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Subject: {ASSM} [SF]Children of Dune : Atreides Lion (3/?) (b/F, F/F, M/F, oral, lactation)
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Date: Thu, 22 Apr 2004 07:10:04 -0400
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Disclaimer:  This story is intended for adults, and contains graphic
descriptions of sex and incest.  If it bothers you, then go away.  All
characters and the Dune universe belongs to Frank Herbert.  The story
belongs to me.

The story is set partly in the TV show "Children of Dune," and Frank
Herbert's original novel. So Leto and Ghanima would be closer to the
characters in the show, while the rest are more closer to the novel.
I've borrowed some passages from Frank Herbert's "Children of Dune."


The Story So Far :

The Empire is disintegrating, as various factions vie for power.  The
Regent Alia, the native Fremen of Dune, the Sisterhood of the Bene
Gesserit, the Spacing Guild, and the displaced Corrino Family all
struggle to control Dune - and gain a monopoly in spice.  The
premature Leto decides to consolidate his family and start a new
breeding program - his own.  He brings his grandmother Jessica - a
Bene Gesserit Adept and the mother of Paul, sent to Dune by the
Sisterhood to oppose her daughter Alia, the Regent - under submission.
 Then she meets Princess Irulan, a Corrino Princess who her father,
the former Emperor Shaddam IV, married off to Paul Atreides when he
lost the throne.  Irulan was made wife, but never received Paul's
favors, and remained unbedded - till his son Leto took her for his
own.


	Atreides Lion

        Chapter 3 : The Ministrations of the Fremen Nurse Harah(b/F,
F/F, M/F, oral, lactation)


   As was the Fremen custom, Leto arose an hour before dawn.  Beside
him the Lady Jessica and Princess Irulan entwined, asleep in utter
exhaustion, having been harassed again and again through the night
under Leto's insatiable lusts.

   He could hear attendants in the antechamber preparing breakfast, a
simple gruel with dates and nuts blended in liquid skimmed from
partially fermented spice. There were glowglobes in the antechamber
and a soft yellow light entered through the open archways of the
bedchambers.

   Belting on a desert robe, Leto stepped into the anteroom. 
Overseeing the attendants was his father's wife-by-custom and his
nurse, Harah, who had become one of Stilgar's wives.  He could feel
himself being aroused to hardness, despite the exertions of the night,
at the sight of her tall, sensual slimness.  Age had filled out her
curves to even riper fullness, and her olive skin gleamed in the light
of the glowglobes.

   Seeing the telltale signs of Leto's arousal against his robe, Harah
straightened herself and dismissed the other attendants.  A sly smile
played at the corner of her lips on her slightly weathered - yet still
beautiful - face as she gazed at the boy she had formerly nursed as a
babe.

   Gliding over to where Leto stood still and erect, Harah playfully
untied the sash of her robe, allowing him a glimpse of the smooth
olive skin beneath.  She came right up to him, towering a head over
him as she pressed her full breasts against his face.  Meanwhile, she
reached down and stroked his hard length with a slim hand.

   "I see you have decided to honor your old nurse," she breathed
throatily.  Leto hummed in appreciation as she ran her hand along his
length.  He reached inside the fold of her robes and cupped her taut
hips in his hands, before pulling her close against his rampant
member.

   Harah moaned throatily as Leto nuzzled her robe aside and began
suckling on an engorged nipple, alternately sucking her heavy breast
into his mouth.  Harah stroked the back of his head with one hand,
moaning encouragement, while she stroked his member with the other.

   Leto pressed against her harder, pressing his erection against her
bare thigh, and Harah rubbed her legs together, panting in want, as
the pleasures being sent from her breasts and her hips began to reach
her brain.  Leto gently pulled her down to the floor with him, till
she straddled him, her robe parted open to reveal the road of bare
skin from her furry loins to the twin breasts.

   Her hands quickly undid the sash of his robe, and guiding his
manhood with one hand and balancing herself on the other, she rose
above him, and impaled herself on the thick length with a downward
lunge.

   "Ohhh-!  My child-!  Ohhhh-!"

