Harpin’ on Harpies – 7 [❤️]

The days pass.

August is a friendly bull that was born from a minotaur that happened to develop a pregnancy fetish. He’s got orange skin, red fur and darker mohawk, and light green eyes. The sex was…okay. He much preferred the stories you told.

It was only after September, the shrewd minotaur cow, that you realized that the pirate's constant exposure to you made them develop said fetish. Her toned brown skin and deep blue eyes made you melt in place, especially with her slicked back spiky chestnut hair. Despite her stature, she was more of a thinker. She was blessed with an athletic body and strategic mind, but a preference for smaller dicks. That was a little embarrassing for you, you thought something was wrong with you!

October wasn’t an accident. He was the result of you working your new ‘fetish manipulation’ ability on a people you had for yourself. You wanted an equint incubus and you managed to roll one first try. The exotic purple patterns gray skin, his violet hair in thick curls, and dark endearing eyes…his massive horsecock complimented his submissive personality, which only disappeared when you start debating him. Too bad you didn't get a chance to explore his dominant side before he was chained far away.

November was when four equints had you for themselves. The swirly white patterns on red skin and amber eyes looked a lot like you except with swirls of cum painted all over. She loved being degraded as much as you, which made her first time quite interesting. Say what you want about the holy chains, but they were great for training your most basic abilities.

December is a jolly green bull, taller than any of your other children. He's pretty lucky too; he had enough time to fuck you twice because of some delay above deck. And he nearly escaped when his manacles malfunctioned somehow.

Twice.

At this point, you all have mastered telepathy, thanks to the older ones helping the younger. You ran out of months, so you fell back to days.

New Years is an excitable people person, and despite only being four feet tall, she was about three feet thick in her thighs and bust. She’s an equint as well, immaculate black swirls accentuating her massive pale tits and thighs. When she speared herself on your massive dick, she squatted so deep you could see your length poke between her cleavage, making her womb swirls pop out as her white apple-bob bounce in rhythm with her pink nipples.

Equinox and Solstice were two harpies, polar opposites. While Equinox is warm and even, with short wavy orange hair and feathers speckled yellow, Solstice is a cold and contrarian absolutist, with blue-white feathers and elbow-length midnight blue hair.

They hated each other and showed it the only way they knew how.

Hatefucking.

Maybe this isn’t the best environment to raise kids.

Thanksgiving is a thick, brown-skinned cow born from your pleasant experience with Saw. Her wavy brown hair has red and yellow highlights reflects a warm heart bigger than her booty. She’s got bigger tits and thighs than you do. And even more endurance than her father, which is saying a lot. Let’s just say when you’re taking this ship, you’re going to keep Saw.

She also seems to have inherited a bit of his smarts, making her kinda dense. She has been tricked into giving oral by a few of her siblings asking to help her look for ‘lost donuts’.

Fools is a bit of a comedian. Crazy hair, green eyes, purple stripes on green skin. Lots of personality, and the most confusing sex you’ve had yet. You’re pretty sure his dick is made of rubber.

And Labor…

It’s adorable how much he tries, even if he never really grows up. His pale gray skin, black hair that covers most of his face, green eyes. He’s too shy to show his freckles and needed a lot of encouragement.

Halloween may look scary with her glowing orange eyes and sharp teeth…But she’s a sweet girl who’s grown about as much as Labor, and makes jokes with Fools. Even if she’s a foul-mouthed sadomasochist you’re pretty sure is more war than lust demon.

Valentine is the sweetest thing. A pink everything harpy, save for red-speckled feathers, with pink eyes and the biggest heart-shaped red fluff between her wings. She never stopped masturbating. She was so flexible she could give herself oral. It was nuts. . Having sex with her with like an orgy with a den of rabbits. Quick, fuzzy, and unrelenting.

Sunday and Monday had to pull her off me after her first feeding. Or rather, her fifth.

She even managed to seduce the hen next to her so they could have sex.

No pheromone control. Just skills. And hiding her masturbation.

At this point, the women, save Grim, had accepted us. After all, despite the depravity, we saved them from rape and entertained them. Not just with stories, if their DESIRE was anything to go by.

In that time, Monday had been the victim of your fetish manipulation three more times, and Wednesday once. The newest imps consisted of Blinky and Pinky. The last two, like the last child, are yet to be born.

You patted your swollen abdomen and smiled as Monday and Wednesday stared each other down, daring the other to give birth first. Monday shuddered and moaned as her cunt widened, her legs shivering in spasms.

“~Oh yes!” A spray of femcum erupts from her dilating lips, and she starts rubbing her clit violently.

“Come on Wednesday, didn’t you say you wanted an imp?” You smirk at your impassive daughter.

“I wanted a crow.” Despite her monotone voice, she shivered in delight.

“Are you at least enjoying it?”

“The sensation is adequately pleasurable.”

You wink in her direction. “Come on, do the face.”

“No.” She rolls her eyes.

“Pleeeease?” You swivel your exposed crotch seductively.

