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Wet Cherry of Truth	By : uztre Category: +S through Z > Witcher 3: Wild Hunt Views: 96308 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own or claim ownership of or make any profit of any of the characters or other elements of The Witcher 3 contained within the story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
Summary:
Menge, commander of the Witch Hunters, gets whiff of Yennefer's location and attends the party too. The game of cat-and-mouse officially begins. Hurray!
Tags: No sex, nobility, economy, prostitution, incest, magic
Notes:
- Spell-checked on June 16, 2018
Three heavy knocks on the door jolted Caleb Menge awake, as he got out of the king-size bed to put on his trousers and give his two broken prison sluts a heavy spank on their uplift asses. One of them belonged to blond and blue-eyed beauty called Margarita Laux-Antille. It was said that not even the marble likenesses of goddesses chiseled out by the greatest sculptors could rival her figure. After the last months of endless gang rapes and humiliation, 'Absolutely true.' Menge admitted wickedly.

The same went for the other well-rounded butt nearby which belonged to the black-haired Sheala de Tancarville, who, now more than ever, became the total nympho she always used and wished to be deep inside her twisted heart Menge was convinced of. Silenced by a gag ball between their lips, both former sorceresses were tied to the bed rail, with their wrists and ankles chained by dimeritium fetters. Their upper bodies were tilted forwards and legs flexed and parted. Even though their knees and shins were touching the piss, sweat and cum-stained mattress, the entire submissive posture the women were forced to adopt all night long was extremely uncomfortable and painful.

They couldn't make even the slightest movement. To endure the rough pussy stretching and anal ravishment over and over again, both women used their hands to engulf the taut dimeritium chains to handle somehow the brutal impacts of their rapist's hard pelvis against their soft butt cheeks. Menge loved how his sorceress fucktoys screamed and their faces contorted in pain mixed with sweet tears and gaping eyes. He adored every moment if one of them recovered her senses again and realized that she was going to get ravished and drugged to the eyeballs with fisstech again. Their honest despair and begging for mercy were the things that clinched it for him, turned Menge on like nothing else.

And it was his right to do such cruel things to them, those inferior cunts and subhuman beings. The commander bore an unswerving belief that the human race was standing above any other, be it the so-called dryads, dwarves, elves, gnomes, halflings, bobolaks, or even worse the magically gifted mutants including witchers and mages. Especially the female members of these species arouse his hatred, the so-called sorceresses who actually dared to corrupt the human way of life by beating the idea of feminism and women's equality into the people's mind, by attempting to take over the thrones and forcing mankind to bend its will to them.

But there was one thing those treacherous bitches hadn't reckoned with: King Radovid's grim determination and the Church of the Fire's reckless dedication to protecting its fold from any damage. The Eternal Fire believed in the undying flame as a symbol of survival and a guide through the darkness. It was a harbinger of progress and better days to come. Therefore, it was the Witch Hunters' holy duty to help the common folk to purge itself of those impure beings or subjugate them. The future was human. There was no room for other species and retarded cunts.

An evil smirk crossed the commander's scarred face. "Yes, what, what?!"

A well-equipped witch hunter opened the heavy dungeon door and stepped in. "commander, we got her. Yennefer of Vengerberg, we finally got her."

"Good. Bring her to me. Vilgord's ship must have finally arrived here. I wanna see him too, sergeant."

"Um..." The bald-headed hunter's face blushed. "We haven't captured her yet. But we know where we can find her, commander."

Menge gave off annoying sigh. The incompetence of his subordinates was a big problem. Yet he planned to compensate that handicap by their superior number and ardent zeal. A group of witch hunters wasn't a real threat to any sorceress or subhuman, but an entire army certainly was.

"The ship hasn't arrived yet, commander. But we got a trustworthy tip, however, that the stupid wench is already here and going to attend to the special event at the auction house tonight as a member of the zerrikanian delegation and General Azol's personal slave... She is right under our nose, Sir."

Menge mulled over for a moment. "Who was the message-bearer? I wanna talk to him in private."

"Um... he was just a little boy. Delivered this sheet of paper here and scuttled off again," the sergeant explained nervously and handed over the slip of paper. "I already checked the verification code. It's up to date and valid."

"Origin?"

"Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. And..."

"What? Spit it out, Moreelse!"

"The code, commander. It's actually containing a clearance level of ten. The highest possible-"

"I know that idiot. As commander of the Witch Hunters, I'm the only hunter who's sharing this level of clearance with four most high-ranking spectres," Menge uttered irately. Over the last months, he tried to convince the Hierarch to strip these spectres of their clearance or at least subordinate their privileges to his, but the holy divine always refused. A strange behavior. Menge was sure that those spectres - two men, an elven woman and a dwarf - must know things of utmost political importance the Hierarch didn't want to get abroad. A typical situation of 'hiding skeleton in the closet'.

