Harem Scare 'Em

by Tripp Greyson

  Montana took the remaining cobbles and bashed them together to produce hundreds of flakes and shatter that could be formed into arrowheads. Then, using my hand-bow as a model, the women carved bodark branches into larger bows and used the stout twigs that grew straight up from fallen bodark trunks to make arrows. They also trimmed the edges of some of the unused flakes, and used them to scrape the hides of the animals we'd been eating to make armguards for the bowstrings to slap against, protecting the insides of their arms from damage.

  We took two full days to prepare. We would have taken longer if we could have, but by then that thrum of tension underlying our world sounded like it was on its way to snapping, and we knew that if we didn't attack soon, the witches would attack us.

  When not preparing for the siege, I took care of the other business I had apparently been designed for.

  The afternoon after Montana had clomped into the camp with Frieda perched on her shoulders I spent getting to know our new friends. Montana was a true mountain of a woman. She was built thick, I suppose because she had to be to support herself, and oddly enough, her skin was yellow. Not yellow as in Asian, like some of the people who live in Hamiltown, but yellow as in lemon. Her hair, though, was a rich, chestnut brown and reached down to her thighs, plaited in Valkyrie braids. Hers was a stern beauty, with wide-spaced eyes and high cheekbones, but it was beauty; all the DTs were attractive, at least to me. And yes, her boobies were very large, twice the size of my head, and rode high on her chest under her blouse.

  Frieda was a bit over one-third Montana's height, more than half mine, pale as a snowflake and thin as a reed. Her breasts were an adolescent afterthought on her muscular little body. Her hair was ash-blond, her eyes a gray nearly as pale. She wore a dress belted at the waist, and had a luminium knife strapped to her leg that she used to keep her feet clean-shaven. They were dainty and sweet, in fact, and for some reason, I found them quite sexy. While she carried an armory with her, Montana's armament was limited to what amounted to a ballista.

  I soon learned that Montana had been a man before the Step Through, while Frieda had been a woman. They had served in the same Armored Infantry unit and had been occasional lovers, so it made sense to stick together after the clusterduck their final mission had become, even though they ended up much, much different from how they had been before.

  One of the first things they did after we entered the tent was make me drag Apollo, Chaos, Dionysus, Eros, Filotus, Gration, and Icarus into the tent with us (it was a tight fit). Then they had me order the boys to disrobe, in order to show that they, too, had "wangles" like Hermes and Bill. Kay and Icky were a little reluctant; the rest were out of their clothes before I even finished speaking. Gration actually buzzed up to Frieda and kissed her on the nose. She blushed.

  Montana laughed delightedly and said, "Big Boy there looks like he's almost got enough to satisfy you on his own, darlin'!"

  "Happy to help," Gray said, doing his lazy-eyed look, and the olbytla turned even redder.

  "Um, how old are you boys?" she asked softly. Surely she wasn't considering it!

  She definitely wasn't after Dion said, as he rewrapped his little fudoshi, "Well, let's see... what is it, 53, 54 hours now?"

  "Closer to 55, actually," said fastidious Apollo.

  "Pixies are born mature," I explained. "At least, the boys are. They're also born civilized. They seem completely different from girl pixies."

  "I certainly hope so," Fil sighed. "I could really use some pussy right about now."

  "Filotus! Language!" I almost screamed, as Montana rumbled in laughter and said, "I hear ya, little man."

  "There's a pixie hive half a day to the south," Frieda said quietly.

  The boys, who had been busy dressing, all looked up, eyes wide. "What?" "Really?" "Honest and for true?"

  "It's gonna have to wait until we flush out the witches, guys!" I said over their cries of sudden interest.

  "Oh, honestly, Father!" "Dad, no, that's like forever!" "My hands are starting to get really chapped!" "Daddio! Seriously!" "Please, Daddyman? I'll be your best friend!"

  I ignored them and hustled them out the tent-flap, not listening, because... reasons. TMI, already.

  Then I faced Montana and Frieda again. "Are you convinced? Have you ever seen pixie boys before?"

