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Our Father	By : WhiteWinter Category: +A through F > Corruption of Champions Views: 9295 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Corruption of Champions or any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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          – Weeks later –

          Rebecc already has an early baby bump swelling in her once-flat tummy, proof that your virile seed has done its job. Kylie’s belly has grown even larger as well. With two new children on the way, you’re realizing more and more that your small, makeshift campsite guarding the portal isn’t really fit for housing your family of broodmares and their always-growing broods. How many are there now?

          . . . There’s your gold-feathered and platinum-haired harpy bimbo Sophie, your heavily-pregnant daughter Kylie, as well as your second unborn harpy daughter – or is it granddaughter? – soon inbound,

          . . . There’s your corrupted, curvaceous, brown-haired, purple-furred mouse-slut Amily and her litter of three girls and one boy: Averie, Alaya, Natalia, and Kian, who all have your gray eyes and all are still young and still breastfeed,

          . . . Then there’s your begrudging and oft-griping succubus servant Vapula, who is overdue for another “lesson,”

          . . . And, lastly, you have your chained and newly-expectant sheep-girl Rebecc.

          It’s already a big family, and it’s only going to get bigger. And those in your camp here aren’t your only wives and children. You’ve also got your smaller family over at . . . actually, come to think of it, the farm of your dog-wife Whitney would be a perfect home for you. It’s got plenty of space for your children to play and plenty of ways for your wives to keep themselves busy whenever you’re away. Corrupting Whitney and warping her mind to obey your will was one of your earliest acts after you’d let the corruption overtake you, and she’d now gladly let you make her farm officially yours. Your centaur broodmare-wife Kelly will be overjoyed as well, and her twin foals, Cain and Hannah, your youngest children, will be able to spend as much time with their father as they please.

          There’s no good reason to stay here. You’ve been hesitant towards the thought of leaving this place for a long time now, but no, not anymore. Making camp here and defending this portal is a fucking worthless endeavor. What’s the point of it? To ward off demons from a portal that you’re not even sure could ever be activated from this side? To keep safe a village you haven’t called home for years? To protect the people you used to know, to protect those who were a part of your old life? No, your old family will just have to fend for themselves. You’ve got a new family to look after, and a crude camp of tents, bedrolls, and nests won’t suffice for them. They deserve better, and you’ll give them better.

          You have Kylie and Vapula fly the heavy trunk filled with your possessions over to the farm first, and according to Kylie, Whitney was thrilled to hear that you’d decided to make her farm your new home. With that out of the way, you gather your family – including Rebecc, who you un-chain and gag and throw some clothes on to make her decent for the children – and you do a head count to make sure everyone is present. Vapula, Kylie, Sophie, Rebecc, Amily, Averie, Alaya, Natalia, Kian, uh-huh, everyone’s here. Looking at them now, they form a pretty smooth gradient of heights. The tallest of them, Kylie, stands at six-foot-four, Sophie at six-foot-three, Vapula six-foot-one, Rebecc five-foot-seven, Amily five-foot-two, and your little mouselings all stand below four feet. They’re all dressed in clean, makeshift clothes freshly washed in the nearest river, or, at least, everyone but Sophie, but that was one fight that you just couldn’t win. “I just, like, suffocate in that stuff,” she’d told you once. Considering how often she’s holding one of your little ones to her teat, you decided to let her be nude and have her way, just this once. That and the fact that her crotch-feathers do a fairly good enough job of hiding her cunt and keeping her decent.

          After you gather everyone’s attention with a sharp, echoing snap of your fingers, you tell them point-blank, “We’re moving.”

          Sophie, Amily and your mouselings all burst into cheers at the news, and as you watch your little ones jump with joy, you can’t help but feel a little excited yourself.

          “Where are we going, hubby?” Amily asks you eagerly as Alaya and Averie jump up and down beside her legs, their mouse-tails happily whipping about and lashing back and forth.

          “Whitney’s farm,” you answer. “Over on the lakeside.”

          “Thank the Gods,” Vapula mutters, and you certainly agree with that sentiment.

          Rebecc watches you intently as you speak, clearly paying attention to your words. You’re sure she’s wondering if she’ll have the good fortune of not being chained in a cave again after the move.

          When Sophie, Amily, and the little ones quiet themselves, you then explain, “We’re leaving today, at midday, and we’re travelling light. Don’t bother bringing anything you don’t absolutely need. It’ll be a two-hour long walk, and the sooner we get going, the sooner we’ll be there.”

          “Daddy,” Kylie says, drawing your eyes to her as she points her finger back and forth between herself and Vapula. “Wouldn’t it be quicker if we flew everyone there, one at a time?”

          “It probably would be, sweetie,” you tell her with a smile. “And that’s good thinking, but I don’t trust flying the little ones. I don’t like the thought of dangling them over the earth – so we’ll walk together.” You whip your head to Vapula and glare at her as you then say, “All of us.”

          Vapula throws her gaze up at the sky and groans. You’re sure she would’ve liked to simply fly to the farm herself, but that won’t be happening. You need her.

          . . .

          Midday comes a few hours later, and you gather everyone again and do one last head-count before you and your group start out towards the lake.

