The Prince's Potion

First Submission - all characters are 18 or older -- Thank you!

Chapter 1

Queen Marzanna Velcin anxiously paced the royal bed chamber. She was alone. The only other movement was a roaring fire. Above the mantle hung the green and gold Velcin banner and crest. A snake eating its tail. Outside the castle, a wicked thunder storm raged. It was well past midnight and Ser Blant had taken her husband's corpse away less than an hour ago.

The illness had been mercifully swift. The pox had ravaged their coastal kingdom of Trevilan for nearly three months. In his final days, the king's most trusted advisors swore the worst of it had passed, until one by one each of them succumbed to the welted disease.

Marzanna was no fool. She knew that without a king, Trevilan would be severely weakened. Politically crippled and susceptible to attack both by sea and on land, the kingdom was in a difficult position. The uneasy peace they shared with the neighboring kingdoms of Sar Sanrosan and Balmudia rested on the relationship her husband had forged with their rulers over the course of his 30 year rule. Would that peace transcend his death? Would they honor it under the rule of the new king?

Our borders will need strengthening; our people need to know their king will see them through this sickness, Marzanna's thoughts raced. The plague would actually buy us time to fortify the borders and secure the throne. How would that be perceived though?

And then there was her son, Rodmond, to think about. Barely eighteen. Could he suddenly become king to a plague-torn country? Her only son... hardly a man, let alone a king. But such was his birth right.

Rodmond, or Roddy as they all called him, had been born sickly, smaller than they had hoped. He spent most of his days bedridden. Though he had survived childhood and the royal blood was pure, their line secure, he was slow minded and meek.

Generations of royal Velcin blood ran through their veins, in all three of her children. No one would contest Rodmond's ascendency. Royal inbreeding was common among all five kingdoms. Her own husband, the king, had in fact been her birth father, twenty years her senior, and when his first marriage to his own sister had failed to produce a male heir he took Marzanna as his next wife as soon as she had reached child-bearing age.

But Rodmond was not his father...

Could she make a king out of Roddy in such dire times? She shook her head. The idea of her baby boy suddenly thrust into the royal spotlight. He was so weak and tired all the time. How would he know what to do? The boy had no mind for politics and statecraft. He had no way with words to mold the minds of men; or had any skill with a sword for that matter. Would he know how to defend the kingdom should war come to Trevilan?

All of Trevilan knew Prince Rodmond would someday take up his father's sword, wear his crown, but not so soon. Not yet. Not at such a young age...

Marzanna continued to pace back and forth. She could always remarry, she was not yet forty. She could still bare children; the Redeemer knew she had the body for it. Her husband had almost immediately taken to her, years ago when she blossomed into a very full-bodied woman. After three children of her own, she was far bustier than she was comfortable with.

She inspected her curvy form in the mirror. Her breasts were enormous, heavy teardrops hanging low and full on her chest, and it took a well-laced corset to create the expansive cleavage she now looked down upon. Her wide hips, a big bubbly rear, seemed to be expanding every season. Though she knew these were not unappealing qualities to potential suitors. They could now prove to be an asset.

She could take some noble Trevilan lord, from a lesser bloodline, but a secure one. She could be queen regent and groom Rodmond... given the time to have him adequately trained by a team of advisors, physicians, and knights. Oh Redeemer, but this terrible plague, she thought, and my husband's corpse is not yet cold and i think of remarrying. No, i think of it only for the welfare of my kingdom, and my children.

The queen also had two young daughters to think about. Both were nubile and ready to be wed, if not for love than politically. All in service to save the kingdom, of course, she told herself. My girls, Maymon and Gilly.

Gilly was Rodmond's twin. Under normal circumstances, Gilly would be promised to Rodmond, to be his sister-queen and bear his offspring. Would they follow through on that plan now or would new alliances need to be formed through Gilly's hand in marriage?

Raised as a lady of the court, beautiful little Gilly would do anything for her mother, for the kingdom. But Maymon...

Two years older than the twins, Maymon, was her little sorceress. She was piercing and defiant, a gorgeous young woman but as headstrong as her father. Radiant Maymon had a keen interest in the arcane, and was apprenticed to old Tustin, the court wizard, that rascal. And where was he now? Shouldn't he have come up with some cure to the pox by now? He who had served the Velcin Family for four generations, using his dark magic to ensure each of their heirs was safely delivered.

