Monster Breeder

“Alright, clean up all the fornication for a minute, there’re kids coming,” I cut off Sue before she can get into a full explanation. We can have a round of introductions followed by dealing with Kani’s business before I decide what to do with everyone.

The Fuzzy Folk look at me like I’m the weirdo but hop to my command. They let their Fuzzies run wild until they evolve into mice and bunnies and join the Warren, so their parenting style is on the extremely lax side until their offspring comes of age. (Thankfully, this region’s predators seem to think it’s a waste to eat Fuzzies prior to their second-tier evolution, but I should probably make it a point to round up all the younglings before anything happens.) Presumably, some Fuzzy Folk keep better track of their offspring but, regardless, they’re far from humanity’s prudish sensibilities.

By the time the group of juvenile Mandragora and human children arrive, the perversity is mostly under control. The Fruit Nymphs are freshly milked, giving them a few minutes of post-nut clarity to speak on their own behalves, and grass skirts to cover their modesty. We clean up Cottontail and she re-summons her Showbunny outfit to repair the stains and tears. Kani’s nethers are covered by slippery foam again.

Also, Spindle gave me some comfortable, yet sexy purple lingerie covered in floral designs. Clothes at last! Bless that arachnid degenerate!

I wish Spindle had made underwear for everybody, but would probably be a big waste of her time. From what she told me, her Dark Magic threads fade with time. She’ll need to continually refresh the magic of everything she makes to maintain its ontological inertia. If she leaves on a mission, the pavilions and all her creations could disappear, forcing her to start from scratch. Asking her to knit clothes is a bit much until her creations become functionally permanent. Maybe after her next evolution…

Well, the mice, bunnies, and Harpies are all naked, but they’re basically nudists, so at least no one is embarrassed about the situation. It’s not that bad since the kids are only wearing flower gowns to cover themselves, so they probably won’t be shocked by the furry naturists.

No, the children are much more interested in all the strange monsters they’re seeing. Their eyes linger on the non-human features of the Fuzzy Folk, Webling, Cancer, Goblinoid, and Canine kin prisoners in our midst, not least of all my monster parts. I bet they’ve gotten minimal education on the monster races of the world. They look at me with fear and trepidation. I did attack the ‘green mommy’ without provocation, after all. Winning them over is going to be a long-term project.

“Alright, first things first. Kani, you know my head wife Gabby, but I gathered a few more harem members since we met. This is Spindle, my…?” I’m suddenly at a loss for how to describe my complex relationship with the Webling miscreant bearing my spawn.

“‘Maid,’” she supplies. “Spindle is tickled by the moniker. After all, ~Everybody ought to have a maid! A working girl, a lurking girl, to putter around the house! Efficient and reliable, obedient and pliable, a charm who brings you luck! Someone you can bend over and~”

“That’s enough,” I cut off her upbeat singing before the Webling says a naughty word in front of the kids. “This is Cottontail, my…” Shit, why have I been so damn lax making things official? It feels so weird calling her my girlfriend at this point. She’s carrying my child, and I can’t deny I love her! But glossing over things feels wrong too. My hand clenches around Gabby’s ring on my finger.

I get down on one knee in front of the bunny girl and take her hand in mine. “Cottontail, I don’t have a ring for you, but will you be my wife?”

She flushes bright red. “W-W-W-W-Wi…???” Then she faints into my arms. I think that’s a yes. Honestly, I need to arrange a ceremony at some point to satisfy my human sensibilities.

“Meet Cottontail, my Fiancé.” The Fuzzy Folk all applaud with overwhelming exuberance. I guess they’re excited that I’m basically legitimizing Cottontail’s authority by recognizing her as an official spouse.

Kani blinks in surprise, then embarrassment. “I didn’t realize she was of higher status than myself. I apologize again for my indiscretion, Lady Alex.”

“No problem, I’m sure Cottontail was having fun.” Considering she’s technically a third-tier monster, I suspect Kani wouldn’t have stood a chance if the Showbunny had gotten serious. “This is my wife, Gale, and her wife, Megan.”

The Denki Nezumi girl pats Cottontail’s hand reassuringly before awakening the Showbunny with a kiss. “Congratulations, big sis.” They bring new meaning to the term, ‘sister wives.’