          Vapula stays in flight overhead, keeping her head on a swivel and watching in every direction for any possible attackers, that and to stay ready to swiftly re-capture Rebecc if she dares to make a mad dash and run for freedom, which you’re confident she won’t.

          Amily and Sophie walk at the rear of the group, both holding Averie and Natalia against their chests, the two girls' mouths latched tightly onto their mothers' teats, their snubbed mouse-noses pressed into soft breast-flesh as they suckle and fill their hungry bellies. You walk at the front with Kylie directly by your side, who clasps her fingers through yours with one hand and pets her massively-pregnant belly with the other. Rebecc walks in the middle of your convoy. Kian and Alaya never stay in any one position for long but are always in arm’s reach, floating back and forth from you to their mothers.

          The hard, red rocks of the wasteland soon fade into the green, grassy earth of the lakeside. If nothing else, your new home will at least be much easier on the eyes, and knowing how often you yourself are out and about, your feet will be grateful for the soft grass.

          Averie and Natalia spend most of the trip breastfeeding, Averie from Amily’s breasts and Natalia from Sophie’s. As usual, Sophie treats Natalia as though she had birthed the mouse-girl herself, cooing to the happily-drinking girl just as sweetly as she did when she breastfed Kylie. As frustrating as your ditzy bird-bitch wife can often be, she’s a good, loving mother, and if nothing else, you’ll always have respect for that part of her.

          Kian and Alaya spend a long while marveling over the gagged Rebecc and poking her baby bump with curious fingers, which Rebecc takes with a surprising grace, and though it was only out of the corner of your eye, you could swear that you saw Rebecc ruffle Kian’s hair.

          “When is the new baby coming, Daddy?” Alaya asks you with a faint and adorable lisp – which’ll be gone before long. Kylie had a lisp when she was young too, but she’s perfectly well-spoken now.

          “Soon,” you answer without looking to her.

          “What will it be like?”

          “I don’t exactly know, sweetie.”

          “Will it be nice?”

          “Hopefully.”

          “Will it be smart?”

          “Maybe.”

          “It can’t be any dumber than Alaya,” Kian remarks snidely, and that draws a scowl from her.

          Kylie whips her head towards her little brother. “Don’t talk like that,” Kylie scolds him. “She’s your sister.”

          “So?” Kian asks with a “cool kid” shrug.

          You look to him over your shoulder. “‘So,’ how many times do I have to tell you to treat your siblings well?” you ask him tiredly.

          He avoids your gaze and stares at the ground.

          “Look at me, Kian,” you command him sternly, and he obeys. “I know it’s fun to be mean,” you tell him, speaking clearly and carefully. “But save it for people outside the family. Okay?”

          His rounded mouse-ears perk up at that. “Okay!” he says cheerfully with a happy nod, and he starts skipping about with a spring in his step.

          For her part, Rebecc spends most of the trip staring wistfully up at the cloudless sky as she walks. She occasionally pets the baby bump on her tummy, but not with even half the motherly love Kylie does with hers. But you’re not worried. Rebecc is the first lover that you’re letting come to her senses completely of her own accord, without corrupting her, mind-warping her, or force-feeding her a bottle of Bimbo Liqueur, and you know full well that it’ll be a process. A slow process. It’ll take time. Baby steps.

          “Kylie, hold your siblings’ hands,” you command her as you release her. You slow your pace a bit until you’ve lagged back enough to stride shoulder-to-shoulder with Rebecc. Kylie smiles to Kian and Alaya as she takes their hands, and Alaya lovingly rests her head against her big sister’s hip as they walk.

          You pull Rebecc’s gag from her mouth and take the long flask of water from your belt. “Thirsty?” you ask.

          “Yes,” she answers quietly.

          You hand her the flask. She takes a few heavy gulps before you snatch it out of her grip. “Easy now,” you say to her. “Leave enough for everyone else. We’ve got a whole thirsty family here, remember?”

          “Sorry,” she mumbles.

          You walk next to Rebecc in silence for a minute, choosing your words carefully before you speak again.

          “We’re a close-knit bunch,” you muse with a slow, thoughtful nod. You point to Kylie in front of you and say, “You see Kylie up there? She loves Kian and Alaya like they were born of the same womb. Averie and Natalia, too. They’re important to her. She cares about them. And you know who taught her to do that? Me. I taught her to love them and I taught them to love her back. I did what all good fathers do. I taught them the importance of family.”

          You take a swig from the flask before screwing its lid back on and fastening it against your belt.

          “Listen, Rebecc,” you say as you cross your arms over your chest, and she turns to you and meets your eyes. “You can call me what you want. ‘Corrupted.’ ‘Rapist.’ ‘Monster.’ And maybe I am all those things, but I love my family. I love them to death. I would die for my children, Rebecc. My family is everything to me. . . and you’re a part of that family now. And maybe it doesn’t feel like it to you yet, I understand, but when you birth that baby, when you hold it in your arms, when you see it playing with the other children, when you see the kind of home I’ll be giving it, I think you’ll realize that I’m giving you a good life. A life that’s more than worth living.”

          You’d intended to lie through your teeth when you started talking with Rebecc, but, as it went on, you realized that everything you said was true. You do love your family, all of them, even the most frustrating and dim-witted of your lovers, and you would die for your children.

