Carson Evolved Ch. 11

So, you don't miss...oh gods, what is that? Carson and Cara looked at her in concern, but her focus was elsewhere.

They watched as a tear rolled from her eye. She turned and smiled at the both and said, She's going to be beautiful.

Who? asked Carson, curious if his hunch was correct.

Sam stepped to him and placed his hand on her belly. Our daughter.

With that, there was the familiar sinking sensation and they all found themselves back in the moment of bliss. By the time it ended, Carson had ejaculated such quantities that the excess had leaked from where Sam's lips hugged his shaft and left a slimy trail across his sack and thigh.

Her orgasm complete, Sam collapsed forward, bracing herself against his chest. "Congratulations," said Cara. "My son and your daughter, conceived on the same day."

Sam looked at her in surprise. "You're pregnant too?"

Cara nodded. "Very early this morning, Carson gave me his son."

Sam threw her arms around her aunt. "I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed. "You've been waiting for so long, and I just know you're going to be an amazing mommy."

Thanking her, Cara said, "It's all because of you and this amazing family. I can't believe how much I love being a part of this. Thank you, Sam, for loving me enough to bring me along." She paused and looked at Carson before saying, "I have a feeling of belonging, of purpose, for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever."

Carson drew both tight against his chest and thought, I don't know what's going on, but I thank the gods that I have these women in my life. Aloud, he said, "I love you both so much. I can't wait to meet our children."

Kissing them each soundly, he wasn't surprised when they then kissed each other. Watching that kiss, though, resulted in a stirring in his loins, which Sam felt.

She looked at him with a smirk and said, "Someone likes to watch his girls play with each other, doesn't he?"

Carson just shrugged and nodded.

Sam seemed to think for a second before her eyes lit up. "In that case, since we already know I'm pregnant, I've got all this extra cum inside me. I wonder if someone would like to see someone lick that load out of my pussy. Any ideas?

Cara and Carson looked at each other, and without a word, Carson slid to the side, making room for Cara to take his place. He felt Sam sliding off his cock; when he cleared, she clamped a hand over her opening to keep everything from leaking out.

When she settled over Cara's lips, she pulled her hand away. Then she smiled at Carson and sent him the following message: Fuck her. Fuck her hard and make her scream into my kitty. I want to cum all over my slut aunt's face while my stud husband bangs the fuck out of her.

To both their surprises, they heard in their heads, Do it! Show your bitch what her man is like when he owns her slutty pregnant pussy.

Carson and Sam looked at each other in surprise, then grinned at each other. Sam reached down and grabbed Cara's thighs, holding her legs up and wide. Carson then proceeded to slam his cock into her pussy repeatedly. Sam got her wish only a couple of moments into the action, which made her smile and mouth: "Do it again."

He'd set out to test his limits, and by the time the three of them dropped to sleep hours later, he felt like he had a good idea of where those boundaries were. Each of the women had taken multiple loads in her pussy, in her mouth, and one each in their asses. Between the three, they'd explored every combination of man/woman or woman/woman and positions they could recall; it was a surprisingly comprehensive list. The women seemed especially surprised at how inventive Carson way. He was too, until he realized that in his musing about what to do next, his nanites had sought out and provided a virtual encyclopedia of sexual positions and techniques.

Falling asleep as the meat in the Cara and Sam sandwich that night, Carson felt a different kind of satisfaction and peace than he could recall ever before. They were his; he was theirs. It felt perfect.

*****

Over the next couple of weeks, as word about the new experiences of Cara and Sam with Carson leaked out, and especially over their pregnancies, the Lionesses began to encourage him to explore this new talent with each of them, hoping to gain some of what the Pride referred to as "Mate abilities."

What Carson took out of the night with the redheaded duo was a new sense of peace and confidence in his ability to please and pleasure his lovers. His Lionesses shared their delight in his newfound dominance. Of course, Mila and Tilda had relished his abilities in this arena previously, but all the women had found him to be more vocal, more aggressive, and generally more dominant in his bed. As a result, the members of his Pride were constantly buzzing in anticipation of their next turn in the schedule. They'd all agreed, it was time to add another batch of cubs to the Pride.

He was content with his position in life for the first time in recent memory. There remained the unanswered challenge from van Heuval, though. It gnawed at him when he was away from his girls. In his moments at home, he quietly surveyed the Lionesses to see how they'd feel about his pursuit of Isana van Heuval. They all were eager to see him expand his harem, for varying reasons.

Some were excited to see him that much closer to completing the task of mating with the other eleven golden lines. Others just wanted to see him get his revenge against Jozef van Heuval.

