A/N: Remember you can always find me and see even more of my content, and see it earlier than anywhere else, over by a certain site that rhymes with Rate On, or a site known for its rather questionable questing practices, under the same name~
Artoria eyed the potion the 'court wizard', also known as "the most troublesome man amongst Britons", had given her. The people were asking questions, and as the King, it was her duty to answer. Though she was ageless and eternal, thanks to the power of Avalon, an heir would give them peace of mind, and dispel the ongoing rumor of their King being a woman. After all, how could a woman impregnate another woman?
According to Merlin, the book that'd come with the potion described at least sixty four different methods to engage in the process. And the key was in her hand.
Well, night had come, and she was about to retire to her chambers, and so she took the strangely purple potion and... it tasted like grape juice. Like wine, but without the alcohol. Surprisingly pleasant and- the tingling sensation was quickly overtaken by a painful burning sensation and sudden vertigo, and Artoria praised her carefulness in wearing even masculine underwear, for tighter underthings would've been quite an issue, as she felt her clothes barely contain the manhood that had grown. The pain subsided as did the vertigo, and Artoria adjusted herself.
She entered her chambers, and saw that her wife was ready, in enchanting and charming underthings. Truly a woman of unparalleled beauty, and a damned shame that she had never been truly loved as she should have been.
"Come, my husband," Gwynevere spoke. "I've made all preparations. Let us join as one for the first time since our wedding."
Artoria nodded. "At once, my wife," she said. Her clothes were easily removed, as were her underpants, and she soon joined her wife in bed. Their lips met in a dance as old as time, and their tongues met each other for the first time since the very first kiss they'd shared, and they found comfort with each other, hands exploring the other's body.
Artoria marvelled at the soft and tender flesh, the smooth, fine silk of her nightgown, and the open warmth and comfort that she found in her wife's arms. Her wife, who seemed hungry and desperate for contact and for love, who had been neglected so long...
Gwynevere's hand reached for the phallus Merlin had granted her. "So big, so stiff, truly a sword fit for a King," Gwynevere mentioned, tone husky and lustful.
"And you are certainly the woman fit to wield it," Artoria replied, a small smile on her face. "Every sword needs a sheath, my queen..."
Gwynevere smirked. "indeed," she said, and then she reached with her hand and... pushed Artoria on the shoulder, causing her to collapse.
Artoria's eyes widened and a strange sense of panic struck her, her instincts screaming- only she could not quite move herself. "What is the meaning of this!?"
"I am indeed the woman fit to wield the sword of the King," Gwynevere said. "But the world chose you, sister."
"Morgan!" Artoria shouted, as her sister's disguise fell away. "How!? What have you done with my wife?"
"That," she said, "is none of your concern," she added, her hand reaching for Artoria's still hard as a rock penis. "Truly a prodigious tool. Would it fill you with pride to know your manhood is greater than my husband's?" she mused.
"No," Artoria lied openly, not even the slightest bit convincing.
"The girth, the length, the stiffness, even the smell - a first rate piece in all its parts," she mused, her single finger running from the root and following her penis' natural curve all the way to the glans,. "Of course, as for the product," she wrapped her arm around the shaft, "it should be... checked thoroughly, to see if they are up to the task..."
Her hand, softly but firmly gripping the shaft, began to pump up and down. Artoria squirmed in place. "Stop this, Morgan!" Artoria shouted.
"Do remain silent," Morgan said. "Or, rather, feel free to let out your pitiful, disgusting moans," she said, her hand moving slightly faster.
Despite herself, Artoria could not hold back her voice as Morgan began to twist her wrist slightly, giving Artoria even greater pleasure. "S-Stop it," Artoria pleaded. "This is not... I am married, my wife-"
Morgan looked amused. "What does it mean when your marriage is based upon a lie?" she asked, idly. "What is your marriage worth, when it's naught but political fiction?"
Artoria glared at her, but couldn't hold the glare in place as Morgan added her second hand.
"Such a kingly weapon," Morgan spoke, her voice slightly regaining that lustful tone it'd had before when she was pretending to be Gwynevere. "Even among the Fae, you'd be a champion," she admitted. "But you are now my victim, a simple source for seed, to execute my plans. The abominable red dragon, brought low by something as simple as a penis, fufufu..."
Morgan was skilled, of that there could be no doubt. Artoria's moans and groans filled the room as she was forced to endure pleasure the likes of which Mortal Men seldom found themselves the victims of, a brutally pleasurable torture, slow and methodical, giving unforgiving stimulation to every part of her stiff manhood.
Her sister's hands were swift and thorough, and no part of her was left unchecked, and even her balls were touched all over, lightly squeezed and pulled, and Morgan even ran her fingernails down the sensitive skin, the slight edge of pain only heightening the mind numbing pleasure of Morgan's expert handjob.
With all her muscles tightened as much as she could, Artoria thought her endurance was at a limit, that it was the end, that her sister would achieve her goals...
And that was when Artoria noticed her sister's control slip. Just for a second. Just for an instant.
"That's it... give it up, give up your seed to me, Artoria... Give me all your semen, that I may craft your doom with it..!"
There was something in her voice. Something deep. Something primal.
Something that awakened something in Artoria, as her reason was dashed by her boiling blood, the roar of a dragon overtaking Artoria's lust addled brain as Morgan's paralysis spell collapsed completely, the pale fairy now utterly and completely focused on getting her prize.
Now freed and with the burning desire that accumulated in her balls pounding at the back of her head, flooding her body with restless energy and lust, Artoria moved quickly - far quicker than her sister could have expected. But rather than throw the incestuous fairy off of her, or making any sort of effort to free herself from this situation...
