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Part 2 of this little tale. A bit more "plot" this time, though, hope it doesn't detract from the M/b erotica. Yes, there's cub in this, but it's not a -real- cub. Read, and you'll find out. Enjoy.

~

Dawn struck intensely across the inky eastern expanse, bathing an infectious warm glow over the quaint landscape's ripe farmland. After a hearty night's rest, the family of bears began stirring once more for early morning tasks; Bartholomew wagered he would have to bide his time until such that he and his bed-ridden roommate might be left alone for a more determined length of time. When the supreme entity of light finally made around the edges of the window shade in the shared bedroom, Penny entered right on cue followed by another young she-bear.

"Good morn to you, Sir Bartholomew," sang the eldest daughter, carrying with her a tray of hot breakfast and coffee. Bart found himself treated to the makings of oatmeal, fruit, bacon and coffee, "I made the meal myself," curtsying politely, "I'm Penny, and she's Abby," her paw directed the 'elderly' lion to the younger sister, whom had pulled back the curtain separating him and Nana.

"Forgive me my curiosity, young miss, but what ails your grandmother?" inquired the lion, for he'd seen a number of sicknesses during his travels and had an idea or three to the nature of the one not five feet from him.

"Oh, we haven't the foggiest," chimed the sullen younger maiden, running a brush through the old lady's stringy, ashen locks; Nana was handling her spoon with exact skill that Bart had seen before, but now could fully see the pathetic nature of her state. The thin oatmeal put to her lips was hardly tepid, and might as well have been a watered-down paste than an actual meal.

"How's your leg, sir?" requested Penny.

"Oh, it's healing quite fine, thank you. I might be able to walk out after dinner, if I'm lucky," he smiled, gulping his breakfast after he spoke. A genuine (however snide) grin perked his whiskers as he observed Penny hoist up a bucket and pull out a sponge; recalling the playtime last night with Oscar, he found himself visualizing the young she-bear acting in the same manner.

"I hope you don't mind being bathed, Mr. Batholomew," asked Penny, and to the lion gently shook his head. "Of course not," he hoisted up carefully, to not move his leg suspiciously, and opened up his robe, now sporting some less-appealing definition and bit more of a gut than before. His contented rumblings continued throughout the grooming of both sponge, brush and spot drying, knowing fully that it'd behoove to remain as calm as possible during it. In a matter of time, Penny and Abby left and Nana was fast asleep, or at least what could be easily mistaken as sleep. Bart snapped to the lamp with instructions to inform him the instant someone neared their door, which he then locked with a wave of his paw. Now was the time to enact his scheme.

Sitting up a bit more to glance out the window, Bart found the master of the household about half a mile from the house with wheat up to his ears, harvesting the bounty with a scythe and basket. Pivoting on the bed he faced the window, his back to Nana's curtain, paws held toward the glass as small strings of light began forming just beyond his fingertips. A large circle drew into the air, followed by a second smaller one within it and runes written between them, encasing all numerous straight edges to form an 8-point star.

"Arise, my puppet," commanded the dark sorcerer, pulling from the designs in his mind a body of flesh and fur, using seed he gathered from Oscar to cultivate and speed-grow a mindless golem. The light was subtle, for Bart knew to control the effect of his magic on his surroundings. When the first spell was cast, before stood a bear cub donning some shorts, aged as a child between Oscar and Gary with a solid build, its features was cute and plush, yet hinted maturity mixed with an innocent smile. Thanks to the past hours of night the dark lion conjured it, aided by a waxing moon high in the midnight sky, the doll was complete. "Go to daddy, Sonny," he commanded the soulless creation. With a quick nod it jumped out the window with demonic speed, flying across the fields like a bullet towards Harold.

A thunderous grunt sounded as the adamant blade sliced cleanly through half a dozen stalks. A long morning of harvesting yielded Harold at least 10 hefty bundles of wheat and a sweaty body filled with subtly ached muscles wrapped up in denim jeans and work boots. 'The crops have grown tougher this year,' mused Harold, raising his scythe to strike once more at the bounty before a startled shrieked halted his act. Curved blade gleaming in the air, the grizzly found himself staring at an unknown bear cub, perhaps no older than Isaac. He'd fallen on his rump, staring up in shear shock at the scythe-wielding ursine, his intimidating blocking out the sun easily, and his large eyes on the verge of tears. Harold set the butt of his tool on the ground and knelt before the mysterious young bear, reaching out a broad paw to help him up.

"What're you doing out here, it's dangerous," he cooed, hearing the unknown cub sniffle pitifully, "Hey, I'll have none of that, you've got to be strong, okay?"

A nod was all he got in response, as well as a young paw wiping his face of any stray fluids.

"Now, who're your parents, I don't think I've seen you before?" he embraced the strange, saddened youth.

