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Supernova
- Joined
- Sep 27, 2011
Dozens of noble homes, and yet a single scene played itself out over and over again. The leader of the family would call in their daughter, show the girl an image of a young man. "He will be attending Callista this year," the parents said in numerous variations and languages. "And it is imperative, for the good of the family, that you make your mark upon him."
Some were more circumspect. Become his friend. Become a trusted ally. Forge a relationship with him that will prove stronger than any others. Some were more direct. Seduce him. Make him desire you. Make him wish to possess you. Ensnare him with your wiles. Be the trophy he seeks to win. A few cut straight to the heart of the matter. Fuck him. Become his whore. Bind him to a bed if you have to. Do whatever it takes to be pregnant with his child by year's end.
Reactions were mixed.
In one particular home, the young lady of the house needed no such instruction. She knew his face, for she'd seen it regularly since they were children. She needed no motive or explanation, for their betrothal was a fait accompli and only time delayed their marriage and consummation. She received only a warning. Do not let any of those common harlots steal what is *yours.*
And in one house that had a son instead of a daughter, Lady Anni Rellarien es Ivorek pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply. "Despite my best efforts," she declared to the room's other occupant, "I have failed. The tutors have proved inadequate or retired themselves, the Institute refuses to accept you, and you have most thoroughly burned every bridge, favor and piece of social capital I might have used to avoid this most dreadful of outcomes. Though it pains me to say it, yout final year of education will be spent at Callista Arcanum."
"Such a tragedy, Mother," Duncan Rellarien said from his spot upon the couch, lounged back as if to mimic the snoozing feline atop the mantel. "Did you try sniffing quite pointedly at the Headmistress with your eyebrow raised? I've seen it work wonders. Or perhaps a withering glare. Yes, just like that."
Lady Rellarien shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Do *not* vex me any further, child, not tonight."
"A child of twenty, practically still in nappies."
"Bad enough you have wasted years of courtly training-"
"I learned those lessons quite well, I simply choose not to apply them."
"-made your father an utter laughingstock-"
"Father does an excellent job of that on his own."
"-and proven yourself an utterly irredeemable rake," she snapped, the tone carrying a not at all veiled threat should he interrupt any further. "But now I am given no choice but to release you from my careful surveillance and trust you will somehow avoid bringing absolute disgrace to this family. With absolutely no faith that you will follow through with the decisions that have been made for your best interest."
"I wonder why that might be," Duncan muttered under his breath, too quietly for Mother to hear. It didn't stop her from sending yet another devastating glance, the sort he'd seen reduce a maid to a quivering pile of tears in seconds.
"Perhaps I have somehow failed to impress upon you the importance-"
"Oh Gods, this again."
"-the *importance* of your lineage!" the lady declared, an only mildly quieter alternative to shouting. "Generations of careful selection and marriages, countless years spent tracking the descendants of the greatest who ever lived. Morgan Le Fay, Circe, Hecate. Your great-great-grandfather bore the shame of marrying a potato farmer's daughter, all because she was the last-!"
"-direct descendant of Lilith herself, along with half a dozen other so very important bloodlines filled with all sorts of very impressive names." Duncan swung his legs off the couch, rising to a seated position with the affable, almost dopey grin he knew annoyed her so much. "And instead of your peerless witch, you had a son who can just about manage lighting a candle. Have I apologized again for how inconvenient my penis is to you?"
Her face twisted in disgust. "Must you be so utterly crude?!"
"Well I must be something, it's certainly not a witch," he laughed. "But my daughters? With all that wonderfully witchy blood in my veins? I'd be doing the world a *disservice* by not spreading my seed as far as some of these girls will be spreading their-"
Suddenly his jaw snapped shut, so hard he heard something *pop* inside. His arms snapped to his sides, legs tightly together as if bound. With a terrifying rush of speed he was flung through the air, coming to a halt just before the twisted, furious face of his mother. "You. Will. Not," she hissed, every word a proclamation of deadly intent. "You will go to school. You will behave. You will return, marry your fiancé, and sire upon her *and only her* the finest witch of her generation. And if I hear that a *drop* of your seed fell on fertile soil, if you so much as *spoke* to another girl, you will never know freedom again. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
He could speak again, and his lips twisted into a challenging grin even as his joints ached. "Perfectly, mother. I'll be certain you never hear about it."
