Sins of the Father- (VD,D/E/S,ADULT) Complete 6-8-10 Adult

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destinyc
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Sins of the Father- (VD,D/E/S,ADULT) Complete 6-8-10 Adult

Postby destinyc » Tue Jun 08, 2010 11:54 pm

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Sins of the Father
Damon/Elena/Stefan
Goes A/U after “A Few Good Men” Some storylines and mythologies have been altered to suit my storytelling purposes.
Major Warnings! Please heed them if easily squicked!-Incest, daddy!kink, threesome action (no heavy slash though) non-con via manipulation, some crude sexual language
Hey, I’m figuring if the writers put the question in my meddlesome brain, I would be remiss not to run with it. BTW-ignore the annoying uncle that showed up late in the season. Isobel's age at the time of Elena's birth has been changed to match this timeline.
Summary-After piecing together the clues surrounding Elena’s parentage, Damon seeks to claim what is his. Please note warnings!
Rating-mature!
Feedback-questions and comments welcomed, but no flames…this is not my day job, this is for fun. If you aren’t comfortable…then please don’t read.
Disclaimer-I own nothing! The Vampire Diaries is the property of LJ Smith, the CW network, Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, and other producers.

Ch 1
Elena tentatively opened the front door of the Salvatore mansion, her heels clicking softly against the stones. She had noticed that Stefan’s car was still absent from the driveway, but thought that she would wait in his room, expecting him to return at any time.

The red silk skirt of her halter dress swished around her thighs as she climbed the staircase, hoping to avoid Damon’s bitter gaze and acid tongue until Stefan returned. Tiptoeing silently down the hall, her nervous steps finally reached the familiar door. Smiling to herself, Elena stepped into Stefan’s room, leaving the door slightly ajar so the rasp of it shutting wouldn’t resound throughout the cavernous home.

Settling herself onto Stefan’s bed, but careful not to muss her hair or wrinkle her dress, Elena waited for her boyfriend’s arrival. Satisfied that she had successfully circumvented the scorned Damon, who since learning of Katherine’s betrayal had been feeding on a steady diet of easy co-eds and Jack Daniels, Elena relaxed against the soft cotton sheets that, when warmed by her body, released the soft scent of both Stefan and herself.

For a moment, Elena felt slightly guilty in her anticipation and excitement—Damon was somewhere, alone in the stone mansion, drowning his sorrows over the woman he loved for decades on end, the woman he had given his very life for, but who had rejected Damon so cruelly, allowing him to believe that she remained buried under the church when in fact she was in a distant city, probably bedding some other poor idiot with a handsome face and beating pulse.

Finding the will to extol her pity on Damon escaped Elena, however—not that he would accept such sentimentality if offered. His cruelty toward Alaric and his culpability in her mother’s turning, left Elena with little sympathy for the blue-eyed demon. Elena nervously shifted her feet, uncrossing her ankles as she lay propped against Stefan’s pillows. Thoughts of her mother, Isobel, and Damon couldn’t be shaken from her consciousness, particularly on a day like today….
***
The vibration of her cell against Stefan’s bedside table broke Elena out of her reverie and speculation. She flinched, fearing that the conversation would alert Damon to her presence, but answered anyway, for fear of worrying Stefan.

“Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” Stefan called out excitedly at Elena’s whispered ‘hello.’

“You already told me ‘happy birthday’ this morning,” Elena teased, giggling softly.

“Well, you deserved to hear it over and over again,” Stefan smiled into the phone, pleased with the purchase he had made in Charlottesville, examining the lapis ring that rested on the tip of his small finger. Studying the golden script of the ‘E’ that rested atop the brilliant blue stone, the ancient motto beneath, and intricate scrollwork of the band, Stefan hoped that his girlfriend would be both pleased and protected by the gift.

“When will you be home?” Elena asked, breaking Stefan out of his contemplation.

“I’m about forty minutes outside Mystic Falls,” Stefan replied, still buoyed by the pleasure of his acquisition. He briefly fantasized about the planned dinner and dancing, hoping to end the evening sharing his bed with Elena and waking the next morning wrapped in her arms. After all the difficult revelations of the past several days, Stefan hoped he could provide Elena with a happy memory to bolster her against any more unearthed secrets that lie in wait.

Too late, Stefan became aware of what he heard on the other end of the line apart from Elena’s few questions and gentle teasing. The implication of Elena’s hushed voice and the hollow reverberation of the room where she spoke were suddenly clear to Stefan.

“Elena, are you at my house?” Stefan inquired, trying to squash the sense of panic rising in his voice.

“In your bedroom…,” Elena responded coyly. When Stefan failed to respond to her flirtation, Elena grew nervous, “Should…I…go back home and wait for you there instead?” her eyes flitted to the door in worry.

