Medea's Happy Fun Times

Summary: In which Medea of Colchis is forever grateful to her Master for giving her time to take care of herself, and providing the scenery to set the mood. Truly, the Chaldea Resort is the best.

To say that Medea was happy was a bit of an understatement. She was not one for being overly joyous or overly grim and liked to think of herself as a cool, calm and collected individual most of the time. Of course, that wasn't to say the odd emotional rollercoaster didn't affect her every once in a while, but she didn't like thinking about the times when she lost her marbles.

Lest she remember breaking Rulebreaker, a noble phantasm, on Jason's face when in Okeanos. Granted, Jason had probably been through something way more harrowing minutes before, as he'd been part of the Demon God Pillar that her master had confronted... but she didn't care how much it hurt him, it was all about her own self satisfaction as she stabbed the person she hated the most in the face with the symbol of her temporary madness.

She also realized that she qualified for the Berserker class, and mused about what it'd be like to not think at all.

Still, getting free time after all the constant, non-stop fighting that was trying to rectify history after the King of Magic blew it up was a rare thing. Needless to say, most everyone was enjoying the break that Dr. Roman had granted them. Also wondering why they didn't do it very often - far as she knew, Chaldea existed outside of time at this point and as such, they weren't exactly pressed for time when it came to fixing the singularities.

Medea sighed to herself, she was getting too into what she had come to define as her current day job when she should be focusing on her holidays at the deserted island turned resort by the will of their master. Truly a fearsome individual, that. Despite being trash as a magus at best and having no special talents that could be immediately perceived, their shared master had managed to get both herself and her younger form to converse in a civil manner and even reach an, albeit uneasy, truce. Well, mostly from her side - the younger Medea was still a naive and stupid child who hadn't yet had to deal with being as completely betrayed as the older one was.

She had even been provided a swimsuit so she too could play in the beach with the others. Well, provided a swimsuit or being essentially forced with the threat of a command seal to put it on, it was a minor difference. Everyone was wearing swimsuits in the resort, the Master enforced the dress code. She was already thankful for the eyefuls she had gotten of hunks of delicious man meat, so it didn't make her feel too bad for wearing a tiny bikini that she was sure wasn't functional in the least. Taking a moment to relax, Medea gazed out the window of the cabin she'd been provided to use as a workshop, which overlooked one of the white sand beaches, and when she did, she witnessed something mighty interesting, indeed.

If there was a more disfunctional pair than herself and her younger form, it was the one she was staring at. Father and Son, King Arthur and Sir Mordred, the King of Knights and the Knight of Betrayal... But of course, that wasn't the most surprising thing. After all, it was not uncommon to see them working together on bringing down a strong foe, even if ensuring their seamless cooperation required help from the Master to constantly get them to focus on the task instead of each other.

What was most surprising was the fact that they were both smiling and, in fact, playing in the water. Seeing them not glare at each other was uncommon, seeing them fighting (even if 'fighting' meant Mordred trying to challenge her father to a fight and Artoria ignoring her) was the norm... well, one could say they were fighting. If a splashfight counted, anyway.

Artoria appeared to have gotten a squirtgun and was using it to shower Mordred, who retaliated by using a Prana Burst assisted slap on the water that caused a large-ish wave to counter her father's attacks.

Medea began to feel a little bit hot, blinking as she felt the heat rush to her cheeks and her nether regions. She knew exactly what she was looking at, she looked exactly at where the pure white bikini bottom clung to the modest curve of Artoria's backside and the small dip it made as it clung onto the sking of her buttcheeks, showing the slightest hint of what her buttcrack would look like without them. The modest bikini, despite how much it covered, arguably made her look even better than if she were naked, Medea mused, as it hid just enough to give her an air of innocence.

An air of innocence that Medea herself would have loved to corrupt, to drag her into filth, debauchery and depravity. Oh, she could already see the poor girl in chains, perhaps even in a white dress- but she shook her head and slapped her cheeks, she wasn't going to do that.

That was what Artoria's own younger self was for, as the Knight Princess tickled every one of Medea's bully bones.

For now, though, she had something else to look at, something that she didn't usually pay all that much attention to, the King of Knight's son Mordred. From what she could gleam from overheard conversations and the like, Mordred was a homunculus clone of King Arthur, identical in almost all ways. And Medea could see that their bodies were, indeed, identical. Their fashion sense, however, was not, as Mordred's bikini was... the opposite of modest.

