Bloodlines Pt. 04

His lips finally found her's as his legs started to cramped. Her lips parted under his probing tongue and slowly she opened to him. He thrust into her harder, his need taking over. Her tongue slowly responded, wrestling with his as he felt her start to tremble. He wanted to make it last, to prolong what little pleasure he could give her but his cock betrayed him. It pulsed and throbbed, aching for release. He tried remaining motionless, but her hips were already writhing, her pussy griping at his cock. Need overwhelmed him as he erupted inside her, his tongue intertwined with her's. Suddenly she started writhing and twisting, her body shaking as his cock pulsed deep inside her.

She twisted her head away from him and cried out as her pussy began convulsing, the muscles gripping at his cock. Ian held her, a small sense of satisfaction building within him as he felt her cum. She looked up at him and smiled, her eyes wet with tears as her body continued shaking.

"Get out! Get the fuck out!" his uncle screamed as he stumbled out of bed and collapsed to the floor in a choking heap.

The look on the woman's face immediately changed to absolute terror as she pushed Ian off and scrambled to her feet. Moments later all four women were rushing toward the door, holding what bits of clothing they could to cover their nakedness.

Ian stood up and looked down at his uncle. The old man glared at Ian before returning to his choking fit. Ian smiled, as he slowly got dressed. As he reached the door, he glanced back, smiling as he stared at his uncle sprawled on the floor, choking and gasping for air. Ian actually hoped he would die, and didn't feel a bit guilty.

Ian wanted nothing more than to rush and grab Ayra and Tia and flee this mad place, but he knew he would never make it far. They might be guests, but Ian was certain that term was only loosely applied and the guards were under orders to keep them here. Besides, their only chance at a new life was locked up somewhere in the house.

Chapter 11

Ian arrived back at his room and stepped inside, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized it was empty. He stripped off his clothes and threw them on a chair before adding some coal to the fireplace and climbing into bed. He hoped sleep would overtake him quickly but it was not to be. Instead he stared at the ceiling, expecting to hear shouts of alarm raised, and guards rushing in to haul him away.

Instead everything was quiet, and slowly he started to relax. His eyes closed and the muscles in his legs softened, sleep seemed about to take him when he heard the click of the door. There was a cool draft, and then the door clicked again. He peered out, just as a shadowy figure moved cautiously toward his bed. His muscles tensed again until the fire flare momentarily and he recognized Jouseen.

"What the..." Ian said, sitting up.

"Relax, lad." She said, moving quickly to the bed and sitting down beside him.

"Jouseen, I don't ..." Ian said, looking at her.

"Oh Gods, lad. You think I'm here for..." she said, her smile visible in the glow from the fire. "Don't flatter yourself. I admit you are tempting, but not so much for me to risk the lady's wrath. Oh hell no. I just come by to thank you."

"What? Thank me for what?" I said, relieved.

"For what you did tonight. Grisha told me what happened. How you, uhm, how you treated her."

"Grisha? Who is... Oh, Grisha was the ..."

"Grisha is my daughter, and yes, she was the girl in the lord's bedroom. She said you treated her, well that you treated her with kindness. It made me think that perhaps I was wrong about you. That maybe you aren't like your uncle, maybe you're more like your father."

"You knew my father?" Ian said, sitting up.

"That's a story for another time, but yes I knew your father, I knew him well." She said, reaching out and grasping his hand.

"I am sorry about... about what happened with..."

"Don't be sorry, lad." She said, squeezing my hand. "That is, unless you are feeling sorry for yourself. I came here to thank you, to thank you and to warn you. What you did today, and tonight, what you did has made you some enemies, some very dangerous enemies."

"My uncle?" Ian said, an edge to his voice.

"Your, uhm, uncle may have been dangerous once, but no more, and never to You. He huffs and puffs, and makes vile threats, but he wants his bloodline, his name to continue. He is no danger."

"But then, who?"

"There are those who would like nothing better than Lord Brayden to die with no heir. They would not act in open rebellion, at least not yet, but if they see weakness, they will act."

"Shadows in the night? Such warnings don't help much. I mean, how can I be careful when I don't know where the threats are?"

"They're all around you, boy. Think about it, who gains from Brayden's death if he has no heir? Who gains if you are that heir? Those are who you should be careful of!"

