Chapter 1

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/ft, Teenagers, Consensual, Romantic, Slavery, Fiction, Incest, Cousins, Aunt, First, Pregnancy, Slow, .

Desc: Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A young warrior fresh out of the academy is heading for his first assignment, with him travels what remains of his family. While at sea their tiny ship is taken by privateers looking for loot and slaves. The only thing of any importance to him is his family, one aunt and a cousin, nothing matters except saving them. But how can he do that?



The cool green water splashed up around the bow and down the sides of the merchant ship Pinya as it slowly made headway through the presently quiescent sea. The mid-afternoon sun beat down on the tiny ship as the barely perceptible breeze rippled the languishing sails.

Dent scanned the horizon with his piercing blue eyes, more out of boredom than with any expectation of seeing anything. Boredom was a constant problem on this voyage. At just over twenty seasons he was naturally a veritable fountain of energy barely kept in check by the strenuous schedule imposed by the warrior academy he had attended for the past six years. Having graduated from the school he was technically a full Warrior but was as of yet unblooded.

That will soon be taken care of, he thought to himself. The reason for undertaking this voyage was to enlist in the Putram Malshall's army. Malshall was forever quarreling with his neighbors and needed a constant stream of new Warriors to fill the ranks of his well-used cohorts. A hell of a way to make a living he mused, but infinitely better than being a common field hand. If his father, gods damn his soul, hadn't got his dumb ass killed these six seasons ago fighting over some silly tavern wench then maybe he would still be the Overseer's son destined to become an Overseer someday on one of Putram Salas' many farms.

He was lucky that his father's position earned his family a small stipend and a choice: warrior training or work in the fields. The choice was easy. As a warrior he could get killed or maimed; as a common field hand he would be subjected to brutally hard labor day after day from sadistic Overseers. He included his asshole father in that group, whose only joy in life was seeing how much pain they can inflict on those below them. A potentially quick death or a long, slow painful one. No choice. He signed the training roster the day it was offered.

Warrior training had its advantages. While a student he was granted a small stipend, not much but enough to keep his aunt and cousin alive and living comfortably if not extravagantly. Especially since his mother's sister Nesho could supplement their income by casting figures for the local merchants, helping the sick and elderly with her herb medicines and Sosho, his cousin, was a pretty fair seamstress. More than fair, he thought to himself, she's much more than "fair", damn good in fact. They didn't live like the country gentry they had been, but fairly well all things considered.

But this voyage was boring. He worked out on deck with his weighted sword and ran through his exercise routines, even sparred with the few men-at-arms the merchant carried but they were no real challenge. There was no room to run and little room to do anything else for that matter, so most of his time was spent staring at the sea and sometimes playing games with his family.

"Sail ahoy!" he heard the cry from the lookout posted up in the ship's rigging. "Two points abaft the beam, port!"

Moving to the port side of the ship he scanned the horizon to the side and slightly behind. At first he didn't see anything but suddenly he could just barely make out the small gray patch that could only be the sail of another ship hull down on the horizon. Standing there watching he could detect no motion; the small patch of gray seemed fixed at the edge of his vision.

Grunting, he tore his eyes away and slowly made his way aft and up to the rear platform that the sailors called the piloting bridge. Climbing up the he found the ship's captain standing behind a sailor manning the giant wheel used to control the ship's rudder. Sauntering over until he stood next to the two men he turned and let his eyes follow the captain's gaze to the little gray intruder.

"Company, Captain?" he asked mildly.

"Kena say, warrior," he grunted without taking his eyes off the distant piece of cloth. "Probably jest another ship happen to be going as we're. Aye, probably jest that." Turning to look up at the young man he continued, "But yea ken never know in these waters. Better to be sure than later sorry. They donna look like they be closing but maybe a little boarding practice canna hurt."

Leaning over the side of the platform he shouted down to one of the mates standing on the main deck. "Bo'sun, get the off duty crew up on deck. I wanna practice a little repel boarders for a wee bit."

