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Breeding Season: The Making of a Kingpin	By : Cokemonster Category: +A through F > Breeding Season Views: 7479 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Breeding Season, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
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Author’s Notes:
I need to keep reminding myself not to take this seriously. It was somewhere when I was disputing with myself what kind of metals this post-industrial pre-guns era would possess that I had to take a step back. Jeez. Also sorry, no sex scenes this time. That’s a warning I’ll only give once, but there will be some chapters dealing with only characters and plot stuff. Hopefully you enjoy a bit of context with your smut as I do.
1
(Nine out of ten Imperial doctors recommend you do NOT lather your skin in cum. Monster or otherwise. It’s unsanitary.)
Joey stumbled forward blindly. The cloth around his eyes was thick. His wrists were still bound behind him, his mouth re-gagged for the third time, and still a captive of the elf woman who kept a firm grasp on his back. Blaire led both he and Raimey in this fashion toward destination unknown. At least his pants had been fixed.
When they first got out of that strange dungeon and into some open air, Joey had felt soft dirt and grass under his moccasins. The faint breeze and lack of light penetrating the blinding fabric told of night’s coming. He had to wonder how long they’d been kept unconscious. He had thought he’d been kept under by his head trauma, but Raimey had only awoken when Blaire finally said it was time to go. One of those cloths Blaire hides within her coat might just have some date rape fun juice sprinkled on. He feared how many young studs such as he were taken advantage of in that love den of hers.
“Watch your step.”
Joey jerked to a stop. “Where?”
“Right there.”
He looked down and tried his best to see what it was she was talking about. “I can’t see anything.”
“That’s because you have a blind fold on.”
Another of those giggles came upon the elf. Joey realized it was a joke. A very shit tier one. He had an obligation to pronounce it so, but he added just a bit more some tact to it. “That was about the stupidest thing I’ve heard all my life.”
“I like to have fun with my work.” She began pushing him again. “I’m sure you do to.”
“Not reall—“
“Hay, umm,” Raimey’s voice called from his left. “Can we get some answers before we all chat like we the best of friends? I’m still hazy on how I even got here.”
“All will be made clear like the waters of Lake Languid.” Blaire said.
They walked some more, the dirt turning into gravel that crunched harshly beneath their three sets of feet. A wind had picked up. The slight chinking of a wire prattled nearby. It whispered with the breeze, bringing on images of a ranch’s fence on a cool night. Joey heavily doubted they were anywhere near a ranch, given nothing like pigs or cows were grown around these parts. Everything he ate and had ever eaten had been fish, lumberries, or imports.
“I’d hardly call that lake’s water ‘clear.’ Last I swam in it, I had a rash for weeks.” Raimey said.
“It’s just an old saying.”
Blaire pulled them to a stop. She went ahead, and for a few terrifying seconds Joey thought she would leave them stranded there as a result of that “test” she’d performed on him. He’d be fine with that, if a bit disappointed. They could probably find their way back home, if they weren’t mugged or kidnapped by some other gang along the way. He could imagine it now, some tattooed boozo getting a delighted cheer watching the pair of already tied up victims traversing the streets. Joey didn’t think he’d make a very good sex worker. He didn’t have the hips for it.
After some jingling of locks, wire, and gravel, Blaire did come back to push them inside whatever pen they were being led into. It was another short walk, another locked door that was smaller, and another setting they were thrust into. He could no longer feel the breeze rolling past him, and the new pungent smell of feces and dried hay invaded his nostrils. A sharp light seeped through his blindfold.
It wasn’t too far in before Blaire stopped them. “Kneel here for me, darlings.”
“Uhh…” Joey said. “Here?”
Her hand caressed his shoulder a bit. The back of his legs were then kicked in. Spikes of pain shot up from where his knees collided with solid rock.
“Fuck!” He said.
A moment later, the same was done to Raimey.
“Ouch! Shit! Cool it lady!”
They were left grunting without explanation from the elf.
“Ugh…” Raimey said. “That smell. You smell that shit?”
“Like rotten eggs.” Joey said. “What the hell is all this unnecessary roughness for, huh?”