  "Ain't seen any boys at all since back home," Montana rumbled. "Any way to prove they're your kids? I wanna make sure we get our money's worth."

  "Don't be ridiculous, Mountain Man," Frieda snorted. "They're obviously brothers, and the little one looks just like him in the face. They'll probably be just as fertile as he is, at least within their clan. Probably not for any of the others, though." She sighed.

  "Yeah, otherwise you'd prob'ly let Big Boy dip his wick in ya. Haw haw!" the giantess said when she saw the look on my face.

  "Kiss my ass, ya big galoot!" Montana's diminutive girlfriend got up suddenly and pushed past me and out of the tent, murmuring something that I really hoped wasn't, "I might let him do it anyhow!"

  And she yelled back once she was out of the tent, "Just for fun!"

  "Ain't she a firecracker?" Montana asked me, a wide smile on her big face. "I love that little midget."

  I looked at Montana, then thought about Frieda. Then I looked at Montana and thought about Frieda some more. "But... how? You, and her? Seriously? How do—"

  Deadpan, the giantess said, "There are ways, especially when you're bound and determined to lick the problem. Heh-heh." Then she winked.

  I stared at her for a long moment and then fell over, laughing my head off.

  ❖

  Ooooooh, yeah. When you're a giantess, "licking a problem" takes on a whole new meaning. I learned a few new things that night, including the fact that even if you have a robust privy member, it's hard for a normal-sized man to satisfy a giantess without, well, licking the problem. I also found, to my enjoyment, that I rather liked mountain climbing.

  I had the opposite issue with Frieda. To tell the truth, despite being fully adult, she was still so girlish I had to get Jen to dose me with her ferro-moans to pique my soldier's interest, and even then it took some serious effort and a flask of vegetable oil to achieve a partial entry. It was enough. I made sure to lick that problem, too.

  ❖

  Go time.

  Our little force of 17 souls broke camp well before dawn on the morning of the third day after Frieda and Montana joined us. The night before, Little Magic had informed me that his Mother had completed her back-time renovation of the Dawn Sword design. It didn't look any different: still the same bright steel with faint striations down its blade, like fine etchings or, maybe, blood gutters. "I don't see any difference, kiddo," I told him.

  Well, you wouldn't, would you? Since I sent back what we needed and Mother made the changes when she was originally designing it, the sword she gave you was the one that resulted from those changes. Don't worry about it too much, Father, it'll give you a headache.

  I had enough headaches in my life, so I didn't try to work it out. Instead, I just followed Little Magic's directions. I thrust the blade into the hardest patch of ground I could find and twisted the hilt 90 degrees clockwise, as hard as I could.

  There was a ringing crack, and nine pixie-sized Dawn Swords split off the main blade, complete with hilts. So that's what the striations were for! I lifted the parent sword out of the ground, and found that it was maybe a couple of pounds lighter and a little less than two inches narrower than before. Rather than a bastard sword, it was now a classic one-handed Crusader blade.

  The boys loved their new weapons. "Kickass!" Fil screamed as he snatched up his, which had an "F" engraved on the hilt and fit his hand perfectly.

  "Oh yeah, here we come, cocksuckers!" Gray hollered as he hefted his "G" blade. Like his other blade, this one was significantly bigger than the rest.

  "Language!" I snapped.

  "Dixies forever!" cried Chaos, as he beheaded some innocent spear-grass.

&
nbsp; Swinging his tiny I-blazoned Dawn Blade like a band conductor, Icky came up with a little song his brothers soon joined in:

  "Here come the hero Dixies, hurray, hurray!

  In our new land we'll take our stand,

  and then we'll boink some pixies!

  Hurray, hurray, here come the hero Dixies!

  Hurray, hurray, here come the horny Dixies!"

  His brothers then proceeded to invent more verses, each raunchier than the last. I was especially surprised at how inventive the normally reserved Apollo was in that regard; I was shocked by the words he rhymed with "hunt" and "suck," simply shocked!

