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Reforged pt 2

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Arthur used to bathe with his sons often, especially when they were at their youngest. He had fond memories when it came to caring for Peter's developing horns and teaching the calf how to wash his own mane. The young Minotaur was always complacent, obedient, and eager to absorb whatever the blacksmith taught him. He was well-behaved and diligent in all things. Such a trait wasn't exactly picked up by Harold.

The Gnoll had been a handful during his cub-years... so much so that Arthur greatly benefited from Peter's proactive assistance. It took the two of them to successfully wash Harold, who was a bundle of energy, and either hated bathing so much he made a horrible mess, or enjoyed it so much he made a horrible mess-- the Human wasn't sure which at any given time but the end result was always the same: a horrible mess. Fortunately, that phase concluded once Lucas was added to the mix since the Gnoll was forced to take on some responsibility and help out with the hatchling.

Lucas, out of all three, was neither particularly difficult nor overly helpful for his formative years. The young Kobold had an affinity for the water, so he loved to bathe, but he had his own way of doing things from an early age. Kobolds, Arthur learned, were generally not very affectionate and were incredibly independent. Although Lucas was given much love and attention, he still held a great dislike for being cleaned by anyone else... until he hit adolescence. Ever since then he greatly enjoyed sharing the bathing corner with his brothers.

Bath time for Arthur's sons was a social affair in the household. Most times it was a perfectly innocent task of getting clean efficiently but, every now and again the three humanoids chose to express certain urges that otherwise went ignored in their lives; during that time they would often get much dirtier before they got clean. Arthur usually washed before or after the three of them, spending their 'play-time' preparing food or finishing up some small project at the small house's main table but that night was different.

Sabrina had left him yet again, and that meant he was alone with his sons in the house. While that was not a wholly unusual event, what differed was that the blacksmith let his adopted sons drag him to the bathing basin, hot water already steaming away in the pails lined up against the inset rocks. Peter remained behind him, the big Minotaur's hands slowly loosening the cord that held the Human's trousers up while Lucas looked on hungrily; the Kobold's sinewy, forked tongue brushed across his scaled lips and his slitted pupils widened appreciatively as Arthur's leggings finally fell free.

Not to be ignored, Harold, who had up until that moment had been having his tail hole cleaned by his younger brother's tongue, turned back around. The Gnoll took hold of the Kobold, both paws wrapping entirely around Lucas' hips, and he began nipping at the whip-like tail wagging appreciatively across his chest. His softly growling voice was full of humor... and desire. "Leaving things half done, are ya, L?"

Not even bothering to look back at Harold, Lucas curled his tail around until it created a corkscrew, encircling the Gnoll's rigid black flesh several times before it started softly stroking him. Eyes still glued to Arthur's newly exposed groin, he just hissed appreciatively. "I'm being a good son and attending Dad..."

The blacksmith felt his eldest son still behind him and, as the Minotaur flexed, Arthur felt the warm caress of water being poured over his head. A large, calloused hand began working the water into his hair and the Human let out an appreciative sigh even as he held out a hand, resting its palm gently on his youngest's head, fingers spread so that they could rest on either side of the small ridge running down the middle of Lucas' head.

Even as the Kobold eased forward, Arthur felt his heart quicken; it had been over a week since he and Sabrina had been intimate and, though he wanted it, a mere afternoon after his woman had left wouldn't be right. Providing gentle pressure, he pushed his son back. "He is right, Lucas... do not neglect your brother. I have always taught you to finish what you start."

The Kobold's tail began to caress the Gnoll's rock-hard flesh faster, causing Harold to begin rocking his hips in the air. Lucas licked his scaled lips again, speaking with a soft hiss that held a strange allure to it. "It's okay, Dad... you know I'm good at handling several tasks at once."

Arthur kept his hand in place, again declining his son's invitation. As more time passed he began to realize that it was a poor idea for a number of reasons, and he elected to remove himself from the situation. Turning to the side, he easily slid from Peter's loose grasp, gave the Minotaur a gentle embrace, and then motioned to Harold and Lucas. "I believe your brothers will need some more company, Peter... if you don't mind."

His eldest looked down at him, his expression full of reverence, but small cracks of disappointment also shone through. "We're here for you if you need us, Father... you do not need to--"

The blacksmith smiled, resting his hand against his caring eldest's chest. "I know, Peter... but I do not need anything... I have everything I need."

