Queen Yavara Ch. 09

"Yes Leveria, you're qualities. A ruler does not need the love of her subjects. You can rest assured that many people will wish Yavara was their queen once you are coronated. But through your cunning and tact, you will make their lives better day by day. Eventually they will grow comfortable under your rule, and with a few calculated displays of power and grandeur, they will learn to love you."

"That's not a very romantic picture." I frowned.

"Neither of us are romantics, Leveria." Father said. His hand moved to my hip, "Do you want to know a secret?"

"Yes." I whispered as his hand slid between my thighs.

"I don't love your mother. I never have. Trenaria Ternias was simply the daughter of Hendran Ternias, and his family's power was second only to mine, so I married her. When you are of age, you will marry someone you do not love. But you will be like me, and not like your mother, and not like who Yavara will become." My thighs grinded together around his wrist, and a moan escaped me as his fingers slipped inside. "No, Leveria," Father whispered, "you will be the one in control. There is no greater feeling in the world than being the one who wields power. You lust after it, your sister will lust for it, but only you will own it." My moans turned to gentle cries as Father's hands manipulated me further. My head rolled on to his shoulder and my mouth fell agape, my eyes staring surrender into his. "That's what sex is, Leveria, power." Father growled, "It's control. You're reacting without your permission. I'm making you feel good despite yourself. And you do it to me too. You made me fuck you, because it made you feel powerful to do it. Does my power feel good, Leveria?"

"Yes!" I gasped.

My legs spread for his invading fingers, and I pulled up my nightgown, exposing my naked adolescence to him; smooth flesh and blushing pussy lips, my nipples standing red and pert upon my heaving breasts. His lips wrapped around one node, sucking deliciously and pulling my breast outward. I wrapped my hands together around his head and arched my back, his defiling fingers triggering me to squirm in pleasure.

I rolled on top of Daddy and squatted down on his cock, taking him as whimpers turned to needful whines. Regaining my composure, I straddled across his pelvis and gyrated up and down, forward and back, my moans echoing through the room as his cock stretched me. I grinded my pelvis downward, rubbing my clit against him in harmony with his thrusts. He ran his hands under my night gown and gripped my breasts tightly, fingers lost in the succulence. I pulled my pink gown off over my shoulders, exposing the prizes his hands held. I took control of the sex, dictating the speed and force. I knew he wanted it hard and rough, so that's what I gave him. I wanted it hard and rough too. I wanted him to need me more than anything, more than Yavara and more than Mother. He blasted his pelvis against me as I grinded against him with equal ferocity, the slapping of our flesh growing louder, the animalistic sounds of our mouths becoming more savage. My asscheeks clapped in fervent applause, wafting the pungent smell of sex into the air. I spread my legs into lateral splits, opening myself so that he could rail unheeded into my tight heat.

"Does Mommy ever do these things?" I moaned.

"Don't talk about your mother!" He growled as he wrapped a hand around my throat.

"I bet she just lays there and takes it, doesn't she?" I squeaked out defiantly, my arousal only increasing.

"I said don't talk about your mother!" Daddy slapped me hard across the face. I touched my hand to the stricken cheek, feeling a flush of newfound desire between my battered thighs. It seemed there was still something Daddy hadn't given to me.

"I bet you Mommy doesn't fuck you like this." I grinned as I gyrated aggressively on top of him, my body a passionate wave from pubis to shoulders, my belly flexing and stretching. Daddy moaned involuntarily, driving with abandon into my clenching insides, breaching through my tightness to find the tender depths within. Through my haze of pleasure, my unfocused eyes rested on his parted lips. It hadn't been lost on me that during our month of lust, Daddy had never kissed me. It was the last piece of intimacy he kept for Mother. Maybe it was the last shred of dignity he had left in him. He'd fuck his daughter, but he wouldn't love her as a woman. It was time to change that.

I leaned forward, my tongue poking between parted lips. My face was met with his palm, the smell of my pussy still fresh on his fingers. I giggled. You can't hold out forever, Daddy. I licked his hand seductively, tickling the lines of his palm, promising what was in store for him if he just gave in. He pushed harder against my face, my body wrenching backward, my spine curving painfully as he continued to pump relentlessly between my split legs. I sustained the motion of my hips despite his physical protest, stirring his cock about my tight lips, feeling him press along every surface of my innards. I heard him groan again, I felt him succumb to the lassitude of my lust. I pulled his hand away from my face, staring promisingly into his stricken eyes.

