Morgana of the Black Moon. Harbinger of Hell, Ransacker of the Righteous, Violator of Virgins. Her titles number as many as her sins, her infamous cruelty only matched by her unsurpassed beauty, renowned and feared throughout the land for her mastery of sorcery and seduction.
But, dear reader, she was not always so. Before she enshrouded the kingdom in darkness, before she forged the Black Knight, before she was Morgana of the Black Moon...she was Morgana. Simply Morgana. Born from a humble coven of simple means, named after one of the greatest witches in history, the young Morgana began her tutelage under the great Voroven, the oldest living disciple of Merlin himself! This, is her story...
*
Flashes of light played across the early morning sky, electric cerulean hues and vivid reds composed in a vaguely phallic shape as two witches made wild gesticulations from the green hill below.
One was of short black hair and equally short stature, her features unremarkable except for her buxom chest, an effect of having a little extra weight. The other was of average height and blonde, her features pretty and girlish, possessed of a voluptuous body.
Morgana, the raven haired one, dropped down to her knees, exhausted from the effort. "I tell you Sophie, there's something to this sex magic! I know there is, it's the key to life itself!"
Sophie chuckled, an air of idiotic self satisfaction permeating her voice. "Well thanks for the pretty light show but I think I'll stick to my fireballs and lightning bolts, traditional magic is the way to go! At least I think..."
"You can't even cast fireballs yet!"
"Well yeah but Scarlett can, and it looks pretty useful, compared to a glowing cock!"
Morgana's skin crawled at the name. Scarlett. She was nearly everything Morgana wasn't. Tall, pretty, athletic but with incredibly large breasts, breasts that Morgana was sure weren't achieved by natural means. But that's what witches did. It didn't help that she had exceptional talent for sorcery, further inflating her ego.
The one thing Morgana did have over her was drive. Ambition. She had to fight for every achievement, every bit of knowledge she acquired, whereas Scarlett had grown complacent, lazy from her gifts. She would show her yet, as Sophie's airhead voice broke her out of her musings.
"...besides what are you gonna do with a ghost cock, sex em to death? Fireballs can incinerate people!"
Morgana smiled. "Funny you should say that Sophie, as one's sexual arousal is very closely tied to one's life force, so in a manner of speaking, yes, I could drive them into an orgasmic grave."
A haughty voice penetrated the air. For a second Morgana thought it was her master, Voroven, but then it sounded too female, too arrogant without the wisdom to back it up. "What's this, the sad little virgin giving lectures on whore magic? Speaking from all your vast experience are we?" said Scarlett, her fiery red hair bobbing as she walked up behind Sophie.
Morgana's face flushed red in embarrassment, her virginity was a sore subject for her, but she was obstinate in not changing her form to be more desirable. She did not want to be something she wasn't like all the other witches. What angered her more was the hypocrisy of Scarlett, well known for her dalliances with their master, for more secrets and favors.
"You're one to talk Scarlett...on vast experience."
Scarlett's emerald eyes flashed in rage for a moment, before furrowing her face with well practiced indignation. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about! Why is it always the virgins who know the most about seduction? Hmmm? Perhaps someone isn't as chaste as she would want us to believe..."
She flicked her hair back dramatically, her heavy cleavage jiggling from the motion as she stared Morgana down. "But what else would you expect from someone named Morgana? Never before or since has such a lying harlot caused so much pain and suffering...you may surpass her yet..."
Morgana blew Scarlett over with her wand before straddling her to the ground. "You bitch!" she cried as she held her hand over the redhead's pubic mound, a purple glow seeping into her quickly moistening sex. Scarlett gasped, her large tanned breasts wobbling in her skimpy witch outfit as her fingers dug into the earth, intoxicated from the wonderful sensations.
Sophie stood by, struck with indecision and watching with growing arousal as her fellow pupils pawed at each other. Morgana's lips glowed before kissing Scarlett intensely, their ample breasts pressing into each as both moaned into each other's mouths. Scarlett's immense bronzed cleavage contrasted starkly against Morgana's pale globes, even with their clothes on, Sophie could tell Scarlett's breasts far outsized that of Morganas'.
Morgana started rubbing Scarlett's sex through her dress, the fabric chafing exquisitely against her nub while her other hand groped one of the redhead's abundant breasts, squeezing hard as her palm dragged against her nipple, eliciting more moans from the writhing witch. Before it could get even more heated, a whistle resounded through the air as Morgana was knocked back.
