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The Women Play While Geralt's Away

Chapter Text




These were difficult days in Novigrad. A city once renowned for being prosperous and free was increasingly neither. With each passing day the Witch Hunters tightened their grip over the city’s politics. The war economy was exacting its toll, with thousands of formerly middle-class citizens being pushed into poverty. Countless refugees from Velen had entered the city with only the rags on their backs, which crowded the already dismal slums. For the men, this often meant thievery or street begging. For the women?


Lower class women infested the alleyways, begging for anyone to plough them. It was the only skill they had which was in demand, after all. The going rates for street whores had plummeted, with most only asking for a few crowns, but it remained just enough to eke out a living with. It was certainly not a good time to be a lower-class woman in Novigrad. Most, however, thought the rich were still doing well.

They were not.

Most of the upper-class women of the city were either the wives of business owners, or sorceresses and enchantresses. With their husband’s businesses often pulling in far less revenue than before the war, many of the women in the entrepreneurial community had turned to “private calls” with the rich and powerful in order to supplement their income. Many men were willing to pay high fees to sleep with the wives of Novigrad’s well known businessmen, after all. As for the magical community? They fared even worse. After the rise of the Witch Hunters, they had to abandon their former livelihoods and homes en masse.

This brings us to Triss Merigold, one of the most beautiful women in all the known kingdoms. Many men had dreamed of slapping her tight ass or fondling her enormous breasts, and if you were a member of the Temerian Court or a Witcher, then you probably already had. After all, Triss was not exactly stingy when it came to sleeping around. Every man in Kaer Morhen had taken dozens of turns inside her, even Vesemir. Especially Vesemir. However, since her arrival in Novigrad she had put that lifestyle aside and focused on making money through enchanting and magical work. In the last month, though, she’d been forced to close shop. All her business partners were either in hiding or burned at the stake, and no one in Novigrad would be caught dead purchasing magical services now.

With little money left and forced to keep a low profile, Triss suddenly was no longer a powerplayer in the city. She hated that feeling. Her, a former advisor to the Temerian king himself, a nobody? She would not allow it. Especially not when she needed money to help save mages and put a roof over her head. So, with that all in mind, Triss decided that she would use a very different form of enchanting to gain funding and spin the city’s men around her fingers.  





“Oh my god Dijkstra, get it even deeper!” cried Triss. “Your cock feels so damn amazing!”

Triss was currently on her hands and knees. Her location? The grand bathing tub of the Novigrad underworld’s most powerful boss.  The water was hot, but shallow, only rising about a foot. It gave Sigismund Dijkstra plenty of space to pound into the hottest and wettest thing in the tub, Triss’ vagina. Her legs were splayed out, her ass pushed up, and her hair was loose. Dijkstra held long, thick strands of it in his hands, using her hair to command Triss like a man commands a horse. He was thrusting as hard as possible, sending waves through the water.

“You………”, Dijkstra’s voice hitched as he struggled to not cum early. “-are the most wanton slut I’ve ever met. Aren’t you in a relationship with Geralt right now?”

Triss' moans were cut short for just a moment.

"Not......ooooooohhhhh............ exactly" ,she managed to say. Then she began moaning again, even more loudly. 


Prior to meeting with Dijkstra, Triss knew that she would need a good plan. The man was no fool, as he had made clear with his years in the Redanian intelligence service.  She knew that she had very little to offer him that could make him cough up the money she needed. So how would she, with hardly any leverage, get what she needed?


Triss knew Dijkstra’s flaws very well. The man felt that he was better and smarter than most, and more often than not he was correct.  His weak spot, of course, was Geralt. Geralt had broken Dijkstra’s leg, fucked the woman he fell in love with, and foiled many of his plans. At this point, it was quite obvious that Dijkstra’s biggest insecurity was how Geralt made him feel stupid and emasculated. Triss was currently “with” Geralt, so she knew that her services offered Dijkstra something he couldn’t get from any other woman, and that was a chance to regain some pride and exact revenge. Triss intended to exploit that as much as she could.



