Monster Breeder

I’d say we’re hunting Fruit Nymphs, but the truth is that we’re wandering around aimlessly. I don’t have Wolf Nose or a trail to go by. Seriously, that’s the second time today I regretted not having it. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone!

It’s fine, though. We’ll keep coming across Treefolk as long as we continue heading south. We hit the meandering brook (more of a small river around these parts) repeatedly and steer clear each time. The spring must be located nearby, but I’m not looking for sexy freshwater mermaids today, I swear!

Eventually, we come across a clearing in the woods. “I recognize this place,” Brenda says, her eyes full of memories. “There used to be…” She rushes forward to the edge of the underbrush, bringing Jonny inside her along for the ride.

We tromp on after her, earning a, “Shh!” from the Stone Ooze for our troubles. Each of us peers through leaves and branches to get a good look at the meadow.

“Adult Mandragora!” Gabby whisper-shouts. Half a dozen naked, green-skinned men and women are at work in the clearing. “Look, they’re tending the plants! The affinities they develop in this stage of their evolution determine what path they take going forward. It’s fascinating to watch.”

Indeed, each of the Mandragora uses a first-tier version of Plant Growth to stimulate various herbs, flowers, and trees as we watch. One of them coaxes a blueberry bush to bear fruit. Another prods a stinging nettle weed to double its size. I see a willow tree on the far side of the clearing being similarly tended.

“They look so peaceful…” I say, wondering what could twist pleasant young people like them into monsters like the rotten Apple Treefolk.

My eyes are naturally glued to the tits and asses on display more than anything else, though. The Mandragora are full-sized humanoids with their main monstrous features being green skin and leafy hair with little else betraying their inhumanity. A few of them have flowers growing from their skin in various places as if in self-decoration.

My Goblin wife mumbles to herself, “I need their precious nectar to become an Herbalist.”

Oh, yeah. This is actually the main reason we came. That was easier than I thought…

“Wait,” Brenda says as Jonny holds up their arm to block us from advancing into the meadow.

“Well, what is it?” Gabby asks, clearly impatient to get started harvesting the critical fluid.

The Stone Ooze stands her (Jonny’s) ground. “It’s weird for Mandragora to range this far. They don’t usually leave the Nursery until they evolve. I remember; the Fruit Nymphs used to ‘play’ with us here when we came of age. This clearing was their feeding ground. I wonder...”

“But the Mandragora are here now, minding their own business,” I say. “It’s kind of an open and shut case, right?”

 “Ten minutes,” Brenda requests. Gabby harrumphs but settles in for the wait. I watch the sun creep a degree across the sky while counting the minutes. It only takes five.

“Get dem!” A cry rises from across the meadow as a dozen Goblins and Hobs break cover to charge the Mandragoras.

“Shit! Bruke knows about the Herbalist evolution,” Gabby realizes. “These Gobbos are here to finish what I started.” My wife made no secret of her evolution experiments during her time in the Ogre Fen. Quite the opposite, and some of those lessons apparently sank into the thick skulls there.

We don’t want to face an army of Goblin Herbalists in the big battle coming up, that’s for certain. “We have to stop them.”

“Watch,” Brenda cautions to our dismay, but we exercise self-control and listen to her.

We observe as the plant monsters retreat, some of them moving in odd directions. By that I mean not towards the closest cover but some unknown landmark. The Gobbos don’t seem to notice, pursuing the Mandragora regardless of where their prey runs.

The Goblins and Hobs sprint for all they’re worth, catching the Mandragoras one after another. Both male and female Gobbos push their victims down and mount the plant monsters out in the open for all to see. Dick or pussy doesn’t seem to matter to them, with at least one Goblin male rutting a Mandragora boy’s ass.

Size doesn’t seem to matter either. The Goblins are surprisingly strong for their stature and the few Mandragoras who struggle are held down by Hobs. At least the Mandragora boy seems to be enjoying the rear-entry, thrusting back against his captor’s groin in tandem with the Goblin’s frantic movements.

I raise an eyebrow at Brenda. The Stone Ooze, her face manifested on Jonny’s full-body rock armor still weird to look at, darts her glowing green eyes back at the field. “The trap is sprung.”

One Mandragora ducks behind a willow tree and disappears. When the pursuant Goblin tries to follow, the willow unfurls arms that grab and hold him. A mature woman’s silhouette with gigantic breasts emerges from the trunk as she embraces her captive and forces him to pound his pecker in her wooden cunt while he suffocates buried in her bosom.

“Busty Willow Treefolk,” Gabby identifies.

Another Mandragora approaches the brush where a score of wooden tentacles dart from concealment to entangle the Hob at her heels. The Gobbo is quickly dragged from sight.

“Strangler Fig Treefolk.”

A Mandragora girl laughs sadistically as the ground at her feet opens beneath her would-be rapists. They fall with a splash and their screams are soon cut short. The earth heaves to reveal her as a Pitcher Treefolk that buried its lower half beneath the ground. Her vines clutch at any other Gobbos foolish enough to be in range.

