"If you have a gun, you can rob a bank. But if you have a bank you can rob everyone."

Black Mask

 

"Two of the most dangerous man-made things are counterfeit money that is genuine and legitimate banks that are fake."

Unknown origin

 

I was not yet swimming in honestly earned money. But my daily earnings were getting bigger and bigger. Over the course of the last few days, they increased from 50 to 100 gold pieces. My rough estimate was, my profit after expenses would increase to 1000 gold pieces per day over the next weeks and months. The mirrors alone would bring hundreds of gold pieces in the beginning. The nobility would bleed gold for them.

 

The three alchemists' work on the purity of the raw materials had paid off. Two of the sample melts were clear glass. The third mixture was somehow messed up. It looked like malachite. Even if it was malachite was it useless to me at the moment. I put the three tinkerers to work on further developing the best method for purifying my raw materials.

 

My highways would pay for themselves much more in the long run. Once I got the highway toll in place, courtesy of the trade guild. Every commodity, every transport wagon, every caravan would pay for the privilege of using MY highways. Those who did not want to pay were welcome to continue using the existing bumpy roads. And deal with the bandits and robberies. And those who used the paved roads but refused to pay? Well, the guild has tried and tested means of bringing unruly members to heel. I was already looking forward to the first aristocrat who had other ideas than to pay dutifully.

 

My streets in the duchy made the beginning. Virga couldn't really refuse my argumentation. It was more along the lines of "Yes, Mistress." and I got my way. Since she was allowed to attend my session with Alice her behavior has somehow changed for the better.

 

Somehow the no-good, perverted rabbit had outsmarted me. More likely, though, was that I knew too little about the mating rites and rites of passage of the demi-humans. In a way, Alice was my mate. I was married?

 

What was wrong with this world? Someone "marries" a rabbit by grabbing her by the ears? Who comes up with such twisted ideas? I admit it HAS been a lot of fun to grab her by the ears. At the next opportunity I squeeze out of my girls how their rituals are for getting married. I already get migraines when I think of the jealousy dramas that will come.

 

And this prick from Loptr also congratulated me. Damn Peeping Tom! The best show since long time. My ass. If he had not "blessed" me, he would now be on my shit list.

 

Calm down. There's power in calm. Highways. In order for my highways in the duchy to progress quickly, I needed more workers than Charl could provide. I proposed to him a pact with the devil. That is, with yours truly. He provide as many workers as he could and I contributed slaves. I bought every male slave who was strong enough. In Nuldur, the amount of available slaves had decreased impressively. Which, of course, caused the price for the rest to skyrocket.

 

Especially when I bought all slave traders their complete goods at a fixed price with wholesale discount. The slaves I would not need immediately were to remain on site as consignment goods until they were picked up. If the slaves could be sold before pickup, the dealer's commission fee would be one percent of the sale price. After picking up my asphalt slaves, I had the beggars spread the rumor that there were very few slaves left to buy. Since supply influences the price, my profit was so high that I only had to pay a pittance for my own "purchase".

 

For each asphalt squad, you only needed one who was trained. The rest of the group basically just had to shovel sand, mix asphalt to the right proportions, and then be able to roll it flat. Admittedly - tearing out tree stumps sometimes proved difficult. But in most cases, a small steam engine on a horse-drawn wagon helped. A steam roller instead of pulled metal rollers was already planned but steam powered wagons I did not want to introduce. Fortunately, it takes some imagination to draw a connection between horse-drawn wagon and steam roller, and then the necessary know-how to make a vehicle out of it.

 

I consulted with Mariette, Constie and Virga as to which connections would be best to complete first. Virga impressed me with her suggestion. It was quite profound to advance the connections with nearby tar pits first. This significantly simplified the asphalt supply. My slave duchess had something in her head. Unfortunately, in my case, she hadn't used it before and let her emotions run unbridled. With a little grinding and polishing, however, I would make something good out of her. As a reward, she was allowed to choose whether she wanted to show me her "oral" skills or watch Alice.