“No, sweetheart,” Elena thought she heard a hitch in Stefan’s voice. Stefan briefly closed his eyes in painful resignation, knowing that if his brother could hear their conversation, her sighing breaths, her rapid pulse, Elena could not make it to the front door before the malevolent vampire would. “Just remember, I love you, Elena. I’ll be there as soon as I can….”

Stefan shut his phone as Elena’s tender, “I love you, too,” was whispered in reply. He shifted the car with purpose, accelerating with a heavy step as he sped toward home and an awaiting Elena.
***
Blue eyes flew open, parting the haze of dark lashes and an excess of alcohol. Damon’s head snapped up from where it rested against the back of the deep leather chair. With a predatory breath, he scented his surroundings, smiling at the earthy perfume that hung heavy in the room above where Elena had stayed the night before, the sounds of the bewitching beauty making love to his brother was like a hellish Greek curse—repeated time and again until Damon hurled insults at the pair to quiet them.

The passage of fourteen decades did nothing to fade the familiar combination—Katherine, Stefan, and Damon’s own rising scents eddied around him, and the vampire found himself growing impossibly hard.

Though he was instantly certain upon his arrival in Mystic Falls, of a direct connection between the likeness of the beautiful vampire who had been his and Stefan’s lover before their turning, and that of his brother’s doe-eyed, orphaned girlfriend, the proof of their bond had eluded Damon until this moment. With eavesdropped knowledge overheard in Elena and Stefan’s phone call pulling together disconnected facts, the identical countenance and recognizable scent of Katherine and Elena now melded into a common memory. Damon wickedly wondered what other attributes the two sirens might share as well.

Never before had those similarities appeared so closely drawn as when he overheard his brother wish his girlfriend a happy birthday. The knowledge of Elena’s birth mother gained after the auction and the simple calculation of her conception sparked a devilish gleam in his piercing eyes. Stilling himself to listen, Damon could hear Elena’s heartbeat thudding in apprehension at his brother’s barely-veiled warning for her premature arrival.

He thought back to that pretty brunette student from Duke, so convincing as she coaxed Damon into sinking his cock and sinking his teeth deeply into her body. The only thing she asked of Damon was a little of himself in return, a taste of his blood, his darkness, his immortality. The fire of her blood warmed his seed as he drank deeply from her neck, filling her still-pulsing passage. In exchange, with a shining blade, Damon opened his throat, drawing Isobel’s eager mouth to his borrowed blood while they remained coiled around each other, staining her unwitting husband’s bed.

Damon snickered at the memory of that self-righteous son of a bitch, Saltzman, who tried to stake him just a few nights ago, fruitlessly attempting to defend the wife he lost over eighteen years before. Had the poor bastard wasted nearly two decades, trying to avenge the woman who had left him so willingly, begging for Damon to share his curse with her? Had he not watched her obsession consume her life, until her eventual turning became all but certain?

Stealing Isobel away from Alaric’s certain retribution, Damon left Durham, and approaching an isolated, rural area, dispatched the owners of a lonely farmhouse, Isobel’s gaping wounds convincing the gullible residents to allow the seemingly-frantic couple entry. After a hearty meal, Damon laid Isobel’s body in the deep feather bed, covering her in heavy quilts until she rose with the moon the next night, ravenous for blood and flesh.

Upon piercing the trail of last night’s blade with her newly-acquired fangs, Isobel fed deeply from her sire while she fucked him fiercely, riding Damon till her old life was a but a dim memory. Their bodies joined in a myriad of ways that night, every passage stretched and filled, backs raked with trails of red, and blood suckled from sweet, tender flesh. Before the next sunset, Damon crudely inscribed the lapis Isobel had bought in hopeful preparation, gouging the stone with the capital “I” and Latin script that would help guard the fledgling as the two parted ways.

Damon smiled cruelly, thinking of that late summer night not quite nineteen years ago. He laughed at an empty room when he thought of Katherine and the crumb she had left him, even though she had so heartlessly abandoned the vampire to his grief. She may have deserted her lovers, forsaken her fellow-vampires trapped underground beneath the church, and left the Salvatore brothers to their turning soon after her departure, but through whatever mysterious means, as she left Mystic Falls, she carried with her…a child.

Did she choose to carry Damon’s seed in her belly instead of his brother’s? Did she believe Stefan too soft-hearted to serve as patriarch to her line? Or was it, for Damon, merely fortune and fate that would return their lineage to his hands in the years to follow? Damon chuckled at thought—hands? More like cock and fangs, thank you very much.

