My Evil Stepmother

Ah yes. Your Father's final bride. He'd had three wives in his time. The first was political, and ultimately ended in divorce. You saw pictures of her...She seemed beautiful and kind, if plain, and you hope she is well. The second was your mother, who tragically died in childbirth with you. She was much more...conventionally beautiful for an Olarian woman. Her breasts were beyond modest, and her figure spoke of the country's belief in aesthetic and sexual superiority...It's not weird that you think that about your mom.

However, they both are nothing next to your Stepmother Lydia. Her current title is Queen Widow, placing her below you, officially. She married your father just three years ago, and you can understand why. Her breasts are so large that when you first met her and tried to hug her, you couldn't even reach her back. Her hips flare out giving her an hourglass figure-that is, her hips, ass and thighs match her unbelievably huge chest. Her midsection is actually not that thin, but compared to her voluptuous curves, it strains credulity that she can manage to move as gracefully as she does. Her face is easily the most beautiful you've ever seen, whether in person or story. While you've grown up being courted by the most beautiful princes and princesses of other lands, and met the dukes and duchesses of the most refined Olarian houses, they all seem at best plain when paired against Queen Widow Lydia. It's not just her appearance which threatens the limits of your understanding of sexuality. From the stories your father would tell you (which of course had no negative side effects on your psyche to hear them) she was a veritable genius in pleasing her partner. Though he'd had only three wives, he'd had hundreds of concubines (Gods bless birth control, lest you'd have to compete with some bastard) yet Lydia was the first to leave him fully, truly satisfied and worn out. Her stamina and prowess were almost sung by him.

And she knew all of this. (Well, maybe not that he told you)

Lydia had always been one to tease you. She was fully aware of your...overdemanding package, and would frequently find ways to short circuit your brain. Despite meeting her when you were 17, she insisted on bathing with you "as your father did." Fully platonically of course...until you turned 18. Then her touches seemed more flirtatious, though always leaving you unsatisfied. She would try on the most beautiful dresses the kingdom could find for you, before going off to your father to..."affirm their love." She would join you for swimming lessons, and upon seeing her in her swimsuit you literally almost drowned as your beast awoke. Though it may have been paranoia, she always seemed to be eating the most phallic of foods. Cucumbers, bananas, Sausages. You swear you once saw her deepthroat a French baguette while holding eye contact with you the whole time...Though that may have been a dream.

All of this said, you've never trusted her, or appreciated her advances. Part of you even thinks she may have had some part in your father's ****. After all, he was barely 40 years old, and was in perfect health. You've kept your guard up around her for the last three years, despite her attempts to make you hard up around her for the last three years. Since his **** and your coronation, she's been acting odd. Some may call it grieving, but you've doubts. She has stopped wearing her clothes properly, letting them dangle off her shoulders. She forgets layers, so her underblouse no longer covers her valley of cleavage. She leaves her underwear around the manor, (always in places you find it) and she's even taken to wandering the halls moaning. She is not wailing in grief, she's definitely moaning like a harlot, to entice you.

And it's working. Despite your best efforts, your brain is competing with a much larger organ, and your heart (that is, the organ, not your emotions) betrays you. It all comes to a head, as she walks into your room "by mistake" and crawls into your bed "by mistake" and starts to feel you under the covers "by mistake" and whispers *YOUR* name under her breath instead of your father's "by mistake." What do you do about this?