A Witch's Diary, Part 2

Story by frear_c on SoFurry

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[b]Nestertia's experiments continue unabated, and take a dark path. The second chapter of a story written in collaboration with onelastnut, check out his FA profile!


_ The 19th day of the month of the Bowing Flower, in the year of his majesty king Alderach II, 568 _

To say my lord was eager to hear my words was an understatement. He sat up as I explained to him in detail how I thought my potions would work, staring intently at me and taking in my every word. He nodded as I reached my conclusion.

"You need breeding pairs? You may have them. It is an unfortunate fact that crime thrives within my city's walls. Multitudes of poor wretches who have defied my father and I rot in prison; their lives wasting away."

"So I may use them?" I asked.

"How many do you need?"

I explained to him that I would need four males and four females in total: one male acting as a control, who would receive no brew of any kind, another would down a brew of fertilized pansies, and another would drink a brew enhanced with fertilized mint, and another still would drink a brew comprised of a mixture of both.

His highness sat back into his throne, Pondering something for a moment. "I'd like to be in attendance for this affair, would that cause you any issues?" He asked.

A few guards gave a concerned look to one another, and Roswick shifted in place next to me.

"Your presence is always welcome." I did my best to reply with little hesitation in my voice. In truth I was surprised by his request, but I quickly remembered that sexuality does not flow as freely here as it did in my village. Where I saw intercourse as a fundamental aspect of life, my king saw spectacle.

"Then you shall have your prisoners." He said, brimming with excitement. "As soon as my guards notice four female prisoners exuding the scent of heat, we shall round up four healthy males and notify you. For their cooperation I may even consider freeing them from their bonds.”

Needless to say that I agreed to these terms. And after kissing his hand and bidding him a farewell, I return to you, my diary and record my days work with glee in my heart. Progress is swift.

_ The 25th day of the month of the Bowing Flower, in the year of his majesty king Alderach II, 568 _

The day has finally come and gone, and what a day it was. Roswick and I joined in the king's procession out to his gardens, a verdant sea of exotic flora, some of which even I couldn't name. We passed by fountains trickling with pure water, benches carved of marble, and elegant shrines nestled into the shrubbery, one dedicated to each of his wives that walked with us.

We were marched to the garden’s center, and greeted by the former king's magnificent form, forever captured in a bronze statue roughly ten meters in height. He wore a noble expression, looking out on the horizon with outstretched arms. He wore no sword at his hip nor armor on his breast. Indeed, he wore no clothes at all, ready to embrace a peaceful future he forged for his subjects.

His son's prisoners waited at the statue's feet, their nude bodies exposed to the large group of noble onlookers. They all stood silently with their hands behind their backs; an armored guard assigned to each one. On the left stood the largest subject, a gray wolf, whose yellow eyes followed me as I walked by. He bared his teeth and growled, only to be silenced as his guard shoved him to his knees. I was told he was arrested for starting a fight with a merchant. Even through his thick layer of fur, it was hard not to gaze in between his legs. Without an erection, one could tell that he was still the most well endowed of the bunch, wielding a sheath that was roughly the size of my closed fist, and virile, low-hanging testes that put the others on display to shame.

The male next to him was smiling at us. A tall dingo covered in orange fur, with accents of white around his snout, belly, and thighs. He had the build of a runner; not as large as the male next to him, but most certainly more swift. Apparently, he was convicted of adultery a few months ago. His genitals were quite a bit smaller when compared to the wolf’s. They were drawn up close to his body, sleek and aerodynamic, but I was still sure they could get the job done.

The smallest male of the group, a fennec fox, looked away as my eyes met his. The vulpine quivered as he used his bushy tail to hide his masculinity from our gaze. His dusty blonde fur would have allowed him to blend seamlessly into the dunes of the east, but here, surrounded by lush growth, he was exposed. Given his composure, I was shocked to learn that the small one was imprisoned for perhaps the most egregious crime of the lot: murder. His case was still under investigation. I still don't know whose life he allegedly took and why.

