The birdsong before first light was interrupted with a heavy BANG BANG BANG on the oaken door. Erin awoke suddenly, grabbing the dagger near her bedside.

“Erin, it’s me, Henry. I come at the request of our Queen. She demands your audience immediately,” said an old, familiar voice.

Erin set down her dagger and slipped a tunic over her smallclothes. Unbolting and opening the door, she saw her trusted second-in-command, a veteran of many campaigns, Henry. Even in his boots, Henry was a full head shorter than the sleepy warrior that stood before him barefoot. Erin rubbed her eyes, “Old friend, what brings you at this hour and with such haste?”

“I’d love to say but given the sensitivity of the situation, it is best left to a royal audience and not overhead by everyone else. Please, gather your things. Bring your finest armor and weapons for a confidential quest and join me in the cart outside. She’s already packed provisions and water for your old ship.”

Erin nodded and went back inside. Instead of donning her favorite chestplate, steel skirt, and headpiece that showed her status as Captain of the Guard, she opted for her old, black leather armor, reinforced with bronze inside, which gave her a combination of protection, stealth, and agility that her steel did not afford. Sandals were strung up next. She then reworked her auburn hair into braids and tied them back like a horse’s tail. After an application of war paint on her arms and thighs, she slung the bow and arrows on her shoulder, next to her family greatsword strapped across her back, and wrapped the belt along her waist to stash the dagger for close-quarter combat. If all else failed, she had her hands, wide as dinner plates and strong from gripping implements of war her whole life, as weapons. She felt her spirit stir again, after two years without war, that she basked in for a moment before sitting in the cart.

***

The soft clang of her sword echoed in the stone halls of the ancient castle. Henry gave a nod to the guards at the door to the Great Chamber. They opened the door for Henry and saluted Erin. Henry gave Erin a signal to pause at the door. “Sorry, formalities my captain.” He cleared his throat and announced himself to the queen on her throne. Next to her on the king’s chair was a small wooden chest.

“Your Highness, I bring you Erin the Unconquered, The Battlefield’s Bride, The Dragon Dame, The Champion of Whirlwind Woods, The Hammer of the Gods, The First and the Last Sword, She Who Sings with Steel, and uh…”

“Thank you Sir Henry, that’s alright. Come on in you two,” the Queen beckoned.

Erin hated hearing all the titles, it made her a bit bashful. “Henry, I think you missed a couple, remember when I rode a bear into battle? I think that needs a name,” she whispered to him as they approached the queen. Henry chuckled and they knelt before the throne, awaiting instructions.

Queen Ella sighed and began.. “Arise you two. I haven’t been able to sleep since King Alistair and I received this package at midnight. The King was so distraught, he couldn’t bear to be here. Please, keep our conversation private for now and read the scroll that came with it.”

She handed the scroll to Erin, who knew her letters well. She had grown up alongside Queen Ella’s daughter and next-in-line for the throne, Princess Bethany, or Beth for short. Erin came from a line of formidable warriors but received a favorable lot in life. The priestess who delivered her at birth interpreted that the starfalls one that night were a sign that she would be a legend on the battlefield and a fearless leader. The queen, hearing the prophecy and desiring fate to be on her side, enrolled the young warrior into tutorships with her daughter, that is when Erin wasn’t training her deadly skills or campaigning with the troops.

Erin and Beth were thick as thieves when together, and unbeknownst to many, after their nineteenth summers, they tended to share the cold nights together. Good Henry could keep a secret after some persuasion. That was now a decade ago, before Beth found Prince Maximillian from neighboring ally Yulevida at a ball. Though Erin and Beth would sneak out together, exploring each others’ bodies, Beth ultimately would need to marry the prince and keep the matriarchal power structure and line intact. It did help that Beth did love him almost as much as Erin, even if Max wasn’t as dominant in the sheets as the Unconquered One. But as the only child, Beth was under a watchful eye of the Queen - the Queen didn’t want her inept in-laws undoing all the work Alistair and her had done if Beth was not fit to rule with a king by her side. The last two years of peace were hard-earned, after all.

Erin read the scroll aloud,

Dearest El, 

I hope this package does not find you well. Inside is something precious to you but not all of it. You have 5 days to bring 100,000 gold pieces to me on the isle of Xynder if you wish to see them whole again, otherwise I’m opening up the bids to the other kingdoms. Hard to be a future head of state as just a head. Tell Al I’m still thinking of him. 

With Malice,

M.N.

