her bosom hid half of her arms behind them, down to the mid-forearm.
“It’s a lot more to pay three nannies to raise them all but Zarron and I have history. And while he used his magic for weird experiments to sell, I skipped the middle step and went straight into spellcasting services. Magic can be extremely profitable, if you’ve got the right buyers. And the right spells.”
Ana’s head tilted aside, digesting the thought for a long moment before continuing. “Zarron doesn’t experiment for the money,” she said before she blinked a new thought into her head. “You’re Miss Marmalade the Conjurer.”
“Enchanter,” the feline inserted.
“I’ve seen the ledgers. You own more of our brothers than almost anyone: five hybrids and one… pureblood. I’ve seen the billing formula too. He charges a minimum of three times more for hybrids and purebloods. Zarron charged you less than the base price for them all and the pureblood was free. Nobody else ever got a free one.”
“You remember all that? Look at the brains on those tits!” the feline chuckled to herself, looking up to the bull for affirmation but his reaction was predictably absent. “Yes, actually all that is correct. I have them all except the… what did you call it? Pureblood?” She huffed. “What a pretty sounding word for ‘inbred.'”
“It’s what it says in the ledger,” Ana gave a small shrug to a bigger effect on the front of her robe. “There’s only one pureblood here: Stone.”
Duayne took a few steps away from Evangeline, pushing back his ears with hands, gripping his head. “Nobody said Stone was going anywhere! She can’t take him!” He retreated to stand between them and the brute of a fox who was still over the sleeping equine, staring at the ceiling and oblivious to the room’s exchange.
“You’re here for Stone?!” Eva said in disbelief and gave an aloof shrug. “I wasn’t aware that he’s inbred but that makes perfect sense. I don’t know if you noticed but he’s a drooling moron. So, good luck with that. You get what you pay for, I guess.”
Marmalade cracked a smile and turned her palms out toward the black-haired vixen. “I don’t need him for interesting conversations. Besides, he’s nice to look at. But seems he’s a bit dense…”
CRACK!
Another jolt surged through the room and a new pillar of smoke pushed up from the seal. This time, Zarron was in the air, falling backward. He landed hard on the stone floor, unconscious.
The conversation froze and all eyes moved to him, crumpled unglamorously, his tongue half hanging out of his drool-oozing muzzle. His pink cloak heaved with deep and obvious breath, made moreso when he began to snore.
Evangeline was the first to move, balling her fists and growling. “Wake up! You’re going to let my whore mother get the best of you?!” She crumpled at his side, shaking him by the shoulders but he was heavy and limp. “Three times and you couldn’t stop her?! What kind of wizard are you?!”
“Not that kind, Bubbles. Life wizards are generally healers, or in this case, a baby-peddling opportunist. It’s a conjurer you want in a fight.” She started toward Zarron and Eva at a casual stroll, her hands presented outward as she looked up to the twelve crossbowmen above her then to Duayne.
“Don’t shoot her. Yet,” the young fox spat.
The feline rolled her eyes and continued, stopping behind Evangeline. “Do me a favor dear: pull that thing out of his chest.”
Eva glared back then looked him over and quickly found a small dart standing out from Zarron’s robe,. She plucked it out and held it up: a feather-fletched needle, covered in an oily fluid. “She POISONED him!? The devious witch.”
“She only knocked him out,” Marmalade said, stepping to the other side of Zarron and squatting down and casually snapping over his face. Nothing happened beyond the feline’s brow crumpling with frustration. She gestured elaborately with both hands before slapping them loudly together.
“WAKE!” she commanded and Zarron, obliged, sitting upright in a panic. Her eyes moved the dart, still in Eva’s hand. “That’s some strong, knockout juice.”
“Get off the seal! I’m going back in!” Zarron grabbed Eva’s shoulder then Marmalade’s knee to pull himself to his feet.
The eldest daughter scrambled back on all fours until she was clear of the circle. “Bring her back in chains! Or in pieces!” She doubled forward and snarled encouragement.
Marmalade for her part, was much more casual in vacating the seal but she did and Zarron closed his eyes and nodded once more.