Looking up at the captain and then glancing over to the sail on the horizon the mate nodded his head saying "Aye, Captain." Turning back to the main deck he bellowed, "On watch! Ring the bell to quarters! All off duty crew to attend!" Almost immediately a bell started ringing in a complex pattern. The slap of bare feet and muttered curses could be heard as the off-duty ships' crew poured out of hatches and began to form up on the main deck in more or less recognizable formations.

Turning again to look up at the young warrior the gnarled older man almost casually stated, "If we be needing it, I'm hoping you'll be helping me crew. Not that I'm thinking we be needing it, mind you, but if these be pirates we'll be fighting fer our lives. Mistake me not."

"Pirates bad around here, are they?" Dent asked.

"I dinna know if there be any 'good' pirates anywhere but around here they be especially bad. I no worry much about the true pirates. Cowardly dogs they be; show them steel and they run quick enough.

No, it's not the pirates that fret me, it's them others. Not really pirates ya see but privateers commissioned by that blackhearted devil, Jeevel. Doesn't 'ave much of a navy, see, so he loosens these dogs on peaceful traders just trying to do business. Point is they go for the loot as ye might expect, but lately they been taking the females and putting the men to the sword. Uses the women folk for their own enjoyment we hear and then sell them as slaves in that cesspool, Harv'el." Turning back to the main deck he watched as his crew lined up while short-bladed slashing swords and boarding spears were handed out.

Dent followed the captain's eyes to the deck when he noticed a familiar form exiting the forward hatch. Serenely the figure observed the crew raggedly going through their drills until those eyes caught sight of Dent up on the piloting platform. Waving, the figure started to work its way aft towards the platform casually moving through the sea of moving men like a ship over choppy waters.

"Methinks your lady wants a word with you," stated the Captain pointing to the stately woman moving aft. "Either her or her sister, I canna tell the difference between them most times."

"I believe you're correct, Captain," Dent mused as he started down the ladder. The two met just as Dent touched the main deck.

"Aunt Nesho," he said smiling, "what brings you out on deck? As you can see it's rather busy just now."

As always his eyes drank in the sight of the woman whose life and happiness had come to mean more to him than life itself. It had been ten years earlier that his mother had died, from a broken heart some said, and her younger sister Nesho, recently widowed, and her daughter Sosho had come to live with Dent and his father. Over those years, especially after his father died, Nesho had come to be the mother he could barely remember now. At times of inner honesty he had to admit his admiration and affection wasn't just from the bond of mother and son for the woman before him deserved that admiration all in her own right.

At twenty-nine seasons the Lady Nesho den Siso would have been called a beautiful woman by all but the most picky. Long dark brown hair falling well over the shoulders framing dark brown eyes and classically chiseled features and, although her skirt and day jacket were modest bordering on severe, the shape beneath was definitely well rounded and alluring. Her bosom was large but not exceptionally so; living in tight quarters he had enough opportunity to see that much for himself, her waist slender, flaring out into what he had heard described as "birthing hips." There were no children other than his younger cousin, but Dent wondered if that was due to the fever his uncle contracted after Sosho was born.

He had heard of men whose wives or women were 'barren' after such a fever but who seemed to have no trouble conceiving if they remarried or changed partners later on. He knew it bothered Nesho there were no other children but she bore it stoically like she did all other adversity. For the thousandth time Dent wondered at the incredible stupidity of his father looking elsewhere for pleasure when he should have married this woman. It was not uncommon for a widower to take his late wife's sister to wife, especially if she was also a widow. He was fairly sure that Nesho wouldn't have freely consented to such a match, but then as a woman what choice would she really have? Most would consider her lucky that her sister's husband took her in at all. For the thousandth time he hoped he had inherited nothing from that idiot except his coloration and features. She was far too good a woman for that bastard anyway.

Standing together one would have had to look very hard to see any family resemblance. Where Nesho was dark, Dent was fair; where her features were delicate and fine, his were, well to be kind, rugged. Oh he was often told he was a fine figure of a man, six feet tall, 180 pounds and build like a rock with broad shoulders and narrow hips, but he would never be called pretty. Blue green eyes, light blond, almost white hair presently tied back in a warriors knot, and a face that looked like, and had, taken it share of beatings.

