Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*****
I continued to hold my mother. Her body beguiled me with the returning lust that I had experienced earlier in the day with Ellen. The wet drops of water that she hadn't been able to wipe off slowly, sensually, dripped from her form. I could feel her shivering arms in my hands. Whether she was shivering because the room was cold, or because I had so swiftly restrained her was up to debate if anyone dared care.
My mother continued to look at me with an expression of fear and anger. Now, my mother was not known to be a fearful woman. The life of a pirate has an interesting way of cutting and scrubbing the disease of fear from the mind and body. She was no different, but it was different for my mother now. She was weak, ill, and pale. These conditions have their ways of worming fear back into the spirit.
I dare none to make the mistake that I do not respect my mother. A true pirate respects his roots as much as his own ship. That is why I would take charge of this family, and that is why she would bend to my whims. I knew what was best for us.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my mother shift one of her legs. I frowned. With as much strength as I'm sure she was barely capable of mustering, my mother tried to strike me between my male oranges. However, I had already known she would do this, and I had been around many a woman who tried to do the same. Many a bilge rat think with their cocks, but they also think with their sacks as well. One knee or sharp hit to those is enough for a lesson to be taught.
I raised my leg and blocked my mother's attempt at freedom. Her eyes widened when she saw that I already knew what she was planning. "That wasn't nice, mother. If I were any less of a man, nay if I were a man-child, I would have struck you for that," I spoke.
"And you think you are any less of a man when you dare put your hands on your mother and shame her like this?" My mother asked me. I held her arms tighter.
"Would you have listened to me otherwise? I know you, mother. You're as stubborn as a whale during a harpoon hunt. You call this shame? The only shame is us living this decrepit lifestyle! I pay for your medicine and you do not get any better. Options I have tried to create, you have shut down. I desired to work as a cabin boy, you told me I was too weak to brave the seas. I desired to work in the taverns, you claimed I wasn't good enough to collect coin or serve ale. I bought a boat to learn fishing in the hopes that I could fetch a hefty coin with the merchants, you turned it into firewood!"
I listed and listed all of the transgressions that she had placed against me. "Heh, you work as a cabin boy? You're damn right you can't. The only waters you've known are our bathtubs! You work in a tavern? You can hardly fight! You want to fish and sell? What do you know of business, boy?" she asked me with fire and steel in her voice.
I suppose when I hear these things now, she might have had a point. I did not know business well growing up. I wasted money and funds on senseless adventures. Even the money I had loaned from Ellen was done without my mother knowing. She did not know that I had gone on a brief voyage to try and pay off that debt from earlier. Instead of my mother working as a wench in the Dead Tales tavern, I became one of Ellen's workers without my mother knowing.
Try as I might argue, she did have a point. I used to be a good for nothing boy with no redeeming qualities to speak of. It was only through my grit that I paid Sothshore back all of her money. Nevertheless, that argument did not hold weight anymore. Of course my mother did not know I wasn't the same boy she had seen last time, but I did. No pirate worth their ship goes back on a promise, especially not I.
"What I can and can't do will no longer concern you, mother. First change, you answer to me now. I'll manage the house and all of its affairs. I will supply the funds for your medicine my way. Anything that you want done in the house or out will go through me first. If I find that you're going behind my back and doing things you shouldn't then I'll have to discipline you," I said. Naturally, I did not tell her what sort of discipline I had in mind.
"You'll discipline me? What, like give me a spanking? I think the sun has roasted that tiny brain of yours, boy. You...," I did not let my mother finish. I took both her wrists into my left hand. I then brought her chin up with my right until she directly looked me in my eyes.
"Second change, you will also not call me boy ever again. You will either address me as Eric or Sir. Deviate from either of these and I will punish you," Fear, weakness, reluctance, none of these words were a part of my being at the moment. I said these words as if they be my will written in stone for our household. Just as I tolerated no insubordination upon my ship, I would not tolerate the same from my own mother.
"You...," My mother began, but the words died in her throat. She withered beneath my powerful gaze. She slowly succumbed to my strength, my pressure, and my will. Her frantic motions to free herself were slowly dying down. What was left was a pitiful resistance which merely delayed the inevitable.
Right now, she could do nothing but agree. I had her naked, vulnerable, and weak. What could she say or do to oppose me? She had already tried her only attempt and it failed. She could only look at me with anger and an embarrassed flush on her face. I think I be stating the obvious, but seeing this reluctance was delicious as well.
"Third change, if I ever see Dorin or Zahi in this house again...," My mother widened my eyes. Yes, she didn't think I knew about those two men who came into our home. They were not wealthy men, but they were better than us in terms of financial stability. In order to acquire food or spare money, my mother often gave them certain...pleasurable favors.
I had kept my mouth shut about it because it wasn't place to bring it up, but now that I had wrestled the authority of the house from my mother. I would allow no man in this house without valid reason!
"Am I understood?" I asked of her. She turned her face away from me, but that only served to raise the fires of my ire. This third rule, I would not allow it to be broken. Even if the pits of Tarkarthias opened those men would never set foot in my house again. If they wanted a pleasurable night then they could spend their time in the brothels or rat-infested taverns.
I grabbed my mother's face and turned her back to me. "Am. I. Understood?" I asked, making sure she heard each word expel like thunder from my mouth. I must have scared her because her arms started shivering under my might.
"Yes...Eric," she answered. That was not enough to satisfy me.
"Repeat what I just said!" I exclaimed to her. My mother was going to learn that she could remain her defiant self if she wished, but I was the law in our household. No one stood above me.
"Dorin and Zahi are never allowed in this house ever again. If they are, I...guess you'll do something about it," she said. I could tell the tone in her voice was not completely of the respect I wanted. I could feel her lingering defiance. I would stamp it down. I reached for a short throwing knife on top of her dresser. I then made her jump when I grabbed it and stabbed it into the wall mere inches from her face.
"Do you remember the first lesson you ever taught me, mother? Only start fights...that you can finish! Use that tone with me again, and I'll make you regret it," I said. She offered no retort.
I unhanded my mother. Her frail arms dropped to her side, and then she moved them to cover her private treasures. I turned around and knelt to grab her fallen towel. "Get dressed. We're going out," I ordered. I threw the ripped towel towards her. Afterwards, I sat in my hammock and watched her wrap the cloth around her body.
"I went out today. I can't go out anymore this week," she responded, a flickering piece of steel in her voice.
"I said we're going out. I know what you can and can't do. I'll be waiting at the door. You have ten minutes," I said. I found some other clothes to wear and left the room without another word.
I dressed myself in another room, and proceeded towards the front door.
There I waited.
By the tenth minute, I noticed my mother come from behind the hallway. She wore short, black leather pants. I don't remember where I stole those from, but they offered a rather tantalizing view of her legs. Her shirt was made of white fabric with at least six buttons. I had stolen that as well.
Lastly, I noticed the dagger holster. It be obvious that I don't need to say how I acquired that for her as well. If you were to ask me, I would be hard-pressed to tell you what in this house I hadn't stolen.
