Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 061

Hi all! I am (finally) back with the next chapter of HFHM!

First off, sorry for the delay. My writing/editing schedule has gotten destroyed in the last month, and I am actually submitting this from my table during breakfast while the rest of the Hawthornes eat pancakes. I try really hard to keep to the schedule in my Bio, but I will change it if I'm going to be late like this time.

Anyway, new reader? Welcome! While technically the fifth book in the HFHM series, this chapter is written as a bit of an intro to my world. However, there is plenty of sex, mayhem, and plot in the previous sixty chapters, so give them a peek!

Returning reader? Welcome back! Thank you so much for all the love you showed for the finale of Book Four. I'm not sure how I can top that performance, but here's to giving it my best effort. Book Five is going to have its share of surprises, and I can't wait to share them with you!

Don't forget to rate and comment when you're done! This helps other readers find the story, and is an excellent (and free!) way to support your favorite authors here on Lit. Thanks again to Literotica itself for giving me a platform to share this story with you, and TJ Skywind for being that final set of eyes. I think it's his superpower.

So enough from me. Winter is on it's way out as the Radley Home prepares for...

Springtime

Mike Radley yawned, then stretched his arms, causing his left shoulder to pop egregiously. Opening his eyes, he realized that he had drifted off to sleep. It had been a long night chasing a swarm of scarab beetles out of his house and he had apparently drifted off sometime after breakfast.

The scarabs themselves were the result of an empty tomb that was discovered on the other side of his otherwise empty basement. Originally thought to be a crack in the foundation, everyone had been surprised to discover that the crack in the otherwise smooth concrete led somewhere else. Once Tink the goblin had declared the wall to be non-load bearing, Abella had been brought in to knock it down with a single punch. The gargoyle had been happy to help, but not so much when a colony of scarabs fled the room and crawled across her stony flesh. Despite being impervious to their clicking jaws, Abella had squealed and nearly taken everyone out with her wings in her hurry to brush them off.

"How long was I out?" he asked. His head was currently in the lap of the home's resident banshee, Cecilia. The pupils of her eyes were white like pearls, and though she was blind to the visible spectrum as he understood it, she was capable of seeing souls and spiritual energy. Able to see the souls of the scarabs, she had been a huge asset tracking them down. Each time the colony attempted to set up a new nest, Tink would punch a hole in the wall with a hammer while everyone pitched in to catch them in some cloth sacks that Tink had once used to make her clothes out of.

"Perhaps an hour." Her voice had a soft, Irish lilt to it, and her white hair floated about her as if she was suspended under water. Like her eyes, her hair was a startling white color, save for a thick lock of red just over her right eye. "You needed it."

"I suppose." He sat up and groaned, his back tensing up. He had only meant to sit for a few minutes, and his body protested being prone on the bench for so long. He yawned again, then gave the banshee a peck on the lips. A chill ran through his body. "I didn't miss it, did I?"

Cecilia smiled. "You wouldn't hear the end of it if you did. There's plenty of time, Sofia is getting lunch ready if you want to help."

"I'll see what I can do." When he stood from the swing, she floated up to join him. Caressing his cheeks with her hands, she winked and then vanished from sight. With the banshee gone, he felt a bit warmer already.

Out in the front yard, a small cluster of centaurs moved about, trimming away the last branches of winter. It was the middle of March, and they were getting ready for the Spring Equinox celebration, which Naia had promised him would be a sight to behold.

When he had first moved into the home nearly nine months earlier, the front yard had been just a small sidewalk that traversed what couldn't have been more than thirty feet of grass. Now though, it was home to an illustrious garden maze, at the center of which stood a magnificent sundial that had been recently polished. The giant bushes of the home had been trimmed into topiary figures by the centaurs, and already this month, he had chased away a few randoms who had wandered into his yard to take pictures.

The Radley estate hadn't always been so popular, but magical homes had a way of gathering attention, both good and bad. Chasing off people who wanted to take pictures of the bushes was far preferable to the literal battles he had fought in the yard with monsters and witches alike. It had been almost six months since the last incident—which was the current record.

A pale figure wandered out from the maze and held up a hand in greeting. It was Sulyvahn the dullahan, who was also Ceclia's twin.