Voroven had arrived, his regal wizard robes fluttering in the aftermath of his separation spell. He stroked his graying beard as he spoke, clearly enjoying the sensation it created as well as the grizzled but dashing image it imparted on his acolytes. "My my...what have we here? I daresay Sophie, we were almost witnesses to a rare act of lesbomancy! Well actually, truth be told, it's not THAT rare...but still! Impressive Morgana!"
He walked over to the petite witch, giving her a hand up as he looked over to his other pupil, Scarlett, breathing heavily, her ripe breasts rising ever so softly to her breath. Voroven's mouth watered. He got that, every night. Sights like these often reminded him of why he got into wizardry. Well, plus he had no choice either, being the third son of a third son, he was destined for a magical calling, and the bastards who kidnapped him from his crib made sure of it.
Sophie helped Scarlett up as Voroven spoke, the redhead miffed that her lover didn't lend her a hand. "A delightful display Morgana, but ultimately fruitless. Unless you intend to run a very interesting brothel, I'm afraid all you'll ever get out of sex magic is parlor tricks."
"Told you!" jeered Sophie and Scarlett in unison.
Voroven shot the two a steely glare, his jaw clenching. "Shut up. I know girls will be girls but I won't have any more of this ridiculous infighting, it is most unbecoming! You are witches of the White Sun coven, act as such! As for you Morgana, I forbid any more practice of sex magic. Am I understood?"
"Yes master..." they all said, staring at the ground like scolded children.
"Good!" said the old wizard, a jovial grin lighting up his face as he put his arms behind the girls. "'Tis a beautiful morning, a beautiful day! Today is the day, ladies! You will graduate from wands to scepters, the next step on the path to ultimate arcane power. Your lives will never be the same!"
The four left the grassy hill in good spirits, Voroven not knowing how true his words would prove to be...
***
The three witches knelt outside a looming white tower, their home and their school, Voroven's abode since time immemorial. Birds chirped and flitted from the waving, verdant trees, happy to be alive in the spring weather. An aura of happiness permeated the domain.
Voroven stepped out of the tower, three scepters strapped to his back as he strutted forward, eager to dole them out. He called each witch up separately, giving them a word of encouragement, shaking their hand, and then bequeathing his gift.
Morgana walked up last, eager to claim the final staff. Her scepter was of finely wrought wood, spirals leading to the top with a crystal at the end. The shaft had white roses growing out of it. It was simple and modest, much like its owner.
Voroven looked over Morgana, the front of her dress sown up like a corset, barely hiding the bulging cleavage within. He sighed, wishing she dressed as provocatively as his other students, as he looked over to Scarlett whose deep cleavage bounced sensually, rejoicing in her new gift. He couldn't wait to fondle her when he was done.
"Thank you Master Voroven." said Morgana, her clear voice breaking him out of his daydream.
"Ah yes, no problem my dear!" he grinned, delicately laying the staff in her hands. Her face lit up in joy. Such a simple pleasure. She looked back at him expectantly, anticipating a few words of wisdom.
Voroven put his hand on her shoulder, before taking a deep breath. "Morgana, I must be frank. When you first came here, you were the epitome of unremarkable. I say the epitome because most unremarkable witches remedy their unremarkability by dropping their knickers in lieu of actual talent. But you didn't do that, much to my initial disappointment. You kept on fighting, struggling, powering through rigorous studies. And while you're not the strongest witch, the most intelligent or even the most attractive, you've got something they don't. Heart, lots of heart and the will to drive forward."
Morgana's eyes welled up, ignoring his barbs while soaking in his praise. "Really?"
"Of course!" He patted her on the back, leading her away from the other girls. "Much like your namesake...I think you're destined for greatness! Your spirit is so..." he looked distant, searching for something profound. "Pure. Pure pureness in all its purity." he winced at his own words, relieved that Morgana was idolizing him too much to notice.
"Master and apprentice. How touching." said a woman from the trees. Voroven frowned at the familiar voice. His frown turned into a grimace as the she-devil sauntered out from the woods.
Clad in all black, the voluptuous woman stepped forward. She looked older than most witches, but still extremely attractive. Like most of her kind, she had her enormous cleavage out on display, barely covered by a thin negligee. Her hair was a frosty white, not borne of maturity, but of spellcraft, glowing with sorcerous vitality.
Voroven seethed, his eyes narrowing. "Drusila...."
Drusila curtsied, her milky globes shaking with the movement. "Long time no see Voroven."
"Not nearly long enough. Ladies, this is Drusila, Witch of the..." he stumbled, wracking his brain for answers.
"Our Dark Lady of the Weeping Ruby and Singing Dagger's of the Laughing Ghost Goat coven."
