Cockerelles & Posies Pt. 04

"Let me just say that I desire to keep the hearts that guard the cream of my heritage as close to home as possible. I would like to know the fruit that comes from your making families of your own with my heritage in a close, personal way. You underestimate the affection I feel for you and the other Sharps. I will sacrifice whatever is necessary to keep you here especially, my oldest sister, as I do not want you wandering off in the world thinking that you are a cockerelle from some secret tryst Mother had on the side while she called Tamera her true love."

At hearing this I see Josie blush and wonder if she is frustrated with my inability to speak more determinately and reveal some secret she suspects is kept hidden from her in my heart. That I even think this causes my tummy to stir with those pleasant wings trapped within that space by my imagination.

"It will suit me well to make Tamera a grandsire with the seedlings I bring into the world with the heritage I have stolen from her," says Josie, giving me a nod to reassure me.

#4

My first appointment in my quest to secure the promises of my close kin to remain on the estate for the foreseeable future is chosen based on the ease with which the work of my convincing seems least challenging. Oh, the braggadocio my mind wields as though I have some advantage over the universe in resolving efficiently the boundless trials of the paradoxical I must face to achieve my hearts deepest desires.

"Your fear that I might slip off to some far away city in Ascending Heirs is not unfounded at all," says my sister Becka. "I've received offers to go even further across the continent in my search of prospects that match my ambitions for the future. To go as far as the north coast is the origin of my latest offer. Limits of geography should not rule my decisions which lead me to who I wish to become in my evolution within society."

"Why would you desire to stray so far away from our great city centers here in Legacy Hills? Do they not offer you something that these faraway places do?"

Becka snorts at my naivete.

"You don't even know the cost of the experiments I do here at our own home which I conduct under the power of my own labor much less the cryptocash corporations are willing to invest in my full cooperation within their research and development wings if I were to offer my talents to them unhindered by such silly requirements as keeping my current street address."

"I apologize if I have not paid enough attention to the mathematics required to calculate the monetary value of your genius to recruiters across all of Haven's Slip."

"Across Heartseed, dear sister. I promised you that your gift of root would guarantee your future wealth if it were within my power. I never promised my nightly attendance to any sleeping quarters of this house."

"You're becoming haughty in your ideas since acquiring my root and your grand promotions," I say. "What happened to the nerdy little sister I used to know?"

"That was a show to gain the attention of my betters in the industry where my interests lie. I don't wish to discard my quirky attitude with you or my peers. It's simply a practice I have had to keep for those who stood in judgment of my natural talent towards the sciences and to avoid them seeing me as someone who puts on airs of being too much a woody posy, or worse, a fiery rose born with a prodigy inclination. The behaviors I have practiced have been most acceptable to them. I guessed and did so correctly. But I could talk to you plainly like we did now and forever, if you had some miraculous idea that could make me a crown jewel in the research departments of Ambergale Institute here at home. I prefer to speak our way when we're together if I were to be honest. Tit for tat gives my heart joy. But you must know I do look like a child to them still despite my new root and changing ways of presenting myself in appearance and speech."

My heart softens hearing her willingness to continue as we did when she was still a posy and I was a cockerelle.

"Yes, I would do anything to have someone I could unleash my qualms upon. It can get boring having to strain my head all the time to sound eloquent and adultlike. You haven't said a thing about this atrocious outfit I'm wearing meant to tempt the cockerelle into giving me their seed for free."

"You do look like a little whore," she jokes. "But you are too attentive to being pleasant, with those flower and furry animal patterns you've chosen to soften the sting of your figure's timber hook you have abandoned."

"Sometimes I feel I'm mixing an exotic drink when I stand before my mirror asking the girl on the other side of the looking glass what she's peddling to the opposite sex in her mouth-watering arrangements. Too tangy? Too tart?"

Becka slaps my arm playfully.