 

To my astonishment she asked me to spank both of them together. Sometimes it surprises me myself what effects my training has. But I do not judge. A spanking, as requested. I'm happy to grant it.

 

Mariette managed to arrange a consultation with the ambassador of the dwarves. It would take a good week until then but as long as I could talk to him I could sleep contentedly. As soon as he had seen my "arguments" the dwarves were as good as in my bag.

 

Until then I could have some fun with the locals. And of course with the out-of-towners. I did not forget my cute zealots.

 

So while all my building projects were going on without my supervision, including my bathhouse, of course, I wanted to try my hand at the competition. What I knew so far pointed quite clearly in a certain direction. Which competition? The prize money regarding the copy of the "stamp" for slave collars, another one was not known to me. The reward wasn't too bad either. And I can always use some pocket money. What? Care products for women are after all more expensive than men's stuff.

 

The visit itself was funny. When I asked for the stamp, someone tried to enslave me. Pretty brave, but also pretty stupid when someone is on the road with a troop of slave girls ready for almost anything and an aide. I still owed Mariette something. And I left the pepper spray to her.

 

The demonstration lasted a good half hour. I think Mariette had some frustration built up. Don't think I would forbid her to come. No, I rewarded her whenever she pleased me. I just made sure that she saw how the other girls got a little "more". It was understandable to me that Mariette wanted to let off some steam.

 

Who was not allowed to come were my cute religious-oriented pets. After almost a week of being forbidden to come and being brought to near climax several times a day sometimes makes a woman a little wild. Almost desperate. The almost pitiful other enjoyed a similar "stress relieving" affection. Poor doggie.

 

Coming back to my would-be enslaver, neither my slave girls nor my ever-eager adjutant let anything as trivial as whining, screaming, or even whimpering distract them from their righteous task. So droll. The children were allowed to continue playing while I attended to my fun.

 

To say I was speechless and stunned would be a pretty good description. The "stamp" was not adamantite, mithril or orichalcum. Oh, it already had a fancy name. However, the metal here was just called <Fuhen no kinzoku>. "Immutable metal?" Yes, I was a bit perplexed. I would have expected a "divine metal," black as night or glowing emerald green, something like that. What lay before me simply looked like a piece of iron. Tool steel at best. Extremely strange. Fascinating.

 

Searching for the secret, I found out by simple propping:

• Hitting it with a hammer or blade did not scratch the surface in the slightest
• Only one side "transmitted" the magic
• A certain amount of pressure was necessary to "imprint"

 

Actually, it could only be some elevation on the material. Only there was simply nothing to be seen. The surface looked no different than any other side. At least to the naked eye.

 

I wouldn't try to feel my guess with my fingers in any case. Having a slave imprint on my own finger is not really what I'm into.

 

The logical solution had to be in the tininess. My hope was that I wouldn't have to build a scanning electron microscope to confirm my suspicions.

 

Magic can be quite practical. And in conjunction with some technology? Very useful.

Yes, I could have magically improved my eyes. But I don't mess with things that work well without knowing exactly what I'm doing. Ok. An engineer is ALWAYS improving something. But we don't mess with something we don't really understand or can't estimate the effects of. Screwing around with your own eyes is a good example of that. I am not one of those villains who try to make their body invincible. Even though I can understand the basic idea. It's kind of the same as having my boobs pumped up just to jerk someone off.

 

I just improved the resolution of the camera on my smartphone. Much simpler and serves the same purpose. And just took a picture of the embossing on the stamp.

 

What I found was educational. And funny.

 

The stamp was the work of other "heroes" who must have landed here before. Three guys and a girl. Why do I know this? The four of them signed it. I laughed for minutes under the eyes of distraught guards who were watching to make sure I didn't steal the stamp.

 

The four were still quite young, my money is on middle schoolers, when they set about introducing slavery. Basically, I can only approve of this approach. It's in my nature. At least one was pretty clever to come up with the trick of the tiny embossing.

Taken as a whole, the four lacked experience and wisdom. Technically a brilliant idea, the masterpiece failed in the details. Some of the magic commands led to loopholes and oddities I had already noticed.