This is going to take forever if I don’t hurry up a little. “Olindia is one of my girlfriends; she’s part of my entourage but it looks like she’s not in the mood to come out.”

“Oh, right, the beach bimbo. She’s still inside you?” Kani asks.

I feel a churning in my gut like Olindia is about to start trouble. “Olindia isn’t a bimbo. Don’t be rude. She’s been a huge help and even saved my life several times.” That sets the Pink Slime at contented ease inside me.

“Another blunder,” Kani says, apparently scolding herself. “I will attempt to be more congenial. Politeness is a new skill I’m attempting to learn.” I am curious about that.

“This is my boyfriend, Jonny, and his girlfriend, Brenda.”

The two of them wave hello, and Bonny scampers over to leap into his arms. “I’m his first harem girl!” the bigear mouse says.

Continuing on, “Then we have a few new harem members who are new to everyone. This is Sue, Megan’s first personal retainer.” The fact Megan evolved is obvious, but I’m sure it’ll cause more of a stir once this business is settled. “She has my, Gale, and Megan’s respect.” I can almost literally see my words elevating her status in the eyes of the onlooking rodent kin and Harpies.

Aello basically made Gale royalty to the Harpy clan after our informal marriage (no proposal or ceremony, we just decided we were married yesterday), allowing her to extend her clan’s protection to anyone she favors. I expect the Harpies will treat Sue with that level of deference from now on.

The same will go for Megan and her personal entourage as soon as the Fuzzy Folk fully recognize the fact she’s their second new third-tier in generations.

“And this is Drosera, my good acquaintance. He’s been very helpful today and followed me when it would’ve been easier to walk away. For that, he has my appreciation, my protection, and an invitation to tonight’s org—I mean, ‘Feast.’” Nice save in front of the kids. “However, should he disobey my ‘Veganism’ edict, and you can prove it, I will withdraw that protection.”

The Sundew Treefolk pales at my pronouncement but makes no protest.

Spindle slowly, ever so slowly, turns her head to focus the inhuman, predatory glare of eight purple eyes luminescent with Dark Magic on him. Drosera squirms as he senses the bottomless malicious intent hidden behind the peaceful façade of her fake smile.

“That same rule applies to the ‘guests’ I brought home with me.” I turn to the prisoners I rescued from Charlatan Forest and point at the bunny girl, then the mouse boy, who freeze at my gesture. “Cottontail, do you know them?”

The two rodent kin in question rush forward at a sprint to kneel and bow before the Showbunny. They can recognize power and influence when they see it. The two of them beg and plead in two overlapping, desperate, discordant voices that prevent me from understanding anything they say.

“Yes,” Cottontail says, “They used to bully me.” Megan cracks her knuckles. The two Fuzzy Folks’ expressions crumble into despair. Then the Showbunny lowers Megan’s fist with a calm hand. “It’s fine. I didn’t even get hurt.” She musters her resolve and raises her voice in a display of leadership that makes me so proud, “The New Warren welcomes you both home.”

And Cottontail saying so makes it true.

The two of them sigh with relief and try to slink away from public scrutiny before they garner any more attention. Except they’re stopped by Chris the fluffy angora bunny girl. She puts a hand on their shoulders and says, “Anybody who messes with these two messes with me! Cottontail said they’re ‘Welcome,’ so don’t go thinking you can get away with bullying them now just because of what they did to her in the past.”

The Showbunny blinks in pleasant surprise at her gesture. “T-thank you, Chrissy. I didn’t think of that.”

“No problem, as your #2, I’ve got your back whenever…” Chrissy notices Megan’s sparking death-glare. “#3! I meant to say, as your #3, I’ve always got your back, boss!”

I snort at her power-hungry antics. Cottontail doesn’t seem to care and worrying about such things is kind of beneath where my attention should be. I’m sure my sweet Showbunny can handle the situation.

“Gabby?” I raise the question, and my Goblin wife reads my mind without another word.

She scans the faces of the Orc, two female Hobs, and the Goblin girl one more time before dismissing them from her mind entirely. “I have no interest in them. They’re yours.”

