Please note that, while submitted as an incest story, this story is set in a fantasy world. As the emphasis is on the incestuous sex, I’m putting it in here instead. It also contains magic penises and opium use. My apologies to anyone who finds these themes or any singular theme distressing.
For every luxury in her life, there was a stress. Bliss was a busy elf. There was the Wallflower to manage, a sprawling empire of smut packaged in tasteful wrappers. A household of servants – even if Kayla and Ephraim managed the day-to-day affairs of the dozens of souls who laboured for them. Her commitments in high society, the neverending whirling daze of teas and dinners and balls. The finishing school for girls. The nurse’s report on the health of the many family children. The demands of her own offspring. All of it conspired to regularly render her tired and irritable, and today was one of those dreadful days where it all seemed to crash down at once.
When Letalya found her, she was taking tea in the coffee lounge overlooking the house’s carefully manicured back lawns, the small table in front of her covered in papers. Letters to answer, letters to write, reports to read – business and pleasure alike. The tension in her body was obvious in the tight grip on her pen, the rigid posture – though much of that came regardless from the overtight corset hidden beneath her pale blue dress, which permitted little deviance from proper posture. Subtler hints were clear to her familiar eye, from the set of Bliss’s jaw – a slight grind of the teeth now and then – to the way her bare stockinged feet clinged at the floor, toes clenching next to discarded heels.
“You’re working too hard again, darling.” She said as she drifted over, resting her hands on Bliss’s shoulders with a gentle squeeze.
“Mm…” Bliss offered in answer, taking a moment to put her pen down, reaching a hand to rest on Letalya’s and offering a small smile in answer. “I know. But sometimes everything comes at once.”
“You need a night off.”
“…Maybe.” Bliss blushed, the memory of what those words usually meant with Letalya rising unbidden. Long, languid nights sandwiched between her and her wife, smoking hashish and fucking, cuddling, and passing a night in a sleepless but restful haze of comfort and pleasure. Shaking them off, she swallowed lightly, squeezing Letalya’s hand and looking back up at her. “Yes. I do.”
“Good. Come by my rooms after dinner, then, and we’ll take care of that stress for you.” Letalya bent to press a kiss to Bliss’s cheek before stepping back with a languid stretch the rival of any common cat’s, a great and luxurious movement that turned her momentarily into a magnificent giantess.
“I’ll see you later, darling… I’ve got something to take care of myself this afternoon, or I’d join you for tea.” She turned, swaying back to the doors and pausing at the door to look back and grin over her shoulder.
“Wear the little white thong. Ariana loves it.”
And like that, she was gone, leaving Bliss to blush brighter. She tried to disguise it with her tea, but failed, and sighed as she tried – and failed – to return her focus to the letters. The mere mention of her bubbly half-sister’s preferences had left her nipples stiff against her dress, conjuring back those vivid memories.
The rest of the day passed without event. Her work passed mechanically in large part – simple responses to simple queries, orders for a new camera for the magazine in answer to her favourite photographer Fenillia’s outrageous request for it, a request for a full accounting of profits for the year to the family’s accountant.
Dinner was its usual somewhat formal affair in the great dining room with most of the family and the servants waiting, and it too passed in something of a daze. Light conversation, a good meal, her wife’s lecherous attentions to her and their daughter both. When they offered to let her join them for an evening in the ‘smoking room’ upstairs – in fact a frightful space filled with bondage furniture – she politely declined, and they left her with a long kiss each at the end of the meal. A quick change, aided by her handmaid’s strong hands (and oh how she wished he would, just once, take liberties…) and she was ready.
Letalya lived almost at the furthest point from the master suite, tucked at the very end of the left wing’s ground floor, past the nursery. She favoured privacy and quiet – and did not count the laughter and general noise of children against it as some did – over ease of access, especially given the rest of the family’s often bloody and sadistic sexual tastes, which stood in near direct opposition to her own.
Knocking briefly, she was admitted by Letalya’s young handmaid (the only servant she permitted to attend to her private section of the house on anything resembling a regular basis) and lead down the short hallway to the parlour, where Letalya lounged on a chais by the fire, a sedate Worgen woman curled up as if a dog by her feet.
“Bliss!” She canlı bahis cried with pleasure when she looked up, rising to her feet to join her friend and draw her down onto the chais with her.