Damon had no way of knowing if all Katherine’s descendants became vampires, but he knew, unequivocally, that Isobel was drawn to him through Katherine’s influence, and through, Isobel, Damon would father Elena—far more than a crumb, but a most precious gift, indeed.

He had no explanation for their defiance of physical laws, neither biology nor myth providing an adequate answer for Elena’s existence. But unlike his brooding, cautious brother, Damon could care less about the logic of the situation, didn’t require debate and conjecture, but reveled in the knowledge puzzled out from whispers, pleadings, and accusations, till the tightening in his belly and straining in his groin verified the certainty in his still heart.

For all he knew, Damon may have sired each generation of Katherine’s line, for even though he wept over her presumed-loss, he was no saint, emptying his seed into the wombs of the willing and not-so-willing, turning those whom he believed were worthy and leaving the others in a cold and silent heap. Damon wondered how many of those young girls were drawn to him through Katherine’s influence. Though unsure if those generations folded into themselves time and again, creating an unbroken line, with himself as its sole sire, he was certain that Elena, the birthday girl that lay waiting in his brother’s bed, was his.
***
Stefan sped through the foothills as rapidly as the creeping traffic would allow. He made dangerous passes, cut across private drives, and dodged mailboxes on his right. After learning that Elena was home alone with Damon, he made a panicked phone call to the private investigator he had hired, who, after speaking with Isobel’s classmates that remained in Durham and her professors who still taught at the university, confirmed the date of her disappearance and memory of the “handsome young man with the most startling blue eyes” whom they had seen speaking with Isobel in the days before she went missing.

They recalled her devotion to studying vampire lore and how it had corrupted her life and eroded her marriage. They pitied Alaric as he searched in vain for his young wife. The ring she had promised would protect his body taunted his soul as he stapled hundreds of missing persons flyers to billboards and telephone poles around the campus. He swore to pursue the vampire responsible for Isobel’s death until his own dying breath.

Stefan, too, could piece together the necessary facts and dates, and although he had no rational explanation for the Elena’s phenomenal conception and birth, Stefan knew instinctively that Katherine was not finished toying with Damon and himself. As soon as his brother overheard the words “happy birthday,” all was lost—Damon would know that he was Elena’s father.

Now for most humans, the discovery of a long-lost child might be met with joy, anger, or grief, but Stefan knew that Damon’s humanity was destroyed many years ago, and the vampire had, since his turning, been driven by desire, obsession and hunger. Little hope remained of Damon conceding his appetites to his brother’s tender love for Elena and the intimacies already shared between the two.

No, Damon would exert his sire’s rights, heedless of the fact that Elena was still human. Believing that his malicious brother might suddenly turn compassionate and fatherly was a fool’s wish, and Stefan could predict with absolute certainty the manipulation and seduction his older brother would employ on the unsuspecting Elena.

Damon would see his paternity as superseding the traditional liberties of the sire toward his childe, and would likely claim dominance even if, one day, Stefan turned Elena.

If Elena ever wanted to become a vampire, either by necessity or choice, and Stefan turned her, traditionally, he would be able to assert his control, though he would never dream of forcing Elena to submit to his will unless she became consumed by bloodlust in the early days of her turning. Damon’s unprecedented fatherhood would give him power that no mere sire had ever known.

Stefan knew his brother well, could predict his behavior with uncanny accuracy, and foresaw the control Damon would demand, in their family and in their bed. Elena would be subject to his whims, as would Stefan himself, submitting himself to his brother for Elena’s sake.

Stefan expected the worst as he envisioned entering his bedroom, and knew that he could not hope to fully reclaim Elena from his older brother. Their time as a mere couple had ended with this damning knowledge. He raced home to soothe her, reassure her, and ease her passage into a world he knew all too well—one where he was forced to share the woman he loved with Damon.

In his mind’s eye, Stefan could almost see Katherine in her corset and skirts, turning away from her croquet game to give him a wicked wink, smirking at the chaos she had rained down on the unsuspecting Salvatore brothers.
Ch 2
MAJOR KINK WARNING! PLEASE TURN BACK IF THIS IS NOT YOUR THING!
Potential squick factors-incest, bloodplay, non-con (via manipulation not violence) threesome (no real slash action, though…save that for another time, maybe) :P
NO FLAMES-YOU HAVE BEEN DULY WARNED.
Notes-Isobel’s age at Elena’s birth has been altered to fit the timeline here.
Remember—as dark as things may look, we’ll have a warm, squishy Salvatore sandwich in the end!
***
“Happy birthday, baby girl.”

Elena startled at Damon’s words, heavy with knowledge and perverse intent. Elena scooted up, straightening the skirt of her dress for modesty, trying to ignore Damon’s loaded congratulations.