"Then I'll mobilize the men and await your order to raid the place, Sir."

"No!" Menge tossed in and put on a clean shirt. "We can't do that. The Queen, the Hierarch, and the peers will participate there. If the information is wrong, we would run into real trouble if we just simply raid the entire place. Did you check whether there is a valid slave contract existent and made out in the name of Yennefer of Vengerberg?"

"No... Sir?"

A wicked smile crossed Menge's face. "Let's assume there is one and this little whore really became a zerrikanian slave, then I must say bravo! She must be really desperate if she has gone this far."

"Commander?" The sergeant looked confused.

"If this sorceresses hussy were only a member of the delegation, we would be simply able to bust her as the treacherous cunt she is. As a magically verified slave though, we can't just ignore the secret pact between Redania and Zerrikania and put her under arrest. That would be a diplomatic disaster, a declaration of war... No, we have to proceed differently this time. Adopt our strategy to these new terms," the commander said thoughtfully. "Act smarter than she does."

"How? I mean, we should maybe wait for Captain Vilgord's ship to be sure and then-"

"No no no, she is there. I feel it. And Vilgord is most probably dead, his body already discarded somewhere at sea... Someone is protecting that bitch. Someone from the military intelligence service. The idea of becoming a slave couldn't be hers. No, this bitch gets instructed in the background."

"It doesn't matter. We have about one hundred and fifty men in Oxenfurt and five hundred reserve combatants outside the city awaiting your order, commander. One word of you and there will be here in fifteen minutes. She can't flee. Not anymore."

Menge didn't reply, just licked his lips and looked to his sleeping sorceress sex slaves whose faces were slightly dangling in the fresh breeze slipping through the barred window. Their hands were still stretched along the dimeritium chains while drools of saliva trickled down their lips. A delicious sight. He craved for the moment when the black-haired whore was shackled to his bed next to the others and her tiny, fresh fuckholes were begging him to get destroyed as brutal as possible.

"Order all forces back into town, but also tell them to position themselves at least thirty feet away from the auction house. Neither the peers nor the delegation should become suspicious in any way. Keep your distance."

"Yes, Sir!" The sergeant answered instantly and stood at attention. "But shouldn't we at least inform the Royal Secret Service about the situation? The Queen and the Hierarch could be in danger."

"Very unlikely. This way we would only increase the possibility of the miscarriage of our plan. No, it's not necessary," Menge explained coldly. "You have already set up the dimeritium blocks all around the city, right?"

"Two days ago, yes. Oxenfurt and its proximity are 'de-magicalized'. She won't be able to teleport herself out or use her magic in any way. She's trapped here... But commander, there's one thing I don't understand. Why does she even participates in this exclusive event tonight? I mean, why hasn't she simply left Oxenfurt already if she knows that we can't arrest her? Why take such a risk by spending more time than necessary here? It doesn't make sense at all."

The sergeant's line of thinking and questions surprised Menge. "Yeah Moreelse, it really looks that way. But her stupid behavior is actually logical. Firstly, the General is already invited to the party and can't leave the city. As his property, she has to obey and accompany him to suffice the diplomatic protocol. Otherwise, the General would violate the etiquette and bring shame on his clan. Secondly and most importantly, you have to know that the political immunity only works if a slave stays close to the Master protecting her. If she, however, and let's say for some inexplicable reasons, leaves her owner more or less freely and then disappears from the scene without a trace, a diplomatic incident would be averted of course. No plaintiff, no accusations."

Now a big, wicked smile crossed Moreelse's face.

"You will inform the highest ranking officer about the current situation. Coordinate their actions and make sure everyone keeps still while I'm trying to lure her here to the Deireadh prison. And tell them if they fuck this up like yesterday with fucking Triss Merigold, they will burn at the stake instead of some impure freaks," Menge ordered, eyes blazing in dead seriousness.

"Understood, commander."

"And make sure that those little worthless fuck cows here get some food and drink, and then throw them into the kennel. The war dogs deserve some bitches to play with," the commander hissed and startled the totally broken sorceresses up and out of their dreams as he flogged their reddened butts once with his belt and enjoyed their miserable wailing to the fullest.

"Let's fucking do this..."
"Ah, I see you changed your mind, commander," Menge heard a husky and familiar voice, turned around after he just made a step inside the auction house. The party was already in full swing filled with extravagantly dressed people of the highest aristocracy and military ranks. To not attract attention, he clothed himself adequately by wearing the newest uniform of the Witch Hunters which was a combination of white shirt, dark leather trousers, knee-high boots and spiky coat.