Peter smiled, but Arthur felt as though it may have held a hint of dejection and the Minotaur leaned down to rest his forehead against his head. "I love you, Father."

Arthur smiled back, using both hands to hold his son's head as he gave it a gentle bonk with his own; it was a game they played often when Peter was younger, although, as the years went by they were much more careful. As he slowly slipped out from between his three sons, the Human nodded. "And I love you... all of you."

The blacksmith stepped aside, remaining just within the bathing basin as he tended to himself, continuing to use the bucket that Peter had started using on him. As he cleaned himself, Arthur was given a front row seat of the continued antics of his sons. Peter stepped closer to Lucas, holding a bucket so the Kobold could add some soap to it before dipping his talons in and start washing the Minotaur's furry abdomen. It wasn't all innocent, however, as Lucas' tail continued its work on Harold's member, which was constantly drip a fluid much thicker than water.

Eventually, as Lucas got to the end of the first bucket, his head ended up pressed against Peter's broad gut as Harold unwound the Kobold's tail from his erection and sheathed it instead in a single go, right up to the hilt in his younger brother's opening. Although Arthur kept track of his sons and their antics, he often didn't know which of the Kobold's slits Harold favored since Gnoll used both but, based on the angle of Lucas' tail during that session, and its sudden leftward shift at the base, the blacksmith had a guess along with an insistent erection of his own).

Finishing his bathing ritual, Arthur reached out to give a gentle pat to the side of Lucas' face and then brushed his hand across the mane on Harold's head. The Gnoll's tongue flopped out of his muzzle as he arched his neck to make sure that his fur was held against his father's palm as long as possible before he focused his attention back to the Kobold. The blacksmith stepped out of the bathing cistern and grabbed one of the towels waiting on a nearby hanger. Making his way to the hearth, Arthur's attention remained on his sons, and the sound of Harold thrusting forward into Lucas: an eager grunt comingled with a delighted squeak.

Peter's deep baritone addressed the situation. "Be gentle, Harold."

Lucas' chirping objection was filled with humor, and an obvious chiding tone meant for the Minotaur as he countered the statement. "Don't listen to him... you can do better than that, Harold."

A shiver ran up Arthur's spine when he heard the sound of a heavy furry sac slapping against wet scales followed immediately thereafter by Lucas' surprised squeak. Harold's voice was mixed with a growling chuckle. "Issat more of what you're lookin' for, L?"

Lucas hissed in response; it wasn't a sound of aggression, rather, it was full and complete pleasure. "Oh, Kord couldn't do better himself..."

Peter's monotone objection was entirely expected. "No blaspheming."

The Kobold was quick to counter. "Well... maybe if you gave me something to keep my snout busy I-- owmf."

The sudden silence from his youngest accompanied by the sound of lewd slurping told Arthur all he needed to know but, the pure mechanics of it seemed impossible, especially since he knew just how large his eldest was. Kneeling before the cook pot, the blacksmith glanced toward the corner where his sons were bathing, and his eyes widened as he locked his gaze on the three of his sons connected together in the throes of physical excitement. Although he held the cooking spoon in his left hand, his right slid down beneath his towel to hold something else.

Lucas was held entirely off the ground, legs dangling in the air as Harold railed into him from behind, one paw wrapped around his brother's abdomen, the other gripping near the base of the kobold's reptilian tail. Arthur watched, hypnotized by the sheer capacity for his youngest son to be able to handle the other two. Harold's black-skinned shaft was commendable enough, but to see Peter's girthy flesh disappear into Lucas' hungry maw and down his throat was mind-blowing; although Arthur knew what his sons were up to often enough he'd never really paid it so much attention.

Eventually, the bubbling of the dinner pot managed to free Arthur's focus from the spectacle... but only marginally. Paying attention to the boiling stew, the blacksmith lowered the spoon so he could add a few tubers that Lucas had already peeled and diced, and a handful of small carrot pieces. The sounds off to his right continued rhythmically as Harold never ceased rutting his younger brother, all the while punctuated by the staccato slurps of the Kobold happily servicing his Minotaur sibling. Eventually it was Peter's deep throated groan of pleasure that pulled Arthur's attention back to the scene.