   Her glorious raven mane waving with each lunge, Harah began riding
him, her head thrown back and eyes closed.  She cupped and mauled her
own breasts with her hands, tweaking the engorged nipples and
squeezing the soft flesh.  Leto's heavy member began appearing and
disappearing in and out of her slick, tight depths, the pink folds
stretching around his thickness.

   Leto grabbed hold of her slim waist, and thrust upwards to meet her
downward lunges.  He enjoyed Harah immensely - wild and strong,
unafraid of powerful sex, yet wily without the veneer of civilized
shyness that he had to coax his grandmother and stepmother out of.  In
short, she was a Fremen brood mare equaled only by - though completely
different - his sister Ghanima, or the memories of his mother Chani
stored in his brain.

   "Ohhh-!  Ohhh-!  Ohhhhh-!"

   Harah started rotating her waist with each downward ride, squeezing
and twisting him in intensely pleasurable ways.  He knew she was close
to orgasm, from the swelling of her breasts and the flaring of her
nostrils.  She parted her legs wider open, to allow him deeper access
into her searing depths, and balanced herself with hands on his flat
belly.

   Leto began thrusting upwards with a rolling of his hips, pulling
her down to slam her on his hard member.  Harah began tossing her head
from side to side, and when her eyes opened he saw that they were
glazed over with lust.  She began slamming up and down in a final,
frantic flurry of movement, riding Leto to her impending orgasm
punctuated by sharp staccato screams of pleasure.

   "Oh-! Oh-! Oh-! Ahhhhnnnn-!"

   Leto pulled Harah down on top of him even as he thrust upwards,
jamming himself on her.  Harah gave a final, incognant cry before
bucking and shuddering with orgasm.  Leto fired his load into her
depth, feeling the satisfactory slap of semen against her inner walls,
as Harah groaned and shook with each shot.

   "Oh...Leto-!" she sighed as she sank forward against him,
completely spent.  Leto ran his hands down her slim back, slick with
the sweat from her exertions.

   Leto smiled and shook his head.  "Harah, my love, if you were but
younger and not already Stilgar's, I'd make you my own."

   Harah laughed, a clear silvery laughter, and drew him closer
against her body.  Leto buried his face between her twin curves,
licking and tasting the saline wetness on her skin.  At his insistent
sucking, Harah raised her body away from his ministrations with a sly
grin.

   "It seems that I will have to nurse you today, after all."   She
pulled off his half-hard length, and crawled upwards on her hands and
knees, until her dripping womanhood was right above Leto's face,
trapping him between her smooth muscular thighs.

   Leto reached out with a tongue and tasted the tartness of his and
her mingled juices, and delved in deeper, lapping up the white cream
from his nurse's loins.  Harah moaned as the last tingling of her most
recent climax coarsed through her body, brought forth by the delicate
flickerings of her young charge's tongue against her inner walls and
clitoris.

   Suddenly, Leto could feel her thighs tensing, and Harah's flustered
voice called out above him.  "Reverend Mother Jessica!"

   He wrenched his head around to see his grandmother, dressed in her
robe, looking at them with a strange look in her eyes.   "Rev,
Reverend Mother, I...." Harah tried to explain.

   "I can see that you are taking care of my grandson's needs quite
well," was Jessica's dry answer.  But Leto read the humor and arousal
underneath, and pulled Harah back down when the woman tried to stand
up.

   "Peace, my love.  Grandmother means you no ill will."

	~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

   Jessica sat at the table and watched her grandson - and new lord -
with his Fremen nurse, bringing her to another orgasm with his lips
and tongue.  Harah's slim form soon began rising up and down, as she
rode Leto.

   A figure appeared at the doorway to the bedroom, and Jessica turned
her eyes away from the mating couple on the floor to the sight of her
daughter-in-law, Irulan.  Irulan's rough tumble of golden hair was
beguiling, as was the sharp hourglass figure she cut in her tight
binding corset.  With the clearer light of day, Jessica could
appreciate the sheer mass of flesh that formed her impossibly sized,
yet taut mammaries.

