They got out of the town with relative ease, working their way back through the grass, briefly passing by the spot where her father had... She didn't think about it long, but the tree had been moved and for the time being the snake was missing. Possibly because it was the evening and they were much more fond of the sun. But as they walked Laele seemed much more comfortable-- now that she wasn't aching, or in ill-fitting clothes, it was at least a little easier for her to keep up. She wasn't near her father's stature of course, but that didn't change that she was having it a bit easier as far as movement was concerned.
The first half of their walk was uneventful, but after a moment Laele kept stopping-- like she was seeing something out of the corner of her eye. It happened a few times, and then there was this smell-- oddly sweet. Like honey and sugar and flowers-- but the thing was, it seemed no one else could smell it. Like Laele may as well have been making it up, but she wasn't the kind of girl to do that. It was almost like she was enchanted by it, taking large sniffs and humming a little. Eventually, she moved ahead, following the scent as it made her toes and nose tingle. It was like eating sweets without eating them.
After a bit of a walk, they came upon a ring of mushrooms and flowers, wild yet somehow organized. The lot of them making a large circle, something odd about the way they all swayed in unison. As she approached there was a little glimmer, and she looked a little surprised, pointing at something unseen before walking forward, standing at the edge before she turned back, looking at him in delight. "Daddy-- there's music!"
And if he got close enough, he'd hear the music and chatter. And perhaps, if he listened close enough, someone mentioning a little fae spying on them.
It didn't take them long to gather their things and head out again into the forest. They didn't head back exactly the same way they'd come, but it was close: Richard frowned when he realized they were passing right by the fallen tree--now moved to the side of the road--and what it would mean to his daughter. He had told her the village would be "on their way," but it hadn't been, not really. Richard was always very careful to teach his daughter that she wouldn't get everything she wanted. But they passed it without comment, besides a slight blush playing on Laele's cheeks, and left without comment. Good enough.
Richard walked on, keeping a manageable pace so his shorter-statured daughter wouldn't lag too long behind. Her companion tagged along beside her, moving as a Slime did--confusingly. Whether she technically walked on her own two feet underneath the puddle she dissolved into near her toes or made use of some stranger mechanic, he couldn't quite tell. It wasn't something that took up too much of his concern. Not just because she was a monster, and therefore mostly beneath his curiosity, but because he had larger issues on his plate.
Namely, the forest around them. He barely noticed or cared that his daughter was peering here and there with a smile on her face, sniffing in like she could catch some far-off, pleasant scent; instead, his eyes were flicking left and right. He seemed more suspicious than anything, as if the trees themselves were trying to lead them into a trap. He guided his daughter along, first turning her slightly left, then farther right. More left. More right. Even doubling back at one point. None of it mattered even one bit. Richard glared at the trees to both of their sides, as if he was blaming them for their unchanging nature. How could one go in circles simply by walking forwards?
He stopped as his daughter did, right in front of the wild mushroom ring, the circle interspersed with wildflowers. He didn't bother retreating or running by: Richard knew they would just find themselves here once more. "Fairies," he ground out, clearly displeased. This was not the kind of monster he'd come to face.
The air in the circle seemed to shimmer invisibly, like a localized heat haze hung in the air. Richard glared at it too. All around them soft chatter and giggling became audible. In the trees, small creatures played and sang, but the loudest revelry and the sweetest smells came from the circle itself. Richard stood resigned with his lip curled up and his brow furrowed. He stared at the circle, knowing they had to enter but hating it.
And the Slime wobbled right in, vanishing from sight as she passed the boundary.
Laele watched the slime vanish into the circle, frowning a little bit at her eager nature. Perhaps Laele should try to give the little thing the same lessons she had been taught by her father on how to at least try to look around before jumping into things. Not that Laele was the best about it herself. But still better about it than the little Slime.
After a few seconds she took a deep breath and stepped over the ring, also vanishing from view like the slime had for Richard; though the otherside wasn't what she expected. Not right away anyway. What good would a gate be if anyone could walk through it with no trouble? None at all, of course. She could hear the chatter much louder, but all she saw was the Slime a few feet ahead staring at her. She was about to demand the other girl come out with her when suddenly her entire view was obscured by a pair of legs, and tables and-- fairies!
Her father had been right about it, not that she had any doubt about it to begin with. She trusted his knowledge about beasties and fae more than anyoen else, though she had to wonder why he knew so much-- or how. She'd never thought to ask, and maybe she would, if she remembered after whatever adventure they were about to be on. As it was she noticed a lot of the others staring at her; apparently they could see her long before she could see them. Her brows lifted a little, eyes widening.
Before her she saw many tables, all with people drinking and partying, they were all having a good time it seemed and she wasn't too scared. Until she saw the man on the throne, he was clearly important, being served food and drink by others and having a few fae dancers settled by his side. He seemed to be watching Laele and she was frozen on the spot. Only moving when she was gestured forward, though it took quite a bit of effort on her part, especially when she couldn't see the Slime anymore.
He reached down gently patting her head,something that made her shy away a little. Though he didn't seem offended over the small gasps and chatter, instead he gestured toward the edge of the ring, toward Richard and perhaps the slime; though she could only see her Father. "Are they with you little one?" Laele looked shocked at the question, and perhaps Richard would have admonished her honesty were he there, but as it was she didn't know any better.
"Of course, that's my Daddy." There was a little murmur around the crowd, but he just seemed to smile, leaning up as those long elk like horns shown against the many strung up lights of the party.
"I suppose we will have our first human in attendance, then." He waved a hand, the area didn't seem to change much for Laele, but the slime popped into view and Richard would feel some sort of warmth before the whole area came into view for him; the area looked like a caravan had settled there-- at least with the tables, lush huge sitting pillows, hanging fabrics and lights. There was food everywhere, and drink, and it seemed they were celebrating something quite special.
Richard frowned at the empty space the Slime had occupied, then turned his expression of displeasure towards the fleeting figure of his daughter. She ducked into the circle and similarly vanished from sight, eliciting a sigh and a grumble from the old knight. He hesitated, reaching for his sword... and then gave up. He took his hand away from the hilt and walked through himself--although he had to duck a little to fit through the tear in space.
It was the same forest he stepped out into, although it was filled with such a different scene that the similarity almost escaped the eye. Instead of an empty glade, the area was filled with different tables set up to seat as many as they possibly could--and even then some figures seemed to be leaning between chairs or even sitting on the tables themselves. Others still sat on pillows beneath satin-draped pillars or danced to foreign music. They didn't look so different from Humans, although each had something that set them apart: here, a blue-skinned girl with hair like fire. There, a shirtless man exposing a great deal of fur and fangs hidden among his teeth. Over there, a small child on all fours staring enraptured at the moon. Branches and wings grew from places they normally didn't, and normal colors were eschewed in favor of brighter and earthier shades. Richard didn't like it.
There was a man standing by his daughter, bare-chested and decorated with runic tattoos. His hair was white and branches grew from his forehead with red-colored leaves. He had an austere and all-knowing expression, and Richard found he didn't like him at all. Not the least because of his proximity. "Get away from my daughter," the knight growled, and tugged Laele back by her pretty pink coat. He stepped partially in front of her, placing his bulk between the thinner, more slender man. All the while the man--who must have been their leader, based on the way all the revelers looked to him--stared. He didn't take a step back or even flinch from the violent actions of the newcomer.
The two stared at each other, and the hush that had developed among the revelers grew dangerous. More than one bared their fangs at the man--just a Human! How dare he?--or aimed whatever they had at him, ready to impale the intruder on their talons or horns. But before anything could come of the confrontation, a pleasant laugh erupted from one of the nearby tables. A fairy, red-haired and pretty, kicked her legs in amusement as she ran a finger along the Slime's simulated hair. "What a charming creature these two have brought along!" she remarked, and smiled disarmingly at the three embroiled in their conflict. "Come now, everyone, shouldn't we be celebrating? This is a special night, after all!"
The revelers seemed to accept her distraction. They went back to their merry-making, some telling stories and some clapping for the dancers as they resumed. Richard looked away from the leader and glanced over at the party, just for a moment. Then he growled: "Why have you brought us here?"
"Brought you?" The man laughed, his voice tight briefly, before sounding amused-- almost taunting. His gaze slid over Richard, entertained by his anger as much as he ought to be offended. Lingering, however briefly, on the way that Laele was tugged back, placed half behind his leg. Her small hand grasped at him but she hid there-- she tried to be a good listener, even when she thought differently, she trusted him, and he seemed to not like this new person at all. Though Laele could swear he smelt like spun sugar or perhaps caramel. She wasn't sure, but something about him was unusual, in a way most humans had never been. "I did no such thing."
He waved a hand, letting it linger outward and in an instant, a drink was placed into his palm. a heavy-looking drink. It looked like wine but moved slower, much more viscous. "It seems you... Daughter--" The word was bit out, almost challengingly, "-- lead you here. Of course, our kind always seems to find it's way home." A puff of a laugh as he took a sip, resting casually despite his threatening posture. "I simply saw fit to invite you to the party, it would be a shame if you were left waiting, wouldn't it?" As if Laele wouldn't have come back for him-- no doubt she would. But she didn't say anything, instead hiding timidly behind him.
The slime however, seemed to really enjoy the touch, leaning into it. Though it seemed to love most any stimuli. It seemed to already be having a bit of fun, getting attention, though there was no missing the occasional glances toward Laele and Richard, waiting for the outcome of whatever was happening.
"So why not enjoy us, it's rare we let a human into our parties, and from what I've heard... Well, perhaps you'd owe us the kindness seeing as..." His gaze traveled over Richard's armor, inspecting him. "You have been hunting in my forest." A hushed little murmur, but he just took another drink. "We've come to celebrate the moon, have a drink."
Richard glowered silently at the fairy but didn't deny his statements. Of course he had led them there, hadn't he? Why else had the trees themselves forced them to this spot? But it did give him a moment of hesitation, the idea that Laele had been the one to lead them here. Hadn't he been guiding her along the path? Or had she... Richard resolved to ignore the idea. Around them the revelers peeked, laughing quiet laughs and sharing secret whispers. They seemed to enjoy seeing the trespasser put in his place.
He listened to it all and then at last, with gritted teeth, ground out a "thank you." It looked like the statement caused him physical pain, but he made it anyway. Perhaps a glimmer of a smile ghosted over the Fairy's face, but that could have been just a shadow cast by the many glimmering lights all around the party. "Excellent," crowed the woman who'd been stroking their Slime, who was now seated at one of the outer tables and happily reaching towards various interesting foods. "Then come, sit down! Enjoy the party. Everyone should be happy tonight!" she gestured towards a few empty chairs beside her, then lifted off from the table, borne into the air by slime gossamer wings.
Richard followed her instruction. "Be careful what you do and say," he ground out underneath his breath to his daughter. "Fairies are fickle and if you have to bow and scrape in order to convince them you're being properly respectful and having a good time, do it. Otherwise we might get out of here a hundred years later than we think--or never get out of here at all." Then they neared the table and Richard sat down, reaching for a mug already filled with dark red alcohol and for a piece of buttered bread that smelled strongly of honey.
The warning made her eyes go wide-- could they do that? Keep them there that long? She supposed so, if her father thought so, and she knew so little about Fae and magic she realized she had no idea the limits of what they could or couldn't do. She followed along toward the table, trying not to squirm under the gaze she could feel burning into her back, and instead sitting beside the slime who burbled in appreciation. Seeing the tension had left-- for the most part-- she instead took it upon herself to help Laele eat; and perhaps eating some herself, if one could call it that. It seemed simply that the slime wanted to enjoy the party with her, and Laele was easy to indulge her. It was easier when she had a friend there, quietly holding hands under the table as she explained each piece of food she understood, listing of their names and how much she did or didn't like it. Both eating a few squares of cheese happily, and Slime mimicking her sour expression at a strongly flavored dip. It was debatable if the slime could really taste it, but the girls were enjoying themselves anyway.
She kept sneaking glances around, she couldn't really help it. She didn't know much about the fae-- but she had always been curious. Her mother never mentioned them much, and of course, Richard didn't either, with the rare occasions that he desired to express his irritation with them. The church labeled anything like that as witchcraft and evil, but she didn't think they were. The Slime wasn't, many others they met weren't... And she was curious. Was she like them? She never really thought about it much before, but her magic had to come from somewhere?
