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Succession

"Bloodlines are everything," High Arcanist Quintin spoke over the patterning rain that struck the window panes of the castle. "And magic is tied to the bloodlines of specific families."

The greying white tiger walked around his teaching hall in the castle holding up the heavy tome he himself had written and published -- The Art and History of the Magical Families. In it were bloodlines and names going back to well before the founding of the kingdom, the period of the Lost where magic was rampant as was destruction.

I had heard this story so many times. I had my head laying down in the folds of my arms and my muzzle turned to the side so I could watch the rain hit the glass, sighing. I hated these lessons.

"Master Erik," I heard Quintin say with a louder than normal voice. It caused me to snap my head up and sit high. I heard giggles from my classmates -- all noble children who were gifted with magic. "Enjoying your nap, Your Grace?" Quintin said with the faint smugness of someone who knew they could talk down to me. Of course, he didn't actually mean anything bad, but few could say they could be rude to me and not worry that something would happen to them.

"I wasn't napping, High Arcanist," I said with a yawn that got me more laughter from the other young students in front of the class. "I was just watching the rain."

"Ah," Quintin said and closed the book with a dramatic flourish, perching himself on the edge of his desk with a sly little grin on his aging face. "I apologize for boring his grace, but do try to stay focused on my lessons."

"I have heard these 'lessons' since I was a cub," I said with defiance. I hated when people did this to me, when they thought I wasn't paying attention because I wasn't staring at them intently.

"Oh really," the white tiger said again, and put his hands in front of him. "Then perhaps you can enlighten the class on why your bloodline is so specifically important, Your Grace."

They already knew, but I knew if I said that he'd just challenge me for more information under the guise of saying I didn't know what I was talking about. I growled a little bit but quickly bit it down. "Very well," I said and took a slow, deep breath through my nose.

"The Castor family of mages, dating back to the Lost period where we were once known as the Cas'tori, practiced a once unheard of element, that of the light," I said and looked around. I continued when Quintin didn't interrupt me. "Before my family became powerful no one had been able to fully practice with the light element. It was thought it was impossible but my ancestors found a way and were able to, with a lot of effort, change our defining power from simply understanding how the magic flowed in this world to actually wielding it: the light."

"So your ancestors were much of nothing before they found this new element of magic, is that right?"

"Yes," I said, not minding the question. "We were keepers of knowledge and understood first that bloodlines and families were how power was passed down. An heir is gifted their power over a span of years because their body needs to adapt to the new energy, or they could die. That is why, when the head of a family dies, it is incredibly dangerous as his heir will instantly get all of their magic and then die."

"What if they have multiple heirs? Or children, rather?" the professor quizzed me. I sighed as indiscernibly as possible.

"Every child will naturally get some of the power, as is the case with all magical families. The scholars believe the ambient energy in the home, coupled with the same blood, is absorbed. That is why everyone in the family can wield this magic to varying degrees, and hence why, sometimes, we get branches in big families who have multiple heirs who can wield the power effectively as the progenitor." I shook my head when I saw the Arcanist start to rise and question me. "But I will not go into the subject of family wars and trouble -- we will be here until the Horizon ceremony."

"Ah," The white tiger said with a grin. He saw my ears fold back, I know he did. "And how does the noble Castor family -- proud tigers, all of them -- pass down their power?"

I looked away, red faced. "The...heir of the family, the crown prince --"

"Which is you," Quintin added.

"-- Which is me, must be gifted the essence of life from the head of the family."

"Which is...?" Quintin had that grin on his face again. He knew I didn't relish talking about this in public. It was not something I openly discussed.

"Their seed," I said with a lowered chin. "I must have my father's seed every year, during the Horizon ceremony, so I can be ready to take on the household. When I am older, I will eventually eclipse my father in power, and when that happens, all his magic will be mine."

"I cannot wait, Your Grace, for this year's Horizon ceremony," Quintin said with a playful grin and looked around. "Now then, since I believe our crown prince is properly befuddled, let us resume our lessons on the big family bloodlines in the kingdom."

