Chapter 7: Jealous Sister

Kora Falk – Despeir Foothills, Kivoneth Princedom, Strifelands of Zeutch

I traced the vine tattoos that covered my body as I waited for my brother to finish talking with Princess Ava inside the tent, my heart still racing. She’d almost caught me in bed with him. Making love to my brother was glorious. I reveled in the incestuous union of our flesh. Finally, I had him. We’d crossed the taboo line and burned so hot together.

But no one could know besides Zanyia. They wouldn’t understand. We transgressed even if it was magical.

Zanyia moaned inside the tent, meeting Ava through her statue, the lamia’s pussy wrapped about my brother’s cock. Thank the gods it wasn’t me riding him when Ava inhabited her proxy and climbed out of my brother’s bag.

My finger followed the vine wrapped about my left breast, the tattoo I received upon entering into my acolyteship of the Goddess Rithi; the first art to decorate my body. I designed it myself. The tattoo had to be over my heart, but unlike other priestly orders who determined the style of piercings or tattoos, Rithi let us create our own. I loved the plant growing over my body, blossoming with the pink flowers of the bower vine.

Katriana loved bower vines. She’d cultivated them to grow up a trellis to her bedroom window. When I had to design my tattoo, her smiling delight had inspired me to adorn my body in them. She’d gasped the first time she saw it, her finger tracing over my breast in innocent delight, something pure and sisterly.

Not the way our brother touched me last night.

My hand brushed the ruby amulet Sven gave me last night, the treasure plucked from the slaver’s tent. I’d never seen a ruby so large before, the size of a hen’s egg. It swung from a gold chain between my breasts, the faceted faces catching the morning light. I should sell it.

But Sven gave it to me. I smiled.

After tracing the vines around my left breast, I moved to the other tattoos on my body, the ones I gained as I mastered the arts. I had to excel at three to leave behind my acolyteship and enter the priesthood as a full Radiant. The vines entwining my right arm represented my skill at painting. I closed my eyes, missing the feel of a brush in hand, a piece of canvas before me. Katriana’s smiling face appeared in my mind, my mother and father holding her. The urge to paint her had built and built over the last year.

But fugitives did not have the time to spend in one place working on an oil painting. The best I could do was sketch her in charcoal.

And my sketchpad lay in the tent.

Zanyia moaned louder, Ava’s smaller gasps echoing.

The vines that grew up my left leg and spilled over my hip represented my mastery of dance, of moving my body to music, expressing all my desires through the undulation and gyration of my form. My finger followed the end of the vine as it crossed my hip. Then I crossed a few inches of bare skin to my last tattoo, the flowering vines sprouting from my pubic mound, reaching towards my pussy lips.

My mastery of the sexual art.

Since I believed I never could have my brother, I threw myself into pleasures to try to forget him. I took any lover I could, male or female, learning the horizontal dance. I mastered it with the same passion as the vertical. But it never made me feel complete once the pleasure died.

Not like this morning.

Zanyia mewled out her orgasm. I shuddered. My finger reaching the wet lips of my pussy, caressing up and down my shaved folds. I wanted to go in there and join them, to show the princess that I loved Sven, too.

My finger nudged my clit. I shivered. And then the passion died. I crept forward, feet padding on soft grass. I pulled back the flap of the tent. Zanyia straddled my brother’s chest still, her tail swishing as she squirmed her ass. Ava’s proxy sat motionless in the catgirl’s hand.

I could enter.

“You ran,” Sven smirked as I crawled in. “Embarrassed?”

I flushed. “I didn’t want to ruin things with you and Ava. We need her.” Anger flared in me, burning hot, fueled by the image of Katriana and our parents choking in the fire, the flames devouring their flesh. “We can’t let her know about us. She won’t understand.”

“I think she would,” Zanyia said, ears twitching above her tawny hair. “I like her.”

“You do?” I asked, hugging the lamia from behind, rubbing my round breasts in to her back. Her tail swished between my thighs. When it brushed the lips of my pussy, Zanyia squirmed and, deliberately, rubbed the bristling hairs against my snatch.

“Yes,” she said while I moaned, savoring the feel of her cat-like tail caressing my pussy lips. Stiff hairs brushed my clit, sending sparks through me. “She’s a very sweet girl. The type of girl who needs to be rescued. And Master likes doing that.”

“Mmm, he does,” I said, my body shuddering. My hands slid down the catgirl’s stomach to her trimmed bush, feeling her pubic hairs. A hunger swept through me to be utterly wanton. With Zanyia, I didn’t have to hide my desires for my brother.

We’d only known the lamia a scant few hours, maybe half a day, and yet her infectious presence made it feel so natural for her to be with us.

“He rescued me,” purred Zanyia, her tail rubbing hard at my pussy. Such a tease.

I tightened my arms around her. She squealed as I hauled her off Sven’s cock. My brother groaned, his dick sliding out of the lamia’s tight pussy. I wrestled the squirming catgirl to the bedding beside my brother, laying her out on her back. I nestled between her thighs, stroking her silky flesh. My tits and the amulet dangled beneath me as I leaned over.

“Are you hungry, Mistress?” Zanyia asked as I lifted her legs and threw them over my shoulders, my head nearing her pussy.

“I am,” I grinned. “For something naughty.”

“Creampie?”

I’d never heard the term before, but I understood what she meant. Eating that wonderful filling my brother pumped into her pussy, that delicious cream. I salivated as I leaned my head down, my blonde hair brushing her thighs before I pressed my lips into her tawny bush matted with combined juices.

“She’s always ravenous when she wakes up,” Sven said, grinning at me as I licked his jizz out of the lamia’s pussy.

“I can tell,” moaned Zanyia, her small breasts jiggling as she shuddered. Ears twitched and her tongue licked across her pink lips before flashing a toothy grin. “Ooh, Mistress, yes, eat the creampie Master and I made for you.”

“So yummy,” I groaned, savoring the combined mix of my brother’s spunk and her sweet pussy.

My ass wiggled as I knelt their, my pussy cream dribbling down my thighs. I swiped my tongue over and over through her folds, her juices staining my lips and cheeks. My tongue gathered salty cum out of her depths. My brother’s incestuous seed.

Wicked shivers ran through me.

I loved it. This wonderful delight of feasting on her pussy full of my brother’s cum. His eyes watching, grinning with all his roguish charm. He ran a hand down his muscular torso to his cock thrusting from his sandy-blond pubic hair. He stroked his shaft, glistening with the very pussy I devoured.

“Look at you go, sister dear, just feasting like it’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten.”

“Maybe it is, brother mine,” I answered, giving him a wink.

His grin grew. I literally watched his ego, already enormous, swelling larger. He loved it when women fanned it, submitting to his lusts, aching for his cock and his cum. Lucky for him, he had a cock women ached for and such delicious jizz. He never lacked for companionship.

I always ached to join him in bed with one of his conquests. Ava experienced that delight. He’d bring back so many women to her bed, fucking them both, making the princess and whatever doxy caught his eye that night scream their heads off.

And now it was my turn.

“Look at that ass shake, sister dear,” he groaned, rising. “Just so wanton. You got a hot cunt, don’t you?”

“I had to listen to you and Ava and Zanyia ‘talking’ in here,” I groaned, lifting my face, smeared in pussy cream and cum.