109. Charlatan Forest, Part 7 (R-18)

109. Charlatan Forest, Part 7 (R-18)Spoiler

Ugly old bastard raping prisoners

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I deal with the Grubbins one by one. There’s no putting it off. They’ll eat each other if we don’t Pacify them. Some are large and dark, while others are small and barely blackened.

No matter how much milk I feed the large, dark ones, they don’t change color. In fact, they hate milk and won’t drink unless we force them. We’ve determined these are the ones that ate Tokt. They gained a taste for flesh and won’t tolerate anything else.

A couple of them will drink the milk, but their bodies won’t turn white. Gabby says it’s like how some monsters can’t evolve along certain paths even with all the requirements fulfilled. There’s an affinity aspect to evolution that can’t be forced. They were born from Murder Hornets, and that breeding runs true.

Others take to my milk like human babes. It’s weird to nurse the maggoty insectoid monsters, but I’ve been training for years to be a monster Tamer or Breeder. Part of that is mental training. Growing up in the association, us girls are conditioned by giving us various monster baby dolls to pretend-nurse, change, and burp.

Bee Girls are one of the monster species known to my hometown, and there are still old, faded bounties in the archives that were once posted to reward any Tamer willing to go out and get impregnated by one. A steady stream of honey from mature Bee Girls would’ve drastically improved the quality of life for everyone in town. I can only imagine the celebration we’d have had if I returned from my first day as a Tamer with a Bee Girl larva!

That thought brings a smile to my face. A smile quickly dashed by the dark task ahead.

Of the score Grubbins recovered, only ten make the transition to Bee Girl, including the one glued to my right breast. The rest...

“You don’t have to do this, Alex,” Olindia says, surprising me. “I can make it quick.” She’s the only monster here who gets it. Gabby loves me, but she has the mind of a monster. ‘Meat is meat.’ Eating prey that can talk doesn’t faze her; she only abstains because it makes me uncomfortable. Brenda was once human, but she grew up in the woods and doesn’t share my hometown’s culture. They can’t imagine why I’d let the monsters go if only it wouldn’t cost some poor bunny or Doggin their life somewhere down the road. Jonny understands since he went to most of the same classes I did, but I’m the leader.

“It’s my responsibility.” I lift a boulder from the ground with Earth Magic and Ogre Strength, and then, with a heavy heart, I crush the Murder Hornet larvae.

I need a minute.

Shake it off! Shake it off, Alex.

I survey the nine beautiful baby... grubs grown all fat and white. They’re undergoing the same metamorphosis as the first, finding things to glue themselves to while their skins harden, and their guts rearrange into a new shape. If I’m right, and my mark system has never been wrong before, they’ll be darling little Sweet Bee girls soon enough. It’ll all be worth it.

“Brenda, you’re baby carriage. Olindia, protect Jonny.” Brenda’s hard Stone Ooze skin and soft Green Slime interior make her the safest place to put the fragile larvae. We tried removing the one on my chest, but it feels like we’ll damage her before the glue rips free.

The two former humans exchange frowns. Neither seems pleased.

“Um, like, where do I put my core?” the Pink Slime asks.

Jonny holds his ass closed with both hands while shaking his head emphatically, ‘no.’

“Jonny, darling, sweety, babe! Come on, we’re besties, aren’t we?” I plead with him while he shakes his head even harder, buttocks clenched like iron. “What’s a little butt stuff between besties?”

“She can keep her core on the outside!” he objects. “I’m saving my ass for true love!”

“I’m not leaving my core to swing in the wind!” Olindia fires back.

“I’ll protect Jonny,” Drosera offers.

““...””

“How?” I venture to ask.

The Sundew Trap proceeds to drop a seed from the white flower bud on his head. The seed then grows into a Sundew plant. Drosera’s hands glow green as he focuses his magic on rapidly aging the plant into a huge version of itself. Over the course of a few minutes, (which explains why he didn’t do this during the battle) the Sundew plant grows to the size of a carriage.

The plant’s arms bow out with their tips touching to form a hollow in the center. Roots rise from the earth and lift the structure from the ground to walk it about like the Twisted Apple Treefolk. It really is a carriage!

Every surface is covered with those red stalks tipped with sticky dew.

“Get in, hot stuff.”

I have to say, I’m impressed. “Nice ride.”

“Thanks, I guess. Had to get rid of it to pose as a Mandragora.”

Jonny and Brenda still aren’t pleased with the situation. Hmm. “Alright, Drosera, you carry the larvae. The rest of us, business as usual.”

I summon my red crab armor to protect the little one on my chest. Summoning automatically resizes depending on my stature, and I rightly assume it'll adjust the front to envelop my charge. The infant Sweet Bee should be defended from most enemies like this.

