All Three, Together

With a start, Cecilia half sat up. Over the course of however long it had been since she had been put to sleep, the blizzard had not ceased. Battering and roaring against the outside of the homestead, she nevertheless felt warmed through. To her core. A faint hint of sweat on her forehead, even, remaining between the two large norn women, both of whom had rolled onto their backs, lying on either side of her, shoulders and arms and legs still close, pressing against her here and there, but no longer impressing themselves upon her quite to the same degree that she vaguely recalled them doing the night before.

The massive, furry blanket still covered all three of them, and its various curves and bulges across bodies not only suggested the strength of the two norn, but also that Cecilia had not imagined what she had seen the night before. Had not hallucinated the feeling of dormant, weighty dick pressing against her thigh. Overly forward, perhaps, but norn culture was different about such things. And, really, it was hard to be terribly annoyed with her two saviors, at least while they both apparently slept, judging by their slow, heavy breathing. They saved her, and warmed her, and if the price was a little grinding of one of those absurdly thick monsters, it seemed a small price to pay. Even smaller for the fact that she would have freely spent a night with one of the two even if circumstances had been less dire, had she been given the chance. Two might be too much, but, blizzard still ongoing, and them having taken her in, there was really little else to do than experiment. When would another such chance come?

For a time, though, Cecilia was content to lie between the two, both on their back, both breathing slowly, audibly, in their sleep. And, having rolled just a little away from her, the consistent, almost burning heat of them was somewhat more tolerable. Outside, she might have almost died of the cold. Spending a considerable amount of time squeezed between the two, as she may just, there seemed a real possibility that she might succumb to heatstroke. If she did not pass out from that obscene girth, first. She had, the first time she had been with one of their kind, and though that norn had been less blessed than but one of the two redheads, she imagined she might just about be able to handle them. They had saved her once, after all – if they were too much for her, they would surely stop.

Cecilia ducked beneath the covers, shamelessly appraising the physique of her saviors. She had seen some of their kind so deprived of fat that they appeared almost parched, somehow, skin odd and leathery, not a hint of padding, of a life lived and enjoyed, on them. These two, not so. Clearly possessed of the enormous, surely magically-supported strength of their kin, and built accordingly, but not quite so lean that every single muscle stood out at all times. To the extent that women well over eight feet tall could be both cozy and carved from marble into pleasant, living statues, the two were. Strong thighs. Arms. Broad chests, their considerable breasts rolled aside as they lay there.

The finest, and yet most beastly part of each norn, could be seen, just, between their powerful thighs. A truly mind-bending girth, at the base, both of those monsters still dormant, and yet near reaching the knee. Something beyond what Cecilia had ever seen before, clothed or up close, and, if she were honest with herself, with the little, cool, jittery sphere in her stomach, perhaps too much for her. A single one of the two comparative giants would be. But, and she would never have ascribed herself such thoughts before her assignment to norn lands, she wanted the challenge. She wanted the joyous brutality, the obscene size. The norn gave her a kind of satisfaction she could never have found at home, so much so that she never even imagined, back then, that she could have wanted it. But she did, now. Her eyes feasted, and her breath halted, as she consumed the visuals without daring to reach out and touch.

Cecilia righted herself, laying back. Waited. Stared up at the solid beams above, the roof somehow having survived the no doubt cataclysmic and still growing dunes of snow heaped upon it. Heaped upon the landscape as a whole. It did not take long for her thoughts to slip her control, however, focus drifting from lumber, imaginary, strong hands instead grasping her hips, and pressing her down to take something unreasonably thick to the last possible fraction of an inch. A warm, strong form pushing against her. She closed her eyes, breathed in, and let the air seep from her lips, shuddering as she did so. Minutes passed, that way. Perhaps half an hour.

The two awoke almost in the same instant. One, the one with the braid, the one who had found Cecilia in the snowstorm and led her to the homestead, was the first to come to. The other one, the same almost blood-red hair, shoulder length and loose, followed less than a minute later. Comfortable silence reigned for long moments – at least, Cecilia assumed it was comfortable for the norn. Her stomach still insisted on nurturing that ball of yarn and icicles, some pointed, cold needle occasionally jutting out to stab her from the inside. Even the warmth of the two norn was not enough to melt that ball of worry, condensed and stubborn as it was. She had not really shared a word with them, after all. The possibility that they were less than wholesome remained. Perhaps she had been a fool not to get dressed again, not to sneak back outside, to disappear in the blizzard once again?

A long, slightly strained groan came from the braided norn as she stretched, arms above her head. She seemed not to care one whit that she was naked and sharing a blanket with a comparatively tiny human, rather focused on being comfortable. She turned, then, to lie on her side. Green eyes settling on Cecilia’s face, a mellow smile curling pale lips.

“You’re awake,” the norn said.

“Thanks to you,” Cecilia said. Almost embarrassed at the memories of the prior evening, afternoon, whatever time of day it had been in the endless storm. “I’m Cecilia. Of the Lionguard.”

“Cecilia. Very Krytan name,” the braided norn said. “I’m Idun. And that lump, on your other side, is Mette.”

