The Prince's Potion Ch. 03

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Chapter 3

Rodmond sat alone in the small privy council chamber.

It was very early in the morning and his head throbbed considerably. He took another big gulp of water from an ivory cup. Long beams of sunlight poured into the room from either side, and he felt warmth surround him. His mind swirled with thoughts from the previous night. Flashes of scenes, moments of intense passion, and graphic sex.

Had it all been just a dream, he thought, or had he really done... all of that with his mother and sisters? He had so many questions, so many strange feelings. He wanted to run to his mother and get her to tell him everything. Tell him that it had all happened, and things were never going to be the same. Yet here he was, alone in the room his father had dedicated to matters of politics and strategy.

His mind replayed the hurried events from when he woke earlier.

Morning light had stirred him awake and Wengigia, his dutiful nurse, was there to dress him, as was customary. It was like any other day. He was the only one in his bed. The girls were gone. His nurse told him that his mother had instructed her to prepare the king for a small council meeting and to bring him to escort him there as quickly as possible.

Rodmond complied with her wishes and rose up slowly. He studied his nurse. He had never seriously gotten to know the woman, he reflected, as she worked to prepare him. She was caring and attentive, fulfilling his every need since he was a child. She even still nursed him, much to his delight, as his penchant for breast milk a well-known secret among the nurses and handmaids of the castle.

What would it be like to fuck his nurse, as he had done to his mother and sister? She was modestly proportioned, if base born, but not unattractive. She was probably in her mid to late thirties if he had to guess. She was short and stocky, with bushy brown hair that she kept wrapped up in a bun on top of her head. A loose woolen blouse did nothing to cover her rounded milk-laden breasts that swung freely in his range of vision. For easy access, Rodmond knew.

Wengigia had been pushing out kids since a young age and her big tits were constantly leaking the sweet nectar Rodmond loved so much. She seemed only too happy to oblige his fetish, often nursing him for an hour at a time. Historically this would get no response from his cock even though he enjoyed it immensely.

He wondered what would happen if she fed him now? What was she going to say when she saw how big and hard he got... after so long of only seeing his useless limp dick. Would she take him in her lap and let him nurse while she jerked him off? His mind raced with ideas.

Soon enough, she stripped him and Rodmond couldn't help noticing his nurse's surprise at his new profile. How changed he was after having taken the wizard's potion. She made an especially big fuss over the extraordinary size of his member. She had seen it hundreds of times but never like this. A fat fleshy tube hung flaccidly between his legs, and two weighty balls swung behind it. She couldn't believe such a big dick belonged to the boy she had nursed for almost eighteen years.

He would have liked very much to wedge his hard cock between her milky tits and see them spray everywhere while he fucked them. Show her how big and hard he could get now that he had all this strength and stamina to back him up.

Luckily for both of them, he remained soft for the duration of his wash and dressing. Maybe the girls had actually broken the spell last night?

Even now, sitting at the head of the rectangular wooden table in the council chamber, he felt the heavy lump in his pants. Resting against one leg. Blessedly flaccid, but still considerably bigger than it had been two days ago. Were the changes permanent or would he need to keep taking something, some potion, to maintain? Who would do that for him now that Tustin was dead?

He took another sip of water. More time passed and he emptied the cup. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. His mother flashed in his mind, bouncing on top of him. Her magnificent breasts overflowing in his hands. And his two sisters. So small beneath him. Oh Redeemer, what had he done to little Gilly last night? He could hear her in his mind, crying out. But was it in pleasure... or pain?

Suddenly the door opened and saw his aunt Morrigan, the High Priestess of the Church of the Redeemer, gracefully enter the room. He stood immediately and faced her.

'High Priestess,' Rodmond said, greeting her as she approached.

'Majesty,' she said briskly, and motioned for him to sit. Fully clothed in her holy regalia, Morrigan Velcin's demeaner gave little away. Only her face was visible, eerily like his mothers if but a little older. Her slow eyes searched the room casually. Her fat lips in a permanent pout. 'Thank you for being here so early. It is important that we hold this meeting together. It will not surprise you to know that I am the only other surviving member of your small council. I am therefore here to bring you up to speed on the present status of the kingdom.'