---

It was still raining the day of the Horizon ceremony. For that reason, the festivities, normally held in the large royal garden, were now indoors in the large banquet hall. I had hoped for something outside so the guests would have something more to do. Usually, there were games set up and events coordinated, but with the whole thing being reduced to speeches and dinner with music, everyone would be paying close attention to me.

I stood there in my regal finery, a silk green robe edged in black that was so short it easily doubled as a tunic. It was an outfit that showed we, the Castor family, had grown out of the need to wear robes and have evolved with the rest of society, but we did not forget our roots. I wore suede trousers and a matching black sash around my waist. Ever since I had passed my eighteenth summer, I had been quite the looker, or so my younger sister would often say. Everyone was curious as to whom I would pick for a wife, but I couldn't until I had all of Father's magic -- if I had a wife and sired a child, the child would probably die from the odd link in family magic. I had to wait until I had all of Father's magic, or until Father died.

Speaking of Father, he was already sitting at the banquet table in front of the raised dais of the throne, next to Mother who was wearing a beautiful sky blue dress. We were all tigers, all the nobility were, but Mother always had the brightest fur at the parties. No one knew how she did it, some suspected a glamour or two, but Mother was never one for illusions. No, she was just pretty naturally.

Father was dressed in his own suede trousers and tunic-robe, complete with red cloak over his shoulders clasped on by the golden broach on his chest. His head was adorned with the simple circlet of the realm, the shining yellow jewel in the middle signifying our dominance over the light element. He was a big man, though getting up there in terms of age. He looked more tired these days than ever before, and after this celebration, I would begin to take on some of his more menial duties to get myself acclimated to the throne.

There was a toast and laughter, complete with applause. Father must have said something silly again. He was at that age where he could say just about anything crass and no one cared -- he was too well liked anyway. Since he had been king we had known nothing but peace in this realm. How he kept the peace with the wolves and the foxes I didn't know, but I would have to learn.

When I saw one of the young attendants poke his head inside the small anteroom I had been hiding in, I knew I was being summoned. With a sigh and a blush I came out of the room to the applause of the crowd. Everyone stood, save for Mother and Father.

I slipped into prince mode immediately. I smiled and waved, stopping now and then to shake some hands as I passed people in the front tables, and then stepped up to the royal table. I kneeled down in front of it, my right arm crossed over my chest and my head staring at the fine marble beneath me.

"I am summoned, My King," I said loud enough that it echoed in the room. I've put on this performance for the ceremony many times now. I had the ritual shoved into my head and knew, ultimately, what I had to do.

"Crown Prince of the Realm Erik Castor, First of his Name and Heir apparent to the throne of the Realm," my father introduced me in his loud and deep voice that made the fur on the back of my neck stand up. As old as Father was getting, he was still a strong man. "You have lived another year as my heir and son, another glorious time in the history of our realm -- you are a fine prince and will be a wonderful king. I welcome you to this hall, and do officially proclaim the Horizon Ceremony begun. Do you still wish to be my heir and future king of this realm?"

"Yes, My King, I do," I said loudly. "By your mercy and your grace, I will learn from you and serve with humility and honor, carrying our family name into the future and protecting the light and everything it stands for!"

Cheers went up at my proclamation, the same one I had made year after year and Father had made when he was my age. I wondered what would have happened if I got a word wrong?

I heard a chuckle from the table and heard Father knock his ringed hand on the wood, the signal for me to stand up. I rose to my feet and smiled at Father, who put his goblet down and motioned me in for an embrace. A quick trip around the banquet table and I was there, being hugged by the father I loved and the man I was destined to replace.

"Look at you," the king said, his ocean-blue eyes glittering with love and joy as he looked me up and down. "You are filling out these silks wonderfully, Erik. You remember what you looked like when we first presented you to the kingdom? Not a Horizon ceremony, your birthday."

I thought about it and then laughed. "Ah, right. I remember someone saying that I was skin and bones. People wondered how I could be so thin."

