Cockerelles & Posies Pt. 04

"That feels so good," I say, reaching up to caress her arms. "Now you know of my secret feelings for you, Mother." I say this last bit uncertain myself whether my words are play or real. I don't want it to stop just yet.

"Yes, I took your seed," she says. "And now I'm going to use it to steal back my youth. A mess on your chest should be your punishment for giving me this pain in my back all those years ago."

Her brow turns into concern one last time before proceeding.

I do my best to smile my pretend enjoyment of the proceedings. I am truly elated when she buys it.

Her panties come down, releasing her stiff timber from its restraints. Her tight stretchy pants are held down below her seed sack. She uses her hand to draw down the neck of her emerald tank top so that her breasts are out where she can rub them as we proceed.

"Sorry," she says when her tip bumps across my nose.

I look at her root and see that it has taken on quite a bit of girth since she's first had it. Then I remember the green choker ring Grandmother Tamera left for me, and I recall that Mom asked it back a week ago. I had no use for it anymore. Obviously, she did.

"I'm not very good at this whole pulling thing, so you'll have to be patient while I draw out your punishment."

"I do have a lot of practice," I whisper up between lips subdued.

Mother grimaces at the thought.

My raised eyebrow warns her not to be shy and waste this opportunity to prove this dream Lulu has sold her is too much for her stomach to bear.

Mother runs her fingers over her red mane, catching the green strap around her head that gives her hair the look of some lower-class princess crowned.

My hand obeys without being asked.

"If you promise to release me afterward, I will submit," I say, as I begin. "But must I kiss and lick it too? That is too cruel."

"What?" Mother begins to protest as my tongue gently caresses the underside of her treetop.

I grasp her sack with my other hand to prevent her from drawing away in fear of regretting our experiment.

It takes only a few strokes between my lips to convince her to fully commit to the role.

"Don't swallow it," she says as though I might be some kind of fool who doesn't understand what's required of me. "I will unleash it on your breasts. That is the requirement of our gods who give me healing through your humiliation."

Her hand goes to the top of my head to make her feel as though she's in control of the situation.

My hands gently press against the back of her thighs, encouraging her to poke deeper inside, before I drop them to my hips to preserve the impression that I would ever want her to do such a thing.

Mother inches forward on the toes of her classic sneakers, her hips pressing her timber into the back of my throat.

Her thighs contact the tips of my hard, little nipples once, and my hands nearly grapple her cheeks to pull her in closer, though I manage to restrain myself.

My eyes roll up and I see Mother wrapped in bliss. I use my tongue to encourage her to release her seed bravely.

Her hand grips my hair tight. The other, which has balled itself into a tight fist by her side, uncurls and comes around to grab her shaft to finish the job as her pumping into my mouth brings her to joyous conclusion.

I'm surprised by the brevity of it all. I would have guessed things going a lot longer to get finished, considering the awkward feelings our actions should have given prevention against.

Her seed soaks my naked breasts, and I am compelled to wipe some of it up to taste it for the creation of those guilty feelings I suspect are important to brining her the relief from pain she hopes to receive from our shameful act.

But Mother is not at all distressed at seeing me in my condition after the strength of her passion begins to subside as it tends to do quite rapidly in the cockerelle after climax.

"You are a naughty girl who needs a lot more of this punishment to get you straightened out," she says, putting her hands against her lower back. "It already feels so much better. Yes, I think this arrangement might keep me in the house if you aren't ready to tell on me."

"If I go to the authorities, they'll just throw me in jail for giving you my root and then begging for it," I say. "I did bring this on myself, didn't I?"

Mother stops and then laughs when it sinks in.

"Oh, yes, I should think I've cornered you into my trap. Oh, the many ways I will take advantage of you daughter as I turn you into my secret fountain of youth."

To put a cherry on top of my predicament, Mother takes her mobile and snaps a picture of me all seed covered.

"In case I need to motivate you in the future."

I wait until she turns around before I put another finger of her seed between my lips. Becka's experimental collar is keeping me pleasantly confused. I'll keep the neckband on another day.

