Tipping The Scales Chapter 3 (World's Best Parenting)

	Robin froze, shock overtaking him and he stumbled backwards tripping over the desk chair, slamming into the ground with a heavy thud. As he shook the stars from his eyes and tried to scramble backwards Tharja stalked towards him like a predatory beast, giggling worryingly all the while. Words sputtered out of his mouth, escaping his lips. "T-Tharja, I--" Tharja swooped down, hawk-like, straddling him and pushing her husband to the ground with a finger over his lips to silence him. She shushed him soft and low when he tried to speak, tried to justify his unnatural actions. A few moments they sat in silence, flesh pressed against flesh in a quiet that would have been comfortable for their years together if not for the events that had already transpired in the last hour and the madness in her eyes, dark and deep indeed (as normal as it may be for his wife). She stared deep into his eyes, and he found he could not look away, like a spell had come over him. Finally, she spoke in the low sultry voice she usually used when they were alone (and they were alone in a sense) "Oh, Robin. I always knew you were a beast, but our daughters? Sweet, innocent Morgan and..." She visibly struggled for a moment, trying to find something good to say about her eldest daughter "... beautiful, timid Noire? How could you do such a thing? ... Without inviting me." The smile on her face widened and she pressed closer to him, scooting ever so slightly up to meet face to face. Again, Robin tried to speak and again she pressed her finger firmly against his lips.
	"You don't get to speak, my love. Not yet, anyway. You know me better than anyone else in a truly... intimate sense. And you know that I am a jealous woman." Part of him, no, most of him screamed that this was about to go very, very badly (while a tiny corner of his mind cheering on whatever was about to happen) yet still he felt locked, unmoving and unflinching from her gaze as she continued "And you lay with another woman, in our tent, while I watched you. Twice!" Her smile became wicked, corners of her mouth turning upwards and quiet, sinister giggling filled the gaps between her words. "It's a good thing for you that it wasn't really cheating on me. You were just... teaching them, and if they want you to teach them again, well, who could blame them for desiring someone as special as you." Tenderness flickered in her eyes for a moment before returning to the depths of madness. "Just remember that even if I'll share this with them, you are mine, as I am yours. Dark Mages don't share our toys..." The warmth and wetness accumulating on his stomach from his wife jolted his cock to artificial life, aware that it's services would likely be required for the third time in an hour very, very shortly. The floor, packed earth covered by a thin, almost non-existent rug became increasingly uncomfortable as she held his face with both hands and giggled manically.
	"Oh, I know just what to do with you..." She stood up, pulling herself off of his chest, shuffling to his side. Her fingers snapped and he felt his body pull itself into motion without his direction, going through the motions of standing up. That was new. Tharja must have noticed the flicker of worry across his face, because she spoke in a dead voice to him, "Relax, it's just a little hex to get you moving."  That was a worrying development, but it wasn't like he could do much of anything about it as she manipulated him like a puppet, moving on her command. He was stopped in front of their bed, a mattress on a small raised platform. It's current inhabitant, Noire, was cocooned in the sheet on the bed to cover her nakedness and was locked in shallow slumber. Hot breath cascaded over the back of his neck as his wife drew intimately close, wrapping her arms around his stomach and whispering into his ear as best as she could. "Look at how poorly she sleeps. She may have tired but she was not finished, my love. You did not give her your all like you did with Morgan. Will you not show your other daughter all of your love? Or will she simply... take it from you?" One of her hands had found it's way down to his cock and had been lightly stroking it and teasing the head, preparing it and him for... something.
	Gently she compelled him to sit, and then lie down on the bed next to Noire, Tharja shadowing him as she conducted his actions. He lay paralyzed half-sitting and half-lying against the table that doubled as the headboard, able only to watch as his wife moved quietly to straddle Noire in her sleep. Gently, gently Tharja tapped her eldest daughter on the face, ignoring Noire's gentle mumbling for "five more minutes" as she slowly woke. Her eyes gently fluttered open, and she exclaimed twice. The first was of surprise as she met her mother's eyes, causing her to slide and scramble with a speed he wasn't aware she had. The second was of pain as she collided with the headboard not a foot and a half from where she had been sleeping, ending her quest for escape as she held her head and whimpered. Tharja had followed, pulling the blanket off of Noire as she went and gently grasping at her daughter's head, peeling her hands off of the newly-formed bruise. Noire's eyes flicked from side to side, seeing her father resting in bed next to her and ready for 'action', her mother smiling unnervingly, and her younger sister Morgan passed out over the table. To her credit, she managed to get a word out before Tharja silenced her. "M-mother-" "Quiet." Robin watched as his wife stared down his daughter in a strangely erotic fashion. Every time Noire wilted under her gaze, Tharja would pull her back up again to stare into her eyes. For about a minute this strange dance went on before his wife spoke again in a reluctant tone. "Well, I suppose I can't blame you for having excellent taste in men." Suddenly, she dragged Noire into a deep, passionate kiss, startling him as much as it did Noire. She struggled for a moment before giving in to her mother's advances, cautiously kissing her back. Gods on high, he thought, this shouldn't make him as hard as it did. Seconds passed as he watched his wife and daughter before they finally broke apart, Noire gasping for breath and Tharja giggling even more intently.
