Pairs of Pumpkins #10: The Embrace of Disgrace 02

She leaned forward onto her elbows, watching his quaking eyes. "I'll tell you Jasper: there is nothing less attractive to me or any other woman worth entertaining, than an entitled little brat."

"I'm sorry, I..."

"Don't be sorry. Sorry doesn't change things. Stop doing it."

Jasper stared at his feet and sniffled and Portia sat back in her chair. Silence followed.

"You're right. Mother and Father. My adopted ones, I mean. They're these big, rich, powerful people. They didn't ever talk about any of that stuff. Worrying about what people think."

"That is not the same thing as being mindful of others."

"I guess it's not."

"I wouldn't have gotten very far at all if I cared what other people thought. Lady adventurer? Gigantic boobs? Sexually liberated? Now committing incest five to ten times a day? But I do care about the effect of my words and actions on others. And that's doubly important for you, young man. Whether you want to find a wife and settle down or sleep with every available female in town, you need to conduct yourself with honesty, grace and respect."

"No wonder nobody likes me."

"Well, the good news is you can change."

"Can you help me?"

She walked back to the bed and sat down heavily, throwing an arm around him. "Of course I can."

He lifted his muzzle to hers and she met it with a press of her finger. "No more whining. No more begging. And no more sex, if you do."

He nodded gently, averting his eyes. "Yes, mother."

She gave his head fur a playful ruffle. "Try harder to be irresistible. Practice on me. It'll pay off with other girls you meet." He leaned into her shoulder and she hugged him loosely.

"So I guess there's no version of this where I don't have to worry about other girls? Where you and I get married or whatever?"

He could feel her shake her head and laugh before he heard it. "That's not going to happen, for many reasons."

"Why not?"

"Besides the societal judgments of me being twice your age and the complete wrongness of being your mother? Because what's the point? I have no interest in monogamy and I have no desire to wrap up my life in religious or government commitments. I never wanted to have... well, you already know about that. Zarron told me I consented to give up my ability to have children and while I don't remember, I believe him."

"Yeah," he turned away.

"Do you want kids of your own?"

"I dunno. Maybe? I guess... yes?"

"Well, you've certainly put enough cum in me but I couldn't if I wanted to. And we shouldn't, even if we both did and could."

"Right. Our kits would be double-inbred, or whatever."

She laughed. "Or whatever. Maybe they'd be twice as psychic. I'm going to be back on the road, helping the rest of your brothers and sisters, just as soon as we can leave. You can join your family or live any life you desire, like you said you wanted to when you ran off with me but our future isn't you and I, as a happy couple. You should think about that, for after all this: if you really had it so bad or if you thought you deserved more."

She grinned and added: "Or if you just followed me because of my amazing tits and ass."

He nodded slowly and she pulled him in tightly but his arms stayed limp in his lap. "You'll always be my son. I will always love and protect you, and I can protect you better than most mothers. But you deserve... no, that's not the right word. You NEED someone who can be more than that for you. Time will tell if you deserve it."

"My sisters. They look like you, right?"

"More or less."

He finally adjusted himself, nestling into the nape of her neck. "Do you think one of them might want to be my wife someday?"

A laugh burst free of her muzzle.

"Gods, I hope not."

Month of Adonnamoon, Day 39. Resduk.

It had been over two full weeks of lockdown, with no signs of progress or a return to normal. Other than the regular rotation of hazard-suited town criers, one morning she'd found another flier stuck to the window. It was a woodblock print that had been mass-produced, but it was less professional-looking than the flier from the City Watch.

"THE PLAGUE WAS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT WAS MAGICALLY ENGINEERED TO TARGET THE POOR AND DESTITUTE. THEY WILL NOT STOP UNTIL THEY BURN HALF THE CITY TO THE GROUND, IN THE NAME OF SAFETY!"

No one had taken to the streets as a result and she'd all but forgotten about it within a day or two of it blowing away. She'd had other things on her mind, and not just sleeping with her son.

The complete release of Portia's inhibitions and that collision with Jasper's adolescent urges had raged out of control for days and the tension of the week before hadn't quelled it for long: it only brought forward that Jasper needed a positive role model more than he needed a mother who didn't have sex with her children.