"It just took some magic in you!" my father said with a hand on my back, slowly turning me to the dais and stepping up with him. He turned to me and touched my cheek with his hand, looking into my eyes which shared the same hue as his. "Are you ready for this, boy?"

"No," I said honestly, blushing. "I... I don't understand why I have to be in front of everyone."

"Tradition and witnesses, Erik," Father said quietly. "It must be done or people would question if the family had an heir at all."

"I know," I said, looking left and right and swallowing, "but I mean is, I enjoy these moments with you in private."

"Ah," The king said with a coy smirk. "You mean like three weeks ago when we were out hunting boars?"

"Father..."

"Or when we were swimming in the pools behind the castle,"

"Father...!"

"Or what about the --"

"Dad!" I almost shouted, hissing and immediately folding my ears back. I didn't like everyone knowing what I did with him in private. That was my time, our time. I looked down at my feet. My father just laughed.

"We will have to break you of that bashfulness, my boy." The king then sat down on his throne and motioned for me to open my tunic.

I nodded and undid the hidden clasps, letting it hang open with little effort. I didn't take it off since I wasn't supposed to, but Father needed to see a good part of me for the ceremony.

He raised his hand and the room hushed.

"We will honor this Horizon Day with the Blessing to my son. He will take from me what has been given, and he will sit in this throne one day as your king. Witness love and power be conveyed in its purest form, my people."

Father then motioned for me to stand in front of him and he put his hands on my chest. I watched as he closed his eyes and his lips moved, muttering the ancient spell that opened my magical conduits to outside magic.

With a gasp, my whole body stood on end and my back arched. What had felt like a closed door burst open with a gust of wind, and I felt my fingers tingle and my body become more sensitive. I could feel the light inside of me, dormant and incomplete, resonate with the energy, this massive well of energy, that was inside my father. He slid his fingers down between my pectorals, opening more gates. I felt the hum of magic as my stripes began to glow. I heard people gasp behind me. This hadn't happened before, but it was a good sign -- my body was adapting to the magic.

When Father's hands left my chest I watched him shudder. His eyes looked at me not as a loving man but as a man, a male, who was hungry for more. I didn't understand it at first, but as I got older I realized that this bond, this ceremony, linked us together.

Right now, the two of us were only focused on one thing: each other.

Our need to be close to one another -- close enough to pair, to bond, to mate -- was so strong, it was almost mind-altering. I could feel myself harden in my slacks, my nipples hardening from the tingling sensation running through my body, and I could not help letting a soft, sensuous moan escape from between my needy lips. Father purred and reached up, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me down to my knees between his legs, which were spread wide apart, ready to accept me.

"Do not keep me waiting, son," he said quietly, with a soft purr in his voice, as he undid his slacks with shaking hands. I watched with dry lips and mouth as the laces came undone and his erection came into view, hearing a few murmurs behind us.

Father was not the longest man when it came to his erection, but he was thick, handsomely so. I didn't measure up in that area and I was hoping I would as more magic filled me, but who knew how the body worked. Even the best mages in the kingdoms still didn't entirely understand the workings of how a boy became a man.

I could smell my father's lust, his need, with my nose so close the heat radiated off to the sensitive skin there. I watched hungrily as a bead of pre formed on his lip. He stroked my head with a hand.

"I gave you life with this, now I give you power, my son. Take it." And he pulled my head close so quickly I almost didn't open my mouth in time.

To say it was bliss when I felt my father slide into my muzzle was an understatement. It was warm and hard, but also giving when pressed. I could taste him, everything about him, and it made me pulse. I could feel him too. We were both finally getting what we needed, and no one else existed in the whole world at this moment.

Father's hand was on the back of my head, pulling me in closer so my lips slid down further, his length spreading my jaw more and more. I did my best to adapt quickly, but I had to hold myself steady when I felt my whiskers brush his pelvic area. He was so deep down my throat I was worried I would choke, but I could also feel him waiting for me, though incredibly eager at the same time.