Finally, there was the akita. He stood at the ready as his king approached, bowing his head as his highness took his seat. Thick white fur covered his broad chest, flowing down to his stomach, and even further to his testes and thighs. Black and brown blotches of fur covered his back and his face. Some injury had taken one of his eyes, leaving a jagged scar in its place. A former soldier, the akita was discharged from his majesty's army for pocketing some jewels he'd found on a raid.

Once everyone had taken their places, his majesty nodded at Roswick and I. I stepped forward towards the four men.

“By his majesty Alderach’s decree, you have each been summoned here-”

“To fulfill his sick desires.” The wolf said bluntly before spitting onto the holy earth beneath him.

I looked back to my king, he frowned but waved his hand at me to continue. I cleared my throat before I was interrupted again by the fox. “We were told the king needed us to lay with some females… we were not told that we would be humiliated in the process…” His large ears went flat against his skull.

“Hold your wretched tongue!” The akita spoke up. “Have the both of you no reverence?”

The dingo chuckled. “No amount of ass-kissing will get your discharge revoked, chap.”

“If I may have but a moment!” I spoke louder.

“Don't give her a fraction of your time!” The wolf snarled. “She's a witch! To her we’re just experiments, and to him…” His vicious yellow eyes went to the king. “We're entertainment.”

”What a horrid accusation!” yelled the akita. “Especially levied against the son of the mighty Alderach Witchbane. No son of his, in their right mind, would allow for a witch to live comfortably here!”

“Perhaps he isnt of the right mind?” said the dingo with the same unchanging smile. “The feline before us is most definitely a witch, I can smell the cursed herbs on her. Hypnosis is not out of the realm of possibility.”

“Are you just going to let them keep talking, Neledi?!” My king yelled.

His words were succeeded by silence. I saw a mixture of shock, horror and burning curiosity in the eyes of the men before me. Even the dingo, who carried himself with confidence throughout the chatter, seemed stunned by the name. I learned then just how powerful the reputation of my clan was, and I worried for a moment that I was going to have to force my potions down their throats. Then Roswick spoke.

“I might add that your cooperation here may lead to your freedom. His highness has agreed to look into each one of your cases if you just drink these and enjoy yourselves for a while.” He held up the vials of my potions he cradled in his arms.

The akita whined, looking back and forth between his king and I, struggling to accept the truth. The fox’s shoulders loosened a bit, and the dingo’s smirk returned to him.

“Seems like an easy choice.” he said, shrugging.

The wolf kept his malicious gaze on me, struggling under the weight of the guard who kept him in check. In the end, I was not able to get him to drink any of my brews, and thus he became my de facto control subject. The dingo took the pansy brew, the fox took the mint, and the akita, the mixture. They struggled to down the potions, with the fox even gagging as he drank his. I had never considered the taste of the brews until then, and I shall see to adding honey to them in the future, with the hope of making them more palpable.

When the last bottle was empty, the king waved his hand and the guards released all of the males with the exception of the wolf, who continued to snarl and struggle on his knees, until he was pacified by the intoxicating scent of femininity. Indeed, as the four female canines entered into the garden clearing, the demeanor of all four males changed. Their ears perked, their eyes widened, and they turned to look at their mates. One by one, the females excitedly claimed their partners. A red-haired vixen approached the akita, who looked back to his king before she reached down and cupped his testicles, giggling. He reached out and began to brush her shoulder with one of his hands, before the heat overtook their minds and they suddenly embraced with a kiss.

“I-I apologize for my size…” I heard the fennec mumble to the dalmatian who had chosen him. She stood a few heads taller than the male, excitedly rubbing her thighs. “Quiet, my prince.” she reached her hand down to feel the smaller canine’s chest. “You're perfect.”

