Tro

      Another birthday has passed for the crown princess of Goetia, Octavia. Now she is no longer a teenager, but an eighteen-year-old adult woman. This birthday was, fortunately, much better than the previous one, where her father forced her to go to Loo-Loo-Land as if she were still a five-year-old girl. Now this celebration was quiet, cozy, and family-like, however, the mother was not there, since Stolas, after a couple of incidents with one hired killer, had to divorce Stella. The prince, of course, took a risk, because he did not know how his daughter would react. But after the white-feather slut left, the palace became so quiet.       Her father’s lover, Blitz, came instead on birthday. And he arrived, as always, along with his company, which until now consisted only of a married couple of two imps, as well as one hellhound. Octavia, of course, did not greet them very cordially at first, since because of the Blitz her family fell apart, as she thought. But in the end they got along, despite all the oddities of the Blitz and the princess’s antics.       In the evening, Stolas and Octavia were left alone in the palace, except for the servants, who at such times usually hang around in their living area, or in areas of the palace that are as far as possible from the rooms of the aristocrats.       The prince, having made himself some tea, settled down on the sofa, watching some random TV series that seemed pretty good to the prince. His daughter, he thought, must now be having her ninth dream in her bed. But if only he knew what Viya was doing…       Octavia, lying on her bed and lifting up her nightie, tried to start masturbating, she was interested to know what it felt like. For a long time, the bird was interested in the question: are intimate actions with the genitals incredibly pleasant or is it all just mass hysteria about nothing. She carefully and slowly moved her soft feathered fingers along the tender, innocent folds of her vagina, trying not to touch anything with her sharp claws. The feeling was new, and also quite pleasant. Gradually going deeper and examining every millimeter of the wet pussy, she felt something especially strange — a strange thing at the top of the pussy that was especially sensitive, which was the clitoris. Octavia decided to rub faster and did not regret it. A wave of pleasure washed over her. She decided to act. Kneeling on the floor, she began to quickly move her hand over her feathered treasure, touching her clitoris, trying to come hard like the heroines of those erotic novels that she sometimes managed to read. After half a minute, Octavia began to tremble all over and moaned muffled from an excess of pleasure without reaching orgasm. Via’s mind didn’t want to deal with this anymore, but her body was simply burning in anticipation of something that could please her, because she herself was unlikely to be able to. It’s a pity that there is no one nearby who could help her with this and whom she could trust…       Stop… but what if… *** — What is happened, Octavia? — the prince asked his, as it turned out, not at all sleepy daughter, who was standing in the doorway, nervously fiddling with the edges of her black night pajamas. Her gaze now froze on her father, now on some corner of the room, now on the lower part of the older owl’s belly. — Dad, don’t worry. — She quickly approached her father, sometimes taking slightly unsure steps. — What’s happened? — the prince became seriously worried.       The owl sat on his lap without saying anything, taking a comfortable position. She looked straight into his surprised face. Stolas didn’t understand what was happening and why it was so wet and sticky between his daughter’s legs. — D-dear, what are you doing… — the younger owl shut him up with a deep and tender kiss. Closing her eyes, Octavia hugged her father’s head and pushed her tongue into his beak.       The owl man was stunned by such an action on the part of his own daughter. And he wanted to push her away and start a many-hour lecture about the correctness of chastity and the wrongness of incest… But… He answered her. Closing his eyes, he intertwined his tongue with hers, and also hugged her waist and head. He stroked Octavia’s soft feathers, their color slightly reminiscent of the color of mouse fur. When they broke the kiss, they looked at each other with glances that mixed fear and joy and pain and sincere love. Via began to lift the edges of her T-shirt, revealing a view of her excited pussy, from which the folds of her inner lips and clitoris hung slightly. Then she completely took off her clothes, thanks to which Stolas could examine her entire body, so dear to his heart, in every detail. Via was, so to speak, a mixed race — she mixed the colors of her father and mother. Her legs, upper phalanges, sternum, face and belly were white, and the rest of the carcass was gray-blue. The bird’s breasts were quite small, but no less sexy.       Wasting no time and excitement, the owl turned off the TV, untied the belt of father’s robe so that it would not interfere, and then, in an attempt to arouse her father, began to rub her crotch against his leg. The effect was not long in coming. The prince’s rather large organ appeared from under the plumage and stood up like a stake.       Octavia pressed her pussy lips against the head of her daddy’s cock. She was still deciding whether she was doing the right thing, because there would be no turning back. Viya will lose her virginity from her own father! Of course, there was no talk about the danger of accidental pregnancy, since the higher ones can easily cope with not such problems. But she was still afraid.       Closing her eyes, she was about to sit down sharply on the penis, pushing it completely inside her, not knowing that she couldn’t do this the first time, but Stolas stopped her in time. — Wait, let me do it. — he laid his daughter on her back, and he stood over her.       Via spread her legs wider and, completely relaxed, surrendered to her father, as he was more experienced and responsible. Stolas brought the organ to his daughter’s vagina and gently inserted it halfway, tearing her hymen. A groan of pleasure and slight pain escaped Octavia. The prince stroked her cheek, as if calming her down and reminding her that he’s with her. That he’s nearby.       The owl began to move in her, leaving and entering back, each time doing it deeper. At first, Octavia wanted to hold back her languid moans, but after a couple of minutes she completely lost her head and almost screamed with every new thrust. The prince, due to the length of the organ, rested against the owl’s uterus without going all the way, but this did not bother them. Octavia grabbed her father’s body, forcing him to rise with her. They sat in this position: Stolas sat on his knees on the sofa, holding Via by the hips, and she sat on his lap, hugging his back and resting her head on his shoulder. Thus, she herself could help him with her movements.       After half an hour, the prince began to feel special spasms, indicating an imminent outpouring, and quite abundantly. He began to move faster, but not reaching the uterus. Via began to hug him tighter, tightly squeezing the feathers of his back. Another couple of seconds and the inside of the bird was filled with seed, but, nevertheless, it did not enter the uterus, which means there is no need to worry. They both shared the sofa and collapsed exhausted. Octavia, having caught her breath a little, rose up, taking a semi-sitting position, and looked at the sperm slowly flowing out of her slit, and also, with love, at the one who left it there. She lay down on her father and put her head on his collarbone, thus cuddling with him. Viya in his arms felt completely protected from all threats from the outside. I felt not just property, but a part of my father. Property in a good way. — Thank you dad. — she said smiling. — My pleasure. — the prince buried his face in her hair-feathers — However, I propose to forget this weakness and never do that again. Agree? — Agree. — the princess completely agreed with all his words. But, of course, only in the next couple of days, since such incidents could not but continue in the form of a pleasant repetition… *** — Hello, are you Octavia Goetia? — a strange young sinner, in a knee-length leather double-breasted jacket and a black cap with a badge similar to the NKVD emblem, only it said “RKNM”, asked the princess that walking through the city park. On his shoulder was a pattern of a crossed hammer and sickle, almost erased by time, but still visible. — Um… Yes? — the girl answered incredulously — why do you need it?       Instead of answering, the stranger quickly took out a tranquilizer and shot the owl right in the neck, after which the poor bird, having no time to do anything, began to rapidly lose consciousness due to the effects of the strong sleeping pill.       After the aristocrat fell to the ground exhausted, the sinner took out a marker and drew a couple of strange symbols blocking any magic on her back, then took out a rope and a large potato sack…