Bloodlines Pt. 03

This is part 3 of a continuing story that is becoming more and more twisted as the words come out. I hope you enjoyed parts 1 and 2. If you have not read those you might want to before jumping into this one.

This story is set in medieval times in a fantasy world that does not exist. Any resemblance to people real or imagined is purely coincidental. If any characters in this story actually did exist, and they were involved in the sexual scenes described, they would be eighteen years of age or older.

Thanks for your continued support and comments.

*****

Ian hauled several loads of wood into the chamber along with a few buckets of coal from the kitchen. Ayra watched him silently, her expression one of reluctant worry. Afterward he fed the horse with some grain he had found in the cellar. With nothing else to do, and Ayra taking another nap, Ian made his way into the more collapsed section of the building, hoping to find a king's treasure.

Climbing through the debris was difficult, and he ended up backtracking several times. He didn't find a king's treasure, but he did find a chest filled with bolts fine linen and what appeared to be a pair of silver goblets. He also found a fine chain shirt the likes of which he had never seen. The woven metal felt more like fabric than steel, and it made no sound when he shook it. He figured between it and the goblets he might get enough to put a down payment on a small farm.

It would be a start, a start for him and Ayra, and his sister, a start somewhere, anywhere but under the thumb of his uncle. Ian made his way back to the chamber, hopeful in what he had found. At least the foraging had distracted him from the situation at hand, and the incident from the previous night had faded to little more than a wishful memory.

The smell hit him before he even stepped into the chamber. As Ian opened the door, his senses were overwhelmed with the odor of fresh bread. Ayra was sitting on the bed a pot at her feet as she peeled potatoes and dropped them in. She looked up at him and smiled.

"I went to the kitchen while you were gone." She said, gesturing at the items strewn about the room.

"I found some potatoes and turnips that were still good, as well as some flour. There was something else as well." She said, nodding toward a large wooden tub sitting in the corner.

Ian looked at it and back at her questioningly.

"It's a bathing tub! I already have it half full, there's another pot of water on the fire, and two more waiting. A hot bath should definitely convince your sister it is time." She said, pausing to rub her swollen stomach as she smiled.

"Where did you get the water?" Ian said.

"In the kitchen. There's a hand pump. It draws water from the ground."

"You should not have..." Ian started, trying to sound stern.

"Don't be silly. I was hoping the exercise might convince her it is time. That didn't work, so I am hoping the hot bath will."

"I don't know, Ayra. It seems like a lot to go through just to give birth. And what happens if it doesn't work."

"It will work!" Ayra said, staring at me fearfully.

"But what if it doesn't? I mean, what's the rush. Yesterday you were so calm, like everything was fine."

"She has stopped moving!" Ayra said, the knife dropping from her hand. "She has to be born; I have to convince her it is time!"

"Alright, I'm sorry." Ian said, walking over and placing his hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at him, her hand reaching up to grab his. She pulled his fingers to her lips and kissed them as she stared up at him, tears forming in her eyes.

"Besides, didn't you say I needed convincing, that father had to convince me? Perhaps I could convince my sister?"

"No!" Ayra said, suddenly pulling her hand away. "The hot bath will work, it has to work."

She started to rise, but Ian put his hand on her shoulder and eased her back onto the bed. She looked up at him, and he saw the concern in her eyes. Once again she tried to stand but he stopped her.

"You just relax. I will heat the rest of the water. The bath will work, just like you said."

Ian gently pushed her back onto the bed then pulled the furs over her as he tried to understand why she was so concerned. The water in the pot was almost boiling, so he quickly swapped it out for the next pot then added some wood to the fire before emptying the hot water into the tub.

As he built up the fire, the water heated quickly, as did the room, until he was sweating profusely. Ian pulled off his shirt and hung it on the bed then positioned the last pot of water by the fire, hoping to at least preheat it.

Remembering the things he had found, Ian grabbed the trunk from outside the door and brought it inside. Ayra heard him and sat up, smiling as he carried the trunk over to the bed.

"So, you have found the king's treasure?" she laughed. It was a forced laugh, but a laugh none the less.

Her smile lightened his heart and for a moment things seemed like old times. He pulled the lid open and pulled out the goblets.