"Your Holiness," Menge bowed low to Hierarch Cyrus Engelkind Hemmelfart, who was wearing a simple black monk's cowl elaborately decorated with red and yellow patterns of fire. "What should I say. I've always been known as the greatest party animal on the continent."

Cyrus chuckled. "You are many things, Caleb, but certainly not a social type of man. Tell me, what are the lovely sorceresses in Deireadh prison doing so?"

"Despite begging for more and harsher punishment, nothing. They're only corrupted creatures with tainted hearts. Even countless corporal punishments and severe re-education measures haven't accomplished to cure them of their endless depravity. Even worse, they actually seem to love being abused and treated as inferior subhuman beings. It's disgusting, I know."

"If someone can knock some sense into those depraved beings, then you are my good friend. I don't know anyone who has such a pure soul and nature like you do and cope with this kind of a strength-sapping task," Hemmelfart uttered in full honesty. "The Holy Fire is strong with you, my son."

"Thank you, Your Holiness," the bald-headed commander bowed respectfully.

"Now keep up your good work and enjoy the party, Caleb," the Hierarch grinned and walked away.

"I sure will, Sir," Menge muttered to himself and mingled with the crowd. The entire auction house was brimful of peers of several nations and ranks starting with barons and counts through to dukes and archdukes, their female counterparts. They were wearing the finest dresses and clothes, jewelry and makeup, smiling affectedly while cracking jokes about the others, the unprivileged, the common folk. And although the war wasn't going so very well for the Northern Kingdoms right now, the moral seemed to be splendid.

This hypocrisy turned Menge's stomach as much as their two-faced game and double standards.

If it was up to him, he would have clapped them all into a little cage full of nekkers and watched with appreciation how they all squeaked like pigs as the monsters raped and then ate them. For Menge, the nobility was bearing big part of the blame for the current situation and its development over the past centuries. Its doing was as corruptive and unnatural as the one of the Lodge of sorceresses. In contrast to those miserable cunts, however, the peers always somehow achieved to cover their tracks and hide their depraved felonies from the law enforcement, from him.

But there was a famous saying, 'What goes around, comes around', and the peerage couldn't escape its fate anymore, reaping the fruit of its own misconduct and stupidity.

And why did Menge know this?

A year ago, the commander commissioned a detailed investigation with the objective to find magic-tainted relatives within the noble families' pedigree, so he could put them all at stakes and burn them back to hell where they came from. To achieved this goal, the investigation should have surveyed following information: history and progression of every noble family in Redania and former Northern Kingdoms since the beginning of the royal lineages in relation to the economic development, family relations, and criminality.

Since he had full access to the closed University of Oxenfurt and every library in Redania, it was quite easy to obtain the data and gather the information. To have quicker and better results, Menge employed a group of twenty-two captive mages by holding out the prospect of releasing them again.

When he had his findings of five hundred pages, he burned the mages anyway, of course.

The results revealed, however, more than Menge preferred, and pointed up significant correlations between the factors of impoverishment, criminal conduct, prostitution, inbreeding and title devaluation within the noble society. Menge couldn't believe his eyes when finished reading the full report and its conclusion which was based on five core statements.

History. Facts proved that at the beginning of the early years of Dezmod and Sambuk's reigns five hundred years ago, nobles primarily provided work, land, and protection to the peasants while providing funding, supplies, and military service to the king. Ninety-eight percent of all large companies in the sectors of shipbuilding, transportation, wholesaling, real estate trading, banking, gold, and textile trade were owned by noble families.

The same was true for agricultural lands of which ninety-five percent were in the possession of the peerage. Only five percent was kept as royal farmland. The crop was fairly distributed and called 'tithe'. One-third of the harvest was provided to the Church and Temples, another third kept by the noble landlords and the last third given to the peasants and citizens.

In short, everything went well for the noble families and the people. Every party benefited in equal measure. The peerage of the Northern Kingdoms was healthy, religious and financially strong.

What happened? What changed?

Over the last five hundred years, the splitting of the nations and wars between them misled the peers into taking fateful decisions. Quickly, their numbers increased eightfold while their private expenses reached giddy heights. In theory, it wasn't possible of course that noble families went bankrupt or felt the pinch of hunger since they always got their legitimate share of the crops and their privileges protected them from actual poverty, but there was a catch too.

No money meant no necessary political investments. No investments meant no influence on politics. No influence on politics meant no chances of advancement. No chances of advancement meant no marriage alliances. No marriage alliances meant no sustainable guarantee of keeping the noble status.

