Disclaimer: This story was posted anonymously. Attempts to find the original author have been met with failure. I take no credit.
The glow of the laptop screen was comforting.
That’s exactly what I needed right now: some comfort.
I had been away from my family for a long time, the college I wanted to go to being out of state and all, but I finally had saved up enough for a little vacation back to my hometown. RapeHound Buses™ weren’t actually all that cheap as it turned out. Regardless, mom and dad were both ecstatic when I arrived, unannounced, at their doorstep.
It was good to see them again, my dad had finally made the plunge into incubus-y, my mom didn’t look a day older from when I left. Her grin was still unsettling as always, but what can you expect from a Manticore? I knew her heart was in the right place, even if she would continually slip in weird sexually-oriented jokes into our conversations. She had eyes for only one man, which is funny, considering even as an Incubus my dad was about the biggest prude in existence. I don’t know how they got along so well.
That’s not what bothered me though. My dad had already spent extensive time explaining to me whatever happenings had gone on in town while I was away, I knew most of it already in letters we sent back and forth, but it was still good just to talk about some of the stuff I had missed. My mom would interrupt every so often to ask how I was doing was at the university – she was keenly focused on whether or not I had gotten a girlfriend.
I told her that I had been fooling around, nothing serious. In reality I had avoided all contact with Mamono, but I couldn’t let her know that. I mean, what man is so pathetic that he can’t bag a girl in a world where they’re literally asking to jump on your dick? Demanding, even?
I knew she could tell; my mom always had a good sense for when I was fibbing, but she could also probably taste the scent of unadulterated virgin on me.
It wasn’t my fault. I had a deep, intense fear of monster girls. I couldn’t really explain it if somebody asked – it was something about the way they carried themselves, the inhuman parts and mannerisms, the sexual magics and aphrodisiacs: it was all just repulsing to me. Not so much in the sexual sense, it was by nature very much the opposite, but in that ‘I can’t really accept that society can exist in this state of degeneracy’ sense. Maybe I was just a coward. I have always had a penchant for anxiety.
College was part hell part paradise. It was great to finally connect to people that I could wrest the connections and lessons that would see me through my life and career. I didn’t have any problem making regular, human friends. Regrettably college wasn’t just composed of humans: it was full of those beastly perverted monsters. Agony was waking up early in the morning and ducking and diving through the dorms and campus, avoiding the throngs of those.. deviants.. on my way to class. Class was no sanctuary, but at least the teacher was expected to keep some semblance of order. If the teacher was a monster girl herself… I didn’t take those classes. It made for patchy coursework, I can tell you that.
I heard the front door opening and closing behind me during my conversation with my parents, but I didn’t actually turn around to acknowledge the entering person until I heard her voice and the clattering of a dropped bag.
“Oh my fallen god, big bro, you’re back!”
Standing there was a girl I knew very well, but had tucked in the back of my mind for a reason.
“Oh Jackie, isn’t it wonderful?” My mother intoned, she quickly added “Why don’t you join us in interrogating him about his college life?”
My sister looked bright and happy “Yeah, I-” her expression changed to something less happy, something like forced ambivalence “I mean whatever. It’s not like I really care.”
She picked up her bag and turned, walking off into the kitchen. My mother looked annoyed as she turned to me.
“Sorry, your sister’s still going through that teenage phase of thinking-” Her voice got louder “-hopefully, she’ll snap out of it soon.” I think I heard a low reply from the kitchen. It sounded mean.
I just smirked. Nobody else in the room knew it, but at this point I was extremely nervous. I had made it my goal to avoid contact with Mamono since like middle school, my mother and sister being the only exceptions, and seeing my sister grow up from that young, innocent girl was like a kick to the teeth. How old was she? 17? Damn, I really have been disconnected from this place. It’s a good thing I hadn’t mustered up enough courage to look at her well, otherwise I might really be start feeling bad. I’m not sure I could look her in the face, not after all these years of being away. Damn my cowardice.
My sister returned to the room with a glass of milk in hand (At least, I hoped it was milk), grabbed some papers off the coffee table, and started to walk towards the stairs.
