Author's Note - This series is a continuation of 'The Prince's Potion,' and set around twenty years later. Though not necessary, I strongly recommend reading those stories prior to this one. This is the penultimate story in the 'Velcin Dynasty' series, and it's a little on the slow side. There is plenty of incestuous sex throughout but I'm also wrapping up story threads in this one for the grand finale. I realize my stories are not for everyone. If you're not interested in exaggerated sex organs, incest, inbreeding, and medieval/fantasy settings, this may not be for you. Thank you for the continued support and feedback!
All characters in sexual situations are 18 or older.
Chapter 9 - RISUK
Far north in the central kingdom, the imposing Castle Wren, its ancient battlements and high black turrets long seen as a symbol of the royal family's endurance, stands ominously above the sprawling snow-covered capital city.
Despite the late hour, candlelight can still be seen from the window of the young Queen's royal bedchamber, high in the eastern tower. Though these are the final days of winter in Risuk, blizzards are still commonplace, and tonight is no exception. The winter storm raged and, thankfully, drowned out the screaming coming from inside the rounded room.
Morrigan Velcin, retired High Priestess of the Church of the Redeemer, sits quietly, if irritable and bothered, in the corner of the spacious circular bedchamber, next to a roaring stone fireplace. At sixty years old, while accustomed to long winters, she had little desire for this one to go on much longer. The matronly older sister of Queen Marzanna, Morrigan long ago shirked her royal duties in favour of joining the Church of the Redeemer. After forty years of service, she had stepped back from her holy role to support her family's expansionist ambitions. Tonight, she was feeling her years.
A buxom woman of medium height, Morrigan wore a permanent scowl fixed to her plump lips, refusing to relax in her rocking chair. She was still arrestingly beautiful, with deep green eyes, a high bun of black-grey hair, pale white skin, and regal features, all those lifelines and wrinkles. Even at her age, men still stopped to admire her curvy figure, the sway of her big round hips, the heaving of her massive bosom. Curvaceously built ever since she was a girl, Morrigan was blessed,
or cursed
, with enormous breasts, heavy and full, that unless well packed in a bone-reinforced corset or tight robes, rested low and full on her stomach, or filled her lap when she sat down, as they did now in her thin nightgown. Her hourglass figure had only expanded over the years, a once enviable butt that now shook and jostled vigorously with every move.
While mostly a hassle for Morrigan in her later years, her shapely body hardly ever went unnoticed, or unappreciated, by one young member of her family.
Presently, Morrigan rocked back and forth doing her needlework. She had always liked to keep her hands busy, and this was her second favorite nightly activity for them. She would sit here and work, on a quilt this time, while the real action happened only a few feet in front of her.
Thud, thud, thud!
Morrigan waited her turn.
Slap, slap, slap!
She had to put down her needlework several times to watch them go at it. But she knew it was all theatrics. It had been three months of nights like this and still no results. Wembretta Wren was still not pregnant.
'Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Ughhh ugh ugh... come on, baby, come on!'
came the moans from the young queen of Risuk thrashing on the bed.
'More, lover, more! give it to me, you big fucker! Oooooh fuck me, you're deep! you're so fucking deep!'
This was their third round tonight and Wembretta was ovulating. They would go at until she passed out. Now in their third month of this week-long routine, she was finally starting to keep up with her wickedly hung lover, eighteen-year-old Prince Vyman Velcin.
'Fuck me, fuck me, fuck meeeeee!'
Though sinfully young, Vyman, like all royal Velcin inbreds, had an unnaturally high sex drive. Magnificently endowed with an absurdly oversized sex organ, he thrust and humped on top of his lover energetically, as only a teenager could after hours of lovemaking.
'Ah! Ah! Ooooo!'
Wembretta, for her part, certainly had the body to manage a big cock like Vyman's. She was startlingly tall for a woman, and statuesque, with big teardrop boobs that rested high on her chest and a taut, muscular body. She had strong arms and toned legs, with flaxen hair that reached down to her shapely ass. Vyman currently had his hands all over it as he slammed into her.
Thud, thud, thud!
'Ahh! Ah AH! That's it! That's it! RIGHT THERE!'
Yes, the girl could fuck
, Morrigan conceded,
surprise surprise.
Over the last three months, since the ritual in the grove, they had learned that while Wembretta had the body for rigorous sex,
royal breeding
as Vyman called it, she often lacked the stamina for it. Vyman was determined to get her pregnant and committed to upholding his end of the deal. Wembretta, while more than willing, usually tapped out after three or four rounds.
And that was when Morrigan came in. Often acting as fluffer or substitute pussy, to take the hung teenager's frantic pounding until he pulled out to deliver another substantial load into what they hoped was Wembretta's fertile womb.
Plap, plap, plap.
'Give it to me good, lover! Suck my big tits!'
Morrigan continued back at her needlework as the headboard tapped rhythmically against the wall, wooden legs creaking and straining from their needful fucking.
During the day, everyone resumed their public roles. Vyman was the official Ambassador of Trevilan stationed in Risuk, Morrigan his faithful senior advisor. Wembretta, in her young and beautiful new body, posed as her own daughter, Princess Sambrette, and, after being coronated Queen last month, fulfilled the duties of her role to the letter.
A letter the Velcins had written for her.
Like the plague which had spread through Trevilan twenty years ago, today's Velcins spread across the other kingdoms, strategically planting themselves among the royal families almost unimpeded.
Queen Sam, as the locals called her, was decidedly more driven than her "
recently deceased"
mother. The beautiful young monarch overturned dozens of border policies and taxes, opening Risuk to significant trade with Sar Sanrosan and Gristult, their closest neighbors. Most drastic of all was the recent approval to bolster the southern coastline, harbors and ports which had seen nothing but decline in the last twenty years. With almost unhindered spending, Sam had outlined years of potential growth for the sheltered and mountainous kingdom. Some said it was the young Queen trying to make a name for herself and not stand in the shadow of her protectionist mother. Others could not help but note all this came off her announcement to marry so quickly after her coronation. Indeed, only two weeks after being crowned, Queen Sam announced she would wed Prince Vyman Velcin at the beginning of Spring.
It was the talk of the kingdom!
Such a high-profile marriage would naturally mean improved relations between Risuk and Trevilan not seen since before the plague years. Lords and ladies from around the continent now travelled to the capital in anticipation of the historic union.
'You're in my stomach, Vyman! Eeeee, Eeeee! You're fucking my guts... ughhhh... with your big dick!'
Morrigan rolled her eyes as Wembretta continued her chorus, shrills of wanton pleasure and ecstasy.
She could certainly take a good pounding. But it was a marathon with Velcin boys, not a sprint!
