Some good old fashioned teenage rebellion.

Standing from the bed, she takes your hand and leads you out of the bedroom and into the grandiose halls of the manor. Her pace is brisk and with purpose as she silently pulls you along through her family home. You pay little attention to any of the various art exhibits her family had collected over the years, your attention too focused on her lily-white rear jiggling mesmerizingly with every step until you eventually come upon a pair of heavy, mahogany doors and you put two and two together.

"Oh you naughty little minx," you compliment her with a grin.

"Figured it out, did you?" she says with a smile as she swings the doors open to reveal her father's study.

At first glance, the room resembles that of a small library as fully stocked bookshelves line the walls. At the far end was a heavy wooden desk a deep oak in color polished to an impeccable shine, and above that on the wall flanking it was a grandiose portrait of the current Schnee Family.

You reasoned this to be an older photo, taking note of how much younger Weiss and her elder sister Winter appear. Your Snow Angel couldn't have been any more than twelve when this was taken. More importantly however were their expressions as they both showed clear discomfort being in the presence of their parents. Jacques you could understand quite easily as the man had a notorious reputation for poor character, though their mother was a bit more of an enigma. Willow didn't have much of an expression at all. In fact, her ice blue eyes appeared lifeless and dull. You then recall from the show how Weiss shared a bit of her family's history with Yang during Vol 5, explaining how Jacques had married into the family for money and prestige, and took the family dynasty away from her mother piece by piece over the years. This, coupled with general neglect and poor treatment at the hands of her husband, is what eventually drove her into alcoholism, all but abandoning her three children to their father's machinations, though judging by their expressions it appeared that Whitley was the only one who stood in Jacques' good graces. This seemingly perfect and prestigious family was broken, so you resolved to heal it in the near future. For now though...

"Father only cared about his money and our appearances as a family," Weiss said suddenly as she approached the desk. "My siblings and I were little more than lumps of clay he wanted to shape in his image. He always got his way, no matter what it was. I always hated dressing up to be his perfect little girl..."

"And you want to get back at him by fucking on his desk," you supply with a smile, one she returns in kind.

"Until the wood is so stained and ruined even Klein wouldn't be able to buff it out."

She hops up to sit on the cool wood as she speaks and spreads her legs invitingly whilst a thick stream of white oozes out. Cock in hand, you approach her to fulfill her request and as you press up against her cunt once more, her fingers drop down to spread her lips apart. This time the entry is much easier given how you had already thoroughly stretched her, but the sensation is no less electrifying.

"I could get addicted to this," she moans as you begin pistoning with long strokes.

"I already am," you admit. "You're perfect."

"Aren't you the Prince Charming?" she teases.

"Only the best for my Princess."

Weiss bites down on her lip as you say the word, a pleasurable shudder running through her body.

"My Prince has come," she sighs with satisfaction, her arms draping tenderly over your shoulders. "Save me from this life, this dollhouse. Make all my dreams come true."

You could feel the raw emotion and sincerity in her voice. She was begging to be saved from this miserable life and you had every intention to do so. You quicken the pace, forcing stress-filled squeaks out of the Evil Patriarch's desk and erotic arias from your Snow White. Drops of mixed juices splash about from your vigorous love-making, peppering the polished material with off-white stains. Dipping your head, you drop down to her petite chest and suckle a pointed nipple into your mouth, a nipple you knew one day would leak sweet milk as she bore your children. She threads her hands into your hair, spurring you on as you worship her body, your own hands reaching around to cup and squeeze her pliant ballerina's ass. In no time at all, you were working her towards another climax.

"You're making me cum again, Michael," she whimpers into your hair. "Cum with me, please. I don't want to cum alone. Don't leave me to cum alone...!"

"You're never alone, my darling. Not anymore."