When I was confident I was relaxed enough, I started to slide my muzzle backwards, slurping on the shaft and then back down once half of it had slid out. I heard my father moan and I imagined what he looked like, leaning back in his chair like that, enjoying himself while his subjects stared on. His hands left my head and just let me work. I moved my head slowly at first, twisting my upstroke to tease him in a way I had learned recently during one of the private sessions we had together, trying to emulate what he did to me that caused so much pleasure that I saw stars explode.

The large hall was devoid of speaking, but I could hear glasses move and dishes clink, as well as feeling all the eyes on my back, wondering what I was thinking at this moment. All I could say was that if I died like this, I would be happy.

Father soon felt like I was moving too slow, I believe, because I felt his large hand on the back of my head pulling me in closer, deeper, and holding me there while he made sure I was relaxed enough. Strokes like this, followed by grunts from his broad chest, indicated he was eager and I was willing, so he moved on.

Both his hands gripped the sides of my skull, gently holding me, but also firmly. I could feel his fingers push into the back of my head and his claws extend in a show of dominance, holding me in a way that if I tried to pull away and back off, I would suddenly find myself with scars on the back of my head. Not that I was going to do any such thing.

It was now that Father took control of the ceremony, his hips pushing up from the throne, heavy pendulum balls swaying and slapping against my chin, the thick shaft pushing beyond my lips and my throat. He could hear my soft little whimpers as the ache in my throat was both pleasurable and fulfilling.

"Are you ready, my son?" I heard him say through heavy breathing, and I risked an open eye and a glance upward at him. He was leaning forward now, his eyes half lidded and pulling my head in closer, bucking his hips harder and quicker. I was just in place and used. I couldn't respond now even if I wanted to.

"Then... take this blessing...! ARRRRRGH!!"

I did not see my Father orgasm, but I felt it. I felt it with my whole body, in fact.

I felt his power explode throughout me, his hot seed filling my muzzle, the salty taste overwhelming my senses and blocking out the rest of the world. With each drop that erupted onto my tongue I could feel spikes of pleasure and bliss rush through me, making my body jerk uncontrollably. Each gulp, each swallow of that powerful seed made my body tense and spasm, my stripes glowing hotter. I felt like I was a bowl with too much water, and that I would soon burst.

But Father did not relent. He did not stop. He pumped more and more seed into me and I drank it all down. I could feel the warmth in my stomach spreading, feeling a kind of connection to this man unlike anything before, and I could feel the warmth and radiance of the light from within me.

It was beautiful, and I sucked on his cock, drinking every drop of him because I wanted more of him, more of his magic. My thirst seemed unquenchable. I just wanted everything there was about this older tiger, even his entire being, and my body was compelling me to get it.

At the end of his long and satiating orgasm, my father let go of my head, and I was allowed to suck freely on him, trying to draw out every last drop of him as I possibly could. I could hear him panting in his throne, and I opened an eye to see him leaning in it toward me. He must have been sensitive, but he was chuckling quietly as he watched me bob my head up and down, one hand now curled around the base of his cock to help keep it angled just right.

"I believe I am spent, Erik," the king said with a brush of his hand through my headfur. "And the ritual is complete."

I still did not stop. I wouldn't. I wanted more, much more than what I got from this ritual.

I only came up when I felt my father put his hand under my chin and lift me off his length, making me look at him in his deep blue eyes. He looked tired... smaller somehow, but also pleased.

"This ceremony is just for the people, my boy. If you want me like that, you shall save it for the bedchamber where I can return such blessings. Speaking of which, you may want to retire to your room for a change of clothes."

I blinked and shifted on my knees as I felt the cool wetness on my groin. I was beet-red when I realized I had orgasmed myself, ejaculating without even touching my shaft but merely from drinking down my father's seed. I blushed and laid my cheek on his lap, looking up at him.

"In a minute, My King," I said tiredly but with desire still lingering in my breath. "I want to wait and see if His Majesty is willing to offer me seconds before the crowd leaves."