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“Focus on the countess,” Merlin instructed. In the distant courtyard, a lady in red mingled and danced to music that barely reached to where the two watched from a rooftop. “Bite down and swallow quickly.” It seemed to be a very large bilberry. When she chomped on it, bitter liquid filled her mouth. Gulping it down, she felt dizzy; a warmth like mulled wine spread through her.

Closing her eyes until the episode passed, she opened them to music loud in her ears. Somehow, she was in the midst of the festivities, moving with no control over her limbs. Her red sleeve confirmed she was seeing through the countess’s eyes.

The old count delegated entertaining his young wife to his lieutenants, who took turns dancing with her. A tall, blond knight approached, bowed, and took her hand.

To Morgana, his worn, less-fancy clothes made him less attractive than the others, but the countess had a different reaction. Her heart beat faster and a tingle arose between her legs. The nuns repeatedly warned the maiden to resist that sensation. As they danced, feelings of excitement and danger grew.

Reaching the periphery of the dancers, the countess claimed exhaustion. She and the knight strolled away into the garden. With a quick glance around, they stepped into the gardener’s shed and closed the door.

In the dim light, everything happened quickly. Fear and lust boiled as she was hoisted onto the bench, her skirts lifted, and his pants lowered.

Dizziness returned Morgana to her own breathless body. She was not inclined to pray to dispel the itch in her loins when she felt Merlin’s hot breath on her neck.

The scrawny lad had inhabited the stalwart knight. As surprised as the maiden by how events unfolded, like her, he inherited his passion. With boldness and urgency, he grabbed at her full breasts through her tunic, sensing her desire. Their mouths met passionately, not the sweet kisses he had earned by creating lights in a dark closet or performing other basic spells over recent months.

The apprentice wizard had not expected this side-effect from the enchantment. Instinct overrode intellect as he pressed his body into her warm softness. Despite her schooling, the maiden lifted her hem to reach to soothe the agitation growing there. The lad saw that as encouragement to lower his trousers.

Unseen and unguided, his rigid pole poked furry mound and damp flesh before addressing the virgin opening. She tensed, realizing its relative dimensions.

Merlin mumbled the words the Mage had told him one night after consuming too much wine. “That spell,” he had slurred, “will reflect the pleasure you feel. Women are often cheated of gratification. This incantation will make them want to return to your arms.” The young wizard had dreamed about the day he would use it.

Morgana squealed as their virginities were dispatched. The moment of pain dissolved as Merlin’s delight imbued her. Together they shared the joy of enfolding and being enfolded. They paused, watching the hunger grow in each other’s eyes, until his hips began to move intuitively. It was fast and erratic and did not last long, but the rapture was sharp and bright.

For most maidens, that initiation is something to be endured to obtain subsequent benefits. The unexpected and intense pleasure of that first time implanted in Morgana a thirst to know more about sex. When Merlin later confessed how he had improved the experience, her curiosity about magic became an even greater obsession.

That eventful day had shown the bookish wizard that he could achieve what stronger, bolder, more handsome gentry took as their birthright. It spawned his ambition to develop and use his skills and art to achieve what he wanted.

As years passed, Merlin learned much as apprentice to the Mage. Morgana convinced him to share some of his knowledge in exchange for her favors, which educated him in those ways. When he declined some of her most brazen requests, she would try to seduce the Mage, with occasional success.

Her proficiency in both arts allowed her to leave the protection of the nuns and live on her own, trading the use of one skill or the other for what she needed. Their personalities too similar and too strong, she and Merlin were never lovers, yet they happily collaborated in a variety of sexual adventures. Both enjoyed combinations with all genders, with or without sorcery.

Promoted to journeyman, Merlin was assigned as tutor to a young squire—not in magic or sex, but in more worldly knowledge. After he was revealed to be the rightful king by extracting the sword Excalibur from the stone, King Arthur took Merlin as his trusted advisor. He ruled with compassion and humor. His calm deep voice and sincere chestnut eyes helped spread his dream of a united, just, and prosperous land.