"I bet Mommy never let you fuck her in the ass." I whispered, my mouth panting my excitement. Daddy's defenses faltered. I got him. "Do you want to fuck your daughter in the ass, Daddy?" I asked as my hands traced up his chest. I leaned in, my breasts pressing against him, my legs still spread in the splits. I brought my face inches from his own. "I don't think I'd like it; I heard it hurts. Do you want to hurt me?" I asked innocently, running my fingers through his hair. "I'll let you hurt me, Daddy," I whispered, "I'll let you break my little asshole open. I just want you to do one thing in return. I want you to kiss me like you kiss Mommy. I want you to kiss me like you kissed her back when you still had the passion to care. If you do that for me Daddy, I'll let you fuck my tight, little, asshole."

The conflict was etched across my father's face. I needed something to push him over the edge. I pulled myself off him, his hard cock slipping from me. I ached to have him back inside, and nearly whined with the regret of it, but I held fast. This was a power move, and I had heeded my father's advice. But my god, it was difficult. Even as I watched him, my hips shifted with unfulfilled want, and my thighs rubbed wetly, craving what was no longer between them. My father's lip twitched. He moved his head forward. I win.

I pushed my lips against him, tasting his breath, feeling my heart race. I'd never been kissed before, and wasn't exactly sure how to go about initiating it. Father slid his tongue between my lips and teased my own. I extended my tongue to him and shyly probed his. He curled over me, wetly entangling our members, tickling the excited nerves there. I had to suppress a giggle, and curved my lips against his, my heart lightening in my chest. Daddy's kissing me! Our lips sucked gently against as our tongues engaged in a lustful dance, wriggling and exploring, a language unto its own. I felt closer to him than I'd ever felt before. I felt the love, yes, and I felt the power. For I'd stolen the last piece of him from my mother, and maybe the last piece of himself.

I moaned regretfully when he pulled from the kiss, my lips searching blindly for his. When I opened my eyes, I saw a face that was wild with hatred. "A promise is a promise, Leveria." He hissed, "Get on your knees."

I got off the bed and bent over against the bed frame, my hands gripping the bars tightly as I braced myself. Daddy came up from behind me and kicked one of my legs to the side, parting my thighs. He gripped my cheeks and spread me open. I heard him spit, then I felt the glob splatter on my tailbone, drool between my cheeks, and pool about my puckered rim. I shuddered. I'd prepared for beforehand for all other escapades with my father, but I was improvising, and the lack of control terrified me. My body trembled as I braced for his intrusion. Leveria, what the fuck were you thinking?! His tip pressed against me. I stiffened. He pushed forward, applying more and more pressure, dilating my last virgin orifice until my pelvic floor was indenting with tension. I gritted my teeth, hissing and closing my eyes, my knuckles white against the bars I grasped for dear life. He broke through. A screech erupted from my lips, my pitch rising as I felt him tear through every resistance of my rectum. My knees buckled, my heels gave way, my straightened legs slid pathetically to the sides as his pelvis pressed against my ass. He was all the way in, his terrible hardness opening what was not meant to be opened, touching what was not meant to be touched. I held myself limply against the bars while he retreated from me, praying that he hated the feeling almost as much as I did. But that was not the case. He held my cheeks spread and rammed his length into me harder than before. I choked out another cry, certain that my insides were tearing.

"This is what you wanted, isn't Leveria?!" Daddy yelled as he thrust again, "You wanted me to hurt you, didn't you?!"

"Stop Daddy, please stop!" I cried.

"The first lesson in diplomacy," Father grunted as he pushed in again, forcing my upper body to press against the bars of my bed, my breasts squishing between them, "Is to always keep your word, and never back down from a promise. Your word is your most powerful weapon, and if it's found to be hollow, it will mean nothing."

"I'm sorry I made you kiss me Daddy! Just stop!" I squealed pathetically.

Daddy drove in again, heedless of my pleas. "The second lesson in diplomacy," Father gritted as he withdrew, "is always know your place in the hierarchy. It seems you haven't learned that one yet."

