Homelands Pt. 03 Ch. 02

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Part Three picks up where Part Two left off. Be advised that if you haven't read Part One and Part Two, the story may be quite difficult to follow.

This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, most chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.

All characters are over eighteen. All acts are consensual.

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I woke up in the stiff bed in my room in the Supplicants' Hall. Someone sat on the bed beside me. I felt her Libido, though it was dim and, at the moment, cold.

"Frank!"

Wendy. Yes, that was Wendy's voice.

She threw her arms around my neck, knocking the wind out of me. But when she heard me cough, she eased up. I reached up and stroked her unruly brown hair with one hand.

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"Four days," she said. "Well, four nights, at any rate. But you know what I mean."

"Shit," I said. "What's happened in the meantime?"

"Nothing," she said. "At least, not that I'd know. I, um, haven't...."

Left my side. Of course not. She might not have the kind of feelings for me that she had for Iva, but Wendy wasn't the kind of person for whom that mattered.

"No word from Mel or Sean?"

Wendy shook her head.

I groaned as I tried to sit up. A stab of pain immediately forced me to lie back down.

Gesturing at my leg, Wendy said, "You were lucky to close that back up, you know."

"Why are we still here?" I asked.

I poured energy slowly into the wounded leg, and weeks' worth of healing took place in a matter of moments. It left me worse than tired, but at least the pain was gone. I raised the leg, bent it at the knee, tested the range of motion. As if nothing had ever happened.

"Should we go?"

I sighed. "No." I rubbed my temples. "We can't just leave Mel and Sean."

"That's what I was thinking," she whispered. "Though, I might have lied just a moment ago. About not hearing from them."

I laughed. "That was quick."

"Yeah, well," she blushed. What she didn't say, didn't {need to say, was that I'd been in excruciating pain a moment ago. "Anyway, they said not to worry about them."

"Why not?"

Wendy fussed with her hair. "They'd rather go home, of course, but they're not in any danger. And they would be, if we tried to help them escape."

"There's got to be {something we can do," I said.

"She said she'd disown you and worse if you tried."

Brave little Mel. If only she knew what she was getting into.

"She also said that she's pretty sure she'd be in more danger back in Autumn," Wendy added. "She doesn't think you realize it, but she's well aware that your grandmother is about one bad day away from declaring all of House Orwin traitors to the realm." Wendy placed a palm against my cheek. "Of course, the queen wouldn't let her. I just know she wouldn't. But your niece might be onto something. You know that, right?"

I didn't reply.

"You belong to both houses. And you already gave up the throne once. So it's hard for her to argue when Iva insists that you're not a threat. She's obviously not persuaded either, but she doesn't argue. Unfortunately, it's a little different with Mel and Sean. Kaitlin can hardly bear to hear anyone say their names."

"Fuck," I said. "You're right."

Wendy smiled softly. Not so wide as to reveal the slight gap between her front teeth, but wide enough to show her cute dimples.

"Sleep now," she said, planting a kiss on my forehead.

I wanted to protest. Wanted to insist that I was fine. But the words came out as mumbles.

When I next awoke, everything was exactly as it had been when I fell asleep. Wendy was still sitting next to me, in the same exact place.

"Just a few hours," she said, in response to my unspoken question.

And just a few hours after {that, we headed back to Autumn. In the meantime, Wendy showed me just how much she could enjoy the company of men after all.

#

When we got back, Wendy bid me an awkward farewell. I wasn't sure whether to be amused or slighted by that. I chose amused.

Much as I dreaded having to tell him about Mel and Sean, I owed it to Todd to go see him. But just as I was about to do so, I remembered all the things Iva and Wendy had said about my grandmother,a nd I decided I'd better go to court first. It wouldn't do to give Grandma Kaitlin reason to think House Orwin was loyal to itself and not the throne.

The royal palace had changed a great deal since I'd stepped down. In contrast with its present appearance, it had looked almost modest back when Brianna sat the throne. The imposing castle, with its dark stone battlements, would not have looked out of place in the Shadowed Glade of the Moon.

Not exactly what I'd expected.

Liveried guards, who wore chain mail and carried freaking halberds, escorted me to the throne room. The throne itself, carved from oak and heavily gilded, was twice as large as the one upon which I'd sat.