"His wife, for one. She wants the house to continue, but under her control, she is smart, and vile, and cruel, but even she is less dangerous than the other. The other seeks power at all costs. That one can hide what they want, disguising their true self until it is too late. They are the greatest danger."

"The other? But I ..."

"I will say no more. You will know them when they show themselves. Hopefully it will not be too late."

She stood up, turned and walked out of the room. Ian considered following her, pressing her for more information, but he doubted it would do much good. She had impressed him as one not likely to succumb to pressure. Instead, he sunk back into the bed and stared at the ceiling, his mind racing a mile a minute trying to make sense of what was happening.

Ian finally drifted off to sleep only to be wake up as the door opened again. Ricah stepped into the room accompanied by a young woman holding a lamp. She pushed the door closed and walked toward me, untying her gown as she approached.

"It seems your visit with my husband did not go so well." She smiled as she let her robe drop to the floor.

"No matter. He is not long for this world anyway. I am sure you couldn't help but notice the blood in his spit. He will last long enough however, long enough to see you appointed heir, and then, well, after that it really doesn't matter does it?" she said as she climbed onto the bed, her fingers reaching for Ian's cock.

Ricah looked over at the young woman and nodded. The woman placed the lamp on the table and walked to the bed slowly, her lips trembling as she looked at Ian.

"Don't dawdle, girl." Ricah scolded sharply and the girl jump, hurrying over to the bed and climbing between Ian's legs.

Ian looked from the girl to Ricah and back, trying to figure out just what was happening. The girl replaced Ricah's fingers with her own, and slowly stroked his cock. Her lips trembled as she moved her head closer, looking up pleadingly at Ian.

"Quit wasting time." Ricah growled, grabbing the girl by the hair and jerking her head toward Ian's cock.

The young woman opened her mouth and slowly encircled his cock, her lips compressing, holding him fast as her tongue worked his shaft. Ian's cock quickly hardened despite his confusion. He looked from the woman to Ricah and back, wondering just what was happening.

"That's enough." Ricah said, slapping the woman on the ass.

The woman screeched and jumped back. Ricah grabbed Ian's cock as she slowly straddled his hips, her fingers quickly guiding it to her already dripping pussy. She slowly slid down his length, shuddering as inch by inch he filled her.

"He might not be huge, but he's big enough. And he has the bloodline to boot." She thought as she slowly began grinding against him, feeling his cock deep in her pussy.

Ian cursed at himself as his body betrayed him. He couldn't help himself, and his hands reached out to grab her hips, as he began thrusting into her. Her hands dropped down onto his chest as she leaned forward, her mouth inches from his face.

"That's it, fuck me." She whispered, her hips moving in time with his.

Ian clawed at her as he thrust upward, pulling her hard against his groin. He wanted nothing more than to cum and be done with her. She smiled, as if reading his mind.

"That's it, boy." She gasped, "Fuck me like you mean it."

She forced herself back upright, little gasps being forced from her mouth as he hammered into her.

"My plan is..." she thought, her mind wandering as her body started to tingle.

"Oh, yes. That's it, fuck me you bastard." She hissed, clawing at his chest as she writhed on top of him.

Ian's need quickly changed to anger and he twisted, his cock buried deep inside her pussy. Ricah let out a yelp, not expecting the sudden move, as she fell onto her side and was turned immediately onto her back, as Ian lifted her legs into the air and slammed into her with every ounce of strength he could muster.

Ricah's surprise turned to anger, and then to pure pleasure as she felt his cock driving deep into her, the throbbing shaft quickly carrying her toward her own orgasm.

"You will ugh.. You will do ugh...You will do ni...ni...nicely." She finally managed to gasp as her vision blurred and her body went rigid.

Her convulsions were enough, and Ian grabbed her hips, holding her fully on his cock as he exploded, his cum blasting into her pussy making her gasp wide eye until he collapsed on top of her. Several minutes passed before Ricah finally reached up and pushed Ian off her. She sat up and looked over at the woman who stood in the corner.

"Get him ready again." She hissed as she stood up and walked to the window.

As she opened the shutters, Ian could see the sky starting to lighten. He started to sit up, when he felt the woman's hands on his legs. She knelt down, her fingers gently gripping his cock as she looked up at him. There was a sadness in her eyes, a sadness mixed with fear.

