Chapter 5: Blood Ties
The knock on the door was too soft, almost hesitant. It felt alien in the administration building’s usual silence.
“Enter.”
Connor pushed the heavy door open. Dean Ravenwood was not at her desk. She stood by the window, her profile outlined against the gray sky. She didn’t turn.
“Close the door, Connor.”
He did, the latch clicking into place with a sound like a final verdict. The room was warmer than he remembered, the scent of old books and her jasmine perfume cloyingly thick.
She finally turned. Her face was a mask of composed authority, but her eyes were different. The cool, assessing gray was gone, replaced by a turbulent, almost wounded intensity. She looked… unraveled.
“Sit,” she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk.
He sat. She didn’t take her own chair. Instead, she leaned against the front of the desk, so close her knees almost brushed his. She was studying him with a frightening focus, her gaze tracing the line of his jaw, the shape of his eyes.
“Your mother,” she began, then stopped, correcting herself with a sharp shake of her head. “Evelyn. She called me last night.”
Connor’s blood went cold. “What? Why?”
“She thought I deserved to know. After all these years.” A bitter smile touched her lips. “She was always the more sentimental one.”
“Know what?”
Dean Ravenwood took a deep, shaky breath. It was the first truly unguarded movement he’d ever seen from her. “We were together, Connor. For three years. It was… intense. When she graduated, she moved away for a law program. A few months later, she called me. She was pregnant.”
The words hung in the air, solid and suffocating. The hum of the building’s ancient heating system seemed to grow deafening.
“She said she wanted to keep it. The baby.” The Dean’s voice was low, each word measured and painful. “I told her she was insane. A child? Out of wedlock? It would have ended her career before it began. It would have destroyed mine. I was just an adjunct professor then. We fought. It was ugly. She stopped taking my calls.”
Connor couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. The world had narrowed to this woman’s face, her words drilling into him.
“I thought she’d… taken care of it.” The euphemism was stark, clinical. “I buried it. Moved on. Built this.” She gestured vaguely at the office, the university beyond. “I never knew. I swear to you, Connor, I never knew she had you.”
Her composure finally cracked. Her hand, which had been resting on the desk, trembled. She reached out, her fingers hovering near his cheek before making contact. Her skin was cool, her touch surprisingly gentle.
“My son,” she whispered, the words so quiet they were almost stolen by the room’s silence. “All this time. And you walked into my office, a pledge for my sorority, and I had no idea. The universe has a truly vicious sense of humor.”
Her thumb stroked his cheekbone, a mother’s gesture from a woman who had never been allowed to be one. The scent of her perfume, usually a weapon of power, now seemed like a shield for a profound, hidden vulnerability.
“Evelyn wants to try again,” she said, her voice regaining a sliver of its steel. “Us. She thinks… we have a second chance. With you.”
Connor’s mind was a riot of conflicting images. The relentless, pleasurable demands of the sisters. Isabelle’s possessiveness. Hailey’s cold appraisal. And now this. This foundational earthquake.
“What do you want?” he asked, his own voice rough.
She leaned closer, her gaze drilling into his. “I want what was taken from me. I want a family. I want to not look at you and feel a hole in my chest I’ve been ignoring for eighteen years.” Her hand slid from his cheek to cradle the back of his neck, a possessive, grounding hold. “But this… situation you’re in complicates things. Immensely.”
“The sorority.”
“Yes. You’re a vital resource for two dozen young women with unique and demanding physiologies. Your presence here is maintaining a very delicate balance. I can’t just… pull you out. The chaos would be unmanageable.” Her grip tightened almost imperceptibly. “And frankly, I’m not sure you’d want me to.”
He thought of the deep, bone-melting satisfaction that followed a day of service. The sense of purpose. The belonging. She was right. The thought of it ending was a different kind of loss.
“So what happens?” he asked.
“We proceed with caution. Discretion is paramount. No one can know. Not the sisters, not the faculty. To the world, you are Connor, the relief pledge. To me…” Her voice broke again. “To me, you are my child. And I will not lose you again.”
She pulled him forward, until his forehead rested against the cool wool of her suit jacket. He could feel the rapid, bird-like flutter of her heart. He didn’t pull away.
“Your blessing,” she murmured into his hair. “Evelyn said we needed your blessing.”
He looked up at her, at the raw need in her eyes, so different from the hungry looks of the sisters. This was deeper. Primal. It scared him more than any of their demands ever had.
“Yes,” he said.
It was all he could manage. But it was enough.
A single, silent tear traced a path through her perfectly applied makeup. She didn’t wipe it away. She simply held him, her son, in the sanctum of her power, as the world outside continued, oblivious.