I guess the top and bottom halves can separate and rejoin? I swear I saw her running to the spot where her body was buried.

"Ahn!" the rutting Goblin yells as he creampies his 'victim's' ass, oblivious to the danger while his mind is clouded with lust-haze. 

Then the Mandragora boy enjoying being taken from behind transforms before our eyes. Red stalks tipped with glistening dew spring from his shoulders and hair. A white flower bud on a slender green stem grows from the top of his head. Pad-like tendril-leaves sprout from his back, each covered in those red stalks.

Where the dew tips of the red stalks touch Goblin skin, smoke rises along with screams. The Gobbo attempts to flee but finds the false-Mandragora’s skin covered in a sticky glue-like sap. Escape is impossible as the pad-like tendrils grow large enough to engulf the Goblin entirely before curling into a ball.

“Sundew Trap, precursor to the infamous Venus Trap.”

The peaceful meadow has become a killing field.

With the danger revealed, I don’t hesitate any longer. “Air Blade!” I fling a flying scythe at the Pitcher Treefolk; I’ve come to loathe them on sight and won’t suffer one to live. My attack cuts a gaping wound in the pitcher’s side, causing half-digested skeletons to pour forth. Another Air Blade widens the cut, and a third slices the Treefolk in half. Even this hardy species can’t survive such grievous injury and falls still.

“Retreat!” the surviving Hobs and Gobbos call while fleeing, as afraid of me as of the plant monsters. They don’t even notice Gabby as my companions follow me into the clearing.

The Strangler Fig is gone; I didn’t even get a good look at them. The Sundew Trap finishes his meal, neither fleeing nor attacking. I move on to the Busty Willow and the Goblin guy she has trapped.

He’s suffocating, but otherwise alright. I need to be delicate or else she’ll crush him in her death throes. Grabbing the Willow’s arm, I try to pry him loose with my Ogre Strength. Wood creaks and one arm budges a few inches, but the other tightens as she shrieks, “No, you shan’t part us! I love him!”

“What the fuck?”

“I shall remain faithful when all others would forsake him! I’ll keep the color of his eyes decades hence when none remembers his name. I’ll give him the immortality of a tree’s love!”

“Uhhh… he's choking.”

“It’s no use talking to the Willows. They’re crazy.” The Sundew Trap says as he sashays toward us. I notice the pad leaves have dropped from his back. His figure is slender like a dancer, but his hips flare into a delicious ass.

No, I won’t lose focus!

My biceps bulge as I pull the Willow’s arm another few inches loose.

“You shall never have him, hussy! Don’t worry, my love, I shan’t let her take you from me. We will perish together!”

“He’s engaged to a Douglas Fir, wood-brain. You’re the hussy,” the Sundew Trap says. 

“Eh?” I blink, startled by the unexpected assist.

“My word! I never!” The Busty Willow releases the half-conscious Goblin guy, who falls on his ass and scrambles back. “In all my years, this is the most—”

Blah, blah, blah, I tune her out as I turn to the male plant monster. “Why help me?”

The Sundew Trap spreads his arms and gestures at Gabby, Jonny in his Stone Ooze suit, Gale, and Megan in her fur bikini surrounding him. “You killed Cephalo effortlessly,” he says, referring to the Pitcher I slayed. “She was a bitch, barely more than a mindless killing machine. I didn’t want to end up like her and figured running was a fool’s bet.” The Goblin we freed scrambles to his feet and dashes away only for Gabby to trip his feet with Plant Growth. “Better to see if I could make myself useful and throw myself on your tender mercies.”

He's smart enough to realize that fact.

“Can you make food for other monsters?”

His face falls slightly. “Sadly, no. My skills are mostly focused on appearing helpless until my dinner is close enough to melt with acidic glue.”

“I haven’t forgotten you killed that Goblin. Why should I believe you won’t attack us the moment we lower our guards?”

“Please, call me Drosera.” It feels a little self-serving to introduce himself without prompting, like he thinks I’m less likely to execute someone if I know their name. “I only kill to eat, and I let him cum inside me first. That’s better than Cephalo gave her prey.”

“A low bar, if ever there was one,” Jonny comments.

“I won’t need to eat again for days after that meal,” Drosera continues, eying Megan, “Even that tasty little snack is safe around me for now.”

Gale growls protectively as she gets between Drosera and her mousy wife.

“Whatever you’re here for, you’ll need a guide…” he suggests.

“Already got one,” Brenda says, referring to herself.

Drosera frowns. “I don’t recognize you. When was the last time you visited Charlatan Forest? Your information is out of date.”

Brenda harrumphs. He probably can’t place her in his memory after her change from human to Ooze. “I’ve seen you before, though.”

He shrugs with no further comeback.

I decide to test him. “Alright, then tell me why I didn’t get a mark for the Willow Treefolk.”