“Um, thanks,” Elena stammered, the lines between her brows furrowing in confusion. Remembering Stefan’s worried voice on the phone, the eighteen-year-old tried to distract the predatory vampire, stalking ever closer to the bed.

“Stefan’s on his way,” she reported with a false cheerfulness. “We’re going out—dinner and dancing,” Elena nervously made small talk as Damon’s blue eyes held her gaze. “He should be here any minute,” the unnerved brunette broke the demon’s stare, glancing nervously at the clock.

“Oh, I know exactly when Stefan will be back. I know he’s flying down the road right now, trying to back here,” Damon crooned evilly.

Elena glanced nervously at the bed that dipped under the weight of Damon’s knee. The steely, calculating eyes of the vampire held the young beauty in his sights as he crawled up the bed, closing in.

“But, frankly, it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference if he were in the room right now, would it?” Damon smirked at his rhetorical question.

“Why not?” Elena tried to remain defiant, sitting up a little straighter, even though her back met the barrier of Stefan’s headboard. She tried to quiet the pull in her body, in her blood, that was inherently responding to Damon’s close proximity. The guilt over her body’s betrayal started the flush of color, rising to her cheeks.

“Because I’m the head of the Salvatore family…I’m older…,” Damon ran a single finger up Elena’s bare arm, “I’m stronger…,” he traced the line of Elena’s breastbone as his tongue traced a path up the pounding artery at her throat, then whispering low in her ear as his fingers dipped into the neckline of red silk, teasing the dimpled flesh he found there, “I have…certain rights.…”

Shocked and trembling at the implications of Damon’s claim, Elena tried to scramble off the bed, but was stopped short by the cage of the master vampire’s arms and knees, hemming in her progress.

“But I’m not a vampire,” Elena retorted nervously, instantly regretting the untimely though unnecessary reminder.

“Of course not,” Damon chuckled low in his throat as his hands slid to Elena’s silk covered hips, “but you’re a Salvatore…no denying that…,” Damon smirked as the pieces fell together for Elena—the recent knowledge that Damon had turned her birth mother, Isobel, and the obvious truth discerned by the date of Elena’s birth made the damning knowledge clear to the beautiful eighteen-year-old. Elena’s eyes welled with tears at the prospect of Damon turning out to be her own father.

With a predatory grace and air of possession, Damon slowly kissed and nibbled on the tender flesh of Elena’s neck, laying claim to the girl he had desired since he set foot back in Mystic Falls. The fact that she belonged to his brother was just icing on a very sweet cake.

Elena’s creamy breasts rose and fell rapidly, tickling Damon’s chin as her fear began to conquer her fight, panic beginning to take hold, knowing nothing could deter Damon from something…or someone that he truly wanted. He was relentless until satisfied and often cruel in his pursuit.

“Might as well forget that whole Gilbert nonsense,” Damon mused as he traced the hollow of Elena’s throat with his tongue. The handsome demon reveled in the delicious combination of fear, humiliation and desire that was rolling off Elena in waves. “We’ll go to the courthouse Monday…change your name…make it all official,” Damon taunted, lapping at the tear that rolled to Elena’s breast. Damon dropped slow, seductive kisses to the heaving flesh, paying no heed to Elena’s tremulous pleading while he released the silk knot behind her neck and slid her body back down to the sheets below.

“Please, Damon, don’t do this,” Elena sobbed as cool lips wrapped around her dusky bud. A sharp cry echoed off the solid walls of the bedroom when Damon’s fangs gently pierced Elena’s swollen nipple, the vampire groaning at his first taste of Elena’s sweet blood.

Damon looked up from his worship of Elena’s breast, his eyes flashing wickedly as he lapped the small pearl of blood collecting at the tip.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he smirking vampire mockingly chastised, “It’s not ‘Damon’ anymore, now is it, sweetheart?” Damon blew a cool breath across the abused nipple, making it pucker in a tight, inviting peak.

“It’s time to call me…*Daddy*….”
***
Through the well-established link of shared blood and bonded love, Stefan could feel Elena’s anguished pangs of feared betrayal, could sense the shame of desire coursing through her body, though he would’ve been powerless to stop the progress of Damon’s claim even if he had been present. The family hierarchy was clear, even in a case as unprecedented as this, and Stefan knew that he could not challenge Damon’s authority over Elena without killing his brother, and the odds for Damon’s triumph were good ones.

Stefan had chosen a peaceful life…avoiding human blood, except for the small draughts given freely by Elena during their lovemaking. But these vegetarian habits were not without their price, and Damon’s physical power over his younger brother was one of them. If he fought Damon and lost, then Elena would be completely at the mercy of her sadistic father, and Stefan could no longer offer his love to soothe away his brother’s brutality.