There was no part of herself she had to fight to make that happen and she now considered it in their every exchange, even as they made love to sheer exhaustion or discomfort, again and again. Their fires were far from quenched but had been allowed to burn freely, long enough to allow for some return of rational thought, structure and restraint.

Her guilt had mostly passed. Waking up each morning to the fear of death and failure but finding comfort in her son's forbidden embrace, the familiar intimacy seemed more and more normal and the taboo's rationality had all but fallen apart. Her connection with Jasper was so strong and the only, obvious consequence was mutual pleasure.

The risks of inbreeding were understood and not every flaw of her children was as benign as a bad leg nor as useful as reading minds but Portia could not get pregnant. Even if she could, there was so much else that could be done to please each other.

Beyond the breeding risks, what was so wrong about incest? Why was it forbidden to have sex with the people who loved her the most? Why was hugging and kissing allowed between a mother and child but the culmination of affection, attraction and release was not? Why should a son not grope the breast he once suckled? What real reason was there, for a mother to not suck her son's cock when he needed relief?

How was it different from any other part of educating her children? How many cruel and sadistic warlords had perpetrated violence and hate because they weren't shown love when they were children? How many rough, greedy and selfish lovers had she met, whose own mothers could have taught them to be present for their partners during intimacy? Maybe society had it all backward and every mother should be fucking her sons?

It all seemed so absurd now, that all this had almost driven her mad for months and all she had to do was embrace it.

In the acceptance of her new reality, she was able to focus on how to conduct herself as a mother to him in more meaningful ways. How she could shape him to be a respectful and considerate young man that she would be proud to call her son, in a way that no royal court would see fit to do.

Portia had implemented some structure to their schedule, lest she lose her identity and purpose in a haze of consumption and abundance. There were so many daughters and sons to rescue and she was, for now, helpless to do so. Still, she needed to stay sharp and ready for the moment she could spring back into action.

Jasper's fitness regimen turned into a more serious commitment when she realized it was key to him learning discipline and for him, it became a matter of making her proud and fucking her longer and harder. After-workout sex was a reliable reward and he was hooked on the high of it. Often, he tried to beat his record in how long he could last until orgasm and how many times he could make his mother climax before he did.

The schedule was broken up into half-weekly intervals: four days of exercise, chores and work, the third of which would be the most intense, with the longest hours and no sex of any kind. He needed to learn self-control and she had the strength to say no for a day when she wasn't using all of her willpower to resist her urges, though she did masturbate in the water closet once, to keep disciplined.

The fifth day was for rest and recovery, light work and even more sex than the other days.

Such a regimented schedule was more reflective of Jasper's courtly life than her own of freewheeling adventure. At first, it made her stir crazy. In the absence of books or scrolls in the safehouse to read recreationally, Portia realized the full advantage of the time she had to form a plan, in the face of the herculean task of finding every one of her sons and daughters and rescuing them, if necessary. Jasper, it turned out, was able to help her work on a plan.

They had begun to draw on the floors and walls, all around the central goal of the optimized, long-term check-ins and rescues of her many hundreds of children. The process was divided into three elements:

Map: The game board.

Priority: The chess pieces.

Route: The strategy.

Written separately from those three was simply "After?" What would she do with the ones she saved while she rescued the next ones? Without more children in hand, it was the least important but she remembered what Varda had told her a few weeks before: they all but worshiped her in the town of Brummel, which she'd saved some years ago.

For the first phase of the plan, she would need a map, to plot an optimal route. Jasper was more of an artist than she was and so he made a drawing of the realm on the biggest stretch of floor that could go undisturbed. He used charcoal from the wood stove to draft, then she carved into the floorboards with a knife once she'd worked out the proportions and scale.

It took four days to finish the map and carve it into the floor, in between their now strict exercise routines, cooking, sleeping and most days, sex, five to ten times a day.

Even a perfectly optimal route could take years with so many children so the next step was to categorize them by a priority of 1 through 5, 5 the most urgent and 1 the least. The score was then added carefully to the ledger. The factors leading into the scoring were the child's age, the buyer's stated intention and coldly, the chances of still living at the same location where they were sold and how likely she was to find them there.