   Irulan came and sat down beside Jessica, looking her stepson and
his nurse with a benevolent expression on her face.  So used to her
harsh, haughty demeanor, Jessica's curiosity was aroused.

   "Irulan?"

   "Yes, Jessica?"

   "Since when did you...." she made a gesture to Leto.  Irulan
smiled, a calmness not before found in her.

   "Leto has been bedding me for the past year.  These," she stroked
her massive mammaries with a shy smile of pride, "were his gifts to
me, a few months ago.  They were modified according to his
specifications."

   At Jessica's look of curiosity and arousal, Irulan reached for an
empty glass.  Then before Jessica's amazed eyes, the Imperial Consort,
her daughter-in-law, proceed to milk herself into the glass.  Watching
the drops of white milk gather on the tips of the engorged nipples,
then the thin stream of the creamy stuff shooting into the glass
wracked Jessica with a minor orgasm, and she realized that she was
lubricating furiously.

   Irulan filled half the glass, then milked her other mammary, until
the glass was full.  She sank back on the bench, face aflush and
breathing heavily.

   "This...is...so...arousing...." she panted, and Jessica realized
that Irulan's fingers were buried in her own loins.  It only took a
few strokes of the slim fingers against the engorged clitoris for
Irulan to throw her head back and moan out in orgasmic release.

   "Ohh-!  Letoo-!"

   Unable to control herself, Jessica launched herself across the
bench at Irulan's moaning form.  The two Bene Gesserits straddled the
bench, rubbing their wet loins against the hard wooden surface, even
as Irulan moaned and cried out softly as Jessica devoured her bursting
mammaries, suckling at one nipple, then the other, drawing out the
creamy milk.  Irulan writhed under her domineering hands and lips,
submitting completely to the mother of her late husband.

   Jessica was so so engaged with the glorious mass of flesh and the
responsiveness of the woman beneath her, that she was startled when
Irulan's legs were pulled away from her, and Irulan jerked sharply
with a whoosh of breath.

   She looked up to see her grandson standing behind Irulan, burying
himself to the hilt in her tight depths.  Harah lay at his feet,
sprawled in contented exhaustion.  Irulan's face was suffuced with
orgasmic delight, and Jessica set to work on Irulan's smooth, ripe
flesh, to the rhythmic pounding of her grandson.

	~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

           Interlude : House Corrino

   It was a small room tinged with the odor of ozone and reduced to a
shadowy greyness by dimmed glowglobes and the metallic blue light of a
single transeye-monitoring screen. The screen was about a meter wide
and only two-thirds of a meter in height. It revealed in remote detail
a barren, rocky valley with two Laza tigers mating above the bloody
remnants of a recent kill. The tigress lowered herself, but purred and
roared as the tiger mounted her from behind.  On the hillside above
the tigers could be seen a slender man in Sardaukar working uniform,
wearing a control keyboard against his chest.

   One chair stood opposing the screen, supporting a fair-haired woman
of indeterminate age.  She had a heart-shaped face that was stopped
short of exquisite beauty by a slightly square jawline.  Normally
sharp grey eyes were slightly hazy with emotion, and slender hands
gripped the chair arms as she watched the screen over the back of the
chair. The fullness of her voluptuous figure could be seen through the
gauzy white robe trimmed in gold, falling open at the front.

   Behind her stood a blocky man dressed in the bronze and gold
uniform of a Bashar Aide in the old Imperial Sardaukar. His greying
hair had been closely cropped over his square features, now furrowed
with concentration as he thrust into the warm depths of the woman
before him.

   The woman panted, breathing heavily : "It went...as you
predicted...Tyekanik."

   "Assuredly, Princess," the Bashar Aide said, his voice hoarse.

   Through the haze of pleasure she smiled at the tension in his
voice, asked : "Tell me...Tyekanik.... How will...my son...like the
sound...of Emperor...Farad'n I?"

   "The title suits him, Princess,"  the Sardaukar Bashar breathed,
his heavy hands clamped tightly around the woman's slim waist.