"They are silver, I think." Ian said, as he handed them to her.

"And finely made, they will fetch a good price." Ayra replied, holding one up and examining it.

"And these bolts of cloth, they should be worth something." he said, pulling out the linen.

"Our future is secure." She laughed, running her hand across the fabric.

"And this." Ian said, pulling out the chain shirt soundlessly. "I think it might have some value as well."

Ayra's eyes went wide, and she dropped the bolt of cloth. Her hand reached out to lightly touch the metal, her fingers trembling visibly.

"Ian, this is..." she said, staring at the fine metal fabric.

"I was thinking between this and the goblets we could get a down payment on a small farm somewhere." Ian said, as she gently lifted the edge of the shirt.

"Ian, this, this is elven, it is Mithril." She said, the fabric slipping from her fingers.

"So, it should get us enough for a down payment then?" Ian said, not sure what she was saying meant.

He had heard of Elves, and of Mithril, their magical metal, but only in stories, and he wasn't certain she wasn't just telling one now.

"This shirt, it is, it is worth more than a farm, and not a small farm." She said, raising her hand to gently cup my cheek.

"So we don't have to go to Uncle Brayden's." Ian said, unable to hide the pleasure in his voice.

"Uhm I don't know. It is valuable, that much I am sure of, but really just how valuable, and who would pay a fair price, I am not so certain." She said. "We might need to go there, at least to sell the shirt. I don't know where else we would be able to get a fair price for it."

"But we won't stay?"

"Not if you don't want to. You found the shirt, and it is up to you what is done with it." She said, her fingers running along the fabric admiringly.

"The rest of the water is hot." Ian said, dropping the shirt on the bed and walking over to the fire.

Not only was the pot hanging over the fire starting to bubble, but the pot next to it had started to steam. Ian quickly dumped both pots into the tub then turned to look at Ayra.

"I will be in the main chamber, just call me when you're done." he said, secretly hoping she would ask me to stay.

Ayra smiled, as she stood up, her fingers slowly untying her robe. Ian tried not to stare, but I couldn't help it. The skin of her stomach was stretched tight, the veins showing in a spider web of faint blue lines. The dark hair covering her womanhood stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin. She was like a goddess, and he swallowed hard, trying to control himself.

"It might be better if you stay." She said, letting the robe fall to the floor. "You can put the pot of vegetables on the fire. Besides the bath will work and when it does, I will need your help." She continued, as she walked over and grabbed his hand before stepping into the tub.

Ian just stood there unable to turn away, not wanting to. Her long black hair stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin. He could see her shiver as she slowly sank down into the water, her fingers still gripping his. Once she was fully in the water, she released his hand and sighed.

"This will work." She whispered, as Ian stared at her, unable or unwilling to look away.

Her breasts bobbed heavily just under the water, and Ian's eyes moved quickly from her full breasts to her hair covered pussy to her swollen stomach looked at her stomach, waiting to see the telltale movement of his sister. The smooth flesh remained motionless, as Ayra slowly sank deeper into the water, her hands resting on the sides of the tub.

"This will work." She whispered again, her fingers tightening on the edge of the tub.

Suddenly Ian saw it, the slow moving lump easing its way across Ayra's stomach.

"She's moving." He whispered, resting his hand on Ayra's as he knelt beside the tub. "It's going to be alright."

Ayra turned to look at him, her teeth biting her lip.

"She is ready, she wants to come out." She said, her smile looked forced, but he just nodded.

"You should get the pot on the fire so the vegetables can cook." She said slowly, as she slid deeper into the water.

Ian nodded, and slowly turned away, surprised at how difficult it was to tear his eyes from her body. He put the pot filled with vegetables on the fire, then stirred the coals, bringing the flames back to life.

"Just how much do you think that shirt will bring." He said, struggling to keep his back to her, but knowing he must.

"That is why we must go to see your uncle. He will know what it is worth and how to get the best price. At the least it will buy us a farm, and perhaps a few goats."

Ian sat silently for a time, staring at the pot of vegetables as they slowly began to boil. Finally Ayra sat forward in the tub, her fingers gripping the edges. She tried to stand but fell backwards with a moan. Realizing her struggle, Ian jumped up and rushed to her.