He was blatantly ignored, left with silence as a reply. He wondered if she was even still behind him.
“Ahem.” A new voice came from directly ahead. It was higher pitched, and couldn’t possibly be Blaire. Joey thought he could be mistaken to thinking it sounded like a little boy. There was little chance of a child being involved in this mess.
His blindfold was suddenly ripped off. Joey was subjected to a few seconds of squinting against the intense lamplight shining on them. Four silhouettes stood with their backs against this light, looking down on him. One was about as tall as he was kneeling, but what caught his eye first and foremost was the shadow towering over the rest. It had arms the size of clubs with lumps of muscles protruding like cancerous growths. The upper body was definitely what this behemoth put down on his resume’, as his legs were almost comically disproportioned to the rest of him. It would have been comical, if Joey hadn’t realized his legs were still thick enough to lop off his head with one kick. This had to be a monster. A demon perhaps. But as he became attuned to the harsh light, the shadows concealing his face waned. Joey saw the human eyes glaring at him. He saw the scars running down his tanned cheeks to the sour line of a mouth shut firm.
This… is Blaire’s boss? What the hell! Why isn’t he a scrawny elf! If I refuse any offer this man gives, he’s going to rip my neck off and and buttfuck the rest of me!
“U—uh.” Joey fixated on the man, trying his utmost to seem respectful. “G—good day! I’m… I’m…” He lost his nerves along with his voice.
The towering man furrowed his brow, his square jaw remaining still with no reply.
Oh shit! I’ve insulted a god damn gang leader. We’re dead. Dead!
“AHEM.” That cute voice repeated with annoyance more prominently conveyed.
Joey snapped to the other, much shorter shadow. It stood proudly in the limelight with oddly large sleeves planted to the hips. The contrast of light and dark was far too much to see facial features, but Joey had the instinctual sense that there were fierce eyes staring back at him. This one was no taller than the waistline of the other, but the way it stood center stage made Joey second guess himself. As soon as the thought of this one being the Boss came to him, he immediately forgot his fear as bewilderment took its place.
“Do you know why you’re here?” This little figure said.
Joey turned to Raimey. Her curls were a mess that hid half face, but he could see the other half was a reflection of his. He could tell plainly: Neither knew who to speak to, or more accurately, who to beg for their lives to.
“EYES FORWARD.” The tiny voice quickly became abhorrently loud, sending echoes to bounce off far away walls.
Joey did as commanded, straightening his back for good measure. “Sorry. Ah… Are you the leader of this whole… whatever it is you’re doing?”
“Yes.” The shorter shadow said. “And you will address me with respect.”
Joey cocked his head a bit, waiting for a punchline to the joke. But as his eyes scanned the Tower Man, the Short Stack, and the other two indistinct shadows, he understood the air of seriousness was not a farce.
“Oookay… Boss.” Joey treaded somewhat braver than before. “I believe Blaire said something about a job?”
An awkward silence. The sound of horny male crickets chirping outside filled the emptiness. The shadows didn’t move an inch, save for one of those off to the side who sniffled distractingly.
Finally, Short Stack got to what this was all about. “You were transporting a catgirl valued at two hundred and thirty four gil in the markets during one of the busiest times of day.”
Joey inhaled on reaction. “Yeah. Yeah I just happened to find that thing on the streets yester— or two days ago—how much did you say she was worth?”
“Two hundred and thirty four gil.” Short Stack repeated (Joey still didn’t believe this was their Boss). Then she added in a strange complementary way, “That takes balls. I like my men to have balls like that.”
Joey nodded, exaggerating the motion. “Thank you. Ahhhhh. So. How about you take that catgirl in exchange for letting us—“
“And by that scar you have,” Short Stack continued unwavering. “I’d say you have the biggest balls in the city.”
“Thank you.” He said. “But this is really weird to hear from a child. Are you child? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just your voice and all.“
“You wanna talk shit to the people holding you Joey? Really?” Raimey hissed beside him.
“Is this your partner? Or human whore?” Short Stack said.
