Interlude: The Fungible Fortune Tellers are Prognosticating
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Spetlamu had always had a fortune teller called Madame Sausages. It always would.

Sometimes the title would be handed down from mother to daughter, sometimes from teacher to pupil, sometimes from spirit guide to medium or from clone to clone, or just simply from a consciousness transmigrating into a younger body.

The line was unbroken but squiggly. How one Madame Sausages related to her predecessor could never be assumed.

The Sixteenth Madame Sausages was the bereaved wife of the Fifteenth Madame Sausages.

The Seventeenth Madame Sausages was the reincarnation of the Fourth Madame Sausages.

The Eighteenth Madame Sausages was the only daughter the Sixteenth Madame Sausages had liked.

The Nineteenth Madame Sausages was an imposter!!

The Twentieth Madame Sausages was the ghost of the First Madame Sausages (she had wanted to do something special for the round number). 

The Twenty-first came from an employment agency.

It was that sort of arrangement. The whole thing could have been very confusing except the villagers all agreed to treat every Madame Sausages as if they were the same person. They all looked the same anyway. Except the Seventeenth Madame Sausages who was an otter.

 


 

Hundreds of years ago, before Laura became a Dark Bride of the Notorious Vampire, the Burgrave Chevoy Vesh, back even before she became a vampire at all, her parents took her to Madame Sausages’ tent to have her Cards read.

“This is very good, very good,” said the fortune teller, consulting the Cards laid out before her, “Yes. The cards tell Madame Sausages all. Your daughter will live a long, long life and be a very powerful lesbian.”

Laura’s Mama and Papa gripped each other’s hands tightly in delight. What parent didn't want that for their child? She would surely be happier and safer.

Then the wise seer turned over the next bunch of Cards.

Madame Sausages’ face fell. The mood in the tent darkened.

“What is it? What do you see?” asked Laura’s Mama in alarm.

The fortune teller gestured at the newly uncovered Cards. A collapsing castle. A pear tree. A Dalek. A big pair of milk jugs. A bull. And a photorealistic drawing of a tight pink besthole.

“This is very bad, very bad,” said the fortune teller, “The cards give us a dire warning today. Pray to Chewy that we heed the cards.”

Laura’s Mama and Papa gasped in dismay. 

But Laura hadn't caught up.

"I’m gonna be a real powerful lesbian!" said the child proudly. Still back on the earlier good news. “Gonna lez up so good!”

Laura’s Papa leaned in close, "Wise Madame Sausages, what do these Spooky Cards warn?"

The fortune teller's ring-encrusted index finger tapped heavily on the card with the photorealistic drawing of a besthole. 

"An ill omen indeed," she confided. "Young lady, remove your panties."

Laura did as she was bade.

"Are you going to lez me up?" she giggled.

"Nay, child. Now hush… and spread your little ass cheeks wide."

Laura did as she was bade. Her parents turned white from the terrible shock of what they saw.

Laura’s besthole was exactly the same as the drawing on the card.

"Why it is hers! Her very own! It can be no other!" exclaimed Laura’s Mama.

Madame Sausages nodded slowly.

"Tis as I feared. Your child’s besthole is known to the cards. Tis no ordinary besthole she carries betwixt yon buttocks. Unto hers is attached prophecy."

"There’s a prophecy about my daughter’s anus?" clarified the Papa.

"There is now," said Madame S.

"Can I close my cheeks yet?"

"Do as ye must, but know this… the day anyone other than you penetrates your besthole, your entire family will be wiped off the Earth!"

The Mama threw her hands over her own face and began to sob.

The Papa leapt to his feet.

Laura didn’t understand what was happening but hated to see her parents so distraught.

Pulling her panties back up, she asked, "But Mama, Papa… I am to be a Great and Mighty Lesbian, am I not? I’ll be too busy getting my foof licked to worry about anal penetration."

"Foolish child!" said Madame Sausages, "Many lezzers love butt play."

"Foolish child!" said her Papa, "This prophecy also applies outside of sexual contexts. You’d equally doom your family with an enema or necessary medical rectal examination."

"Foolish child!" said her Mama, "Lesbian or not, this is Spetlamu. It's a rare girlie who grows up round here without being buttraped once or twice."

Laura’s whole family now were weeping and wailing in dread at the dark times ahead.

"I’m going to give you some leaflets. A little information pack," Madame Sausages explained, reaching into a drawer beneath her fortune telling table.

One was titled 'LIVING WITH A PROPHESIED BESTHOLE.'

"That one’s the most important,” said the wise seer, “If you look on page six there’s a nice diagram explaining how important it is that nobody else penetrate her with anything. It’s not just cock. That’s a mistake a lot of people with Prophesied Bestholes make. Anyone puts anything up there, whether it’s a thermometer, a tongue, or a Twix, then it’s game over."

"But I can put things up there myself?" said Laura.

"Go crazy, kid."