The king recruited honorable knights to his cause, the greatest of which was Lancelot, whom no man could defeat. Tall and dark, with piercing sapphire eyes and clarion baritone, the perfect specimen of manhood and unblemished virtue, he became Arthur’s closest friend. Together, they established peace and the rule of law throughout the land.

With war behind them, the greatest king made Guinevere, the most beautiful and graceful maiden in the land, his queen. Merlin was well-satisfied with what they had accomplished for the good of all in the kingdom. Morgana, however, could always discover new appetites.

Setting her eyes on Lancelot, she contrived to be in distress one day while he was exercising his steed. When he bent to assist her, she flashed the glowing green gem that nestled between her breasts on a gold chain.

“Take me to my cottage,” she commanded, and his will bent to hers. Knowing he would be missed if she kept him too long, she first asked what many wanted to know, “What is the source of your strength and skill?”

“I am chaste. The purity in my heart and mind has been rewarded," he stated flatly.

“But many knights choose that path. Why are you special?” she was skeptical.

“They may stray from the path. I cannot.” As he spoke, he lowered his trousers without embarrassment, revealing a steel cup that completely covered his genitals. “That was placed by Theomacha, the evil witch who sought to use me for her purposes. It is cursed, and cannot be removed.”

Morgana’s face fell; she had planned to use what was imprisoned there. It was not attached with a belt or other fastener but with potent witchcraft.

Undeterred, she lifted her skirts, exposing her thick, red muff. “Do you know what to do with this?” she asked.

Lancelot fell to his knees and went straight to work. Apparently, Theomacha had used him this way. Sniffing the fragrance of her anticipation, he slurped with gusto and used his whole face to churn her flesh. Feeling her legs tremble as he teased her nub, he applied his lips and suckled like a thirsty calf.

She collapsed into a chair as she groaned her fulfillment. He crawled to continue his lapping until she could take no more.

“Have you known no carnal pleasure?” she wondered aloud, urging him to his feet.

“She sometimes used me as a woman,” he said, turning away, bending at his waist and spreading his cheeks.

“Tell me honestly,” she proposed. “If I remove that contraption, will you do something for me?”

“If it be honorable service, indeed I would be rid of it,” he agreed.

“Return now to your duties and remember only that you helped me back to my cottage,” she intoned. “I will contact you when I discover the method.”

Morgana pored through her books and snuck into Merlin’s library as well, looking for an answer. She drooled (from upper and lower lips) imagining what she would do with the knight’s virgin organ once she released it.

She even used her substantial charms—corporeal as well as magical—on the Mage. Breathing life into his ancient gonads made him lower his defenses; during his post-coital naps, she explored the most secret parts of his archive. Finally finding a recipe to try, she pilfered the rare ingredients from his supplies.

When it unlocked the device, the nostrum would restore Lancelot’s free will, breaking the hold she as well as Theomacha had on him. Morgana also mixed a love potion so he would immediately return to her thrall.

Lancelot’s predicament was not the only source of unease in the castle. Slipping out one day, Guinevere rode alone to visit Merlin at his bungalow.

“Like his sword, his massive organ is as hard as steel and nearly cleft me in twain the first time he inserted it. Sometimes the strain of it exceeds the pleasure it induces, yet I must emote effusively to convince him to culminate, lest he dutifully persist in his efforts and do me damage.” She recalled such occasions.

Merlin’s eyes grew wide to hear such frank words in her sweet, melodious voice. Alone with the queen and so close he could kiss her, he was intoxicated by her golden locks, her bright peridot eyes, her skin that glowed like a full moon. Visualizing penetration by the king’s appendage, he was jealous of both of them.

“Moreover,” she continued sadly, “its size denies me its full service. There are only a few ways I can adequately indulge it. Whether from boredom or concern for me, Arthur’s lust has diminished in depth and frequency.”

His ribald imagination rose to enumerate lewd remedies for the unhappy, but no less alluring, queen. But his heart went out to her and his friend the king, driving the fantasies from his mind.

“The magic to create a griffin transforms the eagle and the lion to allow them to mate,” he mused. “A much milder spell should serve for you and your husband.”