“Ariana is just getting ready for the night in the shower. I hope you can handle a long one tonight?” As she spoke, she wrapped her arms around her friend and lover, kissing her cheek and nuzzling against her.
“I think so… Just not too rough tonight. I’m a little sore from Hainora last night still.”
“Of course. I’ll let Ariana know – oof!”
Their discussion was cut short as Ariana made her entrance known, bounding onto the chais with them with a laugh, kissing them both eagerly, half-wet from the shower still and nearly naked. Puppy, the Worgen, looked up briefly before huffing and resting her head down on the rug again, resuming her nap.
“I think that’s our cue…” Letalya laughingly continued, gently pushing Ariana off her and rising from the couch, helping Bliss up and nudging her towards the open door of their bedroom. “Let’s get started and then we can relax more later.”
With heavy curtains drawn against the winter air and the fire low, Letalya’s private chamber took on the aspect of a cave, warm air thick with pleasant smoke, soft rugs underfoot a mirror to the fabric drapings of the ceiling. In daylight, the draperies were revealed as a great panoply of sheer silks in every colour; at night with but dim firelight they were a softly undulating dark sea, lit only by shimmering reflected ripples of light from the sensuous fire. The fabrics, the warmth, and the fire all conspired together to make the place one of calm and rest for those lucky enough to be invited into it.
Sweet smoke curled from glowing embers in a small brass vessel by the bed, a rare mixture of perfumes and scents that together smelled musky and enticing, feminine in some strange, powerful way – sandalwood and opium, frankincense and cinnamon, and rarer compounds that Bliss couldn’t even hope to identify without hours of time alone with her friend’s collection of mysterious powders and resins and oils that all mingled together with the underlying scent of charcoal from the fire and the smell of a human woman in residence, that slight, rich musk that no Elven nose could fail to notice. It was a far from unpleasant smell, especially for Bliss, who had by now grown so familiar with it that the smell was comforting, familiar, and just a little exciting all at once when layered with the omnipresent scent of hashish in the room.
Her first steps in this place at night always sent a shiver down her spine, brought up great torrents of memories of long hours spent together with the women who followed in behind her. Letalya, the ruler of this little cave, stepped behind her still lover, wrapping her soft arms around Bliss and kissing her neck gently. Ariana, her half-sister and Letalya’s wife, gleefully bounded to the bed ahead of them, leaping onto it and turning as she did to land on her back, grinning up at the two, clad only in a pair of her favourite cotton panties, threadbare and silk soft with a hundred washings, a sliver of faded red fabric between creamy thighs that nearly matched her shock of long red hair, gleaming like burnished copper in the low firelight.
Ariana always liked to watch this part, the display of her wife and her half-sister stripping together. They were creatures of rare voluptuousness, figures like those of primordial goddesses of sex and fertility chiselled into stone in the twilight dawn of the world, and to see her wife’s lips press to Bliss’s neck again sent a little flutter of excitement through the hyperactive Elf’s body, and the sound of Bliss’s murmur of pleasure at the touch only heightened the moment. It took all her self-control to stay on the bed rather than leaping up to join them, and she actually bit her lip when Letalya’s dusky hands began the slow work of undressing her lover.
Each button on the back of her dress revealed another inch of Bliss’s pale skin, a deeper glimpse into a valley of cleavage deeper than anyone could believe possible, until the dress finally slipped free to gather around the outrageous swell of Bliss’s hips, revealing the almost agonizingly tight cupless corset, whalebone long replaced with unyielding steel to render the impossible wasp-waist a fait accompli in yielding elven flesh. It made Bliss’s incredible proportions all the more generous, the great swell of her breasts emphasized, her by no means naturally lacking hips reshaped by years of wear into a dramatic flare and sweep. White silk complimented her skin, but Ariana’s eyes locked to her wife’s hands, to the way they came up to gently cup one of those tremendously heavy breasts, caressing over it as she drew Bliss into a kiss with a softly murmured ‘So full tonight…’
It was no idle statement. The blonde elf, like her heavier human lover, lactated prodigiously; the product of several children and an unceasing demand not just from the hungry mouths of babes but from her lovers, bahis siteleri whether adventurously trying a taste for the first time or with well-cultivated and long-honed appetites. Constantly in demand for their milk, neither had ever stopped after the birth of their first children, and tonight Bliss was achingly full. Never small, it took a keen eye – and one as well familiar with the daily fluctuations in her size as Ariana was – to notice it, to notice the slight swell and bloat. None though could fail to notice the almost immediate response from Bliss as Letalya’s fingers crept to delicately tease over her nipple; the way she shivered and pressed into the kiss, oversensitive, her let-down reflex triggering and her areolae drawing tight. Small beads of creamy, pearlescent milk formed near instantly in answer, and on the bed, Ariana squirmed, releasing her lip to pass her tongue unconsciously over them.