"Alright, I'm here." she said.
"I'm here, what?" I questioned her. Her face scrunched up, but she did not test my patience further.
"I'm here, Eric." she responded.
Satisfied for the moment, I nodded. I then grabbed her by the arm. I felt her uncertainty in the brief resistance she displayed when I opened the door. She never went out twice in one day. Her body was unable to take the strain, but what she was going to realize was that today wasn't a normal day.
"Don't worry, mother. I know what I'm doing," I told her. She was still resistant, but I pulled her outside our house. I took in a deep breath of air while I watched the sun hit her face. I noticed that the storm which had been coming down from earlier was gone. The wooden planks to our home were still soaked with water. I could see it drip to the roads below.
I figured we had burned enough of the sun's light and started walking. From the sound of the planks, my mother stayed close to me.
We entered the busy streets of the island. Men and women, poor, rich, and in-between walked the wet streets. Boots and sandals splashed in puddles of water. "Where are we going?" my mother asked me. I glanced left and then I glanced right. Everything appeared to be the same. If that were the case...
I grabbed my mother's arm and took her down the right road. On the island of Draegnar, everything is nearly a maze. A constant ascending or descending stairway that leaves most foreigners lost. The structure of the town seems to twist and wind in a way that drives even natives mad. Homes, merchant stalls, weaponsmiths, blacksmiths, and grub halls were all connected to each other.
After some time, I stopped in front of a local merchant. His stall was just as ragged as he was. His old beard looked like a washed-up crow's nest. Scars littered his face like a battlefield, and his breath stunk worse than a whale's. His merchandise was the poorest I had ever seen. Rotten fish, infested krill, and decaying shark bones, the type of stall that no one turns their nose to unless they are at their end rope. Behind him stood the door to a shop, and that was my goal.
"Still selling junk, Pete?" I asked. My mother quickly took notice of where I had led her and quickly moved to a safe distance. I didn't mind that. I would have told her to back away anyway.
A hoarse cough greeted me. "Don't call it junk, you little sea urchin. What you have here is high quality shit that even those lousy Florians would want to get their hands on. How 'bout it, Kid? I got you 20 fish for 1 silver coin! I got 50 krill for 2 silver! No higher or lower," he said.
I chuckled to myself. Perhaps, I should weave a tale of Pete for you. You see, Pete was a fisherman, and a pretty damn good one at that...or so he claims. When I was young and he was not an old pile of skin and bones, I listened to many of his tales of trying to catch legendary sea creatures ranging from the mythical Kraken to a harem of Sirens.
When I was in my former life, I wrote these stories off as mere entertainment, but my time in my first years as a Captain could not have prepared me for so much. I still don't know if he ever actually tried to catch these things, but my crew and I had done battle with a Kraken before. We barely made it out alive...even with my powers at the time.
Anyway, in my old life, there was a secret about this old man that I hadn't known until much later. I doubt anyone on this island, save for the few contacts Pete has, knows about this guy's lifestyle. When I had come to know it, he was already gone. If he was a damn good fisherman, then this helped convince me.
"No Pete, I'm not here for your scrawny fish, nor your seasoned krill. I be looking for something more...robust than these. I can't feed my mother this," I claimed. A brief glance back showed that my mother was paying deep mind to my conversation. She released a rough cough. I held no doubts that the air was getting to her. I would have to get her inside quickly.
In response to my claim, Pete blew a cloud of smoke into my face. "I like you, brat. You know this is all I sell. I don't catch Kraken tentacles or Kresant wings like I used to. I'm sorry for your mother, Lad, but I can't give what I don't got," He replied to me.
My mouth thinned. "Tell me, Pete, how much do you know about the tides? I hear when the sun shines, the tide smiles. When the sun sets, the tide frowns," I said. I grinned when I saw the nonchalant smile on Pete's face vanish in mere seconds. He turned in his old, wooden chair to face me. He stared at me for a long time. He took another deep inhale of his smoke.
"Laddie, this be the real world. I might be a jovial old man, but not everything in life can be taken as a joke. You'd do well to remember that," he hissed at me. I resisted the urge to cover my nose. His breath was enough to make my nostrils itch, and I have been bathed in a river of gunpowder and blood nearly all my life.
I knew where Pete was going with this. I knew the phrase to enter the door behind him. Only a select few individuals held the might, the grit, the gall, to enter there. "You're a tough old bastard, Pete, but even I have secrets that you don't know about. Now stand aside, unless you think you have the strength to stop me," I replied to him.
Pete looked at me for a longer while. He then took a wide inhale of tobacco from the cheap cigar he was smoking. "Fine, you brat. I'll get my answers some other time," the old fisherman said. He scratched his beard and knocked on the door five times. Once that was done, he got up from his seat and moved away.
"Mother, come here. We're going inside!" I called. With the power of the sea and waters at my side, I isolated the strong fish smell with the water that naturally flows in the air. Such an act be mere child's play for me.
"If I get sick, I'm going to punch you, bo...Eric!" My mother quickly corrected herself. I had noticed her slip up, but I decided to let it go. I ushered her inside and closed the door.
"It smells like a week old skin towel in here. Why are we here? Where are you even taking me?" she asked. All of these were truly valid questions that deserved answers...if my mother was still the one in control of our family. Still, she put up with a lot today. I could tell it was making her anxious. Not only had I wrestled authority from her by taking advantage of her frail form, but I was also now testing the limits of her mental strength by taking her outside twice in one day. Nevermind that I was also taking her to a shop that she had never been to before. I supposed she was allowed one answer.
"First off, I'm taking you off that cheap medicine we've been paying for. Someone here knows has the ingredients I need to make a better medicine for you. I aim to get them," I responded to her.
"And you didn't think to tell me this before? Since when can you craft medicine?"
"Maybe you don't know me as well as you assumed. Also, would you have believed me?"
My mother remained silent after that. While we waited, I took the time to observe the shop. On the right laid shelves of materials both common and rare. Some jars were filled with bones, leaves, or even animals. Others were filled with liquid that most would dare not touch. Meanwhile, the left housed numerous books and antiques. I had not been here in my younger days so most of this stuff was lost on me, but none of this stuff was what I was here for.
Another minute passed for me and my mother before we heard the sound of boots knocking on steps. We turned our attention to the direction of the noise. To our left was an open hallway that led into darkness, and the person who revealed herself made me smile.
"Well, I'm used to meeting bitches and bastards, but not too many little bilge rats. If that old sea cretin let you through then I suppose you were referred here. I've never seen your face before. You look like a first-timer to me. Just so you know, this isn't the place to get your cannons off," this woman replied to me.
I took a moment to take the bitch with a fiery mouth in. She was a rather fit woman. She was not quite so muscular but toned in her arms and legs. A full head of neatly combed, black hair that drops just at the end of her chin is my second view. Wrapped around her rather tight body was a long-sleeved black shirt with matching pants. This be the type of woman who knew her way around a firearm and a bar fight. In my time she was much older, but now...she was a sight for the eyes.
