Myds6

Clarabelle complied. Iris, out of tricks, dropped to her knees and surrendered to Lorraine, and Chorinna, begrudgingly, had to follow suit.

“That was easy!” Lorraine gloated. “You, over here!” Rowena commanded to Clarabelle, putting her on her knees next to the other two. “You, get that gate open. I’ll “inspect” these prisoners. Lorraine nodded and headed to open the gate.

“You were a fool to challenge me!” Rowena declared, “But I suppose you know that now. Kneel and I’ll spare your life.”

Clarabelle was too terrified to move, as Rowena’s sword stripped her, one piece of armor at a time. First her belt and scabbard, then her skirt, then the chainmail.

AS the armor fell away, her plump flesh popped out, as if freed from a sardine can. In a short time, she was wearing only a skimpy pair of white panties, her boots, bracers, and the blue bow in her hair. 

After about a dozen parries, Rowena’s expression changed. With one flick of the wrist, she disarmed Clarabelle.

 Keeping her blade aimed at Clarabelle as a threat, she then executed a quick series of precise cuts, aimed at the support system of her armor.  

Lorraine ran toward Chorinna, but the magistrate did her best to stay away from the armed dairy farmer.

 Iris managed to stand still long enough to cast a spell. A bull came running down the ramp. She hoped that this illusion would set her opponents to flight as it had last time. Rowena barely noticed the rampaging bull, and Lorraine looked at it for a moment, and attacked unfazed. Of course, the model for the bull had been Mortimer, the large, ornery beast from Lorraine’s farm. Knowing where she had last seen the beast, Lorraine realized it was an illusion, and now targeted Iris. <...

“When we defeat them, I want custody of these three,” Lorraine said, “It’s personal.”

Clarabelle charged Rowena with a high attack. Rowena easily parried; her skills were such that her opponent posed little danger to her, and she smiled, glad to be fighting a trained warrior at least. Conquering this town had proved no challenge at all, and she was honestly bored.

Clarabelle tried and tried again, rebuffed each time by Rowena’s defenses. The knight was drawing out the fight, using it for entertainment and light exercise, and Clarabelle’s hopes sunk...

“I’ll take care of this one, “ Rowena said, smiling, “You can handle the others, I take it?”

“What are your plans here? I order you to leave our peaceful town immediately or—“

Arriving at the gate, they found Chorinna and Eleanor having just closed the gate, and Clarabelle, having secured the area, headed straight for the town square.

“My soldiers should have already occupied this square. Take this,” Rowena said, handing the mace to Lorraine to complete the outfit. “We will make for the gate and see what’s wrong.” With supreme confidence, she patted her horse and left it behind as the two of them made for the gate.

“When the attack was announced, most of the townspeople hid inside,” Lorraine informed the knight. “I tend to have that effect on people,” Rowena conceded, smiling wickedly.

. “Nothing personal, dear Patrice, she taunted, as she put on the armor. “You were just in the way.” She left the denuded guard bound in the town square as Rowena gave the next orders.

“Now, take her clothing and armor,” Rowena commanded, removing her foot from Patrice. In no time, Lorraine had pulled Patrice to her feet and removed her armor.

Lorraine delivered a few swats to her large, round breasts, soft flanks, and large buttocks as she finished undressing her, then tied her wrists and ankles with the strong lace that kept her bodice together, leaving Emile tied up on the cobblestones.

It was not difficult to bind Angelique, who put up little resistance at this point, and soon, she was lying next to Emile. 

. Like Angelique, she wasn’t wearing undergarments, instead relying on the laced-up bodice of her dress to keep things in place.

The story so far

It's come to my attention that the snippets of story with the pictures are a little hard to follow, so I'm posting the entire story so far as a block.  Hopefully, some of my formatting will remain in this long post:

The sleepy town of Dacqoise sat at a quiet bend on the river Cirop, and by all indications, should have remained a quiet, idyllic hamlet. Its well-built buildings and pleasant weather made it a pleasing locale for its small numbers of inhabitants. Its industrie...

Lorraine took pleasure in stripping the woman who had engineered her defeat. Unlike the other townspeople in the square, Emile had a voluptuous and soft body.

The rider dismounted, and, holding her sword toward the barmaid threateningly, addressed Lorraine. “So, you are the one that opened the gates for us.”

Lorraine nodded. “Traitor!” Angelique spat, but an ironclad gaze from the armored woman made her bow her head silently. Addressing Lorraine, the knight continued. “I see you’ve run into some trouble here.”

“Yes, Lady Rowena,” Lorraine said, bowing her head. Angelique, realizing the tides had turned against her, dropped Lorraine’s red lacy panties that she had still been holding. A breeze carried them away before Lorraine could recover them.

