Pairs of Pumpkins Ssn. 01 Ep. 01: Family Ties Pt. 03

This story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

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Warning and Disclaimer: The following story includes depiction of a physical and sexual relationship between an older, anthropomorphic fox woman and a younger, anthropomorphic fox man but all characters described are physically mature and 18 years or older. The story is told from the limited perspective of the older woman and reflects her exacerbated perception of their age difference.

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Portia's voice of reason finally climbed out of a deep hole that desire had dug, scalding her recklessness and irresponsibility. A long developed confidence and pride in herself had helped her to grow past the feelings of shame and guilt she'd known so well as a child but this moment was an impossible thing to rationalize, not for some prudish judgement but as a tactical mistake. An unconscious brute of a horse lay on the floor, a wizard upstairs made unnatural children with magic and she was downstairs with one of them tied inside her by a grapefruit-sized knot when she should have been doing her job. This was something worth regretting, she admitted in the stillness of the moment but her body wouldn't yet return total control after a relentless barrage of orgasms like she'd never experienced. Reckless or not, the sex had been paradigm-shifting. Her nerves buzzed like she was hit by lightning and her blood raced with unparalleled excitement. Hopefully the young man could be convinced to come with her, when all this was done. He wouldn't be much good on the road but he would make up for that at camp every night and probably most mornings too. It was an unusual thing for her to consider bringing along a liability just for the sex when she'd have no trouble finding a lover in the next town but the next town wouldn't have someone like this.

He's a kid!

A deflated hiss escaped her muzzle and she recalled the handful of moments which had any competition for this new low. He wasn't too young to be doing this, just too young to have done it with her. Her conscience found that easier to reconcile than the act of endangering her own life and possibly others for her lust but the attraction had been so intense and overwhelming. And then she heard something else. Laughing?

"Now this... This is precious."

They were no longer alone and the vixen adventuress tensed with a surge of adrenaline. Who said that? Who was with them? Her entire vision was obscured by her golden brown hair, pulled loose from her ponytail by the teenager who had so eagerly sodomized her.

Hastily, she brushed her hair from her eyes and pushed up on her rug burned arm, revealing a matching scrape on her cheek from the hardwood floor. Her instinct to jump to her feet were tempered by the entire weight of the young man on her back and the attempt to move made her wince, reminding how deep inside her he was.

The room was no longer empty. They were joined at some point while she was lost in bliss and at the base of the stairwell stood three figures: an aged raccoon in billowy, pink robes, flanked by what must be Joseph's sisters: two uncannily familiar, vulpine shapes with sharp-ears and impossibly abundant busts. All three watched Portia and Joseph with disbelief but only the man was laughing.

The most eye-catching of the three must have been spotted from the road and triggered this whole chain of events. It was obvious enough at a glance why she stood out. A lovely fox with sky-blue eyes and a bob of reddish-orange hair, the rest of her visible fur very much matching the vixen adventuress'. As reported, she was impossibly huge in the size of her breasts, unlike anything she had ever seen since her childhood. This girl was as endowed as Portia's own mother, the only woman she knew previously to be bustier than herself. For her own remarkable bust, Portia had been diluted by her late father's outsider blood and was much smaller than her mother, whom she had otherwise inherited most of her appearance from. This teenage girl had not been so lucky and the sight of her recalled every burden of her own chest amplified. It made her recall every misconception people had about her: how could she run or even fully move her arms? How was her back supporting all that weight?

The remarkable vixen's ivory body fur was unusually long and thick, similar to dog breeds she'd met in other, colder climates and it only added to her already bulky visage. She wore a purple, silk robe that would reach the ankles of another woman her height but mid-thigh on her thanks to her gigantic chest in near defiance of gravity, yet still down past her waist and double the width as her torso. It would take the full length of one of her forearms again, for her hands to ever meet around them at their widest dimension. They must have been nearly half of her weight but somehow she could keep herself upright.

