Large castle on mountaintop

Sir Vincent, honoured knight of King Arthur, crept through the darkened corridor with his sword drawn, calculating each step carefully. It was no exaggeration to say that his very life depended on his caution and to put a foot wrong could spell his doom. All alone in the heart of the High Sorcerer’s fortress, he was lucky to have survived this far. He would have felt significantly more at ease if he had had his fellow knights to reinforce him, but Camelot’s soldiers had learned the hard way that using brute force against the Sorcerer resulted only in failure: many men had tried to raid his castle, had made it into the very corridors he now traversed even. None had escaped alive.

If it were not for the issue that the Sorcerer had the rather particular hobby of abducting the wives and daughters of Camelot, Sir Vincent might not have found himself in the fortress at all. But for the past three months, that is exactly how the cursed magician had occupied himself, sweeping into the city, he and his hooded minions, and claiming no less than three women a night, some no more than a day turned eighteen. The remaining women, perplexingly, seemed undeterred by the kidnappings, yet the men were all riled up into a frenzy.

Only two nights past, Sir Vincent’s own wife had been taken, and he had personally offered to embark on the dangerous quest alone in the hopes that he might be able to reclaim his beloved and return with valuable inside knowledge of the fortress and the many dangers it held.

He had to admit, however, that the walls in which he found himself confused him. Absent were the expected skeletons decorating the walls, the grates in the floors through which desperate prisoners wailed for release. The suits of armour with their pikes and blades did not occupy the alcoves, nor did the smoky braziers light the passages. Instead, it was ornate carvings and rich tapestries that dominated the walls, majestic woven rugs that line the floors. The alcoves boasted beautiful marble statues finer than the those from the hands of the best stonemasons in Camelot, and the halls were lit brightly by the many chandeliers that hung from the rafters.

The place unnerved him, and he clutched tighter onto his blade.

Without warning and to his utter amazement, his own wife emerged from one of the many doorways lining the corridor. She was dressed in finer attire than he had ever seen her in before, a long flowing gown that could have turned a queen green with envy, and her hair was swept back in a simple plait, lush and shining unlike he had ever seen it before. Catching sight of him, she looked as though she were about to perish of a failed heart.

‘My dear Gwendolyn,’ he said, rushing up to her and taking her hands in his, ‘I thought I might never see you again.’

‘Oh, Vincent,’ she said hesitantly, ‘nor I you. But whatever are you doing here?’

‘Why, I am here to save you, my love,’ he said, glancing anxiously about, ‘save you from the evil clutches of that wretched magician.’ Pausing, he looked her up and down, taking in her opulent clothing, her cleanliness from to toe to crown. ‘I thought to find you locked up in some fetid dungeon, yet you seem unharmed.’

So wrapped up in his elation was he that he did not notice the expression of sly cunning that crossed his wife’s face, nor the subtle weaving of her fingers that sent a small wisp of pink energy flying down the corridor and out of sight. All at once she fell into his arms, her features written with well-acted desperation. ‘Oh, Vincent, you could not imagine the tortures he has beset me with. Beneath these robes are lashes and brands more than I care to count. And would you believe it, he has me walk around in this finery to pretend like I am his own maiden!’

‘How dare he, the brute! All the more reason that we must leave quickly, my love. King Arthur will be able to make great use of all you know of this place. Then we can return and end his evil life once and for all.’

‘Of course. Come, follow me, I know of a secret exit we can use. Even the mage himself does not know of it, but I have been too afeared to use it until now should he pursue me.’

Hurrying along the corridors with her, he soon became lost in the maze-like passages, and he was certain that without his wife he could never have hoped to find his way out again. At length, they arrived before a great wooden doorway that she gestured for him to pass through. Doing so, he found himself in a large bedchamber. Much of the space was dominated by a four poster bed more grand than he thought even King Arthur could afford to own, and more tapestries lined the walls. The left wall was composed entirely of folding shutters that were closed but stretched from floor to ceiling, while at the opposite end a set of glass doors opened onto a sprawling balcony overlooking a marble-tiled courtyard below.

Confused why they were here, he turned to his wife, who he found sliding bolts across the doorway and locking it with a key that she slipped between her breasts. ‘Gwendolyn,’ he frowned, ‘what are you doing?’

‘She is stopping you from running.’ The figure to whom the voice belonged emerged from an adjacent room, drying his hands on a small cloth. Sir Vincent had seen enough of the man’s face on his wanted posters to identify the High Sorcerer, and he levelled his sword at the man.

‘Stay back, you foul creature, or I shall run you through.’

‘Oh please,’ said the man, flicking his fingers and sending Sir Vincent’s blade flying across the room. He looked bored. ‘Given how many of your men have marched in here before now do you really think I haven’t heard that before?’