Yes, the wizard, she suddenly thought. The old goat would know what to do! He was an ancient practitioner of the black arts and had graciously accepted her oldest daughter into his inner circle. His teachings would prepare her for her eventual training at the Academy in Gristult, should she pass the required tests.

The wheels began to turn in the queen's mind. Why... if the wizard could whip up some magical stamina spell, or a strength spell or something... even if only to make Roddy appear to be in a ruling state of body and mind...

Marzanna suddenly stopped, snapped her fingers, and turned to face the door. As if summoned, there was a knock. 'Enter,' she spat. It was her captain of the guard and two of his loyal dogs.

Ser Blant approached slowly and Marzanna took a moment to regard him. The captain was well into his fifties now; two years older than her husband had been and easily twice the size of him. Blant was an seasoned fighter, had trained every soldier in the castle and even the king himself, sparring with him since they were boys. Still powerfully built, though now showing his age, with flecks of white on either side of his black hair, Blant was a fixture in the daily life of the castle. He was a rock within its walls and a powerful weapon outside it. She knew she would not be able to go on without him. He had such a friendly way with the children, and had formed an especially close bond to young Gilly.

'Majesty,' he kneeled before her, as he had done a thousand time, 'the royal body is now being prepared for the funeral rites, as ordered. What would you ask of me?'

Marzanna steeled herself against the tears, against breaking down again, and straightened, cleared her throat. 'I must speak with the wizard. Take me to him, Ser Blant. Does he... yet know of the King's passing?'

'I know not, your majesty,' the old knight said, still kneeling, 'but, to be sure, little escapes his grasp...'

***

The wizard Tustin groaned as he fought to maintain a strong grip on the princesses' shuddering legs. Try as he might, from all their thrashing, every once in a while a foot would slap him in the face or a toe would slip into his mouth. Not that he minded much.

He had been fucking her royal highnesses' sweet little pussy for the better part of an hour. Presently her scrumptious naked form was spread out on top of his work table while he stood gyrating between those perfectly toned legs.

The spell he had cast on himself was nowhere near letting up, nor was he anywhere close to cumming. Princess Maymon on the other hand had been brought to three... no, maybe it was four powerful orgasms so far.

'Oh... Yes! Oh, fuck me!' she moaned between incoherent babblings, trying to form one sentence amidst the ceaseless pounding her precious little muff was getting from the old goat. 'ohhh no! Not again, Master! You're making me... again, again!'

'Quiet, child,' the wizard grunted, 'you'll wake the entire dungeon.' The old man corrected his stance, tightened his grip. He rode her through another climax and watched as his enormous, magically enchanted cock disappeared into the comically stretched cunt of his pupil.

The princess was doing her best to hang on, meeting each powerful thrust from her aged master. Scrolls and bottles had all been scattered on the floor. She let go of the table and clasped at her budding round breasts, steadied them against all the wild jiggling and hard thrusting.

'Yes, master! Here it comes! Ohhhh!' Tustin heard her cry out but did not stop his thrusting. He couldn't stop. Not until he came, the spell wouldn't let him go stop unless he did so.

This was typically how they ended each of their tutoring sessions. Tustin had been teaching the princess for a few years now and while she did indeed show real promise in the black arts, she showed an even greater promise between her legs.

He looked down upon her young form spread out and convulsing before him in ecstasy. He watched her beautiful breasts wobble as she tried to hold them back, tits that would surely be as large as her mother's someday. The old wizard admired them now, dancing across her chest, pearly-white flesh lined with tiny blue veins.

He let go of one leg and reached across to inspect a bright pink nipple, pinched it in his long nails. 'Oh, so perfect,' he murmured, thrusting into her with need, 'so young and full of life. Just like your... grandmother, was it... or...'

'Redeemer!' the princess roared through her climax. Her little hands raced to her abdomen, grabbing at a grotesque bulge that now protruded just above her groin. She stared in disbelief at the ancient and wicked cock of her master, buried deep into her most sacred of places, creating a noticeable bump just north of her stretched-to-capacity pussy.

