As the knights crested the hill above Camelot, they all realized something was amiss. They were gathering for the autumn tournament, and yet there were no viewing stands built for the joust, nor the sword, nor the horse races. Rather, only a simple circle of pennants had been placed within the sacred field.

The knights and maidens were ushered into the Great Hall, where they waited impatiently. Food and game were scarce in the Kingdom, so they were not even provided basic refreshment. At last, King Arthur and Merlin joined them.

“My loyal knights, my maidens, my friends,” Arthur began. “Camelot is threatened. As you all know, we have faced drought, pestilence, and blight these last two seasons. Merlin has consulted the stars and has an answer to our need. It will require a contribution from each of you. We will have a very different tournament this autumn, one which will test you in whole new ways. Make do with what few provisions we have, and meet on the sacred ground when the sun is centered over the henge circle.”

At noon the following day, the knights and maidens returned as instructed, hungry and confused as they were. The King took the knights aside, while Queen Guinevere gathered the maidens. Arthur seemed especially nervous. He cleared his throat and struggled to find his words. “What I’m going to ask is a great sacrifice … A knight’s honor is all he has… Loyalty is everything, but loyalty to whom, and about what, is complicated,” he rambled.

The King’s directionless speech was suddenly interrupted by a mix of gasps and shrieks from the ladies from across the field. The confusion of the knights now turned to concern, and they stared at Arthur with irritation. The King gathered himself.

“Merlin has determined that turning our fate back to prosperity requires sowing our sacred field with the seed of our most worthy knight,” Arthur explained. There were looks of confusion, but the knights straightened with heroic iron.

“I believe I am the most worthy,” the handsome Lancelot said, as he stepped forward. “If my blood is to be spilled, so be it.”

“I have respect and regard for my great friend, Lancelot,” countered Perceval, “But I believe it is my blood which should seed our sacred ground.”

Merlin suppressed a smile. “May I?” Merlin asked the King, who eagerly granted Merlin the floor. “My princes, the worthy knight will not spill blood. He will spill his actual seed.” When the knights still appeared to struggle, Merlin nodded toward their groins. Groans and words of anger rumbled from the knights. The King raised his hands to quiet them.

Tristan pulled his sword from its scabbard and knelt in front of the King. “How shall we prove our worthiness?” He asked. Merlin’s smile returned.

A few moments later, all the knights were in a circle, with the maidens forming an inner circle between them and Merlin, who stood on a pentagram carved into the sod in the center. Despite Merlin’s position, however, it was Queen Guinevere who directed the group. With a few utterances and waves, she caused a nervous group of knights and maidens to follow her every move. Silk pillows were brought and laid at the feet of each knight. The Queen then untied Galahad’s gold-trimmed, green sash and used it to blindfold him. Each maiden then turned to the knight closest to themselves and repeated the act.

The Queen led the maidens in a promenade. She nodded toward the jester, who played a simple tune on his lute. The maidens circled once, twice, three times. On the fourth turn, the jester’s tune ended abruptly and Guinevere held up her hand for the maidens to stop. She turned toward the knight to her right. It was Lancelot. She looked toward Arthur, sighed, and knelt upon the silk pillow. The other maidens did as she did.

Guinevere raised Lancelot’s skirt and, without hesitation, took his stiff member into her mouth. There were gasps all around, which Arthur silenced with the clang of his sword against a henge. Lady Bertilak was the next, as she too exposed and mouthed Gawain. The rest of the maidens followed suit, some more eagerly than others. Isolde with Galahad, Elaine with Tristan, Morgan with Yvain, and so on.

Most of the knights proved the unworthiness of their seed quickly. In little more than seconds, Perceval groaned as if in pain, and issued onto the Lady of Lake’s lace gown. Soon after, Agravain shuddered and expelled directly into Ygraine’s mouth. In little time, only Lancelot and Gawain were left standing.