Dijkstra couldn’t hold it in any longer. The tip of his dick exploded with semen, spraying it all around Triss’ womb.  Triss smirked to herself; he had lasted less than ten minutes inside her.

“No wonder Geralt keeps coming back to you,” panted Dijkstra. “Your cunt is one of the seven wonders of Redania! How on earth is it so tight?”

Dijkstra took a moment to recover, then seated himself on the tub’s ledge. His body was enormous, both in height and in weight. He was easily one of the fattest creatures Triss had fucked, save for a few rock trolls.

“I have my ways of keeping it tight.” Triss whispered.  She slowly moved towards him and sat on his lap.  Water dripped off both of their bodies as she pressed her large bosom towards his mouth.

Dijkstra fell into a trance for a moment, but then seemed to come to his senses for a bit. Something didn’t feel right here.

“Why are you even here, Merigold? Why are you doing this?”, he inquired. “That was wonderful and all, but I assume you have an ulterior motive.”

Triss hesitated for a moment, then looked him deep in the eyes. She knew she'd have to put on her best skills to sell him on this.

“Dijkstra, I have to confess something. Geralt…..Geralt is just not doing it for me anymore. He’s always away, and even when he’s here he just talks about that whore Yennefer. He hasn’t fucked me in months, and he can hardly even get it up anymore. Keeps saying that he feels tired from all those Witcher contracts. I knew you were big and so tall. I just decided that I needed to get dick from a real man, not whatever Geralt is right now.” Triss made herself blush, and then leaned in to kiss Dijkstra. As their tongues twisted together, Triss was calculating. Did he buy it? They lingered there for a moment, intertwined. When he pulled away, she saw a massive smirk on his face.

“So let me get this straight.”, said Dijkstra, with great amusement. “Geralt is impotent now? And you, his prize bitch, wants me to satisfy her?”

“Well...... yes.” Triss said, doing her best to feign slight embarrassment. “When you were pounding me from behind, it made me feel like a woman again, Dijkstra. You’re the biggest, tallest man I know, and I had you all to myself.” She hesitated for a moment, then put her wet lips right to his ear. “And your cock is a lot thicker and longer than his.”

Triss suddenly felt something hard against her leg. Dijkstra was back at full mast, and he was giving her the most arrogant, egotistical look she’d ever seen. It worked.

“I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship, Triss. Geralt might be a pansy little bitch, but I can give you what you need.”, he said with glee. He roughly pushed her back into the tub, took her by the hair, and pushed his cock as far into her mouth as he possibly could. He spent several minutes roughing her throat up, throwing taunts at an imaginary Geralt the whole way through.

Feeling spontaneous, he popped his dick out her mouth suddenly then started fucking her breasts. Triss’ chest was famous across the world, as it was rare to see a size zero waist with such voluptuous knockers attached to it. "Triss' Titans" were well known to the old Temerian nobility. She had been a real favorite in the court, especially among the married men. This was Dijkstra's first time though, and he came multiple times on them, relishing the sight of his semen on her pale tits. "I know for certain that Geralt can't cover tits that large." he muttered.

After getting his fill of that, he picked her up and threw her down on the tub ledge. He slapped her ass two dozen times, eliciting sharp yelps from Triss. He then inserted himself into her arse, and slammed into her bottom as hard as he could as she bent over the tub’s ledge. He wanted to feel powerful, and she filled that itch. Every one of her pleasured, slightly garbled cries gave him the message he wanted. I’m better than Geralt, look at the way I have this bitch. My cock has her unable to even form a sentence.

As he felt his stamina fading, he decided he would get a drink. He opened up a bottle of wine and took out two glasses, but only filled one. Triss reached for a glass, and he gave her the empty one. He wanted to assert his dominance one last time.

He commanded her drink the semen filled tub water. Triss, without the slightest hesitation, scooped up a full glass of the stuff. At this point it was slightly creamy from the semen, and the milk that left her breasts. She drank it, all the same. “Would you do this for Geralt?”, he asked. “No,” replied Triss, “but I’ll do it for you. Your semen is much sweeter, to be honest.” It felt incredibly cheesy to say such a thing, but Triss did it all the same. She knew it was working on him. Through it all, he matched her gulp for gulp, using wine instead. By the end of the marathon session he was drunk off both power and alcohol. Dijkstra had never felt more alive, and more agreeable. I just cucked Geralt. I just cucked Geralt of goddamn Rivia. His own bitch craves me.