It wasn't a face only a mother could love; unknowingly he had been the subject of fantasies of a number of young girls, and some not so young. Although he had his own share of fantasies, some he was ashamed of, the pressure of time and work at the school gave him no time to pursue any of them.

Looking up at him she smiled, lighting up her face and making him feel like a giant hand was squeezing his heart. Truth be known more than a few of his forbidden fantasies had involved this woman and as ashamed as it made him feel they still came unbidden and with an alarming frequency.

"We heard the alarm and wondered what it was about," she said.

"Well we've spotted a sail over yonder," he replied pointing toward the horizon. "The captain doesn't think it is any problem but is of a mind to take no chances. I was just on my way to work with the crew on their drills myself."

"Ah, well then I won't impede you any further then, my warrior. I'll just go back below and try to calm their fears. You know how these fools of women can get sometimes."

"Well I don't know about that," he said laughing, "I can't say I've been around many that I would call fools. But you might tell them this is normal drill and not to be concerned."

"I take it as a compliment that you don't think me a fool," her smile becoming even brighter and with maybe a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

"Just in your luck with a husband," he growled, "and brothers-in-law, but I fault grandfather for that. not you."

"Whatever you may say about your father," she replied, placing her hand lightly on his cheek, "he did give us a place to live when no other would. Now don't work yourself too hard. You mustn't get hurt now of all times."

"I'll be careful. Now get down below before some clod runs you over by accident." Taking her by the shoulders he turned her toward the forward hatch and gave her a light swat on the bottom. Looking over her shoulder at him he would have sworn that she wiggled her fanny at him just a little just before striding off. Whether it was his imagination or not, the effect it had on him certainly wasn't. Aunt or not he was a young man of twenty and his cock knew a beautiful woman when it saw one. Shaking his head to clear it and taking a deep breath, he turned to the drilling men and set off to do his job.

Hours latter he stepped into the tiny cabin he shared with Nesho and Sosho. He had played the part of a one-man boarding party using himself as a foil for their drills and practice. The experience did nothing to ease his unrest. Although they outnumbered him twenty to one it was his opinion that he would have had a decent chance of taking the ship by himself if the fighting had been for real and not just practice with blunted sword and spear. The alleged men-at-arms acted like they had never seen someone use both a sword and dagger together before. He could have easily blocked their blows and gutted them before they tried to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. Gods! He thought. Hopefully if they are attacked it will be a single pirate -- a blind and crippled one at that -- otherwise they might as well just hand over the wheel and save time!

Placing his weapons and gear next to the door he hung his shirt up in a crossbeam and rubbed his bruised and battered body. He had rinsed with seawater getting most of the sweat and grime off, but the salt water stung the small nicks and cuts he collected during the mock battle.

He noticed his cousin sitting near the porthole working on what appeared to be a shirt. Her ability as a seamstress still helped them earn a little even underway. There seemed to be no end of torn clothing or resizing work to be done between the crew and passengers. Remembering what the captain said he looked at her in a new light. It was true she and her mother had the same coloration, same hair and, in general, the same body shape. Where Nesho could pass for much younger than her twenty-nine seasons Sosho could pass for a number of years older than her true sixteen. I am blessed with a household of truly beautiful women, he thought, and both forbidden to him entirely. Heavy sigh. He stretched trying to work the knots out of his abused muscles. The workout was nowhere near as strenuous as what he was used to and the battering much, much less, but bruises hurt no matter how you get them.

"I warned you not to wear yourself out, Dent." For the first time he noticed Nesho standing up from the corner bunk where she had been reading one of the volumes from the pitifully small ship's library.' "Now you sit down right here and let me look at you," she said, pointing to a short stool in the middle of the cabin.

"It's nothing really, just a few bumps and bruises. I used to get worse every day at school," he grumbled as he moved toward the stool.

