Brood of the Witch-Queen: Futa Twist

WARNING: Contains SPOILERS for the book!

I recently read Brood of the Witch-Queen (link to book on wikisource), it’s a fun supernatural horror romp from 1918. There was a lot of it I enjoyed but I was a bit annoyed that the author constantly referred to how despicable the villain was because of his woman-like features.

There was this one scene, that happens ‘off-screen’, where the villain of the book asks his step-sister to marry him and she refuses, saying she’d always think of him as a brother. That’s fair enough, but I wished that Myra had had more agency in the book, or just that she was a fully fleshed out character with wants and desires.

I suppose those two things led me to wonder how things would have gone if things were just a little bit different, which then led me to write this:

Myra read the telegram quickly and then crumpled it up into a tight little ball.

“Bad news, m’dear?” her guardian, Mr. Saunderson, asked from across the luncheon table.

Myra shook her head and slowly smoothed out the telegram to read it through a second time.

“Jolly good. Anyway, as I was saying, that young Jameson has some new bulbs. Thought I’d take the train up and see him this afternoon.”

Myra nodded without looking at him; she had heard her guardian talking about his orchids far too often to pay much attention, especially just now. Not when she had a message from her step-sister spread out on the table in front of her. Antonia had just arrived back in England and intended to visit Myra at once.

“Young Cairn was asking about you again,” Mr. Saunderson said, giving Myra a heavy look. Mr. Cairn had not yet declared himself but there was no mistaking his intentions. It would be an utterly respectable arrangement. The Scotsman was handsome, intelligent and kind. Their fathers had been friends. He was the type of man that Myra should want.

***

That afternoon, after her guardian had left, Myra found herself on tenterhooks. Her step-sister always had this effect on her. Now that their father was dead they were the only true family left to each other.

Myra was in the green house, surrounded by orchids when her step-sister finally arrived.

Antonia wore men’s clothes, the curve of her bosom unmistakable beneath her suit as she stood in the doorway, pausing before stepping into the greenhouse. Myra caught sight of her at once, her eyes lowering to the bulge in her trousers that marked Antonia for what she was. Myra had never understood what had drawn her father to adopt the futa woman but she was intensely grateful that he had.

“Myra,” Antonia called out, “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.”

There was a glint in Antonia’s piercing dark eyes, a steely determination to her that set her apart from everyone. Myra knew that other people disliked her step-sister. Certainly Mr. Cairn seemed to outright hate Antonia, but Myra had never felt anything but love for her.

“Antonia,” Myra exclaimed, went forward to kiss her on the cheek. Antonia’s tanned skin looked darker after her trip and it was soft under Myra’s lips. She didn’t linger though. “How was Egypt? Did you find what you were looking for?”

Antonia smiled, a teasing look that Myra knew meant she wouldn’t get a straight answer.

Antonia, just like their father, had always been fascinated with Egypt, spending countless hours pursuing knowledge of Ancient mysticism. Her sister was secretive in her studies, but Myra knew how much her sister was drawn to such things.

“What could I be looking for that isn’t right in front of me?” Antonia hedged, slinging an arm around Myra’s waist. Her sister was not a demonstrative woman and the easy affection was unexpected, although not unwelcome. Myra tilted her head back to look her sister in the eye.

“Don’t tease, Antonia. Anyway, rumour is that you are in love with Lady Lashmore.”

“Oh,” Antonia hummed, her arm falling away and making Myra regret mentioning the widow’s name. She knew that Lady Lashmore was very rich and her sister had a taste for luxury. “I think I’ve seen the last of her. Speaking of rumours, the gossips have you practically married to Robert Cairn.”

Myra turned away, feeling oddly bereft without Antonia’s hand to keep her in place. “Do they?”

“Indeed they do. The mutterings are so loud I heard them all the way from Egypt.”

Myra walked down the central aisle of the greenhouse and turned aside, stopping at Mr. Saunderson’s workbench, kept clean and tidy so that he could attend to his plants there. She lay her hands on the wood, her back still to her sister. “I suppose you’ve returned for the wedding then.”

“It’s true?” Antonia asked in an incredulous tone. Her next words were heavy with scorn; “You intend to marry him?”

“He hasn’t asked me. It would be a respectable match if he did,” she turned her head to peek at her sister’s reaction.

Antonia’s eyes lit up with a wild glee that bordered on feral. She approached Myra, each step marked by the heavy crunch of man’s boots.

“Then there is hope for someone else?”