Sanna, her third oldest child in the book, merited a 1 which helped to calibrate the others. Sanna had been ordered by a reputable shipbuilder, Lord Truxton, as a "Daughter and Heiress" which already sounded safer than alternatives like "future wife" or "prostitute". She remembered the news early in her adventuring career, that Lord Truxton was killed by pirates and any trail that existed was gone. Whatever had become of Sanna, she could be anywhere if she were alive at all.

Anya was a perfect example of a 5. Bought to be a wife and weeks away at the time from being old enough to marry, her situation was dire and her remote location was less likely to have changed. There were a lot of 5s.

Zarron, while not a child of hers, warranted his own prioritization, which she'd written on the inside cover of the book: reluctantly, a 1.

After five rescues in three months without much of a plan, many distractions and one citywide lockdown, she was sure with an optimized and prioritized route, she could be checking in on and when needed, rescuing an average of one to four children per week.

Comparing that with the frequency of dates in the more recent pages of the ledger, she concluded she could find her children a lot faster than Zarron was making new ones. With no idea where the wizard was, who had teleported away from her and presumably, would again, revenge would have to wait. Possibly for quite some time.

For the pieces, Portia had dug into their food supply. A dried, red bean was a priority 4 or 5. A white bean was a 1 through 3. The beans were placed on the carved-in map, with the idea that when the entire ledger had been gone through, she could plan a route that visited the most of them, the fastest.

They skipped around in the ledger to keep it interesting, talking through a priority assignment then placing a bean on the map when it was decided and marking each entry with a small check mark when finished.

In the early afternoon, Jasper had retired to the bed, staring at the ceiling. She let him have the break, desperately wanting one herself but there was so much to do.

"Magdelena Mason. Age 17. Father: Gallagher Mason, Coyote," Portia sat on the floor with the book, reading aloud "Intention: daughter. Mother infertile. They own an inn off the highway, not far from Mudcrest. Sounds low risk to me."

"I'd give it a two. Low risk but that's a major route. You'll pass that way at some point. There's what, three of them in Mudcrest already?" Jasper rolled over on his side then and she noticed his tip was peaking out of his sheath. "Do you think a half-coyote sister is just as busty as you, Mom?"

Portia shrugged. "Close? It runs strong in the family. My mother was bustier than me. Marina is a half mink and they're built leaner than coyotes. She's petite but her chest is still huge by any standard. I'll put Magdelena down as a two." She placed a white bean near Mudcrest, next to two other, white ones. "Next is Cormac Mason. He's Magdelena's twin."

"Seems like a lot of twins and triplets started around then. It's kind of hot to think about, even if they are my sisters."

"All of his other details match Magdelena so let's call him also a two."

"Did you ever have a threesome with Anya or Marina?" His eyes grew before he laughed victoriously. "I swear I didn't read your mind. It was just there on your face. I'm so jealous."

Portia huffed and scowled, placing the bean for Magdelena. She looked back to Jasper as his eyes opened wide still. "What's the rule, Jasper? No mind reading."

"You went down on each other while the baker guy fucked you both?! That's so hot! I want to do that."

She looked at him sternly but his excitement was relentless.

"You think he's fucking her without you there?"

"Likely."

"Do you think you're going to fuck Cormac?"

"Jasper..."

"Mom, I'm serious," he said, propping his head up on his elbow. "We both know it's not just me or Joseph. This isn't going away and there's a whole lot of dicks in that book."

"Jasper!"

He sat up, halfway to erect now. "Be honest. Sure, it'd be cool if you were in love with me and wanted to get married, but I get it. You're a woman with needs and those needs can only be tended by your handsome, big-dicked children." He scooped up a dollop of fat from a well-used, bedside jar then slid off the bed to crawl towards her on all fours until he sat by her side, nipping at her back. "I think you should fuck every last one of us. We all deserve to know our mother's loving embrace."

"Most of the boys in this book are too young, sons or otherwise."