“Fine, fine, only if you stop.”

She holds up two talons on each wing-hand in a victory pose, rolling her eyes back and sticking out her tongue. A textbook ahegao.

She still looks bored.

But as she does, a shiver of delight passes through her and her womanhood pushes out her spawn. Her claws dig into the floor as her demonic pussy is spread apart, shuddering from orgasm after orgasm passing through her. And that bored mockery becomes so legitimate your own dripping cunny aches to feel her pleasure.

Spit erupts from her clenched teeth, dribbling down her doddering chin and her eyes roll almost completely back.Her smile is so wide on her uncharacteristically pleasured face, her shadow-magic mascara running down her face in rivulets. She can’t even speak as she pushes the baby though, struggling to clench her teeth to keep from smiling but failing so utterly.

“G-g-ghu-ghughgugg!”

It’s like she’s being electrocuted and enjoying it. The imp is born with a final spray of cum and Wednesday collapses into a pile of shaking limbs. Her last spasm send a jet of femcum high into the air… and into Tuesday’s face.

“Yum, thanks!”

“That means you’re next to get pregnant!” Monday jeered as she breastfed her imp.

“Just because you aimed at Wednesday last time doesn’t mean Tuesday’ll have to give birth!” Thursday pointed out.

Wednesday looked a bit proud at her first birth, nudging her wing at the harpy imp. You quickly gave the order to the newly-born Clyde and Pac to turn into rats and join their brothers on the crow’s nest. Monday taught Wednesday how to use them as eyes while you used your makeshift security cameras to scan for an opportunity.

You had gotten so good at using multiple imps at the same time, that you could split your awareness between two bodies. So while a part of yourself was having wild sex with your newborn child, Emancipation…

Another part was jumping from imp to imp looking for your saving grace. You had one day left, after all. And for once, you did not glower too much when Glasgow chained up your last spawn. Because you found your chance.

<Monday, Sunday, how far are you along with your magic?

<Far enough to break our chains, maybe yours if we work together, Lady Quinn.

<It’ll have to do. Discreetly free yourselves while I bring the distraction over. It should be here in less than twenty minutes.

<My Lord, how long is a minute?

Crap, no concept of time.

How can you relate to them?

<Around one hundred twenty moderate thrusts is one minute. Or one hundred eighty fast thrusts.

There was a telepathic pause.

<I see.

<But why not measure everything in thrusts, Lady?

You wish you could have told them that there’s more to life than just sex, but they were practically raised in it. Molded by it. They hadn’t seen any other reason to exist until they were grown.

And hopefully it won’t be too blinding.

Or maybe because they’re succubi and incubi.

<It’s based on the cycles of the sun and the moon. Sixty seconds make a minute. Sixty minutes make an hour. Twenty-four hours make up a day. And 365 days make up a—oh. Never mind, that was used to measure time on a different planet.

<Pardon, Lady Quinn, but what do mean by that?

<Long story. We’ll use seconds, minutes, and hours for now.

<Why not use thrusts and inceptions for now? I’ve asked Wednesday and September and both agree that if 120 moderate thrusts make up a minute, then an hour is how long it takes for you to create one of us after insemination.

Damn those smart demons! Why did they have to take to math so easily?

<Just pass the word that in seventeen minutes, or in 1540 moderate thrusts, we’ll have our diversion.

While you’re discussing alternative forms of time measurement, you’re also flying as Inky towards a suspicious cloud. Of course it’s not so suspicious at first glance. It’s somewhat overcast over what seems to be an endless sea. You were quite surprised a few days ago after the ship passed over a sandy coast. But even if you were to look with soulsight, you wouldn’t notice anything.

Unless you were a demon.

There was still a hint of DESIRE within.

Inky flies into the cloud, digging through the white mass until…A ship. It’s crawling with all sorts of unsavory characters… But there seems to be a few females on board, so you can’t lure them with the promise of sex…well, you can, but present experiences have taught you it shouldn’t be your go to offer.

Gotta play hard to get.

You even spot a small, effeminate, equint walking about as if he’d had something up his ass.

…

Maybe you can call dibs?

Inky caws in delight and lands on the stern. You see a harpy at the helm, staring into an image projected by a glowing crystal. It shows the surroundings.

“This artifact we nabbed from the Empire before it all went to shit is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to us.” The airship turns and the cloud follows. “That ship over there is twice the size of this one…probably has goods. It may have been the Empire’s once, but that’s definitely a pirate flag…no, privateer. Seems risky. Especially if I don’t know what’s on it.”

“Gold.”

The harpy jumped and turned around, saber unsheathed.

“Who said that!?” He spots Inky.

“It was me. Don’t worry, I want to help you.”

“A crow?”

“A puppet. And a chance for you to get lucky.”

He lowers his saber and beckons a curious harpy over to take the wheel.

“I’m listening.”

“That ship has a lot of cargo. It isn’t just the pride of the now defunct empire’s fleet; it also holds good pirates smuggled on board when they took it. It may look like it’s busy, but they’re still hurting from the attack a month ago.”