She cast sneaky glances around, greeting those that came by, only ruffling slightly when her hair was ruffled and touched and she was pawed at here or there. Though they seemed to keep some kind of a distance, like they were waiting for something. She pushed another bread in her mouth, taking perhaps too long to leer a the woman from earlier as she rested herself against Richard's side. Laele, to some credit for her tiny backbone, makes an effort to completely ignore her as she spoke to her father. "Daddy-- are we relate--" but before she can finish a question he might not like to answer, the woman knocked over an ale, spilling it across Richard's lap and feigning embarrassment. She grabbed a towl, rubbing over his groin firmly.
Richard kept his eyes on her the whole time. After all, he was no stranger to the tales, which heavily featured disappearing children. Fairies loved stealing away little boys and girls. Why? He couldn't have said. Perhaps they needed them to swell their ranks--or perhaps they simply enjoyed seeing the distress they caused the parents of the missing children. Richard couldn't say, and frankly he didn't care. He just watched his daughter, making certain none of the eclectically-dressed figures would spirit her away.
The three sat down at the end of a table and began to eat, doing their best to fit into the strange, alien party. As they began to tuck in a few Fairies drifted by, brushing by the Slime and giving her curious looks--not as if they'd never seen something like her before, but more as if she was some kind of oddity that drew faint attention. No, the true treasure they had set their sights on was Laele. And as they came near her their excitement became obvious. Their eyes gleamed and their fingers reached out unbidden. They traced their hands through the little girl's hair, brushed her chin, patted her head, poked her here and there. Some might have gone further, perhaps, but without fail each newcomer was met with a growl and a threatening look from her father. Perhaps the king hadn't been cowed by his manner, but most of the others were.
He would have liked to tell his daughter not to eat anything, not to drink anything, but it was too late: the Slime had swallowed several bits already and Laele was eagerly following. Richard frowned thunderously and took a cursory sniff of his red-filled mug, but ignored it afterwards. And would have gone on ignoring it if it wasn't for the Fairy woman's "clumsy" swing of her arm: with a frustrated curse Richard went to stand up but was interrupted by her again. He stared at her with his dark, tugged-down eyebrows and made eye contact with her as she tried to wipe off his stained, wet pants. It would be a lie to say her touch didn't feel pleasant, but it could only distract him for a few seconds or so--and that was all it took.
Laele lifted from her seat in a whirl of colored leaves, her gravity leaving her temporarily as she floated, light as a feather, among the revelers. They cooed and called and cheered as she went, as if on a string, towards the Fairy King. She came to rest on his surprisingly soft lap and he let his hands come to rest on her shoulders. His voice was soft, floral, alluring. "And look at you, child. How many men have you seduced yet?"
The woman's apologies sounded as sincere as her expression looked, entertained by his anger and not at all worried. After all, he was outnumbered and on their turf. She just continued her touch, keeping him in place so he couldn't snatch Laele out of the air as she was being pulled away. The woman laughed a little, "I'm so sorry, I guess I was distracted by the look of you." She slid her palm over him, "Seems your still wet-- if you'd be so inclined I could get you a new pair if you'd take them off?" Her voice was a purr as her fingers crept along his lap, not so accidentally spilling her bust forward in her top, most of it threatening to fall out as she pushed into his space.
Laele, on the other hand, was looking around wildly, surprised to be plucked up off of her feet and into the air. Floating along, swallowing down a nervous little noise as he seemed to summon her with no approval of her own. She swallowed down the little piece of bread that was in her mouth as he lead her forward, squirming faintly as she was plopped down into his lap. Her eyes lifted a little as she stared up at the Fae King for a few long moments. Biting her lip she wasn't sure what to say, but he solved that for her, speaking up so easily. "Oh..." She glanced toward her Father, but currently he seemed to be getting smothered by the woman from before and so she stubbornly turned her head away in order to continue the conversation. She didn't want to see what was happening over there.
"Seduced?" She wrinkled her nose at the word, not really familiar with it. Folding her hands politely in her lap, intertwining the small digits as she tried to be a polite lady. Glad she had gotten new clothes so she didn't look like a mess. "I don't know what that means." A pause as she asked, too naive to know better, "You're really the king?"
His gaze flicked towards the woman and away, seemingly torn between focusing on the Fairy eagerly toweling off his lap and his daughter's new perch on the king's lap. Richard was clearly frustrated but surprisingly enough hadn't ripped his sword from its scabbard just yet. Some of the Fairies--by their giggling, quiet jokes and glances--seemed to be of the opinion that this was because Richard's groin was being toweled off with a great deal of attention by a very voluptuous lady. But although he did react, only a small bulge grew half-hard in his pants. His eyes flicked towards her increasingly exposed chest, then away: "I don't need your help. They'll dry themselves."
Over on his throne, the king smiled (perhaps benevolently?) as the little girl, clearly miffed, turned her head away. "Seduced," he said again. What was it about his voice? Something like silken honey. Something like a running brook, pleasant and relaxing. "That means making them excited, and then making them feel good. Because of who you are, it should come naturally to you." His soft hands slid along her shoulders, fitting neatly underneath her coat. They stroked her gently but began to squeeze ever so slightly.
Richard peered past the woman, or tried to: she was doing her level best to block him, both from moving towards the king and from seeing exactly what he was doing. It wouldn't have been so difficult if her gently swaying breasts hadn't been fighting for his attention--or if his little daughter hadn't been so steadfastly avoiding his attention. He tried to maneuver around her once, twice, acting unusually passive, but finally stopped still and growled at her. "Move. You're in my way."
"Oh come now, I'd be a poor host if I didn't help you..." She persisted firmly, as she tried to keep in his way, surprised he managed to resist the gentle sway of her breasts and her face. It was rare a man would look away, never mind try to push away from her a bit. She swallowed a little as she watched him, tugging her top down a little bit more, the barest hint of nipple visible; but he continued his progress of trying to find that little fae. She couldn't see what was so interesting anyway.
She couldn't stop watching him, it was like sweets-- and she got those so rarely. It felt nice on her tongue in a weird way, and warm in her chest, she leaned back and peered up at him. It made her feel comfortable in a way she didn't understand. She wanted to fight it, but she didn't know how, especially when he was touching her. Sensitive, soft skin warmed by contact as she shivered a little at his caress. She thought his words over a little bit-- but she wasn't sure how accurate her assumptions would be. How many men had she made feel good? Her shoulders lifted and she offered a helpless little answer, "One?" Did the bathhouse count? She didn't encounter many men at all, just her father really, and from that, it was hard to tell. Hopefully, he would find her answer acceptable.
The fae woman scowled, that is, once the shock wore off. She had never had a man even try to deny her before-- and here he was, doing just that. Standing up a little, she huffed hard. "What are you so fussy over?" A leer toward the King and then back to Richard. "Don't worry, the king will take good care of her." A huff of breath, fluffing some of that pretty hair out of the way. "Besides, you'd be a fool to walk away from this."
The Fairy woman continued her attentions, seemingly unable to understand that Richard simply wasn't interested. Or perhaps "wasn't interested" wasn't exactly true: his body was reacting, true; under the red-headed woman's hands he was certainly growing slightly, but it wasn't anything like what he looked or felt like fully grown. And although he continued to flick his eyes towards her soft, pillowy breasts with their nipples slightly exposed, he didn't give in and stare. The majority of his attention was still on the Fairy king--and his daughter.
The Fairy king continued to stroke Laele's soft shoulders, his clever fingers making their way below even her shirt now. Although they didn't stray farther down than her collarbones, his touch was growing increasingly suggestive. Perhaps Laele wouldn't notice--or perhaps she would, since it had hints of the treatment she'd come to expect over the past few weeks. But during it all his voice was pleasant: during it all, the king's honeyed words continued to slide into the little girl's brain and calm her down. He had a way of making the listeners feel safe, calm, relaxed.
"One!" he sounded shocked, a note of surprise making its way into his normally modulated voice. But it was quickly gone, replaced by mirth. "Sweet child, you've barely begun! Your mother must have taught you how to use your powers... so why don't you? Are you frightened?" His fingers began to work lower, massaging her sides, the king's soft fingers brushing lightly against the sides of her breasts. "We would be happy to show you."
The knight caught only glimpses here and there through the fairy woman's wagging head--and he was beginning to grow irritated. His fists clenched, unclenched, clenched. "Move," he growled.
It was a long moment she stilled when his hands continued to roam along her skin, when he called forward the thoughts of her mother. Her stomach clenched a little at the comment, and she bit her lip. Head lowering a little bit as she tried to think of how to respond. Her mother hadn't mentioned anything of the sort-- not that she could remember, really. Although, those memories were a little muddled and lost to her; after all, it was such a long time ago. She had been gone for.... so long. Her eyes slid closed and she shook her head, looking down at her hands, intertwining them as she fussed a little. "I don't...." She felt a stirring of confusion. Was her mother the same? She knew she was strong, that she had magic-- but was she like this, like Laele? Her tiny lip was chewed for a few moments before she could find her voice. "I don't... She never showed me."
Her head lifted and she tried to keep her voice even, not to show that longing or regret that was building in her chest. "She... passed away a long time ago." She twisted the hem of her skirt, using it to focus her energy even as his hands crept up, felt over the soft skin, the edges of the plushness of her budding chest, moving along her skin. It was intimate, she knew that much, but the way his voice was soothing her made her feel weird. Like she wanted to trust him, even though everything her father had taught her told her not to. "I... I don't know if I'm supposed to..." And this is when she looked to Richard, if briefly, seeing how he was standing now with the fae in the way before she looked down again, timidly.
That aforementioned woman rolled her eyes a little bit. "Your funeral." She hummed, fingers caressing the front of his pants before she allowed herself to step to the side, giving him a bit of space in order to walk past her-- though she seemed interested in following, mostly curious about just how things would play out.
His fingers were so soft, so warm on her skin. It seemed like the Fairy king's hands, not just his words, were silky smooth. Everywhere they touched made Laele feel warm--an itchy kind of warm, the sort that made her feel a little squirmy. He had slid his hands down to caress her stomach and was brushing his thighs, his hands standing out underneath her shirt. When had he done that? "I'm so sorry to hear that," his voice blew cool in her ear. "You must be distraught, since your mother's... gone... like that." There was a strange hitch in his voice, like there was more he wanted to say. But what? His hands were all over her, but they hadn't touched anywhere specific he wasn't supposed to. Was that alright?
Richard waited for the fairy to leave, although he rewarded her with a grunt as she gave him one last squeeze. Then he pushed away and he walked with purpose towards the king's throne. Several Fairies stood vaguely in his way but upon his approach backed away. Perhaps they saw the look on his face, or the way he was half-ready to draw his large sword. He drew closer and closer to the throne as the revelry continued. Drinks were bring drunk and food was being eaten; although several groups were enraptured in dancing, he didn't pay them so much as a glance as he passed them by.
"You'll have to be taught," the king breathed. And there was a bulge growing under her rear, somehow. Was it because of her, or because his hands had roamed to her thighs? He was squeezing them, massaging them and groping them more and more openly. "Everything you're feeling, focus on that. Do you feel warm, tingly, pressure inside?" Finally his hands came up and cupped the girl's little breasts. His thumbs, soft and warm, skimmed over her sensitive nipples. "We can teach you how."
The warmth was different, not the kind that slipped to her chest like when her Daddy touched her, but something more infectious, that seemed to crawl along her skin and slither along her body as his hands did. They continued to touch, and she wasn't sure what to do. She had been told to listen, to be good, but all the same it seemed his touch was something... more. "Ah--" She'd have to be taught? But wasn't Father teaching her? Her throat tightened a little, but she didn't say that, it felt like talking back and she had been told off for that enough in the monastery in order to keep her words to herself. Though as she felt that bulge she wondered if he was just a man-- wasn't that what SEra had said? They got big and it hurt and they needed to be made happy?
She didn't have time to think about it too long, as his hands skimmed up to her chest, touching over it as she let out a little squeaky sound. It wasn't protesting so much as surprised. "I... I feel it." She admitted, almost timidly, as she felt herself heat even more. She had felt that kind of warmth before, though this was different-- even if she didn't really understand why. Her nipples stiffened easily under his touch as her head tilted back a little, glancing up at him, not sure what to do in response. She usually tried to wiggle away, but something about him was like a magnet, keeping her drawn into him even as she tried to look away. Her little shirt stretching over his hand as he continued to toy with her.
