Queen Yavara Ch. 28

"Ranger Straltaira -or should I say, Ambassador Straltaira." Father said to Elena, "The last time I saw you, you were quite a bit less tan."

Elena smiled. "The last time I saw you, you were quite a bit less bald."

Father laughed cheerily, something that sounded wrong coming from him. "It's funny how everyone tells you what they really think the moment they take the crown off your head."

"Was it glued to your hair?"

Father chortled. "When I'd heard that Elena Straltaira was the new star of the Noble Court, I couldn't believe it! Little Elena? The timid girl whose social circle was actually just a line?"

"Kind of like the Tiadoa family tree." Elena mumbled.

"What was that?" Father asked, digging at his ear.

"Why have you come to see me, Father?" I asked, quickly changing the subject.

"I heard the battle at The Tundra had not gone well." Father said, "I thought you might need my counsel."

"Your counsel is always appreciated."

Father glanced at Elena. "I was hoping to speak with you in private."

Of course. "Ambassador Straltaira, if you please..." I said, pointing to the door. Elena got up and walked out, taking a moment to look back at us with a raised eyebrow before leaving.

"You've been avoiding me." Father said.

"I'm very busy, Father, you know that. I'm not mindfully avoiding you; I'm just distracted."

"Being a ruler is a consuming role, but you must not neglect the needs of those you love."

"Needs." I laughed, "Am I your daughter, or your whore?"

"You used to be my lover."

"You used to be worth loving." I snapped.

Father's face fell, and I didn't feel even the smallest pang of guilt. "You bear my son." He whispered.

I placed my hand across my flat belly. "Not anymore."

His lower lip trembled, his eyes bulged. "You didn't..."

"No. I was at Castle Thorum when Yavara attacked it, and I was wounded. I didn't know the cost until I bled two days ago."

"Yavara." Father muttered, a single tear trailing his weathered cheek, "She is god's punishment for my sins!"

"God?" I almost laughed, "God? Did you not once tell me religion was the cane the king used to shepherd fools and drunkards?" I waved derisively at him, "But of course you've found God."

"You'll understand when you're old. Seeing the end coming changes the way you think."

"Then why wait for it, old man? Run with what strength you have left to meet your god."

"You don't mean what you're saying." He put his hand on my shoulder. "You're in great pain, and you've had no one to share the burden. It is why you unload it all on me now." He brought me into a weak embrace, "Can't you see what this isolation has done to you? You need to be with those you love."

His touch was revolting. My skin crawled to feel his withered fingers against me, his frail back bowing to wrap his bony appendages about me. I felt his hard cock against my hip, and the way he rubbed it against me. I pried his arms from me, and pushed him away.

"Leveria..." He croaked.

"You used to be magnificent." I hissed. Now there were tears in my eyes, "You used to command a room by simply walking into it. Your mere shadow used to bow even the boldest shoulders, and your whisper would silence even the loudest of mouths. I used to be in awe of you."

"Don't say that." He shivered despite his wool cloak, his face bunching together in a grotesque display of grief.

"I destroyed you." I felt the tears splash warmly upon my cheeks, "I loved you with an avarice, and I stole from you with my love, and when you finally gave me everything, I realized I didn't want it. It was the taking that I loved, and now there's nothing left of you to take."

"Don't!" Father moaned, holding himself on the chair, "Don't say that!"

"Why did you come here, Father?" I whispered, stepping toward him, "What did you hope to find? Do you not know me after all these years?"

He collapsed in the chair, weeping into his sleeve. "You're all I have left!" He blubbered, "Don't leave me alone!"

I stared down at the creature before me, the broken thing I had once loved with such jealousy that it drove me to kill my own mother. I pitied him, and for that, I hated him, this shell that mocked the love I once I had, this masquerade of a memory.

"Take off your pants," I commanded softly, "now."

He looked up from his sleeve, confusion in his eyes. "What?"

"I won't repeat myself." I hissed, sliding my pale, thick legs out from the slits on the sides of my dress. I loomed over my father, raised a naked leg, and pressed the stiletto heel of my shoe into his groin. He cried out, and I sneered, feeling the heat in my nethers, the saturation of terrible lust begotten by my desire to dominate. "You used to be such a domineering man," I growled, pushing my heel harder, "you used to just take me whether I wanted it or not; you didn't ask."