“Still…it looks like a tough target. I only have about four hundred men.”

“I’ll help you. As you can see, I’m quite adept at magic. When they first notice you, I’ll attack from the inside. There’s only about six hundred of them, and more than half are still recovering from their injuries.”

The harpy scratched his goiter.

“Sounds like a high risk, high reward deal. What do you gain out of this?”

“Freedom for some kindred spirits. You can take the loot, and the ship. I only want you to escort them back to the mainland. We can discuss further payment when we succeed. I only have two conditions. If you find a giant minotaur, don’t kill him. Injuring him is fine, but I want him to myself.”

“A grudge, eh? I won’t stand in the way of a man's vengeance.”

Tsk. Sure, whatever.

You actually plan to bring Saw to your little dimension so you can enjoy him yourself. Maybe see if your daughter wants a piece as well.

“And if you see some dickless, piece of shit, eunuch harpy, kill him. He’ll probably surrender, offering gold and pretty words. If so, you can beat him senseless. If he’s still alive, throw him in the brig.”

“Seems risky…”

uh-oh.

“I like it! First Mate, we’re getting ourselves a first-class galleon. Set a course!” The shrouded ship starts sneaking up on your ship. “Thanks for the heads-up! I’m Rusty.”

“And I’m Quinn. You’ll know me when you see me.”

Back in your real body, Glascow just chained your most recent spawn, Emancipation, on the last open spot. He smiles at the full brig and locks the door behind him.

“Looks like the captain and I will be handsomely rewarded.”

You didn’t rise to the bait. He could only see your glowering green eyes from the darkest part of the brig. He shrugs and walks away. He doesn’t know that today…Is Emancipation’s day.

<They’re ten minutes out.

<So one thousand two hundred Modthrusts, Lord?

<You’ve already got a unit of measurement? We can use seconds and minutes you know?

<But you said it was a long story, Lady Quinn. We decided to use units that we could all understand. We even came up with a more precise unit. The Viothrust takes place three hundred times within a single ‘minute’, and eighteen thousand times in an Inception.

<…Okay, we’ll talk about units of measurement when we actually get to civilization. Don’t get too attached.

At the five-minute mark, you send the signal. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday break out of their chains with bursts of black magic. They’ve come very far. You’ve even learned from them. You didn’t even know telekinesis was a thing! Dark magic is the best. Except when it comes to breaking holy chains. Which is why you have an extra five minutes.

The women are getting hopeful, but are trying not to fidget around too much. Even Grim, although she does look like she ate shit.

Sunday and Monday work on your chains while the others free the rest. Sunday lost his cool for a bit and tried to rip the chains with his bare hands when magic didn’t have any effect. His skin sizzled and smoked, but he only grimaced through the pain. You’re pretty thankful that he didn’t burst into flame.

“Both of you work together. Make two wrenches. Remember when I talked about levers?”

The two nod and make two wrenches out of magic. In one swift moment, they bring the two in a chain-link. They frown as the holy chains melt the magic, but they repair it as fast as it dissipates. They push the two wrenches together and the link buckles…

And finally breaks.

Freedom!

Their combined magic is not equal to what you can release with one hand, even as destabilizing as the chains are on your magic. As they work to release your other hand, you break free your legs from the chains with a pair of summoned pliers.

Your telekinesis is a bit shaky, but you get by. And your telekinetic force only sent the pliers into the wall twice! You should focus on precision. You stand tall for the first time in a month. Energy suffuses throughout you. You spread your wings wide and giggle in happiness.

“All of you, free the women. Less than thirty seconds until Rusty attacks.”

Your demons rush to free the women by breaking their chains. You personally free Grim. She stares into your eyes unashamedly. There’s a commotion starting above. From Inky’s perspective, Rusty and his crew have boarded from seemingly nowhere. You control Inky, Blinky, Pinkie, Clyde, and Pac at the same time, pecking out eyes of Claw’s crew. You have to act quickly to get in the action. You could quickly teach your demons how to get to your personal hell, but then you’d be leaving the women defenseless.

“Sunday, Monday, you two are in charge of protecting the women. Stay below deck. Are there any volunteers to help them?” Tuesday, Thursday, January, March, November, and Emancipation raise their hands. “Good. Now to call a few helpers.”

You summon Cloth, Latch, and Tropo, and they appear in front of you. The other demons are surprised, but roll with it.

“You three follow the orders of Sunday and Monday over there, to protect the women.”

“Lord, are there any others of our kind?” Wednesday asks.

“No, that’s everyone. You are the first incubi and succubi I’ve created.” A few of them wore expressions of pride.

“Now, it’s time for the rest of you to go where they came from. Don’t try to come back, only a few of you have wings and you’ll only appear where you left unless I summon you.”

“Where are we going, Lady?”

“To a safe haven. Now go.”

You put your hand on each of their heads and willed them to go there. One by one, they disappear. Sunday and Monday nod and took the remaining demons and leave the brig. You take a deep breath.

It’s go time.