"I know my place! I'll never challenge you again! Daddy stop, it hurts! It hurts!" My screams were frantic in terror and pain.

Father pushed in again, my face now pressed painfully against the bars. "And the third and final lesson of tonight, is that accepting the consequence of your decisions can be painful, but it is NECESSARY-" Father roared as he thrust in again, "-to learn from the mistakes you have made. What have you learned tonight Leveria?"

"Keep my word, know my place, and learn from my mistakes!" I cried in agony.

"You're just repeating what I said." Father taunted as he pushed into me faster and faster. My glutes shook violently with every thrust, the skin growing red against his pelvis. I frantically searched my mind for the answer to his question, but my train of thought was interrupted by shocks of pain.

"You're nothing but a sadistic old man who fucks his daughter! You're trash!" I screamed angrily as tears streaked down my face.

"And you're nothing but a little slut," Father said, slapping my ass, "who begs for her father's cock because she's jealous of her sister."

"You can't get any from Mom, so you come over and fuck your daughter! You're a sick piece of shit!" I screamed between the bars as my face was pressed into my bedframe.

"I am, Leveria," Father said solemnly, "but I'm not nearly as twisted as you are. Now what have you learned?"

"I fucking hate you!" I sobbed, the pain so excruciating I was thrashing, my hips writhing at the apex of my bridged legs. His strong arms subdued me, locking my pelvis in a bent position, exaggerating the obtuse angle of spine to press my torso completely against the bedframe.

"What have you learned, Leveria?!" Father roared, his thrusts growing more powerful. In and out, in and out; he was brutally repetitive, grinding over the flesh he'd already rendered raw, piercing my most vile depths. The pain overwhelmed me, my resistances fell, and I surrendered wholly to my agony. Through the dissipating red haze, I found an odd peace, and in that, I found my faculties.

Keep my word, know my place, and learn from my mistakes. What is the connection here? I started to feel a tingling sensation in my defiled rim. It sounds like the answer might be 'duty,' but father never preached compliance before. My tight walls clung tenderly around him, smooth and fluttering with dull sensation. I suppose the answer isn't 'honor.' A deep pleasure began to rise from my nethers. Maybe it's 'discipline?' My screeches of pain had subsided. Could it be 'observance?' The pleasure blossomed within me, alien and perverse, terrible like our love. Through a place where no delight should ever be begotten, I found joy. Maybe it's... uhhh... My thoughts ebbed and flowed, dulling against the sharpness of my ecstasy. For it was ecstasy now, as assuredly as it had been agony before. My pussy began to flow with new arousal, coerced to salivate from the wrong side. My sphincter relaxed to welcome the intrusion, my walls greedily consuming every inch they could, my moans beginning to ascend to lecherous cries.

"Do you like your daddy's cock in your ass?" Father ridiculed.

"Yes." I whimpered.

"I can't hear you, Leveria!"

"Yes!" I cried as my bedframe shook with the power of my father's thrusts, "Yes Daddy! Keep fucking my little shithole!"

I gritted my teeth against the waves that wracked my body, one after the other, each one worse than the last. My head fell backward, completing the exaggerated bow of my back, and I stared rapturously at the man who forced such awful delights so deep within, the man would had begotten me life, now ravaging my body and mind. I mouthed stupidly at him, the words lost to me, my lips only yielding dripping saliva as they hung agape. The waves were continuous now, no longer crashing within me, but building, building; a torrent of euphoria and pain, so sweet, so horribly sweet! It coursed through me, electrifying every nerve and neuron, sending me shrieking into insanity. My eyes widened, my knuckles cracked, my ass shot backward, and I buried his cock deep, deep within my filth. With a soundless gasp, I finally came. I pitched forward, pressing against the bedframe, my open mouth breathing against one brass bar, by tongue licking it. Father shook behind me, and with a final cathartic roar, he emptied himself into my bowels. His breath was on the back of my neck, lending air to the hair that plastered my scalp. He withdrew from me, and I felt a draft where I'd been left gaping. Such was my ruination, and such was my satisfaction. I fell to my knees, my legs sapped of strength, and I opened my mouth to worship at the altar of Father. I did it without thinking, and only came to the realization when I tasted the concoction of his cum and my anal tang. In my depraved mindset, it was delicious. I swallowed it and looked up at him thankfully, my lips parted and smiling, my hooped earrings dangling from my pointed ears. Father caressed my cheek.