“That bitch,” the Queen muttered, “is the so-called Mistress Nyx. We learned letters and numbers at the royal academy together and we both tried to win the affection of my Alistair. After courting both of us, he chose me and it sent Nyx into a smoldering fury - she vowed revenge someday and that day has come. Look, but please do not be alarmed for they are alive.”

Erin was confused by her last words, but she had to admit the Queen was a looker, it was no wonder Alistair loved her. She was an older, matronly version of Beth with a streak of gray and a more button nose, on top of a body with curves that rolled like the countryside up north.

Erin opened the box. Inside were the severed heads of Beth and Max! But they were alive as the Queen said. Erin took a step back, the battle-hardened warrior temporarily shaken by the sight of her decapitated, but living, friend but composed herself quickly. “Your Graces, I will do whatever it takes.”

Beth’s head thanked Erin. “Mother said we wouldn’t be able to round up that much gold in time to save us, so I suggested we send you on a daring rescue. The isle is a day’s sail away due south. I believe in you.” She blew a kiss to Erin, with renewed hope in her eyes. Max spoke up from the chest, “Be careful of her dark magic. When we were being carried away from our bodies we noticed she had a small mercenary unit with her. I hope this helps and best of luck, Captain Erin.”

***

Erin pulled tight the ropes and studied the ship. “Black sails? I’m going to look like a pirate.”

Henry brought the canteens aboard. “If you leave now, you should arrive by nightfall and the black sails will grant you more cover on open ocean. Besides, a good pirate brings home the booty and I expect you to bring back her plump booty at least.”

Erin laughed heartily. “Are you sure you don’t want to go on one more raid and rescue?” Henry sadly nodded no, he needed to stay behind to make sure the kingdom still ran in this state of uncertainty. “Someone has to keep their head around here. Come back in one piece for me,” he said.

“Your good spirits will be missed, I will return soon,” Erin replied as she sat down at the oars and pushed off from the dock.

***

A strong breeze powered the small ship across the bay and toward the haze surrounding Xynder. What should be a strategically important island was notorious for lost sailors and strange tales, and no one dared to venture there, on purpose, in ages. Normally the weather was calm this time of year but a menacing purple cloud seemed to hover over the island at sundown. Erin was glad she didn’t need to use the noisy oars and prepared for disembarking.  The fog was thicker than her grandmother’s soup, and before she knew it she saw nothing in front of her. Then felt she nothing.

The sound of the waves rolling on the sand woke her up. Erin was facedown on a beach, the purple haze had dissipated. It was early in the day. Her ship was nowhere to be found. Her armor, weapons, and supplies were gone. In fact, all her clothes were gone. Only the lucky runes covered her limbs. However, next to her was her satchel with a few coins she had carried on the ship and another scroll in her hand. It read:

Greetings courier. As a precaution for double-crossing, I’ve removed your weapons, clothing, and ship. You’ll get them back after the deal. Only the bags with money in exchange for their bodies can come with you on this island. And hurry, you’ll find no respite here. Meet me at the top of the rocky outcropping in the center of the island before it’s too late.

-Mistress Nyx

Erin assessed her situation. She’d fought warlocks and witches alike, but always with her weaponry. This was a new challenge. Naked, unarmed, unafraid, and under the tropical, unforgiving sun. She would have to improvise. She washed off the sand between her legs and on her chest, she couldn’t afford chafing now. Carefully heading to the treeline, she climbed a palm tree to gain some lay of the land. Though she stood six foot and four imperial inches tall, the dense underbrush of the jungle limited her line of sight. Speaking of dense underbrush, she wished she hadn’t trimmed the hairs on her womanhood the night before - the palm tree’s bark was rough against her crotch as well as between her breasts.

After a few pulls up the trunk, she saw evidence of the mercenaries - a small fire nearby was winding down and she spotted 6 men and 3 women, scantily clad to adjust for the heat. Perhaps she could get more information out of them. She would need the element of surprise since she didn’t even have materials nearby to make a crude spear or large enough rocks nearby to use as a melee tool.

Silently, she crept carefully through the 100 yards of brush. She spotted the largest man, almost as tall as her, and determined he should be the first target. He went to relieve himself away from the camp and she sprung into action. Covering his mouth and putting him into a headlock, the man passed out without much fight. Next, she pulled another man into the jungle bush and clocked him with a fist, knocking him unconscious. Neither man carried weapons, only small loincloths. Curious for a mercenary army, she thought.  But her luck ran out - one of the women shrieked, finding the first comrade in a bush and alerted the others. Godsdamnit, Erin thought. She leapt out and unleashed a whirlwind of kicks and swings, bowling over the other soldiers with ease. Once she neutralized the 9 of them, she grabbed one woman by the throat and pinned her against a tree. “Where is the witch? And tell me about this island or die,” Erin growled. The female soldier spit out some blood. “Fuck you bitch. Oh shit, James!”