Menge remembered how surprised he was to see facts and records proving this hypothesis. Over the last years, many wealthy peers used their dear-bought influence and power to revoke countless 'poor' families' nobility status. In the majority of cases, the accusing side argued that in events of the war, every noble family must be able to provide the latest soldiers and knights for the royal army and own excessive savings to support their king's campaigns. Warfare and the Crown's interests had priority. Conversely, this meant that a baron etcetera, who couldn't fulfill his primary duties because he was starving of funds, didn't earn the title at all and had to clear the way for others who could.

All these things had dire and momentous consequences lasting up to this late day.

To avoid any faint suspicion of financial problems, every noble family began to affect to be wealthy whether it was the case or not. They mainly spent money on their own property, lands, and military. The number of feasts, wine and food consumption per house tripled, expenditure on luxury goods, like perfume, spice, jewelry, and clothing tailored from imported textiles such as silks or fine woolens, increased five-fold. Simultaneously, taxes and tariffs on essential goods, timber and firewood sky-rocketed. The access to education, specific commerce sectors and simple medicine became restricted. Protection for the people in the villages and rural areas was reduced to a minimum.

These measures, however, caused famines, more poverty, heavy loss of the nobility's reputation and a chain of reactions which led to what the situation was today, and to the second statement of the investigation.

Crime. All these negative effects on people's daily lives became a breeding ground for criminal organizations, grand larceny, banditry, smuggling, slavery, narcotrafficking, gambling, and prostitution. Fanned additionally by the population growth and interracial problems, the organized crime slowly but easily spread all over the continent and subverted the nation's economy. Especially in large cities like Novigrad and capital cities, powerful syndicates began to take shape and control over great parts of the businesses. Today and according to the findings of the investigation, more than eighty percent of all larger companies of Northern Kingdoms directly or indirectly belonged to syndicates and their families.

The first time when Menge read that, he thought it must be definitively wrong. The reason traced back to the fact that those companies were invariably protected by the royal and feudal law which conceded special privileges to the nobility. Without possessing a noble rank, someone couldn't buy in these companies with cash or acquire the majority of its shares. It was simply not possible.

So how ended up those companies in the hands of the mob anyhow?

The correct answer was an irony of fate.

To circumvent the royal law, criminal organizations started making use of the peers' profligate lifestyle and ever-growing financial problems. They observed perfectly how the nagging fear to get accused of having not enough money drove them nuts and the peerage became used to live on credit and beyond its means in consequence. This circumstance had gotten much worse with the beginning of the first nilfgaardian war ten years ago.

Seeing their chance coming, many well funded criminal organizations extended their businesses and began to deal in credits and lend money to naive noble families. Disguised as financial support to the 'hardworking nobility', peers accepted funds without necessary due diligence and over the last centuries their level of debt increased by five hundred percent. The peerage unwittingly turned into an institution for money laundry based on drugs, prostitution, and smuggling.

As more and nobler families couldn't square their debts anymore by contracting new ones, the families of the syndicates left them two options for a debt cut. Either they sold their property and lands or married off one of their daughters to them. In the early days, the vast majority of noble houses chose the first option, of course. A top-down marriage was seen as morally reprehensible and taboo. The numbers of the Church and register offices proved such development.

Later, however, when the income of the male family members didn't suffice to redeem the debts and keep up the semblance of prosperity, many houses came forward to accept the second option and let their daughters become married to criminals. And this way, criminal syndicates finally started to buy into the large companies on the continent and made the monopoly position of the peerage vanish steadily. Today, at least the half of the noble family members of the Northern Kingdoms were actually near relatives of people with known criminal backgrounds.

In order to be on the safe side, the report made also clear that this path of handling the situation was mainly available for the nobility of the higher class such as dukes and counts, peers who were in possession of many estates and properties, those whose daughters were luscious and fertile. The reality, however, was quite different for the noble families of the mid and lower class, which was reasoned in the next statement of the report.

Prostitution. In contrast to 'them above', many barons and viscounts who belonged to the lower peerage were forced to work their debts off, increasingly engaged in pushing drugs to people of the same kind. There was even hard evidence which showed that the lords' sons joined the gangs, helped to collect protection money and participated in the business of woman trafficking and pimping. Those who refused to agree to do these things got threatened with disinheritance and had to leave the family.

If the income didn't suffice to make a living, those nobles weren't the same two options granted by criminal organizations. More often than not, baronesses, viscountesses and their daughters had found themselves compelled to prostitute and put themselves in the hands of exploitative pimps who were often business partners of their criminal creditors. Since all harlots needed to register and held valid employment papers to pursue this kind of a profession, every noblewoman naturally rejected to do that. It was just too humiliating and none of them wanted someone else to know about their difficult financial situation. It was supposed to be a secret, for appearances' sake.