 

In addition, I found the explanation for the little surprise that the paladin had given me. The girl had installed a " safeguard ". The phrase <FREE THE BELIEVERS FROM THE YOKE OF SLAVERY!> destroyed the collar. The burning was just an additional show effect.

 

The solution to the riddle of "Fuhen no kinzoku" was clever and simple. The stamp simply had <Immutable metal> carved into it. Simple, brilliant - downright ingenious. And of course, I copy this idea for myself. And keep it for myself. At least until I have found a way around.

 

On my way out, I mentioned that I could multiply the stamp. I would demonstrate the effectiveness tomorrow and my minimum price would be 10 platinum coins each. And that I could make a maximum of ten. Because the " Fuhen " would be so rare. In two weeks I would auction the duplicates at the trade guild. I will, of course, make eleven.

 

Before the oppressive silence turned into chaotic yelling, I gathered my girls again and we left. What was left of the wanna-be sold Mariette at an excellent price. Despite the obvious damage and hysterical screeching.

 

Maybe I would leave my own signature on my replica. "You've been hacked and pwned! Laura." That would suit me, wouldn't it?

 

I guess it was time to keep my appointment with the Bank Guild. No rest for the wicked. Sigh. My second visit with Gina was not only informative and pleasant. In fact, I should have showered her with gold.

 

There are two truisms.

1. Turning lead into gold is the Holy Grail of alchemy.

2. To become really rich you have to own a bank.

 

For me, both truths did not really apply.

 

You can't chemically turn lead into gold. There is simply no chemical reaction that turns one element into another. Fact. It' s like that. No amount of whining and hysterical screeching will help. Deal with it.

 

But what works, you can strip the lead of three protons. Physically and technically, this may be a bit complex and expensive, but the point is that it is possible. Magic makes it much easier is the magic word. Bad pun, I know.

 

Lead, Pb, atomic number 82, neutrons 122 to 126, melting point 600.61 degrees Kelvin.

Gold, Au, atomic number 79, neutrons 118, melting point 1337.33 degrees Kelvin.

 

For the sake of simplicity, I melt lead. Magically remove 3 protons and the extra neutrons from the lead atoms and the gold solidifies again. Skim the gold and keep going until you're done.

 

Just hilariously ridiculously easy.

Admitting mercury would be easier. Only one proton. But mercury is not nearly as easy to get as lead. Or available.

I could make almost any amount of gold myself. If I felt like it, I could also hatch gold from hydrogen. And yes, I worried that it was all too easy. At some point, everyone should start to doubt whether all is right when everything falls into your lap.

 

Hell, I could turn gold into platinum. The same principle.

 

The fact that the method worked just as easily didn't make it any easier for me to accept.

 

I really don't need a bank to get rich.

I need a bank to launder my real fake gold.

 

The Royal Bank of German Nation, Nuldur branch in Mitoran.

 

With a deposit of several metric tons of purest gold.

 

I already had the inscription and minting of my gold coin to the Taler in mind.

"We trust in gold" and "Oro o plomo" as a promise.¹Kind of double pun. Gold or lead means in Mexico "take my money or I kill you." /And the gold was  actually lead.

 

My own bank, with my own bullion coin, even counterfeit-proof I would make it. A currency based on the value of the metal from which the coins were made is considered a safe currency. Bullion. Why I don't just go and replicate the Mitoran gold coins?

 

Now, now, the banking business is one of mutual trust. A banker would never trust someone who counterfeited a currency.

 

I had plans for my bank. The sheer malice and danger behind my idea put such a nasty smirk on my face that the bank guild employee asked for a brief pause. Oops.

 

Mariette surprised me with a kiss on the cheek.

 

"Milady you look so beautiful when you do this. Please forgive my mentioning that it may frighten the squeamish, Milady."

 

My eager little minion. Tonight I tie and gag her before I fall asleep.

 

"Your advice is precious to me, Mariette. Collect all the documents. Cebille sent me the first drafts of my collection. And I couldn't think of a better model to try on than you.