          Your words seem to weigh heavy on Rebecc, and her blue, dewy eyes flitter across yours. She opens her mouth to speak, but a high-pitched whistle from Vapula in the sky above stops her and takes your attention.

          “Kylie, stop!” you shout to her, and she halts in her tracks as she looks back to you. You hurry up to her and stand beside her and her siblings. You hold your hand over your brow, blocking the harsh sun and letting you see clearer down the grassy field. Sure enough, a trio of short, red-skinned imps all sporting obscenely large and needy erections come into your view. The talons on Kylie’s feet subconsciously flex and tap into the earth beneath them as the instincts you drilled into her start kicking in.

          Spotting your family of curvaceous, breast-feeding mothers to abuse and young children to victimize, the imps’ well-hung cocks jump to attention and twitch eagerly as their faces all take on malicious grins, but a moment later, their grins vanish when they look to you and recognize you. You raise one hand and prepare to snap your fingers, and at that, the imps promptly turn and sprint away, running for their lives.

          “Aww,” Sophie groans and pouts her lips, still holding the suckling Natalia in her arms. “Why’d you, like, scare them off?” she gripes. “Did you see their cocks? They were, like, swinging at the knees! They would’ve been so much fun. We could’ve, like, had a nice, big, gangba—”

          —Crack! You silence Sophie with a sharp slap across her face, which elicits a series of giggles from your young ones, including Natalia, who breaks her lip-seal on Sophie’s nipple to laugh, sputtering white milk over herself as she does so. A half-smile even crooks around Kylie’s lips, ever-so-slightly amused by your punishing of her mother. Rebecc looks from Sophie’s burning-red cheek to your young ones with a strong confusion in her eyes. You bet she’d never expect to see children burst into laughter from the striking of their mother whose very breasts they frequently feed from.

          “Children,” you hiss at Sophie between gritted teeth. How could she be so stupid as to suggest a gangbang when your little ones are around? Not to mention that you must’ve told this dumb slut ten, no, a hundred, no, a thousand times that the only man that will be between her legs from now until the end of time will be you. Why can’t she be good? Why can’t she be like her fucking daughter? You’re seething with rage now, but your anger slightly abates when you think you can actually see the slow, rusty gears in Sophie’s head turning as she realizes the error of her ways.

          “I’m sorry, hubby,” Sophie says. “You’re right, I totally wasn’t, like, thinking about the little ones,” she concedes as she looks down to Natalia, who has now returned to happily suckling her mother’s teat.

          You only barely manage to tear your fiery glare away from Sophie, and you wet your thumb with your tongue and wipe the dribble of milk off of Natalia’s furry chin. She looks up at you with innocent eyes when she feels your touch. “Sweet girl,” you coo to her. Natalia smiles up at you, and you sigh as the last of your anger fades.

          With that, you resume your journey.

          The last half-hour is uneventful, thankfully, and you find your dog-woman Whitney, your centauress Kelly, and your young centaur children Hannah and Cain all waiting to welcome you and the rest of their new family at the edge of the farm’s grounds.

          Whitney is somewhat short-standing, similar to Amily, and she isn’t curvaceous. She’s fit and slender, and her mostly sandy-colored fur darkens to a dusky black at the farthest of each of her limbs. Her muzzle is very similar to a golden retriever’s, and her dark-brown eyes match the color of her shoulder-length hair. She’s wearing her usual outfit of a simple cotton blouse and long skirt, the latter of which has a small hole cut into it to allow her short, often-wagging dog-tail to poke through.

          Kelly, despite being a centaur with the bottom half of a horse below her human navel, stands no taller than you – your young centaur son Cain already nears her height – and thus you’d say Kelly is more half-pony than half-horse. Her long, chestnut-brown hair is weaved into a single braid that she lets rest on her left shoulder, and her emerald-green eyes always glitter when they look to you. She’s incredibly feminine. Her lips are plump and womanly, and her large breasts swell out her modest, checkered shirt. She wears nothing on her bottom horse-half, but her resting tail usually obscures her puckered asshole and equine cunt, keeping her decent. Though their eyes are the same shade of gray as yours, Hannah and Cain share the brown color of their mother’s hair, and Hannah braids her hair just as Kelly does.

          They all greet you joyously, and thanks to their centaur stature, you don’t have to drop on your knees to take Hannah and Cain into a big, loving group hug. You introduce Averie, Alaya, Natalia, and Kian to Hannah and Cain, and you give a fatherly chuckle when your centaur foals gladly allow your mouselings to ride atop them as they dash around the farm. Centaur culture dictates that allowing a person to ride them is humiliating, but that’s always struck you as stupid and closed-minded, and you made sure that Kelly knew to teach your children different. If anything, having an ally ride their back has many practical uses. Though most people probably wouldn’t think it, as you look to your children playing together, you firmly believe you are a positive influence in their lives.

          With your children safely out of earshot – but still safely in sight – you ungag Rebecc and look over each of your wives. “Now, most of you here have done these before,” you tell them. “‘The Five Vows.’ I believe everyone but Kylie and Rebecc has said them, but I don’t care, you’re all going to say them again. So, down on one knee, all of you.”

          They all comply. Kylie, Sophie, Amily, Whitney, Kelly, and even Vapula and Rebecc each quickly drop to one knee, though Kelly – being a centaur – kneels a bit awkwardly. But they’re all still looking to you, and that’s not what you desire. It’s not submissive enough.

