Homelands Pt. 05 Ch. 04

The woman who used to have more candies than coins in her pocketbook, who would always slip a ten dollar bill in Annie's pocket and make her promise not to tell her mother about it, had done that? The one who'd organized a bridge club at her church and held bake sales to raise money for charity? She'd once been a serial killer?

A crusading feminist serial killer, but still.

"Seeing as the queen at the time was herself a Moody, this didn't go over well."

"Imagine not," Annie said.

A Moody. That hadn't sunk in at first.

So it wasn't just her father's house. Her mother's had plenty of blood on its hands too. Including the blood of Patty and Eric's ancestors.

What a fucked up world.

"Rather than see the queen declare a feud with House Hardt, your grandmother went into exile," her father continued. "No one heard from her again until two years later, when she suddenly returned and Devoured the queen in front of her entire court."

Annie gasped.

That seemed to amuse her father.

"So, then she took the throne for herself, right?" Annie asked. "How come no one ever told me that my grandmother used to be queen?"

He shook his head. "She said that she didn't care who ruled the court, so long as they left House Hardt alone."

"Oh," Annie said.

If she'd been in her grandmother's position, would she have done the same? Or would she have been tempted to take power? How could House Hardt be any safer than it would be if it possessed the throne?

"That was when House Bravo first came to power," her father said. "The throne hasn't left their hands since. But they've never forgotten how they got where they are."

"So they're...thankful towards her?"

"Not sure that's how I'd put it," her father said, with a sly grin.

No. Of course not. They feared her.

As well they should, apparently.

"Anyway, my point is, you've no need to worry. House Hardt is in good hands. The your grandmother has less to fear from the king than he does from her."

"And from you?" Annie asked, before she even realized that she'd said it aloud.

Her father sighed and ruffled her hair. Like she was still a child.

Not that he'd done that very often when she was a child. Seeing as he wasn't there.

"I'd be lying if I said His Majesty enjoys doing his own dirty work," he said.

"So you're his enforcer," Annie sad flatly.

He regarded her silently, his eyes glowing just a little brighter than before.

The surge of confidence had allowed her to speak her mind died.

"You could say that," he added, his words sharp and precise. "But there won't be any need for it to come to that anyway."

Annie would have loved to ask why not, but she didn't dare. Not after the way he'd reacted to being called him the king's enforcer. She'd just have to trust that her father would make sure that everything was okay. That was what fathers did, after all.

Granted, hers never had. Not in the past. But he was here now, and everything was going to start to change for the better.

She pressed one of her feet against her father's inner thigh.

His gorgeous eyes drifted downward, slowly, then lingered on her foot. He seemed to notice her heels, not to mention her stockings, for the first time. When those emerald beauties made their way back up to her face, Annie was pleased to note that there were spots of color in her father's otherwise pale cheeks.

"This is where you promise me that everything will be okay," Annie said.

With a smirk, her father said, "I promise."

"The rest too."

"Everything's going to be okay," he added, hollowly, as he pushed her onto her back and climbed on top of her.

"Again. Like you mean it," she added.

Her heart raced. She knew she was pushing it. But she needed to hear him say it.

He paused in his descent towards her neck, pulled back, and looked her dead in the eyes. Those exotic irises of his flared, glowing so bright that she was sure that spots would swim across her field of vision. Yet she couldn't stand to look away either. So, though it meant squinting and blinking frequently, Annie kept her eyes locked on her father's.

"No harm will come to you or those you love. Not if I can help it."

His gaze was unwavering and his voice was like steel. Annie felt as though a warm blanket had been wrapped around her shoulders. In that moment, he was exactly the father she'd always wanted him to be.

"Some may need to go into exile," he said. "But there are worse things than that. Kings come and go, after all. And immortals live surprisingly long lives."

"Only exile?" Annie asked.

She hoped her father couldn't sense how badly she wanted him inside her. How shoddy were her defenses. The responsible side of her was just barely capable of taking control long enough to force her to ask these questions. If he told her that this whole ordeal would end with everyone holding hands and singing Kumbaya, the more primal part of her would insist that they'd gotten their answer, and it was time to get fucked, damnit. Time for him to show her that he was her daddy, in every sense of the word.

With one hand still pressing into the quilt beside her, her father brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. The bright gleam in his eyes had dulled to a soft glow, allowing her to safely stare directly into them.

It simply wasn't fair.

No man should be equipped with eyes like that. That they were set deep within dark caves hollowed out from the surface of his stony face only served to make them that much more beautiful. How was a woman to think straight when looking up at him? He was so powerful, so calm, so perfectly in control.

"Trust me, sweetie. No one's going to get hurt."

That was all she needed to hear.

It might well have been a lie. But it gave her the pretense she needed to claim that she hadn't jumped into bed with him recklessly.

Annie lifted her head up ever so slightly. Brought her lips nearer to his. They looked like they would be nice and soft, despite his hard face.

She'd never kissed a man with a beard before today. Yet his would be the second one she nibbled on and ran the tips of her fingers through that night alone.

That thought made her feel all kinds of dirty. Girls her age weren't supposed to be sleeping with bearded men at all, let alone two different ones in one night.