"Be clear and honest. Tell me, what wager do you have to put on the table, Sis? I must reveal the results of my investigations into your desire to become a posy is what has brought me promises of more promotions. My want for budget is just as boundless as the black holes my fellow contenders at Ambergale keep in their own imaginary purses."

I suddenly see the real value of money in my world, and I agree with its merits for aiding my strategy to keep my family together.

"As for my labor, the sky is the limit if it will guarantee your residence here isn't abandoned. I would ache to the point of death walking into this laboratory of yours to see only an empty room waiting to greet me."

Becka thinks my willingness is greatly exaggerated to see the look she gives me.

"What about your fears of having pieces chopped off of you and holes drilled here and there for the purpose of inserting foreign devices into your body? I thought those kinds of things made you ill."

"If you would treat me like a commoner and remain always within reach of my kisses, I would let you take me apart and put me back together with silicon chips and exotic alloys to your heart's desire. But I know that you would respect my fears out of love so that I would not have to worry about such morbid things. You are the smartest cockerelle on Heartseed if you ask my opinion. I believe you already have a head full to bursting with less surgical experiments you could unleash on me if all my person were put in your safe hands."

"I will test your determination first, if that doesn't offend you," she says, putting on those glasses she hasn't worn in weeks since becoming cockerelle.

"You only wear those to advertise the fact you are a genius," I say. "That you need them to see clearly is a fabrication commonly known by all of us."

"You told me once that you thought they made me look attractive," she retorts. "Besides, they do offer a degree of safety considering the first test I wish to put you to."

I follow her over to a refrigerator where she keeps samples that would spoil at room temperature. She withdraws a thermos of stainless-steel construction, placing it on the table next to a drinking glass she takes from the cabinet where she squirrels her work-time snacks away.

"What's in there?" I ask.

She reveals a green neckband that looks much like the one I received from Ms. Pendry on my first day at Fission.

"It's a new product I am working on. It's quite the scandalous kind of thing. It does attract the crypto-investments my kind of work requires to operate my top-secret laboratory here at the house. There is a market out there for things taboo which have produced the creation of such virtual monies as the one we call Silver-Incest. It markets itself as a form of expenditure meant to encourage the investigations of uncommon family relationships. In practice, Silver-Incest has become the preferred method of letting our research and development departments know where corporations wish us to really invest our exploration efforts."

"So, that thermos contains incest inside?"

"The idea of it, yes, as well as the genetic material to back it up. If you are willing to put on the neckband and drink the contents of this thermos, I could run tests to see how effective my latest charm designs are at accomplishing the ends our investors wish to sell to their richest customers."

I take the neckband and begin determining the method needed to put it on. It becomes apparent the thing is designed to stay on once in place, considering the many attachment links hidden throughout its fastening.

"I can warm up the contents if you don't want to drink it cold."

I am frustrated that she shows no hint of surprise at my willingness to cooperate.

"How is this a challenge," I demand to know, "other than determining how to put on this lovely piece of cloth? Is the concoction within supposed to turn me into some kind of sex-thirsty monster?"

Becka's smile doubts my willingness to follow through with my promise to do whatever is necessary to keep her on our family campus.

"I think if I were to tell you what it contains, after you filled your mouth with a swig, you would see me wise that I took the precaution of wearing these glasses."

"Is it icky?" I ask.

"I think I know your heart as well as you do if not better. I've hinted a thousand times that you could do with implants when you were cockerelle. But really, what cockerelle hopes that their breasts be anything but flat? A bit of cleavage on the chest is synonymous with posy. Keeping one's self in such as state is the practice and even achievement sought by some cockerelle."

"My resistance was only ever about their natural appearance, Sis. I thought I made myself clear on that. Injections and such things are what cockerelles choose to broadcast to everyone that they find the size of things to be something of importance. Posies are left to wonder just how large the root is if their suitor's made their breasts big to compliment it. My thoughts were always sympathetic to a posy's fear that her carriage might suffer damage if the mating branch she finds is in fact proportional to the size to which some cockerelle have artificially filled out their own breasts."