	"Not bad. I'd wager he taught that to you," Tharja said, gesturing with a flick of her head to Robin. "W-well, yes-" "Don't care. Doesn't matter. What I'm about to teach you is a lot more important, so pay attention." Roughly she dragged Noire into a semi-standing position, his daughter stumbling as she went from lying down to standing in under a second. By her hair Tharja lead Noire over to Robin's paralyzed form, his eyes tracking their movement. She forced their daughter onto his body, straddling his stomach and waist like the two of them had done not but moments ago, gently resting on his erect cock and causing Noire to shiver, her hair falling back down over her neck while Tharja leaned down to her ear and whispered conspiratorially but just loudly enough for Robin to hear, "If you want something in life, you have to take it, girl." Robin watched with a combination of awe, lust and horror as his wife lifted up her eldest daughter by the arms and shoulders (Noire struggling only slightly against her mother) and positioning her entrance over the head of his cock. Noire had clenched her eyes and mouth shut, but the flow from between her legs symbolized her acquiescence to what was (surely) about to follow. "Are you ready, girl?" A short, sharp set of nods. "Well then. Arms on his chest, grind at the base, and ride." With that, Tharja let go of Noire's arms and shoulders, causing her to drop halfway down his length and engulfing him in heat and tightness again. His daughter's head jerked back and she let out a sharp gasp which dragged out into a moan as Tharja pressed softly on her shoulders, pushing her further down his length. Had he been able to, he would grit his teeth. Alas, all he could do was sit there, back curved and staring alternatively into his wife and daughter's eyes as she taught her how to be a woman.
	The soft pressure of Noire's hands on his chest as she was pushed down his length distracted him from the torrent of sensations, allowing him to bring to focus the guidance and whispers that Tharja was putting into his daughter's ear. "He's big, isn't he? You'll get used to it, and it's better that way. Relax, all this tension is going to hurt you much more than he will." This was hardly the same quiet, jealous woman he knew, but they had been one and the same all along. His daughter was shaking as she took him to the hilt, so his wife being more of a pervert than usual was probably the least of his worries. Eventually Noire rested, hips locked against his and cock buried all the way inside of her, occasionally touching her burning core. She whimpered and moaned as Tharja carefully rubbed at her shoulders, neck, and chest, occasionally playing with her nipples before gently encouraging her to move again, grinding at the base once, twice, before lifting up and beginning the cycle anew.  She pulled herself off almost to the tip before plunging down again all at once, slamming her hips to his and forcing more moans out of her throat. Three times this repeated before Tharja let go of her daughter and moved to Robin. Noire continued, no longer needing her mother's assistance to claim what she sought. His wife leaned down to his ear and whispered "Our daughter has grown into a fine woman, love. Look as she moans like a whore as she takes her father's cock." Giggles and whimpers from the two women filled his ears for a moment before Tharja whispered again. "But now I'm afraid that I have need of your services. Hold still." A shuffling sound from out of sight, and his view of his daughter was replaced by a view of Tharja's lower lips, gently spread by her fingers to reveal the pinkish flesh within. "Eat up, love." A sense of newfound freedom filled him as he realized he could move his head and neck, but all he really wanted was above him to begin with as she lowered herself to his face. His tongue darted out of his lips to go between hers, head and neck rising to meet his wife's most secret place. The bitter tang of her juices on his tongue was familiar and welcome to him, and he sought it out further along the edges of her lips and just inside of whence it flowed. Another set of hands joined his daughter's on his chest as Tharja leaned forwards and gasped when he gently teased her hidden clit through it's hood. Another set of soft pants filled the air and another set of breaths grew heavy beneath his ministrations.
	Somewhere above him his wife was murmuring to Noire, but focused as he was and buried as he was it was incomprehensible to him, all sounds growing slowly faster and more unpatterned, whimpers turning into gasps turning into long, pleasured moans as he practiced another of his arts upon Tharja. Above him, his daughter still rode him, bouncing along his shaft and probably assisted by her mother, if her posture over him meant anything. She twitched and bounced, ground and groaned, her voice growing louder when not occasionally silenced by his wife's mouth. If only he could use his hands! Tharja occasionally twitched away from his questing tongue and he longed to drink deep of her juices. Straining against the hex he twitched his arms, unable to move them far but sliding them as much as he could. Soft laughter from his wife ensued. "What's the matter dear? Can't quite reach what you want?" Her laughter was cut short by a deeper lick than usual, but only for a moment. She continued to jink slightly out of range of his ministrations, teasing him with her now dripping entrance. He struggled and strained, face flushing, before the curse snapped like so much cloth and his arms shot up to Tharja's waist, dragging her down with a yelp onto his mouth. She had let go of her daughter (who by now was doing quite fine with her own actions) and began trying to pry Robin's hands off of her waist where they were pinning her hips to his mouth as he administered to her cleft. It took her mere moments to give up and fall nearly double to his chest, unable to do much other than gasp and watch her daughter give in to pleasure, spasming and moaning her father's name into the air freely but not quite stopping.