          “Bow your heads,” you command them.

          They obey.

          “Now, repeat after me,” you tell them, your voice stern and heavy with the tone of authority.

          The First Vow. “‘I swear myself to you.’”

          “I swear myself to you,” they all say in near-perfect unison.

          The Second Vow. “‘I swear to do as you bid when you bid it.’”

          “I swear to do as you bid when you bid it.”

          The Third Vow. “‘I swear to sate you when you seek it.’”

          “I swear to sate you when you seek it.”

          The Fourth Vow. “‘You are my one and only husband.’”

          “You are my one and only husband.”

          The Fifth Vow. “‘You and your children are my life, now and forever.’”

          “You and your children are my life, now and forever.”

          You nod, satisfied. “Good. You can stand.”

          They did well, and they all said the vows with their own individual flavor. Kylie said it sweetly and demurely, Sophie said it dopily, Amily said it subserviently, Kelly said it eagerly, Whitney said it in her cute country drawl, and Rebecc said it hesitantly and uncertainly. Vapula said it with an edge of anger and bitterness, but that doesn’t displease you. Having a wife that’s somewhat openly defiant against you is a much-needed change of pace. She always obeys you in the end, anyways, and it pleases you to see her futilely irritated with being bound to you.

          They all rise to their feet, and you watch Rebecc in particular for her reaction. She looks attentive to whatever your next words will be. She seems almost. . . obedient. Is she finally trying to gain your favor? Regardless, you think you’ll have her spend her nights locked in the cellar of the farmhouse, at least until she births her first child. You don’t trust her, not yet, and the only person who can start changing that is her.

          With the Five Vows out of the way, it’s time to assign everyone their duties.

          Firstly, you tell them, “As you swore in your vows, everyone with a pussy will sate me whenever I desire, at the very moment I desire you. Day or night, tired or not, you will open your legs to me,” you pause and raise your right hand for added effect before adding, “At the snap of my fingers.”

          Sophie, Amily, Whitney, and Kelly, the most mindless and sycophantic of your followers, are all overjoyed to hear this. “I’m so glad you’re here, hun!” Whitney cries out in her usual country twang as her short doggie tail wags furiously behind her. When she speaks, you remember that, with Kylie having one on the way, Whitney is one of only two here – aside from Vapula, who is another story entirely – who you still have not bred. Sometime soon you’ll need to get around to giving the woman her first child.

          You turn to her and declare to her, “Whitney, you and Kelly will convert the empty barns into homes with bedrooms as soon as possible. I want everyone in this family to have a room for themselves. And whenever you two aren’t doing that, I want you working the crops. There’s a lot of hungry mouths to feed and it’s only going to get worse from here on out.”

          “Amily, Sophie, you’ll be the primary caretakers. You’ll be the ones responsible for looking after my children, bathing them, showing them how to walk and talk, teaching them to know to obey me and only me and to know that my word is law and final. You’ve both done it at least once before, and you’re going to do it many more times in the future. And I want you to pump yourselves with the farm’s milkers.” Your gaze hardens as you add gravely, “It is absolutely crucial for you to use those milkers. Someday very soon the hungry mouths are going to far outnumber the available tits to suckle.”

          “Vapula, Kylie, you’ll be the farm’s official ‘watchwomen.’ Your wings make you best suited for watching over the boundaries of the farm and making sure no wandering undesirables step foot on my land. You both have my permission to kill anyone who you think poses a danger to our family.” That last remark gives Vapula a giddy, malicious thrill, and it even seems to give Kylie some amount of excitement. She’s never taken a life before, but you're confident that she'll be able to do it if it comes down to defending her beloved brothers and sisters. As much as you wish she could stay innocent from deadly violence forever, in this world, that just can’t be the case.

          “Rebecc,” you say as you look to her, and you can see and hear her swallow a nervous gulp. “Whenever the time comes that you decide you can be more than a girl with a pussy for me to fuck, when you can start pulling your weight in this family and be a mother to my children, then you can help Whitney and Kelly tend to the crops, just like you did at Owca.” Rebecc blushes with shame at your nonchalant reference to her genitals, but she doesn’t take her eyes from yours. “You’ll work in the fields at your own pace,” you add, and then you sweep your eyes over all your wives. “I’m not going to work anyone here like a slave,” you tell them. “I’m not a slavemaster. I’m a father.”

          “As for the little ones,” you add as you turn to your children playing down by the farmhouse, “I want them treated like queens and kings. Entertain them. Keep them happy. I want them to enjoy their childhoods as much as they can. Gods know I never got that chance,” you muse with a rueful shake of your head. “When the time comes, after they’re grown, I’ll show my girls how to be mothers and I’ll show my boys how to be fathers.”

          With those last few words in mind, you start daydreaming of having your boys accompany you on your abduction runs. That’d be quite the father-sons bonding opportunity, wouldn’t it? You and Kian riding in and out of Tel’Adre on Cain’s back with a bound-and-gagged girl riding with you. It wouldn’t be too hard to help your boys gather harems of their own. They’re your sons, after all, and you know they deserve nothing less than having their own whores to please them whenever they desire it. Maybe someday soon your farm will evolve into a little family-village in its own right, a village that you’ll be the mayor of. It’s fun to dream of, at least.