The silent bear boy remained such, shrugging meekly to answer. He smiled, though, nestling into the musky fur of the big father bear, rubbing against him some as small paws gently grabbed at his chest.

"Wait, what're you-?" inquired Harold, stopping when he felt the young mouth nuzzle and nibble upon a firming nipple, lightly tugging on it. Harold couldn't help but grunt in growing delight, unsure what the new sensation was that fell over him but he found that he liked it. Sonny's eyes lit up impishly, scooting up a bit more and pressing his lips lewdly to Harold's, slipping his tongue to the father's mouth. Harold's eyes fluttered, even though he'd kissed his dear wife many times before, this was somehow different; the boy was maybe 95lbs to his own 280, yet he seemed unable to push the cub away; on the contrary, he held closer. Sonny wiggled from the kiss and the strong arms, sitting back enough to rest his cute rump in the larger bear's lap, pressing against something that grew hard through the denim. Gasping softly and blushing brightly, Harold was subject to small yet diligent paws undoing the fastenings of his jeans and cold air striking his throbbing length.

"No...no, I mustn't..." he pled to the youth, unsuccessfully willing his paws to release their hold on the sexily plump body.

"You'll like, it promise," finally spoke the boy, grinning impishly once more. The cut pillar of hot daddy-meat sprayed a warm jet of clear pre onto the bear cub's shorts, Harold unable to control his breathing. Sonny smiled wide and slid down further wiggling from his messy garments, his young cock already hard as rock. He grasped the thick slab of bear-meat and shoved the fat tip into his surprisingly skillful mouth, meticulous tongue lapping up the slick fluid as he shoved the rigid shaft through his lips. Harold watched in awe, one paw rubbing the back of the boy's head, the other bracing the ground at his feet, his self entirely at the mercy of the strange boy. Sonny's throat opened up and took the entire grand arousal, Harold unable to believe his eyes at the nose pressed to his crotch, for the boy showed no sign of any hardship; even his beloved could not swallow every inch. Harold's hips bucked against the cub's tight muzzle, blushing and biting his lower lip as not to roar too loudly, though, none too soon did his first of many orgasms erupt down Sonny's gullet. The young bear gulped and swallowed every drop eagerly, bobbing his head to milk the daddy's balls.

Bart watching from afar, as he is able to see what others cannot. A grin crossed his lips, wagering that the father could be harvested for much more...

Sonny popped his mouth from the hardon within his throat, closing an eye as a rope of cum shot over his face. Licking gently up the still throbbing length, he turned and lowered his upper body, showing the big grizzly his taut, 'virgin' rump, pressing it back against the mighty girth. Harold leaned forward, still planted on his knees, and grasped those plush cheeks, spreading them with his thumbs and grinding the fat erection between them before quickly burying it into the fuck-boy. Sonny moaned out in lust with a smile, the sex-golem detecting a greater amount of potential for reaping the horny father.

The tight ring of flesh stretching wide around the veined girth, giving way with amazing ease and ample tightness and heat, Harold almost instantly hilted the bear cub's rump. One paw braced the ground above Sonny's head and the other held the young body, the rutting grizzly's hips gyrated lustfully and vigorously, plowing through the anal passage that took his endowment so perfectly.

Bart observed from his aerie of Nana's bedroom, keeping a vigil on the hallway outside all the while. A clever smirk charmed his visage on a thought to get every drop of semen from the shag-furred giant, if just to sacrifice a little...

Sonny moaned out and humped back against the horny daddy-bear, massaging his pressured passage about the immense shaft plowing through him, eager paws held tight to the ground. With a joyful moan his young cock shot out hot stream of seed onto the dirt, invoking his body to clench and send Harold careening into a tremendous climax. The mature bear's jaw locked and back arched, a powerful roar held entirely in the confines of his throat, only erotically painful trickles escaping through his bared, glistening fangs. The heavy orbs swinging in the looseness of his jeans emptied their abundant load into the golem's awaiting stomach and bowels, filling out his tummy quite well with hot seed.

As Harold groaned and gasped, his softening member popped free while basking in the encompassing afterglow. Thick white ropes splattered over Sonny's backside and round cheeks, the cub turning to lick the content bear-cock resting on the father's toned stomach. Every drop of semen was cleaned meticulously, and when Harold's mind cleared at last, he looked upon the bear cub tucking his softened penis back into his pants and zipping him up.

"Oh god..." fretted Harold, breathing deeply, emotions of anger and fear rushing through him, "I just...we didn't...oh god!" his body jerked before his eyes clenched, "Why did I...I wish I hadn't...!"

"Granted," Bart complied, reaching his paw to the window, and so did Sonny mimic, pressing his young palm to the sire's forehead, making his eyes fogging up as a large orb was removed. With maturity came a more solid mind; however, Bart planned his actions so to merely take what Harold surrendered.