For but a moment, Cecilia pursed her lips. Cast a glance over her shoulder. Idun had pronounced her odd name like ee-done, almost. “Well, I… really should thank you both. I shouldn’t have been out there, certainly not alone. But you saved me. Warmed me up.” Cecilia spoke those last three words with a devious plan taking shape in her mind. Before they could all get too wrapped up in being nice and polite and understanding and civilized to and with each other, she had to seize the opportunity fate granted her.

“Why did you run?”

Cecilia lowered her eyes in mock embarrassment. Or, rather, the shame was real enough, but lowering her eyes allowed her another thorough look at the norn’s strong core, the furry blanket having slipped down her form to about the navel. “You’ll think me stupid, I’m afraid,” she said.

“Blizzards do strange things, if you aren’t used to them,” Mette said, her tone understanding, from behind.

Idun nodded. “Even if you are. Sounds, shapes.”

With an attempt at lightening her own feeling of embarrassment, Cecilia puffed something like a chuckle out with a breath through her nose. “I thought you were a wolf, at first. The fur. And then, I thought, you have those shaman that can turn into wolf-people, no? I thought maybe…”

“Wolf cares for his pack. He doesn’t hunt lone Lionguard,” Idun said. She seemed not even to register Cecilia’s experience as embarrassing.

When their eyes met once more, though, she seemed very much to have noticed where the comparatively small human’s eyes had found rest. Said nothing, though she raised one eyebrow just so, as if prompting Cecilia to ascertain her interest in some way.

“You’re warm enough?” Idun patted the fur blanket, which Cecilia still held up near her chin.

“I’m rather cold, actually. Not… like last night,” Cecilia said. All subtlety abandoned. “When you warmed me.” She pulled the blanket up further, bunching it up under her chin, curling her legs as if she were trying to conserve as much body heat as possible. “Really cold. You could both wrap your arms around me, though, that’d make me feel much better. In no time at all, I’m sure.”

A moment passed.

“I was always told that humans were small, but devious,” Idun said.

“But you’re see-through like a mountain stream,” Mette continued.

“Can’t blame me for trying, can you?” Cecilia offered a slight, apologetic smile. She rolled around to lie on her left side, displaying her hopefully pleasing visage to Mette. The homesteader.

A hand, terribly gentle, terribly careful, was placed upon her hip. Atop the heavy blanket, from the other side. Idun. Cecilia did not ignore it, exactly, she even tried to raise herself a little to meet it in as subtle a movement as she could muster, but neither did she turn to ask Idun to go on. To do more. Instead, she breathed in deeply, through her nose, letting her eyes parade down, and then back up Mette’s partially presented physique. Appraising. Even if the norn ostensibly was a homesteader, potentially more sedentary, she showed little sign of it. Sturdy did not adequately describe her. Much like Idun, she was clearly well-trained, but also lived well. Perhaps a little more pleasantly curved than someone like, say, the smith back in Twinspur Haven, but then, such joys had their limits.

“This place, warm, and comfortable, and well-kept. You live here?”

Mette nodded, lying on her side, right elbow supporting her head as her left hand quested for and found the fur blanket wrapped all around Cecilia, up to her chin. Two fingers curled around its edge and tugged it down, just so. Enough that her chest was revealed, smooth, pale skin, each breast a modest handful – for a norn – and crowned by pink nipples.

“Live here. Keep bees, dolyaks, fish, smithing work,” Mette said. She blew a wayward, deeply red, stray lock of hair out of her face. Tried to, at any rate, the strand soon settling back in almost the exact same spot. From which she tried to blow it away again. She seemed more focused on Cecilia’s chest, and then, green eyes shifting up, the small human’s brown eyes.

“It’s quiet. I’m tired of fighting. Went south, with the Pact. Fought Kralkatorrik,” Mette said. She nodded at Idun, behind Cecilia. “Not like her. She’s still all fire and flame.”

Cecilia lifted her head from the hand which supported it, leaning back just a little in order to catch a glance of Idun, behind her. At that slight movement, her butt bumped against the firm muscle of the other norn’s stomach. She was very close. Much closer than before. It seemed absurd that such a large woman should have been able to sneak up on Cecilia, but that seemed almost to have been the case. The hand upon her hip remained in place, but, as time went on without it being removed, fingers curled more and more, so that it less rested, more grasped.

“Are you?”

“She has her legend already,” Idun said. Cecilia caught an indication in Mette’s direction, from Idun. “I do the hunting, trapping. And if I find worthy prey, I track it, and I take it down. Slaying a great beast is an accomplishment few will forget.”

“And it’s a great way to stock blankets,” Mette quipped.

Cecilia smirked, though her attention remained on her savior, Idun, who had found her in the still raging blizzard, and brought her to the homestead. “What do you do with worthy prey?”

“Well,” Idun said. As that single word passed her lips, she, very obviously, shifted closer still, one strong thigh coming to rest against Cecilia’s legs, urging her to make room for it. She did. She still leaned her head upwards and back, somewhat awkwardly, trying to catch a glimpse of the hunter’s expression. Of her deeply green eyes. “Usually, I take it down. Bring it back here.”

“And then,” Mette said, shifting closer, too, the weighty, wide base of her shaft, still largely dormant, coming into contact with Cecilia’s flat stomach. Terribly, terribly thick. “Usually, anyway, we work together to deal with it.”