While his body automatically negotiated the twists and turns of the road, Stefan cleared his mind, trying to banish his own panic and loathing for his brother, and instead send calming thoughts to Elena, assuring her of his continued love, even in the wake of his brother’s malice.
***
Damon ran his wicked tongue over his stained lips, swiping at the remnants of the token blood he had taken from Elena’s breast. Meeting her tearful, terrified gaze, Damon snickered in amusement, reveling in the power his little mind game had inflicted on the unsuspecting beauty.

Slithering down from her stinging breasts, Damon paused at Elena’s heated mound, still hidden under a flounce of skirts and silky lace.

“Mmm,” Damon scented the mélange of horror, repulsion and unbidden attraction soaking through the damp silk at the cleft of Elena’s thighs. Pushing up the hindering skirt to puddle around Elena’s waist, Damon locked on Elena’s watery stare, rejoicing in the pain and pleasure he was sure to inflict.

“Now,” Damon smirked deviously, “let Daddy see what gets your Uncle Stefan all hard and needy.” The vicious vampire grinned as he slowly drew Elena’s panties down her hips, incrementally revealing the bare mound beneath.

Halting the descent of the tiny covering at the middle of Elena’s thighs, Damon groaned in appreciation at the luscious sight.

“My beautiful little girl,” Damon sighed in genuine awe over the picture Elena painted, her sex glistening with nectar. Forgetful of his game, he placed tender kisses to the smooth flesh, paying homage to the body he helped to create. “Such a sweet…, *kiss* gorgeous… *kiss* warm… *kiss* little pussy for Daddy to taste.” Damon dipped his tongue at the top of her furrow, tantalizing her clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Damon, no!” Elena cried out in refusal, her loyalty to Stefan warring with the salve of acceptance she could feel through their bond.

“What do you call me?” Damon nipped at Elena’s thigh with razor sharp teeth, warning her against protest.

Sobbing to a father, inexorable and pitiless, Elena conceded,

“Daddy…,” the plea thin and ineffectual in its admission.

Gathering the crumpled silk and taut panties, Damon whisked them from the trembling beauty in a flash and tossed them to the floor.

“Now, now…,” the malevolent sire taunted, licking his lips as he neared her drenched sex, “Daddy’s gonna make it all better….”

***
Stefan punished the steering wheel with his fist, his brother having lowered every barrier, letting the younger vamp know just how delicious Elena tasted, how his ego and his cock grew with every whimper, every shameful cry of pleasure as his child fought the desire firing from her heated sex.

“Shh…it’ll be ok, sweetheart…just relax…,” Stefan sent the calming words through their connection, hoping that Elena’s trauma might be lessened somewhat by his thoughts.
***
“Come on…open up for Daddy,” Damon crooned the perverse sentiment, nudging Elena’s knees apart as she bit back the protest at her lips.

“Now…don’t be shy,” Damon teased, opening up Elena’s flushed nether lips with his thumbs.

His bared child whimpered at the ignominy of her exposure.

Damon mockingly clucked his tongue as Elena clung to her shame for protection, “Now, baby…,” the vampire crooned in playful admonishment, dipping his tongue into the honey of Elena’s sex between long languorous licks of her swollen lips, “No need to be embarrassed,” Damon snaked his tongue deeply within his daughter’s channel, savoring the sweet juices he had coaxed from her body.

“You have a beautiful cunt—just like your mother….”

Elena recoiled at the crude syllable even as she could not help but strain against her father’s mouth, seeking the friction her body now demanded.

“Daddy…please…,” but the plea now was not one of indignation but had become one of need.

Damon chuckled softly against Elena’s tender flesh, knowing that the desires of her nubile body had finally conquered the inhibitions she had held so dear.

Damon smiled wickedly from between his daughter’s legs, his tongue dipping below to toy with her tight rosebud, sending a shock of sensation and awareness through her bowed body.

Damon groaned in anticipation, delivering a long lick up the length of Elena’s parted lips, ending its journey at her cleft to stroke with long licks at the tender nub there.

“Daddy…,” Elena groaned fisting through Damon’s dark hair, demanding his attention.

Giving into his petulant child, Damon suckled at her hungry clit, sliding two fingers into her aching channel, crooking them as he found that spongy bit of flesh and drawing them back and forth across the fiery nerves, as a parent coaxing a stubborn child to return to their side.

Elena bucked uncontrollably against Damon’s mouth, all the heightened emotion of the day seeking an outlet for the bottled sensations. Her body’s need blocking out all else, save Stefan’s soothing voice in her head, Elena rode Damon’s mouth, a great keening wail coming from her own when the vampire slid a slickened finger into her snug back passage, sending the birthday girl into an explosive climax, shattering her sensibilities into a million tiny pieces.