Again.
Nothing.
“Dammit!” His fists clenched and his teeth gritted harder under a rising snarl and he nodded again, to no effect. He walked several small circles before he tried and failed again.
“GRRRRRRRRNNNGGGHHH!” He nodded again violently with no results but with the next nod, he slumped, deflated and defeated. “The seals are all broken. There isn’t safe way to teleport back to the Pale Lands now. And she’s got Joseph.”
“She broke all the teleport seals?” Ana stepped in closer. “How did she find them all?”
“A Runaway Princess just got the best of you?” Marmalade crossed her arms and shifted her weight.
“Almost twenty years passed since she ran away, Marmalade. I know people like us can easily lose perspective on time once age doesn’t matter anymore but she’s had half a lifetime to learn new skills. It turns out she really did take up adventuring and learned how to fight. And she was completely resistant to my magic!” He pushed off the ground and wobbled as he rose to his feet, one hand holding his back.
“Interesting. I just had the same thing happen to me with your inbred, ogre-fox.”
Zarron paused and squinted, his ears moving closer together atop his head. “You tried to use magic on Stone?” He said before his eyes lit up with realization. “Ahhh, you tried a Charm. No, that won’t work. Stone is too stupid for any mental spells to affect him. No, Princess Vasiljev must have acquired some kind of magical resistance.”
He paused for a moment and a scowl wiped over his face. “Don’t use spells on my things.”
“Well, that’s why I’m here Zarron: I believe that per our agreement, he is my thing,” she straightened herself out in a confident poise, her tail swishing behind her. “But if he’s resistant to mental magic then we might have a problem.”
The raccoon simmered and glared under a heavy, grey-speckled brow. “If it wasn’t obvious, this isn’t really a good time.”
“Not my concern.”
“Aren’t you early?”
“By over a month!” Young Duayne stepped forward and barked, only to shrink right back under the feline’s wicked glare.
“You owe me, Zarron. And your location isn’t exactly convenient so unless you want me and my boys as houseguests for a month, I suggest we resolve this now. Regardless of who in this freak family of foxes are fucking each other.”
Zarron slouched and sighed. “Look Marmalade: the whole ‘pureblood’ thing?”
“Inbred,” Marmalade corrected.
“Wait, there are other inbred brothers and sisters?” Evangeline gasped. Anastasia who gave a small nod, either nonplussed or already aware.
“Tati and Titian were also… inbred,” Anastasia whispered before Eva recoiled.
“Those little two monsters?”
Zarron’s cold glare silenced them both before he turned to the feline, considering his words. “They were all failures. The first two boys, Tati and Titian, were twins… natural twins. I didn’t force a split.
“They were the most abominable, little monsters I’ve ever seen and at this point, I’ve seen a lot of children. I sold them off to a military academy when they were five, hoping they’d learn some discipline. I received a complaint from them a few years back that the boys they bought turned out to be… not quite boys. Last I heard they ran away. It was a complete mess.
“The next three, I sold off earlier. Two of them since disappeared as murder suspects and the last one was returned after a few years because he was too damn stupid to be of much good. He’s strong but no one wanted to buy a dim-witted, six year old. The last one I tried making was a feeble runt who will probably never walk and I sold him off for next to nothing. I believed your theory that this bloodline benefited from inbreeding in the past but all I got was freaks, psychos, runts and morons.”
“That grand experiment was a bust. The Vasiljev children, it turns out, are affected negatively by inbreeding just like anyone else. Maybe even moreso.”
Anastasia glanced at Stone then Marmalade, studying her reaction while she bit her lower lip, holding back.
The feline sorceress took a moment to consider the explanation. “Great. So now the child that I tracked down and seduced a damn PRINCE for, is returned merchandise and a fucking idiot that I can’t even Charm? That wasn’t the plan, Zarron. They were supposed to be unique. Bubbles here said you charge more for the inbreds.”