#7

The first proof I receive that Miss Brushnique is more than a little infatuated with me comes next day in the form of a power-play to secure my commitment to her. The object which Tora places on our gameboard is a posy redhead who desperately wished to be blonde but found light-orange instead. She is terribly cute and just as much the Red Rose that teenage Josie fell in love with at summer camp years ago.

"Hello, sweet Margot," she says as she passes me in the grand hallway on her way by.

Before I can request an explanation, Tora is on me like a hungry hummingbird looking for another taste of my nectar.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" the Inquisitor asks, stepping between me and the object of my curiosity.

Tora is especially demanding in her appearance, dressed like she is with official shoulder pads inserted into her dark-blue uniform jacket. She wears a prominent black bow around the neck, as well as a pair of glasses that are Becka's in design without question. These spectacles say my new lady friend is clawing for my cooperation more recklessly than I had anticipated.

"What is she doing here?" I ask.

"Oh, I found it necessary to contact Josie's old friend a few days ago and let her know that your sister is cockerelle now. The girl may have run off to Mount Hush to live posy-to-posy, but within these walls is the allure of an eldest daughter wielding a root to make even the most devout lover of posies rethink their financial decisions."

"You little wolf," I say, running my fingers through her dirty mane, forcing the tightly trussed strands out of the hair loop that keeps them under strict confinement. I squeeze the handful I capture between my fingers. "What caused you to do such a thing to my Josie?"

Tora lifts her phone to show me the picture on its screen. There I am in bondage with mother's seed spattered all over my chest.

"I am valuable to you, don't you see?" she asks. "Wouldn't they all flee if this picture found its way onto the social-sphere of Legacy Hills?"

My grip loosens on her.

"I don't get your intentions, Miss Brushnique. I thought our pleasant times together would be enough to keep you friendly. What more do you expect from me?"

"Just a room," she says. "I tire of being alone in my rented suite the Guardians of Our Happy Deliverer have financed for my stay here in Haven's Slip. I don't wish you to abandon your family for Angelic Britsland as the sisterhood back home demands. I've told them I could bear your seedling here and carry her back with me to the sisters to satisfy them."

"My seedling? I'm no cockerelle, and your speech of taking one of my own away from me sounds terrifying if it were even possible."

"Not your kin exactly," she whispers. "And not your seedling. She would be your sire's seedling technically, and the daughter of your mother. She we be you born again within my womb."

"A clone of me? Are you mad?"

"I only wish to protect you, my sweet mystery. I would raise her here in this house with the insinuation of a promise to my financiers that the posy would come home with me when she came of age. This would placate them and keep them from doing something rash which might traumatize your lovely existence here in Haven's Slip."

"Rash? They cannot clone me if I do not wish it. The high sciences forbid it with a lot more than simple laws made by cockerelles written on paper or stored in some slab of silicon memory. These laws are written into the machines of creation itself which keep such copies of effigies from being made without permission of the original. Even then, she could never be an exact copy. That would bring down the wrath of the yeomen class."

"Dragon's Yeomen are a myth, pretty Miss Young. That such creatures ever existed cannot be proven."

"And why would I agree to give my daughter such a fate with you?"

"Don't you see? Your offspring would be under our protection."

"Your Guardians of Our Happy Deliverer are not people I know, trust, or love. Why would I do such a terrible thing to my own child?"

"No, I mean our protection, Margot, as in me and you and your clan here in Haven's Slip. The child would grow here among your family. If your sister's dynasty were to grow in power as Josie wishes, then your child would be protected from their games of kidnapping as the name of Sharp grows into something formidable. And having me as her womb mother would mean you had a direct contact through which to interact with those who are most interested in stealing your gift for themselves. You are the Toiler Incarnate, I believe with all of my heart. And sooner or later there will be forces across all of Heartseed who wish to make you the mother of all posies. This way at least you can delay and sculpt the future of your unique kind."

I shudder.