“Together?” Cecilia, increasingly boxed in by the twin norn, the worry within having slowly shifted a little upwards, squeezed by a tingling, hesitant warmth in the pit of her stomach. She wet her lips, tongue rolling over first the lower, then the upper lip, eyes lingering upon Mette all throughout. Not that the woman seemed to need much encouraging, having brazenly gotten very close, already. Almost as if she wished to display just how monstrous that shaft was, how silly the idea of it ever managing to cram into Cecilia was. Never mind two of them.

“You prefer things like that done without help?”

It was Idun, her lips so close as to almost move against Cecilia’s ear. The hunter moved, changed her position, such that Cecilia’s rump no longer squeezed against her strong core, but rather settled as a kind of modest, peachy decoration atop the hilt of that second, enormously thick dick.

“No, I…” Cecilia’s voice trailed off, halted, replaced with a simply, quiet exhalation. One of need. The two were terribly warm, and terribly insistent. And she had invited them herself – if not for her prompting, they would have been entirely civil, never an uncouth thought entering into matters at all. She has pushed them, steered them off the path that would have seen the three of them clothed, and perhaps sat around a table, now, having breakfast. Instead, both of the strong norn now pressed against her, from either side, impressing upon her body, her senses, how truly awful an idea it would be to invite them to try to fit those twin behemoths into her. And yet, she did not shrink from them. She did not bat away arms, hands, or move so as to avoid the gradual, slight grinding she felt from first one, and then the other. On the contrary. She allowed Idun to press apart her legs a little further, and allowed a second, shuddering breath to leave her.

“I… prefer, working together,” Cecilia said. What she was replying to already half-forgotten. She kept her head leaned upon her left hand, reaching for Mette’s cheek with the right. Curling comparatively small fingers around it, urging the norn closer. She leaned in, and they shared a kiss. The two, in that moment, moved closer still. Large frames dwarfing Cecilia’s, strength and weight keeping her in place. Fenced in.

The hand upon her hip slipped further down and around her, then. Idun’s other arm dug under Cecilia’s frame, curling up and around her exposed chest. With only a little, surprised yelp from the girl, the two moved, Idun rolling them in unison until she laid on her back, with Cecilia resting atop. Legs kept apart by one knee risen into an inverted v, and by the slow rise of that colossal shaft beneath her. Pounding steadily, seemingly to the rhythm of Idun’s pulse, packing on handfuls of inches of length, and several more inches of girth, too. Rising like a pillar pulled into position by a great many workers, save that it would not support some grand edifice, but rather gradually press Cecilia’s thighs apart, making room for itself between them. How she, or either of the two, proposed that the monster might fit inside her, she could not imagine. But, then, every other norn she had laid with had induced the very same thought, and yet, somehow, here she still was. Filled with memories of mindbreaking intensity and pleasure. All others, shortly, were to be dwarfed by these two. They could have been put to shame by Idun alone, but, though she now just looked on, for the moment, Mette remained. As frighteningly blessed as Idun.

“Just, ah… be… careful,” Cecilia said.

Hands just barely reaching the soft bed beneath Idun, on either side of her wide form, she balanced herself upon the norn. Thickly muscled arms wrapped around her, one about her lower stomach, one across her chest, both of them ensuring that she remained in place to receive the blessing of the norn’s might. Thighs spreading until the tendons rose against her skin, she could do nothing save sit on her wide, smoothly-veined throne, the steel firmness of its heft pushed up against her. Her pussy sat directly against that massively fat, innermost inch of the behemoth, and though she had not thought to do it, she found herself moving just so. Grinding back and forth, down, against the monster. Lips against her ear, against her cheekbone, steady but elevated breathing spilling over her skin, told her that she was not the only one engaged in that moment of insistent closeness.

“We’ll be careful,” Idun whispered in Cecilia’s ear, though there was a lurking hunger, a kind of subvocalized growling to her tone that cast doubt upon just how careful she might be. It made Cecilia lean her head towards the norn’s lips, a messy kiss then pressed upon her cheek. Stolen, really, the movement seemingly not entirely expected.

At last, Mette stirred, too. Rolled around to all fours, crawling slowly over to the pile of two, rising up on her knees between their legs. Hands found purchase between Idun’s firm body and Cecilia’s tight, modest butt, and, Idun slackening her bear-like hold around the small human’s form. A moment later, Mette lifted Cecilia’s legs and lower body up. Idun twisted just so, and that slowly pumping, massively thick monster rolled to the side, and then found a place beneath Cecilia, such that she came to rest against its underside. Felt the wide cumvein against her butt, and her back.

The reward for this effort was crude, and once more stoked both the fire in Cecilia’s stomach, and the fluttering coldness in her chest. The latter was losing, but stubbornly held on, reminding her of the impossibility with which she engaged. With which the two norn, seemingly without any kind of hesitance or scruple, likewise engaged, apparently assured that the small human would have no problem containing the two of them. Even if, by Cecilia’s measure, neither of them needed to build any legend at all. They would merely need to lower their trousers at the next moot, and then their legends would be eternal.