Okay, then.

I point at the male Dire Wolf and Doggin boy next. “Do either of you claim to know Suka?” Both nod their heads enthusiastically. Yeah, they would say that. I suppose it doesn’t matter until Suka gets home to vouch for them.

Not that I’d trust any of these monsters that haven’t proven themselves.

My gaze lands on the pregnant Pitcher woman who lost her monstrous base. To my great surprise, Jonny is holding her free hand in his. You sure about that, buddy? I know he’s seen what they’re capable of. She looks taken aback, but clearly appreciative of his goodwill gesture. Also, didn’t she have only one flower in her hair earlier? Now there are three…

“Please include these two in your decision,” Spindle says, shifting my focus as a handful of mice pull a pair of Dire Wolves, a male and a female, into the pavilion by nooses around their necks. The Canines have haggard expressions like they’ve seen some wild shit today. Strangely, they seem terrified of Cottontail of all people, who is embarrassed for some reason. Huh. “This is what’s left of a group that attempted to invade the New Warren while you were gone, Vermillion,” the Webling supplies when I raise a questioning brow.

All the prisoners look nervous as if I’m about to decide their fate. Which, I am.

It’s a delicate balance. I want to be merciful but releasing them to join the armies of my enemies is right out. There’s also an element similar to the Murder Hornet larvae where I feel responsible for anyone they hurt after I could’ve dealt with them. At the same time, I grew up around Goblinoids and Canines, so I don’t have the racial biases that might have an ancient human kill them out of hand. To me, they’re basically innocent folks aside from their carnivorous habits. I want to give them a chance.

By sheer coincidence, Aello and her entourage arrive, swooping into the pavilion before landing and settling in as they realize I’m about to speak. They must be here for dinner. I did promise them food aplenty, after all.

“Hear me. My name is Alex. I defeated Aello the Harpy Matron to gain control over the Harpy Mountain clan, I’m marrying Cottontail, the Mistress of the New Warren, and my wife Gabby owns this land by adverse possession. By my authority, this is now Field Town. As the person in charge around here, I guess that makes me the Lady Mayoress.”

Murmuring runs rampant through the crowd at my announcement, and I can already hear my totally original and uniquely clever town name being truncated to Fieldton. That lasted all of five seconds.

I raise my top pair of arms, calling for silence before continuing, “As my first act, I hereby pardon all our prisoners.” Said prisoners heave a collective deep sigh of relief. “However, we won’t be letting them go free. Consider them our permanent guests with all appropriate guest rights fully instated. They will feast with us and work alongside us but sleep in their own private quarters unless invited to spend the night elsewhere. Any among them who violates either of our two core principles—Monster-Veganism and the banning of rape—will have their guest privileges revoked.”

Spindle’s head turns toward the former prisoners with excruciating slowness, her eyes glinting with unholy light, her gaze full of lust for corruption and destruction, a thin veneer of a smile plastered onto that rictus mask. Said former prisoners have no illusion of what will happen to them should their guest privileges be revoked. None of them seem eager to be dragged to hell by a nascent spider demon.

“Oh, I missed an introduction, earlier. This is Brenda’s dad, Douglas. He’s cool.” Every monster eye in the pavilion (except for Brenda and the Mandragoras) snaps to the salt-and-pepper bachelor with lustful hunger. “Actually, Gabby, can he have the Hut? It’s a little cramped for us at this point, so I was planning to sleep out here in the pavilion anyway.” I want to give him a private room to retreat to where nobody can bother him when he’s done screwing sexy monsters to his heart’s content.

My Goblin wife shrugs assent. “Sure, but you owe me a new research lab.”

“Fair enough.” I don’t want to gloss over my next point, so I go ahead and say, “Let’s make sure everyone is on the same page, real quick. It’s fine for predators and prey to intermingle here—I even expect it. Anybody can walk up to anyone they want to…” my eyes dart toward the children and back, “…‘Spend the night with’ and ask for consent. Their intended has the right to refuse, though, or change their minds if things don’t go how they expect. Ignore that refusal at your own risk because my ears, my harem’s ears, and especially my Maid’s ears are always open to conduct complaints."