The Royal Line Pt. 03

Chapter Three: Hale

Baron Hale of Hawkshead, passed the reins of his horse to a waiting groom and, pausing to clap the lad on the shoulder, exited the stable yard in the direction of the Hawkshead Keep. Though it would have encompassed barely a tithe of the immense bulk of Castle Grey—Hale's childhood home—the Keep was still a forbidding structure. The first Baron of Hawkshead had ordered it to be built atop the high hill whose peculiar shape gave his fiefdom its name. From this place of strength he had commanded the loyalty of the lands for many miles around. Time had weathered smooth the heavy black stones since then, but had done nothing to make the walls less defensible or imposing.

The two men-at-arms on duty outside the double oaken doors saluted smartly as Hale approached.

"Good even, my lord," said the senior of the pair.

"Good even, Haldric," Hale replied. He had become Baron of Hawkshead for less than a year, but already he knew each member of his staff, and particularly his guardsmen, by name. It was a habit of his years in Rivenland's military. A good commander knows his troops.

Passing through the oaken doors and into the hall beyond, Hale noted the torches were already begin to burn low in their sconces. His evening's ride had taken him farther afield than usual. At thirty-six years of age, Hale still had a soldier's build and bearing. His blue eyes were sharp and piercing above a hooked nose and strong jawline. He wore no beard and kept his dark hair pulled back in a short tail. A few strands of silver already gleamed among the jet, giving Hale a slightly grizzled air. Broad shoulders and thick biceps strained the finely woven fabric of his doublet and a sabre scar adorned his right cheek. More scars and weapon calluses were visible on the baron's large hands, as he lifted one of the torches from its bracket, using it to light his way up the winding stairways of the Keep's central tower.

On the second landing, Hale espied Goodwife Tyrol just entering the door the to servants' stair. She carried a guttering candle in a shallow clay dish.

"Good even, Mistress Tyrol," Hale called softly.

The elderly woman dropped Hale as deep a curtsy as her stiff limbs would allow. "Good even to as well my lord. Is there something you require?"

Hale smiled and shook his head. "Nay mistress, I am well. How fare the ladies of my house?"

The Goodwife had been the baroness' maid when she was a girl and a nurse to the baroness' four daughters' by her first husband. Though the girls were now well past the need of any nursing, the youngest two being fully eighteen years of age, it was still her habit to checking on the young ladies every evening. For this obvious devotion, and for other reasons, Hale was always careful to be nothing but courteous to the Goodwife.

"Her ladyship is fitful," she admitted. "The babe in her belly wakes her with kicking and her back and feet pain her."

"Do you judge it serious?" asked Hale. "Shall I send for a healer?"

"Nay, nay milord," the Goodwife assured him, shaking her greying locks. "She endured worse during her last confinement, for all that she was not then one and twenty. And grumble though she will I know she is glad of the chance to make you an heir before her bearing years are done."

"That may be some ten years hence," Hale pointed out.

"Mays and ifs make beggars of princes," the Goodwife chided gently, as though Hale were a thoughtless boot boy and not the lord of the Keep. "Though, truth to tell, I hope you are right. I should like to see my lady thronged round with pretty children to keep her smiling when I am gone."

"That is what I hope for too," said Hale. "Though I pray she may have your company as well for many years to come."

"Thank you my lord," said the Goodwife smiling.

"And what of the young ladies?" Hale asked as Goodwife Tyrol turned back to her dusty stairwell. The look she gave him was sharp and knowing, but Hale thought there was more of indulgence than condemnation in it.

"I would hazard that they fain more weariness than they feel, my lord, and a little of my raspberry tea seems to have quite settled their stomachs."

"What would this little family do with out you mistress Tyrol?" Hale said with feeling.

"I could not say, my lord" she replied wryly. "Though I dare to guess that with or without me it should not stay a 'little' family very long."

Hale chuckled warmly and the Goodwife bobbed another creaky curtsy before departing. The Baron of Hawkshead proceeded upstairs and, laying aside the snuffed torch aside, entered his solar. A great four-poster bed dominated the center of the round stone room. The heavy drapes of rich, wine-colored velvet were drawn, but Hale could make out the soft rustle of cloth and low whimpers that issued from behind them.