The dingo was already feeding his growing erection with one hand, while the other worked the breasts of the tanuki girl who had chosen him. “Mister… You should know that…” She looked to the crowd that watched her in these most vulnerable moments. “This will be my first…” The dingo put a finger under her chin. “I won't hurt you, here take this pretty hand and…” He guided her hand to the source of his pleasure. “That's it…”

“Holding him down for me, are you?” said a muscular doberman, who had crouched herself down before the wolf. “Good, I like being in charge.”

“You smell awful.” The wolf snapped back.

The female chuckled. “I'm a pirate.” She looked him up and down. “And right now, you're mine.” She then promptly stood and pushed her pelvis into the wolf’s snout. He gasped and screamed, but the ruby organ rising between his legs revealed to all how this ordeal truly made him feel

Murmurs went through the crowd. Members of the king's court gasped and jeered at what was happening before them, yet none could take their eyes away from the scene. The charged air even began to arouse them, though some hid their excitement better than others.

I looked to my king, shocked to see him scowling. He met my eyes and leaned over. “You do not need the males after this?” he said to me in a whisper.

“I don't suppose I shall, why do you ask?” I saw Roswick’s ears twitch in my periphery.

“I'm going to have them hung.” He replied matter-of-factly.

“You will not see to freeing them?” I inquired.

“They disrespect me, in front of my court and my wives. I have every right to rescind my promise.”

The wolf howled loudly as his partner pushed his member into herself. The audience clapped and laughed.

“...When will they meet their fates?” I asked while watching the dingo bite his partner's neck as he thrusted into her. Roswick was looking at me now. I ignored him.

“When they finish, I've already given the order to apprehend them.” He sat back up in his seat. “I have an image to uphold. Had this lot simply stayed quiet, they would have lived to see their children.”

As I watched the fennec guide his small red member into bliss, I remembered hearing a rumor about males who are hung. In a mirror of events, I asked his highness if I could attend this execution. Roswick let out a quiet gasp.

“C-can I?” The akita asked through grunts as he thrust into his prize.

“Deeper…” the delicate voice of the vixen beneath him replied. “You can tie me! Please! I need it deeper!” They both moaned.

My king smiled. “Nestertia, your presence is always welcome.”

The doomed men had no inkling of the cruel fate that awaited them. But even had they known, they certainly would not have cared about it in this instant of animalistic heaven. One after the other they cried out and released their fertile sperm into the receptive wombs of their chosen mates. The fennec yipped and like a weeping child buried his pointy face into the breast of the large woman. Next to him the big wolf spewed a flurry of curses into the grinning face of the pirate girl.

“You filthy slut, I'll kill you… I'll rip your guts. I'll tear that spawn off your… Ahhhh,” he howled just as the skin of his scrotum contracted.

For the first time I was a direct witness to the curious phenomenon of coital knot, by which male canines remained carnally locked to their partners for some time after climax. The akita and the dingo basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. The one-eyed dog smiled in beatific bliss, no doubt thanking his good king for the blessing that had been conferred upon him, whereas the orange mutt giggled and whispered sweet words into the ear of the girl he had deflowered.

“Mmhh… Was I a good teacher?”

The tanuki nodded softly, a timid smile in her eyes.

“How I wish our priests would let us have two wives like the cats. There's so much more I could show you…”

Sweat shone on the panting doberman's hide. Underneath her the wild-eyed wolf heaved and gasped for breath, his rage drained from his testes.

“My beauty… my queen…” he raved, his blood-red tongue lolling half-out of his maw.

“Our son shall be the strongest reaver that ever sailed the seas,” she sighed and lowered her head to share a ravenous kiss with her lupine mate.

The fennec was the exception. His small member slipped out of his lady almost without resistance. This was much to his embarrassment, as his apricot-sized knot was left exposed to the amused sight of the audience until it had sufficiently deflated to retract into the relative privacy of its sheath. The others followed suit, wet members plopping out of female flesh and dangling awkwardly between furred legs.