Pimps, on the other side, hadn't any problem with that at all, of course. They just let those noblewomen work like ordinary street whores but deducted a 'small' risk premium from their earnings. Since other prostitute's net earnings ranged between five and twenty crowns per client, those of noble ones were reduced to a range of fifty coppers and one crown. The working conditions were beneath contempt, but the female peers accepted them.

They had no other choice, needed the money.

So it happened what people would say was the impossible. All of a sudden, the arrogant and decadent baronesses and viscountesses were level with mothers and daughters of homeless and peasant origin, getting used, plowed, treated and addressed the same humiliating way; whores, cunts, and bitches.

This type of business practice ran like a common thread through the entire aristocracy. Those who could afford it tried to turn tricks in more private areas such as upper-class brothels and closed circles, or in their own house and marriage bed as independent hookers and escorts. Baroness Maria Louisa La Valette, for instance, made a name for herself with secretly turning her own villa in the upper district of Novigrad into a high-class brothel.

According to red light sources, people gossiped the beautiful Baroness would only hire daughters of noble families and provide them with a secure environment where they were able to hook and offer their services to private clients. It was also said that the Baroness would be quite picky and pay less than average. In addition, the regular customers would be mostly coming from Nilfgaard and treating the noble girls pretty bad. There was even talk of sexual and economic exploitation, but this didn't affect the long waiting list or slump the demand for work at all.

If Menge didn't know it better, he would have guessed that the Baroness La Valette actually became one of the wealthiest noblewoman and madam of Novigrad. Only the madam of the high-class brothel called Pretty Witch in the sewers was said to be richer, but Menge didn't know what her name was since Novigrad's sewer system was a no-go and legal gray area.

Now did these facts mean the peerage was completely defeated today? That they hadn't been trying to struggle against the criminal organizations' hostile invasions?

The investigation revealed other dark facts about the nobility in the next statement.

Incest. As families of the nobility became aware of their awkward situation, they began trying to protect their precious bloodline and social status by the only way they thought it was actually possible; marriages between parents and their children, between siblings, between cousins and distant relatives. The report differentiated both terms, incest, and marriage, and explained to them further.

Since the first day of King Sambuk's and Dezmod's regency, marriages between cousins and distant relatives were permitted by law and gotten very common in the entire continent. It was seen as a legitimate way to maintain power within the family itself and to keep the bloodline pure. Many noble families, especially those of royal origin, had made use of this practice and become related. Sex between such individuals was NOT considered incest and therefore NOT problematic.

Matters were quite different when it came to marriages between parents and their children, and among siblings, such as father-daughter, mother-son, and brother-sister relations. All three forms were strictly forbidden and condemned as unholy and unnatural. This was true regardless of whether children were already mature or not. Sex between an adult family member and a child was considered incest and a form of child sexual abuse, which was a capital offense.

In the past, marriage and incest were clearly separated terms with different institutional scopes.

Marriage was a socially or ritually recognized union of a man and woman.

Incest was a crime. Period.

However, the report included information from public and secret libraries of the Church and register offices as well. Step by step, it was pointed out that the strict marriage laws were amended by the peerage. Initially, the marriage between brother and sister was legalized. Yet sex between them remained incest and therefore forbidden. Later, the peerage exercised its influence and narrowed down the penal act of incest to a sexual intercourse between adults and minors. Conversely, this meant that every constellation of incestuous relationships was free to enter into the holy bond of matrimony and to hook up with each other, as long as both sides were mature, of course.

There was only one exception: Father-daughter and mother-son marriages required an additional permission which was only issued by the King himself. To get such permission, applicants needed to put forth three good reasons why such an 'unusual' union was necessary. The whole procedure was just a bureaucratic formality. The report proved that marriage proposals of such incestuous kind were never rejected by the royalty, and most notably granted to noble families.

Why?

Over the last centuries, the peerage had to cope with familial problems caused by wars, diseases, sterility, and infighting. For instance, it was not uncommon that a baron fell in battle for his king and his only son became the new family patriarch. Many mothers, however, encountered heavy difficulties to find an acceptable spouse for their sons. Either an alliance with another family was inappropriate or the girl's family belonged to a higher class and didn't agree. In such cases, mothers were happy to marry their sons and to keep their noble lineage intact.

In a similar manner, the same reason went for patriarchs who were already old and had only accomplished to sire daughters, whose wives were too old and not fertile anymore to give them an heir, who didn't want to give criminal organizations a chance to set their dirty hands to their daughters, and so forth. According to the report, the vast majority of the incestuous marriages were arranged because of the need to protect the noble status.

