Chapter Text
Leonard "Leo" Felineus, a young and adventurous eight-year-old catboy, cautiously approached the grand castle study on a night when the heavens had unleashed their fury in a turbulent rage. The castle walls groaned, and the windows rattled ominously as the winds outside danced a furious ballet. His heart pounded in his chest, not just from the fear of the storm but also from his rare decision to seek out his father, King Anders Felineus. The castle was eerily quiet, with most inhabitants seeking shelter from the storm's wrath. His tail, usually a proud and lively extension of his spirit, was tucked tightly between his legs as he approached the imposing mahogany door. The air was thick with the scent of aged parchment and the faint hint of a pipe's lingering smoke. Leo paused, his tiny hand hovering over the brass doorknob. He took a deep, trembling breath and turned it slowly. The heavy door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit sanctum of his father's study. The room was a maze of towering bookshelves, with scrolls and maps scattered across the grand oak desk that dominated the space. His father, a stoic and stern man with piercing blue eyes and thick muscles, sat behind it, engrossed in a hefty tome. He looked up, his expression unreadable. The candlelight danced across his regal features, casting shadows that deepened the lines of his furrowed brow.
"F-father?" Leo's voice wavered as he stepped into the room; his golden-furred tail swished anxiously behind him, and his ears were flat to his head. He tugged at the hem of his silk shirt nervously, his amber eyes darting around the room, taking in every detail as if it were his first time seeing it. "I-I can't sleep." Anders quirks an eyebrow and leans back into his chair.
"It's been a long time since you've sought comfort in me, boy." The man teases, his lips lifting into a smirk. "Come here." He opens his arms, offering his lap to the boy. It had been months since Leo had come to his father for anything. Their relationship had become…strained, but Anders loved his boy, probably too much. Leo approaches with hesitant steps, his tail flicking anxiously. He clambers onto his father's lap, feeling the warmth of the man's embrace seep into him. His ears perk up at the sound of pages turning as his father shuts the book with a gentle thud.
"Can you tell me a story?" Leo asks, his eyes wide with hope. The storm outside seems a distant memory as he nuzzles into the familiar scent of his father. He inhales deeply, savoring the almost-forgotten comfort. "One that doesn't have to do with battles or politics?" The man smiles softly at his son, his hand resting on the boy's back. His thumb begins to draw gentle circles through his tunic.
"I don't know if I know any, little kitten. You know I've never been much of a storyteller." His other hand gently pets the boy's head, stroking through the soft, golden abyss. He has missed this so much, running his hand through his boy’s hair and holding him close to his body. His tiny, child body fits perfectly against Anders' heavily muscled form.
"But Father, you're a king! You must have seen so much! Can't you tell me about your adventures before you were... well, a king?" Leo's voice is filled with excitement, his eyes shining with hope. He snuggles deeper into his father's embrace, feeling the comforting weight of the man's arms around him. "Please?" The word is drawn out into a whine. Anders laughs softly, amused at the boy's persistence. He plays with one of Leo's ears, stroking the soft fur. The father can feel... Something is growing in him, but like many times before, he chooses to ignore it.
"Well, there was the one time I thought I saw a dragon, but that can't be an interesting story for a little boy like you!" The father teases his son, trying to get more whines from the boy.
"Dragon!?" Leo's eyes light up, and his body becomes taut with anticipation. He sits up straight, pushing aside his father's embrace in excitement, his tail swishing rapidly behind him. "You saw a dragon? Tell me more!" His voice is a whine of awe. "Was it fierce? Did it breathe fire?" Leo's imagination runs wild as he leans closer, eager to hear the details of this fantastical encounter. "And where did you see it?” Anders laughs louder, a broad smile on his face.
"Shh, calm down. I'll tell you all about it. Lay your head back on my chest." He guides the boy back against his body, his arms wrapping tightly around him once more. Leo relents, nestling his head back onto his father's chest, the steady beat of the man's heart acting as a comforting lullaby.
"Okay, Father." His voice is a quiet murmur filled with anticipation. "What did the dragon look like?"
"Well, I didn't get to see the beast up close. I was traveling through the Northern woods, leading an expedition to explore unknown lands." He resumes his previous petting of the boy's ears. "It was dusk, the sun almost all the way gone, and then I heard it.”
"Heard what, Father?" Leo's big amber eyes are looking at his father, enraptured, his tail swishing faster as he eagerly awaits the continuation of the story,
"I heard what sounded like the flapping of giant wings, a loud sound I'd never heard before. Even the largest of birds couldn't sound like that!" The father is more insistent in petting his son, hoping to get some purrs out of him. His fingers massage the base of the boy’s ear, a spot he knows is sensitive. Leo's eyes are as wide as saucers, his imagination conjuring images of a magnificent and terrifying creature.