"It isn't working." She said, looking up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Perhaps it will just take more time." Ian said, his eyes locked on her swollen breasts.

He tried to tell himself that he was just trying to watch for his sister's movements, but the swell in his pants declared otherwise. Ayra leaned forward, momentarily blocking his view. She grabbed his hand and whispered his name.

"It is time, Ian. Your sister must be convinced. There is no other choice."

"But mother, I don't know..."

She put a trembling finger to his lips, smiling apprehensively.

"It will be alright, Ian." She said, grabbing his hand and pulling it to her lips.

She kissed his fingers softly as she looked at him. She stood up slowly, gripping his hand for support. The water ran off her, leaving her standing there, shivering. Ian slipped his arms around her, picking her up. He slowly carried her to the bed, his eyes locked on hers as the touch of her flesh sent shivers through his body. He had no idea what was happening, he only knew he was touching her, touching her naked flesh, and she was awake. She seemed to melt into him, her head resting on his shoulder, her lips gently touching his skin.

"Your clothes are soaked." She said as he slowly lowered her onto the bed.

She reached up and untied his shirt, her eyes locked on his. Her touch made him shake as she pulled his shirt over his head. By now, his cock was raging, throbbing and pulsing as his imagination ran wild. He thought he might cum as her fingers fumbled with the knot in his pants. She managed to undo it, and smiled up at him as she peeled them from my flesh.

Ian didn't dare speak, afraid his voice would crack, or that by speaking he might somehow break the magic of what was happening. She slid backwards onto the bed, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her. Her legs were parted and she pulled him between them, her eyes locking onto his, forcing him to watch her.

Her fingers pulled his hand back to her lips, and she kissed his fingers again, as her eyes held him in place. Slowly she moved his hand downward, his fingers caressing her soft neck before she pushed it onward, guiding his hand to her swollen breast. She looked at him, smiling as his fingers found her nipple. He pinched it gently, watching her shudder as she continued moving his hand lower.

His cock throbbed as Ian realized what was about to happen. He inched forward, his free hand grabbing his cock, pointing it toward her swollen pussy. He shifted forward again, shaking as she held his one hand on her stomach. His cock inched closer, finally touching her womanhood. He nearly came right then.

"Ian, I ..." Ayra said, releasing his hand and rolling away from him.

"I... I'm sorry mother, I don't..." Ian started, guilt rising up inside of him.

Ian lowered himself behind her, careful to keep his cock from touching her as he moved to press against her back. He placed a hand on her stomach, his fingers slowly caressing her flesh. She let out a soft sigh, and pressed back against him, her fingers resting on his. Ian started to speak, not really knowing what to say but feeling he needed to say something.

"Hush, Ian." She said, pulling away from him only to roll over and face him.

In the firelight Ian watched as she sat up, her lips curled into what he knew was a forced smile. Her fingers reached out to touch his lips as she slowly got to her knees.

"Mother, I..." he started, only to have her reach out and gently place her fingers on his lips.

"Call me Ayra." She whispered, as she slowly climbed on top of him, her fingers reaching between them, grasping his cock and guiding it into her.

"Your sister needs convincing." She said, as she slowly lowered onto him, her pussy pulsing as inch by inch she engulfed his cock in her fiery embrace.

Her face was a mask of firm determination as her hips slowly gyrated, working his cock deeper inside. He glanced down, the sight of his cock slowly entering his mother was more than he could stand. His pelvis had barely touched her's when his cock began pulsing wildly, the heat of her embrace more than he could withstand. He stared up at her, his eyes locked on her's as she accepted his seed, his cock erupting deep inside her. His body shook violently, as she ground against him, her pussy grasping at his cock, draining every drop of his cum.

Gradually his spasms subsided, and Ayra began to gyrate, her hips thrusting against Ian's pelvis as she ground against him. Her hands grabbed to his shoulders, pressing him against the bed as her movements became more desperate. Her large breasts swung in front of Ian's eyes, mesmerizing him. He couldn't resist reaching out and grabbing them, pulling them to his mouth. His lips encircled her nipple, drawing on it, the touch seeming to encourage her to thrust even faster.