It was long moments before Elena realized that Damon’s fingers and mouth had slowed to match the fading pulses of her tight channel, drawing out her orgasm as he brought her down from that pinnacle of sensation.

The full implications of Elena’s reaction hit her at the sight of Damon’s trademark smirk, and she turned away, her face reddening in humiliation over her acquiescence.

Although he expected it, Damon refused to allow Elena’s denial of the pleasure that he had given her.

Moving to stand beside the bed, Damon whipped off his deep charcoal shirt, heedless of the buttons flying around his brother’s room. Elena was not moved by the tinkling ping of the mother-of-pearl discs hitting the floor, but was startled enough by the sound of Damon’s buckle clanging in its descent to turn back to her father in surprise.

Kicking away the unneeded clothes, Damon pulled Elena up from her fit of pique, flush against his hard, demanding body.

In the same mocking tone he employed before, Damon insinuated what he expected his daughter to do, “Daddy took care of Elena…now it’s time for Elena to take care of her daddy.”

The diabolical vampire softened his hold at the small nod of understanding, the realization of Elena’s role within this family of three was becoming apparent to the once-orphaned brunette.

Swinging her feet around to rest on the floor, Elena spread her legs to accommodate Damon’s, the sweet scent of her satisfied sex, drawing Damon’s already hard cock up to further glory. Elena bent to her humbling task, taking Damon’s impressive length into the warm cavern of her mouth.

Though her task was abhorrent, and the crushing guilt she felt over betraying Stefan this way threatened to suffocate her, Elena worked the hard flesh skillfully, knowing that certain retribution would come if she responded with violence instead of tender affection.

“Yes, babygirl, that’s it…,” Damon moaned, his eyes closing at the pleasure he was taking from Elena’s mouth. He rocked gently between her full lips, the cool column of flesh heated by the fiery mouth of his offspring.

Elena suckled and licked, swallowing as Damon’s thrusts met the back of her throat. She palmed the heavy sac with her left hand, gently coaxing her father’s desire. The cunning brunette figured if she made but a shoddy attempt at pleasuring Damon, then she might be left to suffer repeated tutorials as a result.

“So good at sucking Daddy’s cock…,” Damon praised as he fisted his fingers through Elena’s dark locks.

Her tongue traced the prominent veins and ridges, swirled round the swollen head, and teased the sensitive slit before again plunging back to the root and repeating the shameful cycle over and again.

Damon muttered praises in the dusky room, hungrily accepting this stolen pleasure, no worries over propriety or morality ever entering his hedonistic thoughts.
***
Stefan cursed his brother as he entered Mystic Falls, every delight afforded Damon at Elena’s lips, he communicated openly to mock his younger brother, who was racing home. The green-eyed vampire thrust his hand hard against his swollen cock, helpless as he was to dismiss the erotic sensations with which his brother was taunting him through their fraternal link.

Stefan groaned aloud in his car, desperate to release his cock from its restraining confines and take himself in hand to relieve the intense need thrust upon him by his connection to Damon. Stefan was torn between this borrowed lust and righteous anger, the picture of Elena’s mouth on Damon’s cock was as clear as if he were already home.
***
“A little harder…,” Damon encouraged, panting in unnecessary breaths, “Oh, yeah…that’s it…,” he groaned as Elena suckled more forcefully, tightening the pressure on his sac ever so slightly until she felt the tell-tale pulsing begin.

“Oh...yes!” the master vampire crowed in ecstasy, “Drink me down, baby…that’s it…,” Damon rocked relentlessly into Elena’s mouth, not offering any other option but for her to swallow her father’s cool seed.
***
“Fuck!” Stefan gritted his teeth as he came in his trousers, his brother forcing the humiliation through the familial bond blown wide at Damon’s insistence.

Stefan slammed his car into park, securing Elena’s gift on his little finger as he ripped the keys from the ignition.

Crashing through the front door, Stefan called out angrily, “Damon!”

“We’re in your room, Uncle Stefan…,” came the snarky reply from his brother. “Why don’t you join us?” Damon continued to taunt as he settled back against Stefan’s pillows, Elena having once again turned away from him in shame.

Hurrying down the hall, unbuttoning his shirt as he strode, Stefan stripped the cuffs from his wrists, bursting into the room, immediately rushing to Elena’s side.

Elena’s face crumpled on seeing Stefan’s worried expression, his arms embracing her tightly as he went to the far side of the bed, kicking off his shoes to join her.

“Stefan, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, collapsing against Stefan’s bare chest in deep, shuddering spasms of grief.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Stefan soothed, “Nothing to be sorry for,” he stroked the length of her hair in assurance that she had committed no wrongdoing—once Damon discovered his connection to Elena, there was no way to dissuade his advances.

