Homelands Pt. 08 Ch. 04

"Sorry," his sister said. "Didn't mean to kill the mood."

He'd have told her that she didn't if he could have. If they weren't fey.

"Probably strong enough already," Fiona said, closing her legs.

He responded to that the only way he could have. By kissing her with as much passion as possible. Granted, his lips were more reluctant than he'd meant for them to be at first. But the flames of desire quickly rekindled themselves.

In the end, Cahill gave as good as he'd gotten.

As his sister had done for him, he showered attention on other parts of her body using spectral mouths and unseen hands. Not enough to detract from what was happening between her legs, of course. Just enough to complement the main activity.

His mouth performed the most beautiful music it ever had. And musical it was, if only because an intricate tune played inside his mind while he tended to Fiona's needs.

That was the second time he'd experienced that since returning to Faerie. He wondered in passing where the sounds came from. Was Faerie reaching out to him somehow? Or were they truly of his own creation? But his focus was on shattering Fiona's resistance. He pushed the thoughts aside and let the strange music guide his tongue.

Though the orgasm that capped of the string of smaller ones Fiona enjoyed was epic, she hardly made a sound. Her nails didn't come close to his skin and her teeth assaulted nothing save each other. A flood of energy poured into him as his sister's Libido all but emptied itself, yet an outside observer could be forgiven for doubting whether she'd necessarily even climaxed. Which was, of course, entirely in keeping with her past behavior.

"You are so beautiful," Cahill said, bending down over her. The taste of his sister was still with him. Tea leaves and mint, with touch of berry. As was only fitting, the juices of her arousal were more subtle than those of other fey women. "I'm glad you didn't die."

Her lips tried to form a grin but mostly failed. Which was just as well, because they were then called upon to perform another duty.

The kiss was soft and gentle. Their mouths didn't open and their tongues sat the party out. But it was no less enjoyable for that. Seeing Fiona so thoroughly sated pleased Cahill.

"I trust you enjoyed yourself," his mother said.

Cahill spun around.

There she was, looking as resplendent and glorious and irresistible as ever. No, even more so, as impossible as that might have sounded up until that very instant. Her skin shone softly, her eyes gave off a brown light, and her mahogany tattoos were fully visible.

He almost fell to his knees, a song of praise on his lips. What woman could ever compare to her? His mother, his red goddess, was the physical embodiment of all that was feminine. Of beauty and desire. Of strength and serenity and wisdom.

"No more than you," he finally said.

"I don't know about that," she said, smiling. "But the two of them did not disappoint."

Cahill responded by making himself a little more beast and a little less man. He grew nearly three feet taller, his body hair thickened into a rich coat of brown fur, and his legs became double-jointed. Where there had once been feet, there were now cloven hooves. His antlers solidified once again. On top of that, his mouth extended into a muzzle as his face became a mix between that of a man and an elk.

"My, my," his mother said, looking him up and down.

Her Libido pulsed. It bathed him in warmth and made his huge cock throb.

"You don't expect me to just stay here and spread my legs for you, do you?" his mother asked, releasing extra pheromones that he wouldn't even have noticed if for for his present state. "You'll have to catch me first."

Cahill let out a bugle, causing the trees and ground to shake.

His mother hesitated a bit before taking off. She proved incredibly fast. Too fast, for a small biped with humanoid limbs. To make matters worse, trees allowed her to pass through as though they were no more substantial than shadows, whereas he had to go around.

But, as ever, his mother stopped every so often to look over her shoulder at him. And the look he found on her face when she did was one of pure glee. She wasn't going to make it easy for him. That would ruin all the fun. But it was only a game. If she'd truly wanted to lose him, she could have. Rather easily.

She led him on a merry chase for a good fifteen minutes before giving in. By that time, they'd both worked up a light sweat. His mother's gorgeous auburn hair clung to her bare back and shoulders beautifully, reminding him of other times he'd seen her good and sweaty.

The laugh she let out as he snatched her up off her feet filled his heart with joy. But they weren't about to hug. The elk-beast forced Caronwyn down onto the ground, amidst the dirt and leaves and twigs. He planted his knees to either side of her soft thighs and held her shoulder with one hand while he positioned his oversized shaft, more akin to a shillelagh than a reproductive organ, with the other.

