The Witches Of Breest-Milk

Hey, beautiful, how you doin?

I said to the particularly dapper hound-dawg in the bathroom mirror who smirked in return and looked back at me with handsome abandon.

I gave myself a wink then a cheeky slap in the flanks and chased myself out of there and downstairs to join the family.

I was remarkably un-hungover today and it was a strange feeling. I wasn't sure what to make of it, it seemed to be breaking the unwritten law of Sundays.

With a fruity flair, I swung open the door to the lounge. Perhaps if the children were pre-occupied I could give the Good Lady a thorough coshing with the pastrami panini?

So many choices when not hungover.

My amorous hopes were dashed as I entered and saw Olette, the Good Lady's Doula friend and business partner.

Ah, Olette. You are looking splendid today? Have you washed your hair?

I said dashingly as if she were a herd of small mountain goats and I a grizzled old shepherd with a harmonica.

No. I have not.

Replied Olette in that humourless way of hers.

Ah, it must have been the way the light was shining on it.

Damn, hair compliment failure. That was pretty much a sure-fire success 100% of the time. Except this time. I gave her a scan for something else I could say that was nice.

And then I saw the pendant on her neck.

It was a complex nest-like series of wires and in the middle of the nest was a large and pearly white orb. There was something about it.

I peered closer at it and it seemed to glow with an eldritch light becoming bigger and bigger in my vision until all I could see was its pearlescent surface.

I felt my mannity leaking out of me like I was an old sieve. In between visions of women carrying water from a stream, feeding children and building a barn, I heard a wolf howl.

An odd Burrkkk noise escaped from my lips.

You like it?

Olette's husky voice snapped me out of the pendant's spell.

Huh?

I tore my gaze away and instantly felt my penis roar in fury at the witchery that was afoot.

You like the pendant?

Olette asked again, a wicked gleam in her eye.

S'alright. What is it? Witch-Stone? Elf-Garnet?

The Good Lady at that point came in from the kitchen, coffees in her hands.

It's breast milk Daddy-Bear, I was thinking of getting one done myself.

HEE-HAW... HEE_HAW?!?!

I brayed like a donkey.

Breast milk?! Why? For all that is sweet and holy, WHY?! And how?! How the fuck does it stay in? Shouldn't it just drip out?

Olette Moved closer to me and lifted the pendant up so I could see it.

It glistened like oil in her hands. Witch oil.

It is treated with resin. It becomes quite hard and can be shaped. I actually make them, it takes a long time. With breast milk jewellery a woman can mark the memories of her journey and forever keep something close even closer, forever.

The pair of them were looking at me challengingly.

I looked back and narrowed my eyes.

So, you can make the breast milk hard enough to shape by adding resin?

I asked.

Yes.

They chorused proudly.

Could you do it with sperms?

I grinned maliciously.

Olette flinched.

Oh, Daddy-Bear, must you always bring the tone down?!

The Good Lady grumbled.

I can even hand deliver!!

I laughed like a musketeer and went off to make breakfast with a spring in my step.