A hard smack momentarily filled the homestead, absorbed by tapestries, furniture, blankets, but nevertheless obvious. The heavy weight of a second, behemoth shaft found its home against Cecilia, resting and rolling against her stomach, a languid thrust pushing it ever further up her front. Until, at long last, Mette’s densely-muscled thighs came to rest against Cecilia’s. Sloshing, heavy nuts, promising something truly obscene at the end of their coupling, halting, smacking against her cunt. For a long moment, the two norn seemed satisfied with their position, both pressed up against Cecilia’s comparatively small frame.

“Very careful,” Idun whispered in Cecilia’s ear, once again.

The colossus weighing Cecilia down gradually eased off, not, it seemed, because Mette wanted to do that, but merely as a result of the slow, thumping growth and hardening of it, such that it rose just a little further. An inch, perhaps, then two, hanging over her with an inescapable promise.

Idun released her hold of Cecilia, arms instead shifting such that her large hands could find a grip of the girl’s hips, curled around her at the crook where her parted legs bent up, and to the side, securing her by the hip joint. With the strength in those arms, Cecilia soon realized, Idun really had complete control over her. Could lift and move her precisely as desired. Fortunately, what was desired was merely a moving upwards, not to set her aside, but so that her firm butt could once more take its place as a kind of slowly spreading crown to that colossal cockshaft. It took only a few seconds for the slow spreading to grow more demanding, intense, her ass pried apart by what seemed, at least to Idun, relatively light pressure. Cheeks curving around that broad, smooth cockhead, molding, shaping, as if thereby to ease the passing of the monster.

Cecilia knew enough to expect ache, and strain, perhaps even pain, until she acclimatized, until her body somehow adapted to a union with that colossus. After the last time, when she had laid in a massive bed, recovering after a coupling, she had reasoned that some of all the magic expelled by the elder dragons had to have been deposited into her. Or the norn, perhaps. And, somehow, it made her capable of the impossible. It made her body just barely able to handle the most colossally endowed in all the land – the brave, the joyous, the pleasantly and cruelly demanding lovers, the norn.

She let go a shuddering breath, tensing her chest, her stomach, in order to try to relax around that broad, insistent cock-crown. Had they been separated, thick droplets of seed might have built upon its tip. She might have met them with her lips, or smeared them with her hands so as to more comfortably stroke that shaft, she might have pressed her tongue against each growing bead, drinking it in before it broke and ran. Now, as she was held in place, those fat beads never had the chance to run. Not even, really, to form, as they instead emerged and spread into a thin, slightly sticky layer on her skin, her still tight asshole steadily covered. Long moments passed and, as Idun pushed, gyrated just so, her seed eased her movement, but also increased the danger that she would slip from the unnatural union. Her behemoth would have ground against Cecilia’s inner thighs, had they not already been pushed aside, but now, there was not even that faint grip to hold her in place.

The inevitable happened. Rather than settle into the straining, tight body of the small human, that beast of a cock instead slipped, pressing awkwardly between them. Nothing holding it back, there was a strong jerk of movement, Cecilia rising as she suddenly came to rest ass-first on the first quarter of the monster of a cock, her rump finding its natural shape once more, no longer **** to fit around the merciless invader.

It was only a brief pause, however, as Idun rearranged herself, one of her arms moving down between Cecilia’s legs, stretching fingers finding a place around and against that wide cumvein, against the shaft, so that she might hold it in place. There was a somewhat frustrated sigh below Cecilia, and, when she glanced to Mette, she saw a grin. Inexplicably, those strong arms around her felt not like a prison, but a kind of protection. Mette’s mirth not predatory, but rather serving to lighten the anxiety that still fluttered in Cecilia’s chest. Occasionally bumping against a rib, sending a shivering jolt through her, her skin rising in a thousand little goosebumps.

Once more, Idun found her place. And, once again, Cecilia let loose a series of shaking, thin breaths, worry pregnant in each, strain rising as the pressure against her did likewise. But it was easier, already, that thin layer of seed functioning as lubrication, especially as each moment now added more and more to it. Idun’s fingers holding herself in place, there was no slipping. No getting away. Cecilia closed her eyes, and fought earnestly to relax, but could not stop her stomach, her thighs, from occasionally clenching. Tensing around the colossal width of that monster of a cock. Each time they came together a little closer, her slowly surrendering cheeks molding, forming a crater around the enormous cockhead, she let go an audible, high-pitched tone that emerged from her throat of its own accord.

Idun came to rest directly against Cecilia’s entrance, and for one moment, remained there. For that moment, Cecilia could look down, see those muscled arms curled around her, her own widely spread legs, and yet, not actually spot any sign of what was inevitably to come.

The pressure resumed, then, very quickly. Built from nothing, the hand still grasping her by her hip so increasing its strength that her skin grew paler still beneath each finger, and yet, it was not those points that drew her attention. Her thoughts, her reactions, were stolen by the sensation of slipping open. Almost torturously slowly, in staccato, sudden movements, a fraction of an inch of that behemoth sliding forward at a time, Cecilia felt Idun’s progress. Crushing, clenching, and yet that huge, fat dick **** her to gape around its girth, made her fingers curl and find a grip of the blanket that had been shed, her hands just able to reach it beneath Idun’s sturdy frame.