Erin didn’t account for a tenth enemy. She felt something cross through her neck. Her vision started to topple down, and her temple hit the sand but she felt she was still standing. All that she could see were her tanned feet. Her feet? This must be it. The enemy had finally gotten her, after untold numbers of fights. But curiously, she felt that she still had power over her body. Might as well make them pay before her muscular body toppled over, she thought. Weird, she thought, I feel no blood loss leaving my neck…

“I got her, I got her! Mistress will be so proud!” she heard the sword-wielding man’s voice somewhere behind her. Her first order of business was to handle the woman in front of her. She squeezed her neck and the solider’s head popped off. “What the?” was all the newly decapitated head could say. Still, no blood was shed from the place where her head once lied.

Erin slowly realized her time had not come yet. Maybe this place was magical. She could control her body but she would need to focus if she was going to get out of this without more cuts. Recalling her blindfolded training years ago atop the snow capped Mt. Thorne, she listened to the footsteps in the sand amidst the chaos. She grabbed the right leg of the headless woman and it also separated from the body. With the powerful grace and smoothness of an elite warrior, Erin swung the leg and knocked the man who decapitated her down, before pouncing on him and wrestling him. The man had dropped the sword after his comrade’s hamstring bashed his face. She put her thighs, wide as young tree trunks, around his neck until his head shot off several feet away from his neck. His body frantically felt around for its head, wandering around aimlessly in the camp. Sensing that the immediate threats had been taken care of, she walked her body over to her head and then picked up the black broadsword. Erin felt the coolness of the handle radiate up her arm.

The severed female head spoke up. “James, you imbecile. Why did you pull out the only weapon on this island, the Sword of Severance? Mistress didn’t want us to drop loot if we were defeated. That tall brute has it now, we aren’t going to get paid thanks to you.”

Erin looked over at the warrior who cut off her head. He was young, maybe 20 summers old. Not a physical specimen, how could this scrawny boy be the one to have felled the Hell-Raising Heroine? She tried to place her head back on her neck but it wouldn’t reattach - it toppled into the sand again, hitting her left breast on the way down. This was going to be a long mission.

Erin decided to listen to the banter of the awake heads as she tied together some of the loincloths from the knocked out enemies to make a belt. With not enough time to sew together something to cover her sizable breasts and hindquarters, this would have to make do.

“Brittany, she was tearing though the whole company so I grabbed the closest thing I could find. How was I supposed to know what it was?’

“Don’t they teach you anything in mercenary school, James? Hidden weapons in a remote location? Sounds powerful to me. And that Sword enables those affected by it to also have the power to sever others too, so now she can pull us apart like dolls.”

James tried to shrug but he couldn’t. Instead he looked up at the giant beauty before him, her body glistening with sweat.

“Boy, tell me more about this island,” Erin said, crouching down over him, holding her head by its braid. “I may spare you.”  The sweat from her breasts dripped onto his forehead.

“James, no! Do you realize who this is?” Brittany shouted. “The Bitch of the Battlefield, The Bear Wrestler, The Mother of Mayhem - It’s Erin! Her skincare routine is bathing in the blood of her enemies!” Erin laughed, as those were mostly exaggerations - she did take a bath in red-dyed water to intimidate a rival general once.

Despite the pleas from Brittany, James was easily persuaded in this position. Or really, Erin’s position over him.

“My lady, had I known how strikingly beautiful you are, I would’ve never tried to cut a strand of your hair, let alone your neck. Please forgive me,” James pleaded, honestly. It was true, he had not seen a woman this fair, let alone talented. And to see her without armor hiding her voluptuous bosom and trimmed garden, oh what a day! “I wish to help you, if you would let me, oh Auburn Angel.”

Erin weighed his words. He certainly was in no position to oppose her, and she thought his youthful glow was rather charming. Not too many men had looked past her strength, or her rack, and admired her hair. “Alright, James was it? Speak truly and I may spare you,” she said, taking a seat on top of Brittany’s face and placing her own head to the right of her lap in the sand. Brittany could only muffle out sounds of objections but Erin just wiggled more.