We get in formation, Jonny with his Green Stone Ooze Brenda-suit, Drosera wearing his Pink Jellyfish Olindia miniskirt while carrying our precious cargo in a Sundew Carriage, and Gabby in the middle where she won’t get grabbed by wandering tentacles again. The six of us stride into the woods guided by my Partner Tracker.

“Shit,” I say as a thought occurs to me.

“What, now?” Olindia asks.

“The last thing Flou said before the Murder Hornets came. Suka said she, Dura, and Lucinia are all stuck in the desert. Anything could’ve happened to them by now and we’ve got no way to know.”

Gabby reassures me, “Suka and Dura are strong, remember. Trust in them. They’ll be fine.” I take her words for what they’re worth and try not to be consumed with worry.

After a few minutes of travel, Drosera pipes up, “You realize we’re headed straight for the Elder, right?”

“Oh, fucking damn it. Megan, Gale, and Flou could’ve landed anywhere but count on my luck to have them plop in the Elder Treefolk’s lap.”

“Elderberry,” Brenda says, correcting me. I look at her funny. “The Elderberry Tree rules this forest.”

“A Twisted Elderberry Treefolk,” Gabby says, considering. Then she turns to me. “Alex, promise me, we have to steal his cock!”

I grin. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“That one’s a Treefolk,” Drosera says, pointing at an otherwise unassuming oak. The moment he does, a shocked face appears in the bark.

“Hey, you fucking bussy bitch! No fair!”

“Got it,” Jonny says, happy to swing his stony fists around. Brenda seems content to let him play with her strength. The Twisted Apple Treefolk tries to run but doesn’t get far. “Timber!”

That said, their insectoid wings are better at hovering and side-to-side or up-and-down. Sort of an ancient human helicopter verses jet fighter situation. Harpy flight requires an extra mark for Tailfeathers, whereas Swarm flight is cheaper by the number of marks it costs. Which option I ultimately go with depends on how useful the other abilities in the tree are, like when I decided on Orc Stature verses Bunny Patron Stature.

Next is testing the Venom Darts. They’re basically short spears, or daggers with long handles depending on how you think of them. However, their base material is chitin, making them more durable than the wooden Fishman Spears I’m used to. Better durability means I can apply more force without shattering them. Add in their venomous property and they seem like superior weapons.

Their only shortcoming is that they don’t burn well. That doesn't sound like a bad thing until I try to use my Ember Magic on a Venom Dart. It just chars and smolders without casting any sparks when shattered. Basically useless.

I’m sticking to my Ember Spears when fighting flammable enemies. Otherwise, the Venom Darts are a halfway-decent weapon upgrade.

I catch Gabby giving me a contemplative look. “What?”

“Just thinking about Echidnas,” she says, her eyes tracing my new wings. “You’re going to have the region under your thumb in a matter of days.”

“I didn’t know what I was signing up for when we met,” Drosera adds while appreciating the additions to my body as well, “But I can’t say I hate it.”

I can tell by the erection pressing through his Stone Ooze suit that Jonny approves of the changes. He’s a human raised to breed monsters. To us, the stranger the appearance, the stronger the monster, the more important it is to breed them. He’s conditioned to be attracted to powerful monsters the way far-ancient humans were attracted to portly, curvaceous figures as a sign of fertility and wealth.

I give him four finger-guns and a wink.

As the six of us approach the heart of the forest, I get glimpses of a certain landmark through the canopy. It’s something I first spotted from the air when Gabby kidnapped me on my way home. Finally getting a good look takes my breath away.

The Elder is big. Redwood big. Head and shoulders above his peers. Big enough for an ancient human car to drive through a hole in the trunk like in an ancient human postcard. I mean, come on, that’s a lot of wood! There’s no way we have enough damage to take something like him on.

If I expected a body like said redwood, I'd be disappointed. His face is lumpy with gnarls and he's pudgy around the gut. The massive Elderberry tree has a face like a Twisted Apple Treefolk, his jaws a gaping hole in the trunk without the jagged teeth of his younger cousins.

Gabby, Drosera, and I sneak closer for a better look while Jonny and Brenda guard the Sundew carriage.

The Elder appears to be holding ‘court’ as it were. Twisted Treefolk, Pitchers, and Busty Willows form a perimeter around the small clearing beneath the shadow of the Elder’s branches. A couple of Strangler Figs approach him and unfurl their chests.

“Ah, what have we here? Is it supper time already?”

The Elder’s wooden branch arms are long enough to grab the captives inside from a dozen feet away. He chuckles as he drags a Dire Wolf and an Orcess in close. We see a massive rod stiffen at the base of his trunk; the wrinkled shaft’s size is more fit for a horse than anything appropriate to find on a humanoid.

“That’ll make a good staff,” Gabby says with utter confidence. I do admire that about her even when I feel it’s ill-placed. This guy is bad news.

"Dance for me," he commands, his voice that of an abusive grandpa. His prey gyrates and twirls in terror, fake smiles on their faces. The audience claps and jeers at their technique. "Eat," he says while shaking his branches to shower them in rotten elderberries that splatter on impact, "Enjoy your last meal."