Then, her phone buzzed on the desk, shattering the moment. She straightened up, her mask of authority slamming back into place so fast it was dizzying. She glanced at the screen.
“Isabelle,” she said, her voice once again the Dean’s. “She’s inquiring about your whereabouts. You’re late for your scheduled session with Chloe and Lena.” She looked at him, a new, unreadable emotion in her eyes—a mix of maternal concern and ruthless practicality. “You should go. We’ll speak again soon. Very soon.”
He stood, his legs unsteady. As he reached for the door, her voice stopped him.
“Connor.”
He turned.
“No matter what happens in that house, no matter what they ask of you… you come to me. You tell me everything. This doesn’t change your duties. It just means you now have a mother watching over you while you perform them.”
He nodded, the reality of his dual existence settling on his shoulders like a lead weight. He opened the door and stepped back into the hallway, the scent of jasmine and loss clinging to him as he walked toward the waiting sisters.
He opened the door and stepped back into the hallway, the scent of jasmine and loss clinging to him as he walked toward the waiting sisters. Isabelle’s eyes narrowed immediately, her usual predatory smile fading into a look of sharp assessment. “You look like you just saw a ghost,” she said, her voice unusually soft.
Connor tried to shrug it off, but his hands were trembling slightly. “Just a tough meeting with the dean.”
Chloe and Lena exchanged a glance, their playful energy dimmed by his obvious distress. “We can reschedule,” Chloe offered, her tone gentle. “You’re not much use to anyone like this.”
He nodded, grateful for the reprieve, and they drifted away without another word, leaving him alone in the corridor. The silence felt heavy, amplifying the echo of Morgana’s confession in his mind.
His classes passed in a blur of half-heard lectures and scribbled notes. The professor’s voice droned on about economic theory, but all Connor could think about was the weight of that single word—son. It rewrote every interaction, every glance from the sisters, every command from the dean.
When the final bell rang, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a text from Evelyn: “Out front. Black sedan. We need to talk.”
The car was idling at the curb, a sleek, dark luxury vehicle that seemed to absorb the afternoon light. Through the tinted window, he saw Evelyn in the passenger seat and Morgana behind the wheel, her profile tense. He slid into the backseat, the leather cool against his skin.
“How are you holding up?” Evelyn asked, turning to face him, her eyes full of concern.
Morgana kept her gaze on the road, but her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “We’re going to dinner,” she stated, her voice tight. “Somewhere quiet.”
They drove to an upscale restaurant with dim lighting and private booths. The air smelled of seared steak and expensive wine, a stark contrast to the sterile academic halls. Once seated, an awkward silence settled over the table until Evelyn broke it.
“I chose this school for you because I loved my time here,” she admitted, swirling her water glass. “And maybe… I was hoping to see her again.”
Morgana’s stern expression softened. “I want to be part of your life, Connor. Both of your lives.” She reached across the table, her fingers brushing Evelyn’s hand. “If you’ll have me.”
Connor took a deep breath. “I want to stay in the sorority,” he said, the words feeling both risky and right. “And I like the… the crossdressing. It feels like me.”
Evelyn’s eyes welled with tears, but she smiled. “Then that’s what matters.”
Morgana nodded, a rare, genuine smile touching her lips. “We’ll make it work. Discreetly.”
The waiter arrived with their food, and for the first time, they began to feel like a family, tangled and imperfect, but real. Connor cut into his steak, the future unfolding before them, uncertain but full of promise.
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of quiet conversation and the clink of silverware. Morgana’s hand found Evelyn’s again, their fingers intertwining on the tablecloth with a tentative, practiced ease that spoke of a love both old and new.
“We should get you back,” Morgana said, her voice softer now, the dean’s edge filed away for the moment. “Before Isabelle sends a search party.”
The ride to the sorority house was quiet, the car filled with a heavy, hopeful silence. Connor stared out the window at the passing streetlights, their halos blurred by the lingering moisture in his eyes. He felt unmoored, but for the first time, it wasn’t a terrifying feeling.
Morgana pulled the sedan to a smooth stop in front of the imposing Victorian house. Light and music spilled from its windows, a stark contrast to the car’s hushed interior.
“You good?” Evelyn asked, turning to look at him, her face etched with a mother’s worry.
“Yeah,” Connor said, and he almost meant it. “I’m good.” He pushed the car door open, the cool night air a shock against his skin.
Before he could step out, Morgana was there too, sliding out from the driver’s side with a fluid, purposeful motion. She came around the car to stand beside him on the curb, her presence a solid, authoritative wall at his back.
The front door of the house swung open before they could even approach. Isabelle stood silhouetted in the doorway, her arms crossed. Chloe and Lena peered over her shoulders, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.
