Chapter 32 - Snow White's Son

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As his father held him close, Crow's eyes fell upon the glass coffin beside the bed. Inside, a woman lay, dressed in a gown of deep crimson. Her hands, folded beneath her chest, and her exposed neck and face had decayed beyond recognition. What was once pure white, the skin of Snow White herself, was now blackened and shriveled, like a withered apple left to rot. Her bones pressed against her darkened flesh, a hollow shadow of her former beauty.

 

"Ugh... ah... mm...!"

 

Crow barely had a moment to scream in horror at the sight of his mother before his lips were seized. A rough, scratchy beard scraped against his face, and a thick, heavy tongue invaded his mouth, violating every inch.

 

"Mmph... ugh...!"

 

His father's hands gripped him tightly, forcing him into the kiss, devouring his lips with an obscene hunger. Crow's eyes widened in fear and confusion, his small tongue helplessly pulled into the man's mouth and sucked upon until it hurt.

 

It took him a long moment to realize—he was drunk. The overpowering scent of wine, brewed with apples, had clouded his mind, making it impossible to think clearly. The scent filled the room, robbing him of his senses.

 

In the depths of his despair, Crow, who found himself ensnared by the enchantments of wine, became painfully aware of his own insignificance in the heart of his father, the king. The warmth of affection and the embrace he longed for were reserved for his mother, while the kisses bestowed upon him were tainted with a lasciviousness that filled him with dread.

 

"—No, I don't want this kiss!" With both hands pressed against his father's chest, Crow arched away with all his might.

 

Yet his body was already lifted from the ground, and no amount of flailing limbs could alter his fate. Though their lips parted for a fleeting moment, they were quickly captured once more.

 

"Mm, kku...!"

 

When his father's coarse beard brushed against his face, Crow felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Strangely, the thought of the beast's fur did not disgust him, but the touch of his father's hair filled him with revulsion.

 

Alas, there was no escape, and Crow was carried away to the lavish bed draped in velvet, whereupon lying down, he caught a glimpse of the contents of the coffin that rested beside him.

 

The sight filled him with dread, a sensation that only worsened as he was denied the release of his lips.

 

His garments were slowly stripped away, revealing a flat chest with naught but small, innocent nipples. Even as he touched his body, which was not a woman's, his father pressed his hands upon Crow's breast without hesitation.

 

Without so much as a pause, as soon as his lips were freed, his father's mouth descended upon his chest, sucking greedily.

 

"Ah, no... please, stop...!"

 

Even as the scent of wine intoxicated his senses, Crow cried out, "Father!"

 

But the situation remained unchanged as his shirt was completely removed, his skin laid bare.

 

Powerless to flee, his elbows buckled upon the mattress, crumbling beneath him.

 

"Snow White... I love you... I love you dearly...!"

 

"N-no... ah...!"

 

A warm tongue flicked across his nipple, only to be crushed with surprising force. A vile sensation coursed from the now indented protrusion of his chest down between his legs, as he felt a response stirring in his body, leaving him ashamed that he could react to the caress of a man he did not desire.

 

"Ah... no... Father... I..."

 

"Snow White… how youthful you are, with such lovely little breasts. How fortunate I am to see you grow once more…"

 

The nipple that had been toyed with by his wicked tongue instantly hardened at his words, while the other soft pink bud was cruelly pinched between fingers.

 

"Ah, ah... a...!"

 

As Crow trembled and turned his gaze, he sought solace in the visage of his mother, illuminated faintly through the double glass of her coffin. His left hand reached out, and his eyes were drawn to the delicate elven bracelet that adorned his wrist, glistening softly in the light. The seven stones within it glimmered with a gentle luminescence, casting a shimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

 

Yet, to love a lifeless body was a madness beyond comprehension...

 

Stripped of his garments and laid bare, Crow found himself pinned beneath his father's weight, his tears flowing freely as he endured the torment of his father's caress.