Yes, he had trained in all the ways of lovemaking, but it was not the technique she wrestled with now, it was his demonic size. Tustin had been experimenting again and not only with prolonged stamina. The wizard had all but perfected that spell. It was the length and girth of his wicked member that he now chose to play with, to enlarge mercilessly, and the sheer size of it was one that she had yet to learn to accommodate, if ever.

The girl watched as his cock slowly receded, prepared for another beating. It had to be more than ten inches of hard granite-like flesh, magically enhanced, and far larger than anything she was used to having inside her. She watched him ready himself; she took a deep breath, knowing it would soon be buried once again in her impossibly small cunt.

Princess Maymon, or May, as everyone called her, had been in a near constant state of orgasm for the better part of an hour. Earlier she had been on top. She could set the pace with her ancient master that way, leading him by the cock, and could thereby control the intake.

But now he had her on her back, she was at his mercy.

How much longer can the old man go on? May thought, coming down from another wave of pure ecstasy, her rationale mind returning at last. Her face was a mask of sweat, her body red and blotchy from his lusty grab marks. It's not fair!

While his magic kept him cool and focused, mercilessly pounding her young pussy for everything it was worth.

Soon the rhythmic pounding continued. The princess was getting tired, she was exhausted. She needed sleep. Sleep! May thought of a spell to try and put the old wizard out, but he'd never fall for it.

'Master, does my body... ugh... not satisfy...ohhh... your lust?' she pleaded.

The old man merely grunted. 'Nonsense, girl, I'm just warming up!' He laughed.

Another few thrusts and he got an idea. As much as he loved staring at his young pupil's perfectly round tits, those bright nipples, he had suddenly had a powerful lust to barrel down on that magnificently shaped bottom of hers, those fat little white cheeks. He ungraciously extracted his fat, slimy member and proceeded to flip her over on the table.

With a playful cry, the princess flipped around and soon felt her slim legs dangle off the edge. May was aware that her round ass was on full display for the randy old wizard. She couldn't help but giggle as she felt him slap his giant erection against the soft flesh of her bottom.

'Oh, so perfect,' he breathed, he could barely contain his excitement. 'What a delicious rump, my pupil!'

The princess was suddenly filled with relief when she heard him exclaim and felt him worshiping on her perfectly shaped bottom. Of course! My ass! That always gets him there, she remembered.

'Oh yes, master,' she cried, 'please take me from behind! You'll have no trouble reaching ecstasy... this way.'

It was true, the wizard could always bottom out when he took her from behind and it was almost a guarantee that he would finish inside her when he did. May rolled her green eyes for not thinking of it sooner and then giggled again as she felt him licking her warm cheeks and kissing each one before sucking lovingly on her asshole. Then he was off it, that giant throbbing head of his cock back and parting her pussy lips once again.

Oh, there are his little rituals, she thought, he's preparing for the finale. She braced herself on the table for what was sure to be another intense fucking.

For Maymon, even though she was barely past her twentieth year, she always relished these moments. She knew how important they were. For there was always a moment, even if but one, when the true clarity of thought came... during a good fucking. Her mind went blank, her thoughts receded. She faced emptiness, and during that peak, that high, the intense pleasure that she obtained here; when she was being completely fucked apart by her master's magically enchanted cock... it was pure ecstasy.

Rivaled only by the ecstasy of learning a new spell.

One ecstasy was tied to another, of course. As it had always been between her and Tustin. The old wizard had early on revealed that, in exchange for the earthly pleasures of her flesh, he would teach her untold wisdom and the most powerful spells in all the realm.

How could an ambitious and sexually promiscuous girl like Maymon resist?

And the fact that he had actually made good on his promise since her tutelage had begun was a big plus. But there was always more to learn.

She could feel that ecstasy coming on again. There it was... the pounding, the intense pleasure. He was back in her pussy now. Nevermind my little rosebud asshole, apparently. Fuck me good, you old goat.

She took his entire length. Could hear him grunting loudly. Oh, my poor womb! I'm going to feel this for days. But there it was. The light at the end of the tunnel. He would take her there. He would flood her young, vulnerable womb with his magically enchanted seed. That rush of hot and thick potency that always gave her one last kick. Even when she thought she was totally finished. She could see it coming. Feel it. There it was. It was coming. She was cumming and soon... very soon...