"Leveria," Father gasped, "stop!"

"Stop?" I laughed cruelly, "Stop? Is that all you can say? If I had done this to you but a month ago, you would have made me sit on this heel. Now you weep and beg like a blubbering old wretch!"

"Leveria! Please!" His face became purple.

"I'll give you what you want, Daddy." I twisted my heel, "I'll give you what you came here for, but you're not going to like how I give it to you."

I raised my foot from his crotch, and planted it firmly next to his face. He gasped in relief, his face lightening as he exhaled. I leaned forward, looming over him so that my breasts nearly spilled from my bodice, and the right-angled slip of my legs caused the dress to expose them to the hips. The silk fabric draped between the alluring swell of my bared thighs like a curtain ready to be lifted.

"Well, Daddy," I smirked down at the pathetic, old man, "come get what you came here for."

Daddy nervously dipped his head beneath the hanging fabric of my dress. I felt his trepid fingers open my slit, and his subservient tongue slide between my petals to lather my froth. I groaned hedonistically, pressing him deeper with both hands atop his head, leaning into it until my soft belly rested upon my knuckles.

"That's it, Daddy," I sighed pleasurably, "eat your baby's cunt." I brought my other foot onto the chair, and climbed it with my father's head planted to my crotch, bringing him upward until I swung both legs over the chair's back, and made a precarious seat of his face. I leaned forward, putting all my weight onto him, dangling my bare legs over the back of the chair and squeezing my thighs together. He dutifully continued his consumption, his lips parting around my opening to suck gently from the folds as his tongue moved inside me to taste the spot within. I tilted my head back and moaned to the ceiling, pressing my pubis downward, knitting my fingers together behind his head to force his face into me. His tongue worked harder, and my thighs squeezed tighter, trapping his face in place. As breathing became a chore for him, his mouth moved with a fervency, his dexterous little tongue writhing against my ceiling, frantically attacking that soft spot that drove me crazy. I gasped in delight, shifting forward until my legs dangled straight-legged from the chair's back, forcing my father's head over the edge of it.

"More!" I cried. He complied, holding me aloft with two hands sinking their grip into the fat of my ass, his chin grazing my anus as he burrowed his muzzle deeper.

"Daddy," I panted, my dress darkening with sweat, "make me come!"

I undulated atop him, my hips grinding as though I bestrode his lap, my petals flushed from his lips, my clit swollen with arousal. My knuckles were white with tension, the tendons in my hands standing high in an effort to bring him closer to me. He relentlessly attacked the spot within me, knowing it so well after all these years, his tongue moving in practiced patterns, each pass ratcheting the sensations. A deep pleasure ached within me, throbbing and pulsing, building and ballooning. I grinded with deep passes, rocking his head back and forth atop the chair, making love to the face planted between my trembling thighs. "Daddy! " I cried, my voice quaking with pleasure, my breaths rapid and desperate. I held him fast against me, his nose squishing into the delicate folds of my secreting lust, his mouth filling with my dripping pleasure. The ecstatic quaking in my nethers took over my body, and I arched my back as the feeling crawled up my spine. At the precipice of sensation, when I was erupting from within, I pulled back the skirt that draped over my father's face, and stared rapturously into his eyes. "Daddy." I mouthed, and lurched forward. The full weight of my body wrenched his head backward over the chair, and snapped his neck with a sickening crack.

The blood that coursed through me was an inferno. The heartbeats in my chest were thunder. I could hear minute sounds in crystal clarity. I'd finally done it; I'd murdered with my own hands, and the feeling was like no other. I existed in a level of awareness that was so visceral it was like being awake for the first time. Had I ever noticed the way my hair stood on end? Had I ever noticed the heat of my breath in my nostrils? Had I ever noticed the vibrancy of color that solidified before my eyes? I wanted to exist in that moment forever, but the adrenaline subsided, and the high faded. I sighed, and looked at the man I'd once loved. He was just a corpse now, though if I was honest, he'd been little more than that for a while. I pulled his pants up and cleaned myself off his face. I closed his dead eyes dispassionately, their familiar gaze meaning nothing to me anymore. I adjusted myself in the mirror, and then dragged the body to a nearby table. I pushed a vase off the edge of the table, and screamed.

The guard burst in with his hand on his hilt, Elena rushing behind him.