"Please," his mother panted. Even as she did, she wiggled her hips at him tantalizingly. Her soft bottom rose up off the ground as she offered him a better angle. Her scent, all sweat and woman and strawberries, filled his suddenly sensitive nostrils. Though there was little enough room for confusion about the message her body was sending, he checked her Libido. It was a raging inferno of lust. He could feel it reaching out to him, trying to join with his own. "Don't," she said. "That thing'll tear me open."

The drums in his mind thumped faster and faster. His heartbeat harmonized with the unseen instruments. Everything inside him told him to ignore her words.

But he couldn't.

In this beastly form, he was far bigger than before. The spear between his legs was more than twice its normal length and girth. The tips of his fingers barely touched together when he gripped it, despite his hands having grown along with the rest of him.

He was going to go through with it. Penetrate his mother with his enormous cock. But not because the thump-thump-thump in his head compelled him to. Only because he knew his mother wanted it.

Her body adjusted itself to his unnatural proportions every bit as easily as he'd adopted those proportions. That wasn't to say it went in easily. He stretched her nice and wide. He'd worn condoms that had fit more loosely than his mother's womb now did. But as Cahill forced as much of his length inside her as she could take, sounds of pure ecstasy escaped his mother's lips. She started cumming before his foreskin felt her warm embrace, one orgasm rolling into another and another as he pushed deeper in.

"Yes, yes, YES!" she howled.

A torrent of energy poured into him. He gasped for air and clung at reality, fighting to retain some sense of identity. The point soon became moot, as his mother's frantic efforts to milk him with her womb became successful. The heavy balls dangling beneath him pumped what seemed like a gallon of semen into his mother. As they did, all the energy he'd taken from her rushed back out. And then some.

"That's it, baby," his mother said. "Fill me up." As if he could choose to do otherwise. "I can feel you all the way up there. Your seed is so strong. It's moving so fast."

A shudder ran down his spine. Or perhaps it was a tingle. He was both disturbed and aroused, simultaneously aware that he'd just fucked his mother with a cock no mortal woman could have survived yet also that her reaction was anything but conflicted.

"If I wasn't already carrying your child...super-charged as we are right now...," his mother murmured, unable to finish her sentence.

Cahill's breath caught at her words, unfinished though they were. He felt her pussy convulsing around him, squeezing his immense cock more and more desperately. Begging him to go another round.

Had he been torn over how to react a moment ago? What nonsense.

Her wish was his command. Slowly, he started working his hips again, driving his battering ram against her cervix again and again.

So thoroughly did he stretch his mother's cavity, he could feel the spongy flesh of her g-spot rubbing against the underside of his shaft. He'd felt it before, but never so clearly. So prominently. Save, of course, when he pleasured her with his fingers.

"Ah ah ah," she gasped, each exhalation carrying a little more urgency. "That's it. Give it to me, you beast!" she snapped. "Breed your own mother! Fill me with your hot cum!"

To judge by the reaction of her Libido, a sensation of pure pleasure was rippling through her body as she approached yet another orgasm. Her vagina gave a violent contraction, her cunt-walls stretching to allow his steel-hard cock to push deeper only to clamp down hard on him once more an instant later then repeat the cycle all over again. The most unbearably perfect tingling ran down the length of his dick. Part of him wanted to stop, to offer his poor body some brief reprieve from the relentless onslaught. But he knew he'd never escape her. She held him tightly inside her, and her inner muscles were too strong. And part of him couldn't have been more thankful for that fact.

As he erupted once more, he surprised himself with the sounds he made.

In his moment of ecstasy, he'd forgotten that it wasn't a man's tongue inside his mouth, nor a man's lips through which the rumbling passed.

That only seemed to excite his mother further. She pumped her hips wildly a few more times, taking as much of his length inside her as she could, before she collapsed to the ground.

As Cahill's boulders pushed more and more semen into his insatiable mother, he felt the aftershocks of her tremendous orgasm. Several minutes passed in silence while they waited for their bodies to finish processing all the ecstasy they'd brought one another.

Without returning the rest of his body to its natural state, Cahill adopted a man's face. His face. He slowly withdrew from her irresistible cunt, shuffled down until his head was level with hers, and kissed her hair. "I love you so much," he said before kissing her again.