“Ask for Vanya The Black at the quayside taverns if you ever fancy meeting your offspring… and have a second round,” the doberman said as she got up and wiped the abundant mixture of male and female fluids that dribbled down her naked thighs.

The guards rounded up the now inseminated girls and gave each of them a plain long cloak with which to cover their nudity before escorting them out of the gardens. The males instinctively moved closer to each other, as if the shared sexual act had forged an informal bond among them. Their mood was made brighter by the expectation of their imminent release, although the sating of their desires left them increasingly aware of their exposure again.

“Shall we proudly stroll out of the palace in the nude?” the dingo joked when it became clear that no garments were forthcoming.

“No, but you shall leave this world as naked as the day you were born,” the king replied, each word uttered slowly and deliberately.

The garden fell into utter silence, save for the soft gurgling of the fountains and the chirping of unseen birds. “My liege…” the akita finally blurted out, his scarred face the very picture of disbelief.

“Take them to the oak tree at once,” Alderach waved the guards.

The courtyard erupted in a pandemonium of barked shouts from the condemned men. Guards forcefully restrained the four canines and dragged them away in front of the stunned audience. Several of the noblemen and women in attendance made a move to slink off but the king gave them a stern look.

“Leaving so soon? Since you all insisted on coming, I intend that you enjoy the spectacle to the very end.”

Roswick gripped my arm when guards herded the noble crowd towards a more secluded part of the gardens where an old oak tree stood in the middle of a small clearing. There the dreaded figure of the royal executioner greeted us silently. He was a huge Bengal tiger, larger and stronger-looking than even the wolf. Rumor had it that he was the last survivor of a once-powerful feline clan, spared from the slaughter that befell his kin in exchange for a pledge to serve as the king's enforcer, a role which he had since performed with a zeal that verged on cruel pleasure.

“No… you said we would be…” the dingo whispered when he beheld the ropes that already hung from the thick branches.

“Your previous sentences are commuted as promised,” the king said, “But your insolence has outraged the crown. For this new offense I sentence you all to hang by the neck. Your bodies shall be put on display near the city's gates so you can share your jests with the crows.”

The dingo sank to his knees, as if about to faint. “You worthless swine!” the wolf roared before the tiger punched him in the stomach and sent him wheezing to the ground.

“The gods curse a murderer, but they curse a liar thrice!” the small fox interjected defiantly.

“Your Highness… I am a veteran of five campaigns against the cats. I lost my eye in your service… Does this count for nothing?” the former soldier pleaded.

“Your service is appreciated, but I cannot let today's events escape these walls. Consider this the fulfillment of your oath to lay your life for your king.”

The tiger grinned and closed his huge paw on the akita's arm. “You'll go first, like a true soldier.”

None dared avert their eyes from the ghastly scene for fear of offending the king, but I could see in the eyes of the spectators that many regretted coming to what they had expected to be a mere titillating show. The executioner slid a well-worn burlap hood over the head of the poor Akita, followed by the noose. “Long live his majesty!” were the last muffled words that issued from the dog's throat before the tiger pulled on the rope and hoisted him into the air by the neck.

Roswick covered his face as the first victim began to dance, his clawed feet scraping and kicking uselessly a few inches above the ground. “No… please, this can't be…” the dingo moaned pitifully as he beheld his companion twist in agony before his terrified eyes.

What I saw next confirmed the half-whispered tales from people who had witnessed the public execution of bandits and criminals. The akita's considerable sheath began to swell again and before long his stiff member was exposed to sight, halfway at first and then in its full indecent glory. Despite having mated less than an hour before the canine was hard as a marble statue, his obscene, red-and-purple arousal bobbing and jerking with each convulsion that rocked his body. His seed would no doubt have been spilled on the earth and wasted had I not stepped forward and grabbed his penis. Dodging the kicks and pelvic thrusts of the blinded man I firmly aimed his manhood towards one of the broad-brimmed vial which Roswick had hastily rinsed in a fountain at my command.