Ian smiled at her, as she slowly guided his cock into her mouth. He reached his hand down to gently cover hers, as he stared into her eyes. He wondered if he had it any better than she did, or if he was just another pawn in his aunt's vile plot. Still, he had a role to play, and family to protect. He relaxed, letting the woman's mouth slowly bring him back to full hardness.

"You recover even better than I had hoped." Ricah said, as she grabbed the woman by the hair and pulled her away.

Ian started to get up, but Ricah pushed him back onto the bed before climbing on top of him. She wasted no time settling into position, her cum drenched pussy easily accepting his rigid pole.

As she slowly rotated her hips, relishing the feel of his cock buried deep within her, Ricah couldn't help but smile.

"Brayden thinks to make you heir. He is planning a future he knows nothing about. You will sit on that throne, you will lead this hold, but you will do so at my bidding." She said, her fingers digging into his chest as she felt his cock drilling deep inside.

"His master of arms will be here soon to start your training." She continued, talking as if they were at a table discussing the day's activities instead of sprawled out on his bed with his cock buried deep inside.

"Learn those lesson's well, boy. But don't put out so much effort you lack the energy to serve the real ruler of this hold." She continued, her pace slowly increasing.

"I may not be what you had dreamed about as your future, but it is what it is. If you want to fuck your mom, do so, if you want some young serving wench to warm your bed, that's fine. Just be ready to fuck me whenever I have a mind for it." She said, her pace no quickening, as her hips began rocking back and forth, pressing her pussy against his pelvis.

"Fuck yeah, that's what I've been missing." She growled, her fingers pressing so hard into his chest he swore he saw trickles of blood.

Her hips started thrusting wildly, as she leaned forward, her fingers digging into his flesh as she leaned down, her lips inches from his face.

"I might be needing this a bit more, ugh... a bit more than, ugh..." she grunted, as her pussy began convulsing, her head swinging from side to side as she shook violently.

Her movements became sporadic, sudden thrusts and twitches, as he felt her pussy collapsing around his cock. Her eyes were closed and she was mouthing words soundlessly.

Ian remained motionless, his dick might be hard, but his desire was not. He let her ride his cock, all the while imagining it was Ayra. Even that did no good, his need still remained absent. He tried to recall the feeling he had felt with her, the mutual need. It was unlike anything he had ever felt, except...Grisha had needed him, needed him like that, and he...

Ricah rolled off him, breathing deeply. She patted his stomach and sat up.

"That's more like it. I would say go and service that slut mother of yours but you don't have time. You'll have to settle for this one." Ricah said, standing up and waving the woman over.

"Send her to me when you're done." Ricah said, as she quickly dressed and walked out of the room.

As the door closed Ian glanced over at the woman standing by the fireplace. She looked back at him fearfully, her trembling fingers slowly untying their dress. He shook his head and stood up, surprised at how weak his legs felt.

"That won't be necessary." He said, walking over and grabbing a pair of pants from the closet.

"But Milord, I..." she started, her dress around her waist.

"I said it isn't necessary." Ian shouted, resisting the urge to grab his boot and throw it at her.

"I'm sorry, Milord. Perhaps you would prefer..." the woman said, her face a mask of utter terror.

"Look, I'm sorry." Ian said, suddenly filled with guilt.

"It's just, well I really don't, I mean, listen, uhm..." he said holding out his hand.

"It's Kireen." She said, holding one hand to her chest as she accepted his.

"That's a pretty name, Kireen. It's just, well I really don't need, I mean, I have to go work with weapons, and doing this would make my legs weak."

"You wish to wait until after your training?" she said, her fingers trembling as she held his hand.

"No! I mean, yes, perhaps after training." He said, forcing himself to smile.

"I... I can wait." She said, as he pulled her toward the door.

"That's not necessary. If I have the energy, I will send for you." He said, opening the door.

"But Milady, she..." the woman said, fearfully.

"Just tell her I was, uhm, tell her I was well satisfied." Ian said, realizing that he could well be getting the woman into trouble.

Chapter 12

Ian's training in combat went better than he had feared. The master at arms, Hindor, was a gray bearded man with one eye covered by a black leather patch and a limp that hinted at some old injury. He actually treated Ian decent enough, and even joked a bit about the goings on in the hold.