"What have you learned, Leveria?" He asked.

"That I like it in the ass." I giggled.

"The lesson, Leveria," Father smiled down at me, "is that power comes only to those who are patient. And you my dear, are very impatient."

"Can you teach me another lesson tomorrow?" I whispered, sucking his thumb.

"Every night, Leveria." Father smiled.

Over the next two years, my father taught me all knew of statecraft. As my twentieth birthday came nearer, I began to worry that my impurity would lower my marital options. Father assured me that being the heir to the throne would surmount all other factors, including the elven custom of a virgin bride. My story would be simple: I was young, drunk, and foolish. Father and I had meticulously planned which match would best suit my political needs. The Noble Court consisted of ten great houses, each with legitimate blood ties to the throne: Ternias, Feltian, Xantian, Jonias, Feractian, Huntiata, Straltaira, Droughtius, Shordian and of course, Tiadoa. Since I already had Ternias blood in my veins by grace of my mother, we decided on Lord Eric Shordian, whose family was the sixth-richest of the lot, but had deep ties to the military, thereby ensuring the loyalty of the armed forces, and more importantly, preventing any chance of one of the other houses organizing a military coup. Oh, Eric was a good enough man; he was handsome and stupid, and his cock stood up straight when I needed it, but even he knew he was but a tool. Even so, he was useful one, for Eric was friendly and compassionate, and lent a congenial touch to our pairing that I could not bring myself. He was more than content with being the host of our royal parties while I played my power games in smoky back rooms. It was a loveless marriage, but a good one, though it hardly started out that way. For on my wedding day, the straps of my dress snapped, and the garment fell from my body, exposing my near-nakedness to the kingdom. It was embarrassing, but the lessons my father taught me allowed me to escape the awkward situation with dignity and grace. I suspected Yavara had sabotaged my straps, but I didn't have the proof to bring it forward. So, I let it fester on my mountain of hatred, and I bided my time. For Father had taught me patience.

Over the years, I laid down a foundation of alliances. I met with the right people, I made the right contacts, and I wove a web of resources from which I could draw from. I visited Father on a weekly basis, stealing a few hours of passion before we plotted my next move. Despite our continued relationship, I noticed him growing distant from me. For as Yavara aged, she took over the spotlight once again. She became more beautiful than any woman in the kingdom, and Father noticed her beauty. I grew jealous. One night I confronted him. He assured me that he didn't see Yavara in the same way he saw me. I didn't believe him. Using my contacts in the rangers, I set up a deal with an orc tribe of the Maples. Yavara was going on a hunting trip with her dyke friend, Elena. I didn't know until too late that Father had gone with her. A platoon of orcs ambushed them both, and for the first time in my life, I was glad Yavara was alive. She killed the attackers, and once again became the darling of the nation. Father praised and doted upon her like never before, and I, once again, became the supporting character in her story. I begrudgingly accepted my place, waiting for the day when I could convince Father to marry Yavara off to some abusive husband with enough wealth and titles to satisfy the crown.

And then she went missing. I could not hide my glee when I thought of the violations and torments she must've suffered in the Great Forest. Father was less than impressed with my mirth. I decided then that I would be the one to bring her in, and prove that my love for him was greater than my hatred for his daughter. I received the message from Elena that Zander Fredeon and Brock Terdini were holding her in Ardeni Dreus. I never liked the sway Zander Fredeon held in the Noble Court. Removing him before my reign began would be a nice bonus, and putting King Dreus in a political stranglehold would be even sweeter. I sent out an elite team to rescue my sister. That failed miserably, but from failure, came even greater opportunity. Not just the ruination of my traitorous sister, nor her fall from grace in my father's eyes, but the future of my realm. For what opportunity yields better fruits than war? The Great Forest, the long-uncivilized and untaxable vassal of the Highlands, would rise against its master. No monarch in a thousand years had dared invade the arborous Midlands, and indeed, the Noble Court would never sanction such a costly gamble. But now... now things were different. It wasn't the Great Forest anymore, but Alkandra. Destiny was in my grasp, and there was only one stupid, weak old bitch in my way.

"Don't listen to her, Clartias!" Mother hissed at Father, "She's trying to push us to war!"