"Do not wilt," she says, taking my shoulders in her hands. "What you are is not your fault. Look at me as a defender of your gift. Keep me here close so that I may do what my heart has dreamed of doing ever since I was a child. I wish to be the mother of the Toiler Incarnate. I wish to keep her introduction into the world sacred."

"Otherwise, you'll tear my family apart?"

"Red Rose is just an example of the ways my sisterhood will come at you. Do you think the promotions rained down on your Maddie and Becka are mere coincidence? And why would Lulu Lerner ever show the least bit of interest in bringing a posy like your mother was into the secret circle of her research? These are the powers born long ago within Angelic Britsland, ancient powers who will work through the very fabric of reality if necessary to get what they want. Allow me to be your eyes and ears so you are not left out of your own future."

"They sent Red Rose to lure my sister away?"

"I do not wish to own you, Margot. I only wish to protect you and know you as I do now. I am living my dream, you see. I do not wish for any of this to be destroyed. I would give my life to protect you and protect my life here with you."

"How can I trust you won't betray me?"

"I cannot. However, you should know that your sister Maddie is returning today from her trip to Glasshouse as we speak. Lauren Lush has welcomed her to create a promotional packet to prove her ability to make her rising social star a sensation among all cockerelle."

"See me in the morning about a room here at the estate," I say. "We will see about this cloning business after you have settled in without upset to my sisters or mother. If all goes well, I will give you my consent. But there had better not be any more surprises until then."

Tora unfastens the large black bow tied around her collar and wraps it around my wrist and forearm until it resembles the longer portion of a fine dressing gauntlet reaching to my elbow where she finishes the weave.

"Amazing," I say, admiring the pattern of twists and turns her skilled hands have created with such rapid artistry.

"It is a reminder we Inquisitor learn to make when we go through our prep school years. They choose us when we are very young to fulfill this office. I have made thousands of practices at it, so do not think I am some kind of closet weaving fanatic or anything like it. It is to remind you of my oath to protect your seedling with my life should you make the decision to allow me to march forward toward my dream."

She then kisses her handiwork on one knee before leaving me to consider her offer.

#8

Maddie comes in to find me on her bed in a seductive pose.

"What are you doing there dressed like that?" she asks me putting her suitcase on the packing table. She's moving more of her clothes to the apartment leased in Glasshouse in her ongoing quest to win Lauren Lush as a client for her firm.

"I'm suggesting something dressed as I am, and I want you to hear me out," I say.

"I will not become your secret incest lover, Margot, if that's what you're thinking. Just because I've got the arts coursing through my blood, it doesn't make me some kind of sex freak."

"Secret incest lover?" I exclaim. "No, I'm talking about this Lauren Lush account you're so mad to get your hands on. I wish you would consider another option that might keep you around the house and not off making a new life far away from your family."

"What? You want to surrogate my seedling?" she asks.

"I want to be your new sex symbol account, Sis, and hear me out before you mock the idea too soon."

"You're not an up and coming social phenomenon, Margot. You're the cockerelle who wanted to be a posy so she could play out her weird sex fantasies."

"And you could go with that, couldn't you?" I say, hoping off the bed to snatch her arm in my hands to squeeze the consideration of the idea into her brain. "Imagine what you could do with my story if you had free reign? What a scandal I would be to take advantage of. And I would give you permission to do whatever you like to make me look the part of sultry posy to drain all that valuable saliva from the cockerelle elite's hungry mouths."

"All to keep me at Legacy Hills. Why am I so important to you now? We have a love of fashion in common, but you never come talk pretty things with me."

"I was a cockerelle. I figured you thought I was confused. Now I'm not. Now I'm a posy and my odd fashion passion makes complete sense to everyone. You could dress me and everything. We could design outfits together. You could take me out in that pretty dress you gave me and show me off."

"Selling my own sister as a sex symbol would be interesting. But selling a sister who wishes to keep her new posy identity anonymous would be a non-starter, wouldn't it?"