“Dammit. Damon, you couldn’t have waited one more day?” Stefan spat out angrily at his brother’s prone form that occupied the opposite side of the bed. “It’s her birthday—we’d made plans--,” Stefan railed against his brother’s interference.

“No better time, it seems to me…,” Damon drawled coolly, turning onto his side, absently running a cool hand in circles on Elena’s bottom. “And, hell, we’ll just pull up a chair—make it a table for three,” Damon remarked flippantly, smirking at how Elena flinched at the fingertip he drew up the cleft of her cheeks.

“You could’ve at least waited until I got home…instead of making her all upset,” Stefan chastised his tactless brother who merely rolled his eyes at the complaint.

“We were just having a little fun, weren’t we, babygirl?” Damon curled up behind Elena placing a kiss on her shoulder as he stared daggers at his brother. “You’ve had her all to yourself for months, Uncle Stefan,” Damon mocked, “I was just making up for a little lost time….”

Stefan shook his head in disgust at Damon’s cruelty before returning his attention to Elena, drying her tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“Baby,…do you understand?” Stefan soulful green eyes searched Elena’s dark ones. Her head and eyes dipped resignedly, understanding that it was time again for the brunette beauty to join with the warring brothers, tying them together even as their opposing natures threatened to tear them apart. Just as Katherine had been the focus of their shared affection, now Elena would take her place, just as she was destined.

“Take it easy on her…she’s not used to this,” Stefan sighed, hoping that his brother wasn’t entirely heartless and cruel.

“Don’t worry…she’ll still be up for cake and balloons when we’re done here…,” Damon groaned, reaching inside a nearby drawer for the small bottle stowed away inside.

“Babygirl, why don’t you get Uncle Stefan out of those sticky trousers of his,” Damon snarked with an amused chuckle, rubbing the clear lube thoroughly over his hands and cock as he spoke.

Elena raised up on her knees, looking squarely at Stefan. At his nod and soft smile, she peeled away the sticky boxers and trousers, stripping her lover of his remaining clothes before resuming her position between the two brothers.

“I love you,” Stefan smiled sweetly, sliding beneath Elena, her knees on each side of his hips.

“Love you,” Elena replied softly, her breath catching as Stefan’s familiar fingers dipped between her legs, readying her channel while his thumb circled her clit. Elena began to rock against Stefan’s gentle ministrations, her breath growing raspy at his touch.

Elena’s heavy eyes flew open once again with Damon’s touch at her back passage. She started to tense as his finger slipped inside the taut ring, the panic in her eyes evident.

“Just relax, baby. Push against him…then relax,” Stefan coaxed, his hands continuing to build Elena’s arousal.

“Mmm,” Damon growled delightedly, nipping at Elena’s neck while he slipped a second finger inside to stretch her passage further, “Seeing as how Uncle Stefan got the first cherry,” he teased, “I thought I at least deserved the second,” he chuckled.

Recovering her humor thanks to Stefan’s loving words and unfailing support, Elena rolled her eyes at Damon’s typically crude remark. Knowing the inevitability of what was to come, Elena decided that beating Damon at his own game was a necessity as they adjusted to their new relationship.

“Maybe Uncle Stefan got my cherry cause he’s sweeter than you are, Daddy,” Elena cooed snarkily, eliciting smiles from both men as she quirked her eyebrow and looked behind her.

Damon’s scissoring fingers slipped out of Elena’s passage only to be replaced by something much bigger and thicker that readied for entry.

“That’s because I’m the evil one, babygirl,” Damon snickered in Elena’s ear as his cock pushed into her prepared channel.

Elena gasped for all of her brave words, opening her eyes to hold Stefan’s green gaze, pausing momentarily until she indicated her readiness.

Damon continued to push until he was firmly seated in her tight passage, offering only the retrained gentle thrusting he had promised until she was ready for more.

When her body relaxed and finally able to respond to Damon’s thrusts in kind, Elena spoke softly in encouragement to the man beneath her.

“Stefan?” she coaxed, nodding as she smiled softly.

Taking his hard cock in hand, Stefan lined himself up between her slick nether lips, thrusting inside Elena’s snug, welcoming walls at her word.

Groans rang out from all three--Elena impossibly filled, every nerve ringing with overloaded sensations, each man feeling his brother’s hard cock just beyond the thin wall, surrounded by Elena’s searing heat. After a moment to adjust and regain control, Damon and Stefan fell back into the rhythm they had perfected so many years ago, alternating their strokes so their lover was always filled, working against the dual sensations in her sex and her bowels.