"He'd say that if they cut off an arm," Sosho interjected without even looking up from her work. "If only the rest of him were as hard as his head, then he'd never need armor."

"Hush now," Nesho chided as Dent chuckled at his cousin's standard barb, "and you sit down and be quiet." He sat. It didn't do any good to try to avoid this scrutiny, even if he wanted to.

"Hmmm," she mused as she deftly poked and prodded his various wounds. "Doesn't look like anything serious but let me work out these muscles." Her hands were firm but gentle as she kneaded and massaged his sore shoulders and arms. The tenseness seemed to flow out of him as she worked her way down his back and up again to his neck. From behind him her arms went around to soothe his upper chest and pectoral muscles. She had removed her outer coat and he could feel her unbound breasts pressed against him from under her thin blouse. Thinking about those soft warm pillows of flesh caused a reaction that even a blind man would have noticed under his loose trousers.

Hoping against hope that she didn't notice his noble reaction, he felt the heat of a flush at his shoulder, up his neck and all over his face. Thank the gods, he thought, he was facing away from Sosho. It would be bad enough if Nesho saw him, much worse if she did.

Nesho did see it of course; how could she not! The bulge under his trousers was very visible and ran half way down to his knee! As a young girl not knowing any better, she believed her husband when he told her he was well endowed, but she could see Dent's must be half again a large as that! Nesho knew Dent had been reacting to her as a woman for the past couple of years. This was not unexpected. After all, she was his mother's sister but she was also a women and their tight living quarters for the past few years made privacy, if not impossible, then at least difficult. The only saving grace was that his school occupied him from dawn to dusk almost every day for those six years leaving him too tired to even think about much else.

No, his reaction didn't surprise her. In fact she was flattered to think that a fine young man like Dent would even give an old woman like her a fleeting thought. No, what surprised her was her own reaction. She had been aware of his body before this; how could she not! But not for a good while and certainly never in a state of excitement before! He was large enough that the outline under the tight cloth left very little to the imagination. She thought she could almost see the mushroom-shaped head and the long cylinder of the shaft. Any tighter and she would be able to see the veins popping up along its length! This sight plus the feel of his strong muscular body under her hands caused a warmth to spread in her groin that she hadn't experienced for many years. She could feel her nipples harden as they pressed into his back and the moisture begin to form inside her vagina to prepare her for the sex act that she would never be able to consummate.

She knew she should stop immediately. She was teasing him and torturing herself but the feel and smell of this wonderful male body was too much to release just yet. Pressing her cheek against his she could feel the rough beginnings of a beard. He was not particularly hairy in that respect, but then neither had been his father. It would be so nice, she thought to herself, if he weren't her nephew and he could lay her down on the bunk, crawl between her legs and stuff that wonderful piece of man meat into her until she screamed.

But that wasn't going to happen. So instead she kissed him on the cheek, tousled his hair and told him to go lie down. Sometimes life just isn't fair, she thought.

The evening air was a bit cooler than it had been earlier in the afternoon. Dent felt refreshed and invigorated as he stepped through the hatch to the main deck. Nesho and Sosho decided to remain in the cabin after the evening meal but Dent wanted to know the status of that mysterious vessel whose sail had been trailing them throughout the day. The deck was gently rolling as he made his way aft towards the piloting platform. The breeze had picked up since the afternoon and the ship progressed at a steady pace with the wind-filled sails billowing overhead. Looking in the direction where the mysterious sail had been visible earlier, he was unable to make out anything in the deepening dusk.

Climbing the ladder to the piloting platform Dent spotted the captain by the railing casually peering out into the gloom.

"Good evening, Captain," he said in greeting. "Any word on our mysterious companion?"

"Nay," the captain replied without turning. "They be still there the last we could see them but since losing sight, well... " He shrugged, sighed and turned toward the young warrior. "I canna tell where they be by morn, but it worries me. It's just a feeling, mind you, but I think that ship be more than a simple merchant, and if that be so then they probably will be making their run in on us tonight for an attack at first light."

"Can we outrun them?"