Raimey gasped at this. Before she had the chance to go back on the advice she had given, Joey cut in and redirected her ire.
“No no. She may be dressed like one, but I could never handle her.”
“You motha—“ Raimey sucked in her lips, her arms twisting to become free. “All I wanted to do was get your ass and go for a well-deserved night on the town, but Noooo. We have to smuggle some furry rat you scraped out of the trash!”
“Ayy. I didn’t force you to do anything. I asked politely. You obliged like the good friend you are, and now we’re getting job offers. It all worked out.”
Raimey fumed at him. It was better than her cursing this midget before them with all the sailor speak she had in her vocabulary.
The little shadow chuckled slightly. They were winning favor with them. Now, all he needed to do was politely decline the offer.
Short Stack double tapped the cobble floor with bizarrely shaped boots. “Wheatley! Cut that damn light off.”
One of the other shadows sluggishly broke away from the ranks, offering a slow “Yeah, yeah Boss” as it disappeared briefly. The sounds of fumbling metal were heard, and the light began to shift. As it turned out, the beam of light had come from some kind of shielded lantern. Once the metal covering was pulled away by that henchman, the light dissipated in focus and spread to illuminate the rest of the area. Joey once again had to become acclimated, but this time it was much faster. He saw he was in a rather spacious facility with a roof high above him. There were horse sized crates cluttered about marked with some company’s logo. The Tower man became no less intimidating in the revealing dimness, but Joey got to see the other two silhouettes to be normal humans. They had no estranged disproportions, and reminded him of the teens who worked the assembly lines for minimal pay, not toughened gangsters. Joey’s eyes then fell to the Short Stack, who he desperately wanted to believe was some sort of midget rather than a child. That turned out to be somewhat true, if much more complicated.
The child before him had wings. The odd sleeves about its arms were not clothing, but glossy green feathers. The bizarre boots upon its feet were four-toed talons sporting sharp nails that left scratch marks on the cobble. Joey couldn’t even tell if it was a boy or girl, for the clothing consisted of neutral greens and whites that covered it from head to toe, only leaving the arms and ankles free to the air. This wasn’t helped by the neck-length, messy hairstyle and sharp but adorable glare it was giving. Its chest was flat, a silver chain tucked inside the unbuttoned collar of its white shirt.
Harpy. Monster. A monster is speaking to me. OK.
Joey breathed sagely, measuring the amount of responses he could have at this. He couldn’t find a happy outcome to any of them, and went with remaining as mute as possible. He couldn’t save his eye from twitching on its own, though, and feared that would spread as the madness overtook him.
The harpy stepped forward, its wings spreading out a bit as it walked. It stopped some feet away, planting the wings back upon its hips. The dour scowl portrayed on its round face betrayed the intent Joey thought it was going for. “I am Yulia Berkley, head honcho of the Monster Operational and Neo-Idealistic Sex Taboo Advocates. You’ll address me as Boss. We are all here to see if you two are going to take up the fight against oppression. Against those damn inquisitors and their bigoted, restrictive laws on monsters. We fight every day so that human and monster needs are met in this corrupt empire, and we need all the bodies we can get to help liberate the people of their forced—forced…“ Feathers floated down as the little one’s wings fluttered with passion. Its cheeks reddened and puffed, then deflated with a frustrated sigh. “Benny!”
“Chastity.” A cavernous, curt reply came from the Tower man.
“Chastity!” The harpy blurted. “Liberate people of their forced chastity. Thanks Benny.”
Joey slowly pivoted to his left. Raimey’s face was scrunched up, inaudibly mouthing “No” and “What the fuck?” over and over again. He nodded in agreement, turning back to the harpy. It didn’t seem to notice, and just went on with the questionably rehearsed shpeal.
“Hem…” It coughed into a wing. “Your job will consist of tending, caring, feeding, mopping up after, general handling, but most of all, the smuggling of my monsters. Pays twenty gil per hour startin’ off. This job ain’t for mooks, or brain-dead religious types, or easily flustered nannies who can’t stand the sight of a couple dicks. I need able bodies with able heads on their shoulders. So what do ya say? Joey? Raimey? Are you in or out?”