"Yer lookin' well rested, me lord." Sulyvahn was holding a small bucket full of clipped flowers that had yet to bloom in one hand and a pair of shears. While the centaurs maintained the rest of the gardens, the dullahan had somehow become in charge of the flowers themselves.

Mike nodded. "You didn't see any of those beetles out here, did you?"

"That I haven't." Sulyvahn pulled one of the flowers from his bucket and eyed it with suspicion, then gave it a shake. A tiny green light fell out of it and bounced off the ground. It looked like a tiny devil, and it stood up and chittered at Sulyvahn angrily.

"What is it?" asked Mike.

"Just a pest." Sulyvahn gave the creature a hard flick with his finger, and it vanished in a puff of smoke. "Now that spring is almost here, we be seeing a bit more of them. They're creatures from my world, no idea why they atall they be showin' up."

"Hmm." Mike made a mental note to bring it up next time he saw Titania, the queen of the fae. He had only seen her twice since November, and both times had been brief. The queen never came to the real world, but visited his mind while sleeping. It was a strange arrangement, but it allowed her a short respite from the faerie court. "Should we be worried?"

"Nah. Little buggers are like locusts, they'll just start eatin' everything. I'll get the centaurs to spray some of that silvered water to get them out."

"You do that." Mike waved in parting and walked inside the house.

The smell of freshly baked goods tickled his nose, and he walked across his living room and into the dining hall. It was the biggest room in the house, currently, able to sit everyone comfortably. Tink had custom-made chairs for everyone to accommodate their unique body shapes. Currently, the doll Jenny was sitting on a small wooden chair across from a large rat that wore a crown on his head and plastic glasses that looked like they had been taken off of a Mr. Potato Head.

Jenny's face was the placid smile of a thrift shop horror, but Reggie the rat king wore an expression of doubt. Mike paused to see what they were looking at, and realized that the two of them were playing Battleship.

"Problem?" he asked.

"I am fairly certain she is cheating," Reggie said. The empty plates on the table rattled threateningly, but Reggie had long ago stopped letting the haunted doll intimidate him. The rat king and Jenny, once enemies, had apparently worked past many of their differences, and it said quite a lot about their relationship that Jenny didn't actually attempt to hurt him. "I have yet to figure out how."

"Hmm." From where he stood, Mike had a great view of Jenny's board. She had snapped the boats into pieces and scattered them about. As far as he knew, the rules didn't explicitly state that was forbidden, which would probably be argued about later. It wouldn't be the first banned game in the house as a result of rule-breaking. "Well, good luck."

"Thank you," Reggie said, and Mike continued into the kitchen.

The smell of baked goods reached him well in advance, and he entered in time to see a feminine figure with a very shapely ass bent over in front of the oven. He paused to admire the view, then kept moving when Sofia stood holding a muffin pan.

"Cornbread?" he asked. He saw that the counters had been covered in different baked goods, such as pies and cakes. "Seems a little basic."

The cyclops turned to regard him with a long stare. She stood well over a foot taller than him, but he feared her tongue more than her physical presence. Though she could be sweet when the two of them were alone, she typically chose to berate him over little things. It didn't bother him anymore, because he knew for a fact that it just played into her kink.

"I thought it would be nice to offer something that wasn't so sweet." She lifted the door of the oven with her foot, which caused it to slam with a metallic bang. The kitchen itself had expanded toward the end of February, but nobody knew why. This had allowed Mike to purchase a much larger fridge and redecorate the place so that it looked almost like a kitchen in a high-end restaurant. Sofia had appreciated the extra room to cook, and had spent a good chunk of the winter prepping meals that tasted like they had been cooked by professional chefs.

"Sounds like a great idea," he offered. "I love cornbread."

She huffed at him, and then moved the pan over to cool. "Aren't you supposed to be helping somewhere?"

"Yep." This was an outright lie, but it would get him out of the kitchen without further discussion. He snapped up a small pastry from the edge of the counter on his way out, then dashed out of the kitchen when she opened her mouth to yell.

When he passed the dining room table, Reggie's arms were crossed in anger, his whiskers twitching. A pair of forks hovered threateningly over his head.