 

"Yes, Milady. Thank you, Milady."

 

"Of course, we have to clean ourselves thoroughly in advance. After all, we don't want the underwear to get dirty beforehand. And I think I'll let Virga and Alice watch, what do you think, Mariette?"

 

"Oh yes, please. That's a wonderful idea, Milady."

 

I had an excellent time in the bathroom. Of course I made sure that Mariette was perfectly clean. She was so obedient. Even when I cleaned her "dirty" place in depth, she just sighed gently instead of protesting. Not that I would be impressed by that. I was curious if she would like enemas.

 

I cared about my subordinates and they should want for nothing. Just as it should be.

 

The lingerie was a complete success. Each of my girls wanted to wear such sexy lingerie!

 

I was no different. Sexy underwear just makes a woman feel better.

 

Logically, I understand the arguments of men that women still look best naked. And it is not necessary to seduce them additionally with lingerie. As soon as a man sees a woman in lingerie he starts to undress her. In the literary as well as in the figurative sense. It really takes only moments until the expensive underwear has fulfilled its purpose and the switch is turned to sex.

 

A man is normally simple when it comes to sex. On. Off. On. Off. It really doesn't need sexy priceless panties. In fact, all it takes is: Sex? And off goes the man.

 

A woman is generally a bit more delicate. She has to overcome her insecurity first. Do I look good enough? Off. I think so. Maybe not off. A little more makeup? Almost on. Is my dress sexy enough? Uh. Dunno. Should i wear red? OnOff woman.exe has stopped working!

 

Men are sometimes enviably simple.

 

As I looked at Mariette dressing and undressing I had an inspiration. Tonight I would have guests at a lingerie party.

 

Applied knowledge is the triumph of engineers!

 

I immediately started with the preparations and placed orders.

 

Mariette had to write the invitation list in her underwear while I gave the kitchen and the servants the order to prepare everything for a soiree with buffet.

 

I spontaneously thought of Cheval, Gina, Cebille and Enko. A moment later I suggested to all four of them to bring a few friends interested in a demonstration of my new underwear collection. Out of pure generosity, I also invited Clara de Montan.

 

As soon as my bunch of girls and servants broke out into excited bustle, I retreated to my workshop.

 

I had a very special thong-string in mind as a " climax ".

 

"Milady looks beautiful. If I may take a hint, Milady."

 

Even a villainess like me can't resist such an honest compliment. Starting tomorrow, I would show Mariette the delights of an enema.

This thong was supposed to be a giveaway to Cheval. But I was sure she would immediately order some specially made for her after the "climax" of my party. Hopefully Cebille was prepared enough for orders.

 

Around 20:00 my guests arrived by carriage. While one carriage each was sufficient for Cheval with her little mounts, Gina and Cebille with their respective girlfriends, the column from the palace consisted of four carriages plus a good number of escort soldiers. And as a special highlight, Captain Klien.

 

The question of whether I had uninvited guests on my estate didn't really arise for me. Rather how many.

 

"Captain Klien! What a pleasure. It's just perfect that you're here. You'll be happy to put yourself forward for a little demonstration later, won't you? You have my word it will only hurt a little and not kill you. After all, you are a healthy, athletic man in the very prime of life."

 

My vampire locator worked flawlessly. This time the magic number was 5. Spies are predictable at least in that they are curious. How unfortunate if he didn't have any female spies with him.

 

Of the heroines, all had come to my soiree. I greeted my kouhai warmly and whispered to them, "My experiments in making cosmetics are going well."

 

The girls let out little shrieks of joy and fell into each other's arms. The little delights are the best.

 

Cheval I kissed on the mouth while kneading her ass. Some of the ladies present took a deep breath. With the accompanying whores I left it at a kiss on the cheek.

 

Gina and Chebille I rewarded with a hug in greeting. Their companions I greeted politely after a mutual introduction.

 

I quietly confided to Clara de Montan and her maid that I thought especially the "climax" of the event would be helpful for the female servants. From both women I received thereupon a calculating look.