'The only surviving member? Is Ser Blant... not available?'

Her aged face contorted for a moment as she stopped and stood over the chair to his right. 'No, your majesty... you had Ser Blant executed this morning. I am told it was your direct order and that it be carried out at sunrise.'

'What? Executed? But I... I gave no such order,' Rodmond searched his memory.

'Well, your majesty, the order was delivered by your mother, on your behalf, mere hours ago, as I understand it.'

'Oh, I see,' he said. He nodded to her and made a note to speak to his mother about this later. 'And we have yet to replace him, or Father's senior advisors, as of yet... due to the plague, is that the way of it?'

'Indeed, Majesty,' Morrigan nodded and remained standing over the chair, her designated seat. Her compact white form towered over him.

Rodmond sighed, met her gaze, and took the measure of his aunt. So, Aunt Morrigan was the only other living member of his small council. She was his mother's only sister. And it was only by chance she had been visiting the castle on church business when the latest measures of quarantine restricted her from leaving. The High Priestess Velcin, he thought, had always been so stern and austere when he was a child. Now Rodmond looked at her in the morning light and saw the woman she really was, beneath all her holy garb, and saw a woman.

Morrigan had joined the church at a very young age, he understood. She was older than his mother by two years. That would put her around forty, he gathered, but her face gave away little, on account of her extremely conservative attire and lifestyle. Morrigan had never taken any husband or partner, she had no children, as far as he was aware, and lived a very devout life in her role as High Priestess.

As a member of the royal family she was given special privileges, even as a child, and afforded an excellent education as well as anything the royal family's wealth and influence could buy. Yet she had chosen the faith and worked her way up its ancient order to achieve the rank of High Priestess. Something no other woman had previously done at that age.

Rodmond smiled, she was a Velcin, through and through. A child of their royal inbreeding, she bore all their family's signature traits. Beneath her white wimple was the jet-black hair they all had, and he was sure it could be found else where on her body as well. Morrigan was arrestingly beautiful to look upon. She had a high forehead, high cheekbones. She had the signature green Velcin eyes, which appeared brighter now framed by the opaque white clothe around her face. Big pouty lips the women of his family all had, and a cute button nose.

How had he never noticed her beauty before? Truthfully, it was hard to gauge her figure from all her robes, along with the heavy black and gold sash she wore around her shoulders.

He supposed up until two days ago, he thought little of pleasuring or impregnating a woman. Now these thoughts consumed him. He continued to take her in. She was not tall, perhaps a foot shorter than him, but he guessed she hid a powerful bosom and rump under there, he thought, sizing her up. She could not hide all her curves underneath those clothes. Her hourglass form was self evident. He wondered if she was as buxom as his mother.

'Ahem, yes,' Morrigan cleared her throat, picking up on his blatant staring. 'Majesty, you will need to appoint new advisors to your council. Considering the recent deaths... and a new wizard will be needed. We shall have to send for one from the Academy. A minister of ships, of land resources, and of foreign relations should be identified immediately. I have prepared several suggestions for each. A new captain of the guard and a minister of military matters should also be chosen. These should be treated paramount to all other issues in the face of the quarantine restrictions.'

Rodmond let her words sink in. 'You mean to say the entire council... was killed by the plague?'

'Yes, Majesty. All the positions I've mentioned were held not two weeks ago. And all of them, save for the Wizard Tustin and Ser Blant, were killed by the plague.'

'Incredible. It is as if the plague were out to get us! And how was it that you were able to avoid contracting the disease, Aunt Morrigan?'

'High Priestess, Majesty,' she corrected and continued, 'to put it bluntly, I believed in the plague. And I don't mean religiously. I knew how powerful it was when Tustin originally brought the news of its spread to our attention... nearly four months ago. I knew then, based on the evidence he had provided, and similar cases from other kingdoms in the past, that this plague could easily spread and spread quickly.

Especially in the high-density areas. It travels both by human and animal. A deadly combination, Majesty. I think the results speak for themselves.'

'Yes. And the council? What were their thoughts?' Rodmond asked.