Laura’s Mama, who was a lawyer, thought about this.

"If someone wanted to assfuck her and she manually guided the phallus into the anal cavity herself…"

"Then you’d all be fine. Until that saucy someone made their first thrust, then the prophecy would kick in."

"How about licking around the besthole?" asked the Papa.

"Yeah, fine. Until that naughty little tongue tip slips in one millimetre deeper than it should. Then you’re all dead. It's covered on page eight of the leaflet."

"But what about…"

"But what about…"

"But what about…"

Madame Sausages sighed and cancelled her afternoon appointments. The technicalities were going to take some explaining and exploration. Which was fine, she supposed. Learning your child has a Prophesied Besthole is never easy to take on board, and the technicalities could be arcane. She wished Laura’s family were a little less hung up on those technicalities though.

Because when you got down to it, the situation couldn’t be simpler.

If anyone other than Laura ever inserted anything into her besthole, then whoever the Godfolk considered to be her family would be purged forever from linear time, the material world, and the Lands of Lust and Pain.

 


 

Centuries later, a later Madame Sausages met with Mr and Mrs Lever, a couple of young dairy farmers.

The Levers had no children at that point and were curious to know what to expect.

The current Madame Sausages, fourteen years old and very new to the job, was rubbing her Crystal Ball to get some facts. She hadn’t learned how to use the Cards yet.

The cloudy purple smoke inside the Crystal Ball cleared, to reveal the face of the Third Madame Sausages. It could have been the face of any of the Madames to be honest, except the reincarnated otter one, but the current Madame Sausages knew that this was the third Madame Sausages. Her spirit guide.

“Hello, Madame Sausages,” said the current Madame Sausages to the face within the sphere.

“Hello, Madame Sausages,” said the third Madame Sausages to the girl without the sphere.

The current Madame Sausages didn't really like hearing her name out loud. She thought it sounded childish and silly, because she had absolutely no way of knowing it was a clever reference to T.S. Eliot's 'The Waste Land', the greatest poem ever written and a cornerstone of Modernist literature.

Her conversation with the face in the purple smoke was happening in the secret language of Fortune Tellers. So Mr and Mrs Lever, sat right in front of the Crystal Ball, couldn’t follow any of it. Though they did both pick out the word ‘sausages.’

“What’re these two wanting to know?” asked Third Sausages.

“What kind of kids they’re gonna have.”

“You mean, like… if they’re gonna grow up happy? If there’s any prophecies about any part of their excretory system? What kinda jobs they’re gonna have?”

“Nah, just gender, I reckon,” said Current Sausages. 

The Third Madame Sausages sighed, rolled her eyes, and looked it up.

“Okay, so here’s what I found on the aetherial lifestream,” she offered, “There’re gonna have two kids. First one’s gonna be a girlie. Real girly girlie. Big titty, cute clitty, pretty slitty. Full of feminine urges.”

“Nice and simple,” said Current Sausages, “And the other kid?”

"Bit more complicated, the second child. She's gonna be a non-binary boy who uses she/her pronouns."

"Yeah, you're going to have to walk me through that a little ways," said Current Sausages, "If they're non-binary then they're not a boy or a girl, right? So how can they be a non-binary boy?"

"It's good that you're asking! There are lots of different reasons a non-binary person might also identify as a man or boy. Feeling 'aligned' with maleness in some way, wanting to reflect their male social experiences or presentation, being genderfluid or multigender with one of the genders being male. I can't see through the fogs of time clearly enough to know which it'll be for this little Enboy."

"Okay, gotcha. Sounds valid," said the current Madame Sausages.

Mr and Mrs Lever were looking at her expectantly. The deliberation over their future children's gender was taking a little longer than they thought.

"And what's the she/her pronouns all about then, if she's a non-binary boy?"

"Just what she likes really," said the spirit guide, "Like how some butch lesbians use he/him. With this kid it'll mostly just be for gender euphoria reasons. No big mystery or discourse. She'll just like she/her."

"Eh, I don't get it," said the current Madame Sausages. "I'm going to just tell these quasi-medieval dairy farmers they're gonna have two girls."

She turned to the Levers and, in the language of Forfeiture, said, "You're gonna have two girls."  

"You lazy fucking cunt," said the floating head in the Crystal Ball.

 


 

Later that same year, Mrs Lever gave birth to a baby with a cunny. She named her Tatiana.

Two years later she gave birth to a baby with a dick.

"Probably a trans girlie," Mr Lever thought, remembering Madame Sausages' lazy foretelling. 

"We'll just give them a unisex name and see how it goes," said Mrs Lever.

Sadly, Mrs Lever never would see how it went. She would never find out the true gender of her child. She would die of a medieval shitting disease a year before Nikola came out as a a non-binary boy who uses she/her pronouns. 

Coming up next time: Three Conventionally Attractive People Have Dub-Con Sex!!

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