"If they be pirate or privateer, I think not." The captain's face remained outwardly calm but his eyes were crystal pools of rage.

"If they intend to close during the night they must assume we will hold our course. What if we maneuver, open them up?" Even though Dent had no experience with naval warfare the tactical portion of his mind was racing, adapting what he did know to this strange wet environment.

"A superior idea, my fine young warrior, but alas not possible. To open them up we must turn to starboard, that which I have done a wee bit, but off our beam here are the Karken reefs, and a more vicious set of ship-eaters you will never hope to see. I'll not set course there unless I know the ship is in mortal danger. We turn into them we close the distance for them. Turn back? I dinna know if we could lose them. This ship wallows like a pig in headwinds, we be too slow to get out of their sight in just one short night. Forward at best speed is the best we can do. Hope they be simple merchants or hope for one of the Putram's patrol ships to meet with us before the pirates." The captain sighed and his body seemed to shrink like a waterskin with the liquid running out. "Bad choice maybe, but the best we can make now."

"I'm sure you know best, Captain. Maybe it's just another merchant, or maybe they will lose us in the night. If not, know you that I'll stand ready to fight with the ship if it comes to that."

"Aye, well that be something anywise," he turned back to the rail resuming his scan of the waters. "At least that be something."

Opening the cabin door Dent could see the flickering light coming from the small lantern casting shadows on the wall. Silently sitting on their bunks, legs crossed, his cousin and aunt fixed their dark eyes on him as he entered. Dropping his gear in its accustomed place next to the door he stretched and finally broke the silence.

"We need to talk."

"Is it that bad?" Nesho asked coolly.

"We can't be sure," he said running his fingers through his fine blond hair. "If it's pirates we should know in the morning. The captain seems to think that will be the time of any attack. If they wait too long, they stand a chance of running into Malshall's patrols or losing us if we change course in the night. No, if there's to be trouble it will be tomorrow morning. I plan to be up and ready before the dawn watch. My part is easy; what we have to discuss is you two."

"What do you want us to do?" Again Nesho's voice exuded calm and control.

Collecting his thoughts Dent looked proudly at her wondering that such beauty could contain the strength of will needed to remain calm in what could be a very dangerous and deadly situation. His eyes flickered over to Sosho and although she remained still and quiet, he could see the terror in her white-rimmed eyes. His heart went out to her and he wanted nothing more than to run to her, cradle her in his arms and assure her that all would be well, that he would protect her. But that would be false and they deserved better than that.

"Do? Nothing during the battle. Bar the door and wait. If it's just pirates then we stand a good change of fending them off. If it's privateers, well..." he sighed and sat down on the stool facing them.

"Pirates? Privateers? What's the difference?" Sosho's voice was ragged but she also was trying to keep her terror under control.

"Well," Dent paused formulating the words that would help him explain. "True pirates are independent: sea bandits really. They're usually small in number and poorly equipped. They prey on those weaker than themselves. They attack for loot and will attack anybody. Privateers are another matter entirely. You see, when a Putram has no navy or a very small one, he can't use it to attack his stronger foe. Instead he 'allows' -- contracts really -- private naval vessels, mercenaries, to attack his rival's shipping. He guarantees a price for any prize brought in, a market for their loot and a safe haven for them to make port in. In this way he weakens his enemy without exposing his own resources to harm."

"The problem is," he continued, "privateers are usually well armed and well equipped. It's true this ship does carry men-at-arms but they're not true warriors and I doubt they would last very long against them."

"If these are privateers we stand a good chance of losing and if that happens you two will be taken as slaves. I know this is difficult, but if it happens you must submit. Accept it. If you don't resist they won't kill you. You may be a slave but at least you will be alive."

"And where will you be?" Sosho suddenly shouted. "Where will our big protector be then?"

Calmly he looked her straight in the eye, his blue against her black.

"My dear cousin," he said softly, "I will be dead."

Chapter 2 »

Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Ma/ft / Teenagers / Consensual / Romantic / Slavery / Fiction / Incest / Cousins / Aunt / First / Pregnancy / Slow /