For Lady Bertilak, this was hardly her first time. She was also not a fool. The Lady knew that the Queen would prefer that Lancelot be declared the most worthy. Being in the Queen’s favor would be helpful, even if Merlin’s latest trick failed. Lady Bertilak put all her talents and experience to work, and maiden and knight alike received an immediate education in the finer arts of oral sodomy.

She pushed Gawain’s foreskin back to expose the head, which she bathed in her slowly swirling tongue. At the same time, she pumped Gawain’s thick shaft. Gawain groaned and felt his balls load. To prove his worthiness, as Merlin had explained, he had to retain his issue. Lady Bertilak was making that enormously difficult. Meanwhile, Guinevere was barely touching Lancelot.

Somewhat surprised that her erotic ministrations had not yet yielded the usual explosive result, Lady Bertilak doubled her efforts. While not as huge as her headless lover, the Green Night, Gawain’s appendage was still quite large. Nevertheless, the Lady forced herself onto Gawain’s entire length, until her lips were pressed against his prodigious sac, and her face was pressed into his thick thatch of dark hair. Gawain looked to the sky and uttered a whispered prayer as he struggled to hold his seed.

His resistance seemed to anger Lady Bertilak. She pulled violently on Gawain’s ball sac as she took his glans in and out of her throat.

Gak, gak, gak… the sound of his cock entering and leaving the Lady’s throat was nearly enough to provoke an explosion from Gawain, let alone the feeling. Hearing a slight groan from Lancelot, despite Guinevere’s timid suckling, caused Lady Bertilak to worry that her efforts would be for not. She opted for one last ploy that had always worked in the past. She pulled her lips from Gawain’s staff with a gasp, long enough to wet two fingers with the copious saliva dripping from her mouth and chin.

“Aaah!” Gawain nearly screamed as Lady Bertilak shoved her slick fingers into his arsehole. She curved them firmly, pressing against something deep and wonderful within him. At the same time, this Lady with more skill than a Norman whore, stroked his shaft and sucked hard on his bulbous head. His knees buckled with the sensations over-taking him. He accepted that he would imminently fail.

At this moment, Lancelot, who had been bucking involuntarily into the soft mouth that weakly sucked him, peaked through a slight space that had emerged at the bottom of his blindfold. It was Guinevere! The most comely woman in Camelot. Despite his fealty to Arthur, his unbridled affection and lust for the beautiful Queen had occupied his waking and sleeping moments for months. And now she was before him, giving her mouth to him. The reaction was immediate.

“Grrrrrrrrrr!” Lancelot groaned as he released his many months of adoration into the mouth and throat of his sovereign. The Queen choked on the healthy issue and her eyes watered. No one among the Round Table would realize it, but as she savored the young knight’s brine, she also added to the wet seepage which had been gathering between her legs since she had first knelt before him.

“And we have him!” Merlin shouted with excitement. “Gawain is our most worthy knight! Release him! Release him Lady Bertilak! Let him seed our sacred ground!”

Lady Bertilak did indeed release Gawain’s head, but she continued to spike his arse, and stroke his large sausage, even taking his hairy sac into her mouth. Now free to issue, Gawain found the dam he had been forced to build was hard to break. Somehow he felt his insides, his balls, and his prick swell to an even greater level. He stopped breathing. His heart stopped. His vision narrowed into a black-and-white tunnel.

“Ooooooooohhhhh!!!” Gawain moaned as if he had been stuck with a pike. An arc of musky seed shot from his organ like the fastest arrow, flying three feet over Lady Bertilak and onto the edge of the pentagram. Four more giant spurts followed. Lady Bertilak, unable to resist, gathered the dollops from Gawain’s final spasms into her mouth.

At that very moment, a huge stag appeared at the edge of the wood. Hares sped across the field in wracks of three or four at a time. Apples appeared on the once-barren trees. Chestnuts fell from the great trees like rain. Wilted wheat rose and swayed in the Welsh breeze. And Lady Bertilak, and Queen Guinevere, licked their lips.