Sir Vincent reached for his daggers, but they too had been removed: the Sorcerer twirled them idly in his grasp. Disarmed and defenceless, the knight shifted nervously from foot to foot.

‘What have you done to my wife? My Gwendolyn would never lead me into such danger of her own will; have you control of her mind?’

The man was dressed in no more than a tunic and cotton trousers, yet he struck more fear into Sir Vincent than any foe he had ever faced.

‘Done to her? Nothing. Well, I mean I may have swelled her breasts a little, taught her a few spells and upped her libido just a tad, but that’s nothing I haven’t done to all the women I have here.’

The knight spat at him. ‘You beast. You have defiled her body and tempted her to witchcraft! You shall die for this. And thanks to you, my wife shall now be tried as a sorceress!’

‘I won’t tell if you don’t,’ winked the mage.

‘I’ll strangle you to death with my bare hands!’ roared Sir Vincent, ‘For my wife, my fallen brothers, you shall die!’ He stormed over to the man.

‘Right, I’m bored,’ sighed the magician, and with a snap of his fingers he froze Sir Vincent in his tracks.

Immediately, he began to feel something very wrong at his core. His insides felt as though they were writhing with a life of their own, and he broke out in intense sweats that plastered his hair to his scalp. His fingers began to tingle. Tearing off his gauntlets he held his hands up and marvelled as they began to change before his very eyes. His thick, gnarled digits thinned out, losing their hair and their many battle scars until the flesh was smooth and soft, his dirty nails soon clean and perfectly-filed. The tingling sensation then began to make its way up his arms and suddenly the armour over them felt loose. Writhing where he stood, soon his entire body was alive with the tickling, tingling sensation and he felt every hair stand on end. What felt like lightning raced up and down his spine, and all at once the armour on his legs fell to the ground. Glancing down, he saw that his legs themselves were twisting and reshaping, the copious quantities of hair vanishing and the muscle around his thick calves shifting up to his thighs first and then his rear, which swelled pleasurably. Sudden agony lanced through his chest as it pressed to tight against his breastplate, and he was forced to tear it off. Discarding it, he gasped as he watched his chest inflating, swelling out like ripe melons, while his stomach and the remainder of his torso shrank. His short hair suddenly erupted from his scalp, cascading down to his shoulders and fading from brown to blonde, and he could feel the bones of his skull shifting in an oddly pleasurable manner. Fresh ecstasy coursed through his loins as his manhood shrank and in its place a wet slit opened up, a new pussy that tingled with overwhelming pleasure. Finally, the remaining armour he wore began to change as well, shrinking and tearing to became metal-studded leather harness, starting in a collar around his neck, descending between his new naked breasts and slinking beneath them before wrapping around his flat, toned stomach and descending to ring the tops of his plump thighs. By the time the transformation was complete, Sir Vincent stood all-but naked in his new female form before his wife and the mage, save only for the harness.

When he spoke, his voice was high and melodic, which somehow shocked him the most. ‘What have you done to me?’

‘I have given you new life,’ grinned the mage. ‘And trust me, you’re going to love it.’ Striding up to the new woman, he ran strong fingers along her delicate curves, circling her with admiration in his eyes. Something about that look set his loins burning. ‘You see, you knights have got it all wrong. I’m not evil. I’m not even mildly annoying. All I want is to enjoy myself and live in luxury.’

‘What man abducts so many women if not an evil one? Or slaughters hundreds of brave men?’

‘I didn’t kill anybody, I gave them exactly the same treatment I just gave you. All of your knights are perfectly well and alive and walking these corridors happily, just in the bodies of women instead of men. As for the women of Camelot, well I couldn’t just leave them to suffer, could I? Sat there day in, day out, serving their husbands’ every whim, unappreciated and unnoticed. I offered them a new life of passion and freedom, and they took it. Look at your wife, does she look as though she wants to escape?’

Turning, Sir Vincent saw that his wife had slipped free of her gown, laid it neatly upon the bed, and was eyeing him with a lust he had never seen in her before. He had to admit, nothing in her body language or casual smile looked at all as though she wanted to leave.

‘It is an open secret among the women of Camelot that I will come to free them soon too, and once they have all been claimed, even Queen Guinevere herself, I shall be at peace. If the men come to reclaim them, they shall join you and your fellow knights in the bliss of femininity. I shall make love to them just as I make love to all the women here, and I shall care for them as their husbands and fathers have never cared to do. Come, look.’ Striding over to the shuttered wall, he swung it open. Without thinking, Sir Vincent followed obediently, joining him on a spreading wooden balcony overlooking a great hall. Packing it from wall to wall were naked women, most sleeping soundly on soft cushions and blankets, a few engaging in oral sex with one another, or making out gently as they groped their lovers. ‘There is no villain to fight, Sir Vincent. And since you will be remaining in this body, perhaps we should change your name to Lady Violet, eh?’