"I don't understand..." Was all she got out before she noticed Richard's approach, her body sitting up a little more, her momentary irritation forgotten as she found some relief in seeing him. Though perhaps he wouldn't find the same, especially with that bulge pushing up against her, her little legs coming apart to try and make room for it-- if only to keep things from being uncomfortable. Though seeing the red-haired fae following him made her face screw up a little as she 'hmph'ed a little, though her gaze didn't leave him this time.
"Daddy..." She waved a little, looking awkward and a tiny bit ashamed as well as heated-- clearly she was confused, a little riled, and all the same happy to see him.
The Fairy king couldn't conceal what he was doing, not when Richard drew close enough: his hands were too obvious, outlines clear beneath Laele's top. He stayed there, focusing on the little girl's breasts, clearly having found what he was looking for. His hands cupped and squeezed her tender flesh while his thumbs spun lazily around her nipples, lightly grazing them. Now and then he gave them a pinch, attempting to elicit a gasp or moan from the little girl. And he didn't so much as slow down as her father approached.
Richard ground to a halt, his hand snapping up to his sword hilt. He glowered at the king, looking at him molesting his little daughter. "Hands off, now," he hissed through gritted teeth. All around him the Fae halted their revelry and stared, many of them menacing Richard with as much fury as they had before--or even more. And yet the Fairy king didn't budge. He squeezed Laele's breasts and met Richard's look.
"You needn't startle her," he said mildly. "This is everyday life for a girl like your daughter." The bulge under her had grown and slid up her back, pressed between her little ass cheeks. He withdrew his hands from her top and pressed them to her ears, deafening her. "You can't win, Richard," the king said quietly. "All you'll do is hurt some of us and terrify your daughter. She has the right to know what her powers are." There was a pause. And then, the masterstroke just as the situation had hung in the air for a moment: "Of course, if you don't want to let her experiment on you, we can use someone else."
Richard stood there, his hand clenching and unclenching on his sword hilt, looking at his daughter with a lost expression on his normally thunderous face.
She couldn't help the sounds that escaped, the little whines and gasps-- she was already sensitive, but something about the king's touch made her more so. Made her feel all hot and twisted on the inside. She had felt that way before; walking in the woods, and she realized it was similar. An infection inside of her that was spreading, making her squirm in his lap and pant a little. It wasn't the same as her private time with her Father, there was something else about that, something that was missing now-- but it was getting hot rather quickly. She swallowed hard, trying to keep quiet as the hands tweaked her again and her little thighs twitched. "Ahn..."
Was he here to rescue her, like he always had? She was hopeful but confused. Did she want to be rescued? It felt really good. Her breath came out in a hot puff, as she felt his hands slide up from her slim frame and around her ears. Covering her from hearing the conversation. She knew something must have been up, considering the way everyone was watching, the look on her father's face. But then it changed, and so did Laeles, looking at him with a hazy sort of confusion, maybe a little desperation there.
She didn't like that look-- she couldn't think of many situations in her life when she saw him look unsure, or lost. She wanted to run and hug him, and that was evident in her own expression. She wanted to make everything better, but she just... couldn't move. The cock under her backside felt like fire and she squished her legs together, trying to hide her embarrassment. The heat was coming back.
"I'm sure I know a few boys who would love to break in a new girl." The woman offered from the side, looking rather self-satisfied. She leaned against the table, breasts now spilled out with no concern. It became evident easily enough that this party wasn't just for food and drink. "I promise they'll be gentle, it's not the first virgin they've played with." She raised her brows, one leg sliding open, letting him view just a bit up her ruffled skirts if he dared to look. "Then you can attend to a real woman." She huffed a laugh as the other shoulder of her peasant blouse slid off of her shoulders, another female fae already tasked with burying into her chest.
The noises Laele was making were familiar to Richard, although he'd more or less blocked them from his mind, or tried to: little gasps, quiet moans, even miniature shudders that ran from her fingers to her toes. Every motion the king made seemed to set her off. Little by little, she was drawing towards the state she'd been in when Richard had been "forced" to help her with his mouth and his tongue. A horny little mess. Not yet, but maybe soon if the Fairy king got his way.
From his side the Fae woman taunted, offering him another chance to look and perhaps, to participate. He didn't so much as turn his head to look at her, although it was clear by the tenseness that grew in his body, he was listening. His hand clenched his sword hilt so hard it creaked, so hard his knuckles turned pure white. Slowly, slowly, he eased his hand off. Both flopped to his sides, almost like he'd given up. And the king removed his hands from Laele's ears.
"Fine." Richard said harshly, but there was almost a note of pleading in his voice. He moved forward, within arms' reach of his daughter when the king beckoned. And he curled his lip but didn't argue when again the Fae man began to caress his daughter's breasts.
"Time to learn," the Faerie king breathed. "Why don't you unfasten your father's pants?" He pinched and tugged on Laele's little nipples, then slowly roamed downwards until his hand was grazing her thighs. Almost less than an inch from reaching her sensitive flesh between her legs, from touching her where her father's tongue had been not long ago. The Fae around her watched in awe as if it was something of a spectacle, and perhaps it was. When did you get to see a Fae's sexual awakening, let alone one as special as Laele?
She wasn't sure what was happening-- for a time she could only watch the emotion her father dared to show. The anger of his grip and tense line of his shoulders to the sadness, almost resigned look, that followed. She didn't know what they were saying, but she never liked seeing him so defeated. She had always tried to take care of him, more so now than before, but she was learning every day. Even back before when all she could do was feed the fire and pack the bags. She always wanted to be good, always wanted him to be happy.
It didn't seem like he was, now.
"Uhm..." She was, despite all the honey on her tongue and tingles along her skin, tempted to refuse. But when her father got closer she closed her mouth; as if knowing she was missing something, even if she didn't know what it was. Refusal could be trouble. Was it within her rights? Would they turn on them? The thought worried her because she knew nothing about Fae, but she didn't want to cause trouble for her father.
So she leaned forward a bit-- as much as she could get with those hands skimming her, threatening to touch her sensitive bits in ways that made her squirm and tried to focus on him. Soft hands tugging lightly at his belt, struggling a bit because of the weight that relied on it-- bags, items, sword-- but eventually unfastening it. Then pulling the laces of his breeches open, prying them apart a little at a time, focused gaze directed entirely at him till she could get them open. The front sliding down just a bit, making Laele flush a little, looking up at Richard, unsure, as if asking him for guidance.
He could see the look of uncertainty on his little daughter's face. She looked at him, then turned slightly to see if she could spy the expression on the Fairy King's face, but evidently found no clear answer there. That was no surprise: the man's expression had been unreadable since the beginning of their encounter and it certainly hadn't changed any now. His face was a concealed mask of a knowing smile and gleaming eyes. It was clear he was enjoying himself--and had been since the start. But Richard's face was still mixed.
He looked down at his cute little girl as she began to fumble with his belt. It wasn't an easy job, but she managed her best. The bulge in his trousers had been there since the Fairy woman had played with him, but she knew enough by this point to understand he wasn't fully hard... and yet when his daughter reached out to him, the bulge grew. Perhaps it was because his member had been expecting the contact and was belatedly responding to it, thinking the delicate hand that reached to expose him was another woman's, or perhaps it was because he was already imagining his daughter's hand on his shaft. Or, more salaciously yet, perhaps his body was reacting automatically to her. Perhaps he was already keyed to grow, stiffen, throb as his daughter brushed his skin.
She had a difficult time undoing his pants and ended up having to lean forward to work at it. When his underclothes were half-revealed, the bulge now clearly defined under the fabric and straining to get out, she paused, flushed, looked up to him. She had reason to do it besides her nervousness, anyway: the growing member underneath her lap had been angled by her forward lean to the point where it was now almost bending between her cheeks, grinding slowly as its angle equalized, along her slit and then backwards, grazing over her little asshole, threatening to pierce in (why did it feel like it was on her bare skin all of a sudden, not her clothes?) but it finally sprung back. The Fairy King's cock ended up between her cheeks, sandwiched and then firm against her lower back. She could feel a shiver go through the man rubbing her inner thighs, his fingers grazing closer and closer.
Richard stared at his daughter for a long time. Looking deep into her eyes and feeling his own gaze soften. He reached out a hand, using his rough palm to pat Laele's head. Slowly, he nodded. "Take it out."
The pressure was uncomfortable, she hadn't experienced much back there, and she didn't know what to do with the feeling of his weight pressing in on her. She didn't want to cause problems-- she never did, but all the same, it felt like she needed to wiggle away. Thankfully she didn't have to when that hard length sprung up behind her instead, pressing into her back as her attention narrowed in on the bulge before her.
Her throat worked, once, twice, before she nodded. Little wisps of white hair sticking to her cheeks and tumbling into curls, framing the face that stared up for perhaps a moment too long before sliding back down. Looking at the straining fabric she blew out a breath, the half-familiar smell meeting her from being so close. She knew him better than any, as her father and constant companion since she left the monastery. Reaching out she gripped the edges, gently tugging against it, slowly easing it out of the way and allowing that thick length to spring out in front of her.
She had done something like this before, hadn't she?
Soft hands wrapped around the base, angling the head toward herself, a breath tight and high to steel herself before she started stroking him. Soft, nervous, gentle at first but it didn't take long for her to find an easy rhythm. It wasn't normal, not yet, but she could manage it better than most would in her position. Plush pinks parting, pressing against the tip as she strained to push him in a bit. It still felt odd, but she was better equipped to do it than many. Allowing herself to suckle at the end delicately, little swipes of a soft tongue attempting to be attentive-- attempting, perhaps, to ease his mind. Maybe with it her own. Those little ripples of her power, that gentle echo, already beginning to creep along the room.
Richard was utterly sucked in, his eyes locked tight onto his daughter's pretty face. He was utterly and completely torn--made frustrated and angry by the strange fairy noble (was he really a king?) who had placed Laele on his lap, and also made undeniably excited by the situation. Did he want his daughter to open her soft, plush lips wide and taste her father's cock? Of course he did. He'd been dreaming of it for a long, long time, since the little slime had simulated it for him. Perhaps even before that, although he'd never have admitted it at the time.
The man was talking again. His honeyed tongue, Richard was discovering, had a way of ferreting out what Richard least wanted him to say. "So beautiful," he cooed. "That last moment before a pair steps over the boundary. No way of going back after that, I'm afraid. The liminal threshold is a fragile one." The sigh he blew out was echoed around the assembly and Richard flicked his gaze sideways for just a moment, long enough to see that he wasn't the only one feeling tense. Around the group of fairies, almost all eyes were on the king, on the hunter and his daughter. They were waiting with bated breath for the next step in whatever play they were partaking in. He looked back to match Laele's gaze. One final nod. Laele reached forward.
Richard sucked in a breath as his cock sprang out, revealed to the onlookers by his daughter's dark, soft hands. The fairies, those that weren't involved in their own kinds of games, made encouraging noises and leaned in even more. His member throbbed there in the summer air, thick and tense as he felt. His knees shook as she began to slowly pump him. Richard felt as if he was floating on something: he closed his eyes to savor the moment and so was utterly unprepared for the feeling of his daughter's soft, wet lips on his glistening pink cockhead. The hunter let out a gasp amid encouraging words from the fairies surrounding them and clenched his hand in his daughter's hair. "Laele," he breathed, and shook as her deft little tongue began to play with him.
Richard didn't have the awareness in him at the moment to notice, but as Laele had begun to tend to him, her unique power was beginning to take effect. Ripples of lust spread out from her and seemed to have an even stronger effect on the fairies than they had on humans so far: fairies were already fidgeting, giggling, gasping in pleasure. More than one female fairy had slipped her fingers to her already-damp undergarments and more than one male had released his uncomfortable tent. The Fairy King himself, although seemingly still in possession of his senses, grinned deeply. "Perfect," he whispered, and ground his cock into Laele's soft back.
