The World of Erasthay – The Son of Lust Chapter 8: The Hot Wife’s Naughty Comforts

The Son of Lust

Chapter Eight: The Hot Wife’s Naughty Comforts

By mypenname3000

Copyright 2020

Note: This story was commissioned by Ultrasound 7 and has allowed me to share it with you. This may contain scenarios and acts that I normally wouldn’t write. There will be a strong sex slave/domination theme. I will keep this from violating any cannon established in the world and I developed the mythology that drives this story.

Kurtis – Remna

The desert led right to the city.

We marched out of the sand dunes towards the walls of Remna. The city looked almost the same shade as the world we just left. Made of beige stones that towered up into the air. As tall as trees. I had pictured cities so many times in my life, trying to imagine what they must look like. I had always thought of our own camp, a collection of huts we lived, worked, and stored items in. I pictured that repeated a hundred times. Maybe more.

This…

Beyond the walls, more buildings of beige stone rose. They thrust up in different shapes. Some narrow. Some wider. I swallowed at how permanent they were. Not the huts we made out of wood lashed together with palm fronds for roofs. They built of stone with such precision. Such shape and control.

How?

“Kurtis!” gasped my sister. Lasla grasped my hand and pointed.

Farther down the wall, there was a break in it. A cave that people were passing in and out of them. Lots of people. My jaw dropped at the robed figures that moved in and out of the city, leading large animals. They must be horses or camels that I had heard about. They were pulling large sleds with wheels. Dust rose about them as they headed down a track in the rockier land where these sand dunes ended.

“So many people,” Lasla whispered. She pressed tighter against me, her body barely clad in anything. While these humans covered everything in clothes made of linen or cotton or silk. All those fabrics our mothers would casually mention but had no real context in my mind.

I swallowed. Part of me wanted to be intimidated by the river of people flowing in and out, but I couldn’t be. I had to be strong. For Lasla. Even Pyrriah looked apprehensive. She stood on the other side of me, her right arm reaching across her stomach to grab her left above the elbow. She clutched herself, eyes wide.

“I know,” said Mother. “I can smell the stink of them from here. Unwashed herder. Look.”

A flock of animals being led by several men with long poles that curved into hooks at the end approached. A metallic clank came from the bleating animals. They were gray. I frowned, never seeing their like before.

“Goats,” said Mother. “Being brought in for the slaughter, Master.”

I gripped her chain in my right hand. “Come on,” I growled. “We have supplies to buy and a ship to find.”

“We should buy weapons, too,” Pyrriah said. “That many people…”

I nodded. Thrak used his mighty ax and Angela had her sword. Xerathalasia her bow and Minx her knives. I could use a sword, right? How hard was it? We marched across the sand. As we did, people noticed us and stared at us. They had cloth wrapped around their head, their skins a rich shade of brown, different from our pale flesh. It wasn’t tan, either. They were naturally darker than we were.

Men stood at the gates. They wore black robes with spears in their hand. They glanced at us as we approached, their swarthy faces furrowing at the sight of us. We wore so little. I felt suddenly embarrassed at only being in a loincloth.

I didn’t care. I straightened my back and marched up to the gates with confidence.

“Hoy,” the first said. “Whacho you business ‘ere.”

His words were stranger than I was used to, but I understood him. “Looking for a boat.”

“Where you all come from?” another asked. “Not from ’round here, is you?”

I swallowed. “No, we’re from far away. We’re just travelers. We need a boat. That’s all.”

“You cross the desert dressed like that?” the second guard said, glancing at us. “How come you’re skin ain’t burn off? You magickers?”

Magickers… “Yes. We have magic. That’s how we got here.”

The guard flicked his gaze around my women. “You lookin’ to sell the blue ‘aired wench. She got big titties. Good money ‘ere for ‘er.”

“My mother is not for sale,” I said, anger growing in me. “Are we free to go in.”

“You got your mother walkin’ naked in a slave collar?” the first guard said, blinking. “Pater’s cock, that’s barkin’ insane. Wouldn’t treat my mam like that.”

“Maybe she don’t cook that good,” the second said. “If my mam didn’t cook good, I’d sell ‘er off. Least then my wife stop whining ’bout the old biddy.”

“So, can we enter?” I asked, getting annoyed.

The first guard shrugged. “We was just curious. Anyone can enter Remna. Least so long as you don’t got no bounties on your ‘eads. You got a bounty?”

“No,” I said and marched forward, leading my mother on her chain, my sisters at my side.