It took only a few minutes of clattering bottles, burning smells, and bubbling liquids to produce a small vial.

“Take this only when you are alone with the king,” he cautioned. “It will adjust and compel you to each other. Do not be surprised by what you see. At least it will not be as confusing as if he were the eagle and you the lioness.” He chuckled at the last.

As the Fates conspired, the day the queen visited the wizard was the same day the witch was to free the knight. Avoiding attention, Guinevere returned to the rear entrance of the castle.

In Lancelot’s room that overlooked that door, Morgana prepared to administer the draughts and intone the spells that would remove the impediment to her desires and bind him to her.

“All I ask in payment is that you allow me to ensure you are restored to your full natural abilities,” she said slyly. “Such a noble knight should be free to choose a mate and provide her with children.” Whether or not her voluptuous body and sensuous skills garnered his worship, her magic could guarantee it.

Lancelot had lowered his pants and she licked her lips in anticipation as she administered the two preparations. At that very moment, Guinevere’s horse shied as she dismounted, sending her sprawling with a scream. Recognizing her voice, he sprang to the window as he swallowed the second potion.

The detached device clattered to the floor. Lancelot pulled up his trousers and sprang from the room to go to the queen’s aid. He promised the sorceress he would return to satisfy his debt.

When the queen sat up, she realized the vial had shattered on the stones. Quickly mopping the potion up with her sleeve, she decided to make the best of it and seek her husband immediately. Sucking the bitter liquid from her garment, she ran with her head down, trying not to see anyone until she encountered Arthur. With her vision clouded, she found her way by recognizing the patterns on the floor.

Rounding a corner, queen and knight collided. Guinevere seemed to have fainted, so Lancelot carried her to the royal bedroom. As he laid her on the bed, the room grew dark. Feeling himself under the power of some spell, he collapsed next to her.

Lancelot woke as if in a dream. All was dark around him, save the ethereal glow of the queen’s body. She sat up, looking puzzled at him.

Guinevere was surprised to wake up with Lancelot next to her in the royal bed. Her foggy mind thought him out of place, but her heart felt he belonged there. The tent pole stretching the knight’s pants drew her attention. Aware of his affliction, she shook her head, trying to reconcile emotion and reason.

“Remove your trousers,” she ordered.

It was the queen’s voice, but coming from the luminous facsimile, he knew the words were Morgana’s. She smiled when he complied. His unselfconscious obedience, as well as the swollen organ between his legs, confirmed her intuition—this was not Lancelot but her husband!

“Now we will know the rewards of this magic!” she cried, grabbing his erection and pulling him onto the bed. Thinner than the king’s true cock, it would surely go places that his could not. Laughing at the wit of Merlin’s sorcery, she took it into her mouth. Its lesser girth allowed it to reach the back of her throat. Her tongue worked the shaft as her lips rode up and down its length.

Stunned by the intense pleasure he was experiencing for the first time, Lancelot gave no thought to why Morgana chose to take the queen’s form. Had his mind superimposed her image of paramount beauty on the coarse witch?

“Command me as you wish,” he acknowledged the bargain he had made. “Let me perform all that—until now—I could not do.”

Hearing her husband in those words, Guinevere composed a list. Undressing him and removing her clothes, she crawled on top of him, her pussy spread before his face. She swallowed him all the way, his tip extending into her throat.

Whether it was the sight of that tempting repast in front of him or the feel of her throat caressing the bulb of his organ, the overwhelming surge of pleasure washed over him as he erupted. Her gulping sent more bolts through him as he finally ejected what had been accumulating for years.

She thirstily swallowed it all until it stopped pulsing. Checking the first item off her list, she released his implement and considered the next. It was still fully rigid, so she moved to put it to use.

Standing and turning around, she squatted astride him, lowering herself onto his cock. Seeing the queen’s body for the first time, he knew what perfection was. Flawless pale skin enwrapped a sleek form. The blushing peach patch of fur he wanted to nuzzle matched the tresses that dangled to her chest. Lowering herself onto him, she leaned forward to fill his hands with her soft orbs, the rosy nipples firm and plump between his fingers.