          “Daddy?” Kylie chimes in, prompting everyone’s heads to turn to her, yours included. “What will you be doing?”

          Vapula crosses her arms and lets out a short, bitter laugh. Rebecc’s eyes widen at the question, and she looks like she’s afraid you’re going to strike Kylie like you did her mother, but your reaction is only the opposite. To hear your daughter ask a genuine, curious question like that, to know that she is anything but mindless and yet still holds the love for you that she does, it flushes you with pride for your sweet girl. You stride over to Kylie and put a gentle hand to her chin, and her bright eyes meet yours as you tilt her head up and take her soft lips into a tender kiss. You can practically hear Sophie pouting in jealousy.

          “That’s a great question, sweetie,” you tell Kylie when you pull your lips from hers. “I’ll be doing the most important job of all,” you pause and caress her pregnant belly with her before adding, “Making our family bigger.”

          . . .

          You get everyone settled in as nightfall comes. Rebecc is locked in the farmhouse’s cellar, and everyone else is lied down to sleep on bedrolls in the front room. It’s not too different from living at the old campsite, but that’ll change as Whitney furnishes the old barns. The barn formerly belonging to Marble would be a good place to start. As for you, you plop your tired butt down on the edge of the large mattress in the farmhouse’s master bedroom, which Whitney gave up to you without objection. Right away you notice how nice of a house this is. No wonder Whitney can manage to be so well-rested despite working as hard as she does. The gentle beige of the wallpaper, the soft, carpeted floor that hugs the soles of your feet, the thick, plush blankets of this bed that tempt you to collapse in it, it’s all so very. . . cozy. You’re definitely going to get used to this place.

          You hold your hand to your mouth and yawn a long breath just as the sound of knocking draws your attention. You turn and see Kylie standing in the open doorway, her closed fist resting against the wall. The way she’s standing, just partway through the doorway, you can only see her outstretched arm, her peeking head, and her pregnant belly. “Daddy,” she says meekly, looking a bit worried to have dared to disturb you. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

          You smile and nod. “Of course, sweetie.” You hold a hand out towards her. “Get over here.”

          Kylie closes the door behind her and starts over to you. She’s wearing her usual makeshift bra and breeches, but you suspect she won’t be for long. As you get a good look at her now, your smile widens as you see just how obscenely pregnant your daughter truly is. The skin of her stomach is stretched tight over her giant, enlarged womb, and her cute, once-innie navel is now a bulbous, cute-in-its-own-right outie. If she was human you’d be fearing that Kylie’s stomach and breasts would always bear some reminding scars and stretchmarks of this pregnancy, but, thankfully, harpies are the pinnacle of sex appeal. They rebound perfectly from pregnancy. Tits stay perky, tummies stay pretty, pussies stay tight. Necessary traits for an all-female race that needs to seduce males to reproduce.

          “I want to show you something,” Kylie whispers. “Look.”

          Kylie slips off her bra, and you let your eyes fall to her breasts. Her nipples, which were once brightly-pink but have now darkened a shade from her pregnancy, are each dribbling thin trails of white milk down the soft feathers of her shapely tits. Her body’s preparing to feed her incoming daughter – your incoming daughter. You put your hands to Kylie’s hips as you marvel at the thought of it: the very seed that gave your daughter life is now bringing a new child in that same daughter’s womb. It feels a little wrong. . . but it also feels so right. The tiny inkling of shame you feel for impregnating your daughter is buried beneath a sea of thrill and arousal.

          “Taste it, Daddy,” Kylie says. “It’s sweet.”

          You peer up at her as a smirk comes to your lips. “Did you taste yourself?” you ask her with a light, humorous tone.

          “Mhm,” she hums with an eager nod. As if to give you proof, she lifts her left boob and cranes her neck downward. She takes her nipple between her lips, and her jaw starts bobbing as she gulps down her own milk.

          “You’re a twisted little thing, aren’t you?” you chuckle.

          She drops her tit from her mouth and frowns. “Is that bad?” she asks you timidly.

          “No, sweetie,” you laugh again. “It’s not bad at all. Kylie, you’re—” your breath catches in your throat as warmth suddenly swells in you. It’s that feeling of fatherly pride again. You’re starting to get addicted to that feeling. This is why you do what you do. This is what fatherhood is all about. Kylie is such a great girl, a sweet girl. You can only hope that all of your daughters will end up like her. Your happiness would truly never end. “. . . You’re perfect.”

          That puts a smile on her lips. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispers to you.

          “I love you too, sweetie,” you whisper back. "More than you’ll ever know.”

          She moves your hand from her hip to her boob. “Drink with me,” she says. That’s one offer you’d never refuse.

          You lean forward and press your lips over her pink, milk-leaking nipple as Kylie puts her other tit back to her mouth. You squeeze her breast and hollow your cheeks, sucking inwards. Kylie shudders and moans from your suckling of her sensitive teat, and your efforts are soon rewarded with a thick jet of warm milk to the flat of your tongue. Just as Kylie said, her milk has this strange, incredibly sweet taste to it, almost like it’s laced with a strong cane sugar. Your brows furrow at the surprising taste, but it’s delicious, and you don’t stop. You join Kylie in drinking straight from the tap, gulping squirt after squirt of her milk down your throat. She keeps on moaning around her closed, suckling lips, pleasured by the draining of her swollen breasts. Your gut starts to feel a little swishy and heavy, but the flow of milk still doesn’t stop, and thus you don’t either. Kylie climbs onto the edge of the bed and into your lap, giving her weary legs a rest from heaving around her gravid belly, and you hug her close to you with your free hand.