The outfit my aunt wore almost made me want to laugh. Or tremble. Or both.

She was certainly taking her new position seriously, that was for sure.

Her red silk dress had a tall collar trimmed with ermine, and the bodice was decked with diamonds and pearls. The neckline plunged nearly to her abdomen, exposing a great swath of delicious cleavage. Her white knee high stockings were trimmed with red ribbons and tiny little diamonds. Her heels were thickly crusted with diamonds and bore one fat ruby apiece near their tips. A golden tiara, also heavily adorned with rubies, diamonds and pearls, sat just a bit askew atop her golden hair. She held a golden scepter that, of course, was likewise crusted with a stunning amount of rubies, diamonds, and pearls.

In contrast, my grandmother, who stood just behind the throne, wore a simple black leather dress. Yet, as modest as her own attire was, something told me she was responsible for all the grandiose trappings of power with which Iva now surrounded herself.

In fact, the moment Iva laid eyes on me, she blushed and looked away.

For her part, Grandma's thin lips pressed together tightly.

Though I desperately wanted to make a joke, I bit my tongue and went down on one knee, head bowed. "Your Majesty," I said, hoping my voice sounded reverent and humble.

As I spun my tale, both Iva's embarrassment and Grandma's wariness faded. Neither was pleased, but I suspect for rather different reasons.

After I finished, Iva simply said that I must be exhausted and offered to have a room prepared for me. "That won't be necessary," I said, before adding, "Your Grace."

"But we insist," my grandmother said.

Did the queen wince at that?

"If Your Majesty has no further need of me, I'd just as soon go see my brother. He should hear the news from me, and sooner rather than later."

"That won't be necessary," Grandma said.

A moment later, the throne room had melted away. We were now in a treehouse unlike any I'd ever seen, built around what must have been a massive oak tree. One wall of the room we occupied consisted solely of the trunk, which had to be fifteen feet across. A hole had been carved out of the trunk and a stone hearth set in it. The other walls were open, save for a two-foot high rail. There was no ceiling.

Two couches, one large enough for three people, formed an L in one corner of the room. The couches faced a large TV that sat atop an entertainment center. A king sized bed occupied another corner of the room. Where the lamps and TV and video game consoles got their electricity, I couldn't have said.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Your prison," Iva said, voice heavy with resignation.

Grandma rolled her eyes. "If you can call it that, comfortable as it is."

Iva didn't even look me in the eye as she said, "I'm sorry, Frank."

For a brief moment, I considered doing something stupid. But between the two of them, there was enough power lined up against me that there was only one way for that to end.

"Now, the last Orwin to be replaced by a Farrier, she was put in {a prison," Grandma continued. "Nothing like this resort."

"And the others?" I asked with a sigh.

"We have to separate you," Iva mumbled. "But their prisons are no less...hospitable."

"You're not going to let me see them?"

"You won't be completely alone," Grandma said. "The two of us will visit you from time to time." She turned to Iva. "Isn't that right, sweetie?"

Iva didn't respond.

My grandmother took a step towards me, gave my shoulder a light shove with two fingers, and I toppled back onto the bed I hadn't realized was right behind me. "It'd be a shame to let you rot away here without anyone getting to enjoy all that you have to offer."

Was she serious? She couldn't really think I'd want to, could she?

Yet as she crawled up onto the bed, stalking me like a jungle cat, I realized that I very much did. There was a part of me that didn't, yes. A base instinct to rebel, to fight, to do something other than allow the woman who was seeking to imprison me from using me for her pleasure to boot. But as much as I knew that the last thing on my mind should be how badly I wanted to be inside her, there was no denying that my body was responding to that hungry look in her eyes.

It wasn't entirely my fault though. I don't just mean because my grandmother can be damn seductive when she wants to be. Which she can. Very much so. For all that she might not have been the most physically attractive member of the family, there was definitely something about her that was incredibly intoxicating. But no, it wasn't just that. She was inside my head. Or my Libido at any rate. Pouring energy into me at a frightening rate, and turning just the right knobs. And though she no longer had the power advantage over me she'd once had, she was far from weak.

Maybe, if I tried hard enough, I could resist.

Maybe.

As my hands went to the backs of her legs and slid up towards her ass, I cursed myself.