Gabby looks at me in surprise. “You always get marks for overcoming an obstacle, whether you deal with it using sex or violence, regardless if your ally deals the ‘finishing blow.’ Tricking her with words should’ve counted.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I agree.

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘mark,’” Drosera says. I explain my mark system to him, including what Gabby has deduced about how they’re counted; I can’t think how he could use it against me, especially if I keep him on a short leash. “Interesting. I think I understand the problem. You gain marks for each unique rung in an evolution chain; that explains why you didn’t get anything.”

“Huh?”

His reasoning goes over my head, but Gabby seems to get it right away. “Alex, don’t you remember the classifications of monsters from the Book? Page eighty seven.”

“Um…” My inner self goes rifling through the Quick Study copy in my mind. Eventually, I find what she’s asking for, “True Monster, Promoted, Minion, and Hybrid?”

By definition: Minions are the spawn or construct of a True Monster, Promotions elevate a True Monster to a higher rank or tier, and Hybrids are the product of two or more entities being combined in some way. The Book gives the example of a Hippogriff as the documented Hybrid of a Harpy with a Centaur.

In other words, those subtypes aren't real unique evolutionary rungs and won't count towards my Mark totals.

Gabby nods, “Correct. Only True Monsters can evolve. The Servitors you fought under the mountain were Minion-type monsters. So, Sundew, what category does a Busty Willow fall under?”

He shrugs. “All I know is they don’t evolve from Mandragoras normally and never become anything else. They’re creations of the Elder.”

Minions, maybe? Dunno.

That’s a bummer. I wanted to get a lot more marks here, but the available pool is a bit shallower than hoped. I’m sure there are still plenty of opportunities to encounter, though.

“I don’t trust you,” I pronounce. Something doesn’t sit right with me.

He sighs. “So, you’re going to kill me after all? That’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d get to enjoy that beast between your legs.” Said beast twitches slightly in response. Drosera does have some assets I’m interested in, and he can read that fact on my face. He lights up and gives me a devious smile. “Perhaps there’s a method of assurance that could satisfy you?” He wiggles his hips for me suggestively.

I look him up and down. My criteria is a bit more sophisticated than mere appearances, but I'd be lying if I said it isn't a factor. 

Besides his previously mentioned delicious ass, Drosera has an androgynous face and figure. With those pouty lips, soft cheekbones, and slim shoulders, he could pass as female to most people given a dress and hair extensions. He's beautiful by any measure, the type who could be a real lady-killer if he swung that way. His cock is a modest size for a monster, his groin hairless and pristine, his balls succulent as cherries. My eyes slip from the confident smirk on those kissable lips back down to a plump posterior perfect for pounding. I want nothing more than to throw him to the ground and hammer that ass like a nail...

I clear my throat and wipe a line a drool from the corner of my mouth. “Ahem. Go on.”

“What creature in this world doesn’t have instincts to protect their biological offspring? Even monsters like us? I prefer to Bottom, but I could put a Mandragora in you to save my life. Then you can rest assured I won’t do anything to jeopardize my child.”

That’s not really the issue here. I can drop an egg for him to fertilize, no problem. Beyond that, I have my new Acid Resistance ability. But I’m not worried about him attacking me. Bearing his child or being invulnerable won’t protect my girls.

Virtually anyone I pick up in ‘Charlatan Forest’ is going to be suspect and Drosera already tricked and ate someone in front of me. Fool me twice…

On the other hand, my personal morality is that monsters are people too. I’d like to protect this random Goblin we captured as well as Drosera as long as they don’t act excessively cruel like the Pitcher Treefolk. Monsters eat monsters, that’s a fact of life I don’t hold against Gabby, Suka, and Dura, as long as they go ‘Monster-Vegan’ for me.

I can’t let the Goblin return to Bruke and join the battle against me in two days, but that’s fine because holding this little guy captive will be easy. The problem comes with a monster like Drosera: I don’t want to kill him out of necessity, I can’t let him go to act as an informant against me, and I can’t risk him hurting Gale or Megan while my back is turned.

This is a real pickle.

“Alex, I can do it.” Olindia slides from my nether tunnel and manifests herself wearing that signature oversized pink jellyfish dress. “Do to him what you did to Cottontail, and I’ll ride in there. If he tries to, like, pull any shit, I’ll melt him from the inside before he can lay a skank finger on our girls.”

Our girls? Did Olindia bond with Megan and the others after spending some time with them?

I’m a bit shocked to get such a considerate offer from the formerly lazy Slime girl. However, her suggestion does address my main concern, and this is absolutely the kind of behavior I want to encourage.

Wrapping my arms around the busty Jellyfish Slime, I plant a tender kiss on her lips. “Thank you, Olindia. Please, continue to protect them a while longer, and I can reward you properly tonight.”

Her hand strokes my member to life as she returns my kiss. “I expect big things from you.” She winks at me.

Oh! I’ll see what I can do.

We turn to Drosera, who is staring at us curiously. I smile and say, “Looks like you get to play with my beast after all.”