"I want to see the owner," I said. I did not fancy the small talk at the moment.
"I am the owner," she replied. I closed my eyes and exhaled. I don't remember this place being this damn difficult. It was grating on my nerves.
"Lie to me like that again, and you won't be working for this shop much longer," I threatened. I'm sure she didn't know exactly what I meant by that threat, but that didn't matter to me. The anticipation was worth that much.
"Oh, is that right? I'd call you a brave bastard if nothing else. No one talks to me like that and walks away, especially not a wharf rat like you!" the woman then fired back. I suppose I should count that this is the second time today that a woman has pulled a pistol on me. The defiant smirk on her face was rather interesting to look at. Nevertheless, I have a motto that all pirates should know regarding guns and weapons of powder.
"The only people fit to fire guns, are those prepared to die by them. A beautiful woman like you shouldn't end up as shark food so soon," I responded.
She placed her finger on the trigger. "Thanks for the compliment. It won't save you though," she said to me. Concern grew on my mother's face. I didn't have to turn around to tell, I just knew that it did. I could tell my mother was about to do something to try and save the both of us from this situation that I had put us in, but there was no need for her to. Someone else had taken care of it for us.
Just before the woman pulled the trigger, a hand grabbed the barrel of her gun and pointed it at the floor. "Enough, both of you! Diane, you said you would remain professional. Don't go starting trouble!" a burly man said. His face was about as hairy as his arms and his chest. Had I not seen them before in my travels, I would almost mistake him for an ogre. Anyway, he finally got Diane to lower her gun.
Yes, the woman who stood before me was named Diane Burnwood. Guardswoman to the owner of this shop. A sexy lady though she be, her personality is not one that most men would dare tread. I remembered meeting her the first time I had gained entry into this place. Needless to say, but we put a few bullets in the shop by the time I left. We were not friends, but we had an understanding. She wanted to shoot me, and I wanted to fuck her. Neither of those things came to pass.
Burnwood was good with a gun. Not the best I had ever seen, but pretty damn good regardless. It was unfortunate that she had my age by 10 years. I couldn't truly pull one over on her. I tried asking her to join my crew, but she was too smart for me at the time. A stupid bet with her left me without coin and without clothing. Ah, the trials and challenges that emerge when you be thinking with your cock rather than your head. Of course, this was before I met my...Beloved.
A frown marred my face, but I took it off. I couldn't afford to think about her right now. Her time would come.
"Whatever, Goron. You deal with the damn brat then. I'm going to make myself an ale," Burnwood said. She then turned around and disappeared down the hallway. I dare not say that I enjoyed the sway of her ass while she left.
The big gorilla then turned his face to me. "I don't care who you are, but cause any more trouble in here and I'll break your arms before kicking you and the woman out," He told me. I snorted, but not out of arrogance. It be more out of amusement than anything else. After all, it's rather funny to hear threats that you can easily deal with, but choose not to.
"I'll remember that. Now can I see the owner?" I asked. He looked at me for a moment.
"Follow me," he said. He quickly led my mother and I down the corridor that Diane had walked down. I turned my head into another room and noticed the gun shooter in what I assumed was the kitchen. It became obvious to me that the shop this place would become in 20 years was not the same as it was now. Yes, I am aware of the stupidity of that statement. I tell you sea slugs to deal with it.
Anyway, he took us out of the back of the shop. I noticed there was another shop connected to the previous one by a wooden bridge. It swayed more than I would have liked, but we crossed that quickly. He then led us to another shop. The door on this shop was made of much more expensive wood. There was also a dragon's crest etched into its body.
The large man named Goron knocked on the door. "Here are the customers, Lady Liara," He said. He then grabbed the handle and opened the door. He ushered us inside. I was quick to notice that he didn't come in with us. Instead, he closed the door behind him.
Once we stepped inside, I turned to my mother. "I will do all the talking. You will not speak unless I tell you to, understood?" I asked her. My mother turned to me with a skeptical look. My eyes glared into her hard. She looked away.
"I understand, Eric," she replied to me. I then turned back to the dark, yet open hallway that greeted us. I felt an uneasy pressure flow through the room. I scratched the top of my head. Liara had done this exact same thing when I visited here for the first time as well in my previous life. That witch seemed to have an odd fascination of instilling fear into newcomers.
Soon, I heard the thump of boots on the floorboards. "So, these are my new customers. A poor, unkempt boy, and a sickly middle-aged woman. Not the usual high-end customers, but I suppose you wouldn't have made it here if the old man didn't see reason for it," a voice, almost as smooth as silk and sweet as honey, flowed through the open hallway.
By the seas, no matter the era that this woman resided in, just her voice was enough to bring me to full mast. Such a lovely, yet truly powerful woman. I would compare her to Ellen, but Liara was a woman of much more refined tastes than Sothshore. Once I returned to the seas, she would be one of the ones leaving with me. I stake my very title on this declaration.
As she appears, I shall weave to you a picture of Liara. Underlings call her Lady Liara. Customers call her The Witch of Draegnar. I call her The Walking Siren. In the simplest of terms, she, Liara Ilzahold, is a strange being. Those who know of her existence call her witch because it can only be by magic that she had lived on this earth for over six centuries without aging a single day past thirty.
There exists tales of a witch in Draegnar who sells items to foolhardy men in exchange for their souls. As I said before, only the most desperate or hardened mortals seek her out for a taste of her wares. Anyway, allow me to continue.
Liara Ilzahold is a tall woman. She stands a foot above that of the average male. Her hair is so long that it ends at the nape of her firm, delicious ass. Its black in color, but it shines like pure silk fabric. Each wave of it seems to cast a spell on the minds of lesser men and women. She is also very beautiful. A face that entices both men and women claims her. Her eyes are a rather unnatural yellow, and her pupils are like those of a predator stalking its prey. Her lips are full and dressed in red lipstick. Some like to fashion tales that she dresses her lips with the blood of virgins. Such tales would make her laugh at their absurdity.
Now then, she is very thin and fit. Whether she exercises or she weaves some magic spell to keep her shape, I don't know. I be no fool as to ask a woman about her weight. Strong though I be, I know not to arouse a woman's ire. Such a thing has destroyed more men than any gun or blade ever will. She has long, smooth legs that emphasis her height and her beauty. Her hands are decorated with mystical symbols of civilizations before my time. It would take me a whole two days to name them all.
I must also comment that it's not just her body that makes her attractive, but also her state of dress as well. She wears long black silk pants. Over them is a belt full of magical potions, elixirs, and other mystical elements. Her upper body sports a rather revealing short shirt that covered her chest but exposes her stomach and navel. I notice the markings of a magic spell in that area as well. Covering all of this is a dark cape that her shoulders support. Glory to the waters, I bet the fountain of seas inside those pants be the richest i might ever taste.
Now that I have painted a picture, I shall explain just a bit of Liara Ilzahold. Unlike Ellen Sothshore who runs the island's underworld market, Liara is a woman who delves herself into supernatural items. I became a particular interest to her when I first gained control of the seas. Try as she might, even one as wise as her was not able to understand where my mighty strength had come from.