A sudden knock at the door tore them from their revelry.

'Oh drat! Who could that be!?' Tustin moaned, freezing in place, balls deep in Maymon's warm little cunt. He felt her pussy twitch around his enormous shaft. What a waste! Peeling away from the sight of the most beautiful asshole he had had eaten all week, his gaze went to the giant wooden door on the other side of his lavish chamber. 'Yes? What is it?'

'The Queen,' he heard a man's muffled voice speak, 'wishes to have a word with you, wizard.'

'Now!? Here?' the queen was waiting outside? But she never comes down here, his mind raced. Something had to have happened. Oh, it must have been the king. That blasted pox. And I was so close to finding a cure too.

'Yes,' the voice said, 'Now.'

'Mother?!' Maymon yelped. 'Mother is waiting outside? Oh no, what... what do we do?'

'Keep quiet, child,' he waved and pulled his painfully erect cock from her gushing cunt. 'Get dressed. Quickly now. I'll delay them at the door.' He tried to wrap himself up as best he could but his member was still under the spell. It looked absolutely obscene sticking out from beneath his heavy black robes.

'And then what? Tustin... Where shall I go? You must do something. It is the middle of the night.'

The wizard shook his head and sighed. Such a waste of the spell, he thought, oh well, back to work. 'The curtain, girl, over there. Move it aside and try to pull out the big red tome on the second shelf. It will be heavy, keep pulling.' He was already making for the door, grabbing at the latch. 'Hurry and be sure to close it behind you. Quietly. Follow the stairs up and around. you'll be in... Wengigia's quarters.'

Roddy's nurse? Maymon didn't have time to question it. She nodded and did as she was told.

'Your grace,' the wizard bowed upon opening the door, 'it is an honor... but the hour is late.'

'Spare me,' the queen said briskly, walking past the hunched form and into the dark chamber. It was very warm in here and she couldn't help picking up the heavy smell of sex in the air. 'The king is dead, Tustin. We must speak.'

'Majesty,' Tustin remained bowed, fighting against the strain of his heavy erection.

'My deepest condolences. I only wish... I could have done more for him."

The queen heard him but wouldn't let the sadness in. She instead regarded him for a moment, studied the bald spot on his head and the tangle of white hair around it. Who had he been fucking, she wondered, some young thing no doubt, from what she remembered of his tastes.

She turned to her guards, 'wait outside.'

The two soon sat across from one another in total silence. Tustin collected himself, did his best to hide the painfully pronounced erection between his robes while the queen fought to remain stern and composed.

She held it all back. It would be far too easy to give in, break down and weep over the loss of her husband, her whole world, all of her safety and security. Things were about to get very difficult for all of them unless they acted quickly. Tonight.

Unless she took the steps right now, with Tustin's help, to secure her son's place on the throne, and overcome any opposition to his rule. She must present Rodmond as a strong leader, one who deserves to wear his father's crown. In spite of these rushing thoughts, 'Rodmond must be king,' was all she said.

'Of course, your majesty,' the wizard said, 'we will see him on the throne. I live to serve. Tell me all your thoughts.'

They then spoke at length for the better part of an hour.

Presently, Marzanna said, 'his coronation will be tomorrow. We must present him as a strong leader, able to bring the country out of this plague and uphold the peace. We must show stability. The other kingdoms need to know we are strong in the face of the King's death and this plague. I don't need to tell you how vulnerable we are right now.'

'No, your majesty,' Tustin said. All the while, his erection had become even more painfully turgid and he was very feeling wobbly. The magic wasn't wearing off. He had no idea how long it would continue. He needed to cum. Badly. It was his only way of breaking the spell.

Worse was the fact that the buxom queen was still regally dressed, her intricately laced corset displaying her mountainous breasts spectacularly before his aged eyes. Such a mature and busty woman, he thought, though somewhat older than I prefer. The deep line of her cleavage vibrated as she spoke, heavy globes of tit flesh on full display and perfectly held together just beneath her collar bone.

Tustin did everything he could to keep his eyes off her big tits. But with every wobble of flesh, there gave a painful throb of his enchanted cock, oozing thick precum; he was helpless before Marzanna's matronly bosom.