The Queen of War

You're walking now up the northern avenue towards the palace of the Queen of War, a beautiful girl's breast in either hand. Daisy is on your left, tittering girlishly as you cradle her left boob, and Ibi is on your right, quietly tolerating you playing with her right boob.

This part of the city is clearly where much of the military conducts their exercises. You pass by a battalion of gorgeous ebony warriors clad in their blood-red battle skirts and their brass breastplates, all of whom seem to know Ibi. A few of them snicker to see their naked comrade.

"Don't laugh," you say. "It could happen to any and all of you."

A leggy number quickly forgets her retort when you give her skirt a little tweak. She grabs her butt and goes on guard, backing away from you slowly.

"A lot of very nice hakundas here," you say. "Would be a shame if they got stamped."

"Don't listen to him," says a shapely warrior with tight cornrows. "There's nothing that one man could do against--"

"Boo," you say.

Just like that, the women are tripping over each other to run away, each one guarding her butt with both hands. You manage to tweak a couple of cheeks, eliciting the cutest EEK's before they scatter to the wind. You even rip the shapely girl's skirt clean off her body for good measure, letting her flee with her substantial round ass wobbling about in a polka-dot pair of panties.

"I really like this city," you say. "Anyway, tell me about the Queen of War."

"She's the mightiest woman in the city," says Ibi, "with the biggest hakunda."

"Oh, my."

"A full honor guard of her best warriors is tasked with guarding this hakunda day and night. It's a high-value target, as you can understand."

"You'd better believe I understand. And these are girl guards?"

"Women guards, yes."

"Fun!"