==Chapter 6, Disciplining the Knight of Treachery (Futanari, Yuri, Rape, Incest)==

Important Characters:
Mordred: https://fategrandorder.fandom.com/wiki/Mordred
Artoria Alter: https://fategrandorder.fandom.com/wiki/Artoria_Pendragon_(Alter)

Mordred stomped into her room, failing to slam the sliding door behind her as the automated mechanism gracefully closed itself. Mordred leaned back against the door, slowly sliding down it until she was sitting on the floor. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down and order her thoughts a little in this small pocket of space that she could call her own.

What had Mordred riled up now was the same thing that had in life; her father, King Arthur. Like herself and dozens of other heroes King Arthur had been summoned to Chaldea. Having to work alongside her father would have been bad enough for Mordred, but the king's summoning had also brought with it several revelations about their life that had shook Mordred to her core. Foremost among them was the fact that King Arthur had been a woman. In life she had kept this secret, masquerading as an ageless boy king and going by the masculine form of her given name Artoria. Here at Chaldea though she lived openly as a woman. She wore dresses, went by her given name, and did all sorts of other things that stirred confusion in Mordred. In life Mordred had sought to succeed the king, living as a boy herself, unknowingly following in her father's footsteps as she sought to overthrow her. She had never really thought of herself as a woman, though neither as particularly not a women either, gender had never been a concept she particularly concerned herself with. Her thoughts had been filled with single minded admiration for her father, and when those had failed they had been replaced with aspirations of destroying her. But now her thoughts were all a jumble. Here at Chaldea one's gender was not a limiting factor, forcing Mordred to confront the idea for the first time. Matters were further complicated however. More than one servant bearing the face and name of her father had been summoned. There was one that wore the armor and had the bearing that Mordred remembered from life, but there were several more. There was one that acted innocently, a pale one whose glance sent a shiver down Mordred's spine, a genuinely male one from another reality. There was even one that wore a modern woman's bathing suit, gallivanting around showing off her lithe body and brandishing a water pistol. That wasn't even a fully exhaustive list, and Mordred was left sitting on the floor of her room failing to recontextualize her thoughts about herself and the king.

Mordred's contemplation was interrupted when she suddenly fell flat on her back as the sliding door was opened. She opened her eyes and found herself looking up beneath a skirt at a pair of black side-tie panties that bulged slightly at the front. Mordred stared for a moment, her mind failing to process what had happened as it struggled to change gears.

"You never were much of a knight Sir Mordred, but I thought even you had the capacity to properly greet your king." said the intruder, voice dripping with contempt.

Mordred gracelessly flopped around, scrabbling backwards on all fours until the back of her head smacked on the corner of her bed. The strike seemed to dislodge the stuck gears, and after a vigorous shake of her head she finally got a good look at the intruder.

Standing in the doorway was her father. It wasn't just any incarnation of the king though, this was the pale one, the one who had bathed in the corrupting influence of a tainted grail and embraced evil. She wore a short black dress, which alongside her long gloves and stockings created a stark contrast with her unnaturally pale skin. Mordred quailed as she looked at her father's face, pale yellow eyes staring scornfully down at her.

"What do you want, Ch-Chichiue?!" Mordred shouted, her wavering voice betraying her fake bravado.

Artoria Alter ignored the question, stepping into the room and sliding the door closed behind her. She approached Mordred, stopping a few paces away, her expression never wavering. She stood there for a long moment before beginning to speak.

"That unenlightened version of me, you know she still blames herself for the downfall of Britain? She believes that it was her failings, that if she had simply been a better king that the Round Table wouldn't have broken and the country wouldn't have been ravaged by war and fallen to the Saxons. To me that seems like the absolute height of arrogance, to try to take all the blame for herself, to act as if her actions alone dictated the fate of Britain. She doesn't spare a single thought to blame you, Sir Mordred, Knight of Treachery. Not a thought to blame the defected knight that led the enemy forces and dealt her her fatal blow. It was you who broke the Table, Sir Mordred, you who let your ambition destroy Britain. She is too proud, too self-absorbed to lay the blame where it truly lies." Artoria said, her words sharp with a calm rage.

"I on the other hand know where the fault lies. Britain is hundreds of years gone, its corpse now puppeted by the descendants of those you allowed to kill it. We are only echos of the past and nothing I can do will accomplish anything save perhaps satisfying my own desire for vengeance." A grim predatory smile spread across Artoria's face. "I suppose that will have to do." Artoria continued.

Artoria reached beneath her skirt, and with a couple tugs her panties drifted to the ground. With one hand she lifted the front of her skirt, and with the other she slowly jerked off the half hard cock between her legs. Mordred gawked at the incongruous organ, her brain seizing up even further as she failed to wrap her head around this new development.

"You seem quite enamored. I had Merlin use his magic again, though he took some convincing. What more appropriate tool to punish the Knight of Treachery than the one that created her? The very tool from which my sister stole the seed she used to grow you in her treacherous womb?"