Frowning, Hale moved to the foot of the bed, one hand upon his belt knife, and twitched open the curtains. In the center of the bed, lying on top of the tangled coverlet was Baroness Bountiful of Hawkshead. She was alone and utterly naked, her pale skin radiant in the moonbeams that stole in through the chamber window. Her eyes were fast closed, but her eyelids flickered and breathless noises escaped her slightly parted lips. Her long ash blond hair was damp with sweat and further beads gleamed on the swollen mounds of her belly and breasts. More than eight moons with child, Bountiful was a tight as a drum and large enough that the casual observer might have been forgiven for supposing that she carried a hippopotamus' foal rather than a mere scion of House Greyleon. Her bosom, which had been large enough to startle men into slack jawed wonder since she was a girl of thirteen, had only expanded further with every child she bore, while losing little of their exceptional perkiness. This new pregnancy was no exception and the mounds of quivering flesh that now bounced and shook as the baroness stirred and whimpered in her sleep were truly enormous.

Hale's frown melted into in a broad grin. Quietly, he lifted his hand from his dagger and stripped out of his boots and clothes. His cock sprang free of the discarded loincloth with all the eagerness of a seasoned warhorse hearing the sound of trumpets once again. None could doubt that the blood of Greyleon ran true in Hale, for he had inherited King Potent's legendary length and girth.

Yet it was not with this throbbing battering ram that the baron began his conquest. Instead he bent low over his wife's crotch. The deep musk of her dreaming need reached his nostrils, filling them the bouquet of a vintage wine. A wet stain was already spreading across the coverlet where Bountiful's cunt brushed it. At Hale's request, she had begun a shaving the hair around it once a again, a practice she abandoned some eighteen years ago upon the death of the previous baron. Now though her skin was smooth as silk once more, which made it easy for Hale to see how swollen and flushed—hot and almost purple—the lips between her legs had become.

Hale's heartbeat quickened and he flashed out his hot, wet tongue. Gently, he licked up the hood that sheathed Bountiful's clitoris. The little nub was so stiff with desire that it might have been a wooden bead. Bountiful moaned aloud as Hale rubbed it with his tongue. The taste of her, warm and briny, flooded his mouth and his hunger mounted. He began to kiss Bountiful's clitoris, hard, fast, and without cessation until he was sucking on her nub like a lustful lamprey.

Bountiful awoke from a dream of water monsters to find Hale sliding two thick fingers in and out of her dripping cunt, wriggling them inside her, while he sucked lustily on her throbbing clitoris. A disoriented wave of terror collided with her arousal and set off the orgasm that had been building.

Hale felt his wife convulse under his touch and grinned as he lifted his mouth from her loins. Her juices gleamed wetly in his lips and ran down over his cleft chin. He ran both hands over the mountain of her swollen belly, up the length of her until his questing fingers brushed the quivering flesh of her mammoth breasts. He seized them roughly, drawing his thumbs hard over her stiff nipples. He was rewarded with a shuddering moan from Bountiful and a gentle trickle of pale milk.

"Hale," Bountiful gasped out. "I dreamt...it was awful...Hale, listen!"

"My ears are open," Hale said, walking himself forward on the bed so that he was bent over his pregnant wife, their eyes on a level. The tip of his rock hard cock just brushed the lips of Bountiful's cunt making her moan aloud.

"God trample on you, Hale," she hissed. "I had a nightmare."

Hale rolled his hips in a circle so that his cock rubbed more insistently at Bountiful's loins. "Really?" he asked. "You seemed to be enjoying it well enough."

"No," protested Bountiful, biting her lip in the effort of concentrating through the sensation of her lord's cock scraping over the swollen lips of her cunt. "It was awful. I was swimming in Hawkeye Lake and then there these...oh!...these things in the water, like...ooh...leeches with children's faces, only I was a child too, I think, except...ah!...except I can remember them sucking on my...oh, yes...on my tits, so I guess I can't have been. And then...oh...and then...oh, oh, never mind just hurry up and fuck me, you beast!"

"Are you sure?" asked Hale. "I can keep listening."

"Yes! Yes, I'm sure. God's horns, I just need your big cock in me right now."

Hale was happy to oblige. With a deep-throated growl and powerful thrust of his hips, he drove his cock deep into Bountiful's cunt. She hissed like a kettle boiling over and grabbed at him. One hand found the small of his muscular back and pressed down on it and in time with rhythm of Hale's thrusts, making each stroke harder and deeper than the last. Her other hand twined its fingers through his dark hair and drew his head down until his lips brushed against one of her leaking nipples. Hale licked at it, making her moan, then bit down, gently at first and then harder. Sweet milk flowed into his mouth, hot and creamy. He suckled at her and she moaned louder still.

