Her family doesn't approve of your methods, she's come to plead her case.

Strolling through the main street of Undrek, you deign to stop and admire a few shops and productive enterprises on your way. Here in your town, most of the skilled jobs (blacksmiths, brewers, alchemists, innkeepers and so on) were taken by women... human women, anyway. The majority of the men and the non-humans were customarily relegated to the lowlier, filthier and less pleasant occupations; porters, tanners, stablehands, and (most dreaded of all) the town foundry where ore was smelted into usable ingots of iron, steel and copper. Always fearful of being replaced by a shambling corpse that didn't feel pain or ask for pay, these poor souls' endless toil had made Undrek a great economic power in the region despite spending so much on food and cloth imported from the more fertile north.

And so, there was always competition for the limited number of slots in the town militia, which paid a bit of extra coin each year in return for the possibility of being called up to defend Undrek. Assembled in the main square were the best 200 of the roughly 700 soldiers that you could mobilize if needed.

They were typically referred to as the "Rabble", and looking at them it was easy to see why. There was no uniform, just a mob in their town clothes with each wearing a pink armband. Approximately half of the crowd were goblins, and the other half were about as shabby-looking as the goblins. No respectable woman wanted her sons or daughters in the militia, so they were made up mostly of the **** and hungry. That was just as well, you figured - more likely that they already knew how to fight from scrabbling and scuffling in the back alleys.

Most of their weaponry consisted of smithing hammers, meat cleavers, hatchets, pitchforks and throwing darts; tools and toys that could be used to fight in a pinch. But despite their humble station, they still adored their countess, and cheered as a crowd when you stepped up onto the raised platform in the center of the town square, flanked by Johari and Aeson. You waved and blew kisses, swishing your long blonde hair back and forth as you made poses for your adoring troops. Half of Captain Aeson's mercenaries were already out on patrol, and now you were going to follow them up with a numerically (if not qualitatively) impressive column of militiamen to go out and have a 'friendly rendezvous' with Count Mace's uninvited soldiers and politely explain to them that the security of travelers was quite well in hand in Undrek and their 'aid' was not required.

Before you can give the order to march out, the commander of the Anshabian caravan wanders up to the platform - a bulky, tan-skinned man with a sharp prominent mustache and stupid, widely-spaced eyes. He walked right up and leaned directly on you, squeezing your thigh with his hand to get your attention. "Lllllady Orban," he purred solicitously to you, "Are you about to march out? You have not forgotten the other half of our bargain, have you?"

Of course your two 'military advisors', if they could be called that, hadn't taken any steps to get in his way. Determined not to be embarrassed by the loutish man's power play, you simply leaned in closer to him and said "Meet me back at my estate - I'll find something to your liking." You give his loose, puffy pants a stroke of your hand, and he backs off, satisfied.

Raising your arm and making a sweeping gesture, you order your militia to march out, and they begin streaming out of the city like the disorganized mob they are. There was a secret to them - even if they were unlikely to win any battles, nobody who knew of the Undrek Rabble wanted to actually fight them, the Rabble made sure to make it a dirty business. All of their blades and darts were smeared with toxins or animal dung. Hidden among their number were some carrying more exotic and even nastier weapons cooked up by alchemists or witches; potions that sublimated into noxious gas, flasks of acid, even the occasional cursed magical dagger that inflicted wounds which could never heal. The general idea in Undrek was that fighting was an intrinsically dishonest profession, so why not use the filthiest tools available to get an edge if it was unavoidable?

You walked back to your estate, feeling quite pleased with yourself. When you walked in to come face to face with a pretty young freckled red-haired girl wearing the shiny blue dress that made her look almost like a princess, you were wearing your smuggest smile. The girl didn't look happy.

"Countess Zoe?" she curtsied politely. You acknowledged her with a nod, and motioned for her to choose any seat that she liked in your lavishly-appointed sitting room. The walls were adorned with tapestries and other fine artworks, and the stuffed couches were especially comfortable - but when the baron's daughter sat down, she sat straight-backed and stiff.