The second vixen stood, uncannier still. Her hair was midnight black, wavey and unkept as if it were usually restrained during the daylight hours. Except for the hair and her trembling, azure eyes, she was a near-mirror image of Portia some twenty years before, from the charcoal-colored sock pattern on her forearms and calves to the freckles down her cheeks and neck, down to a sizable chest that was a more pert version of her own. Only the ivory parts of her fur differed by a few, subtle shades. She wore a long, red nightshirt, looking fresh from sleep.

Between them, the pink-robed raccoon stood with slouched posture and a delighted, scoundrel's grin. Far shorter than either of girls, the signature colors of his species had aged into a lighter gray and darker one. His triangular face was accented at three corners by scraggly whiskers and a sharp, long goatee which he stroked as he started to speak. "Nice to see you and your magnificent breasts again, Portia Vasiljev. After all these years."

Her jaw dropped. Her blood froze. How did he know? She had never told anyone since she'd run away.

"Portia?" Joseph said with some surprise, failing entirely to read the situation. "You're Portia? I've heard of you on our travels. People said my sister..."

"Not now, Joseph," the vixen snapped out of it and sternly scolded over her shoulder, only to wince as his shrinking posture tugged at her insides with that hard ball at the base of his cock because he had knotted her, just as she should have expected. She froze for a long moment before deflating with a long, soft sign.

Idiot.

"Do I know you?" Portia scowled with a flare of her nostrils. She needed to buy as much time as possible and this entire situation was only getting weirder.

"Is that her, Zarron?!"

After two decades of adventure, the vixen could read a group at a glance and of the three, it was the black-haired fox who glared like she wanted blood. She stepped forward with a snarl and fiery eyes but the raccoon swung a hand up with an audible crinkle of his robe and dragged his fingers over her eyes.

"Sleep."

The wizard commanded and the girl's body obeyed, falling limp only to be caught and held up by him, the raccoon clearly struggling with her weight. "Help?" he turned to the massive-chested redhead and she did her best to awkwardly oblige around her impairment, trying to keep a grip long enough to ease the other vixen to the ground. With her still hunched over her apparent sister, the raccoon reached down to her face and repeated: "Sleep." Already hunched low, she fell safely forward into the soft bosom of her unconscious doppleganger.

"There," he said, bringing himself upright over the pair of sleeping vixens. "Time for the adults to talk," he looked back to her with a song in his voice. 'You can call me... Zarron," he declared, as if that was a name she might already know.

"I figured you were Zarron," Portia hissed back. "I asked if I know you."

The raccoon's smug smile widened. "No Princess Vasiljev, you wouldn't remember me but we met the night you ran away from Snowcourt."

"I think I would remember that."

"I think you wouldn't. I made sure you wouldn't. But I harbored you for a short time. I helped you. I helped you escape and I helped relieve you of your great burden."

"My burden?"

"The burden of your fate as Princess and eventually, Queen: to carry on your family's legacy. To breed the next generation of royal oppressors."

"You're going to have to explain a little better."

"Your burden to bear more of your incredibly potent bloodline." She gave an irritated, expectant shrug. "Your eggs, Princess: I took them." He paused and his smile melted for a moment. "Non-invasively, I assure you," he added quickly

"You took... my eggs?" The story she had fellated Joseph for churned through her mind with too many gears spinning to make sense of it all immediately. He could not create life; only incubate it. Dread loomed around her as possible conclusions began to form. "I don't menstruate. I'm barren and I've always been."

"Maybe you remember wishing as a teen to never, ever have children? Wishing so intensely to the universe for your independence that it piqued the attention of parties who could... help."

His casual exposure of her royal lineage to the room had an effect that she was usually better at hiding. It made him visibly bolder. "I seem to recall your responsibility to breed the next batch of Kings and Queens had a lot to do with your running away. You said it with such resolve that I suspect you never changed your mind about having children?"

"I did not."

"And I was happy to oblige your wish! You're lucky I was the one to find you and help. Usually these kinds of deals don't have such mutually beneficial consequences."

"I'm barren. Always have been." Only afterwards did she realize she'd already said that.

"You're barren because I made you that way, Princess. And to make sure it never came back to bother either of us, I wiped your mind of all related memories. You're a curious girl and we both know you'd go chasing any mysteries so I made sure there was nothing to chase. I am a life wizard and contrary to religious superstitions about the soul, life magic can also include domain over the mind. It was trivial to pluck away your memories compared to the other marvels I've achieved."