I was not a second too soon, barely a half-minute had elapsed when the akita tensed and exploded between my fingers, his veiny member shooting several ropes of hot, salty semen in the recipient which I held in my free hand. The fluid lacked the rich thickness I had grown used to, no doubt because his testes had not had the time to recover from his previous bout of lovemaking, but all present gasped at the quantity and strength of his discharge. It was as if the dying male had made a last-ditch effort to release as much of his sperm as possible in a desperate attempt to inseminate something and perpetuate his bloodline.

The akita began to relax as his mind and body slipped into unconsciousness but there was no time to linger on his last moments. Already the tiger had grabbed the fennec and was trying to pull a hood over his long-eared head.

“Don't touch me! Don't touch me you witch!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, visibly more afraid of me than of the hangman.

I could have told him that my actions would only bring a measure of solace to his last moments, but I doubt he would have heard me. I therefore waited for the tiger to muffle his cries with the hood and then cut them short altogether by hanging him.

The featherweight canine swayed back and forth like a delicate flower caught in a gust of wind. With a fury that belied his small size he kicked his legs and lashed his tail to protect his privates from my unwanted attention. It didn't take long however for his movements to become erratic and I was then able to grab his hairy little sheath and stroke his nascent erection behind the knot. Roswick later swore that he heard a cry of indignation issuing from the fox when I started to masturbate him in front of the assembly, but all heard was a gargled moan of forced pleasure right before my deft fingers brought him to climax. His toes curled and he emptied his little sack before suddenly going limp, the shock too much to bear.

The wolf was still crumpled on the grass, the blow having rendered him unconscious. The tiger slapped him back to reality and tried to forcefully get him up. Only his quick reflexes saved his fingers from the bite that the wolf's jaws delivered. Without losing his composure he gave the bound prisoner a heavy blow to the temple and took him in a headlock.

“A fighter to the end, I like that, I bet you'd have been fierce in bed too.”

The tiger’s muscles bulged as he pulled on the rope to lift the heavy canine into the air. The wolf did not die quietly, and the executioner had to wrap his arms around his dangling body to allow me to collect his semen without risking a kick. I can attest that he was the manliest of the four, both in spirit and in his bodily attributes, and when he ejaculated his contribution was proud and abundant. The tiger must have respected him too, as immediately after his climax ended he pulled on the wolf's body to hasten his death and spare him further suffering. The grey-furred canine shook in protest but quickly a blotch of drool began to soak the front of his hood and he ceased his struggles.

Three men now hung from the oak tree, all motionless save for the occasional spasm that made their bodies and erect penises twitch. All eyes now moved to the dingo, who himself came out of his mesmerized shock when he realized that his turn had come.

“No, someone please have mercy… I'll never do anything wrong again…” he pleaded, his eyes desperately searching the crowd but only finding faces that wouldn’t look back at him.

The tiger raised the weeping man to his feet but the poor dog was so faint that he fell to his knees again the moment the feline relaxed his grip.

“I don't want to die, I want to live, I want to love…” he sobbed, all bravado and cheer swept from his heart by the sight of the bodies that rocked softly in the breeze.

The tiger grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and forced him to look upward.

“Want to love? I can help with that,” he said with a savage grin.

Before the dingo could utter another plea the executioner passed the noose around his neck and pulled the rope until the canine was forced to stand on the very tip of his toes to barely draw breath. No hood covered the dingo's head, perhaps because the tiger took cruel pleasure in the abject panic that now filled his victim’s eyes.

“You like deflowering virgins, huh? So do I,” the tall feline chuckled as he reached out between the dingo's legs and fondled his lean genitalia.

The audience drew their breath as the tiger unbuckled his belt in front of the dog and removed his pants in a few swift kicks. His muscular thighs and buttocks were striped with black, like the rest of his body, but what grabbed everyone's attention was the stiff barbed manhood that rose from his crotch. The dingo rolled panicked eyes as he moved behind him, his expression that of a man who knew what was going to happen but did not want to believe it.