"My name is Irene, of the Barony of Folsom in Vismark..."

"Vismark?" You ask curiously. "You've traveled quite a long way. Good on your father for allowing you to come visit a forward-thinking town like Undrek." Even as you spoke, the Anshabian captain had followed you in and was starting to rub his hand on your shoulder, making Irene visibly uncomfortable.

"Ah, m-m'lady..." Irene said. "I... perhaps we could discuss these matters privately? It involves a childhood friend of mine, Hannah.."

"Ah, yes, Hannah. She's proven an excellent and valuable member of the Crooked Tower. She has a natural charm that attracts men to her." You say serenely, mostly ignoring the stout man fondling your waist and slipping his hand up under the edge of your slitted white-and-gold dress. "You can speak freely here, my dear. This fellow is from another continent, no rumors are going to work their way back from there. As for Johari and Aeson, who'd believe a necromancer or an elf?"

She blinked at you, clearly surprised. The man's hand brushed up against your slit, making you shiver. "One moment, Irene." You turn around and start pulling down Captain Harad's trousers, exposing his long, curved flesh scimitar. Heedless to your audience, you took it in your mouth and started to run your tongue up and down the veiny, turgid length of flesh, giving him suction.

Irene gasped and put her hands over her mouth as you bobbed your head back and forth on Harad's shaft. A couple of times you went so deep that the helmet of his manhood tickled the back of your throat and made you gag messily, spittle coming out from the edges of your lips. With your hands, you reached behind to squeeze his hairy ass-cheeks and sucked as hard as you could - but soon your lips were getting tired and you had to pull off him. Harad chuckled smugly and reached over to cup one of your modest-sized breasts in his hand, giving it a squeeze. "Come on, you have to discuss things with her, don't you? Why don't you let me penetrate you from behind while you do?"

You thought for a moment, looking back and forth between Irene and Harad. "No, I'm afraid not. That is a bit much for you to request from the Countess herself; do not forget your station, foreigner. Besides, I am going to have to deal with a rowdy, scheming neighboring Count very soon, and if I end up having to spend enough time in his bed to worry about becoming pregnant, I want to be sure that any child is passable as his. You are a bit too swarthy, Anshaabian. And don't tell me that you'll pull out - out of the half-dozen men who've made me that promise, only one ever kept it." you say haughtily.

"I hadn't intended to do so," Harad said proudly. "The people of our kingdom are proud and pious, and we do not spill our seed upon the ground, nor on a lady's tongue."

"Hmmm," you say, "Is there anything else of interest I can offer you?"

"Well..." the bulky man says, rubbing his chin with a lecherous grin, "that... exotic girl who delivered my payment..."

"Ah! You mean Brigid!" you say with a sudden smile. "Funny - it's not often that people show an interest in her, which is just as well, as the accounting and bookkeeping keeps her busy. Johari? Go fetch Brigid for the captain."

"What... You're really going to..." Irene says, looking fascinated yet disgusted by your conduct.

A minute later, Johari returned, accompanied by a rather nervous-looking and plump (but still very cute) female dwarf. A mere four feet tall but with very broad shoulders and impressive bustline, the dwarf lass's blonde hair was done into two pigtails and her hands were clasped in front of her, as she looked down with a blush. "I... normally would not consider this part of my duties, but if the Countess feels strongly about it..."

"Ahhh! She is so cute! Yes, I consider this an excellent repayment, Countess." the tan-skinned Anshaabian gives a belly laugh as he hefts her up into his arms and starts kissing her noisily. You couldn't help but give an evil smile as you decided not to warn Brigid that this foreigner objected to cumming anywhere but inside her. New girls working the 'hospitality' industries of Undrek often believed that non-humans couldn't get them pregnant (or, if non-human, that humans couldn't), a major contributing factor in Undrek's infamously muddy bloodlines.