Laele was glad for the way her mind narrowed down to a point when his cock head brushed her tongue, taking over her senses briefly. Keeping the murmurs and commentary out of her nervous little ears if only for a moment. Allowing herself to hyperfocus, however, only lasted so long. The murmurs and sighs around her slowly creeping back in as his hand threaded into those silky white hairs. Curling in the messy tufts atop her head as she stared up again, drawn to the sound of her own voice. It wasn't a new perspective, she spent most of her life looking up to him, though the weight in her mouth was still new. She tried to tell herself it was like the bathhouse-- but it wasn't, not entirely. He knew it to be her at the very least, and beyond that, there was many more watching than her ever constant-companion the slime and some water-woman.
She made a small grunting noise at the feel of the grind, but other than that, it seemed the King wasn't privy to much more of her attention in that moment. Instead allowing herself to work against the tip, hands sliding down to allow her mouth a little more space. It was clear she'd probably not fit all of him without a great deal more work, but that didn't mean she had entirely forgotten her lessons. The tip already dripping with saliva as she worked over what she could fit, hands spreading that wetness downward, touching every inch she couldn't tuck away into her mouth.
It wasn't a curious swallowing of his shaft like he might have gotten from the Fae woman, but there was no missing the slow, almost loving ministration. Careful touches and closely watching eyes, making sure each reaction was a good reaction. Working her way back and forth she fell into a small pace with the help of his hands. Working herself over every bit she could fit, ignoring the small dribbles of wetness already running down her chin. Inexperience left her more messy than most, but that didn't stop those soft pink lips from gliding along his shaft, sucking here or there, her cheeks hollowing out a bit as her eyes fluttered closed. Trying her best to focus back on him, even if it wasn't the same as earlier.
The crowd felt it too, lulled into a slow, building pleasure, little shocks of satisfaction following as he nudged to the back of her mouth. She seemed to at least be allowing herself to enjoy it, or perhaps was being accidentally overtaken by the echo of his own pleasure as it tingled through her body. Either way, she had fallen in tune with him, and thus, some of the worry and fear left her features. Instead succumbing to easier instincts, filling her mouth with more of him at every chance.
It was clear to everyone watching that this wasn't something Laele was particularly accustomed to doing. She struggled at parts here and there, primarily figuring out how best to fit her father's size into her pretty little mouth. Her naivete was incredibly endearing, it seemed, to the surrounding fairies: more than one seemed ready to guide her in one way or another or at least offer advice. However, any raised voices were met with a stern look from the Fairy King and the offered help subsided, quickly distracted in one way or another by roving hand and puckered lips. A particularly keen observer might have been able to draw one or more conclusions from the way the fairies began to ease into their tender orgy. Perhaps one could have noted the way they seemed willing to freely engage with as many nearby partners as they could get their hands on, or how they seemed perfectly willing to approach an already entangled individual. One woman with gossamer wings and bright red hair stole up behind a yellow-haired man and slipped her hands under his tunic to caress and to stroke his chest. Another fairy, seemingly randomly chosen, was shuddering as she was stimulated by as many as a dozen hands on her from different fairies of both genders. Everywhere foreplay was in full swing and seemed to be going no further, fingers brushing just short of throbbing tents and dampened thighs.
Richard was enraptured. His little daughter suckled on his cock and pushed him slowly, tantalizingly slowly... deeper. She was making a mess, the poor girl, her saliva mixing with his precum and dripping from her overstuffed mouth. She wasn't practiced, but she was learning. Learning at an honestly astonishing rate: although Richard wasn't voiceless and certainly his "tells" were discernible (a hitched breath as her tongue slid over his head, his grip on her hair tightening when she sucked on him and slid slowly back along his shaft) there was no reason she should know exactly where his sweet spots were after traveling over them just once. It was a theme that the Fairy King seemed to be counting on, for as her focus narrowed he whispered hot against her ear to encourage her. "That's what makes you so special, my sweet," he told her. "Focus on your father's feelings. Like you were staring into the reflection on a pond, dip your face in. Become one with it. Embrace what makes you, you." The King's fingers, smooth and soft, dipped between the little girl's legs as he pushed her gently forward. Taking up every inch of her possible retreat so she just had to accept more of her father's hard cock into her mouth. His fingers slid slowly, tantalizingly down... and sent a jolt through her body when they touched her clit. "Focus," he told her again.
"Good girl," Richard breathed, looking down at his daughter as she blew him. At her pretty face that he was dirtying. It was all he could do not to take her delicate face and jam his cock down her throat. To pump his cum into her as her eyes fluttered wide.
The voice in her ear got a soft, startled sound, though most beyond the three of them wouldn't hear it. It was far too muffled amongst the sighs of pleasure and the pleading noises-- never mind the dampening of his cock filling her mouth again. It didn't last long either. She tried to focus back in, but the words rung in her ear. Like a pond. It reminded her of the nymph, the way the feelings had built up so strongly inside of her without even being directly touched for a lot of it. She didn't respond, not that she could really, but it was clear she heard if only by the way thick lashes fluttered open and golden eyes found themselves once more upon her father.
Swallowing a mess of pre and saliva she tried to stop herself from running from that feeling. She had grown so used to that, but she couldn't now, and knew it would only get worse if she continued to strain away from it. Sighing she took in another half-inch, his cock head pressing to the back of her throat as she stared up like a doll, or perhaps a half-fae girl slipping into a trance. The approval was the only thing to get a reaction after that, a fluttering of eyelashes as she beamed up at him. Her tongue swiping at him, and soon he'd feel that pull stronger than before. The sensation of her magic creeping along his skin along with hers. The pleasure of fingers on her clit somehow being played out along his skin, a strong pulse of pleasure climbing up from his cock.
She listened in, not just with her ears, but with that inexperienced magic. Feeling every little hitch of pleasure when she did this or that, every echo that played back through her, and made sure to do it again. Mixing all the pleasure together, her own along with his, picking up the pace as her mouth slid up and down his shaft, dribbling onto the floor below them without a care. Inching him as deep as she could before pulling back with a wet pop, mouth smearing the tip before she drew him back in. Sucking him deep again and repeating the process, teasing every little spot that she had learned. Knowing now just how he wanted to be pleased in this moment, and more so, allowing herself to do it.
The little push easing her into the proper state, enchanted by the feel of him in her mouth, continuing to pump and suckle on him as it readily turned the fae around them into a complete mess. There was no resisting the pulse of magic now, overflowing as she eagerly lapped up every little pre before drowning herself down back onto his cock like it was becoming second nature. Perhaps it was.
The Fairy King's eyes were glittering. "What a natural," he breathed, tracing his fingers along Laele's damp lips and brushing her sensitive little clit. Perhaps there was some magic in him too, for he seemed to know all the right places to touch her, all the ways to coax her shy arousal out from its nervous hiding place. Or perhaps it was the way his fingers seemed electric, like they transferred little pleasant shocks to her skin where he touched her. "Truly your mother's daughter," the King sighed in contentment, and continued to instruct her--although there was little enough she seemed to need direction on. "Take the pleasure you feel and imagine," he instructed. "Imagine that warmth coming from you and flowing into your father, reaching deep, reaching to his fingers and his toes. Like sending a warm wave through every part of him, rebounding back to you."
Richard looked down with a rare amount of tenderness in his eyes, clearly understanding just how much of herself his daughter was devoting to fulfilling his needs, and more--to making sure he felt good. He found he couldn't say much at all through the thick knot of his throat as he looked down at the happy expression on his daughter's pretty, white-framed face. She was driving him wild, whether she understood it or not: little jolts of electric warmth were jittering through his cock and into his core, little pulses that seemed vaguely in time with the way her own body was being touched. It was a faint, fuzzy sort of feeling yet, but that was fine with him: otherwise he might not have been able to hold on at all. As it was Richard was struggling to keep the rising tide of his orgasm from overflowing. His fingers ran through his daughter's hair as his breathing caught and hitched and came much, much more quickly.
Although Richard was holding on as best he could, it seemed like Laele was dissolving the minds of the faeries around them. What had begun as a relatively relaxed, easy bout of foreplay had become a complete mess. Traveling out from her were those shockwaves of pleasure and they were turning their onlookers into an almost mindless pile. All pretense had been abandoned and with it, a great deal of delicacy: in complete departure from the way the fairies had been gently teasing each other, now they were fumbling, almost uncoordinated in their attempts to sate their lusts. Wet lips wrapped around stiff erections and tasted them sloppily while hands furiously worked to shed clothing and press inwards. Already moans and gasps were filling the air, and Laele had just begun.
The instructions were vague, yet they made some sort of sense, it was as if she could feel the energy around her. Instead of just being aware, it was like she was tied to it in some way. She could push it out in waves or draw it in, and it seemed she had no shortage, no matter which way she went with it. Allowing the energy to pulse for a few moments, experimenting with it, before she drew it in from her Father once again. Letting it build with her own before she pushed him deep into her mouth, letting the feelings flow back out. Gentle as butterflies into a slow torrent, like the beginnings of a mudslide, he'd feel the swell of pleasure and magic that was inside of her. Familiar and yet different, as she allowed herself to keep multiplying the pleasure, not thinking of what it was doing to those around them, instead just focusing on every note of satisfaction that he offered.
It felt so good to make him feel good, in every sense. She fell into it like she was sinking in quicksand, yet didn't want to be saved. Legs tensing around the King's hand, she didn't try to stop him as she had before, instead using that fuel to add to the fire. Like gasoline tossed into a forest fire, nothing was going to stop until he finished. It became abundantly clear as her movements became a little more messy, more enchanted. Mouth opening, tongue slipping out as she struggled to fit more of him, gagging and yet not stopping as she continued to work over the tip and the shaft. Pumping firmly as she moaned gently against the thick weight on her tongue, sending a ripple of pleasure through the area.
It seemed she'd gone beyond simply wanting to satisfy him, to enjoying it, to needing it. Not unlike she had been when she was struggling to walk through the ache in her legs, it seemed there was something about Richard that let her fall apart and welcome the pleasure instead of run from it-- and he was getting the brunt of it. In every pleasurable way possible. The pleasure spreading, not just from his cock but to every inch of his body as she stared up, cheeks bulging a little as she tried to stuff more of him inside, wet from the small bit of attention she was getting alone.
"Your mother's daughter," the Fairy King uttered again, enraptured by Laele's performance. It seemed like the constant flow of energy from the little girl was beginning to affect him as well: his cock dripped precum onto her back as he slid it between her cheeks, hard and throbbing and pinning her between it and her father's erection. His fingers had focused in on her clit and were rubbing insistently in a circular pattern on it, using her own juices to make the motion smooth instead of rough. "That's a good girl." The encouragement came from the King but might as well have come from her father--if he could have uttered it. Richard seemed to quickly be losing his sensibility and his self-control as Laele lavished her power upon him more and more. Both his hands had come to hold her head, to thread through and knot in her hair, and they were tensing. Releasing. Tensing. His mouth had opened and he was breathing hard, puffing out and gasping in pleasure as she continued to service him. He was looking at her but his eyes seemed to be periodically losing focus.
Wanton screams and moans came from all around them as the group descended into mindless pleasure. Cocks, fingers and anything at hand were being pressed into every available orifice. Tongues licked sloppily amidst drooling mouths while hips pumped mindlessly away. Everywhere there were scenes of complete and total abandon: at one end of the dining table food had been hastily cleared away to make available enough space for a couple to rut. Without pretense or thought a male fairy came from behind the two and forced himself into the woman on top, who herself seemed barely aware of it happening. A faerie woman had been lifted aloft by an unsteady few and was fairly skewered on their cocks as she struggled to keep herself aloft with beating wings. Everywhere fairies seemed to be engaging with wild abandon, picking simply whoever was close to hand without concern for age, gender or existing involvement. Two men pressed together, both thrusting into a single closed fist as they ground against one another. A teenage boy bent in ecstasy as he held an older woman's mouth to his groin. Wet, sloppy and sticky sounds echoed amidst moans and gasps.
The first hint Laele had that she'd made her father lose control came in the form of his grip tightening and a short, sharp tug. She found her mouth stuffed more full of her daddy's cock than it ever had been before--so overfull that she could hardly help but choke. She only found room to breathe when he pulled out but even that was only in service of thrusting back into her. He pulled her head down and thrust in, pulled back, thrust in, pulled back... using her like she was a toy. Like he was fucking straight through the core of the little slime, as if he could use his daughter like a fucktoy in the same way. Brief gasps and pants of her name poured out of his mouth as he reached the end of his endurance.