Liara owned her business, The Root. She calls it this because her influences stretch throughout the corners of the globe like the ever-growing roots of trees. Well, it did before I ruled the seas. A war could happen on the other side of the world and Liara would know about it before anyone else. Not even I knew the depths of her information. It did not please my mind to know at the time, but I find myself rather intrigued by it now. Even I, great powers though I had, needed her help in conquering some enemies who had stood before me.
I do not know the depths of her wealth. She must have a lot to hold so many value materials and clients, but she still prefers a shop surrounded in secrecy. Her items are rare, dangerously rare, and one is lucky to be able to afford anything of hers in their lifetime. She has crafted medicines which could cure nearly any disease. She had concocted poisons that would take down a sea monster. If you want something that no one else in the world has, then you can bet your golden treasures that she most likely has it, or has heard of it.
This secrecy, I remember asking her about this, and she claimed that the best way to control the world is to make it believe that it runs itself. It sometimes made me wonder if even my rule...was a part of some grander scheme of hers. I dare not think so.
To Liara, most people want everyone to know who they are. They want history to remember them. They want bards and nomads to whisper tales of their deeds. I was...am no different. Liara, on the other hand, preferred it if people questioned whether she existed or not. Before I had met my Beloved, I remembered blatantly asking the Witch to join me crew. What had trapped me was that she did not outright refuse me. She asked me a riddle which left me sleepless for days. Only when I answered that...would she join me. I felt like a fool when I figured out that...the riddle had no answer. She merely laughed as I sailed in disturbance of this fact.
Like Ellen, Ilzahold loves money. Nothing moves the world faster than money. She collects coin like bilge rats catch food from food stalls. If I was going to conquer her, make her mine, and use her to rebuild my fleet and my pride, then I be needing to do it carefully. This was a crafty woman. Even by me coming back to my former life, she still had many years of experience over me.
Now, if one were to ask, why I would need such a woman under me, then I would answer that a part of it was personal pride. Lonely nights at sea and my dreams drove me mad with lust for her. I did not know if she had been with a man, but if she hadn't then I would be her first and her last. None would touch her but I.
Another part had to do with my revenge and my anger at my Beloved. At nights where we were alone, she would often joke that the wenches I had bed before would never compare to her. None past, nor present would ever compare the pleasure I could get from her. If there was one person who could prove her wrong then it was The Walking Siren.
Lastly, I had need of her information and her power. Something did not sit well with me about my betrayal. Oh, I had no second thoughts about what I would do to them all when I recruited them again, but a pirate relies on his mind, his wit, and his intuition when the world is against him. I did not know what, but something felt wrong to me about my death. If there was one who could aid me in discovering it, then it would be her. I know why Pete gave me such a warning. No man, god, or devil dares mess with Liara Ilzahold and expects an easy battle. However, I was never one for easy.
"I know you sell unusual materials. I need to buy them," I said. If experience taught me anything in dealing with this immortal witch, it was that fooling around with her would not work. I would need a better arsenal to deal with her.
The Great Witch smiled at me. "I have many unusual items, boy. Would you be so interested in these things as to leave me destitute and without wares to sell? Tell me, how did you come across my shop?" she asked. I chuckled.
"It appears the sea tales that tell of the All-Knowing Witch are exaggerated. I thought you knew everything," I fired back at her. No doubt my mother was looking at me like I was insane. Perhaps in some odd sense I be the most insane man alive, but one does not get to the top of the world where I was by being rational!
Liara giggled at me. It was a rather pretty, and seductive, laugh that carried itself on the still air. "Ah, so it is a secret then? I look forward to uncovering it," she replied to me. My smile widened.
"I look forward to uncovering some things as well," I strongly hinted. With her years of experience and knowledge, there was no chance that she didn't catch my meaning. I could see the slight relaxation of her body. She had heard this all before. She had often heard these things from men, or women, too captivated by her beauty to hold back their lust. In her eyes, I was no different.
"And just who are the ones brazen enough to do this uncovering? I'd like to know the names of my two most daring clients," the woman said.
"Eric Drakclaw. This be my mother, Ira Drakclaw," I introduced. I noticed Liara's face morph from its confident expression to a more...curious one. Perhaps I should have thought more of it, but I did not.
Instead, my mother responded with a grunt and a fold of her arms. I frowned. I would have to correct that behavior later. "I see. Well then, what could the House of Drakclaw want from me and my unusual materials?" Ilzahold questioned. There was a strange sway of her hips in the way she walked. I could already feel her magic warping around me. Unfortunately for her, I held a much stronger resistance than the average male.
"My mother is cursed with an ailment of Shark's Bite. You might not have the medicine, but I know you have the supplies I need to make it," I told her. I felt Liara's magic stop for a moment.
"Ah Shark's Bite. A terrible thing. Quite the rare disease, an incurable one by society's current proficiency in the medical arts. Yet, you claim I have the materials she needs. What might those be? I'd have to know if I have it in stock." she stated. I did not see the need to deny her.
"Alright, I be needing 4 Tilo Flowers, 6 Jade Shells, 10 pounds of citric grain, and 1 celtic pill," I answered. When I listed these items, not even Liara could hide her surprise.
My mother was no different. She clearly thought me insane. "Eric, are you mad?! We can't afford any of this stuff! Even most nobles can't afford even 5 pounds of citric grain!" My mother said. That was one.
Nevertheless, She was right as well. What I was asking for was easily enough to make a king hand over 100 of his personal soldiers. It was no small amount, but that was needed to cure my mother.
That was one. "Don't forget what I said, mother. I'm in charge of our finances now. Besides, there's no need to worry. We're not going to be buying it with money," I said.
Both ladies near me could not hide their surprise of my answer. Liara recovered faster. "Overconfidence is the sin of the youthful, boy. I am a pleasant and accommodating woman, but I do not haggle. Do you plan to steal my merchandise? Many have tried, all have ended up in the Ten Circles," the beautiful witch responded.
Overconfidence? Is that what she thought this was? I suppose I have come to understand the entertainment she finds in knowing things that others do not. "There is nothing to haggle about. You have something that I want, and I have something that you want. Is that not the essence of business?" I asked her.
Liara stared at me for a moment. It was rather easy to see she was trying to figure out my motives. Unfortunately, it would be a long time before she would fathom a guess. I was not willing to let that happen. "And just what, seas below, does a dirt poor, wharf rat have that I need?" she asked me.
"When you hear what I have to say, I think you'll come to see my terms rather favorably, especially when it comes to...The Lost Isles of Delverhold," I said.
The smile on Liara's face vanished away. It was almost as if it wasn't there in the first place. Her once sultry, yet alluring magic now turned violent. I could feel the rushing maelstrom threatening to wrap around me, but before it could attempt to overwhelm me, the witch ceased her assault. "I see. A gold coin amongst the belly of rats. Follow me," she said. She walked down the hallway towards her business quarters.