Today, it was verifiable that approximately one of three marriages and one of two members of the peerage actually had an incestuous origin. The dark figure of inbreeding was probably much higher.

As Menge finished reading the entire section about incest and nobility, he was more confused than disgusted. Incest among the nobles was an open secret and became a common sight during the last decades. Everyone was doing it, but speaking about it was still taboo. As widely known, the actual problem with having sex close with relatives was that there was an astonishingly high chance that the offsprings will be born with a serious birth defect. There was always a biological cost to pay.

Even the biggest idiotic and ignorant motherfucker knew that.

Then how the fucking hell did they peerage managed to avoid bearing mentally and physically disabled children into this world? This was the only question Menge wanted to get answered, and seethed with anger as he read the cue of the last statement of the report.

Magic. Peers knew about the problem of genetic disorders and asked for the Brotherhood of Sorcerers' help. The solution the mages came up with was a highly complex potion containing rare magic ingredients the father or son had to drink before he had sex with his close relative. It was known that the potion wasn't going to solve the genetic problems at all but diminish the possibility of occurrence by eighty-two percent.

This was totally enough for the nobles, of course.

In the beginning, the Conclave of Mages, which was the head of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, had to give his personal consent to noble families since the potion was awfully expensive and difficult to brew. 'Clean incest' was, therefore, a privilege of the higher peerage. After short decades and because of the large crowd, this restriction was abolished and access to all people granted.

Although the side effects weren't sufficiently studied, it was a best seller and the mages made a mint of money. After hundreds of years later, they found out by a hazard that an excessive use of the potion would have most likely caused impotence on both partners. To put it briefly, if a son fucked his mother and bred her with his incestuous child, he could get impotent and his mother infertile after she gave birth to her child. Worse, the impotence or the infertility was passed on to the child and this way into the bloodline as well.

This could have led to the extinction of a noble family's entire lineage...

And a cure for infertility or sterility didn't exist till these very days, so the effect was permanent...

Sorcerers and sorceresses used the potion to gain influence in the noble society. Under the pretext of being charged with finding and training magically gifted children, they often tried to stay close to the nobility and even married into it. This way, the Brotherhood of Sorcerers kept its own unofficial records of magic-gifted people within the aristocracy and the common folk. This way, the Lodge of the sorceresses knew how to hassle and blackmail the noble families to get what it wanted.

Since the day he read the entire report, Menge felt no pity for the peerage at all. By putting their noble rank before the people's needs, they brought all this upon themselves and were forced to deal with the consequences. A scent of prostitution, poverty, crime, and incest wafted through these people around him. They only aroused disgust.

When the witch hunts were over and the continent was clean out of nonhumans, Menge was determined to cleanse the false pride from the peerage by accusing them all of their crimes against the human race and humanity. His loyalty belonged to the King and the Church, and not some horny, incest-driven nobles.

"Commander, what a pleasant surprise," Queen Ada said, lips curling. Her long carrot red hair was beautifully falling down her shoulders, her tiara ornamented with red diamonds and sapphires crowning her head. If Menge didn't know she was a result of one of the most famous incestuous relationships on the continent, King Foltest and his sister Adda of Temeria, he would have even thought she was hot as the hinges of hell and an eye candy, and still childless.

Persistent rumors were claiming it wasn't her fault. Menge didn't like to hear lies about King Radovid but it was said that he didn't make it in the sack. Malicious gossip even had it that the King was a wimp with two-inch cock and zero stamina. People close to the royal couple would have suggested making use of magic, but the King would have refused of course, even though an heir was essential for the redanian Crown's survival. Menge just tried to not listen.

"My Queen," the commander bowed.

"Hope the reason for your participation tonight is based on pleasure and not work."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Menge smirked back. "You don't need to worry about me."

"Happy to hear that, Caleb. Don't forget this is a private party. No witch hunts here."

Another fake smirk crossed Menge's face. "Of course. I'll behave myself, as always."

Adda giggled and stepped closer. "Oh, Caleb. I really hope not. Last time in Novigrad, you and lady Ingrid Vegelbud had so much fun. I think she got even pregnant with your child."

Menge gave off a malicious chuckle. "I'm sure she did." He had a lot of fun, but Ingrid? Not at all. Menge blackmailed and threatened her with killing his magic-gifted son if she wasn't going to let him rape her tiny widow cunt right there at that party and the following weeks at her mansion near Oxenfurt. He could still smell her beautiful scent after he was done with her and her tears poured down on her retarded son's bed. The desperation in her eyes was the point that made it so addictive.

"Hope you don't hold yourself back this time too. The entire nobility is in desperate need of new and good genes. Just see it as your patriotic duty to support your King, Caleb," Adda smiled sweetly. "Knock as many noblewomen as possible. Don't waste any dollop of your seed on only one womb."