 

For the evening I allowed Virga to play the role of the Duchess. Dressed in posh clothes, she looked as if she would enjoy it.

 

"My honored ladies if you would please follow Duchess Virga, we have set up a small buffet of delicacies and drinks for your physical enjoyment. There is no need to hold back now or soon during the demonstration of the models."

 

As expected, the hard of hearing Captain Klien and his spies moved with my guests. How charming. I cleared my throat.

 

"Captain Klien? May I ask from when you became a woman and congratulate you on this choice?"

 

The question elicited giggles from my female guests. Much to the embarrassment of our thoroughly male Captain Klien.

 

Generous as I am, I suggested two alternatives to him.

 

"Well Captain, you are faced with a dilemma. I will kill any man who enters this room uninvited. I certainly hope you didn't just bring men sneaking around here. And yes I know you came here with four other "visitors"."

 

Why four? Well, I have to give the captain a chance to be honest with me. How were we ever going to build mutual trust if he kept trivialities from me?

 

"So either ONLY women enter the hall or ALL men will be behind a screen without disturbing the ladies. To anyone who is not visibly prowling around here I give the urgent advice to stay by the carriages and not to look for interesting smelling garbage. And Captain Klien, what's it going to be?"

 

I was pretty sure he had to keep an eye on the heroines. Spying on me would be a bonus. For his employer. Edward. As for Klien, his priorities would be different. The good captain would be too happy to satisfy his curiosity regarding yours truly. Frustration is an occupational disease in the intelligence business. Unfortunately, I have no pity to offer you right now. Sorry.

 

"We'll stay behind the screen, Lady Laura. I thank you for pointing out my near fatal error in a timely manner."

 

"But that's not a problem. You are welcome. Please tell Edward what Baron de Kurdal is worth to him. That is, alive, unharmed, in possession of his manhood and not enslaved. The good Baron has made an unpleasant impression on me. And Captain Klien, if you do not know why? Then you are not doing your job properly."

 

"I will gladly deliver any of your messages to His Majesty, Lady Laura."

 

It was kind of ironic when I saw another dot on my tracking creeping toward the other buildings. With a sigh, I pulled out my gun and shot whoever was on the move.

 

"Oops. I certainly hope that wasn't one of yours Captain. Now let's get started. My girls are excited."

 

I let my servants know "Strip the body and hang it by the road like the others. Then find out who he is and who hired him."

 

The captain looked a little worn out. He probably ate something wrong.

 

"Yes, we don't want to keep the ladies waiting, Lady Laura."

I found the ladies already engaged in relaxed conversation when I entered the room with Klien.

 

"Ladies, contrary to my plans for a completely unconstrained evening event, Edward apparently insists that his kidnapped female victims are not unobserved. Captain Klien of the Palace Guard and some of his staff insist on being in the same room. The captain's subordinates are adamant about remaining undetected and have camouflaged themselves. I know you must all feel terrible about being monitored by invisible men."

 

Now, now, Captain, you didn't think you'd get away with it, did you?

Anyone who knows adolescent girls knows that there are few things worse than adults spoiling your fun with your girlfriends. In addition, the looks of the other women when I spoke of kidnapping and watching. That can't be a pleasant experience.

 

"Had Edward told me his wishes well in advance, I would have provided you with evening gown masks to ensure a certain level of discretion. The captain and I were able to agree that he and his staff would be allowed in the room, but would be behind screens to allow for a minimum of decorum. I promise you all that any man who tries to observe us will regret this attempt."

 

To my surprise, Virga began to giggle. Infected, all my guests laughed afterwards.

 

"All men behind the screen, whoever peeks will suffer the consequences."

Brave as lambs, three of the dots on my display followed the captain to their assigned place. The remaining two tactically pressed up against the walls. Nice try.

 

Number one was clearly female. My sense of touch is excellent when I have tits in my hands. And these tits were firm, grippy and definitely sensitive.

 

Which proved a clearly perceptible "Uhhhh". However, one must not rely on first impressions and the pointed squeak as I felt her crotch and pressed on the pubic bone confirmed my suspicions. Definitely female.

