The Truth

In the late 1500’s there was a man of noble birth, but ignoble taste.

A third son, the man was often left to his own devices while his older brothers were groomed to inherit and marry well. Little was expected of him from birth, and as he grew into manhood what little expectations were left shrank. The man spent his youth frequenting brothels all over central Europe, spending more time in the company of prostitutes than he did those of his station, and rumors of his behavior left a stain on his reputation.

His appetite was voracious and varied, rarely calling on the same woman twice, if it was even a woman he called on. While not ostensibly looking for something, eventually in a modest establishment in a dark corner of the continent he found something that would change his life forward.

A prostitute with both the genitals of a man and a woman.

The story goes he fell in love with her at first sight, or at least the first time he saw her in the nude. He paid to spend a fortnight with her, and indeed they spent the whole of the time together. But a fortnight was not enough, and with a bit of convincing, and a lot of coin, he secured the woman as a personal concubine.

His whoring stopped, this impossible woman seemingly enough for the once relentless rake. Seemingly. While he had found a new delicacy, his appetite changing, his hunger remained the same. The woman in tow, he began a pilgrimage across Europe, searching high and low. She couldn't have been the only one, and he sought more.

Years passed. The man’s search became an obsession. Europe was not enough, he would soon learn. His search expanded to Asia, Africa, finally ending in the new world. Not young anymore, the exhausted man decided he must settle if he were to ever enjoy the fruits of his labors.

The fruits being a small collection of women from around the world.

Coveting them, fearful his prizes would be stolen, he settled deep into unclaimed lands. His fortune had grown over his travels, becoming something of a trader accidentally while moving about the known world. With these funds he built a great mansion to house his harem, and a small town popped up nearby as it was being raised. The town would persist after its completion, serving as a home to many in the man’s employ.

But he was one man, and his harem had an appetite he alone could not fulfill. They would often lay with each other, but on occasion a curious serving girl would find herself in their chambers. On occasion, one or more would slip from the manner in the dead of night, returning with their balls drained and womanhoods filled. As the man grew older, the women grew bolder, eventually inviting young men and women openly to their homes.

For years, the girls were thought to be sterile, none having found themselves with child, or siring any, despite the debauchery they lived in. Until one day, something changed.

Why it changed is uncertain. Something about them being together, gathered, sharing a space, sharing beds, sharing everything triggered an impossible response. A quirk of evolution perhaps. A pheromonal response maybe. Or maybe god just decides to intervene.

The first pregnancy was considered a miracle. The others, unthinkable.

All of the women ended up pregnant. Not all carried to term, but several did. At the same time, a curious string of pregnancies in town began to crop up, many to be born bastards, but several unplanned babies were born to families. This boom of children produced mostly healthy boys and girls, but more than one was born of this new mixed sex.

The man lived long enough to see what he had wrought, but before the full scope of his work could be truly understood. These mixed children were not like the mothers that bore or sired them. They were different. Balanced. Complete. Once they reached adulthood, they became hauntingly beautiful almost to a one. They could become pregnant and impregnate freely, no sign of the once sterile nature of their mothers, with appetites that made the previous generation seem chaste. Not all of their children would be like them. Many, like the generation before, would be born mono sexed, but the next generation would reveal new truths.

The quirks of their procreation would be numerous and widespread. The condition could skip a generation, or two on occasion, many a child born of mixed sex from monosexed parents. As generations passed, the inherited genetic abnormality, dormant in many of the population, would mutate and cause curious hormonal imbalances. These mutations had unpredictable effects, causing many to mature in unforeseeable directions. Most were harmless, but served as evidence of their bloodline.

Time marched on.

The manor and its inhabitants were bones, but the seeds they sowed in the town had grown. Green Valley persisted, and so did their genes. Those of mixed sex dwell in the village still, protected from the rest of the world by their kin and folk.

Secret and safe.