Short, stop-and-start exhalations rolled from her lips, a feeling both terrible and thrilling prompting each one, driving her to try to push her pelvis upwards. There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to escape that ever-building, mind-bending pressure, the certainty that too much was being asked of her, that her slim form was being asked to take too much. Too quickly. That she, her body, was somehow **** to widen around that colossus.

That sensation of fullness, which overlaid and **** itself upon every sense, and dampened all the rest, pushed both the warmth in her stomach and the snaking ice serpent of uncertainty in her chest down, reached a point at which Cecilia was convinced that she would pass out in the next moment. And then the next. The darkness never took her, but, instead, she just barely managed to squeak little, almost pathetic, surrendering peeps of air out, halting only when Idun ceased to grind and push and cram herself in, instead driving two full, monstrous inches of dick into Cecilia. No reprieve, no time to realize what had happened was offered, before a second thrust, the girl’s crushingly tight ass immediately slipping into place, clenching and closing around the rim of Idun’s hefty, wide cockhead. Locking her in place, at least for a long, breathless moment.

Idun withdrew the hand that had pressed down on her cockshaft, and so, allowed Cecilia, wide-eyed, mind a cold, crisp, blue-sky blank, to settle her gaze down upon the thick bump upon her lower stomach, the first hint of what she had been blessed with.

“Still with us?”

Breath rolled against her cheek. Against her ear. Lips. On her skin. The words were repeated, then. It was Idun. Come to a stop, resting, but not retreating an inch. Having taken what she could, for the moment, she refused to give up ground. She were, instead, it seemed, trying to make Cecilia answer, to break her out of the complete, crushing focus brought upon her senses by that initial conquest. To stir and push her such that she might cease near hyperventilating. But, small of body as she was, compared to the norn, Cecilia had convinced herself, somehow, that if she did anything, allowed any new feeling in, any comprehension of speech, if she did anything but gasp whining breath after whining breath, she might come apart.

It was a kindness, then, when Idun reached up and, for but a moment, wrapped her hand around the girl’s mouth and nose. Just for a few seconds, interrupting her ability to do what a mind hunting for and grasping at any solution, sensible or not, had made her do.

“Cecilia?”

Again, it was Idun. Removing the hand, and, thankfully, receiving an open-mouthed nod from Cecilia, who still breathed rapidly, but now, at least, had the ability to blink. Gesture. Think, in small ways. Allowed herself to release her clawing grip of the blanket, even if her chest rose and fell with shallow, swift breaths.

“You still think you can take us both?”

Mette. It was her that had spoken. Cecilia’s eyes flickered, her mind coalescing blurred shapes of furniture, of tapestries, the roofbeams, and finally the second norn, into more sharply defined things. A person. Could she… possibly? Could she ever? She swallowed, breathless, wordless, a thought telling her to shake her head, to stop the madness, and yet, she found herself nodding again. Encouraging the two.

“You’re sure?”

“Fuck… me,” Cecilia said. Heard herself say, somehow, the words spilling from greedy lips that her thoughts could not match. Not in that moment. She hissed, and then tried to settle down more firmly on Idun’s monster, finding it difficult to move almost at all. Not only was that shaft something she would likely need gravity’s help to conquer on her own, but the strong arms still curled around her, even if they were not squeezing, their mere presence made the endeavor impossible.

Mette found a place on both knees between Cecilia’s legs, laying that huge cockshaft against her front. It rolled aside just a little as it came into contact with the bulging bump already present, but that did not seem to deter the sculpted smith much, if at all. A slow thrust progressed up Cecilia’s form, inch upon heavy inch grinding against her smooth skin. Halting before reaching its full potential, before Mette could find rest against the girl’s thighs, instead pulled back down. Leaving an intermittent, thick, pearly-white trail of sweltering seed.

Cecilia’s mind lingered only briefly on Mette’s presence, Idun’s strong hands finding a grip, vice-like in its intensity, around her hips. The norn below her rose just so, controlled, but inevitable, in something not quite a thrust, but nevertheless irresistible in its demand to sink another slow inch, and then a second, into Cecilia’s ass, that singular bulge pushing further up her stomach to reflect the progress within. Still, even having been granted time to acclimatize to that colossal cockshaft’s presence, she could not help but let another series of those staccato, near-**** gasps go, some corner of her mind looking down herself with fascination at just what she could handle. What she could take, when strong enough arms, when strong enough will, made her do it. Made her forget the limitations the more rational part of her mind repeatedly told her applied to her.

With some restraint, Mette nevertheless found her place. That wide, warm cockhead pressed against Cecilia’s cunt, and, with insistence, began to push in. Slowly, though not with quite the same difficulty as Idun, below, she made a place for herself, an inch, then a second, then a third driven, ground in, Cecilia unable not to clench, to tighten with strength she did not know her body had, around that second, monstrously thick dick. The second crown mercilessly **** in, she found her twitching arms, hands, fingers once more reaching for the blanket below. Curled around handfuls of it, as were they starved beasts scarping down great lumps of food. Toes curling, her shoulders tensing in jerks, breath leaving her in intermittent, superficial gasps, it was only that grip of her hips, that second pair of hands curling around her thighs, that stopped her from quaking bodily.