Lying in bed with Cara and Sam, who seemed to have decided that they would share Carson in all ways, all the time, the topic came up again. They had become unusually aggressive in encouraging him to find new women to impregnate. When he asked about it, neither could articulate why, but each felt led to bring new women into his life.

Thus, when he asked them about Isana as they rested between rounds of lovemaking, he wasn't surprised at Cara's response. "I don't see why you're wasting time. Get in touch with her, take her out to a nice dinner, then bring her home and pound her into submission."

Sam seemed to agree. "Her father challenged you, my dear. He made a mistake, and you need to demonstrate what happens when he makes a mistake. You need to bring her into the family, asap. Hell, I'll record it so you can send him the footage of her begging you to knock her up and screaming when she feels your load hit her womb."

He was intensely aroused by their comments, but when they took it a step further, he couldn't help but go into overdrive. They took turns role-playing as Isana, begging him to fuck her harder, pour his cum deep inside and knock her up. They didn't even look like the woman, but the idea was so intensely erotic, he found himself looking forward to making it happen.

When he contacted Isana the next day, she seemed surprised to hear from him.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Isana, this is Carson Jayne. Hopefully, you remember me."

"Of course I do, Mr. Jayne. It's not often I make an offer like that and get turned down."

"Well, I apologize if I offended you. That was not my intent."

"Offended? No. Bruised my ego, maybe."

"Would me taking you to dinner help your ego? Because you really are a beautiful woman, and I'd be delighted to spend time with you. That night was...the timing wasn't right. I hope you understand."

"Afterwards, when I had a chance to think about it, I understood. Not to worry. Besides, you're asking me to dinner now, so it's easy to get over it. When were you thinking?"

"Would this evening be too soon?" he asked. "This has been on my mind for a while, and I'd like to make things better between us as soon as possible."

Isana shivered at hearing his words. She wanted things to be better between them too—a whole lot better. Night after night she went to bed replaying the images of Carson and Aria together in her mind. She wanted Carson more now than she had at the time, and his refusal to be manipulated into bed made her want him that much more.

"No, tonight isn't too soon."

"Good. Would you like to meet me somewhere, or can I come pick you up?"

If he picks me up, then he'll have to take me home, too, she thought. Who knows what could happen if I invite him in then? "How about you come pick me up? I'll send you the address."

"Perfect," he said. "I'll send you the details, once I have a reservation." He hesitated before continuing. "Isana, I really am glad that you said yes."

The words came out of her mouth seemingly before she thought about it. "I think you'll find, Carson, that I'll say 'yes' to a lot of things where you're involved." Once the words hit her ears, she blushed, glad that he couldn't see how embarrassed she was.

Carson, though, decided to play right along. "We'll see about that, Isana. I think you'll find I can be pretty demanding."

Isana shuddered as his words pierced her to the core. Oh, demand away, Carson. Demand away. But she replied, "Well, I guess we'll see how things go, then. Won't we, Carson?"

Dinner that night was a revelation. Isana was a lovely woman on the outside, but Carson was delighted to find that she shared virtually none of the characteristics he associated with the van Heuval clan. He found out, for example, that she used the test about guys wanting her to gain access to her family as a way of weeding out men she found undesirable. As she put it, she wanted "men whose intellect was inflamed as much as their loins" when she was around. Thus, she generally downplayed her family connections and name, in the hopes of finding someone who wanted her for more than a steppingstone.

An even bigger, pleasant surprise was to find that neither was a particularly big fan of her father. Isana admitted that she would always feel affectionate towards the man; he was her father, after all. But she resented the overbearing approach he took towards her life. Like many of the younger generation of women in Orriri, she desired to have more control over her destiny, and that of her future children.

The meal was at a trendy bistro along the waterfront, not far from his office. The evening was pleasant, though it was getting late in the year. Despite the cold breezes blowing off the ocean, the couple decided to take a short walk to talk some more. Carson purchased coffees to go as a means of staving off the chill. As they walked, Isana reached down and twined her fingers in his.

"I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a date so much, Carson."

He smiled and said, "Fortunately, I'm blessed to have a number of wonderful women in my life, so I have plenty of nice dates. I'm pleased to say that you surprised me a little tonight, though."

"Oh? How so?" she asked.

"For one, knowing your brother and father, I didn't expect you to be quite so...unpretentious. You're very different from how I imagined you would be."

Isana flushed under his praise. Softly, she said, "That means a lot to me. I've seen Jordan in action, and of course, my father is who he is. Some of my half brothers and sisters aren't so bad, but they're older and have their own lives. I don't really see them that much. Except for my mom, mostly I just get embarrassed about my family's name."