 

He recalled the reason for his presence in this wretched place, yet he knew that restoring his mother's decaying body to its former beauty would solve nothing. Even if he could halt the imposition of the new wine tax, it would not mend the heart of his father, who had fallen into a deep abyss of despair.

 

"Snow White… it appears you have a swelling in this delicate spot. Is it an illness, perchance? Or have you been cursed by some envious wretch, transformed into a boy for their wicked delight?"

 

Lying on his back with his legs splayed wide, Crow was swept away in a tempest of dizzying inebriation and a disquieting discomfort that raised goosebumps upon his skin. Deep within the recesses of his mind, he grasped the dreadful truth of what his father uttered and enacted upon him, yet his body remained paralyzed, unable to flee.

 

"Fear not, dear one… all is well. My love remains untainted by such trivial matters. After all, you have always enjoyed such pleasures…"

 

"—Father, please… stop… no…!"

 

Yet, as he was held in that wicked grip, Crow's legs were thrust wider, forcing him into submission.

 

With his knees drawn close to his face, the weight of his father's body pressed down upon him. From this helpless position, he glimpsed his father's face looming above him, between the soft hills of his pale backside.

 

With a gasp, Crow recoiled at the unwelcome sensations that enveloped him as his father's bristly mustache brushed against his buttocks, and a wet tongue flicked teasingly at his quivering flesh.

 

"N-no… ah!"

 

"—Mmm… uhhh…"

 

Though his father did not touch his male appendage, he sought out the more intimate folds of Crow's narrow hole. With a vile eagerness, his father's tongue slithered into the very depths of him, exploring with a loathsome curiosity.

 

"—Ah… aah!"

 

Before long, fingers followed, and in that fog of despair, Crow's thoughts turned to Kyle, wishing desperately that the man between his thighs were his brother.

 

It felt as though his mind might shatter if he did not convince himself it was Kyle. Rather than resist, he wanted to switch the faces in his head, to escape the torment of his heart.

 

—Brother… please help me… I don't want anyone but you to touch me like this…

 

Crow bit down on his own wrist, struggling to hold on to his awareness, fighting against the wave of intoxication while feeling the presence of the elves, who surely were watching over him still.

 

If only he could mix his father and brother together in his mind, to make it easier to bear. But that was a forbidden escape—one he could never allow himself.

 

He could not sully his noble brother by confusing him with their crazed father.

 

"Hh—ah...!"

 

Two fingers joined the tongue, invading him, prying his most vulnerable place wide, not to coax pleasure, but merely to prepare him for what was to come.

 

The king thrust his tongue in and out, smearing saliva as he stretched the entrance further.

 

"No… please stop… stop, Father! I am your son, not Snow White! I am Crow, the son you named yourself!"

 

Crow's legs kicked in desperate resistance as he cried out to his father, who was now devouring his flesh as though it were something sacred.

 

In that instant, when their eyes met, Crow saw something shift in his father's gaze.

 

For a fleeting moment, he dared to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, his words had reached him, that his father had recognized the truth.

 

But then the king's lips curled into a twisted smile, and tears welled in his maddened eyes.

 

"I see now… so that's how it is…"

 

The king, still poised between Crow's legs, laughed, his eyes glistening.

 

Though a change had occurred, the situation had not improved. Crow braced himself, holding his breath, waiting in dread for the king's next words.

 

"How fortunate I kept you alive. I shall gather every witch and elf across the continent and use your body to summon the queen's soul once more. Reviving her rotten corpse would be difficult, but this—this will be much easier."

 

"Father…!"

 

"I will marry her again! Yes, we will have a grand wedding! Do not worry—once you wear her dress, no one will know you are a man. And my love—oh, my love will remain unchanged by something as trivial as gender. Your face, her soul... together, I shall find my happiness once more!"

 

Laughing maniacally, the king undid the sash of his robe, baring his body.

 

His monstrous manhood stood tall, veins bulging beneath his skin, a terrifying vision of lust and cruelty.

 

"No… no!"

 

Crow's voice broke into a hoarse cry as his father's twisted desire loomed between his trembling legs.

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