My mother was pissed, you could tell because her grin had receded to the point where it was almost, -almost- gone. She also almost never used Jackie’s full name. Dad just shook his head.
“Aren’t you going to say hello to your brother? It’s been years since the two of you last spoke!”
My sister turned but didn’t really acknowledge mom.
“Sorry, but I have homework that needs to be done.” She was staring at me, her mask of ambivalence slipping off, slightly “It’s nice to see you though, bro.”
I gathered the courage to really look at her. She was obviously taller from when we younger, a lot taller – probably almost my height. Her form was lithe and athletic (she had always been into sports): very unlike my mother who had always been all curvy and soft. She was dressed up like a typical teenage girl, torn and raggy jeans that were probably a size too small going off of how tightly they clung, coupled with some dumb graphic tee shirt that also clung to her body, more specifically, her chest. Her breasts weren’t big per se, definitely not big as mom’s, but they had enough to them that she was proud of it. I noticed that cursed appendage that is the symbol of a manticore flicking back and forth behind her. I realized she was aware of my checking her out, because her tail flicked up and down in a mockery of a wave at me. She grinned as I looked her in the face, and my heart froze. She wasn’t a spitting image of mom; her face was a little more angular and her hair was done back into a ponytail, but she was very pretty.
The grin though, that was exactly like mom’s.
“N-Nice to see you too Jackie” I tried to sound amiable but something about her look made me feel trapped. And then it was gone.
She was gone. Off and up the stairs in a heartbeat.
My mother sighed. My dad just rubbed her shoulder and whispered something in her ear. Probably something comforting.
Huh. So that was my darling, innocent little sister. That was what she had turned into.
So that brings us to where we are now, with me in front of my laptop, shitposting on /mgq/ about how everyone’s waifu a shit. Fuck those monsterfucking meat dildos and their broken pelvises.
I was lying on the coach that I was sweating bullets in earlier, covered in a blanket. All it took was a little coaxing – a picture of a Futa Cheshire here, some complaints about somebody’s writing there – and the thread turned into a shitstorm. I was happy though: mom had taken a surprising turn of mood after we had continued our discussion. I guess she was going out that evening for a surprise dinner date with dad. It was evidently a surprise because dad had no warning of this up until my mother told him. There was something in her happiness that seemed genuine, I think. She said she was going to talk to Jackie about her attitude, as she went upstairs. I didn’t hear any yelling then, so I guess things didn’t go catastrophic.
It was strange that my parents rushed so much to leave the house. Well, my mother was rushing anyways: my dad seemed to be protesting something, but after a period of vicious henpecking he was dragged out the front door as my mom waved her goodbyes. Dad just gave me a sad look with those gold and black irises of his. Man he was soo whipped.
Being back home AND having it to myself was pretty nice, it gave me time to reminisce and inject myself back into the life here. I wasn’t really alone with Jackie still being in the house, but she hadn’t come out of her room since mom went up. It’s probably a good thing: I don’t know what I’d do if I had to actually BE with her for an extended period of time without anybody else here to save me. There’s no way I could save face then, I’d be an awkward mess.
Mom was right though, it had been forever since we hung out, since we lived together. But back then I wasn’t socially inept and she was just a little manticore who hadn’t yet discovered sex.
I remember the day she was born. My mother let me hold her – I was so amazed seeing her fluffy paws and little inoperable pink tail. My 8 year old self didn’t understand why she had these things, at least, not that their purpose was to hold down and extract semen from men. Then she got a little older and started to walk (which wasn’t a big deal), figured out how to move and use her tail (which was a big deal), she’d go around batting at things with it and sucking on people’s fingers and the like. I thought it was cool then, and we’d play games with each other using her tail and our imagination. My favorite was when she’d pretend her tail is a dragon and i’d use my community knight action figure to try and slay it. Sometimes I would ‘win’ and she’d make it go limp and pretend that it was dead, sometimes she would ‘win’ and snatch up the paladin to then run off making me chase her to get it back.
It was never sexual. Back then we were just older brother and little sister, inseparable. Anybody that would mess with her, and I mean anybody, I’d put straight. Human or otherwise.