The Human's breath caught in his chest as his throat constricted; Lucas continued to hang in the air, supported not only by Harold at that point, but by Peter's large hands, one gripping a shoulder while the other encircled the Kobold's entire snout. The Minotaur was quivering in place, his hips half-thrusting as Lucas happily worked the enormous bovine shaft lodged between his scaled lips. Another groan later and Peter's tail began to flag. Arthur wheezed out his breath in surprise, not just that he was watching his sons at such an intimate and person moment, but because, without even realizing it, his he had very nearly brought himself to climax.

Having not paused in pleasing himself, Arthur watched on as Peter was driven over the edge into an orgasm while the blacksmith's own hit home. Biting back any sounds he was about to make himself, he knelt, transfixed as the Minotaur hit his plateau, and Lucas quickly began swallowing greedily. Even as the Human's own seed shot out and spattered the stone block floor, the Kobold fought to take in everything his eldest brother had to offer... and failed... miserably.

Much to Lucas' credit, despite having limited ability to seal his maw due to his thin scaled lips, the majority of the escaping Minotaur seed actually came out of his nose. Every opportunity he had it appeared that the Kobold forced as much of Peter's lengthy cock down his throat so most of the gouts of thick fluid went straight into his stomach, but the Minotaur hadn't stopped rocking his hips, meaning that any wrongly-timed spurts ended up coming back out of Lucas' nostrils... but the Kobold didn't seem to mind in the least.

Hetor's panting, in the meantime, became even louder, and his voice was strained as he murmured "Oh, burning flux, that is so hot..."

It was a mild explicative, and one that Arthur knew well in the trade; burning flux was never desirable, but, as far as cursing went, it wasn't something he generally discouraged. Considering the situation, in fact, it went by almost unnoticed. The Human finally ceased stroking himself, drawing his messy digits away from his still dribbling shaft and, a moment later Harold cried out, a mixture of a grunt and a yowl. Looking up from his own mess, the blacksmith was right in time to see Harold make one of his own.

The Gnoll had stopped thrusting, choosing instead to grind his hips up against the back of Lucas'. Although the Kobold was still impaled from the front by Peter's shaft, he didn't neglect the younger of his two brothers, and his tail had wrapped most of the way around Harold's waist, the tip of it looking as though it had disappeared up beneath the Gnoll's own, the tip somewhere past the opening of Harold's tail-hole. Harold, in the meantime, shuddered rhythmically, each one punctuated by a grunt, and small rivulets of pearly fluid began dribbling down the fur of his sac as Lucas was filled to overflowing.

The entirety of the interaction couldn't have lasted more than five minutes, but the three brothers were in no hurry to disengage. Eventually Haold leaned back against the wall of the bathing corner, one paw supporting himself against it while the other continued gripping Lucas' tail. Peter, on the opposite side of the Kobold was stroking the youngest brother behind an ear-sail, the other gently cupping him under his chin. While Arthur knew there was more to it than that, the way his brothers cradled him almost gave the illusion that the Kobold was actually suspended between them by the grace of their members alone.

Finally, after a lengthy amount of euphoric reflection, the three eventually disengaged. Peter started first, holding Lucas while carefully drawing his hips back, still semi-hard member flopping out of the Kobold's maw. Once free to do so, Lucas let out a belch, and a cum-bubble popped against his nostrils. He sniffled, and raised a talon up to rub it clear. "Mmm... I don't think I need anything else for dinner."

The statement could have been taken as humor but, as Harold finally pulled free and lowered Lucas to the floor of the basin, Arthur could see that the Kobold's belly was visibly distended, as if he'd already eaten a feast. More than filled to the brim, the amount of fluid in Lucas was made all the more obvious by the cascading stream of semen that leaked out of his tail hole once he was 'uncorked'. The Kobold let out a satisfied hiss, running a single finger along the underside of the pointed, deep purple flesh of his own penis, visibly jutting out of his genital slit. It began to pulse, adding his own cum to the floor as his eyes gazed far off, half lidded while he reveled in the feel of his release.

Arthur was the first to come down off of his sexual high, mindfully grabbing an old piece of scrap leather and using it to wipe up his mess before tossing it into the fire while his three sons went back to cleaning one another. Harold was the first of the four to speak. "I'm glad you liked watching, Dad... but I wish you would have stayed and joined in."

Lucas glanced toward the blushing blacksmith, sinewy tail wagging at the tip. "He came? Did he cum? He came, didn't he?"