"What happened then?" His voice is hushed, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile memory his father held.
"Well, I called everyone to a halt and asked for silence. As we all sat there, the noise grew louder and louder! I looked into the sky, searching for the cause." The father aims at a particularly sensitive spot behind the boy's ear. The boy gives a small twitch at the sensation, and a soft purr escapes Leo's throat at the soothing touch, his eyes closing briefly in pleasure.
"And you found it, right? Tell me, Father, what did you do when you saw it?" Leo's whole body thrummed with excitement. The father's smile grew larger at the purrs, his favorite sound and feeling. He loved the way the boy's sound vibrated through him—almost a bit too much.
"After a few minutes of waiting, the largest beast I have ever seen flew far above our heads! It was too far up in the sky to make out much, but it had to be massive! Definitely bigger than a house!"
"Wow, Father!" Leo gasps, his eyes looking up at his father in amazement. What was the dragon doing? Was it hunting for treasure?" he asks with childish innocence, his mind racing with possibilities. And did it see you? Did it breathe fire?" Anders chuckles softly. He places a soft kiss on the boy's forehead, probably lingering a bit longer than necessary.
"I don't think it saw us, kitten. To that dragon, we were less than ants. And who knows what it was doing? It is a dragon, after all. I know, it's not that exciting of a story.”
"No, Father, it's incredible!" Leo insists, his purring growing louder. He wraps his arms around his father's neck, holding him tightly, looking straight into the man’s eyes. "I want to go on an adventure like that, to see a dragon and explore new lands!" He says with a fiery passion in his eyes. The father sighs. He's told Leo countless times about his duties as a prince, even if he's a bastard son. But, tonight, he refrains. He's enjoying the boy's embrace too much to ruin it.
"I think it's time for bed, little kitten." He grabs the boy tightly to his chest and stands. His hands fall to the boy's bottom for support, but he can't help but give the boy's ass a small grope. The man’s hands can cup the entirety of his son’s bottom, his large hands a stark contrast to the tiny body underneath. Leo giggles a bit at the grope, unaware of any inappropriate intent. He's too lost in the warmth and affection to think much of it.
"But, Father, the story isn't over!" He protests, not quite ready to let go of the adventure. "What happened after the dragon flew away?" Anders begins to leave the study, heading towards his son's bedroom.
"Nothing much, love. We were all in shock, but the expedition continued. The same expedition I found your mother's people."
"Mother's people?" Leo's curiosity is piqued. He's heard little about his mother from his father, who often changes the subject when she's brought up. "What were they like?" He asks as he's carried through the corridors, his eyes taking in the flickering shadows of the candle sconces. The castle feels alive and mysterious in the dark of night, especially with the storm raging outside. Anders rarely likes to talk about the catfolk in general, but he will indulge his little kitten just this night. He continues his journey to the bedroom, which is only a few minutes away.
"They are a tribal people, very traditional in their ways. They looked much like you, but fur covered more areas of their body than just the ears and tail. I bet you could find some drawings somewhere. They also wore very little clothing; it barely covered them! It was quite a site to come across." The father chuckles.
"Really? That's amazing!" Leo's imagination paints a picture of a village full of catlike people, much like him. His heart swells with excitement at the thought of one day meeting them. "Could I go there someday, Father? To meet them, I mean?" He asks hopefully as they reach his chamber, the large four-poster bed looming in the dim light. "Please?" He looks up with those amber eyes, filled with a longing that tugs at his father's heartstrings. Anders quickly looks away from his son. He shakes his head slightly.
"Maybe one day, but not soon." He places his son on the bed, his hand coming to cup the boy's cheek. "It is a long journey from here, little one. Now, let's get you undressed." Leo's eyes widened slightly, surprised at the sudden change of subject, but he didn't argue. He stands up and begins to fumble with the ties of his shirt, his hands slightly shaking. The room's warmth does little to ease the cold settling into his stomach.
"Okay, Father." He whispers, trying to hide his disappointment. "Could you tell me more about her?" Leo's voice cracks a little as he sits on the edge of the bed, slipping off his scuffed shoes. "Mother, I mean. What was she like?"
"Not tonight, son." The father's face is tight; he's trying his best not to show his deep sadness and guilt at the mention of the boy's mother. He watches as the boy begins to undo the laces of his pants, and more guilt floods him as he feels arousal start to stir in his stomach. "I think it is time I head to my own bed." Leo nods, his ears drooping slightly. He pulls off his pants, revealing the soft skin of his legs and the tight cotton briefs.
"But Father, I'm scared of the storm," he says in a small voice. "Could you... could you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?" He looks up at his father with hopeful eyes, his tail swishing in a gentle arc. "I promise I'll be good." Anders sucks in a harsh breath at the sight of his mostly naked son. He knows he should say no, but this is the first time his son has acted like this towards him in months. So loving and carefree when, just yesterday, Leo argued with him at any chance or just avoided him entirely.