"The rulebook does not have to explicitly state that you can't break the pieces," he declared in anger. A small rat squad that Mike hadn't noticed before huddled nearby, clearly fearful for their king. Reggie squinted beady eyes at Jenny, who stood defiantly with her hands on her hips. "In the instructions, it clearly stated that you were to place your ships fully on the board. By breaking your pieces, they are no longer ships, and that means you are unable to even start the game!"

A heavy pitcher lifted in the air, but Mike grabbed it as he walked by. "He's got you there, Jenny." He set the pitcher down at the other end of the table. "Jenny, if you mess up the table settings, you'll piss off Sofia."

The forks immediately dropped out of the air and clattered on the table. Though lacking a mouth, Jenny was able to blow a loud raspberry before hopping down from the table and running into the living room. Reggie just shook his head as he put the forks back where they belonged.

"Thank you," he said. "I was afraid that we were about to have another Clue incident."

Mike shivered, then shook his head vehemently. "We don't talk about the Clue incident," he reminded the rat king.

Reggie snorted, and Mike left. Not having a destination, he decided to head out back to see how preparations were progressing for the equinox.

His backyard was so large that it rivaled the front, and was now easily half the total land his home sat on. A large fountain sat in the middle of the garden, and the massive oak tree behind it dominated the view. Just past the tree was a gentle slope that terminated at a stone wall with a large, wrought-iron gate. Beyond the gate, the occasional howl of a demon could be heard, but as long as it remained locked up tight, Mike wasn't worried about another invasion from the Underworld.

That, and Cerberus was always watching. The three-headed demon dog was loyal to Mike now, and they sat on the other side, always watching for trouble. Tethered to the Underworld by dimensional chains, they couldn't come more than a hundred feet into the backyard before reaching the end of their tether. He felt bad that Cerberus could never properly join the household, but it was probably for the best.

A few centaurs milled around a device that looked like a cross between a snail shell and a water tower. Tink had built the thing over the last two weeks, and was inspecting a large cistern that she had attached to the base, which consisted of long lengths of pipe that went beneath the ground and around the home to the front yard.

"How's it going?" Mike asked when he walked up. He took a bite of the pastry and almost groaned in delight when the buttery texture traveled through his entire mouth. There was a hint of some kind of berry, but he couldn't quite tell what. It was somewhere between raspberry and blueberry, which made him wonder if it wasn't both.

"Tink find small problem, fix with hammer." The goblin indicated a broken pipe made of PVC that sat off to the side. Mike's best guess was that she had smashed it with the hammer and replaced it.

"So you think it will work?" He had thought the idea of a sprinkler system was a good one, but implementing it was a bit of a problem. The water in the home was fed to it by a spring buried deep beneath, which meant there was no easy way to hook anything up without potentially disrupting the spring itself.

"Husband look here." Tink pointed near the bottom of the cistern, and when Mike bent down for a closer look, she snatched the rest of the pastry from his hand and stuffed it in her mouth.

"Hey, that was mine!" He crouched down so that he was eye level with the goblin. She wore a work apron and had dirt smudged all along the green skin of her arms and legs. Her reddish hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, revealing the short yellow horns on her forehead. When he had first met the goblin, she had stolen his tools. A fight had ensued, which turned into sex, which now meant they were married—according to goblin law, anyway.

He wouldn't trade her for anything in the world.

"Husband pay for doubting Tink," she informed him with a condescending pat on the cheek. Her mouth was still full of pastry as she spoke.

"She's got you there, lover." The water in the fountain swirled into a frenzy and the nymph Naia appeared. A statuesque beauty, her blue and green hair rippled behind her as if she stood in a breeze. Her feet were translucent, her body made of the very water she stood in. "But yes, we tested it this morning. It should work."

"I guess that leaves the star of the show." Mike looked past Naia at the oak tree. "Where is Amymone?"

Naia pointed upward with her finger and rolled her eyes.

"Again?" He looked up into the thick branches of the tree and was just able to make out a figure through the mostly bare branches. The dryad was huddled up against the trunk on one of the higher branches, a book clutched tightly in her hands.