 

Generously, I allowed, "You may watch."

 

Number two was not so lucky. No tits. Cock in the crotch. Oh, you could have been fooled by the sounds alone. Squeezing his balls produced a rather high pitched squeal that sounded deceptively feminine. Only the kick in the sad manhood brought the necessary certainty. That was - unapologetically and straightforwardly spoken - hellishly painful.

 

To my great delight, the Royal Court Magician, Michaele de Mitchcombe, younger brother of the Count de Mitchcombe, became visible. How small the world is. Probably Michaele did not feel subordinate to Klien.

 

"Very naughty, de Mitchcombe. I had taken such pains to keep the rigmarole to a minimum. But no, you Michaele had to step out of line. Ladies, Michaele has just volunteered to serve as a test subject along with the brave captain at the end! Applause please."

 

Except for de Montan and her maid, my female guests applaud my announcement. Clara looked rather icy as she looked at Michaele on the floor. Ow.

 

I was relieved that we could finally get started. And called two of my girls, dressed only in lingerie, to the catwalk at a time. One design each in different colors. The ladies were delighted.

 

It started with more covering, but still sexy looking bodies. After that, my models revealed more and more skin. Depending on their personal inclinations, the onlookers reacted from deep breaths to ecstatic cheers to the scandalous, exciting, sensational, outrageous and indecent garments.

 

The fabric in question clung tightly to the female curves. In white, pink, red or black color. Currently, Cebille could only sew me silk or lace, any other fabric available was simply not sexy enough.

 

With one exception. I had a little surprise for my Japanese guests before the climax.

 

Virgin killer. Knitted from the softest wool.²Just abuse g@@gle if you don´t know.

 

Most of the young girls and my ponies literally freaked out with excitement. A few joined the adults and glowed shamefully.

 

When I gave Cebille the order for a certain number of Virgin Killers I thought I perceived a certain awe on her part. Weird.

 

I had already set aside enough for my needs. Generously, each guest was allowed to choose a Virgin Killer for herself. Gifts preserve friendship. And the envy of every friend who does not own such a spicy rag. Cebille had confided to me that by now there were no more unemployed seamstresses, tayloresses and so on in town. She had swept the job market clean.

 

It was time for the finale. The climax. Mariette.

 

"Mariette, please come to the catwalk and show us what's hiding there under your pants."

 

The hottest fucking thong Maronde had ever seen. Wickedly sexy. Red as blood. Made of the velvety silk gold could buy. Less than 40 square centimeters of fabric.

A mere string between her tight ass cheeks. Perfection.

 

The women forgot to breathe for the first few seconds. And then the enthusiasm set in. For minutes, everyone chattered away, reveling in the sheer audacity and shamelessness.

 

"Ladies, Cebille and I appreciate your approval. But we've just about finished the foreplay. Cheval, please assist us with the demonstration."

 

I joined Mariette on stage, kissed her gently on the lips and whispered to her "Are you ready? Don't worry nothing will happen to you."

 

She nodded bravely at me.

 

"Mariette, please show us how you take off and put on the thong. Make sure that all my guests can see well."

Well, for a woman there wasn't really anything to see that she hadn't already seen herself every day. Still, more than a few women blushed.

The undressing and dressing worked as it did when you took your pants down and put them back on. Nothing special.

 

"Cheval, would you like to try exposing my lovely aide sometime?"

Cheval looked at me skeptically. She approached Mariette and tried to pull down the thong.

Tried. Pure astonishment and amazement stood out wherever I looked.

 

"My latest invention ladies, underwear that can only be removed by the wearer. I imagine you're not completely convinced yet. But fortunately for us, the captain and the pervert have been obliging enough to make themselves available for a real test. Captain Klien, de Mitchcombe, you may both come on stage. We require your services."

 

Klien came out from behind the screen in slow, careful steps. The trembling Michaele in tow.

 

"Captain Klien, you may remember my adjutant? As I'm sure you noticed immediately, she wears an almost imperceptible piece of cloth as underwear. You shall try to take it off her. Come on, you're not afraid and want to back out, are you?"