"The old man wasn't always such a cock sucker." He said, as he strapped the buckles of his breastplate.

"Back when he was young he and your father used to be quite the pair, always trying to one up each other." He said, as he handed Ian a blunted sword.

"We're training with real weapons?" Ian said, testing the weight of the blade.

Hindor laughed as he strapped his scabbard to his side.

"These ain't exactly real weapons, boy. But I don't train with the wooden ones. These won't cut ya, but they'll leave a bruise that will help you remember far better than the blows from a stick."

He wasn't kidding and by the end of the two hour training session Ian was hurting in more places than he could count. He was also able to block about half the blows Hindor threw at him.

"You're not bad, boy." He said, leaning heavily on his sword as Ian rubbed his ribs, wondering if he hadn't cracked one or two.

"Not good, but not bad. I think we can call it for the day." He said, clapping his hand on Ian's back so hard Ian let out a gasp.

"Thanks'." Ian managed to say, his ribs burning as he tried to breathe. "I still think I'd prefer wooden swords though."

"I'm sure you would, but then you wouldn't be as motivated to stop the blows now would you?" Hindor laughed as he handed Ian a wineskin.

"Your father and uncle, they'd practice for hours. It was quite the sight watching those two, like dancers they were. They'd slash and parry, swords clashing non-stop and almost never land a blow. I could of given them newly sharpened swords and felt comfortable watching them spar, they were that good."

"I never thought they got along." Ian replied, trying to think of his father and uncle sparring.

"They did fine when they was young, before all this mess." Hindor said, gesturing at the keep. "Money, it has a way about it, boy. If you're not careful it will eat you alive, and if it don't, there's them it attracts that will."

"I never wanted any of this." Ian said, staring at the ground.

"I know ya didn't boy. Don't much matter though. You got thrown into it, and now you're stuck." Hindor said, taking the skin from Ian's hands and squirting a long stream into his mouth.

"Still, it's yours now, and that means you're a target. People will find ways to try and use ya, even friends and family."

"Even my weapon's master?" Ian said, as he took the wineskin and squirted a stream of the bitter liquid into his mouth.

Hindor laughed loudly and slapped Ian's back causing the wine to spray everywhere.

"Naw, I don't have no care for such. I'm more than content with what I got. A bed to sleep in, food to eat, all the wine I want and a scared lad to beat up on, what more could I ask for?"

"You ever thought about having a family?" Ian said, feeling like he was actually talking to his father, or maybe grandfather.

"Me! Why I'd rather be fed to the dogs than be married boy. Now don't get me wrong, I like me a woman every now and then, but not one to tell me when to get up or what to wear. Naw, just keep em around long enough for a good roll, then send em on their way. That way they don't expect much, and they come back around just in case."

Just then a young boy came walking up carrying a package wrapped in burlap.

"Thanks, Kyl." Hindor said as the boy handed him the package.

As the boy walked away, Hindor handed the package to Ian.

"I thought this would be better worn than in some chest." He said, handing the package to Ian.

As Ian started to open it, Hindor put his hand over Ian's.

"I would open that once you're back in your room, boy. And wear it under your shirts." He said, pressing down on Ian's hand.

"Now, I have an appointment with a seamstress." He said standing up.

"Jouseen?" Ian said, surprised.

"She likes to do more than sew, boy." Hindor laughed, giving one more slap to Ian's shoulders before striding off.

It wasn't until he was halfway across the practice yard that Ian realized the old man wasn't limping.

Ian sat for several minutes, trying to sort out things in his mind. It seemed Hindor had known his father as a boy. He hadn't said what had happened to create such a rift between his father and uncle, but he had hinted that it had something to do with this place.

Already worried about his aunt, and her demands, Hindor's words only added fuel to the worry he felt. When he finally stood Ian was surprised to find the ache in his ribs and side had eased somewhat. By the time he had walked back to his room he was actually feeling pretty good. He had a guard take a message to Ayra letting her know he would be stopping by.

Chapter 13

"Are you sure Milady?" Jouseen said, as she finished the last stitches on the bodice of the dress.

Ayra looked at the woman, forcing herself to smile. In truth she was more scared than sure. Still, the path had been set, and she must walk it or risk losing everything.

"It will be fine, Jouseen." She said, as she stepped in front of the polished mirror and examined herself.