Hale hefted Bountiful's other breast in his hand and swept over so that it was crushed hard against its neighbor. Then he crammed both of the baroness' nipples into his sucking mouth as he worried each breast with a callused hand. Milk poured into his gullet Hale feared he might choke and Bountiful screamed, high and helpless, as she came again, so hard that the solar seemed wheel and flicker with purple lights.

Hale felt he walls Bountiful's cunt ripple with the force of her orgasm, squeezing down hard on his enormous cock, and with a grunt he realized he was coming too. Hastily he pulled his cock free with a loud a sucking sound and raised himself back to a kneeling position. He spilled his seed on his wife's swollen belly, exulting over the way the rivulets of hot, thick semen oozed down the sides of the great dome of pale flesh to mingle with Bountiful's mother milk. Gripping his pulsing cock hard with his hand, he squeezed out the last few drops with a satisfied sigh.

Gently, he kissed her, feeling her spasms slow and her frantic heartbeat calm under his touch. He kissed her brow and breasts, her nose and her navel, and lastly her lips, both north and south. Bountiful let out a long sigh of her own and whispered, "Thank you."

She curled up like a cat and closed her eyes. Hale wrapped her up in the warm coverlet and lay quietly beside her until the rhythm of her breaths told him that she slept soundly at last.

Then Hale rose from his marriage bed and donned a thick robe. By candlelight and moonshine, he crept from the solar and made his stealthy way through Hawkshead Keep. He halted at the door to large set of chambers in the eastern wing of the building and softly tapped a very specific series of beats on the old oak timbers.

He heard a fierce hiss of whispering and a flurry of giggles. Then there was the quick swish of cloth and the patter of bare feet over a rush-strewn floor. The heavy bolt was drawn back with a squeak of metal on metal and the door flung wide. There was a flash of white silk and golden hair and then slender arms were twining themselves about Hale's neck. Hale smiled as he stared down into the hazel eyes of Lady Courtesy of Hawkshead, the eldest of his four stepdaughters. At twenty years old, she was tall and willowy, with berry-red lips and the hips of a dancer.

"Hello Old Hawk," she whispered and leaned up to kiss him on the mouth. Her questing tongue found lingering sweetness of her mother's rich milk, and some old, animal part of Courtesy responded to the familiar taste. She deepened the kiss, biting down on Hale's lip until it nearly bled. She leaned into him, there in the doorway, one hand tracing the line of his powerful jaw, the other already fumbling with the belt of his robe. Hale could feel the hard points of her nipples straining beneath the fabric of her nightdress, pressed against his chest.

"Come on, Courty," a voice within the chamber called. "Let him in the door at least."

Courtesy stepped back from Hale, though she did not relinquish her hold on his belt. He was forced to step quickly after her, making the candle he still held dance and flicker. By that wavering light he could clearly see how the thin silk of Courtesy's dress curled itself about the swollen roundness of her belly. She was not so far along as her mother, but against her narrower frame the bulge of the babe growing within her was even more pronounced.

As Hale and Courtesy entered the chamber, another young woman sprang up from one of the three beds that lined every wall of the room save one, where heavy velvet drapes shut out the peeping stars. This young woman had green eyes and her long hair was a fairer blond, more silver than gold. This was the Lady Delight, the second daughter of Baroness Bountiful, a bare nineteen years of age. She crossed the room in a bound, for all that she was hampered by a belly scarcely smaller than her elder sister's, and closed the heavy door with a thud.

"Now we have you, Old Hawk," she cried. Hale had just time to set the candle upon a table, before he felt Delight's warm breath on the back of his neck and the bulge of her belly brushing the small of the his back. She drew a line of burning kisses from his ear, down the length of neck across of across the broad expanse of his muscular shoulders. Hale laughed aloud, arching his back like a great cat stretching. Beneath the folds of his robe, his massive cock stirred and straightened to attention.

"God's hooves and horns," Hale proclaimed. "Anyone would suppose you girls had not seen me in weeks, your welcome is so warm."

Courtesy stepped closer and slipped a hand under his robe, running her warm fingers along the length of the baron's cock. It was as hard as an oak stave and thicker around than her wrist. She bit her berry lip in anticipation and fairly purred, "Anyone should think you had not visited us in months, your body is so eager."