Zarron grumbled. “We don’t talk about pricing with the customers, Anastasia. You know that.” With his attention back to Marmalade, he continued. “I got triple for three of them but I had to give two, normal sons up, when they returned Stone. The twins and the runt I basically gave away. Nobody has enough money to buy a designer child but only enough to buy a defective one.”
Marmalade considered the situation with her tail swishing faster, irritated. “So you owe me the price of three. Three sons.” Zarron’s whole face squished into a scowl. “It isn’t my fault that they turned out terrible and that was the going rate when we made our deal: I bring you the sperm of a Vasiljev man. You make your little inbred experiments and I get one, triple-price child for free.”
“You stole sperm from someone so you could breed it with his sister?!” Eva swung her hands out before her with a jostle of her chest, glaring between them. “What the fuck is wrong with you two?”
“The whole idea that there was any value in the inbreds was your idea!” Zarron snapped at the feline sorceress.
“We made a hypothesis and it wasn’t correct but that doesn’t change what the deal was: I did a job worth the base price, times three. You owe me that, Zarron. Not like you don’t have enough of them,” she gestured to the dozen canines on the balcony, still ready to fire. “Frankly, having five of these little brats in my house made me rethink immortality. How many hundreds did you made? Are you at a thousand yet?”
Zarron grimaced and fumed for a long moment. “Fine. Three kids.”
“Three sons. You know I don’t want daughters. Not like them,” Marmalade said and glared sideways to a disbelieving Eva and a blank-faced Ana.
Eva spun to look at her brothers on the balcony above. “She’s insulting us and she’s fleecing Zarron. Will someone please just pull the trigger?!”
“Stop it, Eva.” The raccoon rolled his eyes. “Fine. Three sons.”
“Three MATURE sons.” Marmalade insisted. “I agreed to wait all these years because that’s when the spell will work. I can’t wait again and I will never have another crying baby in my house.”
“We have to start young if we want them to imprint with you. You want to raise them your way, you have to actually raise them!”
“I came here to pick up a grown boy. So you give me three, mature sons or something else of equal value. I can handle the imprinting. You know that.”
Zarron clenched his fists but stopped himself short of pouting with a long exhale before looking up to the balcony and the twelve canine soldiers on it. Their crossbows remained at ready but their postures had softened and confused glances now exchanged among them. At their elevation and distance, they were too far away to be following the conversation. “Fine. I’m losing my ass to keep all these mouths fed anyway.”
“And one Teleport scroll. To get us home.” Marmalade blurted and Zarron glared.
“Fine. But nothing else!” Angry eyes waited for her to acknowledge. She did, closing her eyes with a genial smile. He grumbled and looked up to the armed teens that surrounded them.
“DUODECAPLETS: STAND DOWN.”
Marmalade watched with curiosity as the raccoon commanded and they obeyed. They all tucked the crossbows up and in, so that a misfire would now only hit the ceiling. All twelve of them clapped their boots together and stood upright. Zarron lifted his finger and pointed between the third and fourth among them before he gestured splitting them. “You three: come down here. The rest of you are dismissed.”
The teen soldiers exchanged concerned looks but before hesitation would have become disobedience, they split as directed and nine of them turned back to the corridor from where they had emerged, their pace slow and slumped.
The unease of the remaining three was more obvious before they turned to the closest stairway, a long, grand sweep downward from the furthest extent of one side of the balcony.
“You let this woman come into your home, insult you and us and now you’re going to give her three of our brothers?”
“You have hundreds of brothers and sisters, Eva,” Zarron glared back at the eldest daughter. “Every one of them past you two have been merchandise. What do you suddenly care about three?”
“Suddenly?” She buckled. “I’ve always cared about my family. The Duodecaplets were raised with us.”
“They didn’t come up with you two, Evangeline. Anastasia, I raised as a daughter and a student. You I raised…” he paused and reconsidered his words. “This lot was raised by teachers and instructors to be obedient soldiers and you happened to have seen them around over the years. They don’t live with us, speak with us or dine with us.”
“They’ve been here in our home since they were infants,” Eva held back her snarl, ears flat back against her head.
“In a separate wing. They aren’t a part of this household.”
“They are!” she protested, her thick tail swinging with agitation.