As if that wasn't enough, the Faerie King upped his assault on her clit at the very same time. Driving her almost unquestioningly towards orgasm, he breathed in her ear: "Relax as best you can. Let him use you. Focus on your own feelings and draw everything into your core, every little bit of warmth and heat, build it up like a spring..."
It was hard, very hard, at first to relax as he began using her rather than letting her passively please him. The feel of that thick head nudging her throat making her sputter and gag, even if the sounds didn't have much room to escape, his girth making a near seal with her lips with the way he stretched her out. The saliva just drooling down her chin and neck, unable to stop it from being pulled out along with his cock, smearing off against her lips when he shoved back in.
She tried not to focus on the choking sensation, even with her own pleasure, but it wasn't easy, and it took her a bit-- not that it stopped the messy sounds or even messier sensations that flowed out. But as he began to tense, to push deeper, she found herself drawing more and more of the surrounding pleasure in, letting her mind center on it, to focus on the way it built inside of her. Like the time she had tried to fill a waterskin only to have the river tug the entire thing away with as much as the pressure hit the back. But she held it tight, like a knot in her chest, memories of her father's mouth feeding it even more as fingers tickled and touched her, leaving her dripping as he once again shoved in.
Her eyes slid up, watching the strain on his face as she felt herself fill, the sensations filling up every bit of her body till she was tingling from her nose to the tips of her toes with magic and overwhelming pleasure. The only warning he'd get was a desperate, tight whimper and a bow of her back as she couldn't hold it anymore, and like the waterskin, it got away from her. The burst is like an emotional shockwave, hitting those closest hardest, but no one seemed to be safe from it. If the messy, desperate, gasping sounds were anything to go by. Her own body shuddering as she came with so little contact, making an absolute mess between her legs as she desperately swallowed down her Father's cock.
It seems there was no getting away from it for him for now, she needed to be filled, and instincts were ruling her every action. Shoving forward and stuffing him as deep as she could take him, desperate, needy, and unwilling to let him go till she was stuffed full. Though, if it was anything like before, the group-- and poor Richard-- would need to suffer a multitude of orgasms before Laele could even gain control of herself. But it was far, far too late to worry about that now.
Her father's cock used her mouth like the tight little hole it was, forcing her to accommodate as much of him as she possibly could. Strings of saliva and precum trailed from her lips to his shaft every time he pulled halfway out, and every push back in shoved dribbles and droplets out of her overstuffed mouth. Wet trails dripped down her pretty, exposed chest and trailed down between her legs where the Faerie King continued his assault. He murmured words of encouragement into her ear even as her father used her pretty little mouth, the large and gruff man utterly lost to his continued thrusting. Forced as she was to her father's groin, she bent at such an angle that the King could reach more and more of her with his cock. He ground against her like he planned on spitroasting her, although his cockhead was never quite in the right place to spear one of her vulnerable holes. His fingers abandoned any pretense of slowness and simply rubbed her back and forth as his own cock throbbed. Richard felt he might be able to regain his senses if he just focused for a moment longer. Just a moment longer.
And then Laele surged forward, shoving him as deep as she could take him. Far deeper than he'd imagined. And the wave hit him.
Richard held her head there, leaning over her petite body as he struggled to keep his legs from buckling. He gasped out, almost insensibly, fighting for air as his eyes squeezed shut. "Laele," he groaned, a deep shuddering gasp that seemed to go through his whole body as he came. He'd orgasmed before, many times, but this was something more than that. It was a shaking quiver that ran through his entire figure, from his toes to his fingers. It was all he could do to stand there, swaying, riding out the surging wave of his and Laele's pleasure. His cock throbbed and pulsed in her mouth and his cum went rushing down her throat, little droplets and strings escaping her mouth as a particularly hard spurt came too quick for her to swallow. Her father's sticky cum drenched her throat and her stomach as he gasped, holding onto her tight, almost demanding she swallow every last bit.
The King seemed to have better control of his senses, but only just: warm shots of his cum painted the girl's dark skin on her back as he shivered and let out higher-pitched gasps. Between his haze he was able to say: "take that energy that's surging around you right now. Breathe it... hh... in. Make it yours." She could feel it: all around her, amplified by the dozens of shivering and shaking piles surrounding them, energy swirled. It was intoxicating. "Take it in until you're full."
She took it all as best she could, swallowing hard so she didn't choke, though that didn't stop a few bursts of air from escaping, cum drooling down her chin even as most of it exploded down her throat. Started filling her up the same as the energy had-- as it still was. Being slowly drawn in like the tide, unable to resist seeping into every bit of her. She muttered a soft moan against his cock, holding him close-- not that she was strong enough to stop him from pulling away, but there was a sort of magnetism of sensation there, something to keep him drawn to her. Filling her mouth still as she came all over the King's fingers.
Perhaps he was playing too dangerous of a game, it was hard to tell because there wasn't just one burst-- but echoes of it, like ripples in a pond. Spreading out from her again, and again, and again. Forcing the fae around her through one orgasm after another, much like the woman in the waterway they had to endure pleasure like a marathon-- her father caught up, or perhaps the source, of all of it. The tide rushed in, out, in, out, like the world was fast-forwarding-- till even the most stalwart of the gathered Fae was panting and barely able to form proper words past the orgasms. There was no escaping them, even those who managed to break free of their partners were forced to orgasm on their own, no stimulation even needed as she pushed them through each wave without a second thought.
Only when she was able to get a breath was she able to slow it some, drawing it all in, filling herself with a sort of magical energy that was rolling off of everyone in spades. Deep inside, bundling against her core as she sapped more and more from the room. Finally allowing them rest as they laid about, a giant quivering mass of magic and cum, her own body a little limp and dazed as her eyes opened back up. Trailing up to him as eventually, his cock popped out of her mouth, half-saliva mixed cum oozing down her chin and dripping down as she caught her breath, lips pink and almost bruised, mouth agape as if she didn't have the energy to close it. Slowly... two soft hands reaching up, reaching for him wordlessly, though her eyes said it all.
To Richard it felt like the longest orgasm he'd ever ridden out, and although he knew it couldn't be true he felt somehow lighter after it finally, finally finished. How many shots had that been? Seven? Twelve? It was like she'd stolen some of his energy away with every pump he'd sent shooting down her hungry throat. He was ready to pull back, to pull out... and then it hit him again--more pulses of cum into his little daughter's body. And when it stopped, another wave. And another and another. Perhaps there were more, but he began to lose track of time, each shivering wave of pleasure suffusing him and wringing another orgasm from him, or maybe two. It was hard to tell where one ended and the next began, and only when it finally trickled to an end did he come to his senses. But slowly. So agonizingly slowly, like he was poking his head out of a very safe hole and uncertain what kind of world existed outside it.
All around them the little wooded glade was a mess. Here and there food had been pushed off the tables but in some places the faeries hadn't had enough time or sensibility: they'd rutted on top of bowls of fruit or rolled into platters of exotic meats. None were still flying: all had, without a single exception, lost the coordination to do so much as hover. Wings beat weakly around the scene as chests rose and fell unsteadily. Some had been hit by the waves while still wrapped up in each other but many had slid free; however, even outside of their partners' warm embraces the assault hadn't let up. Sticky fluids decorated almost every single individual in attendance, inside and out. Several had simply passed out while others blinked weakly and tried to focus on something.
That something, for Richard, ended up being Laele. He looked down just as she looked up and they met eyes, a tender moment shared as she slowly slid off his cock. She looked as exhausted as he did but in a decidedly different way. He didn't know what it meant yet, not really, but he answered to the nonverbal request even as she made it. He reached down and pulled his little girl up, although his own unsteadiness caused the hunter to fall right back onto his rump. He sat there, breathing heavily, crushing his daughter to his chest in the warmest, tightest and most exhausted hug he'd ever given her. Ever given anyone, perhaps. "Shhh," he managed to say with the last reserves of his strength. Even speech felt like an effort. "That's a good girl. That's my good girl," he praised her, warm ripples still brushing him now and then. He hugged her tight.
"This is your power," a voice whispered on the wind. "Make it your own."
Richard looked up and blinked once, twice: the fae glen was gone, and in its place was the forest they'd wandered through... was it really only an hour ago? The slime burbled softly as it slid up to them and joined their hug. Perhaps he would have pushed it away in another situation, but he didn't have the energy. And it wasn't so bad to hold both of them.
"My Laele," he murmured. "You did a good job. I'm proud of you."
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thoughtsofvorfreude2019-07-26 03:24 am
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The first half of their walk was uneventful, but after a moment Laele kept stopping-- like she was seeing something out of the corner of her eye. It happened a few times, and then there was this smell-- oddly sweet. Like honey and sugar and flowers-- but the thing was, it seemed no one else could smell it. Like Laele may as well have been making it up, but she wasn't the kind of girl to do that. It was almost like she was enchanted by it, taking large sniffs and humming a little. Eventually, she moved ahead, following the scent as it made her toes and nose tingle. It was like eating sweets without eating them.
After a bit of a walk, they came upon a ring of mushrooms and flowers, wild yet somehow organized. The lot of them making a large circle, something odd about the way they all swayed in unison. As she approached there was a little glimmer, and she looked a little surprised, pointing at something unseen before walking forward, standing at the edge before she turned back, looking at him in delight. "Daddy-- there's music!"
And if he got close enough, he'd hear the music and chatter. And perhaps, if he listened close enough, someone mentioning a little fae spying on them.
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Richard walked on, keeping a manageable pace so his shorter-statured daughter wouldn't lag too long behind. Her companion tagged along beside her, moving as a Slime did--confusingly. Whether she technically walked on her own two feet underneath the puddle she dissolved into near her toes or made use of some stranger mechanic, he couldn't quite tell.
It wasn't something that took up too much of his concern. Not just because she was a monster, and therefore mostly beneath his curiosity, but because he had larger issues on his plate.
Namely, the forest around them. He barely noticed or cared that his daughter was peering here and there with a smile on her face, sniffing in like she could catch some far-off, pleasant scent; instead, his eyes were flicking left and right. He seemed more suspicious than anything, as if the trees themselves were trying to lead them into a trap. He guided his daughter along, first turning her slightly left, then farther right. More left. More right. Even doubling back at one point.
None of it mattered even one bit. Richard glared at the trees to both of their sides, as if he was blaming them for their unchanging nature. How could one go in circles simply by walking forwards?
He stopped as his daughter did, right in front of the wild mushroom ring, the circle interspersed with wildflowers. He didn't bother retreating or running by: Richard knew they would just find themselves here once more. "Fairies," he ground out, clearly displeased. This was not the kind of monster he'd come to face.
The air in the circle seemed to shimmer invisibly, like a localized heat haze hung in the air. Richard glared at it too. All around them soft chatter and giggling became audible. In the trees, small creatures played and sang, but the loudest revelry and the sweetest smells came from the circle itself. Richard stood resigned with his lip curled up and his brow furrowed. He stared at the circle, knowing they had to enter but hating it.
And the Slime wobbled right in, vanishing from sight as she passed the boundary.
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After a few seconds she took a deep breath and stepped over the ring, also vanishing from view like the slime had for Richard; though the otherside wasn't what she expected. Not right away anyway. What good would a gate be if anyone could walk through it with no trouble? None at all, of course. She could hear the chatter much louder, but all she saw was the Slime a few feet ahead staring at her. She was about to demand the other girl come out with her when suddenly her entire view was obscured by a pair of legs, and tables and-- fairies!
Her father had been right about it, not that she had any doubt about it to begin with. She trusted his knowledge about beasties and fae more than anyoen else, though she had to wonder why he knew so much-- or how. She'd never thought to ask, and maybe she would, if she remembered after whatever adventure they were about to be on. As it was she noticed a lot of the others staring at her; apparently they could see her long before she could see them. Her brows lifted a little, eyes widening.
Before her she saw many tables, all with people drinking and partying, they were all having a good time it seemed and she wasn't too scared. Until she saw the man on the throne, he was clearly important, being served food and drink by others and having a few fae dancers settled by his side. He seemed to be watching Laele and she was frozen on the spot. Only moving when she was gestured forward, though it took quite a bit of effort on her part, especially when she couldn't see the Slime anymore.