Artoria begun to approach Mordred, a predatory gleam in her eye. Belatedly, it occurred to Mordred that she was probably in danger. She stuck out her hand and began to materialize her sword, Clarent. Though Mordred had started to materialize her weapon first Artoria was ready and reacted faster. Excalibur sliced effortlessly through Mordred's forearm. The half materialized Clarent fell to the ground and faded back into golden dust, followed shortly afterward by the hand that had held it. The pain finally cut though the cloud of confusion blurring Mordred's thoughts, her instinct for battle roaring to life. In an instant she had sprung to her feet, a feral grin on her face as she leaped at Artoria, her remaining hand balled into a fist heading straight toward her father's face. Unfortunately for Mordred Artoria hadn't been caught off guard by the quick turn around in attitude. She effortlessly sidestepped the attack, and in the same motion swung Excalibur to sever Mordred's remaining arm at the bicep. Artoria seized her disarmed opponent by the neck, violently throwing her onto the bed. She leaped after her, pinned her down with a knee on her chest, and then pinned her more permanently by driving Excalibur through her shoulder until it was stuck fast in the wooden frame.

Mordred gritted her teeth at the pain, but the adrenaline and years of battle experience kept her focused. She opened her mouth, to say what she didn't know, but was cut off by Artoria grabbing her throat. Artoria lifted her knee from Mordred's chest, using it to force the obstinate girl's thighs apart before violently tearing away Mordred's loincloth. She lined herself up, and with one thrust the woman who had fathered Mordred sunk her dick into her rebellious daughter's surprisingly moist virginal pussy.

Artoria squeezed Mordred's neck hard as she began to slowly thrust in and out, letting the furious girl breathe just enough to not pass out. After a minute or so Artoria's pale face became visibly tinged, her breathing ever so slightly labored, and her thrusts began to gain speed.

"You never were fit to be king, Mordred, but you may have made a serviceable concubine. You're cunt is certainly pleasant enough to please a king, though your manner is lacking and any offspring would certainly suffer from having you as a mother." Artoria spat out between thrusts.

Mordred deliriously looked up at her father, her heart filling with despair tinged with an elation that just made the despair sting all the harder. Most of her life had been spent trying to earn the king's recognition, to fill her with pride and to be named her heir. When that had failed and the king had rejected her she had lashed out, determined to destroy all that the king held dear. Here they were, hundreds of years past their deaths and the fall of the kingdom they had fought over. Artoria's words were cruel, obviously meant to wound, but behind the backhanded compliments was a hint of genuine recognition. A recognition of a part of Mordred that she had up to now paid no heed. The king recognized her value as a fuck hole, as a tool for pleasure and maybe even possibly breeding. In her delirium something snapped in Mordred's heart. She felt her father's dick pounding in and out of her and she was filled with joy. She could be of use to the king! She would happily be her concubine, her whore, her slave, even a target for her arrows or a pincushion for her swords! She would do anything if it meant earning even fraction of the recognition that she had so long chased. The pleasure built to a head in Mordred's oxygen deprived brain, a strangled cry passing through her lips as she shuddered and lamely slapped her redacted limbs on the bed.

Artoria continued to roughly rape Mordred, an unfiltered stream of abuse and backhanded compliments of the sharpest variety slipping through her lips the entire time. Mordred came several more times underneath the assault of stimuli, her reactions becoming less powerful with each orgasm as the blood loss and oxygen deprivation compounded within her. With a grunt Artoria bottomed out, holding herself all the way in as Mordred's soft folds hungrily milked out Artoria's semen into her womb.

Artoria collapsed onto Mordred where she lay for several seconds until she had collected herself. She then rose from the bed, looking down with disdain at the body of the girl who had ruined everything she had lived for. Mordred was still breathing shallowly but did not react to Artoria, her vacant eyes staring out at nothing, her tongue lolling from her mouth.

Artoria's dick had regained its vigor after only a moment and the woman knew just how she should finish off her revenge. She pulled Excalibur from Mordred's shoulder and let it dematerialize. She grabbed a fistful of Mordred's hair, dragging her to the edge of the edge of the bed until her head hung off the side. She was pretty sure the girl was too mind broken to fight back at this point, but just as a precaution she violently brought her knee to Mordred's face, breaking her jaw and eliminating any possible risk of bites. Mordred barely reacted to this, a slight whine the only indication that she even noticed it happening. Artoria lined herself up, preparing to thrust the entire length of her dick down Mordred's throat. Mordred's eyes lit up slightly as her father's phallus came into her view. Her broken jaw flopped lamely and her tongue lolled out as she struggled to reach her tongue to the object of her execution.

Artoria sunk her entire length into the girl's gaping mouth, Mordred's throat visibly distending as her airway was plugged. Artoria began to thrust, slowly at first but constantly building up speed until she was thrusting with wild abandon. She made no allowance for Mordred to breath, ignoring the girl's limp struggles until they ceased entirely. After a few more minutes Artoria was close to release when she suddenly noticed Mordred's limbs glowing gold and beginning to face. She rapidly accelerated, determined to finish while she still could. Artoria's body tensed, and she threw back her head as she released her seed into the corpse's throat. She had finished not a moment too soon, not even half a second after the last rope of cum had spurted from Artoria's cock Mordred's corpse disappeared, leaving Artoria to collapse on the bed to catch her breath.

After a couple minutes Artoria gathered herself, rising from the bed, collecting and adorning her undergarment, and fixing her disheveled clothes. As she left the now vacant room she felt an immense satisfaction with her revenge. Though, she thought, should the opportunity present itself again she was sure it would be even more cathartic to work out more frustration on her traitorous spawn.