"Is that the King's order, My Queen?" Menge asked, trying to keep serious.

Adda stepped even closer and whispered, "What do you think, commander?" and tottered away on her heels to other guests while shaking her royal, sexy butt like the Queen she was, the hems of her long black dress skimming over the wooden floor.

Menge's eyes rested on Adda's perky, luscious ass for a long moment before he decided to move on as well. When he attended the last party in Novigrad, he had literally no idea what it was about. Without Hierarch Hemmelfart's personal invitations, he would never have had the chance. The party was reserved for the peerage. The more he was dumbfounded as he learned what the occasion of this event was: An informal get-together of noble houses.

What an innocent name for a gangbang party, right?

The real reason was to reduce the rate of inbreeding within the nobility by giving the mature daughters and mothers a way to get pregnant without being forced to marry one of their breeders. During the next hours, the protocol and the noble ranks were temporarily suspended. In fact, a duke could knock up a baroness and move along like nothing happened. The pub had no claim to titles and money, to anything.

Since the families only bonded with other families who seemed to be beneficial and the rate of weddings declined in principle, these events were a good opportunity to fertile noblewomen to get fresh blood into their own families again. As perverse and wanton it sounded, the party was always well-attended and brimful. This time, peers of Temeria, Kaedwen, Aedirn, Cidaris, and Verden were present too. A happy family gathering of entire North.

Or what was left of it...

In reality, Menge knew perfectly that the nobility was actually raging on the quiet and was dissatisfied with the entire situation at all. Peers from the countries conquered by Nilfgaard, who fled to Redania during the war to seek political shelter from the nilfgaardian occupation, hoped to find King Radovid's support and word to restore the status quo of the previous times. In other words, when the war against Nilfgaard was won, these peers would have returned to their lands to restore the monarchy again.

Temeria and all the other Northern Kingdoms would exist once more.

Radovid V haggled severely, but the secret treaty was successfully signed off at the end. Subsequently, the foreign peers declared the Nilfgaard Empire a common enemy of all Northern Kingdoms and their loyalty to Redania. This led especially to the situation that former temerian and aedirnian soldiers joined the redanian army and began to fight for their countries. And at the beginning of the war, it really worked and the trust within noble community remained high.

But the longer the war advanced the more King Radovid's character changed. On the one hand, he became more paranoid and totalitarian, on the other more power-hungry and unreasonable. The peers, even the redanian ones, lost very much influence over the King's actions. And when Radovid invaded Kaedwen and disempowered the noble families there, the morale absolutely plummeted.

At the same time, the Church of the Holy Fire won on massive power and influence by the founding of its military division called Witch Hunters and by the proclamation of the so-called 'Witch Hunts'. Radovid accomplished in a very clever way to use the heated-up mood of the crowd to focus it against nonhumans, mages, and Nilfgaard. His miracle weapon was called 'fear'. By fanning it, he was able to amend current laws for his benefit and therefore weaken the established peers' positions even more.

That was just the beginning.

Just a few people know that occupation of Kaedwen only worked because of the kaedweni nobility's explicit consent. Nilfgaardian army was heading for the kaedweni city called Ban Ard known for its mining and magical academy, and since the acting ruler of this city was Archduke Talbert, the dead Henselt's youngest brother and pretender to the throne of Kaedwen, he agreed to unite the forces in his distress of losing the entire nation. The truth was that Radovid didn't actually 'invaded' Kaedwen, but the redanian propaganda easily altered the facts the way King Radovid could shine like a military genius.

Trapped in the middle of wishful thinking and matter of 'sink and swim', the peers quickly found themselves between the devil and the burning sun of Nilfgaard. If they decided to turn their back on Radovid, they were going to lose all their titles and privileges. Nilfgaard usually chose his own people to rule their conquered lands than appointed old ones. If the peers decided to stay loyal to Redania and bet on Radovid's integrity, they were going to sink into obscurity and live as nobles without owning any estates or lands.

The real problem, however, referred to the circumstance that only a few noble families of the remnant nations were accomplishing to make ends meet these days. And since the obsolete currencies like Oren and Ducat fell massively in value, the foreign peers automatically began to borrow in the more expensive redanian Crown which unfortunately went down later in value too because of Radovid's excessive 'coin printing' strategy to fund the war and his witch hunts. In sum, the foreign peers were desperate and ready to do anything to keep their titles and privileges.
Menge slipped through the crack of the crowd and looked around. As much as he liked to fuck all these noblewomen's narcissistic asses of whom the half were working as whores and other half bedding their sons and brothers, he was here for something much more important. While the commander worked his way forward, he enjoyed people's anxious gazes and whispering about him. Many of them had sorcerers and sorceresses in their families and had to watch how they got pried out of their hands and burned to ashes like rats.