Stefan raised up to capture a tender nipple while his brother toyed with the other from behind, Stefan continuing to stroke at Elena’s swollen nubbin. She ducked down to steal a kiss from her first lover, both heedless to the lingering taste of Damon’s spendings on her tongue. Breaking the kiss, Stefan smiled and nodded, watching as Elena turned her head to grant his brother a similar kiss, gratitude for the new myriad of sensations now coursing through her body and acceptance of their new allegiances.

Damon’s normally steely eyes softened, as the weight of Elena’s kiss and the forgiveness it offered pierced the otherwise callous vamp, who was moved at his daughter’s generous spirit and resilience of soul.

“I love you,” Damon whispered, offering tender kisses against the length of her silky locks, panged at the torture she’d endured from him a short time ago.

“Love you, too,” Elena smiled knowingly, reaching behind for another deep kiss from Damon, their bodies never halting in the constant rise and fall of their lovemaking.

Despite his initial fears, Stefan smiled at the picture before him—Elena lost in wanton pleasure with Damon’s arms wrapped around her from behind, the three slipping effortlessly back into their former lives, a dark beauty writhing sinuously between the two Salvatore's. Somehow, there was a security in sharing Elena with his brother—the fear of losing his love to Damon withering in the wake of their three bodies moving in perfect time.

Damon watched Elena with an uncharacteristic sweetness in his expression, his longing for love and fidelity, usually masked by cruelty and contempt, was accepted by Elena and reflected in the forgiving eyes of his brother who lay below. Damon could forget the malicious memory of the inconstant Katherine, as the love she had dismissed was reclaimed by the family bound together, here, on the anniversary of his daughter’s birth.

All three clasped hands at Elena’s hip, and she smiled at the unfamiliar ring on Stefan’s pinky.

“Is that for me?” Elena teased brightly, twirling the ring on Stefan’s little finger.

All three continued their pistoning rhythm as Stefan nodded yes, slipping the new, protective lapis from his hand and sliding it down Elena’s slim finger, assuring themselves that if something happened to Elena and her turning was inevitable, she would be able to join the two most important men in her life without fear.

Though they had no immediate plans to make Elena a vampire, taking solace in her warmth and joy in the sweet elixir of her blood, the Salvatore brothers wanted Elena to remain human for as long as possible. But when the time came, Elena’s gift assured that she could safely walk in the sunshine, hand-in-hand with her father and uncle, safe from turning to dust.

“Happy birthday, Elena,” Stefan said softly as he was thanked with a kiss, rising up again to meet her.

“Happy birthday, babygirl,” Damon echoed sincerely, also meeting her lips for a tender kiss as she turned her head.

“You know what to do?” Stefan asked gently.

At Elena’s affirmative nod, Stefan looked to his brother, each spurring on the other so the three could become one again. Damon held his brother’s hips, securing their purchase so Stefan’s hand could drop back to Elena’s clit for a firm twist while his lips latched on to a pebbled nipple, pulling at the tender flesh until the warm channels that surrounded their cocks began to pulse in climax.

Each Salvatore wrapped his arms round his brother’s back, the three closing together tightly. Feeling Elena’s muscles constrict around their ready members, both brothers looked at each other in acknowledgement, and, together, sank their fangs into each side of Elena’s neck.

“Mine!” they shouted in unison, both taking small, ceremonial draughts from her creamy throat, completing their parts of the claim.

Elena screamed in ecstasy, never having experienced an orgasm of such power and fulfillment. Opening wide, she sunk her blunt teeth hard into Stefan’s neck, allowing a taste of his blood to pool on her tongue, and then turned to Damon, biting and pulling a taste of the coppery fluid he offered. The fluids mingling on her tongue, Elena swallowed the blood of her uncle and father together, responding with a definitive, “Yours!” that echoed across the solid walls.

The three rocked together for long moments more, relishing in the bond that existed so long ago that now came to live again. Bodies finally giving way to exhaustion, the two men withdrew, and they all lay down in a sweaty tangle, recovering from their exertions.

A broad smile crossed Elena’s face as she studied the beautiful ring that Stefan had placed on her finger, then winking at Stefan and smiling wickedly, the brunette beauty turned back to face Damon, who after all, had eighteen years worth of presents to make up for, now didn’t he? Chuckling at her devious thoughts, Stefan turned to cuddle up behind Elena, his hand propping his head to witness his brother’s reaction to the unexpected silver lining Elena had discovered in Damon’s paternal claim.

Elena flashed Damon a manipulative, diabolical grin that would’ve put Katherine to shame, and batting her dark lashes in blatant scheming, asked him oh-so-innocently, “So, Daddy, what did *you* get me for my birthday?”
Last edited by destinyc on Thu Jul 01, 2010 9:31 am, edited 1 time in total.
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