 

 

The captain was cautious enough to wish he would. Fortunately, his pride was a trifle greater.

As he tried to pull the thong down he quickly withdrew his hands. His hands shook in pain.

Before my guests could burst into excitement again, I slowed them down and summoned Michaele to the stage.

 

De Mitchcombe possessed no pride. But fear would do the same.

"Well, pervert, if you don't give your utmost to rip that thong off my aide's lap, I'll break every bone in your body and castrate you publicly in the town square."

 

Maybe I should give motivational speeches.

 

De Mitchcombe tried his utmost. The electrical discharge hurled him off the stage unconscious.

 

Pandemonium pretty well sums up the condition that followed. Every woman present was interested in the lingerie. But each one DEMANDED to get such a thong.

 

Clara ordered a wholesale quantity for the palace. Price unasked.

 

It's not every day that I invent an anti-rape thong. Well, that was at least one of the features I had built in.

 

I had no trouble getting such underwear off next to the wearer. Hard wired in magic. A villainess has her tricks.

The whores and Cheval loved the idea. Ultra sexy lingerie to fire up the customers and then the underwear comes down only after the gold was on the table. No more carousing in the pleasure house. My standing with the whores had risen above mere gratitude to downright reverence. I had to be careful not to let it go to my head.

 

Cheval received an invitation to my bed for the night. With the information she would be able to feel her poor butt for days to come. The cook had bought too much ginger at the market. And I had a use in mind.

 

Clara thanked me especially for my invitation. Apparently it is a bigger problem for her to constantly lose the female servants due to pregnancy.

 

Honestly, I was more interested in the turmoil among the men in the palace when it suddenly became significantly harder to pounce on the female servants. Certainly a slight frustration would set in. Some malicious glee set in when I agreed with Clara and Cheval that the maids would report who was harassing them and the whore guild would move the men to the high risk group at 10 times the price. I assumed any loss that would occur to my ponies.

 

In addition, the men on the list could contact either Clara or me if they felt they were wrongly on it. Poor Edward. He would be in so much trouble. Just because he could not observe the rules of decorum.

 

If he would not make an effort to solve the problem concerning his chamberlain, well I am really curious what would happen if the beggars spread the rumor that he and de Kurdal forbid my underwear in the palace.

 

The next morning I awoke wonderfully rested. Comfortably sandwiched between the nestled, snuggling Mariette and Cheval. Both correctly gagged and bound hands.

 

During the night I had fucked Cheval's brains out while she had to satisfy Mariette with her tongue.

 

Both looked at me dreamily and happy after I woke up.

 

"Mistress, you are the best. No man has ever taken me as hard as you. My ass still feels like it has a burning wick in it. Thank you for spoiling me like this, my mistress."

 

I am very particular about who I allow to call me mistress. I am even more particular about who may call me "my mistress". I attach several conditions to this honor and I am fair enough to tell my slave beforehand what she is getting into. My finger on her lips I explained that I still had to teach her a few things before she earned this honor.

I was also missing something that was imperative. By now I knew how to make it, but had not yet found the time.

 

I have the tradition to mark "my" slaves. And I just did not have yet what I needed for this.

 

For today I had another important meeting. And it was not about stamps.

 

I met with several ladies and gentlemen whose business usually included a lot of overland travel. No, not traders at all. Although the income of these ladies and gentlemen depended to a large extent on them.

 

I would call them roadmen. After all, Mitoran has no highways worthy of the name. Highwayman did not strike me as a job title. Maybe bandits.

 

It is only natural for road thugs to become highwaymen when their source of income now uses highways instead of paths. This was not in the least in my interest.

As it happens, I owned a not insignificant number of slaves who, before they started building my highways, had no success as road thugs. But, of course, still knew people. People I could meet with, for example. To discuss things.

 

The Casa della mamma lent itself to such a meeting. The food was also excellent.

 

The meal took place in a pleasant, relaxed atmosphere. The chats were about generalities and trivialities. Not what one would have expected from road thugs. One conversation was even about how the children were doing.