"Help him!" I shrieked, crocodile tears streaming down my cheeks.

"What happened?!" Elena yelled.

"I don't know..." I sobbed, "One moment he was... and the next... his heart..."

Elena rushed to my father's corpse and placed her hand on his pulse. She closed her eyes and counted silently, then lifted his head to listen for breaths. She paused with her hand on the back of his head, then turned to the guard.

"He has passed." She said gravely, "Sir Raftas, please get Sir Bortan and take the king reagent to the parlor. Make certain that no one knows of this until the queen can address it with dignity. She is too distraught to now."

The two guards carefully picked my father up between them, and left. When their footsteps had dissipated, Elena turned to me. There was fear in her eyes, fear like I hadn't seen since I first stepped into her cell at Castle Thorum. But this time, it didn't excite me. "His neck was broken." She said cautiously, "Why, Leveria?"

I swallowed. "He was a threat."

"Everyone is a threat to you."

"But he had nothing left to give me."

She narrowed her eyes. "Because you took everything."

"Yes." I whispered.

Elena averted her gaze from mine, and stared out the window. The dusk was beginning to fall on this day, the last day of Highland greatness. I knew it was so. There were moments in history that scholars salivated over, cataclysmic moments with a clear before and after. When some historian a hundred years from now wrote 'The Rise and Fall of the Highland Kingdom,' he would mark this day as the apex. I would be remembered as the monarch who started the fall, and the man I killed would be remembered as the last of a golden era. I didn't care. In that moment, nothing mattered to me more than the look on Elena's face.

"I wonder," She finally said, "how long until I have nothing left to give you."

"I don't want to take from you, Elena." My throat caught. "I want to give... I want to give you everything, but you won't have it."

I brought my hand to her shoulder, and she recoiled. "Don't touch me!" She hissed.

I withdrew like her flesh had burned me, covering the offending hand like it had acted on its own accord, and I was not to blame. She hunched where she knelt, watching me with a caged animal's tension. Cautiously, I shifted an inch toward her on my knees, my hands folded before me, trying to be as unthreatening as I could.

"You don't have to be afraid of me." I said softly.

"I don't?" She laughed horribly, "Don't you know I've lived in terror ever since you dragged me here?!"

"You dragged me here, actually." I whispered, shifting an inch closer, "And I've lived in a terror just as great."

"What do you know of it?!" She snapped.

"Nothing at all." I swallowed, "I can't speak to your fear, only my own." I shuffled another inch.

"Stay away from me!" Elena growled, brandishing a knife with such speed that I didn't see it until the point was against my chest. But it was the sharpness of her words that stabbed me, and they bored into my heart with a pain so acute that I did not fear the blade.

"When I thought you would kill yourself, I was terrified." I whispered, grasping the blade with both hands, "When I saw the missile coming for you, I was terrified. When you came for me that night, I was terrified. When you first kissed me, I was terrified. Being with you is like dancing on a knife's edge, but when you're gone, I long for that terror so much that it aches. What do you call that feeling?" I shuffled another inch, and the blade broke my flesh.

Elena's hand shook. Her eyes glimmered. She closed them as though in defiance of the tears that were there, and one pathed her cheek in a glorious arc. "I hate you." She hissed, staring at me from burning slit eyes, "I hate you with everything I am."

"I love you." I barely said it. It came from me in a breath, and if I could've, I would've sucked it back in and never let it leave my lips.

Elena gaped at me. "What?" She gasped.

I swallowed, and whispered it this time. "I love you."

"Don't say that!" She growled.

"I love you." I rasped, opening my hands around the knife, letting the point press into me.

"Please don't say that!" She hissed, begging me with tears streaming down her cheeks, her lip trembling. So beautiful she was, so beautiful when she was in pain. The most beautiful thing in the world.

"I love you, Elena Straltaira." I said clearly, my voice tremulous with that terror, that sweet terror that I finally labelled truly. Love.