She trembled, unsure how to react. There was power in her secrets. How did he know them all?

"The night you ran away, Princess: how do you remember it?" Portia couldn't help but recall at his suggestion, the plan she formed for months from a desire she had for years. He was right about her wish: she strongly rejected the idea of being a mother as much as being a Queen in her fierce need for independence and that had barely tempered in the many years since. Her escape was only weeks before her eighteenth birthday, upon when an arranged marriage would happen and after which offspring would soon be expected. At the culmination of an elaborate escape plan, she stole herself away in the night to seek a life of freedom and adventure.

She remembered preparing and packing in a way which had confirmed to herself she had a mind for strategy that would be wasted on courtly life, at least as she had understood back then. She had studied the shifts and patterns of the City's Nightwatch, so she would be able to slip through the gaps. She had prepared a month's worth of provisions, all the gear it would take to survive the Pale Lands eternal winter and smeltable gold enough to buy herself passage on a ship to the mainland and more.

She recalled climbing over the fortress walls on a rope made from linens and traversing the snowy forests alone in the long night. She remembered the ship. There were gaps. The forest to the ship. Where had she caught the ship from?

There were only three major ports into the natural fortress of The Pale Lands and two of them were near the capital city. Criulezia was the closest but it was purely a Naval Port. Obrenova was further but it had commercial ships and would be much easier to buy passage off the island from. Samyi, in the south where she'd arrived from, was the biggest harbor of the Queendom but too far from Snowcourt to be an escape option: the entire country would have mobilized to find her before she could've gotten there.

Which one had she escaped from? Criulezia or Obrenova? She couldn't remember a thing from either one of the seaside cities.

The vixen failed to hide her confusion and Zarron grinned wider still. "You're a real hero these days, Portia Pridemoon." He knew her adopted name. "I know I should be wary of you but you didn't always warrant such renown for your tenacity and skill! Certainly not when you were seventeen years old. Smart and clever, to be sure but not enough to evade the entire Kingdom's worth of scouts and trackers your parents sent to find you!" the raccoon raised his voice with a bellowing laugh. "I hid you right here, in this very house. I put you on that ship in Samyi and made sure the crew wouldn't lay a hand on you. I'm the reason you ever broke free of the life you hated so much, Portia. All it cost you was something you never wanted anyway!" The raccoon stepped over the sleeping vixens, slowly approaching the vixen and her young lover. "All that for some eggs? Surely there are fertile women who would give them up for a lot less trouble."

"Your eggs, Portia! Your bloodline! There's so much more than any of you remember. All those huge chests and cocks in Snowcourt, wrapped up in ridiculous clothes to hide your shame. Do you see girls like you anywhere else in this land, with your giant, pumpkin breasts that the boys must love so much?"

"Northern girls..."

"Royal Northern Girls, Portia! You've been around long enough to know you're special. And I imagine it's been long enough away from home to forget that it's not just you. You Vasiljevs are premium stock! Brains, beauty, breasts, blood. I suspected there was something exceptional there that would be receptive to my magic and was I ever right!" "Now I breed some of the most magnificent children the world has ever seen. The splendor of one like my beautiful bride-to-be, Evangeline here," he gestured to the unconscious, black-haired teenager. "Your firstborn daughter, Princess Evangeline."

Portia's mouth hung open but that wasn't why it was so dry. Her stomach sunk and threatened to fall against the teenage erection not far below it. Evangeline appeared nearly identical to her. Everything was caving in. If he spoke the truth, he had saved her. Her claws dug into the hardwood floor. She wished they were in his throat.