He reached down gently patting her head,something that made her shy away a little. Though he didn't seem offended over the small gasps and chatter, instead he gestured toward the edge of the ring, toward Richard and perhaps the slime; though she could only see her Father. "Are they with you little one?" Laele looked shocked at the question, and perhaps Richard would have admonished her honesty were he there, but as it was she didn't know any better.
"Of course, that's my Daddy." There was a little murmur around the crowd, but he just seemed to smile, leaning up as those long elk like horns shown against the many strung up lights of the party.
"I suppose we will have our first human in attendance, then." He waved a hand, the area didn't seem to change much for Laele, but the slime popped into view and Richard would feel some sort of warmth before the whole area came into view for him; the area looked like a caravan had settled there-- at least with the tables, lush huge sitting pillows, hanging fabrics and lights. There was food everywhere, and drink, and it seemed they were celebrating something quite special.
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It was the same forest he stepped out into, although it was filled with such a different scene that the similarity almost escaped the eye. Instead of an empty glade, the area was filled with different tables set up to seat as many as they possibly could--and even then some figures seemed to be leaning between chairs or even sitting on the tables themselves. Others still sat on pillows beneath satin-draped pillars or danced to foreign music. They didn't look so different from Humans, although each had something that set them apart: here, a blue-skinned girl with hair like fire. There, a shirtless man exposing a great deal of fur and fangs hidden among his teeth. Over there, a small child on all fours staring enraptured at the moon. Branches and wings grew from places they normally didn't, and normal colors were eschewed in favor of brighter and earthier shades.
Richard didn't like it.
There was a man standing by his daughter, bare-chested and decorated with runic tattoos. His hair was white and branches grew from his forehead with red-colored leaves. He had an austere and all-knowing expression, and Richard found he didn't like him at all. Not the least because of his proximity. "Get away from my daughter," the knight growled, and tugged Laele back by her pretty pink coat. He stepped partially in front of her, placing his bulk between the thinner, more slender man. All the while the man--who must have been their leader, based on the way all the revelers looked to him--stared. He didn't take a step back or even flinch from the violent actions of the newcomer.
The two stared at each other, and the hush that had developed among the revelers grew dangerous. More than one bared their fangs at the man--just a Human! How dare he?--or aimed whatever they had at him, ready to impale the intruder on their talons or horns. But before anything could come of the confrontation, a pleasant laugh erupted from one of the nearby tables. A fairy, red-haired and pretty, kicked her legs in amusement as she ran a finger along the Slime's simulated hair. "What a charming creature these two have brought along!" she remarked, and smiled disarmingly at the three embroiled in their conflict. "Come now, everyone, shouldn't we be celebrating? This is a special night, after all!"
The revelers seemed to accept her distraction. They went back to their merry-making, some telling stories and some clapping for the dancers as they resumed. Richard looked away from the leader and glanced over at the party, just for a moment. Then he growled: "Why have you brought us here?"
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He waved a hand, letting it linger outward and in an instant, a drink was placed into his palm. a heavy-looking drink. It looked like wine but moved slower, much more viscous. "It seems you... Daughter--" The word was bit out, almost challengingly, "-- lead you here. Of course, our kind always seems to find it's way home." A puff of a laugh as he took a sip, resting casually despite his threatening posture. "I simply saw fit to invite you to the party, it would be a shame if you were left waiting, wouldn't it?" As if Laele wouldn't have come back for him-- no doubt she would. But she didn't say anything, instead hiding timidly behind him.
The slime however, seemed to really enjoy the touch, leaning into it. Though it seemed to love most any stimuli. It seemed to already be having a bit of fun, getting attention, though there was no missing the occasional glances toward Laele and Richard, waiting for the outcome of whatever was happening.
"So why not enjoy us, it's rare we let a human into our parties, and from what I've heard... Well, perhaps you'd owe us the kindness seeing as..." His gaze traveled over Richard's armor, inspecting him. "You have been hunting in my forest." A hushed little murmur, but he just took another drink. "We've come to celebrate the moon, have a drink."
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He listened to it all and then at last, with gritted teeth, ground out a "thank you." It looked like the statement caused him physical pain, but he made it anyway. Perhaps a glimmer of a smile ghosted over the Fairy's face, but that could have been just a shadow cast by the many glimmering lights all around the party.
"Excellent," crowed the woman who'd been stroking their Slime, who was now seated at one of the outer tables and happily reaching towards various interesting foods. "Then come, sit down! Enjoy the party. Everyone should be happy tonight!" she gestured towards a few empty chairs beside her, then lifted off from the table, borne into the air by slime gossamer wings.
Richard followed her instruction. "Be careful what you do and say," he ground out underneath his breath to his daughter. "Fairies are fickle and if you have to bow and scrape in order to convince them you're being properly respectful and having a good time, do it. Otherwise we might get out of here a hundred years later than we think--or never get out of here at all." Then they neared the table and Richard sat down, reaching for a mug already filled with dark red alcohol and for a piece of buttered bread that smelled strongly of honey.
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She kept sneaking glances around, she couldn't really help it. She didn't know much about the fae-- but she had always been curious. Her mother never mentioned them much, and of course, Richard didn't either, with the rare occasions that he desired to express his irritation with them. The church labeled anything like that as witchcraft and evil, but she didn't think they were. The Slime wasn't, many others they met weren't... And she was curious. Was she like them? She never really thought about it much before, but her magic had to come from somewhere?
She cast sneaky glances around, greeting those that came by, only ruffling slightly when her hair was ruffled and touched and she was pawed at here or there. Though they seemed to keep some kind of a distance, like they were waiting for something. She pushed another bread in her mouth, taking perhaps too long to leer a the woman from earlier as she rested herself against Richard's side. Laele, to some credit for her tiny backbone, makes an effort to completely ignore her as she spoke to her father. "Daddy-- are we relate--" but before she can finish a question he might not like to answer, the woman knocked over an ale, spilling it across Richard's lap and feigning embarrassment. She grabbed a towl, rubbing over his groin firmly.
By the time he'd look back up, Laele was gone.
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The three sat down at the end of a table and began to eat, doing their best to fit into the strange, alien party. As they began to tuck in a few Fairies drifted by, brushing by the Slime and giving her curious looks--not as if they'd never seen something like her before, but more as if she was some kind of oddity that drew faint attention. No, the true treasure they had set their sights on was Laele. And as they came near her their excitement became obvious. Their eyes gleamed and their fingers reached out unbidden. They traced their hands through the little girl's hair, brushed her chin, patted her head, poked her here and there. Some might have gone further, perhaps, but without fail each newcomer was met with a growl and a threatening look from her father. Perhaps the king hadn't been cowed by his manner, but most of the others were.
He would have liked to tell his daughter not to eat anything, not to drink anything, but it was too late: the Slime had swallowed several bits already and Laele was eagerly following. Richard frowned thunderously and took a cursory sniff of his red-filled mug, but ignored it afterwards. And would have gone on ignoring it if it wasn't for the Fairy woman's "clumsy" swing of her arm: with a frustrated curse Richard went to stand up but was interrupted by her again. He stared at her with his dark, tugged-down eyebrows and made eye contact with her as she tried to wipe off his stained, wet pants. It would be a lie to say her touch didn't feel pleasant, but it could only distract him for a few seconds or so--and that was all it took.
Laele lifted from her seat in a whirl of colored leaves, her gravity leaving her temporarily as she floated, light as a feather, among the revelers. They cooed and called and cheered as she went, as if on a string, towards the Fairy King. She came to rest on his surprisingly soft lap and he let his hands come to rest on her shoulders. His voice was soft, floral, alluring. "And look at you, child. How many men have you seduced yet?"
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Laele, on the other hand, was looking around wildly, surprised to be plucked up off of her feet and into the air. Floating along, swallowing down a nervous little noise as he seemed to summon her with no approval of her own. She swallowed down the little piece of bread that was in her mouth as he lead her forward, squirming faintly as she was plopped down into his lap. Her eyes lifted a little as she stared up at the Fae King for a few long moments. Biting her lip she wasn't sure what to say, but he solved that for her, speaking up so easily. "Oh..." She glanced toward her Father, but currently he seemed to be getting smothered by the woman from before and so she stubbornly turned her head away in order to continue the conversation. She didn't want to see what was happening over there.
"Seduced?" She wrinkled her nose at the word, not really familiar with it. Folding her hands politely in her lap, intertwining the small digits as she tried to be a polite lady. Glad she had gotten new clothes so she didn't look like a mess. "I don't know what that means." A pause as she asked, too naive to know better, "You're really the king?"
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Over on his throne, the king smiled (perhaps benevolently?) as the little girl, clearly miffed, turned her head away. "Seduced," he said again. What was it about his voice? Something like silken honey. Something like a running brook, pleasant and relaxing. "That means making them excited, and then making them feel good. Because of who you are, it should come naturally to you." His soft hands slid along her shoulders, fitting neatly underneath her coat. They stroked her gently but began to squeeze ever so slightly.
Richard peered past the woman, or tried to: she was doing her level best to block him, both from moving towards the king and from seeing exactly what he was doing. It wouldn't have been so difficult if her gently swaying breasts hadn't been fighting for his attention--or if his little daughter hadn't been so steadfastly avoiding his attention. He tried to maneuver around her once, twice, acting unusually passive, but finally stopped still and growled at her. "Move. You're in my way."
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She couldn't stop watching him, it was like sweets-- and she got those so rarely. It felt nice on her tongue in a weird way, and warm in her chest, she leaned back and peered up at him. It made her feel comfortable in a way she didn't understand. She wanted to fight it, but she didn't know how, especially when he was touching her. Sensitive, soft skin warmed by contact as she shivered a little at his caress. She thought his words over a little bit-- but she wasn't sure how accurate her assumptions would be. How many men had she made feel good? Her shoulders lifted and she offered a helpless little answer, "One?" Did the bathhouse count? She didn't encounter many men at all, just her father really, and from that, it was hard to tell. Hopefully, he would find her answer acceptable.
The fae woman scowled, that is, once the shock wore off. She had never had a man even try to deny her before-- and here he was, doing just that. Standing up a little, she huffed hard. "What are you so fussy over?" A leer toward the King and then back to Richard. "Don't worry, the king will take good care of her." A huff of breath, fluffing some of that pretty hair out of the way. "Besides, you'd be a fool to walk away from this."
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The Fairy king continued to stroke Laele's soft shoulders, his clever fingers making their way below even her shirt now. Although they didn't stray farther down than her collarbones, his touch was growing increasingly suggestive. Perhaps Laele wouldn't notice--or perhaps she would, since it had hints of the treatment she'd come to expect over the past few weeks. But during it all his voice was pleasant: during it all, the king's honeyed words continued to slide into the little girl's brain and calm her down. He had a way of making the listeners feel safe, calm, relaxed.
"One!" he sounded shocked, a note of surprise making its way into his normally modulated voice. But it was quickly gone, replaced by mirth. "Sweet child, you've barely begun! Your mother must have taught you how to use your powers... so why don't you? Are you frightened?" His fingers began to work lower, massaging her sides, the king's soft fingers brushing lightly against the sides of her breasts. "We would be happy to show you."
The knight caught only glimpses here and there through the fairy woman's wagging head--and he was beginning to grow irritated. His fists clenched, unclenched, clenched. "Move," he growled.
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Her head lifted and she tried to keep her voice even, not to show that longing or regret that was building in her chest. "She... passed away a long time ago." She twisted the hem of her skirt, using it to focus her energy even as his hands crept up, felt over the soft skin, the edges of the plushness of her budding chest, moving along her skin. It was intimate, she knew that much, but the way his voice was soothing her made her feel weird. Like she wanted to trust him, even though everything her father had taught her told her not to. "I... I don't know if I'm supposed to..." And this is when she looked to Richard, if briefly, seeing how he was standing now with the fae in the way before she looked down again, timidly.
That aforementioned woman rolled her eyes a little bit. "Your funeral." She hummed, fingers caressing the front of his pants before she allowed herself to step to the side, giving him a bit of space in order to walk past her-- though she seemed interested in following, mostly curious about just how things would play out.