My mother and I followed after her. Thankfully, it didn't take too much time. We stepped inside, and a table surrounded by bookshelves of arcane tomes and mystical props laid around us. She sat in her chair. "Apologies, there is only one other chair. The others are in the process of being retrieved," she explained.
"No need for that. Mother has her own seat," I said, sitting down on the chair. My mother looked at me in confusion. To answer her, I patted my thighs. Liara stared between my mother and I. No doubt she was rather intrigued by this.
"I will stand," My mother fired at me.
That was two. Perhaps some gunshots to her memory would be needed. "I thought I told you to not speak unless I told you to. You will sit! Now sit down!" my voice thundered through the room. I could see the shiver that ran through my mother's ailing body. She clenched her fists, but lowered her head and walked towards me. She rested her buttocks on my thighs and leaned into my lap. She positioned herself to my right which allowed me to speak with my current associate without disruption.
"Sorry, you be seeing such an unrefined state from the two of us. She's as hard-headed as a sea serpent and twice as venomous," I said. I raised my hand and rested it on my mother's long legs. She felt rather cold. I decided to heat her up. I began slowly trickling my fingers up and down her long pillars.
Liara observed us curiously. "That is alright. New relationships can truly be a handful. It must make you proud to have such a strong man ruling your house," She said. My mother looked away. Her arms were trapped at her side as she felt me slowly, yet sensually tease her body. She did not respond to Liara's statement which made me laugh.
"Sorry about that. She doesn't speak unless I deem her to. Answer her question, mother...," I said. My mother frowned at me.
"Fine. UGH!"
My mother's blatant disrespect forced me to smack her legs rather hard. This caused her to jump in my arms. "Care to repeat those words from your lips, mother?" I asked.
"Y-Yes, Eric," she responded, her aggression turned down. She tried to smooth the uncomfortable sting on her legs, but I swiftly swatted her hands away. She tried to reach for it again, but I quickly slapped her legs again for her defiance. It wasn't long before my mother got the hint and lowered her hands. I then settled back into rubbing her long, soon-to-be delicious legs. I could see the way she turned her head away from me. She wanted to question me. She wanted to demand that I stop. My mother wanted me to release her from this shame that I was inflicting on her in front of our vendor, but again she had not the strength to oppose me. My mother was powerless before my will.
I gently massaged my mother's right leg before going on to admire the next one. Having been poor and living in close proximity to a woman for so long, I find it not so strange that I developed a rather...savory view of the one who gave me life. One thing I always admired about my mother was her legs. They used to be such strong, sturdy things. Years of hard labor on the high seas were carved into them only for them to be wasted by such a regrettable disease. However, that illness did not stop me from appreciating the finer aspects of my mother.
"She's waiting for an answer, mother," I reminded her. I then removed my hand from my mother's pants. However, I wasn't finished. As my mother moved her head to answer, I shocked her by reaching my right hand under her belt buckle and beneath her pants. My finger came into quick contact with her hidden undergarments, as well as her soft skin.
"Yes, having him rule our house...is better," she squirmed and I felt her knees try to stop my assault by attempting to catch me, but I was too evasive. I touched and squeezed her kneecap. It felt supple in my touch. It could feel the way she shivered from each delicate stroke. Her face was red, whether from lust or fury I did not know. That did not matter to me, but the rise and fall of her chest did.
I turned back to Liara. "Now then, shall we move on to business? I hope this does not bother a woman such as yourself too much" I lowly provoked. Yet, true to her stature and name as a Witch, the black-haired lady of magic clearly chuckled.
"I do not mind. It's not every day such things happen in my office. Though, I find myself rather intrigued. Is this a common practice?" she asked.
"Not yet. Tighten the sails too much and the mast breaks. The hide and will of a woman be no different," I explained. Liara did not comment. Instead, she pushed her body back against her chair. Her eyes remained focused.
"So you wish to trade supplies with me...for information about a series of lands which may or may not exist. I don't see how this is a benefit to me," Liara said. I gently trailed my right finger through my mother's thigh. Her breath suddenly became ragged, and she began taking longer fits of air into her lips.
"I assume many would think the same about the myths concerning you. Every myth carries the grains of truth with it. I'm offering you more than a few grains. I'll offer you an entire field," I told her. The Witch folded her arms and placed one delicious leg over the other. I admit my eyes must have lingered more than they should have, but when you're fondling your mother and you can feel your erection stabbing into the underside of her kneecap, what else are you supposed to do?
Between the events in the house, mother's second walk outside, as well as dealing with my demands, it was obvious that she was exhausted, both physically and mentally. I could feel the last vestiges of her resistance fading away. Try as she might, she was unable to keep her head from leaning against my shoulder. "Uhhh...haahaaa...E-Eric, p-p-please...," my mother panted.
Never in my life have I heard my mother say please. Whether it was please stop, or please...continue, I didn't know. What I did know was that she could not mistake the feeling of my cock against her leg. I gently rocked my hips. From our position, it was pretty obvious that Liara knew what we were doing.
"In a desert, even a puddle looks like heaven to a dying man. He finds that it's only his imagination playing with him. A wharf rat such as yourself has no ground to stand on. What good is your truth when I have met the lies of those even nobler than you?" she returned.
What she said was the truth. I had nothing to back up my claim. It would be foolhardy of her to trust a young Draegnar street rat who just came to her for the first time. Yet, it was obvious that she had not told me to leave yet. She was curious, but she would never admit it.
I closed my eyes, but my hands did not stop caressing my mother. In fact, I began moving my fingers for more northern fields. I moved them from her thighs. They traveled upwards until they rested on her navel and stomach. Her hands clenched my shirt, yet she made no move to remove me. I would have resisted regardless, but her wavering acceptance was more than enough for me to take this hint.
"The Lost Isles of Delverhold, said to contain enough treasure to purchase three kingdoms, said to have been left behind by the hands of a great alchemist who crafted the Elixir of Eternal Youth, said to be the site of an ancient library with books of so much power...that it makes even a certain Witch pale in comparison. I now wonder if you doubt me out of pride...or fear," I goaded. She seemed that she wanted to say something, but I was quicker than her. As I spoke, I slowly began to grind my erection against my mother's leg. Her breath tickled my neck as my hands began to work a spell that I knew I could conjure.
"It be a simple thing that even a Drakth bastard could figure it out, Witch. You be much older than I dare imagine. You be smarter than me as well. Sea gods know, you have traversed the mysteries of this world far longer than I. Let's form a contract signed in blood. If I'm lying, you may do with my life as you wish, but...if I'm right and I escort you there, I'll get to demand one thing from you and you will not turn it down. I'll have you swear it upon whatever heathen gods you worship," I said.
Ilzahold thought on this for a moment. Though I was fondling my mother despite our conversation, we both knew that what I was suggesting was not something someone just casually talked about. If I could not fulfill this contract, I would remain a slave to Liara until my bones turned to dust. Nevermind my plans of revenge, I would never continue in my quest for my former glory. No, I would never continue in my quest for even greater glory! But, that is where the essence of a pirate lies. The adventure, the bold steps into danger for the risk of a grand treasure. If I had Ilzahold by my side, my quest would be greater in glory and in pleasure.