The High Priestess scoffed. 'The council did not heed Tustin's advise. They downplayed its severity and blatantly ignored it when suitable. They carried on operations, business, within the castle walls, and outside it, with minimum procedures in place to hamper its spread. This, I believe, to be the root of our current predicament. We ignored it long enough for it to spread to a point where it can no longer be ignored.'

'How so?'

'Had the disease been identified early enough, based on what evidence we had at the time, I think a full measure quarantine might have prevented the swiftness of its spread. Given our wizard time to create a spell... a cure. Alas, here we are.'

'Indeed,' Rodmond thought for a moment, 'now where do we stand? How bad will it get and what kind of losses can we expect?'

Morrigan gestured their empty room. 'The plague does not see status or age, Majesty. It attacks the young and the old, the rich and the poor. The current estimates, Tustin's, were that this plague would claim... one third of our population before it is run out.'

'One third. What does that mean exactly?'

'The plague will kill its way into extinction. It will burn itself out. It seems too good at being fatal and that seems to slow its spread. Our recent efforts to seal off the castle and the adoption of similar strategies at our largest towns, seems to be lowering active cases. It will be hard fought, your Majesty, but we can survive this.'

'I see,' he nodded, grim news to begin his rule. 'How much longer do you suppose our quarantine must last?'

Morrigan's face darkened and it was difficult to know just what she was thinking. Presently she said, 'at least another three months, highness. To be safe and to drive the numbers down. This is working.'

Rodmond nodded. 'Mother says we are vulnerable. Trevilan is at risk of an attack.'

'It is true, Majesty. Our weakened state has opened us up to the possibility of an attack where none existed before. But your father had built strong relations with the neighboring kingdoms, trade agreements and accessible means of travel, but...'

'But what?'

'But those Kingdoms have yet to formally acknowledge your rule.'

'It has only been a day, Aun-er... High Priestess,' Rodmond sighed and leaned back in his chair.

He caught her eyes lock onto the noticeable bulge in his pants. 'Even so... their ambassadors were present at the funeral. And your coronation. We should have received official word by raven this morning at the latest. Nothing has arrived.'

'I see. Well, perhaps... the plague has reached them now as well?'

'Possibly. But our reports seem to suggest otherwise. In fact, the poor state of Trevilan has only inspired them to adopt the procedures we initially shirked, lest an outbreak also decimate their land.'

'They learn from our mistakes, is that it? What is your council... High Priestess? How can I bring my father's kingdom out of this plague? How might Trevilan prosper once more?'

'Heed the results, Majesty,' she said slowly. 'I do not fear an attack currently. The other kingdoms are too weary of war. Only a generation has passed since our realm fought against the Amalor swarms. A long battle for resources would be unwise... while the risk of their soldiers contracting the plague is so great. The church agrees with this sentiment. We must continue to isolate, tell our people to do the same, and provide for them while they do.'

'Provide for them? With our own money?'

'Indeed, sire,' she nodded, 'else we run the risk of bankrupting the kingdom as well killing it.'

Rodmond reflected on her words for a long moment. It all made sense to him. Trevilan needed stability, and this was at least one way to get it. As for the other kingdoms and his rule, he would just have to wait a little longer and see how they responded. It sounded like he had plenty of time to do that.

'Is there anything else, High Priestess?' he asked and stood up to stretch his arms. He watched her eyes go straight for his crotch. He could feel them on him, inspecting every inch.

He felt his cock twitch and move inside his breeches. It was coming to life again. So big and heavy now, hanging down one leg, his swollen balls down the other. The power was still inside him. The hunger. He saw her look go on longer than he was comfortable with. She was enchanted by it and finally he had to pretend to straighten his shirt and pants for her to stop staring.

He was still soft, thank the Redeemer.

'Umm, yes, Majesty. Your... mother mentioned the royal wedding. To your sister Gilly. Have you made any plans as to when to hold the ceremony? It may help to move things along, politically, to solidify your rule.'

He snapped out of his budding eroticism. He hadn't given the wedding any thought, to be honest. He was still trying to make sense of last night. Rodmond wanted to know what kind of state the girls were in and how they were holding up. He had thought they would spend all day in bed together and was surprised to find all of them had departed prior to his awakening.

'No, I have yet to make a formal decision on this matter. I will, of course, consult with my mother... and sister, at once.'

