Mount and Babe: Whoreband

Story by Kuroshio

Yes folks, it is here. I proudly present something that absolutely none of you have been waiting for, let alone requested: Mount and Blade parody smut fiction.

Featuring:

1) A title best-known for in-game mechanics and nothing else.

2) Utterly barebones lore with multiple interpretations possible depending on which word you stress in a throwaway NPC comment.

3) A protagonist with tits, cock, balls and pussy.

4) A protagonist without morals, shame, self-control or higher flights of intellect.

5) Violence which serves to pad out the wordcount and make everything unnecessarily grim for a light-hearted sex romp.

Includes:

low fantasy/alternate medieval setting

every possible combination of futa/other gender

sex with clearly underage youths

rough sex

gaping holes

mouth sex

creampies

probable impregnation since nobody pulls out

exchange of sex for goods and/or services

dubcon/noncon

butt sex

gangbangs

exhibitionism

Without further ado...

“Today the gods will decide your fate!”

Actually, I don't want to start there. Let me go a little bit further back.

Ahem. It was a cold, windy day on the steppes of... nah, too far back. Let me try again.

Here we go: I'd been told not to land in Sargoth. I've heard a hundred and one tales about the sea raiders who prowl its shores and launch raids inland against the peasants and their villages. I'd known all of this and decided to charter a ship there anyway, a wispy girl of eighteen hoping to make her mark as a soldier of fortune in the war-torn land of Calradia after being tossed out of my father's tent for fucking his wife, my stepmother, and her son, my younger stepbrother.

The sex was worth it in both cases though.

Right off the bat, I knew things were bad and were going to stay bad. Practically my first steps away from the docks after haggling with the guards extracting tariffs for passengers? Bandits. Bandits looking to do more or less the same thing as the guards, only without the lord's approval. It was a brawl, something I'm certainly accustomed to after growing up on the steppes, but fuck what an introduction to the Nordic kingdom. Straight up bandits running around the capital. Granted, it was night and nothing wholesome happens at night in the city but I was hoping for a gentler sort of unsavory.

Instead I got my ass kicked. Especially hard too, since I'd at least managed to put an arrow right into one fucker's knee. Bet that ended his adventuring days. But it didn't get the dinars and my equipment they'd taken back, nor did it un-kick my ass. I lost a really nice sumpter horse, my hunting bow, my axe, the furs I was going to trade, rawhide coat while I lay there, bruised and moaning. They even took my hide boots! So I was shit out of luck in a foreign town with the looks of a steppe girl being my only asset. What ever would I do?

Oh c'mon. Stop pretending to be so chivalrous. You know exactly what I did.

I went straight to the town's tavern and asked the keeper if he knew anyone who had some work I could do. My Calradic wasn't the best and I'm sure I sounded offensively foreign but he understood. The guy was bald with bushy eyebrows and a big mustache and I trusted him about as far as I could throw him but I needed dinars – if not for new gear than at least for accommodation in town. He smiled like a cretin and uncrossed his arms, “I know some work you could do around the tavern...”

He came from behind the counter and motioned me to follow him to a back room. It was small, smaller than the normal room you'd find at an inn, with nothing but a straw mattress for adornment. This, folks, was because Sargoth's tavern, much like every tavern, inn and manor in Calradia, also operated a brothel on the side. And I was the newest girl, so every leering drunkard downed their ale and dropped a coin in my new pimp's pocket to be the first in line. From what the serving girl-cum-whore Ethys told me later, it turned into a bidding war with the winner being some hired blade from Veluca.

I was just getting comfortably naked on my belly when he poked inside, a big beard on his face and ale on his breath, “You a Khergit?”

That rankled. It rankled a lot. I found out later that Calradians didn't mean any offense when they called someone from the steppe a Khergit, but I didn't know then, “No, I'm from –“

“The Khergit Khanate! I know your type,” he closed the door behind him so hard it actually didn't catch and swung back open as he approached, undoing his breeches along the way, “Caught me a lancer once... downed his horse with a quick slash, hah! Then I kicked him in the head before he could recover from his little spill.” The man actually acted out the blows, looking incredibly ridiculous in the process because his cock was flopping all over the place while he did it.

“Over three years pay once he was ransomed, yes indeed. Caught me a Khergit lancer and paid for my

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