“There he is,” Isabelle said, her voice cutting through the night. “We were about to file a missing persons report.” Her sharp eyes flickered from Connor’s noticeably calmer demeanor to the dean standing protectively close behind him.
Connor opened his mouth, but Morgana spoke first, her voice carrying the easy, casual weight of someone used to being heard.
“My apologies for keeping him, Isabelle,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. She placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder, the gesture both possessive and reassuring. “Evelyn and I were having dinner with our son.”
The word ‘son’ landed in the quiet street with the force of a physical blow. Isabelle’s crossed arms loosened, her jaw going slack for a fraction of a second. Chloe’s eyes went wide.
“Your… what?” Isabelle managed, the composure utterly gone from her voice.
“Evelyn and I are together,” Morgana clarified, her tone matter-of-fact, as if announcing a change in the academic calendar. She gestured with her free hand toward the car, where Evelyn gave a small, hesitant wave from the passenger seat. “It’s recent. And it means I’m going to be in Connor’s life. A lot.”
She squeezed his shoulder, her grip firm and final. “So you’ll understand if I take a personal interest in his well-being here.”
Isabelle recovered quickly, a slow, calculating smile spreading across her face as she looked from the dean to Connor and back. “Of course, Dean Ravenwood. That’s… wonderful news.” Her gaze settled on Connor, glittering with new, unspoken questions. “We’ll take good care of our favorite pledge. I promise.”
“See that you do,” Morgana said, her voice dropping into a lower, more dangerous register that was purely for Isabelle’s benefit. She gave Connor’s shoulder one last squeeze before releasing him. “Go on inside, Connor. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
He nodded, a strange sense of relief washing over him as he walked toward the house. The sisters parted for him, their stares now laced with a new, profound respect, and something else—a flicker of caution.
As he crossed the threshold, he heard Isabelle’s voice, sweet and sharp as a razor. “Well, isn’t that a fascinating development.”
The heavy door clicked shut behind him, sealing him back into his other world."y-yeah I didn't see any of today coming." He sighed, rubbing his temples.
Isabelle watched him closely, her gaze piercing. "Something happens to you, Connor, and I swear to god I will burn this fucking place to the ground." Her voice was low, steady, and full of a fierce protectiveness that sent a chill down his spine.
He looked up at her, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Is that a threat or a promise?"
She smirked in return, her eyes gleaming. "Both."
Connor nodded, feeling a strange sense of comfort in her words. "I'm OK, just a new family dynamic to learn ."
Isabelle arched an eyebrow, "New family dynamic, huh? Sounds about as fun as a root canal."
He chuckled softly, "You have no idea."
Isabelle nodded toward the stairs. "Go upstairs, take a breather. You look like you need it."
He started to protest, but Isabelle cut him off with a sharp look. "Go. Now. I'll deal with the others."
Connor nodded and made his way upstairs, shutting the door to his small room behind him. He leaned against it, his heart pounding in his chest. Too much had happened in a single day to process it all. After a few game he head out of his room, feeling better and ready to provide some relief.
As he stepped into the hallway, he heard muffled voices coming from Isabelle’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see her sitting at her desk, a glass of wine in hand, while Chloe and Lena perched on the edge of her bed. He knocked on the wall next to the door, announcing his presence before peaking in .
“Hey,” Isabelle said, looking up from her laptop. She waved him in with a gesture that was both casual and commanding. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if we could resume my… duties,” Connor said, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks.
Isabelle smirked and took a sip of her wine. “Oh, you mean the relief pledge thing? Sure, why not. Let’s see, Chloe and Lena were supposed to have a session this afternoon, but they were so worried about you, they skipped it.” She looked at the other two, her expression stern. “Am I right?”
Chloe and Lena nodded in unison, their faces flushed. Isabelle turned her attention back to Connor. “So, if you’re up for it, they could use some… relief.”
Connor felt a familiar flutter of anticipation in his stomach.
“I can do that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Isabelle nodded. “Good. And I’ll make sure to schedule you for an extra session with Hailey tomorrow. She’s been asking about you, you know.” Her eyes gleamed with a knowing smirk.
Connor’s heart skipped a beat. “Hailey?” Remembering the first time they met, very no nonsense and bluntness. She has been back for the start of semester and has a reputation for being demanding.”
“Hailey.” The name alone sent a shiver down his spine. He could still recall her cold, appraising eyes, the way they stripped him down to his core.
Isabelle chuckled, appreciating his discomfort. “Don’t worry, Connor. I’ll make sure you’re ready for her. You’ve been doing great with the others. I have no doubt you’ll handle Hailey just fine.”
He nodded, trying to project more confidence than he felt. “I appreciate that, Isabelle. I’ll be ready.”