“Hark, Mistress cursed the island and us along with it. There’s no food or weapons we carry, maybe some sticks we find. Mistress used a Sword on those royals and a mighty wind cast the sword off the rocks and into the jungle. Our scouts couldn’t find it until I just did, I guess. She didn’t want you to use our weapons against us, or even our food. She made the mercenaries’ bodies take in sunlight as sustenance and we can drink saltwater for our thirst. The berries here are just going to give you the runs, ask me how I know. You’ll have to do your quest quickly if you want to survive. There’s probably eight more sets of us scattered on the way to the rocky hill.”

“Thank you James, I feel you are trustworthy and have a good heart, even if it is about 10 feet to your left. You may take this place of honor,” pointing to her satchel, “after I take care of a few loose ends.” Erin, palming her head in her left hand and wielding the magic sword in her right, stood up to slash the heads off the others and put them in a pile in a tent. Brittany’s head didn’t seem too worse for the wear, James was a little jealous of her being Erin’s chair. Next, she cut the men’s torsos off along with their arms and tossed them on the other side of their camp, and pulled their subdued lower halves to the center where James and Brittany’s heads were. Erin also cut off the arms off the women’s headless bodies too so they couldn’t retaliate.

“Well, that battle and this heat has taken some energy out of me, and if I’m going to fight through more of you, I’m going to need some protein and water. I think you all will do.”

James shrieked, “Nooo! Please don’t eat us!”

Erin replied, “Relax, I’m not from the Arrozini tribe, I’m no cannibal. No, instead I need what’s between your legs and I’m going to need a lot of it. Plus, isn’t helping me out like this more fun than working for that evil witch?” Erin did not discriminate when it came to love - enjoying flings with men and women over long campaigns and foreign lands until she was back in the arms of Beth. Erin knew how to please a man, or at least part of one.

James’ mood improved, he could still feel his body parts and his arousal was on display. The thought of her hard body against his made him harder. “But what about the women of the camp? Why did you do that to them?” The heads of the other soldiers were all awake by now and listening to Erin now.

Erin was finishing up slicing off all the clothes from their bodies. It would make decent kindling. “I just like looking at boobs, James,” she answered simply. “Now, I figure that set of legs is yours. James, no funny business or I’ll dice your head into shark bait. That goes for all of you. I’ll show you mercy if you let your bodies follow my lead.”

The heads agreed verbally, after all this was going to be better than scant pay from Nyx. Erin knelt down and held her head to Jame’s erection and started to pump her head against the standing legs. Her calloused hands worked his shaft, the friction sending James into another place. She swished her tongue vigorously and sucked hard, trying to make quick work so she could move on to the next half of a man. In about 45 seconds, James came and Erin swallowed his load, suctioning harder during this time to drain every precious drop. His legs, having done their duty, plopped down on the sand.

Erin proceeded one by one to suck off the others, grinding her body on some to keep them aroused while her head lavished their comrades. One stubborn set of legs was taking too long so her body pulled the sitting legs up to stand. Her head was still dangling from his member, the power of her suction keeping her attached, and she slipped a finger between his cheeks, a trick she had learned from a cavalry woman many seasons ago. She heard a higher pitched “Oh!” from the head pile and the legs provided what seemed like twice the amount of semen as the other legs.

Satisfied with her makeshift meal and savoring the variety of the mercenaries, Erin snuggled up with the women’s bodies for about ten minutes to recover, her head resting between her and the other’s natural pillows on their chests. After this was all said and done, she might need to treat her own body to some alone time. But not now, she needed to conserve strength. Her breasts, atop chiseled abs, leading down to her sweet spot looked tempting, and seeing her body bend over to arouse some of the men with a grind of her ass made her face redder than any warpaint. But another time, it was taking all the discipline she had to not bury her face into her lap.

At last, Erin tied her braided hair to her makeshift belt so she could use both hands for her upcoming battles. Her head wobbled against her right hip but it was better than holding and potentially dropping her head in future skirmishes. “You mercenaries, come with me if you want pleasure over a few coins.” She tucked James into her satchel, which bounced between her left hip and crotch. “And James, let’s rescue a prince and princess. Where’s the next camp? I could use some more to drink.” James smiled at this new development in his life, ready to see what was next. He could feel the heat of her vagina as she walked. She secretly liked this debauched power, thought James. The lower halves of the men and the armless, headless bodies of the women, stripped of all their clothing, gathered into formation, ready to follow Erin into the dark jungle.