“Pity…” he rasped as the feline grabbed the base of his tail and forced him to spread his legs, “Do what you want with me but don't kill me…”

“Shut up and enjoy your last fuck,” the tiger replied before thrusting himself in.

Males of the feline race are not as massively endowed as canines or horses, but from the look of sheer shock that crossed the dingo's face it was clear that the tiger was plenty enough. Each mighty thrust lifted the smaller man, allowing him to draw in a gulp of precious air before the rope bit into his windpipe again.

“But… the law strictly forbids…” Roswick whispered.

“The heathen cats cannot be held to the same standards as pious men,” the king replied tersely, “Besides, it is fitting that a lecherous sinner should be thus punished.”

A collective gasp interrupted the king's ruminations. The dingo was rock-hard, his penis bobbing and spurting with each sacrilegious thrust that the executioner delivered into his rear end. His maw was open into a silent cry and drool dribbled from his asphyxiated lips but none even thought of coming to his rescue. I was in fact so fascinated by the shocking spectacle that I almost forgot to collect his seed. Fortunately the tiger's deep groan brought me back to my senses. The striped cat planted his teeth into the dingo's shoulder, drawing bright red blood, and claimed him by painting his insides with his release. I do not know if this was the result of the strangulation or of the tiger’s savage rutting, but the dingo followed suit and ejaculated a few seconds afterwards. His entire body shook as he experienced an intense, shameful orgasm that sent his seed flying in messy arcs of which I was only able to catch a fraction.

The tiger withdrew himself and, without bothering to shield his glistening pink member from view, hoisted his lover a few inches higher so that his toes could no longer bear his weight and gave him a good slap on the rump as a farewell. The dingo struggled weakly for another minute or so before unconsciousness mercifully claimed him. As his body settled into rest we all saw droplets of feline semen dribble one by one from under his defiled tail and fall on the lush grass beneath his bare feet. Unlike his companions he had ended his life as the unwilling receptacle of another male's brutish pleasure, but just like the rest of them he was stiff as a branch in death.

“Hmpf! The pervert enjoyed it. He will be cursed in the afterlife now,” one of the king's concubines commented as an epitaph.

“I need not explain that should any of this reach the ears of the common people I will have all those present hanged from that same tree, irrespective of rank,” the king proclaimed before making his exit. The well dressed crowd shivered and scattered with murmured whispers, leaving the worried guards behind to dispose of the bodies of my unfortunate test subjects. Only the tiger smiled with contentment as he wiped his member on the dingo's fur and picked up his discarded pants.

The 28th day of the month of the Bowing Flower, in the year of his majesty King Alderach II, 568

Over the last few days, Roswick and I have worked in near silence. He still obeys me, but only acknowledges my existence when I give him an order. Today, while employing his help planting a patch of mint, I handed him the vial of the dingo’s sample I had collected. He took it and stared at the creamy fluid intently.

"He said he wanted to live..." He whispered.

I looked up from nourishing the earth with the fennec's seed. "He did," I replied simply.

"It's not right... The way he was humiliated... that his legacy is being used this way."

My eyes were taken from my work. "Did you know him?" I asked.

"No," he replied.

"Then this is a non-issue, yes?" I said, digging my finger into the vial, scraping out the small portion of the fox's essence that remained.

"Adultery is not punishable by death," he stated, voice quivering.

I shrugged. "The king made his decision. When you are king of your own nation, you can judge criminals how you see fit. What matters right now is the opportunity these men gave us." I wiped my fingers in the dirt.

"What do you think this will achieve?" Roswick lowered his frustratingly full vial.

I told him to follow logic. If semen enhanced plants changed their attributes based on what type of seed they absorbed, and what type of plant they were, then certainly the method of achieving the seed would yield some new effect.