"No," I say, hopping up and down on my toes to infect her with the excitement of yet a better idea. "That's just it. I would remain anonymous at first. Put a disguise on me and make me out to be something hidden that needs unwrapping by the curious public. Do it slowly and with lots of disgraceful gossip. Work with my transition from cockerelle to posy. Make people believe that I could be your blood-kin sister. Make them worry that your own transition to cockerelle has come at my expense. Torture me with slanderous rumors. I could be a hundred times bigger than silly Lauren Lush."

Maddie stops as if she's had a stroke and is about to collapse right in front of me.

"I could put a mask on you. Something over the eyes to cover your identity. Then post pictures of us making out to really irritate the censors."

"And you know I'll remain hush about my identity. I do still want to keep my posy-change a secret thing for as long as possible."

"You would have to be willing to do some really shocking things with me," she says.

"Like what?"

"My root up your ass would prove your willingness to do whatever it takes to make a picture sell."

"Ouch," I say, covering my tush. "Ana are you sure you can keep a stiff one long enough to get it in me back there?"

"It would be business," she says. "I'm professional, and I could do it easy. I wouldn't take it to heart. It's the only way I would agree to show the idea to my bosses."

"Where do you work these days?" I ask.

"Filled to the Brim is the brand name of our client. You know, all those racy sex films the fetish-elite pay out the nose to be a part of. They love to have parties with their stars set out for sampling. An orgy circle if you get the meaning of my words. You'd be put through the wringer once in a while. Wouldn't want you to feel used and abused."

"Filled to the Brim," I say with a worried look in my eyes. "I'm assuming that it's my brim or brims that will be filled to."

"Overflowing actually. You see I knew you would chicken out when you got the full story. You'd be icky at least twice a month for a hours at a time to grow their interest in you. That's how you get on the triple-a list for ads and movies and other media opportunities that grow your personal brand."

I turn around to reveal the back of my panties aren't a back at all. It presents only a suggestion with its two pink ruffle straps that run down either buttock-side framing her target nicely in the middle.

"Well, let's start with that photo of you in my ass," I say. "Where should we set up?"

"I've already got my cameras ready to go," she says, hurrying me into the adjoining room where she does her personal photo shoots. There is a variety of video equipment installed discretely around the room to capture her clients from every possible angle just in case she misses a valuable shot. Thank the gods for AI that can review all of that footage to find such precious pieces.

She sets me up a bedroom bench in white and gold trim. It's classic in its design, like something a cockerelle nobella from the old days would have to make her posy feel fancy while she came up from behind to sink it in.

Maddie is out of her clothes and into costume in no time at all. She's back with a mask as well to cover my eyes. It's something one would see in a party owners of such furniture would have frequented in days long ago.

I put on the white porcelain mask with fancy curl designs around the eyes.

"I'll do something to cover up any body markings that might make you out to be my sister should our close friends ever get a hold of the images. This is just a practice shot to show my bosses."

My mask set where my eyes can see again, I spot her root hanging out already stiff as a poplar branch.

"What have you done to it?" I ask, looking at it for the first time.

"A few things to make it my own," she says. "We do have friends who might recognize the original model. I turned the downward curve you were born with into something less severe."

"I'm referring to the length, Sis. It's twice as long as it was on me, and half as much in girth. How did you manage that so quickly after receiving it?"

"I spoke with Becka and got one of her experimental products. Saved me a bundle on having to purchase such an expensive charm. They only work a few times before they burn out and cost as much as a small house. The risk was the only way I could justify going through with it financially strapped as I am. There was a slight chance the choker I wore to freak out the size of it might backfire and give me candy cane rings or something else not so attractive to photograph around its cylinder."

"I quake thinking what something like that might do to my insides. Is it safe?"

"Sis, it will be a bit of a stretch, sorry. But if you can't handle something of these proportions and a good bit larger, this whole offer you've made me will be off the table before we even begin. I'll lube it up. It will sting going in, but that will make the photos and video all the more authentic. If it slips into your hole like a good fitting shoe, it won't buy us any reaction value at all from my naturally skeptical audience."

"Why don't you add some studs to it then? Make me really feel it the first time? I've never had a root up my ass. Yours will be the first."