Myra couldn’t hide her startled gasp. “You sound as if you had someone else in mind.”

Antonia stopped in front of her, her large hands coming to rest on the workbench, one on either side of Myra, pinning her in place. It was the sort of position which they might have got into as children at play but it was hardly decent now they were adults.

“You have always been very dear to me, Myra. I know you have always loved me as a sister, but I have hopes that you might, one day, love me in a different way.”

“Antonia,” she breathed out in astonishment.

“Do you,” Antonia leaned closer, pressing against her so their bosoms touched, “think you might?”

“I…I didn’t realise you felt this way,” Myra breathed out, feeling almost light-headed with desire. This was everything she’d secretly hoped Antonia would one day say to her and now that it was actually happening she was too overwhelmed to know what to say.

She’d spent so long being jealous of every woman her sister looked at. Forced to stand aside, knowing that Antonia would never look at her with that same expression of admiration. Except now Antonia was right in front of her and Antonia’s dark gaze was entirely amorous.

Antonia lowered her face, nuzzling along the side of Myra’s head so that she felt the tip of Antonia’s nose along the shell of her ear and then down along her neck. The heat of Antonia’s breath rippled against her skin.

“What do you say, Myra? Will you have me?”

“Have you…” Myra echoed distantly. She put the flat of her hand on Antonia’s hip, not sure if she should push her away or not. Their position was hardly seemly, but there was no-one to see them and they were alone in the house this afternoon.

“Hmm,” Antonia’s lips brushed against her neck, sending a shiver through her. She felt she might come undone if Antonia kept talking like this. “Will you marry me?”

“You want me?” Myra asked. She’d been so sure that Antonia had never shared this shameful attraction.

Antonia pulled back to examine Myra’s face. Whatever expression she saw there made her grin, taking it as permission for what she did next. She pressed her mouth to Myra’s in a demanding, un-sisterly kiss.

It was overwhelming, her blood roared in her veins and her knees nearly buckled. She felt like she was losing herself in sensation and it was the reason she allowed what happened next. Antonia pushed her backwards, so that Myra had to stop herself from tumbling onto the workbench below. Somehow, as they moved, Myra’s hand dipped down from Antonia’s stomach and cupped her manhood. It was an innocent mistake but she was so shocked by what she was touching that her hand lingered there, for Antonia was entirely hard.

She’d spent so long considering this part of her sister’s anatomy, although she had never thought she would touch it. Antonia’s body was so different from her own, and the alien strangeness of it made her break their kiss. Her concentration was on what lay beneath her fingers.

“I do believe,” Antonia’s voice pitched low enough to send a shudder along Myra’s spine, “that you have been keeping secrets from me, Myra.”

Myra felt like she’d been caught, so frozen with shame that her exploration halted. There were other rumours about her sister, that she was, as Mr Cairn phrased it: popular with the ladies. Myra had no doubt that her sister was far from inexperienced.

With that thought in mind, she plucked up her courage and touched her sister’s cockstand more firmly, letting herself feel the scope of it, the size of it. Antonia let out a chuckle that turned into a delighted moan.

“Sister,” Myra whispered, she wanted to know how long Antonia had shared this deviant attraction but before she could ask Antonia was kissing her again. This time Antonia’s tongue plunged into her mouth, forceful and possessive. They were crossing a line that Myra had never dared imagine. She knew polite society would entirely shun her for it but could not bring herself to regret it.

The kiss ended and Antonia pulled back only slightly to whisper in honeyed tones, “you’re mine now, aren’t you, sister?”

“Yours,” Myra whispered back, coy of giving away how long she’d pined for Antonia’s attentions.
Antonia cupped Myra’s cheek in her hand, her strong thumb caressing her lips, rubbing back and forth over them posessively.

“We’ll marry of course,” Antonia said, her glee only just held in check.

In the privacy of Myra’s head, a voice that sounded like Robert Cairn’s said bitterly that Antonia only wanted her for her money, marrying meant she’d get all of their father’s fortune instead of merely half of it. Myra resolutely ignored it.

“I do love you, Antonia,” she said, looking into her sister’s dark eyes.

“Yes,” Antonia said with a wide smile, her eyes tracking her thumb on Myra’s mouth. “As I do you, of course.”

Then Antonia was kissing her again until her knees really did weaken and let herself be pressed against her guardian’s work bench, her legs spreading wide around Antonia’s hips. Society would not understand their union but Myra could not bring herself to care.