Chapter 21: Shameful Lusts

Princess Ava – Echur, The Princedom of Kivoneth, The Strifelands of Zeutch

I couldn’t believe I stood here.

My entire body trembled. When I awoke this morning, a restlessness seized me along with a horny itch in my pussy. I tried masturbating to ease it. I tried using Greta’s fingers, her tongue, and even had her strap on a leather dildo and fuck me.

Nothing satisfied me. I needed that forbidden pleasure. I craved it to my utter shame. How could I lust for a man I hated, let alone for my father? But images of Sven bedding Kora filled my mind, their incestuous passion ringing through my head, keeping my pussy dripping, my nipples aching, my body yearning for pleasure.

“Don’t do this,” I muttered to myself as I raised my hand before the door. “Stop, Ava. Stop.”

I knocked.

“What am I doing?” I asked myself. I loved Sven. Even with his ... deviant desires, I cared for him. But...

He fucked his sister. I could fuck my father.

My cheeks reddened as a voice barked, “What?”

“Father,” I said, my voice trembling. “I ... I need to...”

A chair scraped on stone. Footsteps thudded. A lock clunked. The door creaked open. My father stood over me, color appearing in his normally bloodless face, his ivory skin usually melting into his pale-blond locks.

“My sweetling,” he groaned, seizing my shoulders and pulling me in. “What is it? Is it about last night?”

I nodded my head, my cheeks scarlet. I could just tell him it made me feel weird. Explain that he’s my father, that what we did was wrong. Instead, I let him lead me to his desk, covered in papers. He moved around it, sitting down on his chair, motioning me to sit.

“Do you feel ... discomfort. I’m told the first time for a girl can be ... painful.”

I blinked. He thought me a virgin? Did he not know Sven plucked my cherry years ago?

“No, that’s not it,” I said, fidgeting. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to do this. When did I become such a depraved hussy. Just looking at his face surged hot anger through me. I wanted to rip out his throat.

And couldn’t.

So instead I moved around his table, that hot anger feeding another emotion. My pussy grew hotter beneath my blue skirts. I straddled his waist, my hands stroking his face. I grabbed his face, fingernails biting into his flesh, moments from clawing him.

Then I kissed him.

He groaned into my lips, his hands engulfing me as I ground on him. I felt his cock swelling through his woolen hose. I ground on him, my pussy burning beneath my skirts, the cloth rubbing on my hot flesh. My tongue plunged into his mouth. I closed my eyes.

Sven and I were so much alike. Both of us so foul, so disgusting, to lust after the forbidden. I groaned into my father’s mouth, shivering as his hands slid down my back to cup my ass through my skirt. His fingers dug through the rustling silk, kneading me, pulling me tighter against his bulge.

My hands moved down the front of his doublet, brushing the buttons as I moved lower and lower to what I craved. I didn’t need any foreplay. I dripped. My morning of frustration had left me ready. The hour I spent forcing Greta to pleasure me had buttered up my nasty cunt. My slattern hole craved only one thing now.

My hands shoved into his stretchy hose, seizing his cock. I trembled, moaning into his mouth. My nipples throbbed in my bodice as I drew him out. I rose, my skirts rustling. His hands moved, pulling up on them.

Our lips parted.

“My sweetling,” he grinned at me. “I knew you loved me.”

“So much, Father,” I lied, fighting the urge to spit in his face. I needed his cock in me. Why did I want to fuck him? I hated him.

I slammed my pussy hard on his dick, fucking down his shaft. He grunted in pleasure at my incestuous embrace. I groaned, my father’s dick stretching out my pussy. My back arched, my body welcoming his shaft.

My snatch clenched down on him as I rose. I shivered, the heat burning through my body. I whimpered, Father burying his face into my bodice, kissing at the top slopes of my small breast as I slammed back down his cock.

I fucked him hard. I groaned and gasped, clawing at his shoulders as I rode him. I ground my clit against him. My anger at him, at myself, fueling my pumping hips. The pleasure raced through me. My strawberry-blonde hair fell in my thick braid down my back, brushing his hands grasping at my ass.

“Oh, Daddy, yes,” I hissed at him. “Mmm, I’ve been craving this cock all morning.”

“Yes, yes, yes, my sweetling,” he groaned, his eyes meeting mine, so pale, so cold. “Work that hot little cunt on Daddy’s cock.”

I whimpered louder, looking up at the ceiling. I couldn’t face the monster. I could only fuck him.

Pleasure exploded from my lips as I pumped my snatch up and down his cock. The friction burned so hot through me. My head swam with dizzy delight. I squirmed and clenched my pussy on him, churning my cunt to a froth.