"I guess I can stay for a while." Leo's eyes light up with relief and excitement. He quickly crawls under the warm blankets, his tail sticking out like a furry question mark.
"Thank you, Father!" He whispers, his voice muffled by the pillow. "You won't tell anyone, right? That I'm still scared of storms?" A small smile forms on the father's face. He sits on the bed next to his son.
"Of course not; you have a very fearsome reputation to upkeep." Leo giggles and snuggles deeper into the bed, feeling his father's body's warmth.
"I don't think anyone would believe it if they saw me like this, " he says with a hint of mischief in his voice. But I guess that's our little secret. Goodnight, Father." Leo closes his eyes, breathing evening out as sleep tugs at his consciousness. His purrs soften into gentle murmurs.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anders watches his son's eyes flutter closed, his breathing deepen, and his body relax into sleep. The room is bathed in the gentle glow of the nightlight, casting soft shadows across Leo's innocent features. Despite the storm's fury outside, the only sound that fills the chamber is the rhythmic purr of the sleeping boy. The king's heart swells with a love tainted by a darker emotion he has been fighting for so long. His eyes travel over the pale skin of his son's barely exposed chest, the way his tail sticks out from under the blanket, the soft rise and fall of his breathing. He can feel his own arousal growing, a traitorous heat that he tries to push away.
Anders' hand shakes slightly as he reaches for the edge of the blanket, his resolve wavering. His eyes linger on Leo's slumbering form, taking in every detail of his son's vulnerability. With a silent curse, he gently pulls the fabric down, exposing the boy's briefs. His eyes trace the lines of the fabric that hug Leo's hips, the lack of a bulge that promises hidden secrets. He feels a mix of excitement and horror as he gives in to his desires, his breathing growing heavier.
"Leo... little kitten..." He whispers, his voice thick with unspoken yearning. Leaning in, his nose twitches at the faint scent of the boy, a smell that is uniquely his, a scent that makes his blood boil. He tries to ignore the voice that screams for him to stop, to leave his son be. But the need is too intense, too demanding. He brushes a kiss to the boy's cheek, then another to the soft shell of his ear, feeling the boy's body tense slightly at the touch.
With trembling hands, he reaches for the waistband of Leo's briefs, his mind racing with unspeakable thoughts. As he starts pulling them down, the sound of the rain outside seems to grow louder, as if the heavens were judging him. His heart races, his breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. He whispers sweet nothings into Leo's ear, hoping the gentle sounds will keep the boy asleep.
Leo's tail twitches in his sleep, the soft fur brushing against the bed sheets, and for a brief, terrifying moment, the king believes his son has woken up. But the rhythm of Leo's breathing remains unchanged, the purrs a steady lullaby in the quiet of the night. The room feels too warm and stifling, yet he takes it as a sign to continue, his hands shaking with the effort to remain gentle. With a tremble, he slides the briefs down, revealing the castle's most well-kept secret.
His son has a pussy, a soft mound of flesh nestled between his thighs, a secret that no one, not even the castle's most devoted servants, could have guessed. His arousal swells, a betrayal he can't ignore, his body reacting to the taboo image before him. He forces himself to swallow the bile rising in his throat, his mind a tumult of conflicting emotions. He loves his son so much, it’s killing him. Anders' hand hovers over the exposed flesh, his eyes taking in every detail, his mind racing with thoughts he knows he should not have. The sight is both mesmerizing and revolting, a contradiction that makes his head spin. He can't stop himself from touching, stroking the soft skin of Leo's inner thigh, feeling the warmth and the slight tremble of his son's body. The need inside him grows more potent, demanding action.
He shifts closer, his breathing now audible in the otherwise silent room. He returns his mouth to Leo's ear, whispering sweet words of love and comfort, his breath hot against the boy's skin. His other hand moves to cup the small mound, his thumb tracing gentle circles around the bud that he knows will bring his son pleasure. Leo stirs in his sleep, his purrs growing a bit louder, his body arching as the unfamiliar sensations reach him in his slumber. His cheeks flush, a soft, contented sigh escaping his lips as his father's touch becomes more deliberate. The king's breath catches in his throat, the warmth and softness of his son's flesh too tempting to resist. Anders' thumb presses gently against the sensitive area, his eyes never leaving the boy's sleeping face. The guilt and disgust battle within him, but the love, the deep, twisted love, wins out.
