Brutally and thoroughly

Brunhilde tossed him from where they were standing. He landed on the bed, flat on his back, with a soft thump. Martin made a brief effort to sit up but was flattened. He had the impression of something strong and soft pinning him down, a mouth roughly closed over his own, hands grabbing at his body. She broke away for just a moment and tore his robe off, pulling it roughly over his head. Brunhilde had somehow slipped off her remaining clothing and was grinding against him. Because of the height difference, his crotch was roughly level with her stomach. She moved up and pinned his wrists to the bed over his head, so he was stretched out flat, and mounted his hips. Martin watched her plump white breasts jiggle and bounce as she humped his crotch. Her snatch was already soaking wet. He could feel the prickliness of her trimmed pubic mound and the soft wetness of his labia grinding on his pelvis. Her motions were big, exaggerated, rubbing her cunt all over his lower body. She was priming herself to practically break him in half. Leaving her juice all over him was just a means of marking her territory. With surprise, he noticed his dick was already hard.

Brunhilde moved up further, moving her hips until she was sitting on his face. He had thought he was already hard, but the sweaty, musky smell of her wet pussy made him even harder. His cock was throbbing painfully.

“Lick me,” she said hoarsely, “Lick me good, you little slut.”

He stuck his tongue out. It didn’t make much difference. She just began grinding on his face. His wrists were still pinned and he was so turned on that he humped the air the way he had back on the ship. He could only helplessly stab the air with his dick while her moist nether flesh rubbed all over his face. He moaned into her pussy, tasting the musky nectar trickling from her molten sex. She repositioned her hips slightly, and something else was pressed on his mouth.

“Lick my ass,” she said.

He stuck his tongue out and began flicking it over her asshole, not sure what to do.

“No, stupid,” she said, “Keep your tongue flat. Just hold it still and move your head.”

He did as he was told. He stuck his tongue out as far as he could, holding it limp and relaxed, and nodded his head up and down, rubbing his soft, wet tongue over her asshole. She yelped and then made a cooing sound.

“Oh,” she said breathlessly, “You’re good. Keep it up. Be good for momma.”

She rode his tongue for a few more minutes, and then pressed her ass over his face.

“Poke it,” she said. He stuck his tongue out straight and jabbed at her asshole with it, feeling her big soft ass cheeks twitch and spasm a little whenever his tongue touched her sensitive anus. He couldn’t breath and her bum was covering his mouth and nose, and he began to thrash his legs around from the lack of oxygen. She only held him there, moaning and riding his face, until finally she let up. Martin gasped for air, lightheaded, with little sparks swimming in his vision. He was vaguely aware that his cock was still rock hard and aching for attention, but mostly he just wanted air. That was denied to him when she sat down again.

“Lick!” she yelled, squashing his face under her bottom. He complied as best he could, until she began suffocating him again. He could smell the sickly mustiness of her ass and pussy in his nostrils and went cross-eyed from the stimulation and lack of air. He was vaguely aware when she pulled away that he could breathe again. Then he felt her mount his crotch and looked up.

She was facing toward him. Her hair was a complete mess, and her face still looked angry. She seized his cock and squatted over him, guiding his member into her cunt.

“Oooaaahh!” he said as he felt her pussy slide down his cock. He was tight, so very tight. How could a woman that size have such a small opening? She began bouncing on him, her big soft buttocks making a slapping noise against his hips. He stared at her breasts, bouncing up and down in the firelight, and at her slit, glistening with juice as she rode his cock.

“Say you love it!” she growled, leaning forward and beginning to grind on him instead. He lay with his legs apart and his arms over his head as if raising them in surrender, panting with eyes out of focus.

“I love it,” he said.

“Say it again!”

“I love —” before he could finish, a hand closed over his throat and cut off his air. His face turned red and his eyes bulged as she fucked him relentlessly, bouncing her ass on his dick. He could feel the constriction around his throat and the hot wetness gripping and twitching around his cock. He put his hands on her wrists and feebly tried to pull it off, but her grip was iron. Finally, she released him. He gasped for a moment and then she slapped him.

“Say you love it!” she screamed.

“I love it,” he rasped, wheezing as her big white hips swivelled and squirmed on his erection.