"Mmm," she said, stroking a massive furry bicep as she did. "I love you too, baby."

"That was...wild," he said.

The drums had stopped. He wasn't sure when, but they had.

"I know," she said, making that four-letter word sound like a four-letter word. "Guess you got my message, huh?" she added, giving her hips a wiggle.

At his present size, that little maneuver caused her delicious ass to jiggle against his upper abdomen. Not quite the same. But still nice.

"Maybe," Cahill replied. "Maybe I just decided to try something new out."

"Right," his mother said. She rolled over onto her back. As she stared up into his eyes, she played with the soft fur on his chest. "Well, glad you did then."

As he kissed her, he slowly returned to his fey form. The antlers remained, and his chest didn't become as smooth as it would have if he'd slipped into his true form, but the difference in their heights was now better measured in inches than feet.

His mother wrapped her thighs around his waist and pulled him towards her.

"Again?" he asked.

"Do I have to talk you into it?" she asked, raising those beautiful eyebrows.

Cahill laughed. "Not hardly. Just thought you might need some time to recover."

"Whatever for?" she asked.

He stared at her flatly, unsure whether she was mocking him or not.

She promptly cleared that up. "Wait. You don't...think that was...the biggest dick I've ever had inside me? Do you?"

"Ha ha," he replied, over-enunciating.

Not that it even mattered. He liked the idea that he'd helped her explore uncharted territory, but other than that, there was no reason to care. Wasn't like a mortal woman telling her lover that she'd been with bigger guys.

"Anyway, I guess no one can compare to Gallech," he said without thinking.

They fell quiet at that.

It was bad enough that he kept forgetting about Oona. Faerie customs differed markedly from those of the Dreaming. Having sex shortly after learning of a loved one's death did not dishonor their memory. Not according to the fey. But quieting the part of his mind that still saw the world through mortal eyes wasn't so easy.

His brother, on the other hand, was still alive. And in need of his help. Even by fey reasoning, they were being incredibly selfish.

They'd done all the preparing they needed to do. Had borrowed all the power Clan Walker had to offer. Fooling around with each other could help them climb higher still. But it wasn't the same when neither partner was giving much up.

It was high time they paid the queen a visit.

"I'm sorry," Cahill said.

"Shh," his mother said, pressing a finger to his lips. "We both know what we need to do. Let's just do it and not waste any more time."

He nodded.

They kissed once more, briefly, without passion. Then Cahill climbed off his mother. After clothing themselves silently, they joined hands and left the Emerald Court.

#

A stone wall surrounded the grove. It consisted of unremarkable white stones and stood no higher than his knees, but something about the barrier humbled him. He could only assume it was infused with glamours, which might or might not be defensive in nature.

Beyond the wall lay a grassy field, dotted here there with ash and oak and thorn trees. He'd not seen the three together anywhere else in Faerie but here. He'd almost begun to doubt the importance of the old triad. But now he understood. Only here, where none save the queen and her brood were welcome, did the three stand side by side.

Near the center of the grove stood two particularly large oaks. One was so tall and thick that a respectably-sized office building could fit inside it. The other wasn't nearly as big as its brother, but it still dwarfed any other specimen Cahill had seen here in Faerie, where all the trees grew larger than their counterparts in the Dreaming. A bed of beautiful white flowers, consisting of roses and lilacs, hydrangeas and callas, daisies and buttercups, lay before the smaller of the gargantuan oaks. Everywhere else he looked, save for that one flower bed, he found only grass and trees.

"That must be where-" he began.

His mother shot him a look that silenced him immediately.

Shame filled him.

They weren't here to do a bit of sightseeing. He should have his guard up, lest the Lady of the Shadows take them by surprise. With a thought, he extended a few invisible feelers out in every direction. The bits of glamour wouldn't tell him much more than he already knew, unless of course they came up against other glamours.

As he'd suspected, the grove was guarded by much more than a pile of smooth stones. Should anyone but the queen herself set foot inside the wall's perimeter, she'd know it.

In fact, they needn't even enter the grove. The moment he tapped an outer stone with his glamour, he felt something in the wall activate. On one level, the rocks remained white and dull. On another, they glowed every color of the rainbow.

"What did you do?" his mother whispered.