Carson stopped her. "You can't change who they are, Isana. All you can do is live life the best way you know how. As the golden rule says, if you treat people as you'd like to be treated, it will come back to you as well. For what it's worth, I can hardly believe you belong to the same family."

She smiled big and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Carson."

Discarding the last of her drink, she wrapped her free arm around his and leaned her head on his shoulder as they began to walk again. They hadn't gone more than another fifty feet when Carson began to feel a kind of buzz in his head. Coming in his direction was a mature woman, late 50s to early 60s in age. She was leisurely strolling along, seemingly without care. Even from a distance, there was a dignity to her bearing. Her hair, though mostly gray, was nevertheless worn long and free, and it trailed away in the breeze.

Protecting her from the chill was a heavy cable knit fisherman's sweater with a cowl neck, black. She wore jeans and tall riding boots. Draped across her shoulders was a tartan shawl that she held tightly wrapped around her in her hands. As he watched, she stopped and looked around, as if listening for something and trying to find its source. There were a few other couples walking, and she seemed to examine them all briefly before moving on; she didn't seem to be finding what she was looking for.

Carson and Isana continued to walk towards her, the buzz in his head getting louder as they approached. When they were about twenty feet from the strange woman, she stumbled and almost fell, catching herself on the handrail of a nearby stoop. Carson hurried to her side to offer his assistance. Upon reaching her, however, the buzz was nearly deafening in his head.

"Are you okay?" he asked, trying to ignore his discomfort.

She was staring at him, wide-eyed. Her eyes were piercing blue, like ice chips. Up close, her face, while obviously not that of a young girl, retained the traces of what must have been a truly stunning visage in her younger years. Today, she had what Carson thought of as a handsome woman's face, lined and wrinkled, true, but aging gracefully.

"I am fine, young man," she said. Even the tone of her voice was like warm honey to his ears. She continued to look at him, searching his face for something.

"I'm glad to hear it. Let me help you up," he said, grasping her hand and elbow.

Once she was upright, she assured him that she was okay. He noticed that she didn't seem to be able to take her eyes off him. It was a little unnerving, if he were to tell the truth.

Convinced that she was alright, Carson took a few steps away, then turned back. "Are you sure you're okay? My car's not far from here. We can take you anywhere you need to go." Isana nodded in agreement.

Again, she assured him with her words that she was okay. As he looked at her, though, in his mind he heard, I would speak with you, maighstir òg.

In his head, it sounded like she said, "Mistair Auch." Overcoming his surprise and assuming there was a reason she was using head-talk, he sent back, No, my name is Carson Jayne.

He saw her smile. My apologies, Mr. Jayne. I called you 'maighstir òg.' It is an honorific, meaning 'young master' in my native Scottish Gaelic.

The rest of the conversation took place within a few seconds' time. It was, literally, at the speed of thought. Having another person with his talent seemed to increase the rate they could communicate.

Oh. Thank you. Can I ask you, how are we doing this?

She seemed surprised at his question. You are not aware of what you are? How is it possible?

It was now Carson's turn to be confused. I don't why that might be, but I don't know what you're talking about. I only recently developed this ability. As far as I knew until a few minutes ago, I was the only one who could do it.

You are truly untrained? Even in his head, Carson could sense her skepticism.

I swear to you, I have no idea what you're talking about.

She seemed to weigh her words before she replied. Mr. Jayne, you are something very special in the world. In the ancient world of my ancestors, you would be called 'draoidh,' which is where the term 'druid' comes from today. Mr. Jayne, you are a wizard.

Of all the things she could have said right then, Carson wasn't sure she could have shocked him more.

End notes:

Isana's character is inspired by the legend of Sigrid the Proud. Living in the late tenth and early eleventh century, she was reportedly a Swedish queen who refused to live by other people's rules. After the death of her first husband, she was courted by two other kings but recognized that both were only interested in her for her land and wealth. She supposedly invited them to a party where she burned them and their men to death after they fell asleep from too much drink to discourage future suitors. Maybe just a legend, but I thought it was an interesting one.

I wanted Carson's story to take a mystical turn, and I've always enjoyed reading about the ancient religions of northern Britain and the European continent, so I chose to tie Druidism in. Fair warning and an apology to anyone who is more familiar than I with the basis of the religion, or with Scottish Gaelic language. I will do my best to get translations and pronunciation right (with the help of online translators). However, this is fantasy-fiction, not historical research, so it may depart from reality. Just do us all a favor and swallow it with a grain of salt in the spirit it's intended.

Thanks for reading,

—MB