"I'm sorry, my little kitten," Anders whispers to the sleeping form beside him, his voice thick with unshed tears. "But I need this." With trembling hands, he spreads Leo's thighs further apart, his own body responding to the sight before him. His cock, now fully erect, strains against the fabric of his own pants. He leans in, his breath hot against the boy's skin, and places a gentle kiss just above the tiny pussy. The smell of his son's arousal fills his nostrils, and the storm outside seems to echo the tempest within him. He can't stop now; the need and desire are too overwhelming. Anders takes a moment to collect himself, his hand shaking as he lowers his mouth to his son's pussy. His tongue extends, giving it a tentative lick from top to bottom. The flavor, a mix of sweetness and something else fills his mouth and sends a jolt of pleasure through his body. It's intoxicating, and he can't get enough.
With a groan, he licks again, this time more thoroughly, his tongue tracing the delicate folds. He's never tasted anything quite like it, and the knowledge that it's forbidden makes it more enticing. God, this is his son. Leo's purrs grow louder, and his hips rock slightly, unconsciously seeking more of the delicious sensation. His father's gentle touch sends waves of pleasure through him, though he's still lost in the realm of sleep. Anders can't help but moan at the feeling. He moves his hands from the boy's thighs to his pussy lips, spreading them open so he can get a better taste. His tongue flicks the boy's clit thoroughly before he moves down to his son's entrance.
Leo's body jolts, and he makes a soft mewling sound in his sleep. The king's eyes widen, but he's too lost to stop. He pushes his tongue inside the warm, tight hole, feeling the muscles clench around him. The sound of the rain outside seems to grow more intense as if it knows the sin being committed within the castle walls. But the king doesn't care. He's lost in the moment, his mind consumed by the taste and feel of his son's body.
Leo's pussy begins to glisten with slick, his body unconsciously responding to his father's ministrations. His purrs deepen into a steady rumble, his hips moving in time with the gentle strokes of his father's tongue. The occasional mewl escapes his lips, a sweet sound that fills the room. Anders can't believe how good his son tastes and how right it feels. His cock aches for release, straining against his pants. He knows he should stop, that this is wrong, but he can't bring himself to pull away.
The king laps eagerly at his son's pussy, pushing his tongue as deep as he can, savoring the taste of his little kitten's arousal. Leo's thighs tighten around his head, the boy's body arching upward, offering more of himself. The king's hands come to rest on the boy's hips, his grip firm but gentle, as he continues to lick and suck, his mouth watering with each taste.
Leo's mewls become more erratic, his breaths shallower. His tail thrashes back and forth, a silent testament to his building pleasure. The storm outside seems to match the rhythm of his father's tongue, the thunder a drumbeat to their shared secret. Anders can feel his son's body tightening, the muscles in his legs quivering. He knows that Leo is close, so close. His own cock is painfully hard, begging for relief, but he denies himself, focusing solely on bringing his little kitten to the precipice.
Leo tenses suddenly, his body tightening like a bowstring drawn back. A small cry falls from his lips, his hips bucking as he gushes a flood of slick into his father's waiting mouth. The warm, musky liquid fills the king's mouth, and he drinks it down hungrily, his own body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Even through his orgasm, Leo remains lost in the realm of sleep, his moans reaching a crescendo before slowly tapering off into quiet, contented whimpers.
The king doesn't pull back, too addicted to his son's taste. Leo's whines become more insistent once again, his body overly sensitive to the relentless attention. His father's tongue continues to swirl and press against him, pushing him towards another peak. King Anders's eyes are squeezed shut, his focus solely on the sweet taste of his son's nectar, his mind lost to the horror of his actions. His breathing is ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as he feels the second wave of pleasure builds within the boy.
The intensity of Leo's second orgasm is unlike anything the king has ever experienced before. The boy's body convulses, his pussy clenching around his father's tongue as he cums, spilling out into the king's mouth in a seemingly endless stream. The taste is even more potent, a sweet nectar that fills the room with the scent of arousal. Leo's fluids spurt and flow for what feels like an eternity, painting the inside of the king's mouth, dripping down his chin, and soaking the bed sheets beneath them. Through it all, Anders remains steadfast, swallowing every drop as if it's the most precious elixir he's ever tasted.
With one last powerful squirt, Leo's body relaxes, his orgasm subsiding into gentle aftershocks. King Anders carefully pulls away, his mouth glistening with his son's essence. Leo's breathing slows, his purrs fading into a quiet hum, his body limp and exhausted. The king's own arousal is a tempest inside him, but he forces himself to stand, his legs wobbly with the effort. With trembling hands, the king pulls Leo's briefs back up, tucking the soft fabric gently around his son's still-sensitive flesh. He then pulls the blanket over Leo, smoothing it gently, ensuring that his son is fully covered. His eyes are haunted as he looks down at the sleeping form, the guilt of what he's done etched deep into the lines of his face.
"I'm so sorry, my little lion," he murmurs, his hand lingering on the boy's forehead before he turns to leave.