          A warm, tingling pleasure flushes through you as your stomach is filled, and it’s then that you realize Kylie’s milk isn’t just unnatural, it’s corrupted – heavily corrupted. But that revelation doesn’t disturb you. If anything, it thrills you. It means you can finally take something else you need from Kylie.

          When you finally empty Kylie’s breast, you look up and find her smiling down at you. She’s already finished hers. You let her nipple pop from your mouth and peck a quick kiss on her lips before turning her and pushing her down behind you, down onto her back. She slips off and kicks away her breeches before taking one of the pillows from the top of the bed and wedging it under her back, giving her and her heavy belly some much-needed support as she spreads her long legs for you. You’ve fucked her enough for her to be accustomed with the how-to’s of pregnant sex, but that’s not what you’ll be doing right now. Instead of putting your knees down between her open legs like she expects you to, you slip down and kneel by the foot of the bed, and you reach under it and pull out your trunk.

          “Daddy? What’re you doing?” Kylie asks as you flip up the trunk’s lid and rifle through its varied contents. “Don’t you want my pussy?”

          “Of course I do, sweetie,” you answer her soothingly. “But you’re ready now. I’ve got something for you.”

          “What is it?” she probes, full of questions as usual.

          Finally, you find what you’re looking for. A tall, glass vial of a pink fluid. A lust draft. You shake the vial a bit, waking the fluid and bringing it to a bubbling, roiling life. You stand to your feet and show Kylie the pink potion. “This,” you answer.

          You grab Kylie’s legs and pull her over to the edge of the bed. You push her legs open again and uncork the vial with an audible pop! Despite her confusion, Kylie doesn’t object as you spread the short-feathers hiding her cooch and push the mouth of the vial into her tight slit. You tip the butt of the vial upwards and pour its pink, bubbling contents into her pussy, emptying it into her tunnel. When the last of it swishes inside her, you toss the vial behind you and make sure to keep her cooch-feathers and pussy-mound pulled open, watching carefully. A long, low moan of pleasure comes from Kylie as the pink fluid dissipates and soaks into the wet walls of her cunt. The natural lubricant of your girl’s hyper-excited pussy triples in output as she starts positively gushing, but. . . damn, why didn’t she finish? That was a potent lust draft you just poured into her, but she didn’t orgasm.

          You lower your mouth to her pussy and flick your tongue over the twitching, pink bud of her clitoris, and that does the trick.

          Kylie’s chest shoots forward as her great wings extend in an explosion of motion, blasting up the curtains on the window from the gust of air as her low moan turns to a cry of bliss. Her open thighs shake and tremble as her splayed wings flap repeatedly, blowing enough air into your face to make your eyes squint, but you keep your wits, remembering why you’ve done this to her, and you swiftly lower your mouth and plant it directly over your daughter’s quivering pussy. As Kylie cries out in bliss, a familiar but always-strange black liquid flows from her tunnel and fills your mouth, thick and viscous, with a texture and taste markedly different from her normal fluids. You give your sweet girl a few affectionate parting licks to her pink button, adding a few more icy spikes of pleasure to her orgasm that make her squeal in ecstasy, before you rise from between her legs and turn away from her. You open your mouth and drool the liquid into your hand, and a moment after it pools in your palm, the once-black fluid changes color into a deep gold flecked with white. The fluid changes consistency as its color shifts, solidifying into an irregular and bumpy but brilliantly-shining crystal.

          “Daddy?” Kylie asks you breathlessly when she comes down from her high, her chest still heaving from her orgasm. “What’s that?”

          “Your Lethicite,” you tell her as you turn to her, but judging by the confusion on her face, your explanation only puzzled her further. “It’s a piece of your soul, sweetie,” you explain as you hold the crystal out towards her, giving her a better look at it. “See how pretty it is? It’s golden and beautiful, just like you.”

          Kylie’s eyes widen as she watches you return her Lethicite to your mouth. You crunch down on the crystal and chew it like a soft, brittle candy. It’s delicious and sweet, just like its owner, and you swallow it down gleefully. It hits your stomach, and you close your eyes and take a deep, calming breath as you brace for what comes next.

          An excruciatingly burning feeling in your head drops you to your knees, and you groan from the bottom of your lungs as the agony crawls down your head and through your spine. Kylie hurries out of bed and kneels beside you as she tries to comfort you, but you only hardly notice her through the pain. It feels like your veins are carrying open flames through your body, like you’re submerged in a sea of fire. Then, suddenly, the pain evaporates, and you’re left in what feels like a slightly altered state of mind. You stand to your feet and wipe a trail of spittle from your bottom lip.

          Yes, you definitely feel different. Much different. Kylie’s Lethicite was a potent one. You’ve always known she was a special girl, but damn. Colors seem a bit sharper now, smells a bit stronger, and even magic feels easier to manipulate. You could do a hell of a lot more with a snap of your fingers now than you could before.

