The Anniversary

Chapter 1 Part 4

Marcus rushed to his chambers as fast as he could without actually running on the way there. He wasn’t paying attention to his pacing, as his mind was caught in a feedback loop over what had happened. He still couldn’t make full sense of it. What was Emilia thinking? Didn’t she understand the danger? Didn’t she understand the millions of ways it could go wrong, the ways her reputation could be besmirched forever, the extent of the harm she could inflict on the royal family that way? It would have taken a lifetime or more to fix it. And yet…

And yet he couldn’t take his mind off it. At first, he couldn’t believe his own eyes, thinking it a stress-inflicted hallucination. When his brain had processed the image, he didn’t rush to his sister’s aid, or say something, or do anything for that matter. He only stood there, watching, waiting, almost frozen in place.

Aroused out of his mind.

He didn’t know how he made it to his bedroom; his body must have been acting on its own accord. His thoughts dwelt on his sister. Seeing her like that with three men, including men he trusted, lit a seething hatred and jealousy inside of him. It had taken everything in his power not to kill them all right there. It had taken everything in his power not to climax. Those three, they were touching Emilia in places so full of lust, so full of purity, in ways he now very much envied. She had welcomed their advances, and she had known he was looking; this had to be another one of her tricks, another way to f**k with him.

He’d be furious if he wasn’t so horny. He wasn’t thinking straight. His mind was a mess. Maybe she’d gone back to them now that he wasn’t there, but he couldn’t afford to be near her anymore, or he’d do far worse. Gods, she was so young, so tiny, so absolutely perfect. He could remember her sucking on their mother’s teat, or taking a ride on his shoulders, or playing house together.

Barely ten years had gone by since her birth. Nothing about her indicated maturity. She was just a baby. She hadn’t yet had her first period; she wasn’t fertile! But despite that, she’d taken advantage of his loneliness, and his stress, and his weird marriage, and now all he could think of was f*****g her. Some part of him felt like puking, and another part of him made his c**k twitch.

He started undressing; he needed to relieve himself immediately. His thoughts were going in a dangerous direction, and if he didn’t put an end to them, he feared he’d be doing something colossally stupid before long. He didn’t know how he’d clean up. He’d figure that out later. This wasn’t the best place to be doing these things, but at least no one would dare bother him. He could feel a soft breeze against his sweat-covered skin, and he could feel the pounding of his heart. He put his hand on his organ.

The door opened and closed behind him. Someone had entered the room. He panicked; he had been seen. He quickly reached for his discarded clothes and covered himself up as best he could. Not two seconds must’ve had passed before he’d turned around to see who it was, but they had felt like an eternity.

Emilia stood there, a devilish expression on her face, still wearing the black semitransparent barely-a-dress she had all night. He looked at her, and she looked at him. He didn’t know how much time had passed before anyone spoke; it was as if time froze. He couldn’t stand to see her in his condition, especially not dressed like that. He could feel his c**k involuntarily oozing under the robes he’d put over it. “Take her!” his senses said. “Take her now!” He felt like he was going to drop dead from the sheer effort of his resistance.

“Hello, brother,” she said. She took off her footwear and put them in some corner, intentionally drawing as much attention to her body as possible, even in this seemingly innocuous act.

“What are you doing?!” he blurted out. He tried looking around for the rest of his clothes—he was still mostly naked—but he couldn’t take his eyes off Emilia. Her feet were barer now. They were so small, so beautiful, and so perfectly shaped. Oh, how he wished he could be on the carpet right now, so he could feel them against his body.

She approached him. “Did you like my show?” She walked slowly and methodically towards him, shaking her hips on her way there. “I tried so very hard to pull it off right. I studied every day, learning new things, improving my methods.” When she got within reach, she raised her arm and put a finger on his hip.

He pushed her away with as little force as he could. “Why are you doing this?” He tried stepping back, to increase the distance, but he could only make it so far before he was stopped by the bed.

She got from him again. “I told you. You’re easy to tease, and you’re cute when I tease you.” Once again she put a finger on his hip, then started raising it up to his abdomen, feeling his toned muscles. She was so tiny and insignificant compared to him; he was two feet taller. Her fingers felt so soft against his skin. He could feel her warmth. What would it feel wrapped around his c**k?

This time he grabbed her arm. “Emilia. Listen to me. You don’t know what you’re doing. I am your brother, and you are my sister. I’m a married man now. You’re a child. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it can’t be done.” There was something in her eyes when he grabbed her, but it wasn’t fear or surprise. It was different. Could it be, she…?