Rowena looked at Emile, the only full-clothed townsperson. “You strip her, and tie her up, then this one,” she commanded, gesturing first to Emile, then Angelique.  I’ll deal with the guard. Patrice was just starting to regain consciousness. Rowena found her discarded mace, and stood over her, with her sword in one hand and the mace in the other. A black-armored sabaton came down on Patrice’s chest. “Stay down. You have been thoroughly defeated.” Rowena sai...

“We need to get out of here, we’re under attack!” Emile said, “Get Patrice, and let’s go.” But Angelique was already grabbing the stunned Lorraine’s panties and tugging them down.

A flustered Emile decided she’d have to knock the dairy farmer out, and bring the other two into the tavern for safety. 

That’s when they heard the hoofbeats approaching. Fast at first, they settled into a trot. Emile moved aside as a huge black horse, bearing a rider in black armor, with a huge sword over her shoulder, made its way into the square.

Finally, Emile tore the mace loose, and let it clatter to the ground a few feet away. Lorraine, disarmed and concerned, now squared off with the much huskier barmaid.

“I will beat your ale-guzzling lardass,” she taunted. “Think again, milk-drinker!” the heavier woman shot back. Meanwhile, Angelique was still hoping to get her dress, but both of them were now standing on it. She considered just running home, but then she looked again at Lorraine.

The dairy farmer caught the barmaid by surprise with a gut punch, and it looked like she had the upper hand. Grabbing her by the hair, she was planning on delivering a knockout punch, when something pulled her own hair so hard it yanked her head back. Emile recovered, and grabbed her arms.

Angelique stunned her with a punch, then grabbed hold of her dress. “What are you doing!?” Emile shouted “knock her out!” But Angelique pulled the dress up, and pulled it up over the dairy farmer’s head. The tavern maid had to let go as the dress came over the arms she was holding. In no time, Angelique had Lorainne’s dress off, revealing a red, lacey bra and panties. “How do YOU like it?” the merchant said, enjoying a modicum of revenge. Lorraine, however, ...

Just then the town bell, kept near the gate, rang. “We’re under attack!” came a scream from some nearby street. “Everyone! Get inside!” another voice shouted. Angelique knew any chance of rescue had probably evaporated with that bell. Or had it?

The dairy farmer was so intent on the scene in front of her that she missed Emile, the local tavern maid, who was coming up behind her as quietly as possible. Grabbing the heavy end of the mace with both hands, the heavy-set blonde tried to wrest control of the weapon. Angelique almost turned to run, but paused, seeing her chance to cover up, by getting her dress, if Emile was able to stop Lorraine. But Lorraine stomped on the dress, keeping Angelique bent over and tugging ...

“You should have run,” Lorraine said. “Come to think of it, I’ve never liked you…with your golden locks, your purse full of gold, your expensive garb…yeah…that’s it. Get that dress off, right now. I think it would fit me.”

“You’re insane!” Angelique replied. “Just do it…or you’ll see what this mace does. Things are about to change around here.”

Angelique bit her lip, and her gaze shot around the square, looking for someone to intervene. Then, she slowly pulled the dress over her head, in shock that the dairy maid was committing crime after crime in broad daylight. 

“Ugh, I should have guessed that you weren’t wearing anything under it. Now I have to wash it....

Loraine waved the mace menacingly at the merchant. “Guards! Help!” Angelique screamed, stepping back, “She’s gone crazy!” Lorraine lunged forward to keep Angelique away, but no other members of the town’s short-handed security force appeared to help.

“What’s the meaning of this?” shouted Angelique, a local merchant, as she approached Lorraine.

The answer arrived in the form of an unexpected punch to the jaw.

As she fell on the ground of the town square, she could hear the gasps of the townspeople, and as she lost consciousness, she saw Loraine taking her mace from her belt.

In the meantime, Patrice, the gate guard, was panting, having run to the center of town at high speed, in full armor. “Are you sure Clarabelle ordered me to the town square? What’s going on?” “I’m sorry,” said Loraine. “For what?” the winded guard asked, visibly annoyed.

Arms, weapons, waterlogged boots, and most of their clothes were left behind as they pulled their bodies from the squelchy mud. More soldiers were coming, but the bull had given them the time they needed to get inside the gate.

As the gate nearly shut, she saw the bull disintegrate into particles of light, and momentarily, there was nothing where it had been. She smiled.  Finally, they  slammed it shut, and barred it.

(From now on, the pace picks up a lot!)

who had dived from the low bridge to avoid the bull, extricated themselves from the mire, having to strip off their heavy gear in order to do so.