 

I raised my glass, of course glass if I produce the stuff I should eventually use it, and spoke "Ladies and gentlemen. Everyone knows the country has a leak. Everyone knows the nobility lied. Everybody feels broken. None of you would voluntarily pursue your occupation if you didn't have to in order to feed yourselves. And at that, your business is dangerous and not really lucrative. If you allow me to ask, what is the average annual income in your business? Is it more than a thousand gold pieces?"

 

No way. Not like the demolished bunch was gorging themselves on my food.

 

"Ha. That was a good one! A thousand gold pieces a year! That would be dreamy. Maybe 250 gold pieces. In an exceptional case, maybe 500, for the whole damn bunch."

 

With a raised eyebrow, I asked "You're kidding? Is it? For that kind of money, it's almost not worth getting up and risking your life."

 

The grim expressions spoke a different language.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen. This amount is downright ridiculous. Perhaps you will be interested in my proposal?"

 

The party gestured for me to continue.

 

"Thank you very much for your confidence. As you may know, I plan to have asphalted highways laid all over the country and beyond. My highways. They will be fast, comfortable and safe. Every 10 to 15 kilometers there will be a rest house to eat, change horses, repair damage and sleep. Everyone who uses my highways will pay me through the trade guild. Everyone is welcome to continue using the old roads, I don't care about them in the least."

 

I took a sip of wine before continuing.

 

"You understand, of course, that my business model only works if these highways are used?"

 

General thoughtful nodding rewarded my question.

 

"But the use must be paid for, of course. Otherwise, my concept would succeed."

 

The logic was coherent and plausible.

 

"Several problems now arise. For me as an entrepreneur. But also very much for you. You must be wondering, why for me?"

 

Yes, I had yet to pick up my audience at this point.

 

"Once the merchants who are your main source of income start using my highways because they're just faster and better, your business will go out of business."

 

I looked at horrified faces as the scope became apparent to them. As always, there was also someone who offered a quick solution.

 

"Then we'll just ..."

 

My raised hand stopped the verbal spread of this idea.

 

"Of course, you could all try to attract the merchants on MY highways as income. A logical step. With one flaw. I assure the users of MY highways of protection from robbery. An insurance policy on my part if you will. You may know that I have already acquired a certain reputation for being very permissive with slave collars. Any bandit or highwayman I can catch will be enslaved without a fuss and used to lay my highways. You understand, it makes no sense to me if bandits and road thugs become highwaymen."

 

That may have been a bit harsh of me.

 

"But it also doesn't make sense to me to have you all become unemployed and without income. Perhaps you would prefer to consider a job change? I offer a good salary, vacation, benefits, opportunities for advancement, and a small pension when you retire."

 

The solution provider was the first to regain his courage. Or maybe he was just the first to recover.

 

"What do we need to do and what would we earn?"

 

Focus on what's important is what I value in negotiations.

 

"Graduated by rank, everyone gets 5, 10 and 25 gold pieces per week. So a current boss gets around 1475 gold pieces a year. So almost three times what previously a highly successful group would earn in total." ³What? Do the math yourself if you dont believe me. The calculation is sound.

 

"What you have to do for that? Well relatively simple. You will do an honorable job. An honest job. You will be loyal to your employer, meaning me. Each of you will wear my uniform. You will check everyone who moves on my highways to see if the tolls have been paid and report violations. You will check if the freight papers are correct. You report damage to the highway. You keep highway robbers away. In short, you become a customs officer."

 

I further add " I don't care if you drive away muggers, kill them, enslave them, or offer them a job. As long as no one robs my customers I don't care about the means. I'm the only one who robs my customers."

 

It's nice when a punch line ignites. A laugh is worth a thousand words. And the whole room laughed out loud. A good audience. Thank you very much.

 

And no, I had NOT recreated the largest government criminal organization. Customs is a very honorable institution. In which everyone wears a uniform. It is pure coincidence that my first customs officers before were all road thugs.⁴In fact, customs officers are still considered robbers and bandits to this day. Even when they wear uniforms.