The warrior girls maintain their pride and show their love, even as whores. Then you go to confront the Count at last.

The scarred, short-haired amazon warrior is now bent over her more slender, tanned life companion and kissing her sideways, slowly playing with Callie's little breasts while the latter fingers between Hawk's legs curiously.

Hawk doesn't seem too terribly concerned about what Cassie's probing fingers feel leaking out of her. It's amusing to you. Most of the courtesans and whores you've witnessed, whether of the witch or mundane variety, become irate or fearful in such situations, and many of those they don't only remain calm because they aren't aware that the methods of protection they're using (being on top, washing up with water after sex, charms and amulets with no actual magic in them, etc.) are ineffective. You've come to take a perverse joy in watching their hysterical reactions, in fact. But now you feel a measure of respect for Hawk for taking it in stride. Perhaps being accustomed to risking **** in battle makes other risks seem less dire by comparison.

The goateed young man is laying back on the bed, watching the two beautiful warrior-women cuddling and fondling one another with satisfaction. "Hey, c'mon. This is your chance. I mean, really. This is probably the only chance you're gonna get to fuck a nice-looking virgin girl. I know I made a little bit of a mess in the one with the battle scars, so I understand you wanting to wait until she's fresh for the evening. But that younger one is fresh, period." He flashes a cruel grin. "If you aren't man enough to give her her due even while your employer is watching," he indicates you in the chair with a lazy sweep of his hand, "I'm never gonna let you hear the end of it."

Callie seems like she's overhearing this. She lightly pushes her more seasoned wife up off of her and turns her knees up, spreading her legs wide and planting her feet on the bed. Hawk lays down next to Callie and snuggles close alongside her, pressing her ample breasts against Callie's shoulder. Both women stare deep into one another's eyes, giving one another caring yet bittersweet smiles. As Hawk begins planting kisses down the neck and onto the breasts of her fellow amazon, the smudge-covered callow youth on the bed with them positions himself in between her knees and grabs her slender legs.

The tanned Amazon with long hair bites back soft moans as his hips slowly grind against her. "Ah... I felt a little pinch, but it's okay. Go slow, please."

"Hah... Hah!" Davin chuckles to himself with an unctuous smirk. "Well done, friend. That's the only way you were ever going to draw blood from one of these tough bitches, huh? More fun than doing it with steel."

Hawk laughs softly. "Oh, I think the clumsy peasant is complimenting us, my dear." She cups her hand over her wife's petite breasts, pinching her nipple and making her waggle her hips. "Come on," Hawk asks. "Tell me how her cunt feels."

That makes Callie gasp and hide her face in her hands. The young blonde soldier slowly moving his manhood in and out of her winces and groans. "It's... It's too.. I think I have to for a second, so smooth..." His hard length, if length is indeed the right word for 5 skinny inches, flops out on top of the tanned girl's stomach. He slides it back and forth over her skin, which seems to be a bit too much for him... A shutter runs through him, his head jerks back, and a sticky white pool spreads over the contours of her trim midsection, pooling in her navel.

Not being trained performers like some of those to be found in your town's brothels, these amateur lovers need some time to recuperate. At first, Callie and Hawk snuggle together in the center of the bed, but when she looks back, Callie seems to see that young Tam is still feeling **** and conflicted about this. Wracked with survivor's guilt over the loss of his friends... those amazon girls are used to these things and not overly rattled that half a dozen of their fellow warrior women had died in the battle. For a peasant playing at mercenary, losing 4 of the perhaps twoscore people he knows must be quite a blow... and then to have gone along with pressure by his friend to go to bed with two of the girls who'd almost killed him.

Callie whispers something softly to Hawk, and the short-haired woman bedecked with battle scars nods. Callie crawls over and hugs the mop-haired young fighter, while Hawk pushes her breasts up against Callie from behind.

Half an hour later you are ready to enter the castle keep and enjoy your hour of glory to the fullest. Marzena, your pretty-faced, raven-haired personal witch, has been bouncing on her heels and shouts insults at you for dawdling so long. Elena the large-bosomed priestess in her tight-fitting robe, habit half-covering her curly flame-red hair, is swinging a burning censer full of aromatic herbs, signaling that this is a peaceful meeting and no ambushes should occur. Of course, to make sure of that, you have Hannah - another particularly bosom woman with brown hair and an innocent, heart-shaped face. She is the most feminine and pliable of your witches... at least on the surface. Under the surface, you know she has treachery buried deep in her heart, so you want to keep an eye on her. Aside from Hannah, you are also bringing Rima, the shapely girl whose hair was worn in poofy pigtails permanently turned an unnatural shade of ice blue.

"Hey, Zoe!" Marzena asks. "Where's Tula? I thought she wasn't wounded, just winded on account of not being used to the weight of proper armor that covers her tits and her legs. Ain't she getting in on the victory fun? After the boring bits of signing everything over, I'm assuming we're going to break out the champagne and maybe do a little, y'know, 'dancing'." She snickers. "With the way you've kept me busy preparing spells and tutoring the other witches for battle I'm ready to cut loose for an evening or three...."

"Tula isn't coming," you say.

"Why not?" your friend looks confused.

"Because," you say, "you used your nightmareism spell to make the enemy count lust after her, to upstage me."

"What?!" Marzena shakes her head in surprise, and Hannah and even Rima stare in shock too. "Who the fuck told you that, Zoe?"

"No one. I assumed." you say sharply. "Because you fear that if I get more power over this domain and become a proper contender for duchess, I'll be able to keep you and the Crooked Tower on a tighter leash. I mean really, Marzena - sacrificing people in the streets? You must realize I'm not going to let you get away with that forever." you pause. "Also, you're a bitch, and you have a very broad interpretation of what is an acceptable practical joke."

"But I swear to the..." Marzena stops. "Okay, the gods probably wouldn't be pleased with the likes of me swearing on them, but it's the truth. Those killings last year had nothing to do with me, and I didn't use my spell on the count! I was saving it for fighting."

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. Tula's not coming. I don't want to give her an excuse to avoid her vassals squabbling over her."

The lot of you set out up the spiral stairway at the nearest corner of the keep. The defeated defenders are on their knees or on their backs with rope around their hands. You trust the Grey Star mercenaries more than your own rabble militia (who are busy running rampant in the town harassing the populace anyway) when it comes to not looting a fancy place like this, so stern pikemen patrol every hallway and watch batches of prisoners.

Each of the keep's 4 floors is divided into a few rooms. You and your entourage ascend all the way to the top - all female except for Taggit, a bespectacled male dwarf (the brother of your treasurer, in fact) who serves as your seneschal and handles boring paperwork. And since he doesn't really count, you are sure that the people of your city will be very gratified to hear that your enemies in Aldergrove were obliged to surrender themselves to a group of pretty young women.

What you see when you open the door to the top floor of the keep, the county's seat of power, makes you smile immediately. At the center of the room is a well-dressed and ravishingly handsome man with well-groomed reddish-blonde hair who you hope is Count Mace. And right by his side is a young woman from the crownlands who you've been wickedly looking forward to catching up to ever since she manipulated you into this mess.