	With curse shattered, his hips were free to pound up into her daughter as she slowed her own motions, dragging out the length of her teeth-chattering climax, teenage depths sucking and pulling on his cock and bringing him to the edge where he had lingered -- and dragging him over. Noire attempted to pull off in a panic as the first burst inside of her splattered her depths, but found herself unable as Tharja hugged her waist tightly and dragged her down. Mother struggled against daughter as he poured himself inside Noire's innermost place, small streams of white dripping out of her as she eventually gave up and fell on top of her mother, pinning her hips to his face. Tharja was dragged closer and closer to her own climax, pinned by her daughter and unable to escape, before a groan from the other side of the room froze them all in place. Not that he could tell what it was, but from his memory he guessed who it was. "Mother? N-Noire? What are you doing?!" Noire, panting and nearly comatose as she was failed to respond, but Tharja shakily pulled herself to her full height (as full a height as she could while her hips were locked over her husband's face). "Why, Morgan, we're just enjoying your father's lovely company and... services, just as you did." He could just hear the devilish smirk that surely covered Tharja's face in her voice. "Care to join us?" A silence of acquiescence followed with a frantic nodding of head and an eep of surprise as Morgan locked lips with her mother.
	Eventually Noire pulled herself off of him and collapsed at his side, exhausted from two rounds of 'teaching' from him. She lay there, breathing heavily and unable to move properly, all sense of movement banished from her thoughts. Tharja had stood up off of his face, sliding out of his weakened grip to deepen the kiss with her youngest daughter for another moment before breaking away, and hushing Morgan's insistent whine with a finger over her lips. Morgan was directed with a firm yet gentle hand to plant her hips over her father's face, depths still occasionally dripping with his seed (which strangely thrilled him). Noire, in her exhausted state was pulled up and pressed against Morgan, who quickly took charge of a kiss between them, fondling Noire with her free hands as she kept herself upright in her exhaustion. Their mother watched them briefly, and directed Morgan in planting her hips over her father's stained face, and he quickly got to work, causing Morgan to gasp with excitement as he explored her depths, occasionally cleaning himself from inside of her. It was not long before he felt warmth teasing at his cockhead again when Tharja tired of spectating. A mild, reflexive thrust of his hips caused a giggle from her, higher pitched than he remembered before she plunged down upon him. She was familiar to him, perhaps not nearly as novel but familiar and almost comforting, like a warm bed returned to many times, and she knew much more about him and herself than either of her daughters. A muttered incantation returned him to full mast inside of her and eased his weariness (although he knew it would return twofold later) before she settled into a familiar rhythm of slow, long strokes alternated by deep pushes and grinding along his hips. His youngest daughter's depths, closer as they were, held more interest to him but he still occasionally thrust into his wife to complement her rhythm, earning a hum of approval from her each time. His daughter was much easier to please than his wife and he contented himself with testing what actions would cause which reactions from her young body. And above all of it, he could hear his eldest child whimpering as her sister played with her, powerless to resist. All of this was wrong (but it felt right to him) and yet he couldn't have been happier with it.
	His wife, surprisingly, was the first to break the comfortable system that she had arranged when she clenched down hard upon him with herdepths trying to milk him dry with hard and fast pulls while she cursed him in three languages in long and gasping breaths, nails digging into his hips when she came. Her built up tension released, she relaxed for but a moment before continuing long enough to drag a third orgasm from him that day, the iron tension in his stomach drained into hers in long, stringy ropes buried in her core. Satisfied, she pulled off of him with a long sigh and quiet laugh to some private joke only she knew, leaning forwards to drag her eldest child into her own ecstasy by sliding her fingers inside of her most sacred place causing Noire to moan like a banshee, thighs clenching around Robin's midsection while she leaned into her younger sister's shoulder, hugging her all the tighter. Morgan's moans and gasps turned to soft laughter -- so much like her mother-- which built as Robin accelerated his efforts as she built to a crescendo when her back arched and she half-screamed, half-laughed her way to mental oblivion as she stained his face with her juices. Morgan tried to pull herself off of him with shaky legs, but found herself incapable of motion with her moment of weakness and her sister wrapped around her. With her mother's assistance, Noire was set down on the bed and wrapped her arms around her father before passing out. Giggling slightly, Tharja and Morgan arranged themselves around Robin, his daughter on his left with arms around his neck, and his wife on top of him, hugging her family close to her and pulling the sheets over the lot of them. Robin could only think of one thing to whisper to his wife as his children passed into the land of dreams;
	"We are really going to need to change that sheet."