The first, real thrust pressed into her ass, and at the brutal command of the norn below her, Cecilia’s conquered, stretching rear was fed another few inches of behemoth cock. A second thrust, not a heartbeat after the first had concluded, saw more obscenely girthy dick ramming into her pussy, slipping deeper still with the momentum, continuing its inexorable push until its head smeared and crammed up against her cervix. Held in place, shuddering, finally heaving in a jittery, tense breath, Cecilia’s eyes rolled unsteadily upwards. Idun’s grip of her hips was lost for an uncertain moment, but those thickly muscled arms wrapped around her, trapping her own arms beneath them, after which her hips were once again locked in that inescapable grip.

Without having to look down, Cecilia understood, felt, the thickness of that twin cockbulge hammering up her front, first one, then the other, moving precisely in perfectly offset unison, so that she never had a moment to come down, to relax, to try to parse the white-hot flash of sensation impressed upon her mind.

The grinding, clenching pressure of her body clamping down around those monsters fought against the cruelly solid steel of each unyielding shaft. She had never come close to such an experience as this, and did not even know if she wanted more, or to be done with it forevermore, after this. Any previous partner had been careful not to do too much, and so, what now happened was untrodden ground.

Mette, mostly by leaning weight and strength forward, adding only the occasional, if insistent, thrust, ground more and more persistently against Cecilia’s cervix, flattening it, and then, with ceaseless, cruel movement, a ponderous, slow conquest, made the girl submit in a physical way she had not thought possible. Little by little, she was pried open, that second, inner wall battered down. Huge, fat cock slipped inexorably, if torturously slowly, deeper into her core. Those continuously beading, splattering drops of seed would now collect freely within her womb, unstoppable. Not that Cecilia had spare thought for that eventuality, as, having held back while Mette made her way deeper, Idun once more laid another crushing, hammering thrust into her ass, sinking more of those languidly pulsing inches of cock in.

Both of the two norn soon found their old rhythm, one powering fat dick into Cecilia while the other secured their place, and prepared for another thrust. Steadily, that movement, its continuous rocking back and forth supplanted into Cecilia’s body, no matter how hard the grip of her hips and thighs, saw a crashing, tingling surf rising in her chest. In the space of a heartbeat, almost no time at all, that brushing, violent sea spread to her cheeks, her limbs, a hundred thousand little sparks coming together to set alight her core, no matter how overstuffed and full of monster cock it now was. Her eyelids jittering, muscles flexing, something within Cecilia tensed to the point that she was afraid she might break apart in a way not even those two behemoth’s and their owners could accomplish. It released, and lashing pleasure overcame her. Welled out in waves that thundered through her, fueled by the occasional, brutal thrust into her.

Though it seemed not coordinated at all, Cecilia came to the rhythm of those hard, continuous thrusts, breath irregular and gasping, almost wretched. Without intent, she struggled, thrashed against the hold of her arms, of her hips, but could do nothing to escape either, not that she would have wanted to, had she been in control of those movements. Tears ran from her eyes, undiscovered until another ten seconds had passed, until the final waves of pleasure, once more lowering beneath the surface pressure of both norn cramming fat dick into her, settled down. She blinked them away, letting out a single, relieved breath. The next was not so much released because she wanted to, but because Idun’s next, hammerblow thrust left only a handful of inches of that behemoth outside of Cecilia’s widely-stretched, tight ass. In the next moment, Mette’s next thrust saw her slip closer still to bottoming out.

Each movement became slower, more deliberate – not because Cecilia judged that the two wanted to take their time with hammering into her straining, over-filled body, but because those last, massively thick inches took time to press in. Took time to find room. And so, one second slipping into the next, Idun’s arms around her, still keeping her in place, having had to rise just to make room for those two colossal cockshafts, it was not with the apex of violent strength that the two settled those last inches in, but with ceaseless, brutal grinding. Cramming dick in, slipping little by little as Cecilia’s constricting, clenching form gave way.

It was Idun who first saw her pelvis press directly up against Cecilia, flattening her already conquered, molding cheeks, muscle driving the final fraction of an inch in, until that lazily pumping monster of a cock could find no more room to occupy. A few moments later, Mette followed suit, a gradual conquest so slow as to almost inevitably be about the joy of that final conquest. She pressed home, at last, somewhat awkwardly with how little room remained between her and Idun, both buried to the absolute root in the straining little human.

Though Cecilia still breathed in jittery, high-pitched gasps, her body weakening from the constant tension and exhaustion, necessary relaxation of muscle gave way to blooming, ever-present warmth. Welling up within her like a great plume of smoke, dispersing, lingering. In her thighs, calves. Her still-curling toes and feet, her upper arms, her hands. Fingers. It even, somehow, dampened the crushing pressure stealing command of her mind, and allowed her to blink. To take control of her rolling eyes, her thrashing head, just a little. Lolling it from side to side, slowly. A pillar of fluttering, prickling light rose and burst in her cheeks, and, in response to Mette pressing her muscled form against Cecilia harder still, a thrust that moved nowhere, there came another coalescing of those little sparks within her in her core, almost compressed enough by that single movement of the norn’s to push Cecilia over the edge once more.