  "Lang-" I tried to yell, until a big hand settled over my mouth.

  "Give it up, hoss," Montana advised. "Boys'll be boys, and these young 'uns are gonna deserve some fun once they help get rid o' them Alfa bitches. Don't blame yerself for their cussin'. You're a polite little man, but I suspect their mama was rough as a cob. Prob'ly a Marine NCO. Lots of pixies were."

  "But!"

  "They need it, the pixies need it, an' soon you'll be a grampa. And won't that be grand?"

  And that was that. I was too stunned with the very concept of grandfatherhood to even think clearly, so I sent the Dixies to do some aerial reconnaissance while I conferred with their Mamas and our guests. Little Magic had already filled me in on the Goddess's suggested strategy, which sounded deceptively simple. I passed it on.

  "Surely it can't be that easy," Undine protested.

  I shrugged helplessly, holding up my hands. "She says we'll be surprised how easy it is, if the prime potentiality turns out to be the one that collapses. Whatever that means. She says the Alfs hate 'em more than she does, and that's saying a lot."

  "So basically, you and the boys are just to going make like the Orkin Man, and that'll do it?" Slinky said, looking up from where she was attaching crude arrowheads to bodark shafts with sinew, tough grass, and the wax I'd offered to use to make comforting toys for Dewberry the fairy a couple weeks back.

  "I don't know what the Orkin Man is."

  She shook it off. "Too complicated to bother with now. So you and the boys surround them and tighten the circle, and we girls mop up the ones that try to escape?"

  "Dad!" "Daddyman!" "Pops!" "Daddio!" "Papa!" "Hey, Old Man!" Suddenly we were surrounded by excited Dixies, eager to report.

  Well, Quint, Little Magic grumbled in our heads. So much for the prime potentiality. I need to consult with Mother. With that, his presence vanished from my mind as quickly as it had arrived.

  "Hmmph." I pointed into the crowd of buzzing Dixies. "Leftenant Apollo! Report!"

  He stiffened instantly and raised his Dawn Blade to his slim shoulder. "Sah yes sah! Father, we snuck into the enemy camp and found that there are more of the enemy there than before! We counted at least 20 adult non-Alfas, mostly wolfin and sylvie pookas! We also saw some olbytlas and harpies, sah!"

  "Leftenant Eros reporting! They were all smokin' hot, sah! And there were some olbytla girls that appeared quite boinkable, sah!"

  Frieda turned red as a beet when Gration buzzed up next to her and kissed her on the nose, murmuring, "Yes you are."

  Meanwhile, Apollo yelled at Eros, "Shut it, Kyoop! I'm the Leftenant! I'm the one who gets to report!"

  "I can be a Leftenant too, butthead jerk!"

  "Sah!" Apollo continued, glancing evilly at his brother. "We also found a sizable encampment of baseline humans in the castle courtyard! Fifty at a guess!"

  "They were not boinkable at all, sah!"

  "Shut up, Kyoop!"

  "Yeah, Stupid Cupid!" someone in the ranks yelled.

  "QUIET!" I thundered. "Anything else?"

  Icky said quietly, "Sah..."

  "Yes, Leftenant Icarus?" I barked in what I thought was a drill-sergeant voice, though Montana was snickering at me and Slinky was having trouble keeping a straight face. Whatever.

  "Oh, I get to be a Lefty too? Wow! Um, well, Gen'ral Daddyman, me and Lefty Dion, we found a big pile of..." he hesitated, his little lower lip quivering, before continuing, "of husks."

  "Husks?" I asked, confused.

  "Drained corpses, sah," Gray reported. "Humans, including children. Over a dozen. The Alfas are getting ready for us by sucking the life out of their servants to increase their mana pool. I don't think we can put this off much longer, sah!"

  And then, because he was a Dixie, Gration announced, "Also, I want to be a Sergeant, Papa. Everyone knows it's the NCOs that keep the Army running. Mother was a Master Sergeant, not some candy-ass wet-behind-the-ears LT!"