Brigid squealed with seldom-awakened arousal as her hefty mountains were squeezed and tickled, and the man hefted her up onto a table and lifted up her skirt. There was sometimes a rumor that lady dwarves had beards, or at least needed to shave; although they didn't on their faces, anyone who got intimate enough with them discovered that this rumor referred to their custom of never even lightly trimming their pubic hair. It seemed like Harad not only didn't mind, but reveled in it, as he shoved his face up between her legs and started making her sigh and moan lustily within minutes, keeping his saliva-slicked shaft hard with one free hand.

"Lady Orban!!" Irene practically shouted at you, interrupting your viewing pleasure. "I really feel this is not necessary for me to watch! Is your intent to **** me to leave? I shall not, until you hear my pleas and acknowledge what I have to say about the ways you encourage the **** of innocent ladies in this county!"

"This is new," you say to her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "Coming to the only county in Itheria where inheritance goes to daughters rather than sons and every field of endeavor is open to ladies with the talent for them? None of my free subjects are **** to do anything."

Trying to ignore Harad, who was now teasing the head of his hard shaft along the dwarf lass's entrance, Irene balled her fists angrily. "One of my dearest friends, Hannah, is now being used as a sex **** and you tell me such a thing?" You open your mouth to retort but she rudely cuts you off. "Yes! I am aware that she is guilty of witchcraft, and I do not contest the justice of her being sentenced to imprisonment! But how can you allow a sweet young girl like that, or the other women of the Crooked Tower for that matter, to be used like livestock by any man who passes through this town?"

"She is really beautiful, though. It seems only proper that she make a living on her back. That which she earns goes to support and expand the Crooked Tower -"

"Yes," Irene hisses, "My father heard from the Count of Luxem that you plan to expand your... enterprise and bring every imprisoned female magician in the kingdom here so that you can callously sell their virtue. I have come to humbly ask that you reconsider your policies, and cease demanding that the witches who dwell here - and any other woman - be **** to give up their virtue to anyone of sufficient rank or wealth."

You give a sharp, mocking laugh. "Oh dear - planning to become a priestess, are you Irene? What funny ideas you have. Sadly, you come from a land where young ladies like yourself are little more than ornaments and commodities to be kept locked up in chastity belts until they are ready to be married off to some wrinkly old ghoul and displayed like a trophy on his mantelpiece."

"How can you believe that you are doing good for the women under your rule?!" Irene asks, mortified. "Do you not know that many great and prominent positions are held by ladies of noble birth in the capital, as well? The King's spymaster, his court mage, his closest advisors and allies - all are female. But the ladies of the capital are not **** to spread their legs on command!"

"Are they not? Are you so sure of that? Hmph - I wonder how long you would maintain your 'virtue' if a Duke or King started making eyes at you." you snark.

Irene folds her arms and remains impassive though. In the silence, you hear an especially shrill squeal from little blonde Brigid as the foreign captain starts shamelessly plowing her in front of everyone, feeling her breasts wobble in his hands as he penetrates her. Soon he's going fast enough that you can hear his pelvis slapping against her round ass. Casually, you lean down to enjoy the sight of his tan balls bouncing up against her hairy slit. Indulging yourself (and squicking Irene out), you reach over to fondle both their genitals as he fucks Brigid hard. "Ahhh~! Countess, please don't...." she gasps.

Tapping her foot and telegraphing her intent not to leave until you either give her some concession or have her thrown out, Irene stands there, still staring daggers at you. You have a couple of ways you can help deal with this headstrong young prude. Firstly you could go have a 'chat' with this Hannah friend of hers and coach her on what to say to diffuse Irene's anger. After all, Hannah had never formally requested a sabbatical wherein she wouldn't have to have sex with anyone - Marzena usually approved such requests unless they stretched on too long.

On the other hand... your eyes flicked back to the handsome blonde Captain Aeson, who was watching all of this with an amused, fey smirk. With the 'nightmareism' powers that your new subject Flora was capable of, you could make Irene lust for him... shit, even without magic he could probably get under her skirt in less than a day of flirting. Elves were charming and seductive by nature. You were sure that Aeson would enjoy being assigned such a 'mission', and it would give you something to **** Irene with. Oh, ****... was there anything it COULDN'T do?