          “Daddy, what—what happened?” Kylie stammers fearfully. “Are you okay?”

          You turn to her as a wicked, nefarious smile comes to your lips. “I’m better than okay, sweetie,” you tell her, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think your voice sounds just the faintest bit deeper than before. Your smile widens as you then say to her, “I’m stronger.”

          Kylie still looks a little afraid, but you know just how to convince her all is well. You push her back down into your bed and spread her legs again. You yank down your pants and free your long, aching cock, which now feels much more sensitive to the touch, and you gasp when you wrap your hand around it. Your balls seem a bit heavier, too, and, Gods, if it feels this good with just your hand on it, you’re eager to find out how your pecker will feel when it’s sheathed in the heat of Kylie’s snug pussy.

          Kylie lowers her hand to her crotch and pries open the short-feathers guarding her cunny, presenting her little wet slit to you as she locks her eyes with yours. You give her what she wants and press your member against your daughter’s hot, puffy pussy, but just before your cockhead can slip home into her wet, welcoming cooch, another knocking at the door draws your attention.

          “Who is it?” you call out.

          “Sophie,” she says quietly.

          You groan an impatient sigh as you pull your cock away from Kylie’s cunt. “Come in,” you tell her.

          Sophie opens the door just wide enough to slip through and shuts it behind her. She’s nude as usual, and her heavy, fat tits jiggle when she turns to see you and Kylie. “Hey,” she says softly as she looks from Kylie’s waiting pussy to your erect cock. “I thought I’d find you two, like, having fun. Did I hear my little girl have a big O?”

          “That you did,” you nod as you cross your arms.

          Sophie nervously presses her two forefingers together as she looks back and forth from you to Kylie. “Can I join?” she asks with an eager smile. “We’ll be, like, one happy family, only, we’ll be in bed together. One happy sex family.” She giggles girlishly at her own horrendous joke.

          “After what you did on the trip over here?” you growl at her, shattering her smile. “You’d be lucky if I ever touch you again.”

          Her lips twist into a hurt frown. She hangs her head with what looks like true, heartfelt regret. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly, and you hear her gulp before she speaks again. “Hubby, I’m, li—. . . I’m. . . really trying to be better. I want to be good. It’s just. . . it’s really hard. I’m so horny all the time. . . but I know that’s not an excuse. I swear, hubby, I’m loyal to you. I always will be. I promise. I love you, and I love Kylie too. Please,” she begs as she clasps her hands together. “Let’s be together. The three of us. You, me, and our sweet baby.”

          That. . . was surprisingly convincing. Gods, you can’t be too mad at her, can you? You were the one that forcefully transformed her into the slutty bimbo that she is, after all. At the end of the day, as long as she’s loyal to you and your family, as long as she never acts on those thoughtless suggestions of hers, then she’s still just as deserving of your affection as all your other wives. You let out a quick sigh and look back to Kylie behind you. She gives you an approving nod, and that settles that. One happy family coming right up. “Okay,” you say to Sophie with a curt nod. “Get in bed.”

          “Yay!” Sophie cheers quietly. She hurriedly crawls into bed with Kylie and lays on her side next to her, joining their hair into one vast, shining sea of platinum, white-blonde locks. “Your tits are so great baby, ohmigosh,” Sophie coos to Kylie as she fondles her daughter’s soft, feathery breasts. “Nice and big but sooo perky.”

          “Thank you, Mama,” Kylie says graciously. She returns the favor by gingerly petting her mother’s massive breasts, but you can tell that Sophie’s sheer amount of tit-flesh is a bit mystifying to your girl.

          Sophie and Kylie look to you and wait for you to get in bed with them, but you don’t. You stand right where you are. You won’t be joining them, not just yet. You want them to put on a show for you first.

          “Kiss,” you command them.

          Kylie gives her mother a nervous look, but Sophie has no such hesitation. She tilts her head and plants her open lips on her daughter’s, and Kylie gingerly accepts her and kisses her back. Sophie brings her tongue into the fray to play with her girl and kiss her more deeply, but Kylie doesn’t do the same, and their kiss stays partially chaste and awkwardly one-sided. You wonder if Kylie thinks her tongue is reserved for you.

          “It’s okay, Kylie,” you assure her. “Kiss her like you kiss me.”

          Kylie obeys and opens her mouth for her mother, letting their tongues join and mingle, trading saliva from one tongue to the other. The vast difference in experience is obvious as you watch them. Sophie moans as she expertly plays her lips over her daughter’s, brushing her tongue over Kylie’s in long licks that never miss their mark, all while Kylie simply acts the passive partner and tries her best to keep up with her slut of a mother. Sophie puts her hands back to her girl’s swollen breasts, groping and squeezing her tits, occasionally giving a gentle pinch to her stiff nipples. Probably as a learned response from the many times you’ve fucked her, the passionate kissing and boob-play goads Kylie into spreading her legs wider, readying herself for your manhood, offering you easy access to her pink pussy.