Triss pulled herself out the tub and gave him her sweetest smile. Her body was coated in Dijkstra's water, semen and sweat. 

“Before I go, can I ask something of you?”



Triss walked out the bathhouse with a pouch bursting of coin. “That was like taking candy from a baby.”, she muttered contentedly. She now had coin, and one of Novigrad’s major bosses wrapped around her finger. Her next target? The King of Beggars.


























Chapter Text

Keira Metz and the Peasant Cock


A sharp rapping on the door made Keira grimace.

Great, another call to duty for the peasants of Midcopse.

She rose from her seat and began to walk over, consumed by self-pity and repressed lust. 

Ever since she'd fled the Witch Hunters, she'd spent her time in the rundown village. In order to earn some money, she'd taken to doing trivial tasks for the peasants. On some days she'd brew healing drinks and on others she would charm crops. It was monotonous, especially when Keira was used to a life full of glamour and pomp. Only one year back, she'd have spent her time scheming with The Lodge or participating in wild Novigrad orgies. The former was of particular importance to her, as she was a genuine nymphomaniac. Most sorceresses would be able to go a few days without sex, but she wasn't like the rest. No, for her it was a need, a compulsion. When the lust struck her, she could sometimes be compared to a succubus. Yet, when all the men in Velen were as smelly and ugly as they were, what was she to do? 

Keira reached the door and pushed it open. Before her stood a villager and a lone chicken. The man was in his mid-thirties, had a long, unkempt beard, and reeked of piss. Though these were the standard traits of a Velen man, he also stood six feet tall, and had decently muscular arms. The man looked her over, then gave her a toothy grin. 

"I need you to take care of my cock, missus."

Her mouth fell agape for a moment, before she realized what he meant. 

"Ah, you want me to help the chicken? Yes, bring it inside."

She recovered from her lapse and turned sharply, putting her professional demeanor back on. Yet, even as she got to work, she could not remove the lusty thoughts from her mind. 


"Alright, I administered three droplets of the brew to him. Give him two days rest and a cool shower on the third. After that, he'll be fine." Keira said as she finished with her task. The chicken let out a few beleaguered squawks, as if to approve of her diagnosis.   

"Aye, missus, I will. What do I owe ye?" The man inquired. 

Keira looked him over. She'd read his mind while she had taken care of the chicken. The man, as with all the other men in the village, had some very lewd thoughts towards her. He'd fantasized about ripping her dress off and bending her over the table during the entire visit. However, unlike the other men, he actually had some promise. 

If I'm going to spend an extended amount of time in this village, I need to make arrangements to secure my own well-being. Perhaps he can help. 

She looked him dead in the eye. 

"I'm going to need you to strip naked." She said.

The man began to protest, but cut his sentence off as Keira walked towards him. She got right into his face and let him ingest the scent of her sweet perfumes. 

"Do it. Firstly, you owe me. Secondly, you never know what could happen...."

He backed away, enticed by the promise in her voice, then began to strip. Piece by piece, the peasant rags came off. Soon, he stood naked as a baby, baring his full body for her. His cock was a proud nine inches, and it was fully erect. His figure was muscular and tanned from long days in the field. Keira had to do everything in her power to stop herself from sucking him off right there and then.

Think with your brain, not your vagina.

She collected her thoughts, then pointed a stern finger towards a razor. 

"I want you to shave that facial hair right off, then get rid of the pubic hair too. After you finish that, go into my bath and apply the soaps to yourself. Soak every bit of your body in the water. I need you to be clean. After you finish, get out the tub and come back to me."

Before he could even ask a question, she let her dress slip off her shoulders and stood before him in her lacy white lingerie. His cock twitched excitedly, and he turned around to fulfill her requests. 


Keira watched the transformed peasant fumble around in the tub. Once he was fully shaved, he looked quite decent, she thought. Still, he betrayed his lowborn status. He simply did not know how to use a tub, or a bar of soap. Her impatience and lust grew exponentially as she watched him bumble around the tub. 