Zarron turned his body to square off with her then jabbed a finger to the bottom of the stairwell where the first of the three reached the ground floor. “What’s his name?”
“You didn’t give him one.”
Zarron’s tone became firm and challenging. “I did. You know his name.”
Eva’s head was tilted forward, glaring under her eyelids as she growled: “Duodecaplet.”
“And him?” The raccoon pointed to the next in line as they drew closer.
“Duodecaplet.”
“Him?”
“You gave them all one name,” Eva was barely opening her mouth to talk now, her tail lifted behind her along with the fur of the back of her neck. “You treat twelve of them as one and any less than that as a fraction.”
“No, I treat them as twelve. Twelve who are all the same. Duanye got a name. Even Stone got a name. But these boys weren’t supposed to survive being born,” Zarron’s attention was fully on Evangeline as he spoke.
Anastasia was several steps over Evangeline’s shoulder now, for her angry advances while Duayne had shifted nearly into her shadow, fearful eyes looking to Stone. The brutish canine was unconcerned with the conversation or anything else. He stood next to the sleeping stallion after his last command had been executed, like a machine of flesh that was currently switched off.
“Evangeline, you know the story: I was just trying to see how many times I could split an egg. It became less reliable after five or six so when I tried twelve, I didn’t expect them to survive, let alone be so healthy.”
The three canine soldiers arrived and lined up before Zarron before standing at attention, with no sign of fondness or even acknowledgement of their two elder sisters. Evangeline clenched her eyes shut, lowering her head further.
Marmalade started her inspection, pacing around them, more interested in her merchandise than the conversation. Up close now, it was easy to see their patterns and builds were as lupine as they were vulpine and the twelve were so strong and formidable for the influence of a wolf as a father.
“The Duocaplets are only remarkable because they survived infancy. Now they are just more mouths to feed. Nine of them are more than enough to protect us with all the magic we’ve got around here. After my current line of experiments are complete, we won’t have to wait years to grow a new one.
“You have no connection to them, Evangeline. They were bodyguards. Now they’re merchandise. Let it go.”
Marmalade’s eyes followed their exchange but her head only moved at the last words, as her curiosity piqued. She stepped forward, glancing over to see the eldest vixen fuming but not looking long enough to maintain her ire. Instead, she turned her attention back to her new acquisitions, giving a poke of them here and squeeze there, assessing their fitness and asserting her dominance. “You split an egg twelve ways to make them?”
“It was the last time I tried so many. I think I just got lucky. Six is the limit these days.”
She squeezed one of their bare biceps. “They certainly seem healthy to me.”
At so close an inspection, it was clear they were entirely identical, from their six-foot four height and strong, athletic builds to matching, grey and white fur patterns. Though they were disciplined and rigid, all could see they were concealing some nervousness. Marmalade turned back to Stone, appraisingly then gave a small shrug. Rolling off her booted heel, she leisurely strolled back around the three of them to rejoin the old raccoon. “Yes, they’ll do. I will need a private place to conduct the ritual.”
“What ritual?!” Evangeline took a step forward, and this time, Anastasia followed with some interest. The three young men kept their heads straight and attentive while their darting eyes betrayed a spike in nervous curiosity.
Zarron stifled a smile. “You wouldn’t be interested, Anastasia. It’s sex magic.”
She cleared her throat and dipped her muzzle but didn’t reply otherwise. The nervousness of the three young men changed tangibly to a different kind of excitement but all the while, they kept their poise.
Marmalade canted her head aside and squinted, ears pushing back and stared squarely at the bustier daughter. “Why wouldn’t this cow like sex magic? She can’t be good for much else besides breeding.”
Eva threw her hands up and turned to Zarron expectantly. He answered for her, looking right past the eldest vixen. “Anastasia here is my apprentice as a sorcerer and she’s quite good at it. And I tried introducing her to sex magic because… I mean, look at her,” he pointed while she remained motionless in her upright posture, her robe hanging from the overabundance of her chest, masking all her other womanly curves under the umbrella it formed.
