The Noblewoman's Humiliation (Patreon)

The sergeant is not even close to your height, but she’s quite a large woman. Probably in her mid-thirties at least. Unlike your lovely, slender figure, she’s a stout five feet of thick muscle and curves. A lot of curves, actually. Her rough regular soldier’s clothes do very little to hide her shockingly large bust and hips. No doubt she’s a predator. You’ve heard common soldiers indulge in such base behavior, after all. How vulgar.

But the worst part of her appearance is her eyebrows. Thick and bushy, drawing your eye away from her dour pale face. She’s not ugly, mind… Actually, the sergeant could almost be considered handsome… if she wasn’t a peasant. And therefore caked in dirt and blood and gods-knew what else.

“If you can see that I’m a knight…” You tease out the word, really giving it some emphasis for this woman’s apparently slow brain. Placing your hand on your rather flat chest, you look down your nose at the older woman. “Then you should know better than to speak to someone like me with such a tone. I’m your superior, fool.”

Gods, what kind of army was this? A big one, obviously. After all, the camp around you seems to stretch on forever. No wonder you’d gotten a bit lost. It’s not your fault, as if anything ever could be. With a pretty face, and long curly blonde hair, you know you’re beautiful. And between your beauty and the blue blood that runs in your veins, you know you’re destined for greatness...