Zuko's Choice

The prince felt weakness in his body as he carefully explored the girl's body, her tanned skin, her well-defined muscles, her small breasts... he hated that feeling. Why was he feeling weak? He wanted to enjoy this, she was the girl he loved!

He couldn't even bring himself to roll on top of her, they were just lying next to each other, touching, kissing, caressing...

He heard the door open. Both flinched at the sound and looked up. It was his sister.

"Zuzu", she purred before he could reprimand her about coming into his room. "You can't be serious?"

He felt angry and frustrated and powerless. How could she always talk to him in such a condescending manner? Why could she come into his room, interrupt him while being intimate with a girl, and still make him feel like he was the one who did something wrong? No matter what he tried, his attempts to change their power dynamics just always ended in embarrassment. He didn't have any natural authority. He was a lost cause and he fucking hated it.

"Zula, leave us alone."

She just laughed with that dismissive, arrogant laugh that she did so well. He admired and hated her for it.

The water-tribe girl had gotten up, standing completely naked in front of his sister. "Leave him alone, Azula!"

A split second Prince Zuko felt good about her standing up for him, then he realized how pathetic that was. The two girls were standing there, facing each other while he was still lying on the bed like the weakling he was. And Azula was fully aware of that. "Aw, how sweet. She's protecting you, brother! Did she give you the breast already?"

Finally he got up. He felt ashamed to be naked in front of his sister, but he knew that covering himself would just make him appear even weaker. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Azula just smirked. "Don't you see what you're doing, Zuzu? You don't want that peasant girl! You don't desire her! You can't even properly fuck her! Are you sure she's your lover and not your mother?"

"What are you talking about? And stop calling me Zuzu!"

Suddenly, his sister took a step forward and put her hands on his chest. He immediately felt the little resolve he had weaken. Why did she always have that effect on him...?

"Zuko", she whispered seductively. "Believe it or not, I love you. I want to help you. If you want to be Firelord, you need to be a real man first. Stop suckling at the girl's tits because she showed you compassion. You don't need compassion."

Her voice befogged and caressed his mind. He found himself unable to talk back to this beautiful temptress. Whatever she said, she was right, and he wanted nothing more than for her to like him, to approve of what he did. He cursed himself, but he realized that this was in fact what he had always strived for - not his father's approval, but Azula's. He tried to calm his trembling hands.

"Don't listen to her, Zuko", Katara softly said. "You're stronger than her! A better person!" But her words seemed empty. For a moment he remembered when she had saved his life, but now, for the first time, he realized Azula was right. How pathetic of him to idolize her for that! To emasculate himself even further!

"Zuko", Azula whispered again. "We both know who you really desire. Who you really deserve."

She took his hand and carefully guided it to her chest, allowing him to feel her full, round breasts under the soft fabric. She moved his hand down to the gentle curve of her waist, to her hips, to her perfect, pert little butt. He grabbed it and heard her gasp in surprise, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he could be the one in power in their relationship, that Azula could follow his lead one day.

He wanted her. More than anything else he had ever wanted. He wanted to fuck his little sister's brains out.

It wasn't ****. He didn't want to overpower her to make up for how she treated him. He wanted her. And he wanted to earn her admiration, her love, her approval. He wanted her to be his.

"Zuko, what are you doing?", Katara's inharmonious voice disrupted his thoughts. Without thinking, he slapped her face. When he looked back at Azula, she smiled. She was so beautiful...

"Zuko...", Katara said again, this time with tears in her eyes and a look of disbelief on her face. The prince grabbed her roughly and threw her on the bed. "You've wasted my time long enough, whore." He couldn't believe anymore that a few minutes ago, he had looked up to her, wanted her love, couldn't even fuck her. What else was she good for?

"Zuko, please-", she said, but was cut short by him ramming his erect cock in her mouth. Not giving her time to prepare, he started throatfucking her violently. It wasn't her plain face or her average body or even the wet feeling in her mouth that gave him his raging hard-on, it was the feeling of being in power, for the first time in so long. She was his plaything to enjoy for a while and then get rid of.

Her face was a mess of tears and saliva, and it didn't take him long to come, send all his semen down her throat without mercy. He felt like all his past, the weak, pathetic, needy Zuko he had been went out of him with it. It was bad cum, enough for this peasant girl. He was glad he had fucked her first to get rid of it - because his sister deserved better. Azula deserved pure cum from the new, true Prince Zuko, he wouldn't want to taint her with this product of his old, rotten self. Now he was clean, rid of the spoiled, bad parts within him.

As he turned around, ignoring the crying Katara on the bed, Azula had already dropped her robe, presenting her utterly flawless, perfect, smooth, white body. Her black hair was impeccable as always, her golden eyes burned with seductive passion. He looked at her with adoration, lust and desire. He had always felt that lust for his sister deep inside, but now he realized that if he had ever had sex with her, he would have just apotheosized her for it, counting himself lucky for receiving her mercy and generosity, while at the same time hating her.

Now it was different. Now she was his, and she wanted him, wanted to submit to him. There was neither hate nor inadequacy. She wasn't above him, she wasn't his enemy anymore. She was the perfect sister, the perfect lover, the perfect Queen for the future Firelord.

Tomorrow he would thank her for making him see the light, and apologize for not trusting her sooner. But now, she needed him to be the strong, unapologetic, self-reliant Firelord she deserved.

He pulled Azula onto the bed and kissed her on the mouth. This would be a long night.

This was a response to a prompt on /r/DirtyWritingPrompts