"Is that what's going to stop you?" he grinned. "You know, at first I was a little hurt that you weren't attracted to anything about ME but because I'm your son. But the more I think about it, it's hot to think about you having sex with all my brothers. ALL of them. We should rate them based on who else you can fuck!"

"Jasper..."

"My mom, Portia Pridemoon's Grand, Incest Tour. So many boys, so little time." he was grinning broadly as he scooted up against her. "We'll have to rank them on how old they are, how hung they are and how good we think they are in bed. Make sure they're of appropriate age but catch them before they get married. I doubt that'll stop them but you don't want to be a homewrecker too."

"I'm not mind reading but I've got a fox's nose, like yours. I can smell that you're wet again. You're thinking about it too. You've only had two of our dicks. There are so many more." He flipped the book back several pages. "Where was that first, half Clydesdale Zarron made?" He stopped and pointed into the book.

"Brario." She gestured to one of the beans, far south on the map.

"Can you imagine how big his cock is? Let's go there. Gods, I'd love to see him fuck your ass with that giant, horse dick." He climbed on her back then, keeping his head over her shoulder. Between them, his finger was at her asshole, pressing in small circles, as she taught him to do after an early, uncomfortable incident. He was skilled at it now after listening and learning, and anal sex with him had become delightful.

"Jasper, we need to focus."

"We need a break." Her breath betrayed her distraction. She hadn't been focused for a while. "There," he tapped a page. "Lucius. My oldest brother."

"Second oldest. Allister is the oldest."

"Right, Allister was where? Stambury?" He was repositioning himself.

"That's right."

"I want you to close your eyes and imagine this is Allister," he said, pressing his sheath-slickened cock against her asshole, hips firm until he entered her.

She closed her eyes and exhaled, long and slow. It was impossible to not take his suggestion as he eased into her ass, inch after inch. He was holding back some of it. Of course she was going to have sex with more of her children.

"Imagine this is Allister's hand," he said, slipping his down to the outer curve of her breast. "Tell me to fuck you."

"Fuck me..."

"No, call me Allister. Think about fucking Allister."

"Fuck me, Allister."

He began to saw his cock back and forth, in and out of her. "Gods that's so hot! You've never even met this guy but you want to fuck him because he's your kid. Now imagine it's Lucius, your half-horse son!"

He changed his pace immediately, hips galloping on her back, slamming himself to the hilt each time. She leaned forward until she was resting on her cheek on the floor, her hand beneath her touching herself.

"Fuck me, Lucius."

He threw back his head with an excited laugh then turned the page."These two: Aaron and Aiden. They're twins. Are you going to fuck them at the same time?"

"Definitely." The ideas were driving her wild and it was only all the more encouragement to Jasper. His hand dove between her legs past hers, pushing fingers inside her sex to the knuckle.

His pace changed again. Less rhythmic. Harder. "Ooooh, two dicks at once! And Aaron and Aiden are kind of rough! You want all of us, don't you?"

"Yeah," she nodded off-tempo from the rhythm of Jasper's hips.

"You're going to fuck us all, aren't you?"

"I might."

"You should. Every fucking one of us."

They were both moving faster and louder, worked up at the thought of her vast potential for incest.

"This makes being an inbred feel not so bad, though it'd be better if you and Bjorn actually had sex."

Rocking roughly under her son, it was getting harder to talk the closer she came but some thoughts thankfully managed to still be outrageous and disgusting. "Jasper!"

He was undeterred with a devilish grin, his speaking more staccato while he fucked her as hard as he could. It had only been two weeks of intense exercise but she was sure it was harder than he could before. "You've got what, four brothers? I'm dying to know if it works with them too. You can't get pregnant so who cares?"

His sick words were almost enough of a turnoff to stop her from cumming. Almost. She responded with a sucking groan of strain and pleasure, fingering herself furiously with her face pressed to the floor. Jasper was over her in his desperate, final thrusts. His hands grabbed her hips to pull against her and wedge his swelling knot past her asshole just before he howled out in delight.

The hot flood of his orgasm erupted deep in her straightened-out guts and he held himself there with triumphant groans, pumping more and more of their familial seed inside her.

Finally, he collapsed on top of her, panting and groaning, gently caressing with wandering fingers. ""I love you, Mom."