Your mother

You find yourself upon your throne at midnight. The fires are lit and burn brightly, but you are alone. No soft rags of nobility, you wear the armor of your father and his father's father. Black steel, covers your chest, and chain weaves down your limbs, your helm is one hand, your crown, a simple circlet is in the other. The lightning flashes and the wind howls and you embrace it. Power fills your veins. You are the storm.

Your mother enters with the grace of a jungle cat. Her hips swaying with every step, large breasts threatening to fall from that flimsy joke of a dress. Her hair is wound in an intricate style atop her head, the kohl she wears drawing focus to her eyes. Swirling in their jade depths you see so much. Desire, ambition, love and something... else.

She knocks the helm aside and takes the crown from your hands and drags you to your feet. Her stare daring you to act. And you do.

You pull her against you, hard. Your lips smashing into hers, this is no kiss. This is a display of power. She yields to her master and opens to you, even as you demand more. Your hands draw roughly over her sinful body. This woman has tormented you with an unquenchable lust. And you will possess her or die trying. You spin her around so she faces the throne and work your hands over her body. Her breasts are large, yet supply and the smooth unblemished flatness of your mother's belly makes her seem a liar for birthing you. You drink your fill of her delicious form, squeezing her breasts as she gasps, before sliding your hands down to the cleft between her thighs. You can feel the warmth even through her clothes. You will not be denied.

You bite her, on the neck. Hard enough to make her cry out. Your mother wails and you mark her your property. A deep bruise that you will never allow her to hid. The court will see and stare, to hell with them. You tear the dress from her body and expose her to your hungry eyes. The thunder sounds. You are the storm.

You free your manhood and sit upon your throne. A simple gesture sends your mother to her knees. She is fixated upon your cock, her mouth opens wide to take it in and-