“I know full well,” she continued. She raised her other arm and now reached his abdomen from the other side. “I know all about it, big brother. I’ve read the royal memoirs, I’ve read our lore and history.” She’d reached the arm that was holding the robes covering his genitals. “I watched on the day of your marriage; you’d asked for the night patrol to keep a distance, so it was easy for me to do. I’ve watched you in all your… In all your glory. I watched as you were denied like a mutt.”

He was trying to process what she was saying with so much passion, so much stress in her voice. Her breaths were deep, exhausted like there was a blockage in her chest. On his wedding night, last year, that’d make her 9 years old. How long had this thing been going on for?

“Emilia, I—”

She put her hand over his. “You don’t have to hide from me, brother. Your queen, she may never understand you, but I am here for you.” She looked up at him with those large, girly blue eyes, and he knew immediately she was speaking from her heart. “You don’t have to be ashamed. These people… they just fear what they don’t understand, and what they cannot match, and what will forever be beyond them. You can show yourself to me. Let it go.”

Marcus could think of a million different reasons why that was a bad idea. There wasn’t any universe wherein that didn’t end up poorly. He wasn’t stupid; he knew what his sister was up to, and he knew how wrong it could go. He could hurt her, or scare her, or traumatise her, and they might be found out and ruin everything he’d built up since coming to power, and maybe scar the nation for decades to come.

And while all of those were valid points, and would be reason enough not to press the matter further individually, never mind in unison, he couldn’t bring himself to turn his sister down. She’d brought her feelings forth in earnest, she’d embraced him so tenderly, and with so much passion, that the thought of discarding her feelings and stepping on them was scarier than any of the other possibilities. She was ultimately his only little sister, and if there was anything he hated above all else, it was her being sad or worrying that her big brother didn’t love her back as much as she hoped he did.

Begrudgingly, he let go of his sister’s arm and the cloth over his groin. The garment fell to his feet; he couldn’t hear the sound over his own heart’s thumping. He was fully visible to Emilia now, as visible as the day he was born. A flurry of emotions hit him: shame, disgust, guilt, but also other, more enjoyable things. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. There was no going back from this. This night was only going to end one way.

Emilia gasped upon the sight that differentiated her brother the most from ordinary men. Though his other qualities were truly remarkable, this was the one that put the matter to rest. The people called their king and their crown prince “the Stallion”, but contrary to popular belief, this wasn’t originally intended to denote vigour, or strength, or freedom. The meaning was far less symbolic than that: the royal males’ genitals weren’t human.

The affliction was the result of sorcery whose specifics have long since been obscured. No one knew whether it was intended as a gift or as a curse, but either way, it was supernatural in origin and in the traits it bestowed. The king’s body was always inherently strong, large, and durable. His s****l fluids held powerful rejuvenating properties and were also a great help for making his receptive partners more… suitable. With some creativity, they could produce effects more exciting still.

Emilia had read everything she could find on the subject in the royal library. She wondered what the limits could be. Her parents did seem to age very gracefully, almost intentionally. Was their retirement something borne of old age and tiredness, or were they planning on living the rest of eternity in immortalised youth?

Her royal highness, the queen, had shown none of that curiosity and instead had crawled away in fear and disgust. She’d treated Emilia’s dear brother like an animal, even after he’d tried explaining to her what his condition meant. She’d spouted some moralistic inanities and lambasted “b********y”; she denied her own husband the embrace and the release he deserved. If she’d been with anyone else, her marriage would have been annulled, or she would’ve been dead, or she would’ve been forced to bed him. There would eventually be questions about her infertility. Emilia couldn’t stand the thought of her brother spawning a successor with that ugly, close-minded, and excruciatingly mediocre wench. Their blessed bloodline would never recover.

No. If her brother was to mate and bond with someone like that, if he was going to share his ancient secret, then he deserved doing it with someone who loved him and adored him just the way he was, politics be damned. If he wouldn’t have a mistress carry his child and be the wife his queen refused to be, then Emilia herself would fill that role. There was no one in the world who cared for him the way she did, no one more willing to perform her duties than she, no one a more natural partner in the world. She was most compatible because she was his little sister.

She had seen her brother’s might from behind a keyhole, or a gap, or hidden behind curtains and under furniture; she also wasn’t a stranger to the stables and the wild fury that possessed the males. Still, being that close to her brother was a different matter altogether. The strong musk assaulted her nostrils, the stench as inhuman as the shape. It was a foot long and only partially erect; she knew it would reach a ludicrous size with a little encouragement.