Breathing shallow, occasionally almost seizing up before restarting again, she managed to part her lips. To breathe easier, if only for a moment. Her mouth being opened seemed to be taken as a kind of sign, Idun mercifully releasing one hand’s hard grip of Cecilia to instead move up, curling fingers past her lips and into her mouth. Settling into her cheek. Without thinking, Cecilia closed her eyes, and then her lips, around the index and middle finger stuck into her maw, pressing her tongue up against their backs. Kept them locked there as Mette withdrew just a single inch, and then pressed herself back in, and then again when Idun did the same.

That change of position had allowed Cecilia one hand free, and, her world compressed, her body given over to the efforts of the two norn, she reached down not far enough to try to find the blanket again, but instead merely to lay trembling fingers against the muscled flank of Idun, below her. A thin sheen of sweat bound them together, then, and she was treated to the wonderful feeling of muscle moving below her when the hunter rolled just so, two, then three monstrously fat inches of cock withdrawn, and then pounded back into her ass. The movement was echoed by Mette, above, bottoming out in Cecilia’s womb yet again.

Another such double movement came, and then a second. A third. For each cramming in of those final, fat inches, for each safe, and yet demanding meeting of the bodies of the two norn, and Cecilia herself, a cresting, curved wave rose. Bidding by that grinding command given her as they moved, as they hilted again, as they ground into her depths. And, as the rhythm was established, both Mette and Idun moving with near inhuman regularity, steadily mashing colossal dick into Cecilia’s small frame, rocking her back and forth, back and forth, endlessly, without a moment’s peace, that wave only built, and built.

Without wishing to, Cecilia found her fingers clenching against Idun’s skin. Digging into muscle she had no chance of overcoming, and yet digging anyway. Rolling, rocking back and forth with speed she had no chance of regulating, insistence that only drove her closer and closer to the edge. Right up to it. Beyond it. And then further beyond it, when neither of the two ever thought of ceasing, merely hammering pleasure into her trembling form, so power poured into her that what would have been a first coming together of them all was instead overpowering. A starry, compressing sky of body and mind that would have resolved into a climax was pushed down just so, again, and again, until it had **** but to instead clench down, fed energy by each ramming, hard thrust.

Both of the norn continued without pause. Steady pace, uncompromising, and hard, and between them, Cecilia trembled with an orgasm at once subdued, and continuous. Going on, and on, and on, rising and falling precisely to the rhythm of thrusts plowed into her tight ass, her clenching pussy. They were too strong, too eager, to allow her to come to a boiling high, too busily crushing the weight of muscle against her. Her breathing erratic, held, straining, until allowed a moment’s freedom, her eyes glassy, then rolling up. Every fiber of her being burning with pinpricks of heat that were somehow, simultaneously, mere embers, and yet heating every part of her through. Tens of seconds turned into a minute. Two. Three. Every time she blinked, a new tear ran from her eyes. If the pleasure had not so weakened her, she would have long ago cramped up entirely. But there was no escape. Nothing. Each norn, with brutal strength, with complete, steady control of rhythm, plowed well over half of their monstrous, fat dick in, resting there for but a heartbeat, and then withdrew.

Steady as they were, the effort was clearly taking its toll on them. As that endless, crushing heat, that eternal climax, had found enough of an escape to begin to allow Cecilia to come down, the world penetrated into her mind again. The fullness, the steel of those behemoth cocks ceaselessly hammering into her depths, even the steadily moving, fat bulge upon her front, all of it fell away just enough that she noted the hard breathing of both norn. The slowly gathering droplets of sweat clinging to each of their forms.

For one moment, at least, crystallized, time ceasing to flow so that Cecilia could preserve the memory of the homestead, of her between Mette and Idun, the redheaded, obscenely blessed. A stray thought made it through the endless pressure, and she wondered whether they stayed together – whether they often found lost travelers, and invited them in, as they had with her. But, then, it was her that had goaded them into this absurd display, this demonstration of just how much massive, fat cock they could fit into a single, eager, if hapless human. At no point had they pushed her into it. She wanted it, and, in the time available to her before she sank into the endlessly pleasant fog of dulling pleasure, she wanted them to prove their potency to her, too. To pump themselves empty.

That crystalline moment fell apart. Did not shatter, as such, but rather melded into the background. Compressed between another meeting of Cecilia’s pliant form, and rock hard muscle, Idun bottoming out completely in her straining, tight ass. Further set aside when Mette took over the moment after, slam-fucking herself in, to the hilt. There was a questing, coaxing quality to both of the two, increasingly, every thrust more clearly seeking release than the one before. To the point, even where one or the other halted the established, punishing rhythm of thrusts to instead capture Cecilia in their grip, allowing them to land a series of hammerblow thrusts, moving just a few inches in and out with incredible speed, the smacking of skin against skin resounding in the homestead for those short interludes. They fell back to their usual pace, then, and so continued.