She shivered with pleasure instead of strain as her cunt engulfed his dick. Without the usual stretching, she easily cantered on him, churning her insides with his rod. The long strokes sent ripples into her most sensitive spot. Her excitement had been building while she sucked him and she rode faster, closing in on her reward.

If his first orgasm had been a celebration, being embedded in her flesh was a miracle. From her sounds, he recognized a woman approaching orgasm. Erstwhile his view at that juncture had always been from below; he rejoiced to be able to see the radiance in her face. His hips instinctively twitched under her as she leaned forward to kiss him, pressing her searing body against his chest.

Her completions on Arthur’s battering ram were labored, wearing her out as they overwhelmed her. This gambol was light and sweet, like a butterfly flitting through the air. She whimpered her delight as she wriggled in a tintinnabulation of ecstasy.

When the queen grew still, the urge to continue led him to wrestle her under him. His body moved, following the dictates of sorcery or innate desire, as he thrust harder, deeper, and faster.

“Yes,” she hissed, “release the beast inside you!” Knowing his power, the king had always restrained himself at such times. She longed to know his unbridled passion and felt able to withstand it in this form.

The knight’s chivalrous nature struggled to contain the humors boiling within. With Morgana’s permission, if not mandate, he surrendered to their effects. Propping himself on arms and knees, his hips drove his spear into her again and again. The pressure building inside him was even greater than the first time.

To the extent that Guinevere had any thoughts at that moment, they were to give pleasure to her husband. But the unprecedented pummeling she was able to absorb was launching her back to the precipice. She, too, became feral, seeing neither husband king nor courtly knight but wild animal between her legs.

She growled her climax with a sound she knew not how to make. It burned in his ears as it lit the oil within him, flaming as it gushed forth and cascading into her deep well. They convulsed in unison, clawing at each other as the waves of euphoria melted them together. He finally collapsed on her and they remained silent, interlocked, feeling their hearts beat together.

After long minutes in the afterglow, Lancelot was roused by his cooling sweat. Despite the overpowering elation of the encounter, the blasphemy of seeing Morgana as the queen began to weigh on him.

“Have I discharged my duty to you?” he asked, rolling off her.

Although well-satisfied by what had occurred so far, Guinevere recalled her list and remembered the last item. Knowing it was the act the king’s true cock could never perform, she wanted to offer it, certain she could accommodate him in this form.

“There is one more,” she said, noting that his cock was still hard and glistened from her juices. She paused to apply a generous gob of saliva to the head of it, then turned on her hands and knees. Looking at him over her shoulder, she circled a wet fingertip around her rear portal.

Lancelot thought back to how Theomacha had used him. He did not expect Morgana to want this treatment, despite her reputation. It seemed inconceivable that he could assault that tiny bunghole nestled between those two perfect globes. Was seeming to defile the queen the ultimate price that Morgana required? So far, the consequences of her commands had been more bounty than ransom.

Knowing the power of the witch and having learned the pleasures of an unshackled penis, he could not bear to have it trapped again. He moved into position as ordered.

She felt the tentative pressure of his glans against her anus, the wetness cool but still slick. Realizing he might be hesitant, she leaned back sharply, popping the head in past the sphincter before he could react.

The knight had doubted he could fit through the small aperture until she jolted back against him, making him breach it. The tight ring was like her lips, but the warmth of the interior was like her cunt. Her enticing movements sent sweet throbs into his shaft as her backward pressure drew him deeper. Resigned to complete this task, he held her hips and sank to the hilt.

She adjusted to the intrusion and relaxed her ass, enjoying being filled in that way. Her excitement grew as she looked back to see the blissful expression on his face, her mind mapping it onto the king's visage. Applying her fingers to her sopping pussy, she stirred the coals of her recent orgasm.

The knight enjoyed the tight grip reluctantly, recalling with shame the pleasure he sometimes received from Theomacha’s invasions. Had the wooden phallus she pounded into his ass transmitted to her the same delight his cock was now receiving?