   "That...was not...my question."

   "He might not approve some of the things done to gain him that,
ahh, title."

   "Then...again...."  She turned her head around, looking back at
him.  Her heavy breasts, sagging slightly with age but still full and
ripe, shook and bounced against each other with each slap of muscled
thighs on round hips.  He smiled, displaying thick teeth which
glistened in the light from the screen, and she jerked her gaze away
from him to conceal anger at her seeming lack of control, and asked :
"Do you...really think those...Lazas...will put my...son on...the
throne?"

   "It's distinctly possible, Princess," Tyekanik answered, not
missing a beat as he thrust forward.  "You must admit that the bastard
get of Paul Atreides would be no more than juicy morsels for those
two. And with those twins gone...."  He shrugged.  The Princess moaned
in pleasure, and rolled her hips deliciously, her inner walls
tightening.   He swallowed, fighting down the rising flood of
pleasure.

   "Attention...to detail," she said smugly, as she reached forward
and depressed a red key beneath the lighted screen.

  In the screen, the Laza tigers had finished mating and now lay on
the sand completing their toilet, long tongues moving across their
forepaws and each other.  Immediately the Laza tigers raised their
heads. They got to their feet and looked up the hill at the Sardaukar.
 Moving as one, they turned and began a scrambling run up the
hillside.

    Appearing calm at first, the Sardaukar depressed a key on his
console. His movements were assured but, as the cats continued their
dash toward him, he became more frenzied, pressing the key harder and
harder. A look of startled awareness came over his features and his
hand jerked toward the working knife at his waist. The movement came
too late. A raking claw hit his chest and sent him sprawling. As he
fell, the other tiger took his neck in one great-fanged bite and shook
him. His spine snapped.

    "Attention to detail," the Princess repeated.  She turned,
stiffening as Tyekanik withdrew from her.  He held himself away from
her, supporting his frame by the hands on her waist.  But it was too
much for him, and with a groan he buried himself back inside with
increased vigour.  The Princess moaned and smiled in victorious
pleasure as Tyekanik's thrusts became wilder and wilder, her womanhood
tightening the vise-like grip on him.

   "That was a good man out there, Princess!  One of my best!"

   "One...of MY...best," she corrected him.  He drew a deep, trembling
breath, then threw his head back and roared.  There was a hard slap of
flesh on flesh as he buried himself deep inside her womb, coating it
with layer after layer of thick semen.

   She continued moving against him, sucking every last drop out of
his still hard member, rolling her hips and greedily drawing in the
pleasure.  Soon her cries were echoing inside the room, as she too
orgasmed, tightening with an iron grip on him.  Tyekanik swallowed,
stared at the screen. The tigers once more were mating.

   She slumped against the chair, spent, and Tyekanik slowly withdrew
from her.  A thick rope of semen trailed from the end of his
half-flaccid hardness to the pink opening in her loins, and he cleaned
himself before buttoning up his trousers.

   "You will tell our buyers not to bring us any more matched pairs of
children who fit the necessary description."

   "As you command, Princess." 

   "Don't use that tone with me, Tyekanik." 

   "Yes, Princess."

   Her lips drew into a straight line.  She pushed herself out of the
chair, and tightly tied the sash around her robe.  It did little to
hide the curvy figure beneath it, nor hide the erect nipples peaking
through the thin fabric.  "How many more of those paired costumes do
we have?"

   "Six sets of the robes, complete with stillsuits and the sand
shoes, all with the Atreides insignia worked into them."

   "The garments will be dispatched to Arrakis as gifts for our royal
cousins. They will be gifts from my son, do you understand me,
Tyekanik?"

   "Completely, Princess."

   "I trust you, my friend." 

   He stared at her silently.

   Her face hardened.  "Surely you must know that?  Who else can I
trust since the death of my husband?"

   He shrugged, thinking how closely she emulated the spider. It would
not do to get on too intimate a term with her, as he now suspected his
Sardaukar had done.


End Chapter 3

Soon to be followed - Chapter 4 : Ghanima's Summoning

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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