“I see that part,” Marmalade eyed her with disdain. “I just don’t see how this empty-eyed bimbo can move her arms with enough range to ever throw any spell with a somatic component.”
“True, there’s a lot of magic she’ll just never be able to do with those giant breasts in the way,” Zarron was all too casual in conceding her disability. It was one Anastasia knew that he’d quite intentionally given her and her jaw tightened just enough that might have been noticed, were anyone minding her face just then. “But she can still do a lot. Just not sex magic!” he said with a laugh. “As soon as she started flipping through those the spellbooks and seeing the illustrations, she had a bit of a meltdown and threw up all over my study. A priceless, erotic spellbook was ruined. I guess nobody really needs a permanent erection but some of the fertility spells could have been useful.”
“I was younger then,” Ana spoke matter-of-factly through her tight jaw but Zarron only laughed.
“Not that much younger, Ana. I don’t know how with your heritage, you could be so afraid of sex. You certainly don’t get it from your mother.”
“The pictures. It looked like they were hurt,” she defended softly.
Ana tried to relax her lips, hiding her clenched jaw though her fast blinking betrayed her restraint. Eva gave a huff of a laugh at the story. “Lucky not all your girls are prudes. Zarron’s got big plans to pop my cherry on my next birthday.”
Marmalade turned her head slowly to Zarron, like a cog struggling without adequate grease, her brow craning as high as the muscles of her forehead would allow. The elder raccoon took an unconscious step back at the feline’s ire, shrinking in his posture. “A man needs a wife. A woman needs a husband. What’s more perfect than one he raised and trained himself?”
The feline held her tongue for a long moment with a gaze of daggers until she finally spoke: “You grow more disgusting in your age, Zarron.”
“I’m not forcing her to marry me. I could have a whole harem but I choose to take a wife.”
Marmalade’s attention whipped to the eldest daughter. “And you’re okay with this?! You?! The bitchy one?!”
“A girl is supposed to be married,” Eva’s defiance and anger finally buckled at the admission. She shrugged and gestured to the unconscious horse at Stone’s feet. “Every other boy in this house but him is my brother.”
“I’m not married,” Marmalade said with the syrup of a luxurious boast.
“That’s not surprising.” Eva’s eyes reignited at the opportunity.
The feline paused then softened her posture, eyes darting down Eva’s body. “But I’m not deformed either. You should take any man who will have you. Doubly true for her.” Her eyes flicked aggressively over Anastasia but Evangeline was the one who erupted, charging the feline and balling up her fist.
“Magic your way out of this, you bitch,” Eva snarled and lunged. She brought back her arm to swing with fire of rage in her eye but Marmalade hadn’t been oblivious to the fire she stoked. The feline threw out her hand and barked:
“STOP!”
Evangeline did, instantly and right where she stood, her entire body frozen but for her eyes and mouth. A furious glare turned to the elder raccoon and she struggled to speak for a moment. “Are you going to do something about this witch? Or does every woman best you?”
“Calm down, Eva. Marmalade is an old friend and one of my best customers.”
Anastasia craned her head just a degree or two, already having established from what she’d read, financially speaking, she was one of the worst. Zarron didn’t notice as he turned his attention to the feline. “Marmalade: stop insulting them.”
“As you wish, Zarron. Be sure to invite me to the wedding.”
“I sent you an invitation last year. You never replied.”
“When? Later this year?”
“Two months from now.”
“I have plans,” Marmalade shook her head then appraised the frozen vixen once again. “But have fun with your titsy, teenage sex toy and her bad attitude.”
“Marmalade,” the raccoon spoke low and long, only to be interrupted.
The feline’s patience was almost visible as it fizzled out and she turned on her heel to face Zarron. “Look: my intention in coming here was not to crash your affairs and I don’t care about your mama drama with Princess Pumpkin-tits nor your bitchy Bride-to-be. I thought you’d be neck deep in the boring business of egg-insemination or baby distribution. I’m here to collect. I need a ritual space and privacy. Give me that and we’ll be on our way in the morning.”