Then I got older, hit that point where I no longer wanted to be associated with anybody younger than me, and we stopped. She’d still want to play, sometimes I would just to stop her whining, other times i’d pick on her. My perspective on the tail changed as I learned all about its purpose in Sex Ed class, it was no longer a cool thing. It was gross.
It only got worse when she started developing as a monster. Her tail made her feel ‘funny’, as she’d tell me. She had no understanding of lust, even as she’d suck on a chair arm rest with her tail pussy and ride out an orgasm. Mom, being the unabashedly lewd individual she was and still is, would tell her that it was merely a natural motivation to use it. It made her feel good, so the tail was a good thing. I knew better, I kept that tail away from my fingers and especially away from my beloved action figure. It crushed her heart that she could no longer play dragon, but I didn’t care.
Unintentionally, I made up for it in a bout of teasing – when I took up a marker and drew on the fleshy ending nub of her tail with sharpy. I guess I had a bad sense of humor even then cause I drew eyes and a mustache on the thing, and told her it was now ‘Mr. Happy’. She didn’t know that I was making fun of her – she took it seriously. For the rest of my life up until I graduated high school she would parade about with her new ‘best friend’, using it to do everything instead of her hands. I inadvertently caused hundreds upon hundreds of misunderstood adolescent orgasms. My mother thought it was absolutely adorable, I thought it was repulsive and annoying.
And then I left and no longer had to deal with it. At first I was happy. Now I just kind of feel a regret like maybe I could handled my little sister and my life in general better. Maybe I wouldn’t have this phobia of monstergirls.
I shut my laptop and turned over on the coach, pulling the cover over my head. Sleep would probably be a good thing right now. Shouldn’t just spend the whole night thinking over my life while shitposting.
Besides, that’s long in the past. Years ago. I can’t do anything to change it.
Man it’s quiet. You ever think about how true silence is actually deafening? White noise you can drown out in the pursuit of sleep, but the complete absence of noise itself is kind of disturbing in its own way.
Ah fuck it i’m going to shitpost some more.
As I pulled the cover from my head and opened my laptop back open, I felt odd. Not just regretful, but nervous again. Maybe it was getting to me, all this history being brought back up. As I thought about it, I considered my sister just today. Something in that look definitely made me feel nervous.
I’ll apologize tomorrow morning, or something. For being distant all these years. She certainly didn’t seem that angry at ME earlier, but it can’t hurt. I just want my little sister back.
I started to type out another post about how monstergirls are the scum of the earth and then stopped. Something was off.
The hair was standing on the back of my neck.
I felt large, padded paw grip my shoulders and I suddenly knew.
I knew why mom had left in such a haste, why she seemed so happy. I knew why it was dead silent, why I felt so nervous.
I knew what that grin meant.
“Hey big bro~ Wat’cha doing?”
The words whispered in my ear were as constricting as the paws placed on me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breath.
“I haven’t seen you in…forever” More honeyed words found their way into my fragile state, my sensitive ear.
“I’m sorry for not saying hi earlier, but I figured we’d have plenty of time to catch up…”
Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around.
Sadly, that’s just what she wanted.
I saw it. Somehow even greater fear gripped my heart, if that was possible.
It’s here and it’s in front of me, back and forth, swinging like a pendulum, blocking out the light of the computer. Waiting to strike.
That bastard had returned.
“Of course, i’m not the only one who wants to get reacquainted with you.”
Don’t say it.
It lurched forward slowly before stopping in the most terrifying spot it could, in front my face. Eye to eye with the beast.
With the dragon.
“Mr. Happy says hello~”
The beast’s leer bore into me, despite the lack of sharpy eyes.
A shriek rang through our family abode that evening, probably most of the neighborhood as well. It went unanswered.
In that night, I made up for all the years of teasing and then some.32568 Views
2 thoughts on “Mr. Happy and Friends”
This is my favourite story of all time.
I’d love to do a sequel one day.
I think the original the step-mom was an ushii-oni and they’d adopted the manticore, but I could be wrong.