Sitting there in the field, Harold blinked slightly confused, then remembered that he was harvesting the wheat around him. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a small figure disappear through the crops, but being the skeptic that he was, considered it a trick of the mind. His scythe slashed through the bounty as he ignored the faint smell of his own semen; there was a job to do, after all.

Bart's time at the household was coming to an end as Sonny ran towards his window; even though it wasn't necessary, the bear-cub golem had cleaned his body and redressed. The lion's golden eyes shot open and his nose pressed to the window, watching in one of the most unlikely events he'd yet to see: there was Gary, wearing overalls and a tee, spreading chicken seed onto the ground, and right in the path of his golem. 'Shit...' Bart concluded, sharp claws gently scraping across the glass.

Gary glanced up at the stranger a few years or so older than him, and gave a kind hello without skipping a beat. "Oh, hi, who're you?" asked the real cub.

"Sonny..." peeped the golem, glancing nervously up at his master in the bedroom window, and then shyly looking back. With the seed bag set down, Gary smiled warmly, "I'm Gary, are you new to town?"

"Uh-huh..." murmured Sonny, twiddling his fingers a bit and shifting weight from foot to foot. Gary walked over and leaned forward a bit, "Wanna be my friend?" he beamed, hoping to warm up to the new bear cub.

Bart glared at the sky, expending more magic to influence the weather in the immediate area. The heavens were checkered with numerous clouds, yet the sun shone brightly; through manipulation enough clouds could gather and become dark. A single ribbon of lightning streaked through the air before one clap of thunder sounded across the fields. Gary jumped and shrieked from surprise, blinking hard and shaking his head; the area calmed, yet those of the ursine household kept their eyes to the sky, anticipating another sign of a storm. As the youngest son looked back to where his new friend was, he was met with only an empty spot and a chill wind. Golden sunlight bathed the wheat once more when the clouds dispersed.

Sonny scaled the wall of the house and slipped through Nana's bedroom window, Bart letting out a loud sigh of relief. The golem sat upon the empty bed and bounced about, leaning back to show his plump tummy to his master, whom quickly reached through the fur and fat to retrieve a small, hot vial of white essence. "A hard earned prize, my boy," said Bart, holding the vial up to examine it, "This rich seed will cultivate at least a hundred strong soldiers." Pulling out the second vial, he looked between them, "And with the memories of both father and son, my army will have the fierce, unyielding bond of a homosexual couple amidst a culture that condemns them." Tossing them both into the air, he caught them and tucked them away. Looking over to Nana, he rubbed his chin, causing Sonny to look over his shoulder to her; he was then beckoned over by Bart.

"And now, the finishing touch," said the dark lion, having sufficiently cleaned out his cub golem, he returned the magical doll into a ball of genetic matter, standing over the decrepit grandmother to begin integrating the flesh and bone into her body. Her organs mended and skeleton strengthened, her fur grew thick and healthy as she was filled with life, once more; Nana easily gained another 10 years before her heart gave out and bit the dust. Casually, Bart returned to his aged mirage, grabbing up his walking stick and treading out with a casual pace, his "sprained ankle" "healed" quite nicely. Mrs. Gretchen Baggardy, the lady of the house, gave a gasp of surprise as she saw Ol' Bart sauntering down the stairs.

"Ah, good noon, ma'am I thank you and your family for your hospitality. I should be on my way, before I become a hindrance."

"Oh, goodness, Mr. Bartholomew, you wouldn't be in the least," she assured, hoisting her basket of laundry to her hip as a free paw waved at his cautions dismissively, "Please, stay for lunch before you go, hmm? Though, I do declare I've never seen a twisted ankle heal so fast for someone your age, if I may be so bold."

"Be you may, and I wouldn't call myself a nomad unless a joint or two in this body got twisted or sprained somehow every other week," he laughed warmly, hoping the mother bear would let him pass, "I may have seen many years, but I intend to see them over again."

"Well then, I wouldn't be too gracious if a guest was made to stay 'gainst his will. Lemme pack you a meal for the road, Mr. Bartholomew, if but a parting token of the Baggardy hospitality?"

"Oh, I suppose I can allow that much, ma'am; I do enjoy your cooking so very much."

"Charmer, and please, call me Gretchen, none of this 'ma'am' stuff," said the portly mother, setting the basket near the stairs and walking off to the kitchen to make a quick sandwich for the lion. Bart followed hesitantly, glancing over his shoulder up the stairs, having assumed he'd've been out of the house, by now.

"We've never been properly introduced, have we?" asked Gretchen, as she spread mustard across a hoagie bun.

