The Warrior Queen

Word of the war party spurs Eleanor to action, bringing up the vanguard of your escort. She instructs you and the Hand to remain behind, intending to ride out herself to meet them, and, against your better judgment, you tell her no and lead beside her.

She hates this, of course. You can see from the dismayed look on her face and the way she bites her lip anxiously that taking Prince Studley into battle was not high on her to-do list, and she starts to protest before you draw you sword and order the command to move out. Her words and body language says she's hates this... But the way her thighs grip the saddle and she grinds her crotch against the seat tells you something else.

You'll deal with that later. Maybe when you deal with the half chub you develop in your pants.

You trot for a little while at first, new brain telling you that you need to separate yourself from the rest of your cadre if you are to do battle, leaving Lady Jane behind to bring up the rear guard...

(... Huh huh, rear guard. You're gonna have to check out her rear guard later...)

...and meet you after the battle.

You rode the horses as hard as you could without completely exhausting them before battle, and it wasn't long, certainly not the couple of hours your reconascaince team predicted, before you came across the Sexling host.

You stopped, your sword tight in your hand, surveying your foe...

...which was an army of hobbits, more or less.

Of course these hobbits looked pretty pissed off and were barely dressed, sporting war paints and loin clothes that barely hid the males's boners. Females had tits exposed and nippke piercings that were as huge as they were exotic. They had clubs and spears and shields and uh... "spears", massive hard ons bobbing before them as they grinned and made a line along the road, blocking your path. There were at least three of them for each of your soldiers.

Some of your own female warriors looked nervous. Well, save for Eleanor.

Your Marshal was busy giving commands, positioning mounted warriors around you on either side, her own sword being used as a pointer while your people formed up, ready for a fight.

"Behind the lines, your majesty. I'll lead this charge.". She says as she positions herself next to you. The Sexlings were hooting, preparing to charge. One of the women picked up one of her tits and was sucking it and looking at you.

Your pants got tight. Dammit, you shouldn't have liked seeing something like that right before the same hobbit-girl was going to try to kill you.

"I uh... No.". You said, sitting up a little straighter in the saddle. "Nope, uh uh. I'll lead the charge."

Eleanor smiled and put a hand on your shoulder.

"Then I'll be at your side."

She turned, ready to bellow the order...

And suddenly the sound of thundering hooves filled the air. Not your own, or that of your detail, but another unit entirely as it came over a short hill to the left of the enemy line and barreled into the Sexlings. Their lines, if they had any lines, shattered immediately, and in that moment Eleanor slapped your back and called 'now!', so you surged forward with your soldiers behind you...

:::::::::::

When the carnage was over you were glad to see that casualties on your side and that of your unexpected ally were slim. Many of the Sexlings were gone or dead, and those that survived were suddenly, distinctly without the massive erecrions they'd pointed at you earlier, their flaccid little weiner a now dangling feably beneath loincloths that were obviously misfit on purpose.

Eleanor, on the other hand, was leading one of the Sexling females across the battlefield in chains, her hands manacled together.

"A prisoner, your majesty." Eleanor said, holding tight to the chain as she drew her horse up next to yours. This Sexling girl wasn't familiar to you; she was furs, breaches, and leather boots, her hair braided, a leather belt around her waist, ornate gaunlets on her wrists. A wad of cloth was stuffed in her mouth, but her face was red with rage. You could imagine that your new friend here had a lot to say if the rag wasn't there. Eleanor handed you a beautiful double bitted axe with an ornately carved steel head. "This is Yoksha, Warlord of the Manichian Sexlings."

Your eyes went wide and you nodded, grinning.

"Well hello!" You called down from your steed. You started to extend a hand for a shake but... This woman was so short and you were so high up and she was shackled... You withdrew your hand and blushed. "Seems we've kind of got you over a barrel. Uh, so to say."

You could hear another rider coming up. You turned to find Jane approaching your position, her horse well ahead of the rest of the rear guard.

"Well done your majesty!" She said, grinning, one tit threatening to erupt from the unbutton part of her shirt. She smiled wider as she fixed it and caught you staring.

"I uh... I had good help.". You say. There's a moment where it dawns on you that you've gone abroad with an enemy army that you just recently conquered and they let you lead them...but you try not to think about that. You watch as Jane's eyes widen, first at the sight of Yoksha, and then at the sight of 160 lbs or lithe, polished steel coming your way. The figure, a woman if you had to judge by the curves in the armor, the breasts of the cuirass, the color of the regalia, was flanked by a number of guards who looked at you with something like disdain.

Your worldly brain told you this would be Queen Tilantra of Orrel.

"That was good work out there." A feminine voice says as it reverberates through the enclosed steel helm. It sounds like she's talking into a cup. She pulls her hands free of gauntlets and reaches up, unclasping the leather straps that keep the helm connected to the top of the cuirass.

Queen Tilantra is a fucking babe. You shift in your saddle to keep that massive dick of yours from giving you away and wonder briefly if that thing is ever going to behave itself. Then you wonder why you care. Then you wonder if you should stop thinking about your dick and pay attention to the Dark skinned, curly haired diva smiling at you. Her hair is short, only down to her shoulders, but what it lacks in length it makes up for in beautiful, curled volume. A gold nose ring adorns one nostril, and her chocolate eyes are as deep as the darkest ocean and twice as pretty.

"Thanks." You say, trying to keep your shit together. "Queen Tilantra, I presume."

"I am. And you must be... Prince Magnus, newest conqueror of Tirel. Am I right?"

"That you are, your majesty." You say, straightening. It's good to be recognized.

"And you're coming to parly with me about your farmlands, I take it?" Her smile is as magnificent as her eyes, pearly white teeth a contrast to her lovely complexion. "I'll be blunt, Prince Magnus. Orrel is on hard times. We can't give up farmlands to a foreign country just because that country is on hard times itself. Conquest isn't a charity, after all."

This rings in your ears.

"You're right." You say, your voice flat and matter of fact.

"I know." She quips. "My kingdom is on the verge of economic collapse..."

(Boy she was sharing some things...)

"...and I am looking for an ally, a mutual partnership that may turn things around for my people. We have been running ragged fighting these assholes..."

Now she pointed at Yorksha, who didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. She just looked inconvenienced and angry, if anything.

" Do you know how many Sexling babies have been born in Orrel? To my people? We can barely afford to feed them all!"

Yorksha grinned around the rag in her mouth. That pleased her.

"I'd be happy to negotiate a partnership, your majesty." You reply, still looking at Yorksha. Lady Jane pulled her horse up along side you then, reaching out to grip your arm. You look at her, and she's looking at all the gathered Sexling prisoners that Eleanor and her soldiers were rounding up.

"I believe we can fix your Sexling problem too, your highness." Jane said, biting her lip...