I'm so close to finally getting some cock! I cannot let this man delay me any longer because he doesn't know how to soap and rinse. 

She walked over to the tub's edge and stripped off her remaining undergarments. Her naked figure stood above the man, feminine and small, yet imposing in its very perfection. The man stared at her, completely starstruck, and dropped the soap in the tub. 

"Must I do everything?" Keira quipped. She climbed into the tub with him and grabbed the soap from the bottom. With soap in hand, she began to lather every inch of his body. It was a long process, as he was quite dirty. He let out grunts as she touched him, struggling to refrain from pushing her legs open and taking her right there. Keira continued along his body, intent on having a clean man to fuck. However, as she continued to touch him and his cock rubbed along her wet body, she felt the last remains of her self control slipping away. 

Keira, you haven't had any dick in weeks. Seize the moment before it slips through your fingers!  

She cast one final look at the soap in her hands, then flung it to the side. It could wait. She grabbed his erect girth by the base, lined herself up above it, and sank down. 


Their voices mingled together as they fulfilled their pent up urges. Keira sheathed the cock deep within her opening, letting it punch as far into her as it could. She loved the feeling of taking a penis all the way to its hilt, and this peasant, simple though he was, could do the job. As their bodies joined together, the man reached up to grab her bobbing breasts. He gripped them tightly, almost akin to a man trying to not fall off a horse. His vice-like grip on her soft tits would usually hurt, but Keira was too deep in her lust to care.

His face reddened as her slick, sweet cunt sheathed his cock over and over, like a knight putting a well oiled sword in its sleeve. She continued to bounce along its length, letting out wild moans of pleasure all the way through. She began bouncing so hard that the dirty water sloshed over the rim of the tub, leaving evidence of their dirty sexual tryst along the floor of the hut. The peasant let out agitated groans, trying to make her slow down, but Keira was too far gone to listen. She only increased her pace, slapping their wet flesh together at a stunning speed. Then, as soon as it began, it ended. Semen flooded into her in uncontrolled spurts. Keira looked down at the man, almost betrayed. He hadn't been able to deal with constraining, tight wetness of her quim, and the fun for the day had ended early. The man's head fell backwards, and his softened cock slipped out from within her. 


After they both dressed, Keira issued to the man a set of orders. He was to come back to her hut twice a day for sex. In return for her pussy, he would remain shaven, clean, and silent about the entire matter. And, of course, she had also promised to teach him to last longer in bed. She let out a wry smile as he limped away, exhausted by the way she'd drained his cock. Sure, he was a work in progress, but he'd have to do. 



Chapter Text

Shani's Sexual Healing



"Where exactly is the pain, Captain?"

The burly, fifty year old Captain gestured down towards his crotch. 

"Took a mighty hit here a few days back, still ain't feeling quite right. Was wondering if you could work your magic on it for me."

Shani dragged her dainty index across his crotch and cocked her head upwards. 

"For you, of course! Come upstairs, I think I have just the thing you need...."


Shani, being the university educated girl that she was, knew that absolutely nothing was wrong with the man's crotch. As he walked up the stairs she observed his gait, which was entirely normal. A man that took a severe hit to his testicles would never be able to walk with such ease. 


No, it was clearly just another officer looking to plough her. Luckily for them, she was not one to object. Her willingness to sleep with the soldiers she cared for had been mostly due to lack of opportunity. She had very little time to socialize nowadays, as she spent most of her time caring for the wounded at her clinic. That meant that the vast majority of people that she met on a daily basis were the injured higher-ups of the Redanian military that were stationed in Oxenfurt. After a few weeks, some of the men decided to make their moves on the gorgeous redhead, and they found that the lonely medic was more receptive to their advances than they could've ever imagined. With each passing day, more men showed up to her doorstep. 


The moment that they entered the room, the officer pushed his pants off. Shani was greeted by the sight of five inches of erect flesh, standing tall amidst a dense clump of graying pubic hair. The man stood tall, facing her with military posture, and waited to see what she would do. 