“Oh, big brother,” she gasped, grasping his flesh with her small hands. Marcus shivered to the sensation, a storm of conflicting emotions still raging inside of him. It was Emilia’s responsibility to quell it, to give him so much pleasure that he forgot his hesitations. Her juvenile hands couldn’t hope to wrap around Marcus’ girth, which must have been over a foot; he was four inches wide. The mere fact of her holding it was obscene; someone so young and petite being in touch with something so large and beastly. It was as if they were two different species.

She stroked its length gently, from the base to the tip, covering as much of her brother’s flesh as she could. Her own heart was racing with the act, not quite believing what she was seeing. She was enthralled by her brother’s size now that she had made direct contact with him. She doubted she’d ever look at a normal man the same way again. The greatest men would be dwarfed by what her brother could give her. All plans for her marriage were moot; her heart belonged to Marcus now, if it hadn’t before.

Marcus’ breaths gradually turned from ones of anxiety to ones of pleasure, as more and more blood reached his massive organ and inflated it further. “You are so big,” Emilia said, feeling the blood being pumped under the skin. “You are greater and more beautiful than I ever imagined.” She kept stroking his length with one hand, as she moved the other down to his testicles, which were as grotesquely oversized as his p***s.

Emilia’s hands felt softer than the softest silk against his d**k. He felt the tiny appendages dancing on his genitals, feeling his size, worshipping him in their own way. He could climax from her hands if he let himself; the sensation was that great. He couldn’t believe his little sister was touching him this way, that she was doing it so passionately and of her own will. It felt so dirty and forbidden; a 10-year-old’s hands wrapped around a horse c**k.

“I love you, big brother,” Emilia continued while maintaining her stroking, gently fondling Marcus’ balls and tracing his still expanding length. “I’ve loved you for so long, I don’t remember myself before that. When you got married, I… I didn’t know what to do. I was there, I was looking at you that night. You don’t know what it took not to burst into the room and hold you like this.”

Marcus looked down on her after her confession. His p***s had reached its full length of two feet. Emilia rested his shaft on her right shoulder and then leaned on it, rubbing her cheek against the flesh. The size discrepancy was uncanny; his phallus was gigantic compared to any part of her anatomy. It was as long as her arm and as wide as her thigh. If his blood pressure wasn’t helping to keep it erect, she’d probably strain under the weight of his meat.

Emilia brought both her arms to it, holding it tenderly like she was trying to hold a baby. “I feared you’d never let me hold you like this,” she said, want outpouring from the intonation of every word. “To be able to touch you so privately, I’ve only dreamed of it. It’s like I’m still dreaming. I feel like my life is complete now; that I’ve achieved my purpose, my ultimate goal.” She spaced these words out with kisses, her tiny, moist lips gracing his enormous c**k like manna from heaven. Every time she did so, his p***s twitched with pleasure, every touch being a struggle against orgasm. She wasn’t doing anything to him, but it felt like the most ecstatic bliss, something unique, that only she could offer. The mere sight of her being like this was incredibly arousing.

It took great effort to interrupt her embrace, but his desire to embrace her back was greater. “Oh, Emilia…,” he said, dropping to his knees so that their postures were more even. Her expression was irresistible; her wide, beautiful eyes; the cute proportions on her face that only a child could bear; her half-opened mouth, tiny and crimson lips glistening with traces of her own saliva. He couldn’t bear to only look, and with both his arms around her, he locked his lips with hers.

He’d intended for it to be a sweet and loving kiss, but he lost himself in it with wild abandon, like he was trying to vent all of his frustrations through it, and so he pressed himself against her tightly, shoving his adult tongue in the preteen’s mouth and exploring every cell of her cavity. He touched her young tongue with him, he tasted her saliva, and he felt her wet warmth enveloping him. He kept it going for long, much longer than would seem appropriate, covering Emilia’s face with their combined spit that couldn’t be contained, trickling down her throat.

Emilia was gasping for air as best she could. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to kiss him back, though her childish tongue was no match. He rubbed his hands on her back, taking in the softness of her flesh, the outline of her ribs and her spine, lowering them dangerously close to her butt.

After a while, Emilia started spasming, her posture wavering, as she focused on her taboo orgasm. Her brother was kissing her. Her big brother was ravaging her mouth like it would save the world. She could feel his p***s against her; even in this position, it was too big to avoid. She felt it on her legs, and on her belly. She could feel its movements matching Marcus’ heartbeat, could hear its silent cries for her body. Her big brother wanted to be inside her, perhaps more than she wanted him to enter her.

Though his aching had far from subsided, Marcus broke the kiss, because Emilia was having trouble catching her breath, and he didn’t want her to fall unconscious. Her mouth stayed open like that for a short while, strands of spit connecting them, then breaking and falling on her. Marcus embraced her again, this time in a hug, petting her softly, protectively.

