It's a sleepover!

"Honey! I'm back! I've brought some guests!" Mr. Patterson calls as he leads you into his home. It's not far from the market where he has his stall; about two blocks away he stopped in front of what you would have assumed was a community hall of some sort. It was just that wide.

Mrs. Patterson comes out from a room further in. She is a woman in her forties, with the beginning of wrinkles to match. More smile lines than frown divets, but with as many children as Mr. Patterson said they had (seven so far, and all girls) that much was amazing. Even more remarkable at first glance is her hair: straight, black hair running midway down her back that still holds its luster despite her age. With that framing her gentle face, she can still be called beautiful even after two decades of marriage and children. Perhaps because of them.

"Guests? Oh! Hello!" The housewife quickly wipes her hands on her apron, rubbing off the residue from preparing a meal. Then she reaches out to take your hand warmly. "Donna Patterson. I hope you don't mind; I'm just starting on dinner right now."

"Oh, not at all! Could we help in any way?" you reply.

"I wouldn't say no to some little helpers! I still need potatoes peeled and the table set."

Raven, Skoll and Mienna move off to help her, while Mr. Patterson shows you around the house. Up front is a small room for receiving guests (and Verita decides it is here she will carefully lay down with the sleeping Doffson). The room Donna had come from is a large kitchen, connected to an even larger dining hall that could sit twenty people comfortably. And then begin the bedrooms. The closest is the master bedroom, with a large double-bed of course. Then fifteen more doors lead into smaller bedrooms, fitted with a single bed, two beds, a bunkbed--to each its own, one even sporting a cradle. Some of them were obviously empty; others had clothes and a few toys to show they were in use.

"Where are all your daughters?" you ask, curious.

"They're off picking Charlotte up from work, I expect. She's oldest, been working as a clerk for a Hero that opened up her own potion shop in town. The young ones like to pick her up there, since the Hero will give them a treat if she sees them."

Just then the front door swung open. The voices of several girls echoed down the hall, announcing their return. Mr. Patterson grinned and moved out to greet his daughters, with you following close behind. You were only halfway down the hall when a short scream came from the parlor. Where Verita was.

You hustle into the room, afraid of what the girls may think of a wolf in their home--and to your surprise (and delight), the reason for the scream was not Verita, but Doffson. A teenage girl had scooped the half-elf up and was energetically making funny faces at him. She stops when she sees you, just long enough to say, "She's so cute!"

"Yes, but he's actually a boy," you say with a smile.

The girl's jaw drops. She looks back at him. "He's... But he's so cute!"

"Yes, he really is," you agree, happy to have someone else notice. "He's barely 2 now." Days and levels.

"And in a dress..." Finally the girl just gives up and goes back to adoring the cute baby. Boy or girl, he's too adorable for her to quit the googly eyes and funny faces. And every time he giggles at her just encourages her to keep going.

You didn't realize at first, but another small girl is in the room, too. She's squatting in front of Verita, staring at her silently. Verita is staring back in equal silence. You don't know what exactly is happening there, but it looks like nobody is worried by Verita's presence. That's a relief.

Soon Mrs. Patterson puts out the call for dinner. It's a simple meal, more potatoes than anything else, but it's warm and the conversation is enjoyable. The girls are eager to ask questions about you and your family, and most of them you can answer somewhat vaguely. Skoll's ears and tail get a lot of attention, which makes her bashful.

Finally the meal ends and Mr. Patterson sends all the girls to bed. He and his wife help set up rooms for your kids, too. As they all settle down and drift off to sleep, Mr. Patterson quietly pulls you back to the dinner table where his wife is waiting.

"First, you're welcome to stay here no matter what. I want you to know that," Mr. Patterson says as the two of you sit down. "Even if you say no, we'd love to have your family stay longer."

"What is this favor your wife wants from me?" you ask, slightly worried if that's how he's starting this conversation. The two exchange a glance. Wordlessly, she lifts a set of handcuffs and some smooth, black rope from her lap and sets them on the table.

"Can I tie you up and... fuck you?" Mrs. Patterson asks.