\----------------------------------------
The Rellarien family has spent generations carefully cultivating bloodlines to create the finest witch who ever lived, only for the child to be born a son who can access only a fraction of the power boiling inside him. He'll just need to have a daughter, with a carefully selected bride of course, and never be allowed to ruin the century-spanning plan.
But when social obligations and norms force his mother to send him to what's effectively magic college, everything may come undone. The secret is out; this man's daughters will have magic unseen for countless generations. And every noble family will want to make sure those daughters are born into their house. After all, if "something" were to happen and a noble girl ended up pregnant, he'd have no choice but to marry her.
So with all these girls trying to get with him, a fiancé trying to stop him from getting with anyone, and all vying for the top prize of his seed growing inside their womb, what does our protagonist do?
Enjoy it as much as he possibly can, of course. On the one hand sleeping with as many girls as possible will really annoy his mother, which is an absolute win. On the other, knocking any of them up might actually enrage her to the point she becomes willing to dismantle him for parts and start over again. Thus begins his game of seeing how much fun he can have and tail he can get without actually getting anyone pregnant, avoiding the endless schemes of those willing to resort to extreme measures, and make sure his fiancé doesn't immediately report everything to his mother. He may not have the world-dominating magic, but his weak power can still be used with unparalleled precision and skill; you don't need a ton of force to knock down a building if you know just where to hit it.
The tone is intended to be light hearted and whimsical, full of over the top scenarios and ridiculous schemes that *probably* count as sexual assault but it's a woman doing it to a man so it's ok for some reason.
Kinks include blend of modern and fantasy elements, different fantasy races, use of magic for sexiness, male pleasure focus, leash and collar, threesomes, anal and oral focus, denial and teasing, cumplay, lezcest, mind control and hypnosis, free use, sneaky/hidden sex
Major limits are underage, sexualized gore, bathroom stuff.
Some were more circumspect. Become his friend. Become a trusted ally. Forge a relationship with him that will prove stronger than any others. Some were more direct. Seduce him. Make him desire you. Make him wish to possess you. Ensnare him with your wiles. Be the trophy he seeks to win. A few cut straight to the heart of the matter. Fuck him. Become his whore. Bind him to a bed if you have to. Do whatever it takes to be pregnant with his child by year's end.
Reactions were mixed.
In one particular home, the young lady of the house needed no such instruction. She knew his face, for she'd seen it regularly since they were children. She needed no motive or explanation, for their betrothal was a fait accompli and only time delayed their marriage and consummation. She received only a warning. Do not let any of those common harlots steal what is *yours.*
And in one house that had a son instead of a daughter, Lady Anni Rellarien es Ivorek pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply. "Despite my best efforts," she declared to the room's other occupant, "I have failed. The tutors have proved inadequate or retired themselves, the Institute refuses to accept you, and you have most thoroughly burned every bridge, favor and piece of social capital I might have used to avoid this most dreadful of outcomes. Though it pains me to say it, yout final year of education will be spent at Callista Arcanum."
"Such a tragedy, Mother," Duncan Rellarien said from his spot upon the couch, lounged back as if to mimic the snoozing feline atop the mantel. "Did you try sniffing quite pointedly at the Headmistress with your eyebrow raised? I've seen it work wonders. Or perhaps a withering glare. Yes, just like that."
Lady Rellarien shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Do *not* vex me any further, child, not tonight."
"A child of twenty, practically still in nappies."
"Bad enough you have wasted years of courtly training-"
"I learned those lessons quite well, I simply choose not to apply them."
"-made your father an utter laughingstock-"
"Father does an excellent job of that on his own."