The red two piece was what Medea could only describe as desperate for attention, with a tiny triangle of fabric that displayed the fact that Mordred was hairless in the crotch area and another that covered the space just above her buttcrack, but neither of her buttcheeks.

Buttcheeks that Medea longed to pinch as they moved in powerful motions, helping her run away from the King that was using her squirt gun to pepper her with blasts of cold water.

Medea's breath began to come shorter, one of her hands, previously brought up to her chin as she gasped in surprise, began to slide down her body until it cupped her right breast. Before she realized it, she was already massaging the orb of her own flesh, kneading it through the swimsuit and forcing a gasp out of her as she pinched her nipple, which was very proudly standing at attention, easily showing through the thin layer of her swimsuit.

Mordred stopped suddenly, causing the father who was chasing her, running on top of the water, Medea realized, to crash into her, unable to stop in time, sending them both tumbling into the water, a tangle of limbs and the hair that came loose from Mordred's messy ponytail and Artoria's immaculate bun.

Medea gasped as she stuck the pointer of her left hand into her mouth, giving it a few tentative licks before slobbering it thoroughly, adding her middle finger and beginning to pump them in and out of her mouth at a steady rate, as Parent and Child began to struggle to untangle from each other.

When they finally managed to break the tangle of limbs, Mordred was on all fours, on top of her father, looking down on her as her hair came around them like a curtain. Medea knew it was only her improved eyesight as a servant that allowed her to see Artoria through the wet strands of Mordred's hair. For her own part, Artoria's hair was splashed in the water beneath her. For a moment, she thanked the very gods she hated for the fact that those two were not very magically inclined, as one of her familiars approached the pair and laid down on the nearby grass.

Its eyesight and hearing capabilities were increased tremendously, there was nothing about this that Medea wanted to miss, and when she surrendered her senses to let those of her familiar take precedence, she got a much closer look at what was going on.

Artoria was breathing hard, prompting Medea to believe they had been playing for quite a while already. Mordred was giving her father a large, victorious grin for a moment before opening her mouth. However, before she could say anything, Artoria's legs moved up and grabbed onto Mordred's waist. In a move reminiscent of a wrestler, she used her legs to fling Mordred away, planting her hands on the water as she did, sending her straight up.

Mordred gave a shriek of combined surprise, terror and what Medea thought was exhilaration as she flew into the air before coming down into Artoria's arms, as the King pinned down her rebellious knight, reversing the prior situation, although Artoria made sure to lock her son's legs with her own.

Medea licked her lips as she began to slide her wet fingers down her front, leaving an almost slimy trail of saliva down her middle. Soon, she was sneaking her left hand under the elastic band of her bikini, sliding it down the length of her slit, drawing a small moan out of herself, as she observed Artoria's crotch, the slight cameltoe marked in the wet white bottom, press into Mordred's, whose cameltoe was much more readily apparent.

The witch herself longed to be in the middle of that sandwich. Truly, she hadn't paid attention to the son before, but her body was just as alluring as her father's, and there was an innocence about her that wasn't present in Artoria, parts of her mindset that were childlike in comparison to the rest.

Medea realized that she would have to wash her swimsuit as she had gushed cunt juice all over it, but at the moment, she didn't care. With a swift and slick motion, she forcefully stuffed her fingers up her own pussy, feeling her own walls clench around the invaders. She moaned, but knew instantly that it wasn't enough stimulation. Employing the projection that modern magi frequently saw as useless, she fashioned an object that she knew relatively well, a big, fat purple phallus.

Much different from the smaller prick that she recalled Jason having, as a form of vindictive satisfaction, covered in small bumps and slickened by lubricant fluid. She grabbed it with the hand that was playing with her breast a moment before and used the one covered in her cunt juice to move her bikini bottoms aside, revealing her gushing pussy, which was pulsing as it begged for something to quench its desire.

With no more preamble, Medea placed the head of the phallus against her cunt and slowly pushed it in, moaning like a wanton whore as it spread first her cuntlips and soon her walls, almost tearing into her as she pushed it in. It was slightly painful, but the sting made the pleasure that much more vibrant, causing stars to dance across her vision for a moment.

She took a deep breath as soon as it seemed to go all the way into her, leaving slightly less than a third of the purple phallus outside. With a blush and a goofy smile of contentment, Medea opened her mind's eye again to witness Father and Son.