Of course, they really weren't supposed to be fucking their fathers or grandfathers either. Yet Annie was apparently already getting to the point where that part was easy to overlook.

Just at that moment, it was his beard, and his age, that made Annie feel like she was really breaking the rules. Like her grandfather's, it beard was short. Mostly. It wasn't nearly as neat though. `Scraggly' might even be an appropriate term. Nor was it as dark as her grandfather's. But that suited her father. The mix of white, silver, and gray added to the sense that his face had been beaten down by the elements, but was strong enough to endure for centuries to come. Like a stretch of rough, proud terrain.

Well, of course it mattered that he was her father. It just didn't seem wrong anymore to allow herself to commit incest. What guilt she was feeling came from elsewhere.

Not his beard though.

The truth she was trying not to let herself contemplate was that she had no business sleeping with the king's shadow.

In a way, though, she was doing her family a favor. Rather than putting her own selfish needs ahead of those of everyone else by sleeping with the enemy, it could be seen as her seducing the king's top gun and getting him to promise that no harm would befall them.

"I believe you," she said, faintly.

Then she closed her eyes and parted her lips.

He did not disappoint.

He very, very did not disappoint.

Not only did he grant her unspoken request, but his kiss was unlike any she'd ever known. And it wasn't just that he knew what he was doing. Knew how to tease and when to press the attack. How to build tension and relieve it. But there was something else, too.

Something magical.

Well, supernatural, at any rate. Which, given the powers they all had, wasn't exactly surprising. In the short time since Annie had been initiated into the ways of her kind, she'd seen, and felt, all sorts of impossible little flourishes that had collectively redefined her view of lovemaking. It only stood to reason that her father would know more than a few such tricks, powerful and experienced as he evidently was.

But it sounded better to say that they shared a magical moment.

A few moments in, Annie felt her nipples harden and her clitoris slip out from under its hood. Her spine started tingling and her breath caught and her muscles tensed. None of that was unprecedented, obviously. A good kiss was bound to do that. Wasn't most guys who had that affect on her, particularly right away, but it had certainly happened before.

When she climaxed a few seconds later, though, that was definitely a first.

He hadn't even touched her yet. Not so much as a grope of her breasts through her lingerie. Nothing. It was just his lips pressed against hers, the nimble work of his tongue, and whatever he was doing inside her Libido, that led her to explode.

Her father pulled back, giving her a chance to regain her breath. He wore a sly grin that did wonders to his rugged face.

Annie reached up and touched his cheek. It was strange how his beard felt soft and downy here but bristly there. Parts of his face were smooth, but others sported an intricate spider-web of cracks and crevasses.

He looked nothing like the stupid boys she'd dated to impress her friends. Their faces were smooth and plain and perfect and boring. There was no depth to them. No character. No physical record of the struggles they'd survived.

"That was...," she started. But she never finished. Just broke out in a fit of giggling.

He kissed her forehead by way of response.

"You have no idea how long I've dreamed about this," Annie said.

Of course, the face in her dreams had always been blurry. Or had born a striking resemblance to whichever Hollywood actor she'd been crushing on at the time. Because, until two days ago, she'd had no idea what her father looked like. She'd still been an infant when he'd left. Plus, her mothers hadn't kept any pictures of him. Not that it would have mattered, since, like her mothers, he'd worn a mask back in what Annie still thought of as the real world, even though she knew that she was supposed to call it the Playground.

"It wasn't easy," he said.

"Kissing me?" Annie asked, laughing.

"Leaving you." After a pause, he added, "And the others."

She wondered if "the others" included her mother. Doubtful, though. Whether that bothered her or pleased her, Annie couldn't have said. Growing up, she'd wished she had a normal family, like everyone else. Of course, by the time she got to high school, she'd realized that no one's family was "normal" anyway. One friend after another went through hell as their parents divorced. Others wished that they would. But even so, some small part of Annie wished she'd had a father, and that he'd loved her mother.

Yet the thought that she was the only one who really mattered to him was intoxicating.

"Why did you?" she asked.

"Not now," he said, before kissing her on the nose. "Your grandfather and your sister are probably looking for you already. They won't find us, but you should get back to them soon, before they start thinking you were kidnapped too. We'll talk again before long."

"Okay," she said.

"For now," he said, producing a length of rope from nowhere, "let's do this right."

Annie could have died from excitement at the sight of it, both at the prospect of being tied up and used by the man she'd imagined to be the one using her every time she'd allowed some other guy to do that to her, and the realization that her father knew exactly what she wanted. That he had a talent for reading Libidos.

Nonetheless, Annie feigned nervousness. She bit her lip and gave her father a slight nod.

Before long, she had her panties stuffed in her mouth and her wrists bound together. Her father knelt behind her, fucking her pussy raw while he tugged on her hair and slapped her ass hard enough that she wouldn't be able to sit down for a week afterwards. At least, if she hadn't already learned how to use her powers to help out with that.

"You like this, you little slut?" he asked. "Does Daddy's little princess like it rough?"

She hoped that he understood that the muffled response she offered was confirmation that indeed she did. Very much.