"-and proven yourself an utterly irredeemable rake," she snapped, the tone carrying a not at all veiled threat should he interrupt any further. "But now I am given no choice but to release you from my careful surveillance and trust you will somehow avoid bringing absolute disgrace to this family. With absolutely no faith that you will follow through with the decisions that have been made for your best interest."
"I wonder why that might be," Duncan muttered under his breath, too quietly for Mother to hear. It didn't stop her from sending yet another devastating glance, the sort he'd seen reduce a maid to a quivering pile of tears in seconds.
"Perhaps I have somehow failed to impress upon you the importance-"
"Oh Gods, this again."
"-the *importance* of your lineage!" the lady declared, an only mildly quieter alternative to shouting. "Generations of careful selection and marriages, countless years spent tracking the descendants of the greatest who ever lived. Morgan Le Fay, Circe, Hecate. Your great-great-grandfather bore the shame of marrying a potato farmer's daughter, all because she was the last-!"
"-direct descendant of Lilith herself, along with half a dozen other so very important bloodlines filled with all sorts of very impressive names." Duncan swung his legs off the couch, rising to a seated position with the affable, almost dopey grin he knew annoyed her so much. "And instead of your peerless witch, you had a son who can just about manage lighting a candle. Have I apologized again for how inconvenient my penis is to you?"
Her face twisted in disgust. "Must you be so utterly crude?!"
"Well I must be something, it's certainly not a witch," he laughed. "But my daughters? With all that wonderfully witchy blood in my veins? I'd be doing the world a *disservice* by not spreading my seed as far as some of these girls will be spreading their-"
Suddenly his jaw snapped shut, so hard he heard something *pop* inside. His arms snapped to his sides, legs tightly together as if bound. With a terrifying rush of speed he was flung through the air, coming to a halt just before the twisted, furious face of his mother. "You. Will. Not," she hissed, every word a proclamation of deadly intent. "You will go to school. You will behave. You will return, marry your fiancé, and sire upon her *and only her* the finest witch of her generation. And if I hear that a *drop* of your seed fell on fertile soil, if you so much as *spoke* to another girl, you will never know freedom again. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
He could speak again, and his lips twisted into a challenging grin even as his joints ached. "Perfectly, mother. I'll be certain you never hear about it."
\----------------------------------------
The Rellarien family has spent generations carefully cultivating bloodlines to create the finest witch who ever lived, only for the child to be born a son who can access only a fraction of the power boiling inside him. He'll just need to have a daughter, with a carefully selected bride of course, and never be allowed to ruin the century-spanning plan.
But when social obligations and norms force his mother to send him to what's effectively magic college, everything may come undone. The secret is out; this man's daughters will have magic unseen for countless generations. And every noble family will want to make sure those daughters are born into their house. After all, if "something" were to happen and a noble girl ended up pregnant, he'd have no choice but to marry her.
So with all these girls trying to get with him, a fiancé trying to stop him from getting with anyone, and all vying for the top prize of his seed growing inside their womb, what does our protagonist do?
Enjoy it as much as he possibly can, of course. On the one hand sleeping with as many girls as possible will really annoy his mother, which is an absolute win. On the other, knocking any of them up might actually enrage her to the point she becomes willing to dismantle him for parts and start over again. Thus begins his game of seeing how much fun he can have and tail he can get without actually getting anyone pregnant, avoiding the endless schemes of those willing to resort to extreme measures, and make sure his fiancé doesn't immediately report everything to his mother. He may not have the world-dominating magic, but his weak power can still be used with unparalleled precision and skill; you don't need a ton of force to knock down a building if you know just where to hit it.
The tone is intended to be light hearted and whimsical, full of over the top scenarios and ridiculous schemes that *probably* count as sexual assault but it's a woman doing it to a man so it's ok for some reason.
Kinks include blend of modern and fantasy elements, different fantasy races, use of magic for sexiness, male pleasure focus, leash and collar, threesomes, anal and oral focus, denial and teasing, cumplay, lezcest, mind control and hypnosis, free use, sneaky/hidden sex
Major limits are underage, sexualized gore, bathroom stuff.