Harold dumped a double-pawful of water over his little brother's head. "Yes he did. I think he REALLY liked watching. Did you enjoy yourself, Dad?"

The Human could have answered any number of ways. He certainly had appreciated the show his sons put on for him and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. Arthur loved his sons, and the fact that they were able to enjoy one another without inhibitions was a good thing but, at the same time, Harold's desire to have him join them was something he just couldn't bring himself to do. He was faithful to Sabrina-- even if she wasn't always the easiest to deal with, she was his second-half and they were his sons. "I did. Thank you, boys."

Lucas plugged one of his nostrils with a single finger and let out a quick exhale through the other, then repeated it with the other side, each time blasting the semen from his airway before he addressed Arthur. "I wish you'd join in, Dad... I bet I'd really like your taste... or the feel of you sliding into my--"

Peter forestalled further by upending an entire bucket of water over both of his brothers and, once they were sputtering, said his own piece. "Father loves all three of us, but he also loves Mother. He is loyal to her. It's not fair for you to ask so much of him."

Despite sputtering from the sudden addition of water, the Kobold wasn't the least dissuaded. "It's not fair that SHE asks so much from him! Sabrina doesn't treat him like he should be treated-- only WE do that."

The Minotaur's expression took on a hard edge and Arthur realized that Peter was about to chastise his younger brother, but the blacksmith didn't give the eldest the chance. "That's enough, Lucas. She is the woman I swore myself to, and--"

Harold began to run his soapy paws across Lucas's shoulders and down his back while Arthur started talking, but he interrupted his father before he could finish. "Then why aren't you married?"

It wasn't a new topic; it wasn't even an OLD topic-- the question of marriage had haunted Arthur for his entire life, and his sons were just the newest version of that. The inquiry had been done to death by the three of them, having started as an innocent one before ultimately moving to a telling statement which revealed that they were liking her less and less as the years went by. It really didn't change anything, however, and he'd long-since learned how to address them challenging his dedication to her. "Marriage is a goal for some, but Sabrina and I are beyond that. What we have will last through anything."

Lucas had always been the crafty one, and, as Arthur turned back to attend the cooking stew, the Kobold approached the topic from a different angle. "So it's okay for her to cheat on you with the carpenter, but you can't enjoy time with your sons?"

All bathing stopped as Harold and Peter fell silent. Arthur stopped stirring the pot and slowly pulled the wooden spoon out before setting it off to the side. The blacksmith took in a deep breath then slowly exhaled then turned to address his youngest. "I have already forgiven her for that, Lucas... you're not allowed to hold it against her."

The little Kobold stuck out his forked tongue, reaching down to dip his talons in one of the fresh buckets of water. "Someone should if you won't. She's slow poison, Dad, and I see her killing you a little more every day. She's not even sorry she did it."

Arthur always made it a point to maintain an even tone and attitude with his sons, but Lucas sometimes made that difficult. Securing his towel around his waist, the blacksmith stood up as he addressed his belligerent son. "You cannot know what is in her head, Lucas. She has expressed regret over her actions and I choose to believe her."

Lucas didn't relent. "Which she did only because Peter smelled him on her. If she was never caught I doubt she would have said anything."

The blacksmith would have been ready to continue the argument if not for the fact that the Kobold's words had struck a nerve; Lucas wasn't wrong. Stepping away from the cauldron, Arthur let his towel drop away as he sorted through his clean clothes. He said nothing and, gradually, his three sons went back to washing. It hurt him to admit that Sabrina likely would have kept her physical relationship with the town's carpenter secret if not for Peter's sense of smell and lack of tact. In fact, if Arthur had to consider one point when things soured between her and his sons the most, it was probably that winter.

He and Sabrina had argued about some meaningless detail around the house and, looking back, he realized that she had just used it as an excuse to leave. As it turned out, the more often she found reasons to walk out on him the more time she had to spend with the carpenter, but the reveal happened when she returned the following morning and Peter's innocent statement about smelling the carpenter's seed was enough to draw out a confession. Sabrina was not a bad person, and Arthur knew it, hence she had come clean.

He'd forgiven her, of course, and for a time after that, despite increased hostility toward his sons, Sabrina had done right by him. Gradually, however, she began to grow distant again and, even though she took her leave from the house on an increasing basis, she had sworn to him that her days of dalliances were done. Even as the blacksmith finished donning his clothing, he murmured "She has not gone back to him since. She would have told me if she had."