"That's not what I meant." He shook his head. "We're supposed to be improving lives; How can we do that while making a spectacle over taking them?"

He seemed close to weeping. I've never been good with crying. All I could do was move on to the next patch of blue rosemary and begin applying the Akita’s strong-scented sample. Roswick's tail lowered in defeat when I didn't provide an answer. He thankfully returned to his work.

The 25th day of the month of the Northern Winds, in the year of his majesty King Alderach II, 568

The herbs that arose from the earth grew to be quite different from the ones I cultivated using the seed of a man who was not hung at the time of his orgasm. This difference, however, was not of the kind I had expected. I had theorized that the seed of a dying man would be infused with his vital force, and that this animal essence would in turn fertilize the plants and lend them great potency. Instead, the pansies and mint watered with the seed of the four criminals came out sinister and eerie-looking. The pansy flowers bloomed dark as night with streaks of blood-red crimson, and the mint’s leaves and stems were covered with tiny barbs that gave my finger a rash after I imprudently touched them. My apprehensions regarding the nature of the plants were confirmed when I mixed some of the flowers and leaves into the food of a tame pigeon and saw the animal contort and die in agony within the hour. It goes without saying that, although the herbs made for a fearsome poison, they were utterly unsuitable for our present needs.

I will admit that I was somewhat disappointed, but not as downtrodden as Roswick, who used these results to further his agenda against "needless killing".

"Their legacy has gone to waste," he said, walking back to the laboratory alone.

Contrary to his belief, the men who now rot outside of our walls actually made their mark on history: in the form of their offspring. As I am recording this, all four females have been confirmed pregnant, two months along in fact. I have spoken with and examined each of them, all seeming in good health. In a few more months’ time I should be able to confirm whether my methods shall yield a suitable heir for you, my king.

The 30th day of the month of the Northern Winds, in the year of his majesty King Alderach II, 568

Today, I had a rather extraordinary experience at the baths. As I washed, an energetic man's voice sounded from behind me. I turned, and there stood the royal executioner, looking down at me with fiery orange eyes above a beautiful toned body, nude and shameless. As we spoke, I constantly had to stop my eyes from trailing down his exotic form.

"What a happy surprise! The only other feline granted permission to live behind these walls."

"Nestertia Neleda," I replied, forcing myself to smile. "I don't think I ever got your name."

"Rufus is the name the dogs gave me." He bowed. "May I?" He gestured to the water. My body tensed, but I quickly relaxed myself and cleared my throat.

"Of course," I said with all of the confidence I could muster.

He grinned giddily and stepped slowly into the pool, groaning as the warmth enveloped him. Even sitting down, he still towered over me.

"It took me some time to grow accustomed to canid bathing culture."

"You did not have mixed baths where you are from?" I asked.

He snorted. "The females of our tribe were hidden away for days whenever one of us hunters so much as glanced at one."

I chuckled; the first time in years. "You know, even though we are both felines, our mother cultures seem worlds apart."

He rubbed water on his forearm. "Interesting isn't it? How the crown does not distinguish between us."

I watched him bathe in silence for a few seconds. I'm ashamed to say that my cheeks were burning hotter than the water we sat in. "Your tribe... Where they..."

"All killed during the witch hunts." He shrugged. "Though we didn't practice witchcraft."

"I see." I said with a tinge of solumness in my voice. I felt in that moment slightly responsible for the eradication of his family. Had clans like the Neledi not practiced the pharmaceutical arts, there would be no need for the canines to have felt threatened by felines. "Do you... resent great Alderach's actions?"

He looked up at the swirling mists above him, pondering for a moment. I realized that he probably had never been asked that question before. "Not really, no," he replied.

I could feel my brow raise, the same sort of curiosity that flares when I brew lit in my heart. "How?"

He leaned back, spreading his arms out behind him and crossing his legs underwater. "Flower, how could I hate a life where I get to fuck and kill canines in front of their king? With no worry of being executed or... gelded." He shivered.

