She's wearing armour

The figure on the throne was not dressed in the way that Riolta might have expected. For one thing, it was garbed from head to toe in armour. The Widow Duchess was clad in a stunning suit of armour that was customised from a configuration of fine chainmail and plate that accentuated her demonstrably female assets. Fine greaves encircled her shins and curved plates hugged her thighs as she sat on the throne. Her breastplate was fashioned and decorated in a way that replicated a set of perfect abdominal muscles before sweeping out at her chest, the curving metal obviously being made to allow for a humongous pair of tits. Nothing could be seen of her face as a visor was pulled down, covered by a decoration of a face with striking, archetypal female features. The whole suit of armour was very nearly skintight, cleaving to the figure?s obvious physical perfection, designed to ease movement but still offer complete protection.

?I hope you will forgive our rather severe appearance, when we heard that one among the diplomats from Tharros was to be a certain Riolta Snow we decided to take the necessary precautions.?

The voice was soft and deep, incredibly husky and oozing sexuality, whether it was being magnified by the visor or not.

?Your Sluttishness,? said Riolta, bowing low. ?I assure you that you have nothing to fear from me.?

?You are known, Riolta, I am told, primarily for your near-supernatural skill with missile weapons. At first I wondered why Dacca would attempt to spring such an obvious **** attempt. But there is another sense in which you reputation precedes you, Riolta.?

?Your Sluttishness does me too much honour to know me at all,? said Riolta humbly.

?Don?t be modest, Riolta. Is it not the case that you are one of the most voracious and talented sluts in your kingdom? In fact the more I am told of your escapades the more I think that it is for this very quality that you should be renown. And hardly for your skill with bows at all.?

?That?s kind, your Sluttishness.?

?But as the ruler of a province I must ask myself: is it mere coincidence that such a carnally talented diplomat is also, just as a matter of chance, also a perfectly honed instrument of ****??

The armoured stateswoman let the question hang. Unless the Widow Duchesses? armour was enchanted in some way, Riolta reflected, and she had every reason to suppose it was, she would have been able to send an arrow piercing through the breastplate from a good five-hundred yards and wouldn?t even have to have bothered with this tiresome meet-and-greet business.

?And you, Mage,? said the Widow-Duchess, addressing Raya, ?I?m given to understand that your magical talents stretch much further than the little party-piece you?re casting now, that of shielding the minds of your entourage from being read??

Raya looked a little shocked that the Widow Duchess was able to detect the mindshield she had been casting, but Riolta was also surprised, and chastened herself for even thinking idle thoughts about how easy it would be to take the widow duchess out. From now on she resolved to think only sexually impure things.

?Our minds, your Sluttishness, are our own,? said Raya, ?but it is our hope that you will seek to know what they contain by the sampling of our bodies, which we commend to you.?

The Widow Duchess nodded. ?An agreeable speech. Korvac.?

At this signal, the middle-aged man at the foot of the dais spoke to the four emissaries from Tharros.

?Please for give the formality of our welcome,? he said, bowing once. ?The last delegation from Tharros were possibly a little shocked at what passes for entertainment under this humble roof. In Qir there is no business without pleasure. But if we?re sorry to have offended the previous delegates, we are equally happy that it has brought you four here to be with us. We did not wish to compromise the negotiations once more with displays of wantonness which might upset you, a mistake we feel was all to evident in the last round of talks.?

Riolta spoke, knowing she should turn her head to the Widow Duchess but unable to tear her gaze from Korvac?s bulging cock. It was clear that Korvac was apologising for souring the previous negotiations with a show of filth and debauchery, and the reception which Riolta and company had received had been scaled back so as to make for a more conciliatory welcome. She, however, was keen to impress on the Widow Duchess that she was here for the debauchery itself, and planned to give as good as she got.

?Let me say that the honourable Widow Duchess may welcome us in whatever manner she sees fit. Let me also say that the sight of thirty horsedicked hunks all in a line is without doubt the most pleasant greeting that I have ever experienced anywhere. And let me assure the Widow Duchess that if it would aid the smooth negotiation of the trade treaty for me to get on my knees and suck my way down this most appetising, meaty line of dickmeat, one after the other, until I got all the way to Korvac himself, then I?d be only too happy to.?

Riolta allowed herself a slight smile, as, at the end of the speech, she noticed out of the corner of her eye a number of the elite guards to which she was referring begin to shift their weight. Glancing at them, she saw with pride how at least a dozen loincloths began to stir as what must have been, collectively, pints of blood beginning to stiffen into inch upon inch of engorged flesh. After a few seconds, over half of the male guards were sporting massively tumescent erections, the huge lengths protruding out obscenely from their groins in ways they were powerless to prevent. Riolta saw with satisfaction how each of them was battling to keep their eyes looking forwards, and could glimpse sweat standing out on their brows.

?That?s the first time,? said the Widow Duchess, ?that my soldiers have saluted someone other than myself.?

[Contains writer's notes]