Father and Son that had once more gotten into wrestling with each other, it appeared, as the two were grappling. Soon enough, however, Medea realized that her luck continued to rise, for Mordred miscalculated her father's reflexes and when she went to grab at Artoria's back to pull her into the water, she instead caught onto her bikini top, pulling with such strength that she tore it apart in her hands.

Medea orgasmed immediately, gushing cunt juice all over the dildo that she had yet to begin to move, thanking herself for silencing her cabin to outside observers with a bounded field. She was certain people would've come to investigate why she was screaming and would've found her in a compromising position, as she covered the ground in her cunt juice after the screaming orgasm that a blushing Artoria trying to cover her tiny breasts brought out of her.

Far from done, however, Medea used her magic to activate a function of her purple dildo, as it wondrously began to move on its own, beginning to pump in and out of her pussy first at a calm, relaxed rate but steadily picking up on speed, occasionally twisting, rotating on its own axis or going slightly deeper and vibrating. Every thrust and movement brought a little more cunt juice out of Medea, who drooled all over her own chest as she began to use both of her hands to knead her breasts and play with her own nipples.

Artoria, seemingly offended at her apologetic son, went for another attack, jumping at her son with her hands spread as if to attack her bikini top, only for Mordred to dodge out of the way, resulting in Artoria landing almost on her face in the water. However, she had her butt up, giving Medea a perfect sight of it, covered with a bikini that did nothing to hide the blonde's pussy lips as it clung to her skin.

Medea orgasmed once more, imagining her own tongue sneaking into those folds, slurping up the delicious pussy juice of the King of Knights, bringing her to her own screaming orgasm, while the Son watched from nearby, plunging the very same purple dildo currently in Medea's cunt inside her own.

One of Medea's hands moved from her breast to where the dildo was pumping into her cunt and gathered some of the cunt juice that was splashing all over her crotch, lathering each finger and the palm, before she moved it behind herself and moved her bikini aside to slide one of her fingers into her butthole, the vaginal fluid lubricating it as it slowly pushed in. Deciding that it wasn't enough, Medea pulled back and shoved two fingers at once, moaning loudly.

It still wasn't enough, she figured, and as such, she repeated her earlier spell - which was significantly more difficult as she did it through an orgasm - to create another purple dildo, this time slightly slimmer. She positioned it on top of her butthole and let the magic do the rest as it pushed inside. It began pumping back and forth, matching and coordinating with the one in her pussy.

Meanwhile, Mordred seemed apologetic enough over tearing her father's swimsuit, so she took her own off to offer it to her, Medea mused, she had been too preoccupied to hear the conversation. At least, Artoria was now wearing the red bikini top her son had been sporting moments before, while Mordred stood topless like it didn't bother her at all.

Medea gasped as father and son got closer to each other, with Artoria chastising Mordred for her lack of decency while Mordred observed how her swimsuit fit her father. It seemed to annoy Mordred, who told her father that to a Knight in a fight, shame was a liability. Artoria agreed, but pointed out that it wasn't a fight, and while she could and would fight nude if she had to, that didn't mean that it was something they should choose to do if given other options.

Apparently, that wasn't the right thing to tell Mordred, who took it as a challenge, grabbing at her bikini bottoms and swiflty removing them. The stunned Artoria could do nothing but observe as her and Morgan's son threw her bottoms on top of her, claiming there was nothing to be ashamed about, after all it was just them.

Of course, Artoria didn't take it sitting down and went to lecture Mordred even further, but the Knight of Betrayal apparently was on a nudist kick, for she told her father that she should get naked too, pointing out that it felt incredibly liberating and admitting that she was thinking of surfing nude to see how the ocean wind felt on her skin.

Medea would have brought up the fact that her bikini already let her feel the oceanic winds on her skin, but she was too busy orgasming as she projected a third dildo. This third dildo was softer than the others, where the other two were hard and yielded little, this one was designed to be closer to a real large penis, and would bend with relative ease. It was made to be used for her throat, after all. Medea's lips opened and she took in the purple dildo, which quickly went past her mouth and into her throat. Medea was far from a deepthroating master, but she was no sloch at blowjobs, and it showed as she began to swallow the purple dildo like a pro, as it began to pump into her like the other two she had.

Her hands were now busy mauling her breasts or pulling or pinching at her nipples, violently, as she brought herself to orgasm after orgasm.

Father and Son weren't done turning her on, however, as Mordred essentially forced her embarrassed father through a series of quick and dirty movements to discard her bikini, leaving both of them naked as the day they were born. Mordred had even gone as far as tearing both their swimsuits to pieces to ensure Artoria wouldn't put one on.