Isabelle winked at him, then turned back to her laptop.
“Well, then, girls, what are you waiting for? You have your orders.”
Chloe and Lena exchanged a mischievous grin, their eyes locking onto Connor with a hunger that made his heart race. “Your wish is our command,” Chloe purred, her voice laced with a thrilling mix of playfulness and dominance.
In a fluid motion, they each stepped to either side of Connor, their hands reaching for the hem of his shirt. He felt a thrill of anticipation as their fingers brushed his skin, their touch leaving a tingle in its wake. They pulled his shirt up, revealing his toned and flat belly, and he raised his arms obediently to let them remove the garment completely.
“You’re looking mighty fine, Connor,” Lena murmured, her fingers tracing the line of his collarbone.
“Let’s see how far you can take a challenge.”
Connor’s breath hitched as the girls guided him toward the bed, their touch igniting a trail of anticipation across his skin. “I’m game,” he said, his voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in his stomach.
Chloe and Lena exchanged a glance, a silent conversation that spoke volumes. They had done this before, he knew. They were experts at what they did, and the thought both excited and terrified him.
“Good,” Chloe said, her voice a low purr. “Because we’re not going to go easy on you. You’re going to take both of us. At the same time.”
Connor’s eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest. He had heard about this—the infamous split-roast.
But now, facing the reality of Chloe and Lena's shared intention, he felt a surge of both trepidation and exhilaration. His body tingled with anticipation, a mixture of fear and desire churning in his stomach.
"I've never done this before," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure I can handle it?"
Chloe and Lena exchanged a look, their eyes sparkling with a mix of challenge and reassurance. "You've been doing great so far," Lena said, her voice low and soothing. "And we'll go slow. We won't do anything you can't handle."
Connor nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He had to trust them. He had to trust himself.
With a deep breath, Connor nodded, giving them the signal they needed. "OK. Let's do this." Chloe and Lena exchanged a heated glance, their eyes reflecting an intense, shared desire. Chloe climbed onto the bed, positioning herself on her knees above Connor's face, her legs straddling his head. Lena, meanwhile, moved behind him, her hands guiding him gently onto his knees and elbows.
Connor felt a jolt of anticipation as Chloe's scent enveloped him, her musk intoxicating and arousing all at once. He reached up, his hands finding her hips as she lowered herself into his waiting mouth. He closed his eyes, letting the sensation of her warm, rigid cock against his tongue and lips take over his senses.
At the same time, Lena pressed the head of her girlcock against the entrance of his trained asshole, her free hand reaching around to grasp his already-hard cock.
"Relax, baby," she purred in his ear, her voice a soothing counterpoint to the challenge of the dual penetration. "You're going to feel so good like this."
Connor's breath came in short gasps, his body vibrating with the sensory overload. The contrasting sensations of Chloe's rigid cock in his mouth and Lena's slow, deliberate entry sent waves of pleasure and pain through him, the two sisters working in perfect harmony to push him to his limits.
He moaned, the vibrations making Chloe buck against his face, her breath coming faster. "Fuck, Connor," she gasped, her hands gripping his hair tighter. "You're so fucking good at this."
The compliment sent a fresh surge of adrenaline through him, and he redoubled his efforts, swallowing around Chloe's length as she began to move faster, her hips slapping against his face. Behind him, Lena was a steady, reassuring force, her hands on his hips keeping him steady as she stroked in and out of him with slow, deliberate thrusts.
“Feels so good, doesn’t it, Connor?” Lena murmured in his ear, her breath hot on his neck. “You’re doing so well.”
He grunted in response, his body taut with the intense sensations.
Chloe's pace quickened, her breath coming in sharp gasps. "Fuck, Connor, you're going to make me... oh god, right there!" She cried out, her body tensing before she came, her release a warm, sticky flood in his mouth. Lena's thrusts grew faster, more urgent, and with a final, powerful drive, she let out a breathy moan. "Fuck, Connor, you're incredible." She pulled out, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm.
As they both came down from their highs, Chloe and Lena helped Connor to his feet. They guided him to the large, ornate bathtub in the next room, the water already filling from the claw-footed faucet. Chloe turned the water off, steam rising from the surface as it settled.
"We should get you cleaned up," she said, her voice tender and caring.
Lena nodded in agreement, her eyes soft as she took in the sight of Connor. "You were amazing, Connor. Truly amazing."
He felt a blush creep up his cheeks, a mixture of pride and embarrassment warring within him. "Thank you," he whispered, stepping into the tub as the girls helped him in.
The water was hot and soothing, the perfect antidote to the intense session they'd just shared. Connor let out a contented sigh, feeling the tension in his muscles begin to ebb away.