Then finally, on the second floor, Menge spotted his raven-haired prey. She couldn't see him but he had a perfect view of her skin-tight dress and tasty ass. In contrast to others, Yennefer of Vengerberg was obviously wearing a sexy outfit of Passiflora and Louboutin stilettos.

"Must be worth it to be a zerrikanian Master's cunt these days," Menge thought, watched how the black general was publicly groping her butt without restraint. Yennefer seemed to know no sexual inhibition neither as she squeezed her petite body against his and stroke his cock through his pants. Because of her long ponytail, peers didn't seem to recognize her.

"What would I give to rape that slut now and in front of this damn audience..."

From the corner of his eyes, Menge suddenly spotted two figures he would never have expected to find here. Witchers from Kaer Morhen. The ugly one with a long scar on the face was called Eskel, the one with a half-bald head and stupid expression Lambert. Even though they had appropriate clothing on, both seemed to be not feeling really comfortable with the idea to be here, arguing with each other.

Why were these mutants here?

Menge decided to get to the bottom of it before the real event started. Both witchers weren't armed or seemed to be on the make at all, but he couldn't risk to let them get in his way and changed his position and got closer, showing off his back to their direction, as heard them talking.

"Lambert, let's go. We don't belong here."

"I won't go till I meet the contact. You know that, Eskel."

"This is stupid. YOU are stupid if you think you could find out HERE who the murderers of Aiden are."

"Why are you such a dick? You got something else to do?"

"No... I just think you didn't have to accept the Duke's gift for lifting his daughter's curse and come to this... kind of a party tonight."

"The contact is a nobleman and a part of the peerage itself. He only accepted to meet me here and this night, and I won't leave this place before I don't get a name dammit."

"Don't have a good feeling about this-"

"You, Eskel, never had a good feeling about anything. Can't you just shut up, get drunk and enjoy what they are offering us? Or don't you like having sex like normal people on the continent? If you don't like pussies, perhaps they have goats here too so you can lighten up finally."

"Fuck you, Lambert. Never should have agreed to help and accompany you."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Because you are my friend, and you asked me."

"Which part of having a lot of sex bothers you so much. I don't get it, really..."

Menge moved along again. If he stayed much longer, he would have killed himself right here. Seeing no threat coming in any way by these idiots of witchers, his focus lay on his primary victim again.

"Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention for a moment?" Queen Adda's voice suddenly echoed, as people moved together in jovial, squiffy mood. "Before we proceed to the main event, I'd like to say something and especially to our new little doves here..." A murmur of giggles resounded through the building. "First of all, I'd like to thank Horst for his last-minute comity to provide his auction house for us. He did a great job to organize all this and I'm sure many of our female guests will thank him later in a much personal way."

Another murmur of giggles raised from the crowd.

"Secondly, I want to welcome Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen in the midst of our humble family. Since Emhyr the great Arse tried to murder him once, he decided to change sides. But to have his great wish of asylum get granted by my lovely husband, he must find a strong northern woman first and marry her. Ladies, don't miss this chance today. You have a unique opportunity to enhance your precious lineage by strong nilfgaardian genes, for free... After this night, I'm sure you won't be able to free yourself from dozens of marriage proposals, Shilard."

Both men, Horst and Shilard, laughed together with the audience and bowed before it.

"Thirdly, I'd also like to thank the zerrikanian delegation, General Azol and his so-called haweenay and lady of her Master's harem for their participation. I hope this event is going to be a fertile ground for our future businesses and for the already profitable slavery trade between our nations. Have fun!"

The applause seemed to be endless.

"And finally, I'd like to say something to our newest guest from Temeria and other beautiful countries. The entire building is available for us, every room, basement and even the attic. After you put on a mask, make use of the free space, have fun and - for all the secret female cumsluts among us - get filled and impregnated by as many gallons of cum as possible! Don't consider yourself satisfied with one cock or load only. Suck all the dicks dry till the last drop. King Radovid's personal orders," Queen Adda joked and added, "Woe betide anyone who doesn't follow his instructions. You've been warned."

The atmosphere was superb as people began to scatter to the four winds. Keep the distance while observing his prey, Menge took another sip of his wine glass and got ready to creep up on her. Both love birdies exchanged few words before Yennefer gave a quick nod to the General and went off, leaving her Master behind. Azol kept chatting to the Queen, clueless about the mistake he made by letting his sorceress slave go.

"Let's go and fucking rape this cunt finally!"
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Wet Cherry of Truth