She was one of her half-sister’s lovers with a well-cultivated appetite for the taste of that milk, and the sight of it so close was tantalizing and erotic. Self-control fled in the face of it, and before she realized what she was doing, Ariana was rising from the bed and stepping to her wife and their lover, latching on greedily to Bliss’s free nipple, suckling at it and cupping it with both hands, delighting in the heft, savouring the flow of the warm milk along her tongue. Each breast was larger than her head, and that knowledge sent a thrill through her as much as the taste did. The softness of her sister’s skin, the scent of her, was intoxicating in its own right, and when a gentle hand rose to press her more firmly in, she moaned greedily into Bliss’s tit, suckling firmly, cheeks hollowing.
The taboo was not absent for Bliss like it was for the uninhibited Ariana, caught for so long in the orbit of her wife Letalya and her philosophy of epicurean hedonism and decadence that it had long ago withered on the vine, replaced by a blase attitude towards sex with her own family. For Bliss, it lingered even after years married to the matriarch of the Starshadows, and it spiced the encounter, made her flush and sent a little spike of shame through her body that despite herself only made her more aroused, made her curl her fingers in the copper hair of her half-sister and surrender herself gladly to unnatural lusts. Her wires were crossed, and it was the creeping sense of that shame that dampened her fastest between her legs, so much more than the mere physical delight of Ariana’s eager tongue lashing against her nipple or Letalya’s soft lips against her own. Her eyes fluttered closed in her surrender, and she focused on scent, on taste, on touch. On the feel of Letalya’s own soft body pressed close behind her, and the wash of the warm air against her thighs as her dress finally dropped free, leaving her only in her undergarments.
Bliss’s body was needy in many ways, Letalya had learned over the years together. It needed delicate touches sometimes and harsh punishments others, craving both. Her heart was the same, and Letalya was more than happy to satisfy it’s need for softness in a way that Bliss’s wife, with her dark and frighteningly sadistic tastes, couldn’t. It was a strange arrangement between them, and it made these rare nights magic, swelled them with intimacy. Lovers married to other lovers, coming together but once or twice a month in these thrillingly erotic encounters, sneaking each other love letters and little kisses to pass the time. The arrangement was simply accepted by Bliss’s wife, in part out of necessity and in part her own devotion to a (admittedly warped and sadistic) conception of free love. But for Letalya, the two women she loved most both delighted in these nights, and both were in front of her. It was as close to perfect as anything could be.
The sight, over Bliss’s shoulder, of Ariana nuzzling at Bliss’s heaving breast, of her pale pink nipples standing erect in excitement and her thighs rubbing together, was just as exquisite as the taste of her elven lover’s lips, the delicate dance of their tongues. With no small regret, she reluctantly broke that kiss and drew away, just far enough to begin with the laces of that overtight corset, loosening them with no small effort. It took Bliss’s ‘handmaid’ – a strapping, albeit extremely gay, bodybuilder – to lace her in properly, and the knots were always difficult to undo. It was a fashion she herself spurned, favouring her natural curves, the swell of her belly with fat. Her body was, undeniably, heavyset and thick, but nonetheless favoured hips, thighs, and chest. Only the visual illusion of the corset allowed Bliss to seem curvier than her, boosting the perceived size of her chest and her hips in excess of her fat epicurean lover.