"'Fraid not, as soon as I came, I was trucked up to the bedroom and set to bed immediately," he kept his face as calm as possible, arms crossed upon the kitchen table. The paw showing remained laxed, but the paw hidden threatened to dig razor-sharp claws into the fine oaken top, and luckily, the billows of his traveling cloak hidden the nervous twitching of his tail between his ankles.

"Perhaps you'd like some potato chips? Fried fresh this morning, they were," she beamed over her shoulder, putting some into a smaller burlap after cutting the sandwich in twain.

'No,' thought Bart, "Oh yes, please," he said.

"I'll just throw in some of Nana's famous cookies and a small jug of my special apple cider," and so she did, wrapped the sweets made from her mother-in-law's recipe and pouring a few hearty gulps of the bubbly liquid for the lion, corking it nice and tight.

'I really don't care, wench,' gritted Bart's mind, now past the point of actual politeness with regards to this caring mother, "How delightful!" beamed the old lion face. He finally stood as the heartfelt sack lunch was handed to him, to which he grasped it in one paw and nodded his head, "I thank you, Gretchen, you are too kind to this grayed beast."

"Oh, piffle, Mr. Bartholomew, it's just my nature," her paw waved again dismissively, though she actually soaked up the praise, "Have a safe trip, then." Seeing him to the door, Bart turned over his shoulder, "Give my regards to the family, and good day," he smiled, padding out into the brilliant noonday sun, 'Good riddance,' he thought, one foot out the door. A sudden yell came from upstairs, making his fur stand on end under his coat.

"Ma! Ma! Nana's out of bed!" called the voice of Olivia, Abby's twin. 'Shit...' thought Bart; he intended to be long gone before the old bat woke up, 'Shouldn't stick around for this...' As Gretchen's back turned to him, and the instant before Isaac came flying down the steps to fetch his mother, Bart reverted to his true age and disappeared one the turn of his heel. The last bear he saw that day was Gary, staring up at his vanishing form in wonder; their eyes locked for a second that seemed to last an eternity.

Off in the distant woods, beyond the field of wheat and barley, Bart stood on the cusp of dispersing trees and stared enraged at the bear's house. 'He saw me...he saw me teleport...that little boy not only saw my golem but he saw me teleport!' he shifted his weight onto one foot, 'I could destroy the house easily; strike it with a tornado and no one would be the wiser...' The sack lunch became heavy in his grasp, bidding him to sit upon a rock a few feet back; his knees felt like jelly and were glad to relieve the weight of his body. 'No, they've done no wrong,' reasoned the lion, his silver mane settling upon his shoulders as he blinked away a drop from the corner of his eye. Opening up the hearty meal provided to him, he savored the taste of the roast beef and crisp lettuce, the fizzy cider and salty chips, and finally the divine chocolate chip cookies. The vials in the inner pocket of his coat felt warm.

~Epilogue~

Ma had whipped up a special celebratory meal for Nana's recovery, whom sat with her silver hair in a tight knot behind her head, cutting cleanly through a thick slice of suckling pig.

"Ah, ye god, 'tis sweet to live!" she sang before ingesting the pork and swigging some red wine. The Baggardies were awestruck at Nana's spontaneous recovery, especially since the doctor's terminal diagnosis; but of course, everyone was elated to see their grandmother alive and well, pronouncing it miracle.

"Mmm, I have that charming young lion to thank, I do; Bartholomew, aye?" she pondered.

"You saw him, Mom?" asked Harold, scooping buttered peas into his mouth, though curious as to her consideration of his age.

"Ney exactly with mine eyes, rather in mind. Large, strapping fellow with fur like night and a moon-like mane; no older than ye, Harry."

"But Nana," chimed in Gretchen, "he must have as many years as Gramps, rest his soul." The family nodded to his, "Come to think of it, I wonder where he went? He wasn't out the door before Olivia called..."

Gary remained silent during it all; he'd learned many times in the past not to say of things he saw, or as his kin assured, "imagined".

After everyone, especially Nana, had ice cream, they all snuggled up into bed to sleep for another day of harvesting. Gary laid in his bottom bunk, staring upon the shelf that Pa made for his books, recalling the tales of magic he'd read about; something shiny caught his eye, however, a tome amongst them that wasn't there before. Brow furrowed, he climbed from his covers and silently walked to his collection of literature. The new book was small, yet heavy, adorned with gaudy yet decorative iron casings on the corners and along the spine; opening it carefully, he found a note with fancy handwriting on the first page:

'I shall return in 3 years, read this tome by then and tell no one.'

Gary's nape hairs prickled and he spun around to the sound of flapping billows, finding that the darkened curtains - for a single instant - sprouted a silver mane and grinning golden eyes.

"Okay," he whispered; his heart atwitter with fear and anticipation.

~

To be continued, maybe?