Chapter Three- Foxy Mama and her Cubs

Vampire Crayons

Two Months Earlier

I knew my mother was low but never was I aware how low she could be, I thought as I watched my mother cling to the master of the house. She'd hidden me in the spacious him-and-her closet beside the bed while she 'worked her magic' on the man who'd sired me sixteen years ago. Having me witness this, as mother put it, was kind of like a passing of knowledge or a right of passage between the older generations to the next. Currently she was demonstrating the Kumiho's divine persuasion.

She slowly trailed a manicured hand along the master's trembling leg, tactfully grazing all the sensitive areas as she would explain to me later. Slyly throwing a wink to the closet doors, she swung the leg farthest away from the master over his lap, like she was crossing her legs and purred gently into his ear, "I need a new diamond necklace, baby."

"B-but," he stammered. "You already have one."

She pouted her lips and snaked her tongue along the bottom of the lower one. "Yes, but that one is too long. When I wear it with my dresses it gets stuck right here…" she pushed her breasts together, emphasizing on the crease between them. "Rubbing against them and making them so sore I just want to lie around topless for an hour afterwards. You know how that feels right? Lying around topless… in the dark…" She leaned toward him so that the master, essentially a short man, came face to face with the subjects of this discussion.

His eyes opened wide as saucers while probably contemplating the enticing situation he was in, completely unaware of where I sat spying on them from a crack between the closet doors. "Hurts… hurts you say?"

"Mmm!" She moaned. "Oh! Just thinking about it now makes me hurt so much. Oh, baby, will you rub them for me? Maybe even kiss them? Please?"

His hand reached out tentatively to land on her skin, breathing heavily now. Mother smiled devilishly as she used one hand to prop his chin up so that his eyes could lock on hers. Skin on skin and eye to eye was the proper contact for glamorizing any Kumiho victim.

"Buy me a new diamond necklace," She commanded.

"Yes," he replied all too happily. "Anything for you."

"Will you offer me your blood?" In immediate response he lifted his neck for her and barely flinched when her bite pierced his skin. I heard the sucking nose of my mother drawing out her sustenance and the pleasured groans of the master as the endorphins from her saliva flooded his system. When finished mother licked the wounds closed and slid temporarily away from his light embrace.

She rubbed her upper body against him, breaking the trance between them. I saw her eyes flicker to me— the signal that it was now time for me to leave them. And stealthily I did so, sliding quietly out both doors to the dimly lit hallways dumbfounded by what I had just seen.

Should I have been surprised at what went on in the master's bedroom? I wasn't worried about them being caught, the two of them were a household known couple, and the wife slept in her own chambers, careless of what her arranged-marriage husband did in his spare time. But the idea that we must act like a succubus to get what we need was, well, perverse…

I heard him before I saw him, Stephan, the master's full-fledged child as he spat the usual sneering words at me. "What are you doing here, Hana?" He felt I was far enough below him not to deserve any sort of honorifics.

I busied my eyes with the floor and replied calmly. "Mother wanted me to visit Master-dono with her, Stephan-san." Stephan had been given a western name due to his mother's cultural background and had a strange kind of look to him between a blend of Japanese and British. His eyes were slanted and thin and lips puckered like his fathers, but his nose was much too large and curved and hair like a giant curly poof atop his head, obviously inherited from the other side of the family. I, unlike him, looked very much so alike my mother, as all Kumiho do, with traditional Japanese beauty looks designed while in the womb to entice our prey.

"I suppose you think you have rights to visit my father, after all you are his illegitimate child. And that you must remember: that you are only a mistress's daughter and you mean nothing to this family."

"You seem to say the same things to me every time we meet. Is it because your father prefers my company— are you jealous? Is spending afternoons with your fanatical mother less than pleasing? Or do you want something else, per say time alone with my mother? I understand, like father like son… No, Stephan-san you need not tell me again for I want just as much to be in this family as you want me here. But my mother does want to be here, and I support my mother. To me you and your warnings are of little importance."

He drew back like he'd just been snapped by a horse whip. Instantly after making the connection a memory unfurled itself. I remembered Stephan and me as little kids, as close as the two strings used to tie a knot. We had played in the family horse stables and had once decided to battle with the short whips, unknowingly of the danger they posed. As a result Stephan was left with a little scar just above his left ear, the only reminder of the days we'd actually spent together in somewhat harmony.

"Don't say those things to me!" He tried to come back. "You're just the spawn of a whore! Both you and your mother are dirty!" He flipped me off with his finger.

Ignoring him I dragged my feet along until I arrived at my bedroom. I shut the door behind me and flopped on the large bed. My room was adjacent to my mother's; the door connected both chambers proved to be very convenient when neither fox women could sleep during the night.

I felt moisture thicken in my eyes, it budded at the edges of my eyelids threatening to spill over. I wondered why in the hell mother thought it was okay to show me everything that way, and pondered over the fact that she two might've been taught that way. There was no definite way to know, and I most assuredly would not ask mother herself. Grandfather Kumiho might know. But there was no time or energy left for me to make that phone call.

I pushed all things from my mind: Mother, the Master, Stephan, Grandfather, and anything relative to the Kumiho. Still relaxation would not come. Maybe hours, maybe only minutes passed until I heard the knock on the midway door.

Mother wasted no time waiting for me to get up and welcome her in. She simply pulled it open and stood there in her fussed up hair and bedraggled clothes smiling cheekily. "My little Hana," she said fondly.