“Big brother,” she exhaled heavily. “My first kiss. My first love.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how you felt. I didn’t know my little sister was like that.”

Emilia found the strength to speak, though her mouth felt a little bit strained. “It’s okay. It’s alright. All that matters is that you love me now. Everything else is in the past.” She hugged him back, though she couldn’t wrap her arms completely around him. She felt his toned, powerful muscles of his large body. She had never felt so secure before. “Although I must admit, it would’ve been nice if you had picked up on it a bit sooner.”

“How long has it been like this?”

“It’s been a long time.” Emilia chuckled. “I remember walking in on you having a bath; you were so taken aback!”

After such an emotional roller-coaster, it was difficult for Marcus to immediately grab the image from memory. After a few seconds, when he recalled it, he was once again taken aback so much that he broke the hug.

“Really? But, that must have been—”

“About five years ago,” Emilia interjected. She grinned widely, as she reached down to Marcus’ d**k, and began stroking it again. “I remember going to sleep every night with the thoughts of my big brother. I kept thinking about you over and over and over, obsessively fantasising about us being together, doing stuff. Horrible, taboo stuff, beyond all reaches of decency, stuff no kid should think of.”

She placed a hand on her stomach and rubbed the area while tracing as much of Marcus’s length as she could with the other. “And during the really hot nights, I dreamt of my big brother snapping, losing it, and sneaking into my room. I dreamt of you feeling my young body up, even as I was conflicted and confused; I dreamt of that huge horse c**k forcing itself inside your 5-year-old sister, dreamt of being split in half.”

Her arousal was dripping down her legs, and she brought Marcus’ erection to her thighs and her crotch so he could feel it. “I couldn’t tell you how many times I thought of that, it must be thousands by now. My little body felt so hot and tingly, and despite not knowing what I felt, I knew what I wanted and why. When I pictured my baby womb being utterly crushed and bruised, it was as if everything stopped existing, and nothing else mattered.”

She edged herself closer to him, rubbing herself on him. He could feel the bottom of her dress against his c**k and his legs; he could feel her hard n*****s through the fabric. Though the words coming out of his sister’s mouth disgusted him and creeped him out, the very fact of hearing something so obscene coming from her filled him with a deep, dark desire.

She was now whispering in his ear. “I tried so hard to seduce you, to tease you, to make you lay aside your qualms and your morality and show your insolent tease of a sister why she shouldn’t mess with adults. Every time you got annoyed, my tiny p***y was dripping from the thought of being manhandled, dropped to the floor, and turned into a kiddy c**k sleeve. I wanted you to own me, to pummel me with fury and lust, to expose my disgrace in front of everyone, in front of parents; little Emilia playing with her dolls, little Emilia tore in two by her brother.”

Marcus was harder than rock now. Thinking back on all his memories with Emilia, they acquired a whole different colour in the knowledge of her depravity. The possibilities of what he could’ve done but hadn’t been enough to drive him crazy.

“So that’s why you tried to prostitute yourself in front of my eyes,” Marcus realised.

“Yes, brother. I wanted you to look. I wanted you to see it. See what those animals had snatched while you doubted yourself.” She raised both her arms up, in a replay of what had happened before. As she described the events, Marcus reenacted them on her. “They felt me up everywhere. They put their tongues on my armpits and swallowed my sweat. They tasted my developing glands like they were sweet nectar.”

“They touched my breasts, flat as the day I was born, the ultimate mark of a child, and they grabbed them and squeezed them and pinched them. They enjoyed them more than the full chests of a fertile woman, they indulged in their sick, twisted desires. They felt my overflowing arousal, trickling down my young thighs. They craved for my underage p***y that dribbled more than a trained slut.”

Her breathing was growing heavy, and her speech slow as her arousal increased. “And then… and then… they felt up my back, slowly, methodically, all the way to my butt. Then, they— Oh, brother!”

“Continue,” Marcus whispered in her ear.

“Using a finger, they felt my dirtiest spot, they— ah!” She exclaimed in a cute, high pitch, as her brother carried the acts out like she was giving him instructions. She could hardly keep going, as the fantasy she’d constructed earlier today was becoming reality in front of her. “They touched me where I poop from, brother! Ah! They… they wanted to sodomise me, they wanted to shove their decadent p*****s in my tight kiddy arsehole, but you didn’t let them! Oh, brother, I want you so much.”