He glanced to Raimey, wanting to time their response together. He internally counted to three, and said:
“In”
“Out”
Joey saw her snap toward him in his peripheral. She repeated her answer, as if he had not heard it.
“Out.”
Joey turned to her. “In.”
“OUT!”
“IN!”
“OUT!”
“IN!”
The harpy switched between the both of them. “Is this some lewd code between you two?”
“Joey are you outta your mind?” Raimey went on. “Monster smuggling? You’re a mechanic! You get good doe for honest work! Why would you degrade yourself like this?”
He hung his head low. After hearing all of that nonsensical garbage spoken from the apparently highly intelligent monster child, Joey came to understand the world in a brand new light. From that moment, all of his worries were flushed away. The speech it had given riled up something deep inside his heart, something that silenced all of the problems and questions arising. The thoughts raging within him were conflicting. The little altar boy in the robes his mum picked out for him was shouting to do what was right. The horned man with his father’s uniform and a catgirl between his legs told him plainly to do what he desired. He was listening to both, one more than the other. He held his head high.
“I don’t give a shit about the money. Or the morals of it. Or the religious legality. In the past weekend, I had my knob slobbed by a catgirl. I buttfucked the same catgirl after thinking we were caught by the inquisition. And had hot ass sex with an elven gang member. Now, I’m talking to a harpy. A talking harpy! So fuck that mundane grind of nine-to-five. Fuck the Order, too! If this is what I can expect on a day to day, I want to fuck monsters for a living!” He shimmied closer to the harpy. “I’m in.”
Raimey didn’t say anything in rebuttal. He might have gone too hard there. Even the harpy was looking at him funny. His cheeks quickly flushed as he realized he’d poured his heart out amongst these strangers and soon to be coworkers.
“Errm… You won’t be allowed to mate with them during work hours without my say so… Also,”The harpy eyed past him. “You fucked him?”
Joey blinked at this, then remembered Blaire was behind him the whole time. His cheeks became ever more heated.
“…Perhaps.” Her reply eventually came. “I wanted to test his skills is all.”
The harpy looked indubitably at this. “Oh? Did you test the girl in the same fashion?”
“Mmmm… no. But I have no qualms if you order it so.” If she was being scolded, she didn’t sound like it.

“That’s how I know you just wanted to get your rocks off. How many times have I fucking told you to stop fucking the recruits? How many times?”
Joey cocked his head back, curious of that as well. Blaire met his eyes, then rolled hers and pretended to become intrigued by a pile of planks. That perpetual smile she wore was gone, lending Joey to believe this was indeed a scolding. “I don’t recall, Boss, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“Thirsty seven.” The harpy said. “I say thirsty because that’s exactly what you are! Incompetent bint.” She turned and walked off, returning to the center stage.
Joey lingered on Blaire. A pang of guilt had from getting her ass-blasted by her supposed “superior”, even if it was unknowingly done so. This was made twice as wrenching on him when he realized she spoke nothing of his incompetency. Joey resolved to just owe her one, and faced the harpy once more.
“So.” It said. “At least we got one. Wasn’t a total waste of—“
“I’m in too.” Raimey said.
“What?” Joey turned to her with mouth agape.
She shook her head slowly, as if still coming to terms with the utter 180 in opinion. “I’m in. I won’t be in in until I hear some details. Like I don’t wanna be raped by no monsters, but that pay beats my salary by damn near twice as it is… How much was it again?”
“Twenty gil an hour.” The harpy tilted its chin up high in a very proud display. “Bonuses and commission for good behavior, like luring in potential buyers or recruits. We’ll go over all the details later. For now, go home and get some real rest. Find your way here Monday sharp for your first day of training. With that, I’m hitting the hay.” It spun around on one set of four toes, curling the other leg in a girly show of balance. “Benny!”
The harpy beat her wings several times, creating a small gust as she floated upward. Her talons briefly dug into the shoulder of the giant man named “Benny” before she sat upon his shoulder. They made off deeper into the warehouse, bending around a crate and out of view. The two humans followed, offering cautious glances to the newcomers.