Remna bulged with people. The streets were packed with them. There were so many of them.

Everywhere I looked, more people. Men and women moving about. Vendors lined the streets, selling food, knickknacks, knives, clothes. They all had their booths. Every other intersection held a well where women drew water and balanced the jugs on their heads. They moved with a grace that was exciting to watch.

Everyone stared at us. They eyed us, shaking our heads. Not everyone here had brown skin. There were people with reddish skin and blue, even pale skin like us. They dressed differently from the locals, but they wore pants and shirts or dresses; they didn’t go around naked or in loin clothes and breast bands.

At the first merchant who sold clothing, we stopped. I was tired of the attention. He grinned at us, his teeth stained brown by something he chewed. “Got pretty robes for pretty girls,” he said. “Give good discount for little sucky.”

“Sucky?” I asked.

“Yes, yes. Say girl with red hair. She sucky me and I give good discount.”

“My sister is not blowing your cock,” I growled when I realized what he meant. I didn’t like his eyes staring at her tits. She was mine.

She glared back at him. “You bring that dick anywhere near my lips, and I’ll bite it off!” Fire flared down her hair.

He laughed. “She got fire in her. I like. Give big discount to poke her. Geurdan have good cock. She like poke. Poke hard.”

I seized him by the front of his robe and hauled him close. “How about I go to your house, find your wife, and give her a poke? How does that sound?”

“Like my wife have good time,” he said, grinning. “She like young man poke her. She got good cunt. You like. You like much. I give good deal on my wife cunt. Yes?”

I thrust him back. “You’d sale your woman to another man to use?”

“Of course,” he said. “She’s my wife. Why else marry woman if not profit from her body? Now, if you won’t let me poke the redhead, how about the slave. Mmm, she’s got big tits. I could warp them…”

The reptilian growl coming from my dragon-mother cut him off.

“Right, right, well, no discount then. You buy my very fine clothes. Just the finest. You like. Make women look pretty and not like they are whores for sale.” The man shook his head. “It cruel to parade them around like this and not let honest merchant rent their pussies or mouths.”

“Only our brother gets our pussies and mouths,” said Lasla, clinging to me.

The man gasped. “Pater’s cock, incest? Only the gods can enjoy that. Go, go, I no want sell to you. Incest! Sister-fucker! Phaw!”

I spat back at him then I boldly cupped both of my sister’s asses and led them off.

“I can’t believe that,” Lasla fumed. “Incest is bad? It’s the greatest thing in the world.”

“He’ll sell his wife’s cunt like she’s a common whore, but the idea that my pussy is only for my brother is disgusting?” Pyrriah snarled on the other side, her hair flaring red.

“Incest is not… accepted wildly,” said Mother. “I should have warned you. I had grown… complacent. You will find it sometimes, often sisters who will enjoy each other for the titillation of others. Or a mother and daughter sharing a man. But a brother and his sisters, or a father and his daughter, is seen as wrong as most places.”

“Pater fucked all his daughters,” I growled. “He married Slata! His daughter! I bet there’s a temple to her here.”

“He’s Pater,” our mother said as if that explained it all. “The gods are allowed to do as the please.”

“Well, we’re demigods,” I growled, marching up to another clothes merchant. “I want to buy clothes, and if you even think about offering to fuck one of my women, I’ll punch you in the face.”

The slender man blinked. “Do you have gold?”

I picked up a pouch full of the coins from the bottom of the antlion nest and shook it.

“Then, good sir, I won’t dream of offending you. Let us find the proper attire for your women to wear so these mistakes are not made by others.” He glanced down the road to where his competitor glared. “Geurdan is a pig who would sale his own mother’s cunt for a brass half-penny.”

“Good,” I said.

We purchased clothing. Mother frowned and muttered something about being charged too much, but it all seemed silly to me. These coins didn’t do anything. On the island, I might have traded a knife to my sister for a fishing net she made. Something that was useful for something that was practical. But these coins…

Why did they love them so much? Because they were shiny.

We were wrapped up in clothing. I was in a dark blue robe that belted at my wrist with a braided cord of leather. On my head was a wrap of white cloth tied in place. It was made of linen and surprisingly light.

Pyrriah had a green robe, though hers was cut differently to hug the curves of her body. A thicker belt cinched her waist, pulling it the cloth tight over her hips and across her rump. Instead of a cloth wrapped around her head, she just wore one draped over it and then held in place by a leather band. Lasla and my mother had matching dresses, purple for my sister and red for my mother, the color contrasting with her blue hair.