'I agree,' his aunt said, 'they should all be made aware of your plans.' She glanced again between his legs.

'My... plans?'

'Oh, naturally, for instance, planning how many heirs you wish to spawn...' she stepped forward to stand before him. He could feel her breath on his neck, see the age lines on her face, by her eyes, and yet, she was still a hauntingly beautiful woman. She was trembling. 'Given how close all of you are... after last night.'

'Last night?' Rodmond said, stunned. 'You know about... that?'

The High Priestess laughed and rested her small hand on his chest. Her fingers were cold against the exposed skin from the neck of his tunic. 'Oh, my boy, I would be surprised if there was anyone in the castle who didn't know... about your escapades last night. Especially all the noise coming from your mother. My word. I haven't heard her scream like that... since we were children.'

'Oh, Redeemer,' Rodmond gasped.

'Yes, my child,' she gave a hoarse laugh, 'I'd say he had something to do with it. But now... I want to see what else the wizard did to my nephew. I want to know what it was... that forced his mother and his sisters into such a wild frenzy last night.'

'High Priestess... I don't know what,' he stammered.

'Forget the titles. Don't play dumb, boy. we're past all that now. I want to see this thing,' she whispered, her jewelled fingers slowly travelling down his taut stomach, and feeling for the root of his fat cock. With an audible gasp, she soon had her fingers on it. Through his thin breeches, his aunt struggled to get a grip, but then gasped again when she could not reach around it. 'Oh, what a remarkable size. So generously endowed. What magic, indeed...'

Rodmond could only smile at her as she looked past him, up into space, still trying to feel his cock through his pants.

He felt it stir within him again, blood rushing to the head. 'You really want to know, aunt Morrigan?'

She was panting hard now. 'Oh, blessed Redeemer... forgive me, but I must.'

***

Maymon slowly brought her head up out of the hot water.

Red rose petals, flowers, and herbs swirled around her lush naked body as she languorously wiped both hands over her head. The royal bathhouse had been closed off this morning, at her request, just for her and her sister Gilly. Their mother, Queen Marzanna, had declined their offer to simmer with them, citing far too many royal duties that required her immediate attention.

Maymon stared up at the vaulted ceiling. She loved the palace bathhouse, with its marble floor and mosaic walls. The white pillars that bordered the pool. The rectangular bath was large enough for twenty people comfortably. Now only she and her sister occupied its rejuvenatingly hot water.

The girls needed rejuvenation after last night. They had both refused to sleep, even when Rodmond had finally dozed off again. They lay with him on his bed, watching him and his enormous member. Thankfully it had not stirred for the remainder of the night, and they assumed they were in the clear.

Now, rather than sleeping after such a long and rigorous night, the girls insisted on spending the morning relaxing in the baths rather than their beds. So much so that May and Gilly had gone directly to the baths as soon as the sun was up. Marzanna had instructed Roddy's nurse to keep a close on him and deliver him to his first official meeting as king in the small council chamber. Hopefully he could control himself there.

Maymon pushed herself forward in the hot water. It was a deep greenish blue from the tiling. She began a relaxed stroke towards the other end of the pool where her sister lounged half submerged. Gilly leaned against the smooth marble edge, a small white towel around her shoulders.

Maymon couldn't believe their plan had worked. The potion Gilly had taken had worked. She watched her sister, a dim sheen cascading off her bare breasts. Saw Gilly's pronounced nipples bob just above the water. May couldn't believe that this little girl, lounging lavishly in the pool before her, was the same one who had done so much, taken so much, only hours ago. Four times. And to finally break the spell over her brother and satisfy his giant cock with that petite body.

Maymon had created that very potion, with her own magic, to combat the one her master Tustin had made for Rodmond right before his death. And although she didn't fully understand how it had worked, it had worked. This was their celebration. Their much-needed respite.

Maymon had admitted to herself, while she put the ingredients together last night, that she wasn't even half the wizard her master had been. She was barely much more than an apprentice. her training with him had only really been in preparation for the education she would get should the Academy accept her next year. But their need had been so great, to save Rodmond, that she had been willing to take chances. She was willing to also admit that she had probably just gotten lucky.