His three sons had finished their bath and were drying off. Despite Lucas' head being covered by a towel, his voice wasn't muffled enough to misunderstand his statement "You told Peter not to bring up her scent to you ever again."

Clearing his throat, Arthur put on his tunic and glanced back to the three, leveling his gaze at his youngest. "That is because I trust her."

Lucas went to open his snout to speak but Harold quickly pressed down on it with a paw. Ears lowered and eyes glancing at the floor, the Gnoll mumbled out "You didn't tell him not to talk to us about it."

While Arthur appreciated tact from all of his sons, Harold had a way with it that bordered on wily. It was obviously not something that any of his three sons had any great comfort in bringing up; even Lucas, who always did seemed to treat it more like a scab he couldn't help but pick, but the Gnoll's statement lacked subtlety despite not actually addressing it, leaving him to interpret the statement for himself. "Peter?"

Looking down at hooves, the Minotaur's head rotated toward the blacksmith but his eyes remained fixated on the floor. The heavy reluctance in his tone spoke volumes more than his verbal response. "Yes, father?"

There was no good way for Arthur to address the situation. He trusted Sabrina, and wasn't about to consider himself cuckolded out of hand. He also trusted his sons, and wasn't about to consider himself a blind fool. "...has she?"

Peter looked as though he were trying to make himself as small as Lucas. Tugging at his horn in the same way he did when he was younger and caught doing something wrong, the Minotaur mumbled "You said not to talk about--"

The blacksmith wasn't about to accept the brush off. "Tell me."

His eldest son looked up, ears back as he gazed at his father. "Mother walked in that direction and when she left she smelled of... excitement."

There were only two directions on the road outside the smithy, Arthur reasoned, so there was a 50-50 chance that it was still innocent... except for what Peter referred to as the scent of 'excitement'. "We'd just argued... of course she would have been worked up."

It was a flimsy excuse and he knew it. Peter didn't even bother trying to be subtle about crushing it. "It was a different kind of excitement, Father."

Arthur remained standing by the table for many long moments saying nothing. His sons continued their post-washing activities as each changed into his respective night clothing. No words were exchanged until Arthur spoke. "I will speak with her when she comes back."

He half-expected Lucas to say something but, to his surprise, it was actually Peter, the least likely son. The Minotaur held out a hand to him in concern. "Father... it is possible that one day she will not come back."

Letting out a steadying breath, the blacksmith grunted, and headed off toward the sleeping room; he suddenly wasn't that hungry. "Then that will be her decision. Until then, I will remain loyal to her-- to us."

Arthur retreated to the room reserved for his bed. His small cottage had only three rooms if he counted the privy; his sons slept in the living room while he and Sabrina had a room to themselves. Sitting down on his simple framed bed with stuffed mattress, the blacksmith let out another deep breath, using the action to stabilize his mind, which was working as hard as the bellows of a cold forge needing to be warmed.

His sons were not Human, that much was true, but they were good boys. They didn't lie, and he knew more likely than not that he and Sabrina truly would have to have a lengthy talk. He loved her, and he was certain that she had love for him but, if he was honest, he realized that they weren't like they used to be. If they'd truly grown that distant, could he fault her for seeing physical intimacy elsewhere? The answer was no, but he still wanted to feel like he should tell himself yes.

It angered him, and it saddened him. Kord, his god, often spoke of strength, and sorrow was not strength. It was always easier to be angry than sorrowful because being angry was empowering. His love of Sabrina had never wavered but, despite that, it had been many years since he actively liked her, and having her out of the house was often less painful than having her there.

Yes, he resolved, when she returned he would confront her and demand a confession. He would tell her that he would not stop her from seeing the carpenter if that was what she wanted, but if she did then she would need to move out and be with her new lover instead-- that was the plan.

Arthur laid down on the bed, speaking aloud "If she wishes to be with him I will not stand in the way... but I will not be played for a fool."

Feeling his path come together during the quiet introspection, the blacksmith finally closed his eyes, willing his mind to peace; he didn't have to consider her any longer. When peace eluded him, Arthur resolved to fill his thoughts with better things, and he let his mind wander, considering his latest works at the forge, upcoming plans for resupplying, and how far his sons had come. When his thoughts finally settled, it was on them-- on his three sons. That was how he finally found sleep: considering family... which did not include Sabrina.