I had a request to write Akarna and Ah`enraâs background and how we came to be apart for so long. This is how we began. I wrote it in third person to include events and feelings that arenât solely mine. Akarna & I were born apart; I lived with Papa and he with Mother. Though he knew of my existence, I only dreamed of his. I will ask my older brother to tell the story of our parting in another tale. As before, this is an incest story with BDSM flavours, please stop here if this offends you.
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Conceived before time began and born before history was anything more than a closed, distant past and when the earth herself still had no form, Akarna was an enigma among men. Right now he paced before his mother and Mistress, frustrated. Something had been amiss for awhile now, his dreams haunted him when awake yet he couldnât speak of why. Not even to her, from whom he had no secrets.
She simply smiled and watched her son. His hands balled into fists and striding back and forth, she was amused at the sight. She knew heâd dreamed forever of the girl, knew he had longed, had wanted, had lusted after the girl he saw every night in his visions. One with flowing raven hair and glittering dark eyes. One with a body made for his with passions and hunger to match. She had only waited for him to come to her, to admit to his Mother, Mistress and Lover what he couldnât even admit to himself.
Akarna paused and looked to her, his own eyes jet black and gleaming, âYouâve known?â
She nodded and smiled to her son. âIâve known.â
Akarna turned on his heel and angrily demanded, âThen where is she?!â Though submissive to his mother, she always allowed him to express himself, and this he took full advantage of, especially when he was irate.
She only chuckled at his impatience. âAh so after this long denying her existence, now you cannot wait to even see her? Why donât you just close your eyes and there she will be again?â There was amusement in her voice.
Akarna was not amused, and his motherâs being so only fueled his impatience. He forced himself to calm and then looked straight at her. Laughter danced in her eyes and he knew he would get no further, that to push would only delay what he so desired. Wanted, needed, he had never felt this for anyone but Mistress herself. And it wasnât quite the same, the strength and the intensity were there but the hunger was different somehow.
Turning his back to her, Akarna breathed deeply and allowed his mind to wander to his dreams, briefly closing his eyes as Mistress suggested. He could see the girl, the lush curves he knew would fit so well into the planes of his strong body, the skin more delicate than the silk sheets on his bed, skin the color of pale moonlight that shimmered with flecks of golden light, long legs meant to wrap around him, draw him in. His cock woke with the images, pushing at the leather he wore. A thin sheen of sweat beaded on his brow and chest. Who was she, that she had such an effect? And what more would she have once she was actually here?
He startled slightly when he felt Mistressâ hands rest on his shoulders, his hips. Her lips grazed his bare skin even as her hands massaged the sinews of his thighs and ass. His body reacted to her and he moaned, knowing it wasnât her touch that could quell the ache this time. It was an odd sensation, knowing this hunger existed for someone other than she. But she didnât seemed bothered by it, rather, she seemed to welcome it. He heard her voice echo in his mind that this part of him wasnât hers, this part was a wild thing, a primal beast who could ever only be sated by the little one of his visions. He growled as the girlâs image danced before him again.
Then Mistress was gone, his skin felt the chill where her hands had left him and the slight breeze of her departure danced over him. He sighed, hating when she did that and opened his eyes as he turned. And nearly tripped on her.
Kneeling at his feet was the girl from his visions, the one who set fire to his heart. She knelt, thighs spread wide, ebony silk falling to hide the treasures between. Her skin glistened, her hair shone, her back was arched a little, pressing full breasts to strain against the thin fabric halter. Metal shimmered around her neck and without looking, he knew the collar bore his name.
Then he heard one final whisper in his mind, his Motherâs voice fading, âShe is your sister, and she is yours.â
His head spun and his breath caught in his massive chest. The girl looked so delicate, so fragile, a slight look of confusion on her features. Her scent drifted through the air to tease him and he growled again, feeling the beast arouse at the silent beckoning. He wanted to call to her but she had no name. She had only the brief garments and the straps of leather that wrapped the tops of her arms, and he knew, her ankles. And she was his.
The girl kneeled silently, confused and shivering. Wetting sweet lips with the tip of a pink tongue, she savored the sensations of having a form. Was he dreaming again that when he awoke it would be gone, like before? She didnât think so. Before, in his dreams, she lived and danced but could never feel the air, could not be cold, could not reach out and have the solid floor beneath her. Now she could. What then, was this? She flexed her shoulders, the silk imprisoning her breasts another novelty. Always in his dreams she was naked, nothing between his skin and hers, and now there was thisâŠ.stuff. It wasnât entirely unpleasant, just different. She smiled.
Akarna growled, damning himself for not ever asking her name in his dreams. She was always his love, his lover, the dancing demon who came to him when he called. He wondered if sheâd ever even had a name.
So he would name her. He pondered several, still pacing around her, his cock standing proudly from his body, all twelve inches pushing against the leather. His hands brushed a lock of hair from her face and she lifted liquid sable eyes to look at him. It was then that he knew her name. âAh`enra.â