"Nothing," Cahill said. "I just-"

He never got a chance to explain.

All of a sudden, the sky darkened. The perpetual twilight found throughout Faerie gave way to pure darkness, if only for an instant. A crack of thunder murdered the pall of silence that had hung over the grove. When the dark receded and the faint light to which he'd grown so accustomed returned, Cahill saw that they were no longer alone.

A tiny little woman sat atop the stone wall, legs crossed and hands tucked beneath her thighs. She wore a loose dress of pale yellow, nearer to cream than gold. Despite the modest attire, though, there was no mistaking her. She was Titania, the Queen of Faerie, and no chess piece could do her beauty justice. Her lips were purple and her platinum blonde hair was streaked through with soft purple, dark green, bright red, baby blue, and burnt orange. Her eyes changed color by the instant. But that didn't matter. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Not the most desirable. Nevermind the fact that some part of his brain remembered to be afraid. Even if she'd been as kind and sweet and gracious as mortals believed fair Titania to be, even if his heart hadn't been claimed by the red goddess standing beside him, Cahill wouldn't have longed for the queen the way some might. She was too small, however large her breasts might be relative to her frame. Her calves were slim and lean, her thighs shapeless, and her hips narrow.

But even if she wasn't quite his type, Cahill knew true beauty when he saw it. And that was Queen Titania, to a T.

Suddenly, he had no trouble believing the old tales of mortal men wasting years of their lives completing insane quests, all in hopes of being granted a mere glimpse of her true form, only to have their hearts stop the moment she revealed herself. Beautiful women were not rare in Faerie, but none quite compared to her.

So stunned was he by his liege's beauty that Cahill nearly didn't see her companions. Only when he heard his mother ask, "Gallech, is that you?" did his eyes turn to the knights.

Each wore a full set of lacquered plate armor, complete with a great helm. Their weapons were the sort of ferocious, oversized, wickedly shaped objects found so often in video games yet so rarely in use throughout history. The shorter of the two wore red armor and carried a great sword. The taller wore black and wielded an twin-bladed axe decorated with a skull.

"Sweetie?" his mother asked again.

The knight did not reply.

"He only speaks when I ask him to," the queen said. She had a small, sweet voice. A casual observer might have mistaken those words for a bemused complaint, the sort made by high school girls about their emotionally retarded boyfriends. But Cahill understood it for what it was. "But yes, Red once answered to that name."

Red.

If there was a living being underneath all that steel, he was doing a good job of hiding it. Gallech didn't so much as turn his head. He just stood there, doing his best impression of a statue, holding his sword up in front of his face with both hands.

"Your sister named this one Reilly," the queen continued, pointing towards the other knight with a bare foot. "But now he's just Black."

Of course. Cahill should have guessed that. It was hard to believe that his fiery cousin could stand so still though, let alone hold his tongue. Finnegan, maybe. But Reilly?

"They're not quite done yet, but they're getting there," Titania continued. Tapping one foot against the other while sitting on her hands, she looked like a little girl. Not a fearsome ruler of several worlds. "By the time I'm through fixing them, they'll be the envy of every fey. Men will want to be them, and women will want to be with them. But they'll be all mine. My prettiest toys."

The anger Cahill felt inside his mother's Libido almost set her robes aflame. He felt as though he was standing next to a bonfire.

"Red, Black, take your helmets off," the queen said.

They did as instructed.

Cahill heard his mother's breath catch in her throat. And he couldn't even blame her.

Gallech had always been quite the looker, but now he was nearly as beautiful as the queen herself. Only that made him sound more feminine than he looked. He was more of a pretty boy than either of his brothers, to be sure, but even women who preferred their men more masculine would find that face difficult to behold. He seemed taller, too. It was hard to say with the armor, but Cahill suspected Gallech was nearly of a height with Seamus now.

His cousin had undergone a similar transformation. Reilly was pale even by the standards of the fey, with no hair on his head save for the red tuft under his chin. And though it was no longer true that the nicest thing one could say about his face was that it was plain, he wasn't nearly as handsome as his brother or his cousins. Still, there'd been a time when Cahill had thought the boy would have looked more at home in a skinhead prison gang. No more. What little excess fat he'd once carried had melted away, revealing strong features and his crystal blue eyes practically sparkled.