Seeing the hundreds of women beneath him, something sparked in Lady Violet. Something animal. The Sorcerer was right, she thought, this was better. She wanted to taste the pussies of her fellow women, wanted to grind up against their bodies and fall asleep in their arms. She wanted to make her way down amongst their sleeping bodies and kiss every inch of every woman until they were all awake, until they were all doing the same and until they were locked in sexual ecstasy, every one of them. And the Sorcerer would walk amongst the orgy, making love to each woman until it came to her turn.

Overwhelmed, she fell into his arms. ‘What is this feeling?’

‘Ah, the transformation can get you pretty worked up, and like I said, the women here have a pretty high libido. You need the transformation to be… consummated shall we say.’

Groping herself sensually, Lady Violet looked up at him despairingly. ‘How can we do that?’

Smiling, the man led her over to the glass doors and, swinging them open, they emerged onto the balcony. Removing his clothes, he lay down on a long, plush pouf and called over Lady Violet’s wife. ‘Miss Gwendolyn, would you please prepare me and your wife?’

‘Of course,’ she nodded and, sinking to her knees between them, she sank her hot mouth over the man’s growing dick. Something about watching her wife please the man set Lady Violet’s loins aflame and she began to moan in desperation, clutching her soft tits, her thighs and ass, humping the air with increasing vigour. The sudden feel of her wife’s fingers as they slipped up inside her sent explosions of passion coursing through her, white lights popping before her eyes. As Gwendolyn bought the High Sorcerer to his full height, so too did she finger her wife vigorously until Lady Violet’s thighs were running with her own juices and she thought that was about to cry with the pleasure.

Sliding his pulsing dick from her mouth, Gwendolyn turned to her wife. ‘He is ready for you,’ she said. Guiding her wife over the magician’s body, Gwendolyn eased her down until the tip of his penis was aligned with her throbbing pussy. Gently, oh-so-gently, she pushed Lady Violet down and with each millimetre that entered her the woman’s expression grew more satisfied, her eyebrows soaring, her eyes rolling back and her supple lips forming a perfect ‘O’. Once he was inside her, Lady Violet knew at once what to do.

Redhead in harness rides lover while watched by blonde in lingerie

Grinding up and down his great length, she worked his dick as though she had been born to do so. Rapidly she sped up from a gentle movement to a hungry riding, each thrust threatening to send her out of her mind with lust. Her passionate moans rolled from the balcony and through the forest beyond, but she barely noticed as the magician filled her completely. Her insides were stretched to their limits, but she could not have cared any less since it felt so incredible: his hot dick was deep inside her and nothing in the world had ever felt better to her. Beside them, her wife stared up at her with an expression that mixed jealousy, lust and adoration all into one, and Lady Violet knew that once she had finished, her wife would take her place astride the man they both loved.

Lady Violet did not know how long they stayed there, her riding her lover with such desperation it was almost a physical pain, but she did not care. Later, the Sorcerer explained to her that he could use a particular spell to hold back his climax for however long he desired, and another to provide him with the stamina to continue indefinitely. In that moment though, she knew neither of those things, and instead all she knew was that she wanted his cum to fill her completely and she would do anything to get it.

When at last he finished, Lady Violet screamed so loud it evicted birds from their trees. His hot seed cascaded through her insides and before he had even fully emptied his load she could feel it dribbling from her hole. Exhausted and content, she allowed herself to be lifted, shaking, from his dick and led into the bedroom by his wife.

‘I know it can be a lot to take at first,’ she said, ‘all that cum inside you, but you get used to it. His magic grants him many gifts, and the best is the fact that he can fill us so completely. You need seem cleaning up though. Here.’ Lying Lady Violet down beneath the covers, she rang a golden bell and almost immediately a raven-haired young woman entered the chambers wearing exactly nothing at all. ‘It’s my wife’s first time,’ Gwendolyn told her, ‘she needs some cleaning up while she rests.’

Nodding, the girl made her way beneath the covers and Lady Violet moaned as her young tongue expertly licked up the cum leaking from her pussy. Her wife ran a hand over her head. ‘I am glad you are here to experience this with me, my love. You sleep now, and when you awake I will show you how women sleep together here. I love you.’ Kissing Lady Violet gently on the forehead she left her in the hands of the woman beneath the covers. The last image Lady Violet saw before falling into blissful slumber, was her wife sinking herself onto the High Sorcerer’s waiting dick and throwing back her head in a scream of passion…

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