The queen’s exultation was as much for herself as for what she was giving her husband. She hoped that the king would be pleased when she revealed Merlin’s hand in it and that they might do this again from time to time. She teased her clit, keeping herself relaxed but sending occasional gentle contractions onto the rod that moved in and out of her.

A loud groan and a burst of thrusts signaled his eruption, so she polished herself off with some quick buffing. Their ecstatic sighs were interrupted by a crash. A maid bringing in the chamberpots shrieked and dropped them at the sight of Lancelot and Guinevere fucking in the royal bed.

The queen’s body reacted, ejecting the still spurting knight. “All is well, dear girl,” she tried to calm her. “It may look strange, but this is the king.”

The words jolted Lancelot more than the noise and his ruined climax. The darkness around him dispersed; suddenly in daylight, he realized where he was. What had Morgana done!

By now, guards had entered the room, sounding the alarm. Covering themselves with a blanket, they talked over each other, confusing the growing crowd all the more until Arthur himself strode through the doorway.

The room was instantly silent. Surveying the scene, the king was speechless.

Finally one of the knights who accompanied him shouted, “Arrest them! By law, it’s treason against the king!”

Once they had been taken away, Arthur consulted with his trusted knights. Threatening the line of succession, Guinevere’s offense was the greater and compelled painful death. Lancelot’s crime warranted exile, which some might consider the worse punishment.

Arthur’s heart was torn, not just by the treachery of his wife and his best friend, but because the law made it impossible for him to forgive or pardon them. Each had a different ridiculous story of enchantment, but it mattered not. Denying what so many had seen and ignoring the law would make him no different from the tyrants he loathed. Their fates were sealed.

Two days later, Morgana found Lancelot in the stables, preparing his mount for his departure into exile.

“Before you leave, I can arrange for you to see the queen one last time,” she said.

“How?” he cried. “She is locked away and to be executed. The king denied my request to die in her stead or with her.”

“The king has ordered her brought to his room. I can take you there and distract him for a while.” She toyed with the incandescent jewel that dangled into her cleavage. “But there is a price!”

She lifted her garment with both hands, exposing her crotch to him. “On your knees and be quick about it!” she cackled. She would have preferred to finally get fucked by him, but she knew time was short.

Lancelot reprised his earlier performance, quickly making her gasp and stagger in fruition.

“I wish you could teach the whole kingdom to do that properly,” Morgana sighed, reluctantly pushing him away. “Wash your face in the trough,” she warned, laughing. “You don’t want the queen to smell me on your face.”

Merlin had mesmerized the guards and led the queen from the dungeon. “I will smuggle you into the royal bedroom and explain the mishap; you can show the king your love and loyalty.”

Guinevere was pacing, awaiting Arthur, when Morgana brought Lancelot into the room.

“Oh, no!” the queen despaired. “The king will find us!”

Morgana flicked her gem and both froze in place just as the king barged into the room, having heard her voice.

“What is this?” he shouted. “Must I watch you cuckold me again?”

Morgana froze the king as well, while Merlin slipped into the hallway and erased the commotion from the guards' minds.

Only eyes could move: Arthur’s furious brown, Guinevere’s despondent green, and Lancelot’s anguished blue.

“Before you three go to ruin, death, and exile, I want to explain what happened and how you can resolve this dilemma,” the wizard began, addressing the king. Shorter and thinner than the powerful men, only his tall hat mitigated the imbalance. He risked all lecturing them this way.

“The queen visited me wondering if I could help her increase the frequency and pleasure of marital relations. I instructed her to take the draught when she was alone with you. Unfortunately, the vial broke when she fell off her horse returning to the castle. She sucked what liquid she could from her clothes and ran to find you.”

He gestured to Morgana to continue the tale. “After much research, I discovered how to remove the chastity device from Sir Lancelot,” she explained. “Theomacha intended that she would be the first person he saw when it was removed so that he would instantly love only her.”

She saw no need to tell the whole truth. “Just as it unlocked, we heard a crash. He looked out the window, saw the queen in distress, and ran to her aid.”