By the time the corset was finally loose enough to remove, Bliss was shivering lightly, her breath ragged, both hands at Ariana’s head holding her firmly to her breast – and struggling to keep her hips still as her half-sister’s fingers stroked over her pussy through the soft silk of her panties, bahis şirketleri teasing her while she had no choice but to keep control and be undressed. The moment that tight garment left her body, she took a deep breath, the first in hours, swooning for just a moment at the queer sensation of her body decompressing. Letalya’s lips pressed to her back, to the deep red mark left by the tightlaced corset, while the dusky priestess’s fingers stroked over her sides, over the freed expanse of skin there. This was one of the few times she was free of the device, save for bathing, bondage too strict to permit its wear, or her many pregnancies – and each time Bliss found the sensation queerly unnerving, so accustomed was she to the tight press of steel ribs and padded silks around her body.
The discomfort of it faded quickly in the touch of her sister and their lover, and when Ariana pulled her greedily to the bed she more than eagerly followed, laughing softly, sliding onto the soft sheets with her and drawing in close for a passionate kiss, tongue darting between her lips to meet the other elf’s, to dance and probe and explore with her, hands roaming freely over her. Ariana possessed a tight, lithe body, a stark contrast to both wife and sister, well-toned from her ceaseless activities, nourished by a seemingly indefatigable metabolism and more food than either of her partners for the night could even hope to eat, and she pressed it against Bliss’s with utter delight. Almost any body could stir Ariana to lust, but soft curves and great heaving breasts had a soft spot in her heart, and even as familiar as she was with Bliss’s, she explored it with great desire and attention, nuzzling between her breasts, kissing at them, caressing her thighs and stroking over her pillowy buttocks.
The two tangled together there on the bed while Letalya made preparations for the rest of the evening. Her handmaid – a delectable young woman who had greedily accepted the unpaid position and its onerous restriction of permanent (at least for the duration of the employment) chastity for her adorable little penis in exchange for the privilege of being near to Letalya’s body daily – took care of the fire, the censer, and much of the cleaning, but certain things she reserved for herself. The hookah was one, and with brass tongs she set an ashy ember from the vessel on the bedside there, lit earlier by the handmaiden. The delicate arrangement of the opium pipe was another, the lamp a surprisingly simple affair free of the household’s usual extravagance, a family heirloom. The sweet scent of the opium warming rose, and mingled with that of the mixture of hashish and sweet muassel curling from the hookah, and with a final check she finally joined her lovers on the bed.
Ariana was lavishing Bliss’s great, soft, pale backside with kisses when she did, and Letalya joined her in doting on their lover, presenting one great, olive-skinned breast to the blonde’s mouth and sighing with pleasure as Bliss happily took to her nipple. It was one of the strange intimacies they shared, feeding each other, and if Ariana were not keeping Bliss occupied as well – one hand in the redhead’s hair to encourage her still – Letalya might have succumbed to the temptation to lie down and take Bliss’s nipple in her own mouth, as they sometimes did. Her fingers found their way between her legs instead, slowly stroking over her dampened lips and through the neatly groomed forest of silk-soft black hair. The two pleasures mingled together, blurring, and she sighed, leaning her head back against the great mound of embroidered pillows.
“I love you both.” She breathily whispered, eyes lidded heavy with arousal as her fingers played and Bliss drew milk into her mouth with each surprisingly demure, ladylike suckle, staring down into the blonde’s eyes. Her other hand slipped down, gently nudging Bliss back from her breast, cupping her cheek.
“You can be yourself. You don’t have to play at being a good lady in here.”
Bliss flushed in response, nodding and pushing back against Ariana even as she did, before kissing against Letalya’s nipple, stilling any answer by taking the rubbery nub back between her lips. Sometimes she needed those actual reminders that it was alright to let the noble ladyhood collapse into honest physicality and raw sensuality, spending so long in it as she did. It was part of the pleasure of these retreats into Letalya’s den, the permission to just… Be, to take off her mask freely without the attendant sadistic torments that usually came whenever her wife ordered her to drop her mask.
Ariana paid the conversation little attention, even as her ears flickered. Her world was Bliss’s ass, her cheek nuzzling against it, lips brushing over the skin. The great pale expanse of skin was marred only by a few fading cane marks, now long past the point of pain, but Ariana nonetheless treated them delicately with only the softest kiss before sliding in closer on the bed and licking her lips, spreading her half-sister’s thick cheeks apart and running her tongue against her delicate pucker, puffy from recent use the day before, a little sore. The deep moan from Bliss only encouraged her, and she ran her tongue in gentle circles, waiting for her to open up and relax.