"A bold claim, boy. I look forward to testing the results of my research on you as a willing participant. Very well, I'll accept this on two conditions," she said.
"And those be what?" I asked.
"For providing me with such an interestingly brief meeting, I will offer you the supplies you wish for without the knowledge that you obtain. After all, I can't trust your word. You could be sending forces I own to their deaths. It only benefits me if you take me there yourself. So, I'll forgo the information into The Lost Isles of Delverhold for now. Next, let me see you bring your mother to the highest form of ecstasy. I was recently running out of a vial for sexual fluids. Rather easy to come by, yes, but...I find myself treated to a show on the...creation process," she answered to me.
My lips curved upwards. I turned to my panting mother. "Do you hear that, mother? The Witch of Draegnar wants to see your son make you stain the floors with your lusty scent like a common tavern bitch. She wants to see your son skillfully play, and tease you. Aren't you going to stop me?" I asked as I continued rubbing her soft thighs with my erection.
My mother did not raise her hands to stop me. "L-Like I could," my mother replied. Of course, she was right. It was obvious that I was not asking my mother for permission to take her. I could take her at any time that I wanted, and she would not be able to stop me. However, a man seeks to respect his mother in all things. I would not bring her meaningless harm.
Besides, my mother could deny it all she wanted, but I could feel the wet flow of juices slowly trickling down her leg. She was enjoying what I was providing. "Didn't I say I would take care of you? I meant in all things, mom. Let me show the Witch of Draegnar how a wharf rat commands his household," I said.
I needed to say no other words. Instead of the light touches or tickles I left on my mother's body. I openly attacked her body like a poor Scathian dog attacks a bone. I latched my lips onto my mother's neckline. Her skin felt smooth to the touch and no less tasty. She wriggled her neck, possibly to try and remove the kisses I was placing on her, but all it served to do was grant me better access.
I placed rough kisses upon her while my hands quickly worked. My left hand moved from her stomach and to her chest. I chuckled when I already made contact with her nursing orbs. "No undergarments, mother? Tides below, if I didn't know any better I be betting you were expecting this," I teased her.
A hiss expelled from her lips when I groped one of her mounds of flesh. "Why...would I seduce my own flesh and blood? Y-You...ugh...bet poorly," My mother grunted while her nails clenched into her hands. I merely laughed before my right hand moved southward. I trailed along her tights carefully striking those nerves of pleasure that sent electricity to her brain. I be no man of science, but the experiences I had made this a trivial matter to do.
As I went further down, my mother swiftly closed her legs. "Mother, you have until the count of ten to open your legs to me," I said. I then started counting. My mother kept her legs firmly closed during the entire ten counts. I exhaled.
I stopped my working hands and looked at my mother. She stared back at me defiantly. "Tell me, mother, do you know what happened to the last person who didn't listen to me?" I asked. Of course, there was no way she would know, but my mother formed a look between anger, curiosity, and unease.
I turned her over. I surprised both her and Liara when I laid her over my lap. Her delectable ass swayed in the air. "Eric! Eric! What are you doing? Let me go!" she screamed. I ignored her. Instead, I stared into the eyes of my audience.
"Sorry about this outburst. She's still a little new to our arrangement. I hope this won't impact our future business together," I said. Liara offered a smile filled with lust. In fact, I watched the beautiful witch slowly spread her tongue through the shade of red on her lips. I could see her nipples poking the fabric of her clothing.
She leaned forward on her desk for a better view. "Tis not a worry. The unruly should be punished for misconduct. The only question is, how harsh is your judgment?" she asked. Oh, the old witch would find that my judgment could hold as much force as an adamantine cannon.
I turned back to my shocked mother. "I told you that I was in charge of our house, Ira Drakclaw. Yet, in the first day, you have defied me not two, not three, but four times. Three times you have spoken out of turn, and this fourth time...you have resisted my touch. You know what happens to disobedient wenches?" I asked. Never in my life had I used my mother's name until now. I was the one in control, and to defy me was to defy the very seas that she loved.
My mother widened her eyes and she tried to move, but my grip was strong. "I allowed you to either call me Eric or Sir. You settled on Eric to keep the brief relationship that we have always had. Now, for your punishment, you will call me Son for the duration of the thirty spanks of my palm I hit you with. After each, you will say 'I'm sorry for denying you my body, Son.' I suggest you do them mother. I can think of much worse to do to your frail body than this," I threatened.
My mother opened her mouth to speak, but she must have been drowning in an ocean of words because nothing came out. I could feel her shivering body on my lap. Seeing her scared drove me mad with desire, but I understood where our place stood as well. I would not harm her so badly that bruises which never fade would appear. I may be a heartless bastard to those who deserve my wrath, but I hold too much love for my mother to treat her in such a fashion...unless she desired it.
I grabbed my mother's pants and pulled them down. I noticed she strangely stopped moving her legs in futile resistance. Her pale bottom lay in full view of two lustful gazes. I touched her plump cheeks. I was going to do it. I was going to conquer...my mother. I raised my hand. "Start counting, mother," I said.
"UGH!" My mother jerked her body and offered our watcher a loud grunt. The resounding crack of flesh against flesh roared through the room. I rested my hand on her ass. My mother said nothing. A frown slowly started to form on my face. A quick glance at Ilzahold showed me that even she was displeased.
"Eric, boy, I am your mother! Why are you doing this to me?! I...AH!"
I smacked my mother's ass. She jerked her head as the pain fired through her body. I could feel my strike's power sending electricity through her body.
"I raised your ungrateful ass! FUCK!"
I swatted her bottom even harder.
"I put food on the table while you ran around the island causing stupid mischief! UGHHHHHHHHH!" She screamed. I could see my handprints beginning to shape on her lovely rear. Her strong speech quickly became a distortion of anger and sorrow.
"Did you think I liked inviting those fuckers into my house? Did you think I enjoyed blowing their smelly cocks with my mouth and hands?! I did it for us to survive! I did it! Not you, boy! ME! ARGH F-FUCK!" She cursed at me.
"Why should I listen to you? You hold me and threaten me!"
SMACK!
"You shame me in front of a woman I don't even know!"
SMACK!
"You undermine my authority over our house like I'm some weakling seadog that has not sailed for two decades! OOOOOOOOOOOOH!" My mother...moaned.
SMACK!
"Do you think I'm not good enough?!"
SMACK!
"I...
SMACK!
"Eric...,"
SMACK! SMACK!
"You stupid, ungrateful, pathetic, Boy! I've taught you survival! Why...won't you leave me to die?!"
The three smacks that I was about to deliver...never came.
My mother stopped speaking, but Liara and I could hear her sobbing. My hands slowly stopped moving. This revelation surprised even one such as I. All my previous life, I had never seen the signs of my mother contemplating taking her own life. This headstrong woman whom had made the seas rumble under the authority of her former captain was not strong enough to bear the burden that her illness had placed on her.