"You and your obsession with people and their sexual intentions."

"The right intentions is what makes love to be love and not a journey through the gutters of icky whoring."

"I get it. A set of real breasts on your woody frame would help sell the fact that your choice of posy came from your aspiration to realize true devotion to the labors of your sexual identity. Especially important to you those, considering the many cockerelle you fantasize about draining at Fission once your secret can safely come out. Those who knew you personally might not flinch at all at the idea of putting their heritage in the mouth of a posy who used to be one of their own if your breasts seem natural."

"You think I error in thinking that other cockerelles might share the same fetish for kissing wood that I have."

"I know you do," she says. "I know I have no desire in me to do such a thing, and I did not when I was still a posy. I think I believe the opinions of my friends and family too who share the same experience. You would claim the gods made the majority of us odd in that we desire to be one sex far more than the other."

"So, I am the odd one for wanting wood?"

"Yes."

"So how could this charm-concoction mix aid me in my desire to live like an alien among my people?"

"Every cockerelle likes their posy to have a cushion on their chest that proves their sex is authentic to their friends and other onlookers when they go out on the town. Now that you are a posy you could follow in the footsteps of your sister Josie and charm your way into larger breasts."

"A cruel touché. Grandmother Tamera made Josie out to be some kind of guzzler. A fanatic, fatted pig full of her own ego, desperate to come eye-to-eye with her sire. But Josie suspected Tamera was not her true planter long ago to hear her talk. It's all a kind of madness that I wish we could set aside and make things lovely at home. And not lovely again, no. More lovely than it has ever been."

"So, you will love your way into larger breasts with what I have created here."

"I have no breasts at all, Becka. I've a child's nips, and the bulging presence of a ghost. The only thing that marks my chest as posy is what I feel within it. I would certainly consider love an adequate motivation to establish my growing nubs. And I would make it a sign that I wish to be seen as deeply cleansed, sanitized of all woody desires for my own construction that frame the visage of the ideal cockerelle."

She helps me strap the thing around my neck as it's not something one can easily remove should they grow tired of wearing it.

"The neckband will leave a mark on the skin which signifies the way you went about acquiring your distracting bosoms. Would help protect you from the kind of reputation those cockerelles have who choose implants to create that bizarre woody notoriety among their feathered peers."

"What does this mark look like?" I ask. "Is it gruesome?"

"It is telling, I can say first and foremost. Bringing the high sciences in line with modern science is a leap not easily made, you must understand. It's about the same as trying to recreate all of the chaos and evolution that went into evolving our eyes to see how it happened.

"Think about it. Our two orbs can detect certain spectrums of light so distinctly that we can see each other and make sense of the world around us. Amazing, isn't it? Now try to reverse engineer that using only the tools fabricated on Heartseed, devices limited by our understanding of the atoms and quarks and other small pieces of matter we use in our struggle to explain how the universe really works. You're asking me to foretell what your seedling's birthmark will look like before the little one has even been conceived in the womb."

"I do love it when you try and confuse me with your philosophical words. I suppose I'm asking where will it be prominent on my skin? Or is it a lock of hair that turns a different shade? Or is it a mole? Or is it a horn or a hoof or a trunk or a -"

"Stop, silly," says Becka, swirling the contents of the steel container in her hands. "It's a tattoo that appears on the neck for everyone to see. One side of the neck and small has been the pattern in our trials. But what shape it takes, and what symbol it represents is something we have been struggling to predict. You see, our clients like a bonus with their charms that turn swallowed seed into breast matter. They especially like it when they know the seed comes through some taboo relationship. And that is the heart-string of the great machine in heaven which my clients wish me to find the other end of."

"Are these taboo symbols then?"

"Yes, and they make the cockerelles quite hungry and ready to part with their cryptocash in our trial subjects, knowing that the posy they pursue has sipped a forbidden elixir recently."