"Have you been a bad girl?" he grunted as he slammed into her.

Annie didn't know if he was simply that big naturally, or if this was another sign of how powerful he was, but her father's dick was by far the biggest she'd ever taken. Bigger than Nick's or Eric's, neither of which was exactly small. Big enough that it hurt, in fact.

But no more than it should have.

All her life, Annie had known that she'd disappointed her father. That she needed to make it up to him if she was to hope to convince him to come back. Here she was, doing exactly that. It couldn't have felt more right, now matter how much it felt like suffering.

"That's it, take it like a champ," he panted as he delivered a series of sharp thrusts with his lance. "There's a good little girl."

Just as Annie felt another orgasm brewing, her father stopped.

She whimpered loudly and wiggled her hips at him.

"I'm sorry, did you think this was about your enjoyment?" he asked.

Annie moaned and slumped forward, burying her face in a pillow. Of all the things he'd made her endure, this was by far the cruelest. She needed to get off so badly, and was so close to doing so. He couldn't just stop now, could he? Wasn't he enjoying it?

The slap her father gave her ass brought tears to her eyes and filled her vision with spots.

It also finished her off.

Or, at least, got her orgasm started. Her father reentered her immediately after his hand struck her bare ass, and he gave it to her as good as anyone ever had.

All the while, Annie kept right on cumming.

Her climax stretched on and on for several minutes. She felt herself getting weaker by the moment, as the supernatural energy their kind thrived on poured out of her. But she was so lost in ecstasy that she couldn't begin to care.

On and on, her unnatural orgasm stretched. Towards the end of it, her father finally experienced an orgasm of his own.

"Ungh, fuck, yeah," he grunted.

He filled her womb to overflowing with his warm seed. As it rushed into her, she felt some of the energy he'd taken from her returning, filling her with life and vitality.

When the aftershocks of her record-breaking orgasm started to push her father's spunk back out, her father pulled his monster cock out and shot still more of the sticky stuff onto her back. Rope after rope of it landed on her, each one making her shudder.

Never before had Annie made a man ejaculate so extensively. She probably should have considered it gross. But it struck her as a compliment of sorts.

Afterwards, her father untied her, took her in his arms, and held her.

Despite the sweet release that had come in the end, and the intense cloud of euphoria it had filled her head with, Annie couldn't keep herself from crying. She wasn't sure if they were tears of joy, pain, humiliation, guilt, or relief. Maybe all of the above. It was like she'd been hit by a tidal wave of emotions that she'd been incapable of feeling while her father fucked the hell out of her, bringing her to heights of ecstasy she'd never before dreamed of. Patty's disappearance and Nick's injury and her grandparents being dragged back into the fucked up court and her desperate need to please her father, no matter how much she knew that she shouldn't even have been speaking to him and no matter how rough he got with her. It all came back to her. The waterworks just started up of their own volition and showed no sign of stopping any time soon.

"It's okay, baby," he said. "Daddy's here for you."

Through a particularly strong sob, Annie forced a smile.

Those words alone made it all worth it.

If that was what it took for her to hear that he was there for her, she'd let him yank her hair so hard it came out by the fistful, spank her so hard he left bruises on her poor cheeks, and hurl every insult in the book at her. She'd let him tie her up, flog her, and put clamps on her nipples. Whatever he wanted, so long as she got to hear those magical little words.

It turned out that he wasn't done rewarding her yet either. He'd already done enough, in her mind. But it got better still.

After Annie stopped crying, her father made sweet love to her.

He started out by seducing her with a thousand kisses. She soon discovered that her father was good with his hands and better with his tongue. He was also patient, skillful, and generous. Again and again, he looked up from her hips, or her breasts, or from between her legs, stared into her eyes, and told her how beautiful she was or how much he enjoyed pleasuring her. All the pain in the world melted away beneath his expert hands.

Annie had never met a guy who knew how to do foreplay right until her brothers had initiated her into their perverted family practice. Before then, she'd always thought Nick geeky and soft and pathetic. The kind of guy Veronica would go for. Which was more than a little ironic, given that it turned out they'd been fucking each other for a long time. Those types of guys had never interested Annie. Even after first Nick then her grandfather had introduced Annie to the pleasures of taking it slow, she'd figured that it was overrated, if not quite as much so as she'd once believed.

Her father, though, was another story entirely.

She wished they had more time. Laying there on her back while her father seduced her was, to her surprise, almost as good as letting him ravage her like an animal. She felt, for the first time in her life, not just desired, but loved.

After she shuddered her way through another orgasm, her father climbed atop her and entered her slowly. This time, his member was pleasantly large, but painfully so. As he slowly pumped his slick rod in and out of her, he stared longingly into her eyes, those emerald orbs hardly ever blinking. The soft green light they emitted made it impossible to look away. She relied on her hands to familiarize herself with his hard body.

Annie's final climax was less intense than the others, but no less satisfying. It felt her feeling peaceful and warm and content.

When they finished, he again held her in his arms. But this time, there were no tears. Just a loving father and his devoted daughter sharing a few quiet minutes of pure beauty.