The noxious juices get everywhere, some inevitably slipping into the poor captives' mouths despite their spluttering. Both begin to gag and wretch while stumbling about as if drunk. Perhaps they are if the elderberries are similar to the Twisted Apples.

Laughing at his victims’ terror, the Elder taunts them for a few minutes before fulfilling his perverted desires. His phallic spear is far too big to enter either captive without tearing, but he clearly doesn’t care as he uses them one by one. After ravishing them to completion and relishing in their pain, he proceeds to eat them at a torturously slow pace.

"This is my favorite sauce," he comments on the elderberry-slathered victims before taking the first bite. His audience starts begging him for a taste, though the Strangler Figs remain deathly quiet.

"There's another pair ready, sir," an unusually large Pitcher says after the meal is finished.

"Excellent, it’s important we perform their ceremony before the battle. Bring them to me."

They know about the upcoming war? What is he planning?

“Fuck this,” I whisper under my breath in disgust. I have a more urgent task.

I go to move on as my Partner Tracker says my girls aren't here, but Drosera stops me with a hand on my shoulder. "Wait."

“Seriously?”

“You wanted to know about Fruit Nymphs?” I nod. “Keep watching.”

Every second we spend here ratchets up the tension growing inside me after being separated from Gale, Megan, and Flou3, but I listen to him. While I'm not sure what we have to gain from watching another such grisly scene, I quickly find this pair is not like the first.

A Busty Willow leads a Mandragora man and a human woman before the Elder, the two of them holding hands for mutual comfort. Both are intimidated by the huge tree monster, but neither seem terrified. This isn’t their first time in the Elder’s presence.

“E-Elder, we’re ready for the ceremony,” the young man says.

"Ah, congratulations to both of you on reaching your age of majority. It’s well and time for you to join the ranks of our esteemed peers.” The audience cheers maliciously as the Elder continues. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together these two with unholy matrimony. Well, without further ado...”

He grabs and pulls them near, both new victims cringing at the blood on his maw and the stink of his breath. But what he does this time is different. Wooden claws pierce the Mandragora's chest like wet paper and he withdraws the beating, green heart dripping ichor. The boy dies with a look of betrayal on his face.

Horrified and screaming denial, her lover’s forevermore-still hand yet clenched in hers, the girl can do nothing as the Elder presses the boy’s freshly excised heart to her chest. Impossibly, the girl’s red-blooded flesh yields to the green heart and accepts it into herself.

Immediately, she begins to transform. Her skin turns green, except for her breasts, which swell in size and become the lush red of giant strawberries studded with seed-like achenes. Blueberries grow in her hair along with small white flowers. The girl’s clit balloons to ten inches long with impressive girth, turning yellow with peelable foreskin like a banana. A pair of cherry gonads drop beneath the golden rod.

At the same time, the Mandragora boy’s body shudders. His corpse dries rapidly to a woody texture and unspools itself into a pile of noodles. The tentacles then curl and twist themselves into the haunting shape of a Strangler Fig Treefolk with hollows where his eyes and mouth should be.

“The Elder’s magic ritual is Promoting them to second-tier,” Gabby observes, confirming the reason I didn’t get a mark for the Stranglers either.

Drosera watches the proceedings with revulsion, whispering in my ear, “The first Fruit Nymph was a sacrifice of love to save a life. This is a perversion, further twisted to create the Willows and Stranglers. All because he can’t grow Flower Dryads. It’s pathetic, really. A waste of delicious humans and a squandering of the Mandragoras’ potential.”

I choose to believe the ‘delicious humans’ comment refers to the potent pheromones I’ve come to appreciate since becoming a monster myself. But it doesn’t matter, I don’t need a list of who Drosera has eaten if he’s willing to go ‘vegan’ from now on.

Tasting this Fruit Nymph would certainly be on my mind if I wasn’t disgusted by how she was made.

Regardless, I’m beginning to understand. Unlike this process, Flower Dryads must be a natural Mandragora evolution that is—or has become—rare in this region. But why can’t the Elder produce them? Instead, he goes about this route to make Fruit Nymphs that can bait the traps his subordinates lay in the forest.

“Ahn!” the Nymph cries as she strokes her new member with both hands. “This feels sho good! I can’t shtop!” She has an inebriated look about her, slurring speech as if her mind is clouded with a haze of lust. Her eyes glaze over as she looks past the Strangler, not recognizing it as the body of her former fiancé she held hands with mere minutes ago.

“Send her to the Prisoner Pen. She can use them to quench her heat,” the Elder directs with sadistic glee. The Stranglers hop at his command with no remnant of their previous life’s will remaining. They lead the poor girl stumbling away while she desperately jerks off.

Said captives happen to be in the same direction my Partner Tracker is leading me. “Move out.”