I recalled the legionary captain we met in the brothel. "Is castration a common occurrence?"

"Evidently it's a punishment reserved for the males who chase tails in this kingdom. But I've never gelded a dog before, not under this king's reign." He shrugged. "That's not to say I would say no to the chance if it arrived."

I could hear Roswick's sanctimony. "My assistant thinks we have lost touch with morality."

"Who? That mouse? Bah." He waved away the idea of Roswick, temporarily clearing a cloud of mist that had formed between our faces. "I could tell he was the squeamish type during my show."

"But do you think he is right? Must we draw a line?" I asked.

"If the canines drew lines they refused to cross they wouldn't own most of the known world..." He gestured to himself and I. "...and we would still inhabit it. They draw strength from their ruthlessness, and so I get entertainment from mine. I recommend you think about what you could gain from yours." He smiled at me, spreading his legs underwater.

The warmth in my cheeks had already spread down to my groin, and I shivered as he leaned close, purring in my ear.

"I can tell you have a fire in you, a witch as knowledgeable as yourself should know that it's unhealthy to restrain urges."

I smiled back at him. "Flattery does not lead to a witch's favor."

He laughed at the familiarity of my words. "His majesty's father was quite the orator, no?"

_ The 26th day of the month of the Deafening Night, in the year of his majesty King Alderach II, 568 _

At long last, all four pups of the criminals have seen the light of the world. Today, I went to see them in the chambers where the females have been kept during their pregnancy. With the supervision of his majesty's guard, I examined each of them up close, starting with the wolf's child.

Born a she-wolf, the child was disappointingly light; below the average weight of a pup at her stage of life

"A runt," I mumbled to myself.

"Shame the lad couldn't give me something better, he had a lotta fight in ‘im." The pirate mother agreed.

It does not seem a coincidence to me that the spawn of the control would turn out this way. Thanks to the wolf's temperament, he could not spare his daughter the fate of being born lame. I returned the babe to the mother, who despite her earlier comments, took her back with open arms.

Next I went to see the fennec's offspring. His pup was born a dalmatian like his partner and, like her predecessor, also female. She whined when I took her from her mother's breast, and squirmed in my arms, making it quite difficult for me to hold her. The fox may have been small and reserved, but thanks to the mint brew I have given him, he was able to leave behind a strong legacy.

I then sought the tanuki's pup. When we came to her room, she was far less eager to give her child to me, but after some persuasion from the guards, she handed him over. As anticipated from the pansy brew subject, the dingo pup I was given was male, though he cried quietly and didn't move much. His mother hovered over me.

"I-is he okay?" She asked with great worry in her eyes.

I explained to her that his bones were brittle, but if he were able to survive his first year in life, recovery was possible. She eagerly took her baby back when I offered him to her.

"He looks just like him, don't you think?" She whispered solemnly.

I told her I didn't see why he wouldn't, considering he was the product of his father. She furrowed her brow, not seeming content with my answer, but I could not linger, my heart yearned to see what the Akita's seed had yielded.

Unlike the last few pups, the Akita's mother was not present for our visit. Apparently, the vixen had not survived the birth, leaving the child in the care of a royal wet nurse. She handed him to me without any hesitation. I couldn't help but smile, my tail flicking up dust behind me. The pup I held in my arms cried loudly, squirming as I inspected him. His size and temperament made him difficult to manage. I could easily see how this babe would have sapped all of the energy from his mother to come into the world.

And so tonight I write to you my king, exhilarated. For it would seem as if my hypotheses were correct. Of the four pups I examined, it was the Akita's who showed the most promise. His heir was large and strong, in the spitting image of his father. He should make for a fine soldier one day, and I can only reason that my brew is responsible. Indeed, the soldier-turned-convict drank a brew who's primary ingredients were a mixture of both the semen-enriched mint and pansies. I can conclude with certainty that a brew of this kind should help you sire the heir you desire.