          Eventually you decide that their show has gone on long enough without you. While your two bird-bitches are busy tongue-fucking each other, you climb into bed unnoticed and kneel between Kylie’s spread thighs. You grab your long, throbbing cock and align it with your sweet girl’s moist cleft, and you give no warning before thrusting hard into her little slit, prompting Kylie to squeak a high-pitched but kiss-muffled “Eep!” as your member dives through her teen pussy, roughly forcing apart her vaginal walls. Gods, she’s as tight as ever. Her hot cunny fits your hard cock nice and snug, and if it weren’t for her being sopping wet, it’d be a challenge to fuck her. As soon as she recognizes what just invaded her pussy, Kylie starts lovingly squeezing herself around you, hugging your cock with her well-trained pelvic muscles. You groan loudly, spending all your willpower simply to not cum on the spot. Kylie’s squeezing, still virginal-feeling cunt brings a burning, euphoric pleasure out of your aching cock, and her clenching cooch draws thick drops of your pre-seed oozing from you. Her swollen, rounded belly doesn’t budge a bit as you start fucking her well and rough, pushing all of your cock into her with every thrust, pounding her cunny and slapping your balls into the crack of her toned ass. Kylie makes her usual mewling moans of pleasure – something she never did the first few times you took her. Though you once weren’t sure of it, now that you know how much you’ve corrupted her, there’s no doubt in your mind that your sweet girl enjoys being violated by her father just as much as you enjoy doing the violating.

          Sophie breaks her kiss with Kylie and spins herself downwards, lowering her head down below Kylie’s pregnant belly to get a better look at the action, and her tongue hangs from her open mouth as she dopily watches you plow her daughter. “That’s it, hubby,” she coos to you as she watches Kylie’s tight slit repeatedly swallow your girthy cock. “Pound that pussy, oh yes.”

          Sophie gives Kylie’s clitoris a couple long, loving licks, but boredom and a need for her own pleasure overtakes her. She shifts herself over to Kylie’s upper half again and plants her legs on each side of Kylie’s head. Sophie lowers her crotch downwards, and somewhat to your surprise, Kylie graciously plants her mouth over her mother’s sopping, drooling pussy, lapping her tongue around and inside Sophie’s needy cunt. You reach out and put your hand to the back of Sophie’s neck and pull her towards you as you take her lips into a kiss, pushing your tongue into her mouth and slathering it against hers, just like she did to Kylie. You smile around your wet kiss as you wonder just how much of the spit Sophie is trading with you is hers and how much of it is your daughter’s. Meanwhile, below her father and her mother, Kylie has slipped her hand under her big belly and is now circling a finger around her clit, occasionally giving the buzzer of pleasure a quick flick.

          Being the randy slut that she is, Sophie finishes first, and the fluids of her pussy seep thick from her orgasm. Whatever isn’t swallowed by Kylie ends up coating her chin and cheeks. Kylie hits her second orgasm next, breathing a low, humming moan that reverberates in her mother’s cunny, heightening Sophie’s pleasure. Your nuts tighten and clench as they prepare to unload, but even as pleasurable as it’d feel, you know it’d be a waste to dump your cum in Kylie’s pussy when there’s an empty womb desperately needing your seed in this very room. Another pop! echoes through the room as you pull out of Kylie, releasing a bubble of air that you’d jammed into her tight pussy, and you yank Sophie off of your daughter and push her down onto her back, all while still furiously tugging on your cock, keeping yourself hurtling towards your grand finale. You stuff yourself in Sophie’s incredibly hot twat just as the first rope of seed jumps from your swollen cockhead, and you groan louder than ever as you hilt yourself and let your cock rest still as it twitches and wiggles in joyful, electric pleasure, slathering Sophie’s pussy-walls with white as the river of your frothy cum flows to her empty, waiting womb, its rightful resting place.

          Only when your pelvic muscles give their last contraction do you pull your incredibly-sensitive dick from your bird-bitch’s cunt. It felt like the biggest load of your life – courtesy of Kylie’s Lethicite and your newest virility boost – and as you look down at the aftermath, you’re certainly proved right. Sophie’s womb and tunnel is filled to the brim, and your thick, white cum is oozing from your first wife’s well-seeded pussy. You sigh and wipe the sweat from your brow as you to look to Kylie beside you.

          “Eat it,” you order her while you point to the mess you’ve made.

          After you scoot aside and make room for her, Kylie obediently crawls to between Sophie’s legs and puts her mouth over her mother’s sloppy, spunky-white pussy, and you can hear her slurp as she laps up and gulps down your salty seed as it flows from Sophie’s cunt. Kylie doesn’t let a single drop hit the sheets of the bed, and you spot a mischievous grin curling around Sophie’s plump lips. Sophie reaches behind herself and props herself up a bit on her arms, and she lets gravity do the rest. The flow of your cum thickens and Kylie has no choice but to keep swallowing as the mixture of her father’s seed and her mother’s juices quickly and fully fills her mouth. Normally you’d object to one of your wives emptying their wombs just a short moment after you filled them, but Kylie eating your cum from her mother’s pussy is just too good of a sight to be upset about. When the flow stops, Kylie doesn’t show an ounce of queasiness or disgust. Instead she licks her lips, looking eager for more, but sadly, you don’t think you have the energy for a second round. Not tonight.

          You collapse into bed between your two harpy wives, utterly exhausted, and Sophie and Kylie each put their arms around you as they snuggle against you. Nobody bothers pulling the blankets up. There’s more than enough heat from your bodies to keep you all warm.
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Our Father