I now began to understand that her teachings of survival...were for me to eventually realize the fruitless efforts in my keeping her alive. I would leave her to the sea's fate and...survive!
I closed my eyes for only a moment. I then opened them.
"Because mother, I'm going to make you strong again. I said I would handle the affairs of our house. You are my treasure to be plundered by me, and envied by all others. Your body is my temple. Your heart is my house. Your mind is for me to mold as I see fit. You, my mother, are my possession. Do you think my cock will rise for a worthless wench? Do you think I would meet with one of the most dangerous forces on this island for a woman I would leave to die?" I asked her.
My mother offered me no reply.
"You underestimate me, mother. I make the choices in this house. Thus, I be the one to tell you when and where you might die! You offer no more, and no less to me. You...will submit to me!" I spoke as if my words had already been written upon stone. My mother did not speak once more.
I raised my hand for a harder strike. "Oooooh! OOOOOH! S-Sorry for denying you my body, Son," my mother said with a loud moan.
I graced my mother's hindquarters with a rewarding, if short, massage. "Very good, mother. Only sixteen more to go," I said. I raised my hand. I then swung it down.
"OH! I'm sorry for denying you my body, Son," My mother said. Her bottom was red from my touch, and her breath was heavy. She did not say it, but I could see the fruits of my labor washing down her thighs. Each smack, I felt my hand growing wetter. Each strike, I felt her brush up against my erection. Dammit, were I a lesser man I would have forgone the punishment just to have my mother's lips around my cock, but there would be a time for such an activity.
"Have no fear, mother. I will lead the two of us out of this impoverished lifestyle. I will take you, and care for you. None will tell me otherwise. This illness which plagues you, I shall crush it and bury it beneath my foot. All those riches you wish for, I shall give them to you, and you will give yourself to me because I am the head of this family. Do you understand me, mother?!" I asked as I smacked her ass again.
"AH! Y-Yes Eric! I'm sorry for denying you my body, Son!" My mother said. Her voice was not so quiet this time. Of course she had no way of believing my words, but that did not matter. If I said them, then I would make them so. My mother would not die a rat's death this time. I would raise this lowly wench of a former pirate into a legend that all the seas would remember. She would be a glorious pirate queen passing judgment over my traitorous former crew members when I saw them.
I turned to Liara. I watched the Witch of Draegnar stare at the scene before her, smiling. I noticed one of her hands was hidden beneath her desk. It was not so mysterious as to what she was doing, but each rise and fall of her bountiful chest spurred my actions.
"Ah...ugh...AH! AH! AUGH! Eric! Eric! Eric! Eric! ERIC!" My mother repeated over and over as I smacked her. These were obviously not the words that I told her to say, but so lost was my mother in her current lust that her rationale was gone.
A powerful orgasm erupted from her body and onto my legs. It felt rather odd. Her climax reminded me of Ellen's, but it was a bit stronger than the lass of the Dead Tales. Soon, my mother lowered from her climax. She huffed as her breasts were crushed between her chest and my legs. Sweat poured from her brow. Her ass was hot to my touch. The strikes I had placed made her quiver and by Davy Jones' Locker she was soaking my pants. I raised my hand.
"Two more, mother." I said. I gave her no time to react. I smacked her with the same brutality as the other strikes.
"Ha...ha...haaaa, I'm sorry for denying you my body, Son!" she said, her energy depleted. She was crushed beneath the weight of my firm discipline. I knew it would take more time for us to establish this relationship, but that was fine. I could wait.
"Very good, mother. I'll make you greater than any captain you've served under," I said. I think struck her once more. Her muscles clenched from her legs and into her arms. She fell limp over my knees. I could see the corner of saliva falling from her open lips. I could see the redness of the cheeks on her face from the tears of her ordeal. We stared at each other. Her eyes seemed honed on my red palm. I could not decipher the look in her eyes, but it made me want her more.
"Hmmm, a rather exciting show to watch. I hope to see such a process again," Liara said. I could hear the disappointment in her voice. It would seem the great witch hadn't managed her released yet.
"It be not finished so soon, witch. I must make sure my mother has learned her lesson. Mother, stand before me!" I commanded.
It took my mother some effort, but she wobbled to her feet. I took in her unkempt appearance. There was no trace of her once neat, and orderly hair. It was wild, untamed, and free. Her clothing was disordered. Her stance was uneven. It looked like she would fall over if I left her alone.
I stood up with her. Her eyes flew downward. I followed them. We both saw my erection jutting out against my ragged shorts. I could feel the water of desire along my mother's lips. THough rational thoughts might suggest that she try and reclaim her sanity, I would not allow her to do so. A true pirate follows his own desires, and not the whims of others. The rational minds of mortal men cannot ascertain the minds of those like us.
"Now Mother, before the Witch of Draegnar, pleasure the cock that you gave birth to. Make me cum and mark your body as mine," I told her. My mother still seemed unsure, but she was quickly aware that what I wanted I would get.
She could not stop me. I was the cure to her disease. Yet, even if she had it, she would still not overcome me. I was not the boy she had seen earlier this morning. I spoke to her as a man who had been tested by the seas and oceans below for so many years.
My mother dropped to her knees.
Liara bit her lower lip. "Mmmm, there is wisdom to be found in your words, Boy. Sane minds hide away from the true powers that be in the world. Only those insane enough to challenge structure shall overcome it. Suck his cock, woman! Turn your very body into pleasure wench. Challenge the social structures of order," Liara said, her smile turned into a full blown grin. Her eyes were overcome with desire and wanton lust. I could hear the squish of her pussy beneath the desk as her fingers were tirelessly to revive the heat in her body.
My mother reached for my shorts. She stared up at me one more time. "Eric...Son, I'm still ill. I dare not think you would take us through all of this just to kill me to your lust," my mother said. Instead of reprimanding her, I touched her cheek.
"I be aware of what your body can and can't handle, mother.. It's why I haven't taken you over the witch's desk. Now...continue," I ordered. Her hands, shakingly, pulled down the rags which held my erection. I chuckled as its length gently tapped my mother's cheek. Liara did not seem too amazed, but I was not so concerned with her. She had most likely seen the rise and fall of many male erections. However, I would be the last one that she ever truly experienced.
Meanwhile, my mother looked upon my girth with a focused gaze. She was so close that I could feel her breath tickle the hairs of my fleshy pistol. A dangerous sense of nostalgia flew through my bones. It had been a long time since a warm had worshipped my cock, least of all my mother. However that made our immoral act all the more personal for me. My headstrong mother sat fully submissive to my desires. She could already tell what I was going to have her do, but the silent anticipation fueled us both.
"Mother, since you did not want me to pleasure you, then you shall pleasure me. Take my cock, this cock that you carried inside your body for many months, and...suck it," I told her. I stared down at Ira Drakclaw. She stared back up to me. My will was not to be defied.
Soon, I closed my eyes and huffed when I felt my mother engulf my cock. By the blue seas, the sparks of electricity that fired through my body made my knees go weak. I fell back into my chair, but my mother never released her hold of my pistol. I could feel her tongue trail the underside of my cock as she pushed her head further and further into my pelvis. I allowed her to take her time. I wanted to enjoy this as well.