"Or, with a bit of in vitro magic, your second daughter and my apprentice, Anastasia here," The raccoon motioned back to the crumpled up redhead resting atop Evangeline, before he turned his attention back to Portia. He raised his cupped hand to his muzzle in a mock whisper. "It was the first time I tried manipulating the fertilized egg and I made some miscalculations." He shrugged with self-satisfied mischief and took another step towards them. Joseph was frozen and silent, barely more than a backpack full of rocks except for his vulpine cock locked deep inside her, his knot unrelenting despite the unraveling of the moment. "I haven't counted the ledger in years so I don't know exactly how many I've made since these two. Numbers have never been my main concern but we're well into the hundreds. Maybe over a thousand? There have been a lot. Boys and girls, twins, triplets, quadruplets and more. Foxes and hybrids alike. Vasiljev blood and my alterations command prices you wouldn't believe to people who can't have kits of their own. Every infertile, mixed species or same sex couple with money? I offer them the best children money can buy.

"Whether completely natural like Evangeline or modified, like Anastasia, your bloodline never fails to impress. Even with a simple houseboy that I made just to maintain the manor, like Joseph there."

Portia shivered. Her sweat turned to ice under her fur, despite the heat of the room. The blood of her extremities was trying desperately to flee in terror from what he was about to say. Her Stomach turned end over end and her head contracted back into her neck, ready to gag and the inevitable declaration. Her tail tried to tuck between her legs but was pinned against her back by the teenager she was mounted by. "Your son, Joseph."

Portia's eyes trembled, her entire body racked with despair and disgust but her honed senses kept her from losing control entirely. She lay there, fuming as he watched intently, savoring her reaction until she gradually boiled over with rage.

"You can't blame me for this part!" Zarron raised his palms, barely restraining his laughter but he stopped his advance, his smile melting.

With a surprising burst of strength, she pushed up off the ground despite the weight of her own son on top of and inside her. Joseph perked to full alertness, his arms latching around her neck and shoulders for support before things got painful for the both of them. The raccoon's smugness fell right off his face at the discovery that the young man didn't have her completely immobilized.

Portia drew a dagger from a sheath stitched to her armor as she rose to her feet faster than the raccoon had expected but far slower than she would have, unencumbered. That would have let her reach him in time.

Zarron fled back to the unconscious vixen sisters, demonstrating a lack of both dexterity and courage. He stepped behind them and squatted for safety before putting a hand on each of them and blurting out a quick incantation of magical nonsense before the trio of them vanished in a puff of bluish, smoke, leaving Portia standing with Joseph hanging from her shoulders. It was the two of them and the stallion again, still unconscious, oblivious to all events and revelations of the room. A loud exhale burst from her lungs and she leaned herself against a wall, becoming more aware of the weight she was carrying. She lowered herself enough into a squat for Joseph's feet to reach the floor. Portia Pridemoon, Princess-in-exile, brave adventuress and proudly not beholden to any man, woman, family or destiny, was actually a Mother to hundreds of children. From her estimation of the age of the two girls, she had been for quite some time. Perhaps even most of her free life. It wasn't clear which sensation made her want to tear herself apart more: that someone had made her a mother, her son's massive cock knotted inside her or that she might've just had the best sex of her life with him.

Her stomach churned, preparing to vomit. The guilt hit her like waves and threatened to knock her over but she hung on to reason to keep from collapsing into catatonia. She didn't know. How could she? She had just been trying to help.

Her sons and daughters had been sold off to the kinds of people who bought children from an unscrupulous wizard and surely, at least some of them would need her aid but that momentary light of purpose wasn't enough to burn in the dark, sickness of her guilt. Heavy eyelids closed and the vixen shut down completely for a moment, sliding down the wall and hoping to wake to a different reality. Joseph sniffed softly in her ear, holding back tears as he squeezed her close, his erection shifting uncomfortably deep inside her torso.

An electricity surged through the room and a wave of hot air washing over her, alerting her again. Zarron reappeared in the room, standing by the front door, next to the stallion and all the sickness and disgust was instantly purged by a second rush of adrenaline. Another chance!

Zarron was on edge and he bent down quickly to lay a hand on the stallion's heavy shoulder. "I need him too." Portia's grip found the dagger again and wound up to throw it.

"I'll be back for the boy," he blurted out before repeating the incantation. Both raccoon and horse disappeared with the blade mid-flight and it hit the wall behind where his head had been, before clanking ineffectively to the ground.