Zarron gave a small, begrudging nod. “Of course. Right this way, Marmalade. You three: come. Leave your weapons on the floor.”
They nodded in unison, obliging his order to set down their crossbows, swords and daggers then following behind them. “The rest of you… I don’t know. Clean up your rooms, girls. We’re staying here now. Duayne, have Stone bring Darren to his room to sleep it off. Then start on dinner.”
Marmalade’s self-amused smirk crept back across her face. “Zarron: your horse is named… Darren? Why not Darr-ON?”
“I didn’t name him, Marmalade. I just hired him.”
The grumbling raccoon led the sorceress, her bodyguards and the three canines out of the main foyer of the Manor and down the long hallway that split the grand staircase. At the end of it, they reached a tall set of double doors that opened on their own with a twist of Zarron’s half-raised hand, revealing a stone and tile room with another set of doors beyond it.
Marmalade grinned and looked back to the three young men that followed behind her. “I hope you boys are ready for this.” It was a statement, not a conversation started and she turned her focus to the room. With a snap in her elbows, she threw one hand to the left of the doorway and another to the right. Without a word between them, her bodyguards obliged and split off to take their assigned positions. They turned in unison to stand guard as Zarron crossed the threshold, followed by Marmalade then the three young soldiers in loose but defendable formation.
Half-wolf eyes drank in the space like it was new to them. The whole, rectangular room was tiled on the floor and up the walls, with intricate, hand-laid patterns that pulled attention to the steaming tub of water laid in the middle, with room for five or six at once.
The boys exchanged restrained but nervous glances, jaws clenched to avoid questions. Zarron stepped past the tub and turned to face them while Marmalade stopped at his side, across the water from them.
“Alright you three, here’s how this is going to work: you’re leaving with her. She’s your Master now. You’ll do as she says and serve her like you served me. Unless she tells you to hurt me,” he added quickly. Marmalade rolled her eyes and shook her head.
One of the three snappily raised a hand. “Permission to speak, Master?” The old raccoon made him wait a moment before giving a nod. “We are Duodecaplets. We are twelve. That was how we’ve lived and how we’ve trained. Now we’re to be separated from our brothers… permanently?”
Zarron started to speak but Marmalade reached out across to silence him with a single finger. “I would never break up a family. I promise you will see your brothers again and it won’t be long at all. Think of it as a temporary reassignment.”
They seemed satisfied with the answer and their tension mostly waned. She smiled pleasantly and continued. “But first things first: the ritual. A formality really. The important part is that I need you three all cleaned up because like Zarron said: there will be sex. With me. So undress yourselves and bath! First one in the water is the first into bed.” She grinned and winked as she finished and the three looked to each other with disbelieving eyes before they burst into action, scrambling to strip away their away armor and clothes. Zarron leaned in, his eyes narrowing.
“You lie with such ease.”
She spoke through her toothy smile. “You sell children, Zarron. Don’t get sanctimonious with me.”
He watched the eager boys, oblivious to their own fates. “I could sell you the other nine. Keep them together?”
“I don’t want them. I have too many now.”
“I could give you four other boys if you can wait a year.”
“I don’t want to wait and I like these three.”
He sucked in a breath before nodding. “It’s painless, at least?”
“Probably not for me!” she laughed, gesturing to the three in various states of undress, one of them already with his pants off, an oversized bulge jostling in the front of his undergarments. “But for them? Completely painless. Their last, clear and free memory will be one hell of an orgasm. And then? Who knows what will go through their heads? Probably nothing at all until they’re told what to do,” she shrugged and turned her attention back to them, speaking to the raccoon discreetly. “Is the altar prepped? I Imagine it’s not?”
Zarron sighed. “I’ll get it ready.” He started toward the next set of double doors just as water splashed dramatically behind him, announcing that the first of the three was in the tub. With a moment of reluctance and a shake of his head, he pulled the doors apart, revealing the elaborate ritual chamber beyond. Marmalade followed him with her eyes, noticing the hesitation and caught the old raccoon muttering to himself as she stepped into the room.
“I’m sorry, you poor bastards.”
TO BE CONTINUED…