You race to catch up with her, yet your **** thrusts only push her into orgasm that much faster. Her nails dig into your back as she clenches upon you, and this time she doesn't bother to mute herself with a kiss or otherwise. She shrieks her climax to the heavens, forcing you to hastily place a silencing spell on the study lest she wakes the entire manor. With these wails comes a torrent of squirt splashing across your abdomen and a new opportunity far too good to pass up. As you thrust onward into your second orgasm, you pull your body back just enough to lock eyes with your Princess Lover.

"Want to see a little trick?" you rasp.

"Wh... what...? What trick- AHHHH!"

A silent command from you restarts her orgasm and sends her into a shaking fit. Clinging to you for dear life, she bites down hard upon your shoulder as her squirt doubles in volume. This of course sends a third, healthy load of sperm racing through your shaft to join the rest nestled deep within her womb, the strength of the ejaculation forcing you to double over and catch yourself with your hands on the desk, lest you risk crushing the writhing Snow Angel at your mercy.

Grunting with every manic thrust, you clamber up and upon the soiled desk, pushing her forward as you went and hammer away at her soaking depths, breeding her like an animal as she barreled into a third then fourth orgasm within quick succession. She wanted to leave her mark on her father's most treasured sanctuary? You were all too happy to oblige. Thick rivers of spunk was **** out from within her vice-like womanhood, spilling in streams upon what would now be ruined mahogany. Maybe you shouldn't leave behind evidence of your coupling and spare Klein, the family butler, Jacques' well-founded wrath?

"Too... too much...! I.. I-I can't..." Weiss sputtered out incomprehensibly as her eyes began to roll back into her head.

It appeared she was going into shock from the pleasure. Taking mercy on your Snow Angel, you command your powers to cease as her fifth and final orgasm of the night runs its course. She collapses bonelessly beneath you, lungs heaving for air whilst you prop yourself up upon your forearms.

"Weiss? Can you hear me, sweetheart?" you ask with a raspy voice.

"Uh... uh huh..." she barely manages to respond with a nod.

"Do you want to go back to the party?"

"Uh uhhh..." she says, shaking her head with a no.

"Do you want me to take you to bed?"

"Mmmmmm.... please..."

She clings to you once more as the words leave her mouth. As abrasive and overbearing her usual personality could be, you had to admit this sexually sated and nigh exhausted version of the Schnee Heiress was infinitely cuter. Chuckling to yourself, you reluctantly pull free from her thoroughly fucked cunt, a thick river of white seeping out with your departure, and stand. Gingerly, you pull her into a bridal carry and turn to depart, silently erasing the evidence of your coupling as you went. As much as you would love to see Jacques' face upon finding the love juices of his younger daughter seeping into what could only be a desk worth no less than 10 grand in lien, you honestly didn't want to subject Klein to such rage. The family butler was, after all, a rare ray of sunshine in Weiss' upbringing, especially after Winter's departure. Forcing the servant to pay for the Master's transgressions simply didn't sit right with you. Regardless this memory would be for you and your Snow Angel alone, and nobody else.

As you pad quietly down the magnificent hall, a thought occurs to you. Stretching out with your senses, you seek out the other inhabitants of the manor. You find Whitley exactly where you expected him to be; in his bed and dead to the land of the living. You search further until you find the master bedroom of the Schnee Manor which, to no small surprise, was even bigger than some houses. And there, sleeping restlessly in a bed far too big for just a single person, was Willow Schnee the Matriarch herself... with no Jacques to be seen. Was he on some business trip in another kingdom? Or perhaps at the home of some nameless mistress? A check of the immediate surroundings confirmed his absence and presented to you a unique opportunity. You did, after all, have more than enough time to make a little detour...

A/N: I'd like to point out that at the time of this posting, God's Apprentice has been named Story of the Week! This is all thanks to you, our lovely readers, for spurring us on with your likes, feedback, and general enjoyment of our humble smut. So, from the bottom of our loins, we Authors thank you for your continued faps, schlicks, and patronage.