Elena cried out in anguish, and plunged the knife into the floor. She buried her face in her hands, and wept. I dared not touch her, dared not try to impose on such a perfect crisis. Then she grabbed my face and pressed our mouths together, forcing her tongue inside, wrapping our lips in a fevered consumption. Her fists balled in my hair, and mine did the same to hers, pulling and tearing, compelled by some indescribable desperation. Our faces wetted with each other's tears, our noses inhaled frantically beside one another, and our hands moved from our blonde manes to tear our clothes asunder. My milky breasts jiggled with a ferocious rip of my bodice, and her fingers sunk hungrily into their meat, her thumbs pressing into the pert nipples until they stung deep into my glands. I fumbled with the buttons of her dress and then gave up, and ripped it from the seams. She pushed hard against me, her throbbing cock pressing to my nethers, the heat of her teasing the aching desire within me, my ravenous lips dripping with readiness. She pushed inside, and I cried out into her mouth, the back of my head pressing into the floor, my body arching with her atop it, so great was my joy to feel her inside me. We broke from our kiss in a cacophony of gasps, her wild face hovering over mine as she delivered thrust after thrust, each one stretching me open for the next, each one flattening my ass against the floor, pinning me down so that I had to feel every delicious inch of her.

"Oh god, fuck me, Elena!" I cried. She growled and took a nipple into her mouth, sucking fiercely until the node was swollen and filled with sensation, her teeth pulling on it, her muzzle creating a shallow about its pressing indentation. I moaned to feel her possession of me, drawing my hands through her hair to encourage of nursing, instincts of perverse maternity beckoning me. Her azure gaze softened as I sung my sweet melody into her ear, massaging her scalp with tender fingers, opening my legs to receive the wanton abuse of her hips. She decelerated into slow, meaningful drives, making me feel all she had to give. My body was a bridge from tailbone to atlas, bowed to support and receive her, and she created a bridge of her own atop it, her arms pressing herself upright so that she could slide against my body with sensual passes, our forms slick with the sweat of our desire. My brows knitted, and my voice sung a mournful, low tone as I felt her cock penetrate me with purposeful motions, her girth pressing every surface of me, her tip opening my ovule to taste the honey within. My glistening soft pussy lips folded inward with her advance, and gripped her greedily as she pulled out, stretching and outturning like rose petals about her exiting pole. She ceased her feeding, and left my nipple wet and rosy, her tongue teasing it before slipping back into her beautiful mouth.

She slid under my ass and spun us until I was on top, my thick thighs straddling her, my ravaged dress falling to my hips. I growled around an animalistic smile, filling my hands with her golden breasts, relishing the opportunity to show her what I could give. I began to grind my hips in deep, circular passes, my belly flexing in shadows below my bouncing breasts, my back arched to keep my weight centered on our joining. I stirred myself with her cock, ruining the swollen petals that gripped her, feeling her throb and pulse with every clench of my feminine muscles.

"Do you like that?" I gasped between moans.

"Yes!" Elena cried out, "Don't stop!"

I smiled and kept my pace, my hips undulating behind me, my breasts pressed together between my arms as I squeezed Elena's. The succulent fat protruded between my fingers, the pink nipples that contrasted her bronze globes standing erect and swollen, leaking white nectar that pooled in a rim about the darker areola. Her head pressed to the floor and tilted back, a strained cry singing from her throat. I giggled at her lustful response, watching her bronze body bend and flex in reaction to my movements. She filled her hands with my ass, her fingers disappearing in the supple meat, the tips of both middle fingers teasing the very edge of my anus as she pried my cheeks apart. I gasped lightly, a sound coming from slightly parted pink lips below half-lidded eyes, born from a face relaxed in the splendor of such easy love making. The roll of my hips became an exaggeration of motion, a gluttonous indulgence of the cock that stirred my tender channel with tortuous repetition, savoring every bit of it. I eased down upon her, relaxing my soft belly into the curve of her muscular abdomen, squishing our busts together so that our nipples stabbed into each other. I breathed upon her lips with easy exhalations, each one sliding from me with a moan of pure delight. She thrusted with me then, gentle, purposeful motions that matched the languorous grind of my hips, piercing me as my pelvis met hers, the impact reverberating in our depths, sounding the sweet ache of our growing pleasure. She slid one of her hands up my back and held me to her between the shoulder, and with the other, she pushed her middle and index finger all the way into my ass. I groaned delectably into her mouth, feeling my tight rim expand, then close around each of her knuckles, sucking her in, hugging the bottom of her fingers like my pussy gripping her shaft. Her fingers kneaded my delicate rectal flesh, massaging the underside of her shaft with the vile flesh of my division. I sobbed onto her breast, overtaken by the gentle violation, succumbing so easily to her prowess.