Artoria's body demanded that she reproduce, demanded that she use this insolent wench to quell the fire that she'd stoked.
And so she did. Artoria grabbed the back of her sister's head, as she came ever closer to Artoria's penis in her anticipation, and shoved her down, her own surprised reaction opening her mouth to allow Artoria's cock to invade her throat.
Morgan choked and gagged and flailed - but she was but a human before a dragon, when it came to their physical capabilities, and she had absolutely no chance in hell of breaking Artoria's grip as the blonde King began fucking her throat. "Morgan! Morgan! Morgan! Your throat feels so good! Here it comes! Here comes the sperm you wanted! Take my semen! Take my cum! Take it all, you slutty adulteress!"
Morgan tried to scream but it was muffled and blocked by Artoria's prickm and she couldn't even do anything to pry Artoria's hands off of her or push herself off of Artoria's body, as Artoria fully hilted herself in Morgan's mouth, and let her balls finally loosen their contents, the thick dick milk that Morgan had been stimulating the creation of with her tender and brutal ball massage.
Shot after shot after shot disappeared down Morgan's gullet, of the impossibly virile penis the King of Britons sported, a cock that exceeded even the reproductive power that the greatest of dragons could boast. Morgan was bearing witness to the truth of the King of Britons' greatest treasure, neither the sword, nor the sheath, or even the light that shines at the end of the world, but the ephemeral weapon that could defeat her most insidious enemy.
Artoria finally let her sister go, and Morgan pulled herself back, fingers on her lips.
She'd... gotten what she wanted? She'd wanted cum, right?
Artoria's loins burned with desire, her cock throbbing even as Artoria used the coating of saliva, precum and leftover semen to lubricate it. Her sister was stunned, still not really awake, and Artoria couldn't wait. So she grabbed her sister's legs, spread them and loomed over her, rubbing the tip of her penis to Morgan's gushing, exposed cunny. The underthings she'd chosen as Gwynevere had not included a cover for her womanly parts.
"You were expecting this," Artoria said, moaning as she felt the incredible pleasure that rubbing herself on Morgan's lips brought her. "You came here for this. This is what you wanted."
"No, you brute!" Morgan shouted. "I- I couldn't, I'm married!" she pleaded, desperately.
"My marriage didn't matter to you, why should yours matter to me? And besides..." Artoria poked Morgan with the tip of her penis, almost splitting her lips, but not quite, "your mouth may spout lies still, but your body is honest."
Morgan trembled in place and her pussy gushed. "Do not," she pleaded.
Artoria didn't hear, however, and plunged in, splitting her sister's impossibly perfect vaginal lips, taking the first lover she'd ever taken, having sex for the very first time, and delighting in turning the Witch that plagued her country and attempted to bring her to ruin... into a mere woman, a simple mortal, nothing more than an animal, just a female to be bred by the King. Morgan's moan was long, loud and lewd, so very very lewd, the sound of her pleasure-addled voice sent an electric current of pleasure from her ears to her dick and pussy, and Artoria found herself feeling extreme pleasure.
Mouth open, gasping for breath, face flushed... this, truly, was the most beautiful face of a fairy, and right then, there, under her on her bed, being bred, was her rightful place.
And so Artoria began rocking her hips, heedless and careless, for Morgan was merely a vehicle, a vessel, an object for her to pleasure herself with. To give herself that which life had denied her for so long, and fulfil one of the most ancient and basic instincts of Man, that the King had been forced to abandon, by procreating and truly joining as one with another.
"You're so tight, so wet, so hot," Artoria moaned. "You're so beautiful," she added, looking down. "Show me, show me the face of defeat you make, sister, show me the face your husband has never seen!"
Morgan protested, tried to cover her face, but Artoria was stronger, and pulled her hand away, and though teary eyed and protesting, she herself could not deny that her sister was giving her pleasure that no other had ever approached. "Stop! Shtop! ah'm, ahm goin' stupid," Morgan pleaded. "Sho good, sho good, 'rtory, 'toria," Morgan moaned, "more! more! Fuck me more!"
Unable to deny her sister such a passionate and honest plea, Artoria increased the speed and strength of her thrusts, the sound of skin slapping skin almost as loud as their moans, and the King's bed creaking and protesting as Artoria pounded her evil sister into it, almost hard enough to leave a permanent indentation, a reminder of their lustful, furious mating dance.
Morgan's hands reached for Artoria's shoulder and neck, and pulled her until their chests met. Though covered, Morgan's larger breasts still felt quite nice, and their lips on each other's were even better.
"I'm- I'll finish," Artoria said, as their kiss broke. "I'm going- I'm going to-"
Morgan's legs crossed behind Artoria's waist. "Do it," she said. "Cum inside me," she added. "Breed me!"
Artoria moaned and lost control at her sister's final plea, and like the floodgates had opened, Artoria let loose, and began filling her sister right up. Her entire body seized and shivered, as her balls overworked in producing as much cum as possible, filling her sister's entire vagina, flooding out of the place where they were joined, splashing onto Artoria herself. And then another cumshot came, the same size as the first, and Morgan's belly began to inflate as she was overfilled. The fairy's eyes bulged and her body trembled, and then she voiced her orgasm, only silenced by a deep and loving kiss that the sisters shared as both of them orgasmed into each other.
It felt like minutes, when finally, Artoria finished cumming, and the penis disappeared into nothing, leaving them both covered in their juices, intertwined in bed.
Mordred's eye twitched.
Morgan coughed.
Artoria blushed.
"I only asked how you and dad got together I didn't need THAT!"