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Richard waited for the fairy to leave, although he rewarded her with a grunt as she gave him one last squeeze. Then he pushed away and he walked with purpose towards the king's throne. Several Fairies stood vaguely in his way but upon his approach backed away. Perhaps they saw the look on his face, or the way he was half-ready to draw his large sword. He drew closer and closer to the throne as the revelry continued. Drinks were bring drunk and food was being eaten; although several groups were enraptured in dancing, he didn't pay them so much as a glance as he passed them by.
"You'll have to be taught," the king breathed. And there was a bulge growing under her rear, somehow. Was it because of her, or because his hands had roamed to her thighs? He was squeezing them, massaging them and groping them more and more openly. "Everything you're feeling, focus on that. Do you feel warm, tingly, pressure inside?" Finally his hands came up and cupped the girl's little breasts. His thumbs, soft and warm, skimmed over her sensitive nipples. "We can teach you how."
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She didn't have time to think about it too long, as his hands skimmed up to her chest, touching over it as she let out a little squeaky sound. It wasn't protesting so much as surprised. "I... I feel it." She admitted, almost timidly, as she felt herself heat even more. She had felt that kind of warmth before, though this was different-- even if she didn't really understand why. Her nipples stiffened easily under his touch as her head tilted back a little, glancing up at him, not sure what to do in response. She usually tried to wiggle away, but something about him was like a magnet, keeping her drawn into him even as she tried to look away. Her little shirt stretching over his hand as he continued to toy with her.
"I don't understand..." Was all she got out before she noticed Richard's approach, her body sitting up a little more, her momentary irritation forgotten as she found some relief in seeing him. Though perhaps he wouldn't find the same, especially with that bulge pushing up against her, her little legs coming apart to try and make room for it-- if only to keep things from being uncomfortable. Though seeing the red-haired fae following him made her face screw up a little as she 'hmph'ed a little, though her gaze didn't leave him this time.
"Daddy..." She waved a little, looking awkward and a tiny bit ashamed as well as heated-- clearly she was confused, a little riled, and all the same happy to see him.
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Richard ground to a halt, his hand snapping up to his sword hilt. He glowered at the king, looking at him molesting his little daughter. "Hands off, now," he hissed through gritted teeth. All around him the Fae halted their revelry and stared, many of them menacing Richard with as much fury as they had before--or even more. And yet the Fairy king didn't budge. He squeezed Laele's breasts and met Richard's look.
"You needn't startle her," he said mildly. "This is everyday life for a girl like your daughter." The bulge under her had grown and slid up her back, pressed between her little ass cheeks. He withdrew his hands from her top and pressed them to her ears, deafening her. "You can't win, Richard," the king said quietly. "All you'll do is hurt some of us and terrify your daughter. She has the right to know what her powers are."
There was a pause. And then, the masterstroke just as the situation had hung in the air for a moment:
"Of course, if you don't want to let her experiment on you, we can use someone else."
Richard stood there, his hand clenching and unclenching on his sword hilt, looking at his daughter with a lost expression on his normally thunderous face.
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Was he here to rescue her, like he always had? She was hopeful but confused. Did she want to be rescued? It felt really good. Her breath came out in a hot puff, as she felt his hands slide up from her slim frame and around her ears. Covering her from hearing the conversation. She knew something must have been up, considering the way everyone was watching, the look on her father's face. But then it changed, and so did Laeles, looking at him with a hazy sort of confusion, maybe a little desperation there.
She didn't like that look-- she couldn't think of many situations in her life when she saw him look unsure, or lost. She wanted to run and hug him, and that was evident in her own expression. She wanted to make everything better, but she just... couldn't move. The cock under her backside felt like fire and she squished her legs together, trying to hide her embarrassment. The heat was coming back.
"I'm sure I know a few boys who would love to break in a new girl." The woman offered from the side, looking rather self-satisfied. She leaned against the table, breasts now spilled out with no concern. It became evident easily enough that this party wasn't just for food and drink. "I promise they'll be gentle, it's not the first virgin they've played with." She raised her brows, one leg sliding open, letting him view just a bit up her ruffled skirts if he dared to look. "Then you can attend to a real woman." She huffed a laugh as the other shoulder of her peasant blouse slid off of her shoulders, another female fae already tasked with burying into her chest.
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From his side the Fae woman taunted, offering him another chance to look and perhaps, to participate. He didn't so much as turn his head to look at her, although it was clear by the tenseness that grew in his body, he was listening. His hand clenched his sword hilt so hard it creaked, so hard his knuckles turned pure white.
Slowly, slowly, he eased his hand off. Both flopped to his sides, almost like he'd given up. And the king removed his hands from Laele's ears.
"Fine." Richard said harshly, but there was almost a note of pleading in his voice. He moved forward, within arms' reach of his daughter when the king beckoned. And he curled his lip but didn't argue when again the Fae man began to caress his daughter's breasts.
"Time to learn," the Faerie king breathed. "Why don't you unfasten your father's pants?" He pinched and tugged on Laele's little nipples, then slowly roamed downwards until his hand was grazing her thighs. Almost less than an inch from reaching her sensitive flesh between her legs, from touching her where her father's tongue had been not long ago. The Fae around her watched in awe as if it was something of a spectacle, and perhaps it was.
When did you get to see a Fae's sexual awakening, let alone one as special as Laele?
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It didn't seem like he was, now.
"Uhm..." She was, despite all the honey on her tongue and tingles along her skin, tempted to refuse. But when her father got closer she closed her mouth; as if knowing she was missing something, even if she didn't know what it was. Refusal could be trouble. Was it within her rights? Would they turn on them? The thought worried her because she knew nothing about Fae, but she didn't want to cause trouble for her father.
So she leaned forward a bit-- as much as she could get with those hands skimming her, threatening to touch her sensitive bits in ways that made her squirm and tried to focus on him. Soft hands tugging lightly at his belt, struggling a bit because of the weight that relied on it-- bags, items, sword-- but eventually unfastening it. Then pulling the laces of his breeches open, prying them apart a little at a time, focused gaze directed entirely at him till she could get them open. The front sliding down just a bit, making Laele flush a little, looking up at Richard, unsure, as if asking him for guidance.
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He looked down at his cute little girl as she began to fumble with his belt. It wasn't an easy job, but she managed her best. The bulge in his trousers had been there since the Fairy woman had played with him, but she knew enough by this point to understand he wasn't fully hard... and yet when his daughter reached out to him, the bulge grew. Perhaps it was because his member had been expecting the contact and was belatedly responding to it, thinking the delicate hand that reached to expose him was another woman's, or perhaps it was because he was already imagining his daughter's hand on his shaft. Or, more salaciously yet, perhaps his body was reacting automatically to her. Perhaps he was already keyed to grow, stiffen, throb as his daughter brushed his skin.
She had a difficult time undoing his pants and ended up having to lean forward to work at it. When his underclothes were half-revealed, the bulge now clearly defined under the fabric and straining to get out, she paused, flushed, looked up to him.
She had reason to do it besides her nervousness, anyway: the growing member underneath her lap had been angled by her forward lean to the point where it was now almost bending between her cheeks, grinding slowly as its angle equalized, along her slit and then backwards, grazing over her little asshole, threatening to pierce in (why did it feel like it was on her bare skin all of a sudden, not her clothes?) but it finally sprung back. The Fairy King's cock ended up between her cheeks, sandwiched and then firm against her lower back. She could feel a shiver go through the man rubbing her inner thighs, his fingers grazing closer and closer.
Richard stared at his daughter for a long time. Looking deep into her eyes and feeling his own gaze soften. He reached out a hand, using his rough palm to pat Laele's head. Slowly, he nodded.
"Take it out."
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Her throat worked, once, twice, before she nodded. Little wisps of white hair sticking to her cheeks and tumbling into curls, framing the face that stared up for perhaps a moment too long before sliding back down. Looking at the straining fabric she blew out a breath, the half-familiar smell meeting her from being so close. She knew him better than any, as her father and constant companion since she left the monastery. Reaching out she gripped the edges, gently tugging against it, slowly easing it out of the way and allowing that thick length to spring out in front of her.
She had done something like this before, hadn't she?
Soft hands wrapped around the base, angling the head toward herself, a breath tight and high to steel herself before she started stroking him. Soft, nervous, gentle at first but it didn't take long for her to find an easy rhythm. It wasn't normal, not yet, but she could manage it better than most would in her position. Plush pinks parting, pressing against the tip as she strained to push him in a bit. It still felt odd, but she was better equipped to do it than many. Allowing herself to suckle at the end delicately, little swipes of a soft tongue attempting to be attentive-- attempting, perhaps, to ease his mind. Maybe with it her own. Those little ripples of her power, that gentle echo, already beginning to creep along the room.
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The man was talking again. His honeyed tongue, Richard was discovering, had a way of ferreting out what Richard least wanted him to say. "So beautiful," he cooed. "That last moment before a pair steps over the boundary. No way of going back after that, I'm afraid. The liminal threshold is a fragile one." The sigh he blew out was echoed around the assembly and Richard flicked his gaze sideways for just a moment, long enough to see that he wasn't the only one feeling tense. Around the group of fairies, almost all eyes were on the king, on the hunter and his daughter. They were waiting with bated breath for the next step in whatever play they were partaking in. He looked back to match Laele's gaze. One final nod.
Laele reached forward.
Richard sucked in a breath as his cock sprang out, revealed to the onlookers by his daughter's dark, soft hands. The fairies, those that weren't involved in their own kinds of games, made encouraging noises and leaned in even more. His member throbbed there in the summer air, thick and tense as he felt. His knees shook as she began to slowly pump him. Richard felt as if he was floating on something: he closed his eyes to savor the moment and so was utterly unprepared for the feeling of his daughter's soft, wet lips on his glistening pink cockhead. The hunter let out a gasp amid encouraging words from the fairies surrounding them and clenched his hand in his daughter's hair. "Laele," he breathed, and shook as her deft little tongue began to play with him.
Richard didn't have the awareness in him at the moment to notice, but as Laele had begun to tend to him, her unique power was beginning to take effect. Ripples of lust spread out from her and seemed to have an even stronger effect on the fairies than they had on humans so far: fairies were already fidgeting, giggling, gasping in pleasure. More than one female fairy had slipped her fingers to her already-damp undergarments and more than one male had released his uncomfortable tent. The Fairy King himself, although seemingly still in possession of his senses, grinned deeply. "Perfect," he whispered, and ground his cock into Laele's soft back.
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She made a small grunting noise at the feel of the grind, but other than that, it seemed the King wasn't privy to much more of her attention in that moment. Instead allowing herself to work against the tip, hands sliding down to allow her mouth a little more space. It was clear she'd probably not fit all of him without a great deal more work, but that didn't mean she had entirely forgotten her lessons. The tip already dripping with saliva as she worked over what she could fit, hands spreading that wetness downward, touching every inch she couldn't tuck away into her mouth.
It wasn't a curious swallowing of his shaft like he might have gotten from the Fae woman, but there was no missing the slow, almost loving ministration. Careful touches and closely watching eyes, making sure each reaction was a good reaction. Working her way back and forth she fell into a small pace with the help of his hands. Working herself over every bit she could fit, ignoring the small dribbles of wetness already running down her chin. Inexperience left her more messy than most, but that didn't stop those soft pink lips from gliding along his shaft, sucking here or there, her cheeks hollowing out a bit as her eyes fluttered closed. Trying her best to focus back on him, even if it wasn't the same as earlier.
The crowd felt it too, lulled into a slow, building pleasure, little shocks of satisfaction following as he nudged to the back of her mouth. She seemed to at least be allowing herself to enjoy it, or perhaps was being accidentally overtaken by the echo of his own pleasure as it tingled through her body. Either way, she had fallen in tune with him, and thus, some of the worry and fear left her features. Instead succumbing to easier instincts, filling her mouth with more of him at every chance.
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Richard was enraptured. His little daughter suckled on his cock and pushed him slowly, tantalizingly slowly... deeper. She was making a mess, the poor girl, her saliva mixing with his precum and dripping from her overstuffed mouth. She wasn't practiced, but she was learning. Learning at an honestly astonishing rate: although Richard wasn't voiceless and certainly his "tells" were discernible (a hitched breath as her tongue slid over his head, his grip on her hair tightening when she sucked on him and slid slowly back along his shaft) there was no reason she should know exactly where his sweet spots were after traveling over them just once.