  "Toldya," Montana murmured behind me. "Pixies were NCOs, fairies were their officers. S'why the pixies hate 'em so much."

  I face-palmed. "Oy! Now what?"

  The original plan remains sound as far as it goes, Little Magic suddenly informed us. Now, instead of bargaining with the Alfas and maybe giving them some boy children, you must kill them all and let the gods sort them out. That will sever their hold over the humans, who will scatter. If you can convince some of the pookas and olbytlas to turn their coats, it will be much easier to fight the Alfas. Then, once the Alf witches are dead, you can negotiate with the others to join the community or just give them boy children before they go their merry ways. They only joined the Alfas because they wanted somewhere safe to raise their existing children. And brothers, those olbytla girls are much too young.

  I sighed loudly. How had it come to this? I only wanted to find a home to establish the coven in, a place to raise my children and get on with my purpose in life. How was I going to destroy a nest of witches without endangering the lives of the people I loved and trusted and believed in?

  Oh, you love them, do you? Little Magic laughed. Ah, the power of love with a dollop of faith and trust. Lovely recipe. This revision will be easier, but more painful. Let's see, I need to send another backtime message to Mother... Give me an hour. I'm afraid this Intervention is going to be a bit more blatant. Oh, Supremities, this is going to push forward my birthday a good bit! See you in a couple of years, Father.

  I was a little surprised when fuzzy Ava wrapped her arms around me from behind and nipped my ear with her beak, causing me to jump. "So you loooorve us, huh? How sweet," she literally cooed.

  I twisted in her grasp and said, "And trust you and believe in you. How could I not? Haven't I shown it often enough? Besides, you're the mother of my child."

  "Sex isn't always love."

  "It is when I do it with you."

  Ava looked deep into my eyes. And then for some reason, she pushed me away, burst into tears, and ran off.

  I will never understand women.

  "You all heard that, I suppose?" I demanded of my army, hands on my hips.

  "Kiddo, the Alfa bitches probably heard it, it was so 'loud,' not that they know what love is," Montana announced. Then, coyly, she asked, "So what about me and Frieda? We're going to have your babies. You love us, too?"

  I looked at her gravely. "Maybe. Want to become my Sixth and Seventh Paramours?"

  "Shouldn't that be Fifth and Sixth?" Undine asked archly.

  "No. Coulter is my Fifth, assuming she accepts." I turned to look at the wide-eyed centaur. "Our son Saul will be born in 312 days. In the ensuing decades, he will go on to father a distinguished line of mighty centaur warriors."

  They tell me my eyes were glowing in the pre-dawn twilight as I said this. I suspect it was an optical illusion caused by their own adrenaline.

  What about Mother? Little Magic pouted. At least it was private this time.

  Aurora is a Goddess, I assured the little demigod. She's on an entirely different plane from the rest of us. She does not join mere covens. Call her my... Zeroeth, if you must.

  Ah. That makes sense, Father. His presence faded.

  Whew. Dodged that arrow.

  After a long moment, Coulter stepped up to me, embraced me, and kissed me tenderly. "Though I must return to my herd briefly, I do accept, my stallion. I will be your Fifth. And you will spoil me
. A lot."

  Meanwhile, Frieda and Montana had been conferring quietly. The smaller woman raised her hand and said gravely, "Sixth."

  Montana, grinning so widely it looked like the top of her head was about to fall off, declared, "And I'll be your Seventh, Stallion."

  A thrill went through me. I had seven wives, nine sons, and eight more to come, one of them a demigod. What would the people of Hamiltown think of me, if they could see me now?

  Chapter 7

  Contrary to our expectations of an empty facility that could be taken with no more effort than it took to claim an abandoned hut, we were faced with nearly 100 humans and DTs led by a coven of 10 Alfa witches, teen to middle-aged. I had been assured by the DTs in my group that in this case, the sobriquet "demon" was accurate. Alfas were monsters, savage psychic vampires with a thin veneer of civilization on top.