Ian's cock, overwhelmed by her touch, responded quickly, pulsing and swelling as she started to tremble, her fingers digging into his flesh. She stiffened, arching her back, pulling her tits from his grasp as she pressed hard against his pelvis, her pussy squeezing rhythmically around his cock.

Her mouth opened in a wordless cry as she ground against him, her pussy pulsing and throbbing, grasping at his cock. Ian could feel her fingers digging into his chest as she shook, her whole body shaking. His own need building, climbing beyond his control, Ian writhed beneath her, his hips thrusting involuntarily upward. His hands slid down her hips, grabbing her soft flesh as he began thrusting into her, each stroke forcing a gasp of surprised pleasure from her soft lips.

Her tits bounced wildly as Ian lost all control, his need taking over, his hips thrusting upward wildly, driving his cock deep inside. Ayra's fingers dug deeper into his chest, the pain spurring him on, as he thrust into her with absolute abandon. He wanted to roll her over, to rise above her and slam into her but she held him pinned, her hips matching his thrusts with unrivalled frenzy. Her head flailed from side to side as she gasped for air.

She let out a moan, pressing his chest hard as she pressed her hips downward, attempting to pin him to the bed. Her whole body began to shake and her hips twisted wildly, her pussy gripping at his cock as she writhed uncontrollably.

Her whole body stiffened, as she sat upright, thrusting her breasts outward, her head flailing from side to side. Ian could feel her pussy contracting around his cock, throbbing and squeezing, pulling him past the point of no return, sucking his seed and his energy from him in spurt after agonizingly pleasurable spurt.

Slowly she relaxed, her fingers releasing his flesh as she fell to the bed, his cock sliding from her silently. Ian didn't know what to do or what to say. He turned toward her, his arm slipping around her waist as he pulled her to him, his lips caressing the soft flesh of her shoulder. She placed her hand over his, pulling it to her stomach. He could feel the slight movement, as she let out a soft moan.

"Mother, did it?" He whispered, letting his hand gently caress her stomach as he felt the muscles tighten.

"She is convinced. And from now on, I am Ayra." She whispered, pressing backwards against him.

Chapter 8

Brayden looked at Ricah trying to hide his smile. The woman was a scheming bitch and he knew it. He also knew she would be so pleased with herself in getting him to name Ian as his heir that she would never suspect it had been his plan all along. He was no sentimental slob who gave in to bribery, even if the bribery included a bevy of young women to suck his cock. Of course, the blow jobs were an added bonus he wasn't about to complain about.

"I have made my decision regarding the future of our house." He said, patting the bed.

Ricah steeled herself and walked over, careful to sit down far enough away to avoid his coughing fits. Behind her a scribe stood, pen in hand, ready to take down Brayden's wishes just in case he didn't last until Ian's arrival.

"Blood is blood Ricah, and since you have failed to give me an heir, I most choose what is for the best of our family." Brayden said, spit flinging from his lips and landing on the quilt.

Even he could see the traces of blood now mixed with his spit and knew his time was short. Still, the lad deserved better, better than his no account brother gave him, and better than his brother's wife would do for him. The fact that the boy was pretty well unprepared for taking on the duties didn't worry Brayden in the least. Ricah would see to it that things were kept in line. Hell, she'd probably be in the boy's bed before he sat on the chair.

For the briefest moment he actually missed slamming his cock into the bitch, and how a good screwing turned her from the hard as steel cunt that she was into a begging for more cock slut. He almost wished he would be here to watch her and Ayra go at it over the kid. The two of them weren't much different except Ayra managed to hide her plans a little better.

With the announcement made, he picked up his cup and drained it, the bitter wine making him cough and choke. He smiled as he managed to splatter his wife with some of it, even as far as she had positioned herself from him. He could see the muscles in her neck tense and wondered just how far he could push her.

"I grow weary." He said, holding out his cup to the young woman standing by the edge of the bed.

Ricah nodded and stood up, not even bothering to wipe the blood filled spit from her dress.

"You are stressed Milord." She said, her hand reaching out to touch his quilt covered foot. "You need some rest."

"I need a good blowjob, maybe even a good fuck if I can muster the strength." He growled, watching her resolve falter for a moment.

She took a deep breath, her lips trembling in anger.

"I have things to attend to. I will be back tomorrow to check on you." She said before turning quickly and walking from the room.