Joey and Raimey were both lifted away by Blaire, and hauled off un-blindfolded. He got to see the way they had come, which was through a wide overhead gate which opened to the outside. It was one of those made of sectional steel plates, and was expensive and rare to see outside of the major company’s loading docks and back ends. Blaire struggled a bit with a rope lever, creating enough of a gap for them to duck under. She nodded for them to walk through on their own. They were hesitant, but didn’t refuse. The gate slammed behind them, Blaire staying on the other side. They were left alone in a strange area surrounded by a barbed chain fence stained with gruesome splotches of red-brown rust. Chunks of gravel lay beneath their feet, extending all the way out beyond the fence until dirt reappeared. Stout trees sprawling with branches hid the orange waxing horizon. Some of the tallest exhaust stalks from the industrial district could be seen poking above the greenery. It seemed like only a few minutes’ walk before they’d come to the outskirts.
The run down warehouse they had been in had three neighbors. One to the left and two the right. All had broken windows, discolored clay bricks, and discarded piles of lumber. The silence that they were left in made these seemingly abandoned structures ghostly and foreboding. They made him question if it had all happened at all.
Thankfully, Raimey was there and could pull him back to reality. She did so, yanking his tied wrists with her own bound hands.
“Woah!” Joey skipped and nearly fell as he was thrust forward, gravel flying as it was kicked up by flailing feet.
Raimey kicked the rustic gate, and Joey grimaced at noticing the lock pop off and fall many feet away. They continued in this way until they were passed some trees and were submerged in the forest’s thick banter of crickets and awaking birds. She then turned around swiftly, both now struggling to catch their breath.
“Phew!” She said. “That was close. You know, I didn’t catch on to what you were doing there. But when you said all that stuff about wanting to fuck monsters… I knew! Damn! Had me going there.”
“RIGHT?” Joey extended his open palms as if the answer was plain to see. “I thought you were going to catch on sooner! We nearly got killed!”
“You were right. There was no WAY we were getting out of that without lying. I should have thought of it sooner, I mean really.” Raimey was beaming. Her full rows of yellow tinged whites contrasted with the dark forest around them. “All right c’mon. We gotta get back to town and forget this ever happened as soon as possible. I’m thinking we break out the hard stuff tonight.”
Joey cracked his neck. He groaned in satisfaction as his shoulders popped. “I could really go for some Lumberry wine. Maybe celebrate with the premium stuff.
“I’ll drop that thousand gil this Sunday morning. I think we can skip mass once or twice. It’s not every day you spit in death’s face! Bet they would’ve fed us to some giant ass wolf had I kept refusing. Great idea Joey. You’ve been wrong sometimes, but now is not one of those. Not one of those at all! C’mere!” She wrenched him down and wrangled his neck in her vice grip.
Joey laughed, and eventually broke free as they made their way down the dirt path. It was all butterflies and rainbows as they made their way back to town. The sun rose steadily, waking up the city and signaling the time for mass. When the sky was a crisp blue with the east burning gold, they found some patron with a dagger willing to lend it and cut themselves free. Joey payed a gil for it, and they continued past the migrating crowds. No one questioned them, thankfully, and they arrived at Joey’s disheveled flat with worn smiles still affixed. They drank what was left of his pantry, Raimey crashing on his couch once the sun was well above.
Joey laid awake on the bed. The fabric on his back felt crusty, and rough. That faint aroma of the catgirl still lingered. It was still at the back of his mind. He hadn’t drunken much. So he laid awake with that smell, the sounds of residents returning to their rooms, and the complicated questions like how he was going to hide the fact he was going to become a monster smuggler from his friends and landlord. He could call in sick one, two, maximum three days and then have to make the final choice. He already knew what he’d choose when that time came, but the issue was Raimey. He’d have to think of something.
He drifted off to sleep somewhere in the late afternoon. He dreamed he was a pirate with an exotic bird on his shoulder crying: “Fuck the Order!”
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Breeding Season: The Making of a Kingpin