As they went on, Cecilia, worn out in the most pleasant possible way, resigned to being controlled by the grip of both norn, felt that same pleasure as earlier rise. Steadily, with each hilting of those behemoth shafts, building. No longer trapped, held down by the power of one or the other, instead merely reinforced. Without shred of will or desire to coyly hold herself back, still rocking to the tune of those plowing thrusts, the blessed, coiling bursts of pleasure rose, and, though Cecilia felt comfortable exhaustion, felt herself unable to even move, she nevertheless parted her lips and let a relieved, joyful breath escape. Something very near to laughter, interrupted steadily by each norn hammering in to the root, flowed from the girl. Light, and pure, and surrendered entirely to the rocking back and forth, to the endless growing, bursting of ecstatic, pearling pinpricks. The grip she had maintained of Idun’s flank faltered, the laughter stilling, even if the helpless, deep smile remained. Aftershocks of orgasm pushed upon her senses as Idun bottomed out, and then Mette, and then Idun again. One after the other. Without end.

Without end.

The end came, at last. She knew not when, knew not how long had passed, how much time she had spent in their rhythmic, deep embrace, between the two. Knew only that they still hammered pleasure into her, into her limbs, when one of them halted. Held still for a long moment, and then crammed the final two inches of that obscenely thick cockshaft into her. It was Idun, desperately forcing dick into Cecilia’s ass, even as the musculature within shook, locked down. Quaked, once. Breath held, and then she rose against Cecilia, though already having ground herself in to the absolute hilt. A moment later, in the exact same instant as Mette rammed a full, hard thrust in, Cecilia experienced the sensation of one of those mammoth shafts seeming to grow thicker still. Just a little, a fraction, but enough to notice. Enough to accommodate orgasm, that first, rising load pounding from Idun, swelling that wide cumvein as it pumped into Cecilia’s depths.

With uncontrollable strength, that first, huge load pounded into her ass, a thick, continuous strand spearing into her depths, her already bulging stomach swelling briefly in a little rise with the **** of that first release. A second, vast rope of seed slammed down the straining norn’s shaft, and once more, her muscled form mashing Cecilia’s ass almost flat, she rose against her small partner. Balls rising to the rhythm of those emptying, copious loads, a third rolling into a fourth, and fifth, an endless series built towards, and then locked in.

Another moment, another brutal, hilting thrust, and Mette plowed in to the hilt in Cecilia’s womb, remaining there while Idun steadily came, below. Still moments, coaxing herself, the norn finally lowered her brows, let her mouth fall open just so, though breath still seemed out of her reach. With explosive ****, then, something within her rolled over, found its feel, and so she let out an almost painful groan. Her core, pressed up against Cecilia, clamped down in one powerful movement, a sweltering, powerful rope of swimmers hammering through that colossal shaft, splattering into Cecilia’s womb. Not allowed a moment to settle, the next came on, and the next.

Together, the two held Cecilia in their crushing grips, soft skin indented, whitening around each fingertip, such was the primal insistence on holding themselves in, bottomed out, as they came. Load, upon load, thick cords of sweltering seed pounding and pumping and flooding into Cecilia’s depths, each rippling rope building upon the many come before.

Already thickly bulging with both of those monstrously fat dicks, it took time before the might of their swell began to distort from the sheer amount of thick seed rhythmically hammering into Cecilia. Moment rolled into moment, each of those wondrously blessed half-giant woman some thirty rippling pillars of jizz deep into their orgasm, ever continuing, but, eventually, womb and stomach grew, bloated, rose with the absurd loads **** upon them. Swelling, growing around the might and girth of each norn, each second forcing from Cecilia a new high-pitched gasp, her stomach rising, and rising. Growing to a fully pregnant-looking dome, wobbling, moving, rippling still, even as Idun and Mette began to settle, only the occasional, thumb-thick jet of seed now leaving them.

Hesitant to leave behind the little human who somehow contained them both, they remained bottomed out in her as they both gasped for breath, slowly returning to some semblance of normalcy. Save that each massively thick monster cock remained hilted. Idun, though her hands remained on Cecilia’s hips, released her crushing grip enough that trembling hands could be moved up to carefully support that sloshing dome.

“Maybe… best, to… wait here, with us, till the blizzard’s over,” Idun said, in Cecilia’s ear. Still gasping for breath, just so. The last word clipped as a final, lazy rope of seed pounded into Cecilia’s ass.

“You may have to carry me back to the haven, even if we wait,” Cecilia whispered. Seemingly unable to produce more volume than that.

There was an amused expulsion of air from both of them, at that. Cecilia felt a hand from both of them caressing the dome of her stomach, both possessive. Both relieved, proud. It was difficult to resolve how she could tell that through mere touch, but then, perhaps it was the insistence on remaining hilted in her that helped her understand their feelings, to some extent. They had accomplished something. Would she, now, become part of their legends? Or did the norn not incorporate carnal exploits into their legends? Surely these two, as blessed as they were, would have no trouble becoming singular figures in bawdy norn songs. Did norn have bawdy songs?

Cecilia shuddered just slightly as Mette shifted an inch backwards. And then again when Idun did likewise. She could not move a muscle, herself. Did not want or need to, at any rate.

“We’ll… make something to eat, “Idun said.

“You stay here,” Mette chimed in.

“Don’t think I can actually move,” Cecilia said. “But I think you’ve made sure I’ve eaten for the next two days.”