A fleeting thought crossed my mind that in a sane world, not only wouldn't I be doing so, but the reason I'd be resisting her would be that she was my freaking grandmother. Yet, though there were quite a few reasons I wished I had the willpower to say "No" just then, the fact that the same blood ran through my veins as hers was not among them. The absurdity of that realization almost made me laugh.

The thought was quickly displaced, replaced by the faint sense of wonder at her how nice her ass was. It wasn't as large as I liked, but it was round and firm and shapely. This wasn't the first time I'd noticed that, but somehow, I managed to forget every time.

Being in control of your own feelings is really overrated anyway.

I was just hiking up the hem of her dress when Grandma pushed me flat on my back and whipped my stiff dick out. We stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before she adjusted her position and took me in her warm mouth.

The queen came and sat on the edge of the bed beside me. She stared down at me with sad, brown eyes, so unlike her mother's hungry hazel orbs. Whether they were more disappointed in me or herself, I wasn't sure.

Through gritted teeth, I grunted, "It's okay." To reinforce the point, I reached out with the hand that wasn't buried in my grandmother's blonde tresses and silently implored my aunt to hold my hand. She sighed and her slender fingers wrapped around mine.

Fuck, Grandma Kaitlin knew how to work it.

Her thin lips didn't have the nice soft, pillowy feel of her daughter's. But her tongue was nimble, her jaw capable of opening wide for extended periods, and she provided just the right amount of supernatural flourishes. I wasn't likely to lost a whole lot longer.

If the two of us had been alone, I'd even have enjoyed watching Grandma work, for that matter. Her dark eyebrows, fair skin, big eyes, and pretty little nose would make quite a sight as she bobbed up and down on my oversized cock.

But it was Iva's face my eyes couldn't bear to leave.

Did she look older?

None of us aged the way mortals do. For her part, my grandmother could easily be mistaken for a teenager by anyone who didn't look close enough. And the first guess you'd offer about Iva, if you saw her from across the room, would be that she was in her early to mid-twenties. But there were a few more gray hairs than there'd once been, and the faint hints of crow's feet were just a touch more pronounced.

I wish I knew what thoughts lurked behind those sad eyes.

Before I could hazard a guess, the orgasm I'd been fighting to delay overcame me. My balls convulsed, pumping an unseemly amount of cum into my grandmother's inviting mouth. She swallowed most of it hungrily then let me slip out past her lips and jerked me furiously, ensuring that the last few spurts shot onto her face.

It took a while longer before Iva finally joined us. And even then, her movements were hesitant and unenthusiastic. At first, anyway. Eventually, she started to get into the mood.

Of the many women I'd shared Iva with, I'd never have thought that Grandma would be my favorite. Iva didn't have the burning passion for her mother that she did for her sister. And I myself was not nearly as attracted to Grandma as I was to my mother or even my sister, both of whom I'd also shared with Aunt Iva. But the two really worked well together. At times, I was content to simply watch the two of them. And when they made me the center of attention, I felt like the king of the universe, rather than a royal prisoner.

For a while, I told myself that I should make it disappointing for them. Or, at least for Grandma. But I just couldn't. And then I tried telling myself that if I made it good enough for her, maybe she'd reconsider banishing House Orwin. But that was foolish, of course.

Not because I failed in my effort to make it good for her. I'd gained a lot of power and learned a lot of tricks since we'd last been together. And I made sure that it showed. It had probably been a long time since Grandma had been with a man who knew how to use our powers the way I did. But it had no doubt been far longer still since she'd allowed her emotions to sway her from the course that best served her interests.

And I knew that.

If I was doing everything in my power to rock her world, it was just because seeing the look on her face as I did was a huge ego trip. Simple as that.

In fact, when Grandma passed out, a goofy grin having temporarily displaced her characteristic perpetual sneer, I felt an enormous sense of accomplishment. Granted, I immediately realized how pathetic that was. But I still felt it.

Just before she'd passed out, I'd had Grandma grow an extra ass hole as well as a vagina in the bottom of each of her feet. She was more than happy to oblige, particularly when I mentioned that second part to her.

Man, that woman loved integrating her feet into bedroom play.