She pushed Marcus back with as much force as he could muster, and he obliged by falling on the bed. Emilia stood upright, and raised her hands behind her neck, undoing the knot that held her dress in place. It fell to the floor, and now she stood before him as naked as he was. Marcus took in the sight; her tight, underage body, so slim and soft.

Emilia stood on Marcus’ lap, kissing him lightly on the lips. Then she arched back a little, grabbed his p***s, and placed it against her abdomen and chest, drawing attention to how insane the difference was. His shaft was practically half her standing height, so placed like that it covered her entire upper body.

“You are so big, brother,” she said, placing both her arms on it, giving a hug to the equine member. “It’s going to hurt so much inside me. It’s going to hurt so well. Big brother’s cock.”

She placed her tongue on his c**k tip and started licking it, taking in the taste and the smell. The stink was powerful and masculine and distinctly her brother’s; she couldn’t mistake it for anything else. The sensory overload made her dizzy. She toyed around with the head, licking around it and under it, while rubbing her arms, torso, thighs, and groin against it, stimulating it with her entire little body. She could feel Marcus’ heartbeat through it, granting it heat, and making it erect. She couldn’t believe how much of her it covered and wanted to touch every part of it with her body.

Marcus was covered in his little sister’s warmth. Her soft skin felt completely different from his own, her body acting like a cocksleeve even on the outside. Looking at the young child trying to juggle such a massive organ excited him; he was oozing precome now. As soon as she noticed it, Emilia scooped it up with her tongue, and then kept drinking it, sticking her small tongue inside his Peehole so she could taste it straight from the source.

Already she could feel its effects on her, changing her little body so that it could house it without destroying her. She grew more daring, placing larger, longer kisses and licks on his shaft. She lowered her hands between his thighs, reaching for his testicles, and holding them both in her combined grip, or at least as much of them as she could muster with her petite form. As more fluids flowed out of Marcus, she drank them up while massaging his sack.

“Big brother, I want you to kiss me in my deepest part, where no man could ever hope to reach. I want to taste your every inch.”

Marcus couldn’t think of much in his condition. “Emilia…,” he mumbled. Inside, he was still struggling with how far he could take it with her, despite knowing they’d already crossed so many boundaries and broken so many rules. And yet, that tiny mouth, those soft lips, they enticed him to no end. His protective instincts told him not to hurt her, but she had said she wanted to be hurt, and so a forbidden, unspoken part of him quietly demanded that he oblige.

“I need an answer. You need to decide fast, or else…” She squeezed his balls, and yet more precome came forth, as if on command. “You’re so close.” She turned her massage more powerful, and more sensual like she was milking a cow. “Quick, or you’ll spray it like a fountain on me. You will shower me in your milk.”

“Y-yes. Emilia, I want to feel you, too.”

She looked so satisfied with the sound of his words. “I love you, big brother,” she said. She kissed the sides of his glans widely, experimenting with how much of his p***s she could fit in her mouth, and consuming his precome periodically. When she felt bold enough, she opened her mouth wide and tried fitting his head in. The penetration seemed impossible; it was like trying to swallow an arm. However, where there are a magically enchanted royal bloodline and a will, there’s away.

Emilia’s mouth was stretched well beyond what should be her natural limits; by all accounts, she should have dislocated her jaw and torn her lips. She had Marcus’ excretions to thank for not screaming in agony as she managed to fit his full girth in her with great effort. It took some time for her to get used to being stretched so much, but soon her interest was reinvigorated.

She pressed more of the pole inside of her as she licked his under shaft, quickly filling up her mouth. Marcus was letting out loud gasps of pleasure, but she had no plans of stopping. Repositioning herself so that her neck and torso had a smoother angle, she kept forcing inches down her gullet. She felt her sphincters giving way as the horse c**k entered her oesophagus and expanded it to an almost comical degree. But even still she yearned for more, and gulped down the seemingly unending length on offer as it pressed down on her lower sphincter and teased her stomach; then like it, too, gave way and opened access to her little belly, now populated with her brother’s flare.

“Goodness, Emilia!” Marcus blurted out. His little sister had bent over his groin and had somehow stuffed a full foot of his phallus in her. There was no greater expression of their differences than the knowledge of only being halfway done. Despite that, the sensation made everything else Marcus had experienced pale in comparison; her tightness was bordering on the uncomfortable, and her heat and wetness surrounded him from every direction. He hadn’t fully come to terms with current events, but it was undeniable now: he was f*****g his little sister.

Emilia let things be momentarily, mostly for her own comfort than anything else. When she felt her breath running short, she pulled her head up and reversed the process, until the organ was outside her again—dripping in her fluids—and she was frantically catching her breath.