Merlin continued. “Hurrying with her head down so your majesty would be the first man she saw after tasting the potion, she ran into the dutiful knight, who had already seen her first through the window when that curse was broken.” He paused to see in their eyes that his words registered. “At that point, neither could resist the compulsion of the enchantments.”

“You all probably want to murder Merlin and me for causing such trouble,” Morgana said ruefully, “but, knowing our good intentions, would that be justice? Besides, just because you know the truth doesn’t mean the law will see it differently.” She addressed them in sequence, “Ruin… death… exile.”

“Don’t be cruel,” admonished Merlin. “We wouldn’t have bothered bringing you here now if we didn’t have a solution. If you are willing to listen, we will unbind you and explain. If you please, dear Morgana.”

With three flicks of her gem, they could move, testing their arms and legs.

“Now hold your tongues as we get to the bottom of things,” he said, drawing a giggle from Morgana and suppressing his own.

With a flourish, he whipped his hand in a circle above his head, creating a silent vortex around each of them. Piece by piece, their clothes were removed and scattered about the room. The two naked men stared at the queen in her exquisite nubility. His next spell might not have been necessary, but he raised the index fingers of both hands to quickly complete the erections that had started to grow.

“The queen told me,” the wizard continued, “as befits he who wields Excalibur, your majesty possesses a lance that the queen welcomes through her tower window as well as her gatehouse.” He vaguely gestured to the royal oral and nether lips.

Arthur proudly thrust his hips forward. Seeing it erect for the first time, Lancelot bowed, acknowledging its majesty.

Morgana continued, “Yet, Sir Lancelot, friend to the king and protector of the queen, because of his years bound in that cursed chastity device, more closely resembles an arrow.” All politely took only quick glances.

The queen was at first puzzled as Merlin turned her away from the men, but when she saw his eyes gesture from the knight’s crotch to her buttocks, her face lit up in recognition.

“My king, my husband, my love,” she said, turning back to look at him over her shoulder. “There is no way that you could tend my postern gate.” She wiggled her round ass seductively. “It’s a delicacy any common wife may enjoy. Would you not assign that duty to your most loyal knight, knowing that no bastard would issue from that womb?”

Four breaths were held awaiting the verdict of the fifth.

Arthur guffawed explosively when he understood, “Indeed I will so decree!” Merlin produced a parchment, conveniently dated the week before. With a few strokes of the quill and a ring pressed to a wad of wax, their troubles were vanquished.

The queen threw herself at the king, mashing her body against his, almost being lifted off the ground by his massive appendage. Lancelot began to look for his clothes, but the king interrupted.

“Beloved deputy, let us consummate this new law,” he commanded. “We want no whispers of intrigue or favoritism. Let the guards and chambermaids hear us.”

He carried his wife to their huge bed. Lying on his back, he pulled her onto him, gesturing for the knight to join them. The magicians watched with interest, drizzling some slippery syrup in appropriate places as the nobles kissed, squeezed, and caressed until Guinevere was ready for the attempt.

Straddling Arthur on her knees, she impaled herself on his claymore with a stuttering sigh. Throwing a seductive wink over her shoulder, Guinevere beckoned Lancelot to pierce her with his épée. Three moans sang a major cord as they began to move in that embrace.

More joyful than passionate, there was no rush to conclusion. Morgana and Merlin exchanged glances, considering whether they should go or stay. Tempted by the flexing of the knight’s muscular ass, Morgana fetched something from her bag. Merlin chuckled and nodded.

The V-shaped carving had been fashioned from the joint of a branch to the trunk of a tree. Shaped in detail, the polished shafts resembled penises. From personal experience, the wizard knew that it dispensed pleasure from both ends.

With a whip of his hand over his head, the two observers became naked. Briefly licking both parts of the implement, the sorceress inserted one end into her cunt and moved to engage that dancing butt, teaching it new steps.

Merlin moved behind her, making use of Morgana’s unfilled channel. He intoned the spell from their first time, repeating it for each link in the chain so the delights of all five were shared.

Together the five came a lot—that night and for many years. Thereafter, Lancelot became the first among equals as many knights were spent on that great round bed.