"How does it feel, Ira Drakclaw? To accept your son back into one part of your body? Does it stimulate your body that you, who cared for this boy all his life, are not a receptacle to provide him pleasure? Your legs keep squirming," Liara said.
It was true, I could see my mother constantly rubbing her thighs together. Her rough hands trailed up my legs. Her hot mouth took my length further and further down. After my previous event with Sothshore, and this recent entertainment, I was quite willing to blow my load into my mother's throat, but I held my nerve.
Soon, I felt my mother gag as her nose reached the hairs surrounding my nether region. A very well-received deepthroat from her. She then leaned her head back revealing more of my cock meat. Saliva dripped coated it like fine oils. Then she brought her head back down. Without a word, she fell into a rhythm of deep sucking.
Up and down. Up and down. My mother, Ira Drakclaw, submitted herself before my cock. She panted while she swirled her tongue over the underside of it. I could see the drool drop down the side of her mouth, but she never stopped pleasuring me. It was not the most refined blowjob I ever had in my experiences, but it was still amazing regardless.
One of her hands stayed on my thighs while the other caressed my cum-filled balls. I do not know who my father was, but he was an utter fool to leave this woman. With some refined lessons, she could rival a high-class courtesan. My breathing grew rough. I could feel the sweat dripping from my form in my mother's indecent act. She alternated between long, deep bobs and swift, short strokes.
My mother took my cock from her mouth for a moment. Liara took the type of interject. "Ask him what he thinks, Ira Drakclaw. Ask your son what he thinks of you servicing his tool like a common wench," Liara said, her voice hot and filled with wanton desire. I could see that the look of indifference on her face had faded away. The Witch of Draegnar was now fully immersed in the debauchery in front of her. She was leaned back into her chair playing with one of her nipples while her fingers were jabbed into her sloppy pussy.
My mother licked my cock a moment and began stroking me. "Does this feel good, Eric? Am I...pleasing you?" she asked uncertainly.
I reached my hand and grabbed a fistful of her hair. "Yes, mother. You're pleasing me so well. Now, beg me to cum down your throat. Beg me to claim ownership of you and your body. Beg me...to shape your mind in whichever way I be seeing fit. You are the ship, and I be your one and only captain," I told her.
"Eric...Son, fuck my mouth and release your cock wine down my throat. Take authority from me and rule our house. You are in charge of everything that goes on around us from now on. If you tell me to walk the plank, I won't even ask which side. Let me drink your cum," she said to me.
I knew what she meant with her comment, but being reminded of the plank made me angry. I made sure to not have it show on my face, but I took a calming breath. There would be time for them all later. "To walk the plank is a traitor's death, mother. I would never unleash such a fate upon you. Now, let me show you what authority I have over you!" I said.
Before my mother could even think about what I meant, I grabbed her and forced my cock into her mouth. Her eyes popped out of her skull as I buried my length further than she had ever gone. I then began to buck my hips against her face and chin. My lust exploded into my mother's body. She raised her arms and grabbed my buttocks. Even now, she was a guiding support that allowed me to fuck her face with reckless abandon. This was not about her feeling good. It was about me getting what I wanted. It was about me getting what I deserved.
"Yes, Drakclaw. Feel the walls of your mother's mouth around your cock. Like a wild animal, feast on her body. Perhaps you two are more interesting than I gave you credit for," the witch said. Oh, she would be sure to know how interesting I was.
I turned my gaze back to my mother. I could see the small tears falling down her face. Obviously my thrusting had left her uncomfortable, but she did not complain. She dutifully found some way to suck me further down each time I pistoned into her mouth. It was such a glorious feeling that I wish it didn't have to end.
Unfortunately, as many have stated, the spirit be willing but the flesh be weak. I could feel the cum releasing from my balls and traveling through my cock. The blood was stiffening my pistol. It was locked and loaded, ready to fire forward. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. Dammit, this was going to be one of the greatest orgasms I had ever felt in all me life.
I grabbed my mother's head one last time and shoved her face against my pelvis. "Here is your reward, mother! Swallow it!" I exclaimed just in time for my cum to explode from my cock and into her waiting throat. Unfortunately, I had my eyes closed so I couldn't tell how she was faring, but thankfully Liara helped my imagination.
"Yes, Ira Drakclaw. Just like that. Accept all of...your...SON!" she said with a mighty shiver. No doubt she was having an orgasm as well. I could hear the way her desk gently rumbled from her movements.
I opened my eyes and surveyed my environment. First, I looked at my mother. Her hair had turned messy from my touch, but I could see that not one drop of cum had fallen to the floor. Having a rather...trained use of my powers over the sea and other water-related abilities, I could control the volume by which I cum very slightly. It was definitely enough to give her a mouthful. Yet, she still swallowed it, and she even began cleaning me. Her tongue continued its job.
I then looked at Liara. The Witch of Draegnar was obviously out of breath. She sucked her fingers erotically with a pleasing smile on her face. The room was wrought with the smell of sex and sweat. If one were to enter now, there would need to be no hints as to what we had been doing.
My cock felt cold air and I noticed my mother staring at me. "Very good, mother. Just you wait. No man will ever be able to give you more than I. This...is just the start," I proclaimed. She did not speak. She only opened her mouth to me showing that, indeed, there was not a single drop of cum to be found. Her mouth had taken it all and it would be flowing into her stomach soon enough.
I picked up my mother and sat her on my lap. We were both dressed again. This time, she offered no resistance when I held her close. I placed my hands on her legs and began rubbing her thighs. A blissful sigh was all that escaped her lips.
"Well, I must say that this is one of the rare instances were business and pleasure collide. Now, don't mistake this, I shall give you the materials you have requested. I'm not doing this because of this little...play we all participated in, but I find myself curious about where a wharf rat like you has come to such knowledge. The play was merely an added incentive for me. It's not every day I see a mother surrender her body to her son, even in my lifetime. We shall draw up our contract upon a later date, Eric Drakclaw. For now, enjoy the materials from my shop," Liara Ilzahold told me.
She took out a piece of paper and filled out the form. She then handed it to me. "Present that to either Goron or Diane. They will collect your materials," she said.
I took the paper and we stood to our feet. "I look forward to future business with you, Witch of Draegnar," I said.
"Please, boy. Call me Liara. I as well look forward to interesting developments," she replied as we left her office.
I turned in the notice the Goron when we found him. He took the piece of paper and walked off. I did not see Burnwood. She must have been out doing something else, but I did notice that the sun was beginning to go down. The day would be over in the span of a few hours.
Soon Goron returned with a storage box no doubt filled with the materials I requested. "Thank you for your patronage," he said. I took the box and walked out. My mother was not far behind me.
As we entered the streets, we began to make our way back to our home. I saw no sign of Stinky Pete "Eric, what...will we do now?" my mother asked. I grinned.
"Now mother, we plan for a nice dinner tomorrow night," I said.