Naturally, this caused her father to lose much of her composure and she attacked Mordred, grappling her around. After a minute of struggling on both parts, Medea was shocked to see that Artoria had managed to pull Mordred over her lap, the two identical girls looking odd in the position they found themselves in.

When Mordred almost fearfully asked what her father was doing, said father admitted that it was time she started acting like a parent should when their children are misbehaving. Medea knew that Artoria had worked out a lot of her issues about parenthood, it wasn't like the arguments that the King of Knights and their shared master had were ever super loud, it was more like Medea's room was very close to Artoria's and so she often overheard their master telling Artoria that much as Mordred's conception was unorthodox, she should still at least make an effort to not hold it against her.

Artoria had always claimed that she didn't, but given how frequently she ignored the child starved for her father's affection... well, if the King of Knights wanted to understand humanity, parenthood was a good step towards that goal.

Still, Medea wondered what was going on for all of two seconds until she realized.

And she exploded into another screaming orgasm as Artoria's hand came down on Mordred's white bottom, leaving a bright red handprint and drawing a pained and surprised yelp from the Knight of Betrayal. If she didn't have a large dildo in her mouth, Medea would've screamed "spank that naughty girl, yes, spank her hard!" at the sight.

Of course, one wasn't enough, even as Mordred shouted protests, and soon Artoria's hand was coming down again, leaving another bright red hand print on Mordred's other buttcheek. Moments later, it struck again, and again, and again. Mordred continued to scream in protest and shame as she was disciplined like a very young child.

However, Medea noticed something else. Something that Artoria, likely, hadn't realized.

It was hard to see at first, because they were still on the water, but Medea's familiar had good eyes and Medea was incredibly horny, a good combination to realize that every time Artoria's hand landed on Mordred's butt, Mordred's cunt gushed with her love juice. Medea's eyes nearly rolled back as she imagined Artoria in black leather, smacking a riding crop against Mordred's butt, who tried to wiggle out of her predicament while screaming around a ballgag.

After thirty slaps to her now thoroughly reddened bottom, Mordred began to sob, clearly holding back her feelings, as Artoria began to slow down and strike more gently, something Medea could tell was unconscious. After a few minutes and fifty slaps, Mordred's tears began to flow freely, and Artoria seemed to notice, only landing ten more slaps to Mordred's bottom before finally ceasing.

By this point, Mordred was crying and sobbing, saying how sorry she was that she destroyed their swimsuits. Medea would have smiled as Artoria seemed to finally realize what it was like to have a child love you unconditionally, a child who wanted nothing more than to call her father's attention to her, who would go through extreme lengths just to get her father to look at her... but Medea was currently swallowing down the fake jizz of the dildo she had projected. It tasted like cream.

Artoria took Mordred by the shoulders and sat her gingerly over her lap, making sure to keep her red bottom in the air so as to not cause her further pain, and rubbing soothing circles in her back as Mordred cried onto her father's shoulder.

After no less than a minute of her crying, Mordred's tears finally dried up, and she asked her father if said father hated her because she was such a stupid child. Artoria told her that she never hated Mordred, but she didn't know love, either, and could not love her as a father should love her son, but she was willing to learn how to be a father to Mordred if she would have her.

Mordred, in tears, admitted that she could never have a relationship of father and son with her, that train had long since sailed, but if she was willing to give it a chance, they could at least love each other in a different way.

Blushing, Artoria admitted her own feelings for her son were not to such an extent, but Mordred explained that it didn't matter, so long as Artoria gave her any affection, Mordred would love her unconditionally for it, admitting that there was another in her heart as well. But their hearts ached for each other, Mordred insisted, and as such she offered it to Artoria, if only for one day.

Medea's cunt exploded in another shower of juice as father and son's lips met in a loving kiss, shared in a loving embrace, and she passed out with a blissful smile in her face.

Meanwhile, down by the beach, Artoria drank a glass of lemonade from a tray that the red Archer who insisted he was nameless brought for her, absent mindedly observing how Mordred was trying to get their shared master to get on a surfboard with her. She glanced up to see a flash of purple hair flopping about in the cabin she knew belonged to Medea, before it shook, clearly the result of a magical experiment going haywire.

"Wonder what that was all about," she said, grabbing onto a piece of watermelon.

The speedo-wearing Archer seemed amused for some reason, and it kinda bothered her.