Shani gave him a coy grin. 

So now they want to fuck without even asking? I think I'll have some fun with this one. 

"Ah yes, I see the problem area sir. My dearest condolences to you, no man deserves to feel pain in such a tender place. Especially not a good man of the Redanian Army!" 

With that, she walked over to him and took his hand, then led him to her personal bed. He laid back against it roughly before turning to her expectantly.

Shani got to her knees and lowered her plush lips to within one inch of his member, but did not touch it. Her hot, moist breath ran along it, but that was as much as he got.  Instead, from her pocket she produced a small vial. She dipped a piece of cotton into the liquid, then quickly dabbed it over his cock and ballsack. With that, she stood up. 

"That should do the trick for any bruising you've got. Within 24 hours the pain should recede. Anything else?" 

She gave him a look of pure innocence and awaited his response. 

The grizzled veteran gave her a stony look of contempt for a few moments, but then let out a short bark of a laugh. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her body right onto the bed, rubbing his cock along her white stockings as her body aligned with his. He put his mouth right up to her ear. 

"Anything else? Anything else? Missy, you are a sly one, aintcha? Didn't your parents teach you to not play with your food?" 

He roughly shoved his palm beneath her skirt, where he felt moistened undergarments. His voice lowered to a hoarse whisper.

"I came here to plough you senseless lass. I'm gonna open that pussy up so much that every other man you lay with will know I've been in there. I'm about to break this god damn bed with your body. You're gonna have more fackin cum in ya than there's water in the Pontar."

Shani giggled and planted a quick kiss on his lips. 

"Well, that sounds wonderful! Why didn't you just tell me that before?"

In one quick motion she flung her panties to the floor and threw her legs apart. 





Shani had worked herself into a powerful lust, and all she could do was some variation of these three things. The vigorous old captain had pinned her, missionary style, into her own bed. Sweat rolled from his body in waves, leaving her slick, covered in his juices. He held his right hand against her dainty left breast, kneading it painfully and erotically. The nipple was hard, sensitive, and under direct pressure. Each push of his palm sent a jolt of throbbing stimulation to her nether regions. His other hand had found its way to her bum. He spit on his thumb, then shoved it into her puckered, sensitive asshole. 

Shani began to scream, but was muted as he leaned in for a kiss. Their mouths collided and tongues mingled. Shani's normally sharp brain reverted to a primal state as he kept his promise and ploughed her senseless. 

Mate with him. M-mhhh-mate with this wonderful, wonderful man. Get his semen, ohhhhhh.....

The majority of the work he was doing was with his cock. From the moment that he saw Shani's fleshy cunt, he knew it was where he'd spend his time. It was about the length of an index finger, and a very light shade of pink. In contrast with her lithe, thin body, the lips of her vagina were plush and thick. The labia protruded outwards, begging to be toyed with. He knew that he wanted to leave his mark on it. With determined thrusts of his middle aged hips, he thumped deep into her. Each slam down brought a mewl from her lips, and each pull back came with increased amounts of their shared creams. Shani trembled, and felt a ripping orgasm course through her. Her face and hair became an indistinguishable shade of red as her muscles convulsed around his member, begging it to put a baby inside her. The man knew he couldn't hold much longer. He put both hands around her neck, drew his cock out, and gave one final thrust. 


A small fissure opened in the bed frame as their pelvises collided, but neither paid it any attention. The man slumped forward onto Shani, convulsing as his entire ballsack drained into her. He lowered his lips towards Shani, and the two met for an exhausted, lengthy kiss as the last few spurts of semen coursed into her ovaries. She kept her hands on his butt, ensuring not a drop got on the floor. As they broke their kiss, she looked at him in query. 

"Was my medical care satisfactory sir? My special cure for pelvic pain has never failed before."

He nodded curtly. 

"You served your nation well today Shani. I'm going to come in for a few more checkups though, just to make sure it's truly cured. Keep supporting the troops like that and you may just find yourself in line for a promotion." 

With that, he pulled away, threw on his clothes, and walked out the door, leaving behind a sweaty, cum-filled, and utterly enthralled redhead.