It was a theme that the Fairy King seemed to be counting on, for as her focus narrowed he whispered hot against her ear to encourage her. "That's what makes you so special, my sweet," he told her. "Focus on your father's feelings. Like you were staring into the reflection on a pond, dip your face in. Become one with it. Embrace what makes you, you." The King's fingers, smooth and soft, dipped between the little girl's legs as he pushed her gently forward. Taking up every inch of her possible retreat so she just had to accept more of her father's hard cock into her mouth. His fingers slid slowly, tantalizingly down... and sent a jolt through her body when they touched her clit. "Focus," he told her again.
"Good girl," Richard breathed, looking down at his daughter as she blew him. At her pretty face that he was dirtying. It was all he could do not to take her delicate face and jam his cock down her throat. To pump his cum into her as her eyes fluttered wide.
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Swallowing a mess of pre and saliva she tried to stop herself from running from that feeling. She had grown so used to that, but she couldn't now, and knew it would only get worse if she continued to strain away from it. Sighing she took in another half-inch, his cock head pressing to the back of her throat as she stared up like a doll, or perhaps a half-fae girl slipping into a trance. The approval was the only thing to get a reaction after that, a fluttering of eyelashes as she beamed up at him. Her tongue swiping at him, and soon he'd feel that pull stronger than before. The sensation of her magic creeping along his skin along with hers. The pleasure of fingers on her clit somehow being played out along his skin, a strong pulse of pleasure climbing up from his cock.
She listened in, not just with her ears, but with that inexperienced magic. Feeling every little hitch of pleasure when she did this or that, every echo that played back through her, and made sure to do it again. Mixing all the pleasure together, her own along with his, picking up the pace as her mouth slid up and down his shaft, dribbling onto the floor below them without a care. Inching him as deep as she could before pulling back with a wet pop, mouth smearing the tip before she drew him back in. Sucking him deep again and repeating the process, teasing every little spot that she had learned. Knowing now just how he wanted to be pleased in this moment, and more so, allowing herself to do it.
The little push easing her into the proper state, enchanted by the feel of him in her mouth, continuing to pump and suckle on him as it readily turned the fae around them into a complete mess. There was no resisting the pulse of magic now, overflowing as she eagerly lapped up every little pre before drowning herself down back onto his cock like it was becoming second nature. Perhaps it was.
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Richard looked down with a rare amount of tenderness in his eyes, clearly understanding just how much of herself his daughter was devoting to fulfilling his needs, and more--to making sure he felt good. He found he couldn't say much at all through the thick knot of his throat as he looked down at the happy expression on his daughter's pretty, white-framed face. She was driving him wild, whether she understood it or not: little jolts of electric warmth were jittering through his cock and into his core, little pulses that seemed vaguely in time with the way her own body was being touched. It was a faint, fuzzy sort of feeling yet, but that was fine with him: otherwise he might not have been able to hold on at all. As it was Richard was struggling to keep the rising tide of his orgasm from overflowing. His fingers ran through his daughter's hair as his breathing caught and hitched and came much, much more quickly.
Although Richard was holding on as best he could, it seemed like Laele was dissolving the minds of the faeries around them. What had begun as a relatively relaxed, easy bout of foreplay had become a complete mess. Traveling out from her were those shockwaves of pleasure and they were turning their onlookers into an almost mindless pile. All pretense had been abandoned and with it, a great deal of delicacy: in complete departure from the way the fairies had been gently teasing each other, now they were fumbling, almost uncoordinated in their attempts to sate their lusts. Wet lips wrapped around stiff erections and tasted them sloppily while hands furiously worked to shed clothing and press inwards. Already moans and gasps were filling the air, and Laele had just begun.
How powerful would she become?
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It felt so good to make him feel good, in every sense. She fell into it like she was sinking in quicksand, yet didn't want to be saved. Legs tensing around the King's hand, she didn't try to stop him as she had before, instead using that fuel to add to the fire. Like gasoline tossed into a forest fire, nothing was going to stop until he finished. It became abundantly clear as her movements became a little more messy, more enchanted. Mouth opening, tongue slipping out as she struggled to fit more of him, gagging and yet not stopping as she continued to work over the tip and the shaft. Pumping firmly as she moaned gently against the thick weight on her tongue, sending a ripple of pleasure through the area.
It seemed she'd gone beyond simply wanting to satisfy him, to enjoying it, to needing it. Not unlike she had been when she was struggling to walk through the ache in her legs, it seemed there was something about Richard that let her fall apart and welcome the pleasure instead of run from it-- and he was getting the brunt of it. In every pleasurable way possible. The pleasure spreading, not just from his cock but to every inch of his body as she stared up, cheeks bulging a little as she tried to stuff more of him inside, wet from the small bit of attention she was getting alone.
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Wanton screams and moans came from all around them as the group descended into mindless pleasure. Cocks, fingers and anything at hand were being pressed into every available orifice. Tongues licked sloppily amidst drooling mouths while hips pumped mindlessly away. Everywhere there were scenes of complete and total abandon: at one end of the dining table food had been hastily cleared away to make available enough space for a couple to rut. Without pretense or thought a male fairy came from behind the two and forced himself into the woman on top, who herself seemed barely aware of it happening. A faerie woman had been lifted aloft by an unsteady few and was fairly skewered on their cocks as she struggled to keep herself aloft with beating wings. Everywhere fairies seemed to be engaging with wild abandon, picking simply whoever was close to hand without concern for age, gender or existing involvement. Two men pressed together, both thrusting into a single closed fist as they ground against one another. A teenage boy bent in ecstasy as he held an older woman's mouth to his groin. Wet, sloppy and sticky sounds echoed amidst moans and gasps.
The first hint Laele had that she'd made her father lose control came in the form of his grip tightening and a short, sharp tug. She found her mouth stuffed more full of her daddy's cock than it ever had been before--so overfull that she could hardly help but choke. She only found room to breathe when he pulled out but even that was only in service of thrusting back into her. He pulled her head down and thrust in, pulled back, thrust in, pulled back... using her like she was a toy. Like he was fucking straight through the core of the little slime, as if he could use his daughter like a fucktoy in the same way. Brief gasps and pants of her name poured out of his mouth as he reached the end of his endurance.
As if that wasn't enough, the Faerie King upped his assault on her clit at the very same time. Driving her almost unquestioningly towards orgasm, he breathed in her ear: "Relax as best you can. Let him use you. Focus on your own feelings and draw everything into your core, every little bit of warmth and heat, build it up like a spring..."
"Then let go."
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She tried not to focus on the choking sensation, even with her own pleasure, but it wasn't easy, and it took her a bit-- not that it stopped the messy sounds or even messier sensations that flowed out. But as he began to tense, to push deeper, she found herself drawing more and more of the surrounding pleasure in, letting her mind center on it, to focus on the way it built inside of her. Like the time she had tried to fill a waterskin only to have the river tug the entire thing away with as much as the pressure hit the back. But she held it tight, like a knot in her chest, memories of her father's mouth feeding it even more as fingers tickled and touched her, leaving her dripping as he once again shoved in.
Her eyes slid up, watching the strain on his face as she felt herself fill, the sensations filling up every bit of her body till she was tingling from her nose to the tips of her toes with magic and overwhelming pleasure. The only warning he'd get was a desperate, tight whimper and a bow of her back as she couldn't hold it anymore, and like the waterskin, it got away from her. The burst is like an emotional shockwave, hitting those closest hardest, but no one seemed to be safe from it. If the messy, desperate, gasping sounds were anything to go by. Her own body shuddering as she came with so little contact, making an absolute mess between her legs as she desperately swallowed down her Father's cock.
It seems there was no getting away from it for him for now, she needed to be filled, and instincts were ruling her every action. Shoving forward and stuffing him as deep as she could take him, desperate, needy, and unwilling to let him go till she was stuffed full. Though, if it was anything like before, the group-- and poor Richard-- would need to suffer a multitude of orgasms before Laele could even gain control of herself. But it was far, far too late to worry about that now.
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And then Laele surged forward, shoving him as deep as she could take him. Far deeper than he'd imagined.
And the wave hit him.
Richard held her head there, leaning over her petite body as he struggled to keep his legs from buckling. He gasped out, almost insensibly, fighting for air as his eyes squeezed shut. "Laele," he groaned, a deep shuddering gasp that seemed to go through his whole body as he came. He'd orgasmed before, many times, but this was something more than that. It was a shaking quiver that ran through his entire figure, from his toes to his fingers. It was all he could do to stand there, swaying, riding out the surging wave of his and Laele's pleasure. His cock throbbed and pulsed in her mouth and his cum went rushing down her throat, little droplets and strings escaping her mouth as a particularly hard spurt came too quick for her to swallow. Her father's sticky cum drenched her throat and her stomach as he gasped, holding onto her tight, almost demanding she swallow every last bit.
The King seemed to have better control of his senses, but only just: warm shots of his cum painted the girl's dark skin on her back as he shivered and let out higher-pitched gasps. Between his haze he was able to say: "take that energy that's surging around you right now. Breathe it... hh... in. Make it yours." She could feel it: all around her, amplified by the dozens of shivering and shaking piles surrounding them, energy swirled. It was intoxicating.
"Take it in until you're full."
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Perhaps he was playing too dangerous of a game, it was hard to tell because there wasn't just one burst-- but echoes of it, like ripples in a pond. Spreading out from her again, and again, and again. Forcing the fae around her through one orgasm after another, much like the woman in the waterway they had to endure pleasure like a marathon-- her father caught up, or perhaps the source, of all of it. The tide rushed in, out, in, out, like the world was fast-forwarding-- till even the most stalwart of the gathered Fae was panting and barely able to form proper words past the orgasms. There was no escaping them, even those who managed to break free of their partners were forced to orgasm on their own, no stimulation even needed as she pushed them through each wave without a second thought.
Only when she was able to get a breath was she able to slow it some, drawing it all in, filling herself with a sort of magical energy that was rolling off of everyone in spades. Deep inside, bundling against her core as she sapped more and more from the room. Finally allowing them rest as they laid about, a giant quivering mass of magic and cum, her own body a little limp and dazed as her eyes opened back up. Trailing up to him as eventually, his cock popped out of her mouth, half-saliva mixed cum oozing down her chin and dripping down as she caught her breath, lips pink and almost bruised, mouth agape as if she didn't have the energy to close it. Slowly... two soft hands reaching up, reaching for him wordlessly, though her eyes said it all.
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All around them the little wooded glade was a mess. Here and there food had been pushed off the tables but in some places the faeries hadn't had enough time or sensibility: they'd rutted on top of bowls of fruit or rolled into platters of exotic meats. None were still flying: all had, without a single exception, lost the coordination to do so much as hover. Wings beat weakly around the scene as chests rose and fell unsteadily. Some had been hit by the waves while still wrapped up in each other but many had slid free; however, even outside of their partners' warm embraces the assault hadn't let up. Sticky fluids decorated almost every single individual in attendance, inside and out. Several had simply passed out while others blinked weakly and tried to focus on something.
That something, for Richard, ended up being Laele. He looked down just as she looked up and they met eyes, a tender moment shared as she slowly slid off his cock. She looked as exhausted as he did but in a decidedly different way. He didn't know what it meant yet, not really, but he answered to the nonverbal request even as she made it. He reached down and pulled his little girl up, although his own unsteadiness caused the hunter to fall right back onto his rump. He sat there, breathing heavily, crushing his daughter to his chest in the warmest, tightest and most exhausted hug he'd ever given her. Ever given anyone, perhaps. "Shhh," he managed to say with the last reserves of his strength. Even speech felt like an effort. "That's a good girl. That's my good girl," he praised her, warm ripples still brushing him now and then. He hugged her tight.
"This is your power," a voice whispered on the wind. "Make it your own."
Richard looked up and blinked once, twice: the fae glen was gone, and in its place was the forest they'd wandered through... was it really only an hour ago? The slime burbled softly as it slid up to them and joined their hug. Perhaps he would have pushed it away in another situation, but he didn't have the energy. And it wasn't so bad to hold both of them.
"My Laele," he murmured. "You did a good job. I'm proud of you."