"Apparently this one is a good read," Naia explained. "We were making too much noise, so she went up there for some peace and quiet."

He nodded. Once properly hooked by a story, it was nearly impossible to get the dryad's attention. He could climb the tree and try to convince her to come down, but nobody seemed to be in a hurry to start the festivities.

Tink spent the next thirty minutes showing him the sprinkler system she had built. The way it worked was that Naia would summon a giant surge of water from her spring and force it into the cistern, which would activate the sprinkler system properly. Apparently whatever Amymone had planned for the equinox was going to require a lot of water.

Up on the rooftop, he saw a dark figure wave to get his attention. He squinted his eyes to see who it was, and managed to make out the large stony wings of Abella the gargoyle. She was pointing at the front yard, but because she was backlit by the sun, he couldn't make anything else out.

He left Tink behind and went through the house. Jenny and Reggie had their faces pressed against the glass. Behind them, Death stood with a hot cup of tea in one hand and a small saucer in the other.

"What's going on?" he asked the grim reaper.

"I am not sure, Mike Radley." Death took a sip of his tea, the hot liquid vanishing in the darkness. Mike was grateful that it went somewhere other than his floor, but he had no idea where that would be. "This man has been standing there for several minutes now. Perhaps he is lost? If so, he is free to use one of my maps if needed, but I must insist he return it."

Frowning, Mike opened the door and stepped outside. Standing at the edge of his yard was an older man in a white sweater vest holding a newspaper under his arms. He wore silver spectacles, and his mouth was hanging open as he gazed up at the house.

Mike looked around the yard, and saw that the centaurs were still working, but a couple of them had grabbed their bows. Over by the far wall, a large creature that vaguely resembled a dragon lifted its head and snorted. The Jabberwock had been rebuilt after the incident with the shadow on Halloween, but was now trained to obey voice commands from Mike. It was hard to say what the stranger might be seeing, because the geas had a way of keeping anyone from seeing the fantastical creatures in his front yard. The effect used to only apply to creatures inside the home, but as the home grew, so did the geas.

"Can I help you?" Mike kept his distance.

The man hadn't stepped into his yard yet, which meant the geas would protect him from a magical assault. Even if the stranger walked in and tried to cast a spell, the lion statues that stood above them would drop down and crush him to a pulp. Really, his main concern was any sort of physical assault, and Mike's danger sense (courtesy of Naia) would warn him of impending harm.

"The end is near," the visitor said with a raspy voice, then lowered his gaze. His eyes were cloudy, like partially cooked egg whites, and his hanging mouth barely moved. The voice Mike heard was ethereal in nature, like someone speaking through a large tube. "Prepare yourself for judgment, child of—"

As if he was suddenly disconnected, the man lurched forward and his pupils appeared. When his jaw shut, his teeth clacked together, causing him to wince and rub at his cheek. His dark brown eyes focused on Mike, and a scowl formed.

"Are you the new homeowner?" he asked. It was as if the past few seconds hadn't occurred. Mike scanned the street, convinced that the threat was still out there, that this stranger was little more than a decoy.

"Excuse me!" The man stepped onto Mike's property, but still maintained his distance. Though the ominous voice was gone, his body language was now aggressive. If not for the fact that he looked like a disgruntled professor who most likely battled heartburn on a full-time basis, Mike would have felt more intimidated. "Are you the new homeowner?"

"I am." Mike had learned long ago that the less he said, the faster conversations would end. It had been a survival skill for years, due to his social anxiety, but now he had better things to do than piss around with some lame-ass Mr. Rogers knockoff.

"My name is Murray, I live next door." Murray stuck his thumb out to the right, looking briefly like a hitchhiker. "I don't want to be that guy, but you and I have a problem."

"We do?" Still worried that a threat was imminent, Mike crossed his arms and begrudgingly gave Murray his full attention.

"Yes, we do, Mr...?"

"Radley. Mike Radley." Mike didn't bother offering his hand.

"Michael. While I appreciate all the work you've done to improve the grounds, I'm afraid I must insist on expressing my outrage over all of the noise you keep making." Murray's cheeks were now red, and his hands had balled into fists. It was clear he was working himself up.