She knelt down then, on the rushes and the flagstones, and let Hale's robe fall open. His cock stabbed out like the bowsprit of a mighty ship. She ran her hot, wet tongue along its length and felt her stepfather quiver at her touch.

"No fair," called a voice from the third bed, "starting in on his cock before everyone's even naked."

"Yes," agreed a second voice, close beside the first. "Bring him over here so everyone can have a taste."

"You two could come over here," Delight pointed out, as she stripped off Hale's robe entirely and tossing it aside. Courtesy said nothing, having crammed her mouth full of as much cockflesh as it would hold.

"But its cold," complained the first voice, which belonged to the eighteen year old Lady Bright.

"And we're already naked," the second added. This was the voice of Sweet, her twin.

"Already naked?" Hale laughed, as Delight bit down on his earlobe, her nails raking gently at the bulging muscles and curling hairs of his chest. "Now who's not playing fair?"

"No, Old Hawk," Sweet giggled. "We just wanted you to be able to judge."

"Judge?" Hale asked. "Judge what?"

"Who's bigger, silly," Bright explained. She slipped from beneath the goose down comforter she shared with Sweet and hurried around to where Hale could see her, Sweet following close behind. The twins were indeed naked and their matching bodies fairly glowed in the candlelight. They were shorter than their sisters, pixyish and intoxicating, with small high breasts and floating clouds of apricot colored curls. Both grinned pearly grins at Hale and stuck out their growing bellies for his inspection.

Hale leaned forward for a better look, absentmindedly driving his giant cock deeper down the kneeling Courtesy's throat. She moaned and half choked, precum and spittle oozing from the corners of her mouth. The twins arched their backs and held their breaths, each desperately trying to appear the more swollen with their stepfather's seed.

Hale scratched at his chin, trying to conceal a smile. "Well," he ventured, "Bright's belly does seem to stick out the farther, but Sweet's is certainly the wider."

"You just don't want to have to choose," Bright pouted. She had a delightful pout.

Overcome with curiosity, Delight ducked her head under Hale's arm to peer at the twins as well.

"You know, I think he's right," she decided. "I wonder if that means one will be a girl and the other a boy."

"Mine will be a boy," Sweet declared. "A lusty little lad, who'll grow up to be a great warrior, just like his father."

"You don't know that," Bright complained, but Sweet was no longer listening. She dropped to her knees beside Courtesy and began mouthing at Hale's sack and kissing the sensitive insides of his thighs and the inches of thick, throbbing cock that Courtesy had not been able to engulf. Bright hastened to do likewise.

Hale closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of all three of the young mouths pleasuring his enormous cock. He reached around behind him and his fingers brushed Delight's bulging belly. He ran his hand down over the taught flesh, the fabric of her gown so fine he barley felt it, down and further down, until his callused fingers found the warm wetness of his stepdaughter's cunt. Hale felt the rhythm of Delight's kisses increase to a frantic pace as he slid those fingers inside her, rubbing softly but urgently at her most secret of places.

"I need you, Old Hawk," she whispered in his ear. Her breath was hot and ragged with emotion. "I need your big cock in me right now."

At that moment, Courtesy at last relinquished her throat-full of throbbing flesh, coming up for air with a gasp. Before Sweet and Bright could pounce and take her place, Hale scooped them both up, one under each arm, and bore them off to the largest of the three beds. He tossed them lightly onto the coverlet, making them squeak, and the turned back to Delight, who had followed hard upon his heels. He placed his hands on either side of her waist and lifted her, big belly and all, as lightly as thistledown. Then he sat back onto the bed, between the twins naked twins, and lowered Delight onto his lap. His cock slipped up under the skirt of her silk nightgown and into her dripping cunt.

Delight threw her head back as she cried out in ecstasy, her green eyes rolling back upon themselves and her silver hair flaring out like spilt mercury. Hale tore off her nightgown, exposing the ripe peaches of her breasts. He took one in each hand, squeezing and then sucking on them, until milk began to trickle from her rock-hard nipples. Delight was rolling her hips and he was thrusting up to meet her, driving the hot battering ram of his manhood deep into her. She felt incredibly full, full and complete in a way she only felt with her stepfather's massive cock thrust balls-deep in her cunt. This was what she lived for, these perfect moments, when all her worries thawed and flowed away.