I then split myself into four bodies, two of which had an extra cock. One lay down on his back while Grandma mounted him cowgirl style. The two dicks sprouting from between that body's legs both went inside her tight pussy. Then another of my bodies knelt behind her and, after working her two sphincters loose and lubing them up generously, slowly worked two more dicks into her two browneyes. Finally, the last two of me each knelt at the bottom of the bed and fucked Grandma's feet. As if that hadn't been enough, though I damped down her senses overall in order to keep her from being overwhelmed by the stimulation she was receiving from my six dicks, I actually ramped up the sensitivity of her nipples and earlobes. The me that knelt behind her, fucking her hard in both her asses, tweaked her nipples in his fingers and suckled on her earlobe as he did. She'd lasted longer than I'd expected, but not for a moment had she seemed to be anything less than impressed by the pleasures I was visiting upon her.

How I'd lasted long enough to drain her dry before shooting a half-dozen loads into her many holes, I couldn't have said. Even if it hadn't felt as good as it did to be inside her, there mere thought that the woman who'd once called me a newborn pup was dangerously closed to being completely overwhelmed by my efforts was itself a powerful turn-on. Certainly wasn't anything I'd soon forget, that was for sure.

"Finished basking in your own glory?" Iva asked, draping her hands over my shoulders as she leaned in to nibble at one of my earlobes.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry."

She laughed. "Quite alright. Actually, it's kinda cute."

"Cute?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, was I supposed to say how impressed I was instead?" My aunt planted a soft peck on my cheek. "C'mon, Frank. You know you've got the moves."

"Me? You two are something else," I said, somewhat disingenuously. Not that Iva wasn't amazing. But she hadn't really pulled out many of the stops just now. What she'd allowed Grandma to do to her had made more of an impression on me than anything she herself had done, in fact. "But, um...do you...I mean, tentacles? Really?"

"What?" Iva asked. "Just because it looks freaky doesn't mean it doesn't feel good."

I shrugged. "Whatever does it for you."

"Well, that's certainly not the {only thing that does it for me," she said.

I laughed and, with great effort, forced myself to steer the conversation towards the less exciting but no less important topic of what I'd missed while I was gone.

Iva was predictably stingy with details. But she did inform me that I'd been gone for four months, and that my children were now of age, initiated, and, of course, imprisoned.

I didn't know what to say to that. It hadn't been even a week for me.

"I'm sorry, Frank," Iva said, starting to take her hands away. "Maybe I should-"

"No," I said, grabbing her hands.

I should have been mad at her. It wasn't fair to place all the blame at Grandma's feet, the way I was doing. But I just didn't have it in me to blame Iva.

"Is there really no chance I can see them?" I asked.

"Maybe something can be arranged. In time," Iva said. "For now, I was thinking I might at least be able to sell her on having you and Brianna share a prison."

I drew a deep breath. "You know, I'd really rather share-"

"Don't," Iva said. "I know, Frank. Believe me, I do. I can feel it rolling off you in waves. It's not as close to the surface now as it used to be, but it's still unmistakeable."

That stung. It wasn't surprising, perhaps, but still. When exactly had I allowed my desire for my beautiful mother to fade?

Sometime not long after my aunt had told me she'd never seen my mother as happy as she was with Bobby, perhaps?

"I'm sorry," I said. "But I have to ask."

"She'd never allow it," Iva continued, jerking her chin towards her mother, who lay fast asleep beside us. "And you may not want to hear this, but your mother wouldn't exactly appreciate being taken away from her brother. Unless you're saying you'd like me to put the three of you together in the same prison?"

"Not exactly what I meant, no," I said.

"Even if I was stupid enough to consider it, it's hard to imagine that ending well."

I sighed. Doubtless, she was right about that.

After some hesitation, I asked, "He's good to her?"

Even to my own ears, the resignation in my voice sounded awfully thick. Melodramatic even. It was a wonder that she managed not to laugh at me.

But my aunt just nodded softly. "He worships her."

As well he should.

"Like I said, though, Brianna might be possible. Mom wouldn't be so quick to object to that," Iva said. "Granted, you've both sought the throne before, as she'll no doubt remind me. But this is pretty damn strong prison, and your cousin is no longer one of the more powerful among us. With your mother's help, I suppose you {might be able to break out of here. But Brianna? Not gonna happen."