Part 7 recounts the escape of the Incan traitors as they flee Cori Huay Rachina in the great Landship Warricka. They are on their way to rendezvous with Generalissimo Pizarro. The Incan traitors have captured (and have in tow) Urpi Nayaraq, the former High Priestess, and two young priestesses, all of whom are beautiful, desirable and scantily clad as well as being skilled seductresses. The leader of the traitors, the Great Warlord Curaca, intends to use the women as barter with the Spaniards, the so-called white devils, and as the means of freeing his men from their hated chastity. Only a holy woman can release an Incan brave from his enforced chasteness. Until then, he must learn to control his arousal, fight his libido and erections, and serve the women of Cori Huay Rachina well. But, Curaca and his fellow traitors want to be men again. To sport stiff dicks. And to poke women when and where they want. The traitors attack and overwhelm an Incan outpost and put its defenders quickly to the sword. And then scuttle the Landship Warricka and trek overland in the scrubby bush of the upland-jungle in search of Pizarro. Pizarro and his men are a force to be reckoned with. A full contingent of conquistadores, several canon and hundreds of mercenary Indians. The Generalissimo intends to get what he the downfall of Cori Huay Rachina. Generalissimo Pizarro is pleased to see Curaca. But, he does not trust him or his men. He has no respect for the natives. They are not civilized or indeed worthy of either the Crown or the Church. But, he is immediately intrigued by the women. The Spanish General admits to himself that they did not look Indian. They have refined features, long-legs and a light complexion. Almost European. And are scantily clad. Mother of God! Showing off their figures, their curves, their wares. He felt the pull immediately. On his loins. His masculinity. The Incan holy women were indeed focusing their sexuality and allure onto the great Spanish general. With the intent of stirring him. They pull him relentlessly towards the juncture of their lovely legs. Towards the center of all creation. Towards his dreams. Towards his fantasies. Towards their fine tight pussies. The Generalissimo slowly withers under their spell. He is helpless and reacts as males must react to females. None of that could stop the inevitable. A struggle ensues. Between Spanish masculinity and Incan womanhood. Between the mores of Church and the sexual commands of the Moon Goddess. Between a male brute and refined womanhood. It is a chess game on a board of unrefined sexuality. Males teased by females. Men manipulated by their desire for the pleasure that resides between the legs of women. The former High Priestess rolls the dice and takes on the challenge of the obnoxious Generalissimo. One brave woman playing a beast of a man. She soon has him self-pleasuring in front of his men as she lifts her tunic and displays the treasure he so greatly prizes. She bends him to her will, using her feminine wiles and ways. And her beauty. She humiliates him. And controls him. She hardens his manliness and softens his mind ... and eviscerates his resistance. And, places the Spanish general surprisingly into chastity. The great beast protests. He does not want chasteness. The former High Priestess is firm with him. Alas, she miscalculates and grossly underestimates the great wickedness and brutality of the Spaniard. The Generalissimo sheds blood. Suddenly. Horribly. Copiously. And without mercy. The traitors and their women meet cold, hard, tempered blades. Knives and swords. The treason ends. The hopes of freedom of the captive priestesses end. The Moon Goddess sheds a tear at the loss of Incan life. But the Church and Crown remain within her cross-hairs. Womanhood will flourish. Womanhood will rise up.