"Is it your seed in this thermos?" I ask.

Becka chuckles confidently.

"Yes, and the fact that it comes from your sister would activate the bonus feature in their growth if I have done my calculations correctly."

"My breasts?"

"Using you as a test subject would save me sacks of expenses trying to find another pair of sisters willing to take part at such an early phase in my experiments, considering the fact that our exact identities will go on the paperwork included in my study for peer review. None of my clients want the public trapesing through their romantic illusions to discover these posies are drinking their sister's seed, especially having it written in those exact terms in the print of a popular scientific journal. Hence, the hefty insurance policy posy sisters require to make us go to great lengths to guarantee their involvement appears purely scientific in its motivation. Point is, I'll present the image that you imbibe my seed through a straw labeled anonymous on your end, and that I'm connected to a machine extracting my seed in the most sanitary and accidental fashion possible on the other."

"Yes, but I still don't see how a future customer would know that the seed that has gone into stuffing their lover's rib pillows came from toiling on the root of their posykin. Tattoos are easily made."

"Their breast's reaction to being touched is one thing that makes it apparent to our investors hoping to convince their customers to buy into such a charm."

"It will make my breasts larger while also making me more susceptible to arousal when they are touched?"

"They perk right up when contacted by your object of desire, much like a root when awakened. Strange behavior, yes?

"Odd, yes."

"And a cockerelle knowing their lover has been drinking their sister's seed tends to make the posy out like a scamp who gets her naughty on through frequent visits underneath the family dining table. Seeing her breasts grow to be more prominent day by day, the cockerelle need not be present to learn the posy is actually drinking from a filled thermos they begged from a relative like the one I hold here in my hands for you."

"They like the idea of incest then. Yet your product keeps the posy and the cockerelle from being implicated of incest should the authorities come sniffing around."

"Especially valuable if the charms effect is only temporary. Knowing that your lover's breasts are being made sensitive by the seed swallowed from close kin is a fetish that many discreet cockerelles find quite desirable to explore. That they quickly fade when the neckband comes off proves the authenticity of the taboo. And don't forget the mark left upon the neck which stays to identify to anyone who sees it that this particular posy shows all of this dynamic change on her chest depending on how frequently she sips forbidden seed throughout the week."

"The neckband brands the posy girl a pseudo outlaw?"

"We prefer to market the neckband to the rebellious types like you, Sister. If the posy plays the part of family-scamp, the cockerelles go crazy over it."

"Take a picture," I say, stealing the thermos from Becka to remove both the lid and the contents. The later, of course, goes down my gullet in a quick series of swigs. When the container in my hand lands heavily on the lab table, I find my sister looking at me with more shock than she thought she would feel at seeing me do such a thing so brashly.

I wipe my mouth with my fingers and lick them clean.

"Yes, I would prefer it warm next time around. How many times did it require to fill this thermos?"

"You are the picture of scandalous that we will have in our dictionaries in the future, Margot."

Her hand goes to her crotch as she turns around to check the readouts on the tablet computer she has lying behind her on the table.

"This challenge will prove a fun thing we can do together," I say. "We don't have to discard our ribbing that we've shared since we were children just to make your income match that of any top-level industry cockerelle."

"I would like to keep that part of our relationship a thing if we could," she says, turning around with a tear in her eye. "You've touched me with your bravery, Margot. And here I thought all these years you couldn't wait to be rid of me."

"You thought I patronized you with my joking all these years? I adore you, Becka."

Becka hugs me with all her strength.

"Oh, you don't know what it's like to grow up a posy, sis, in this society. You're always left guessing what a cockerelles true motivations are. Were your barbs meant for fun or were they meant to sting? It did foment a kind of vindictiveness in my desire to take your root from you. I hope that doesn't hurt you to learn."

I return her hug and notice there is a stiffness hidden beneath her clothes that she is trying to conceal from my thigh. I press myself into it to let her know that she needn't be ashamed if my antics give her lusty feelings.