“Who owns your dick?” she said.

“You do,” he said.

“That’s right. This is my dick! I’ll break it if I want!” she yelled, grinding her hips back and forth. He stared with wide eyes at her white stomach and hips writhing hypnotically on his pelvis, devouring his cock. Suddenly, she sped up and fell into a fast rhythm with little short bounces, her labia wetly pressed against his crotch each time she came down. Her head rolled back and her face went bright red. A deep red blush spread over her chest as well. She grabbed one of his hands and **** his fingers into her mouth, greedily sucking and slurping on them. With her free hand, she pinched one of her nipples.

“Give it to me,” she said lustfully with his fingers still in her mouth garbling her speech, “Gimme that cum!”

He shuddered and gave a long, low moan as he felt the buildup to an orgasm, like fire in his dick. He moaned louder and then began to growl like an animal as he came, his cock spasming as he pumped rope after rope of cum into her ravenous cunt.

“Oh, fuck!” she yelled. He felt her pussy twitch on the inside as she, too, came. Her secretions showed as thick white cream on his shaft. She gave little short moans, “Uh! Uh! Uh!” as she bounced on him, high pitched squeaks very unlike anything he’d heard from the mighty huntress before.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck me! Fuck me!” she screamed, still grinding on his dick. She was insatiable! He had just cum and was still hard somehow. His penis was oversensitized from the orgasm. He made a strangled gurgling noise from the overstimulation and somehow came a second time. At this point, her tight cunt was soaked from her juices and his prior orgasm, and her pussy squelched and made wet noises as their juices accumulated on the base of his dick. He was delirious. Her face was swimming in his vision.

“Look at me!” she growled, “I said look at me right now!” She was still riding him. Why wasn’t he soft yet? He tried to focus on her, but his vision was bleary from all the fucking, strangling, and cumming. Her face swam in front of him. He felt a sharp sting as she slapped him twice, once on each cheek, then grabbed a fistful of the hair on top of his head and craned his neck forward.

“Fucking look at me!” she shrieked, and he stared up at her fiery green eyes. Her face was still enraged. She continued to ride him for a few more minutes until they came together like a **** of nature. Then she collapsed on top of him, sweaty soft breasts pressing into his chest, her large body pinning him down completely. She nuzzled her face into his neck and began tongueing him there. He didn’t have much energy left but he still squirmed feebly, whimpering at the tingling sensation on his neck.

After a while, she stopped that as well and sat up. He could hear the moist sound of their sweaty bodies peeling apart. Was she leaving him? He lay on a wet spot on the bed, the feeling of soaked and slightly clammy blankets all around him. He closed his eyes and tried to breath softly, and he heard her walking around the room. It sounded as if she were tending the fire. He could hear the crunch of a log being added, and then the sound of her blowing on it. The next thing he felt was her hands under his shoulders and the crook of his knees. She picked him up and walked with him over to the fire, laying him down on the blanket in front of it. Now he was laying in the firelight where she could see him easily. He felt a soft, warm hand stroking his cheek.

“Wake up,” she whispered. He opened his eyes and saw her looking down at him with concern.

“Brunhilde,” he rasped.

“Martin, did I hurt you?”

“Yes,” he said, smiling weakly. She smiled back, but still looked worried. She passed her right arm under his shoulders and gently sat him up. With her other hand, she pushed his chin back, exposing his neck. He felt her finger tracing his throat and flinched.

“It’s alright,” she said softly, “I won’t hurt you.”

She gently pressed down with her fingers in different places on his neck. No, he wasn’t permanently injured. No swelling or unusual bumps or cracks. His neck was fine. She laid him back down and checked his wrists. Taking each one in turn, she peered at them. They were bruised where she had seized them. She pressed them gingerly, feeling the bones. No, no breaks. Finally he felt her hands on his hip. Her fingers would briefly press here and there, and then she’d ask: “Does that hurt? How about that? No? How about here?” After a few more moments, she began stroking her hair. He sighed. His throat was recovering a little.

“Did I take it too far?” she asked.

“Maybe a little,” he said. His voice was raspy and he gave her a wry grin, “Maybe just a little easier on my neck next time?”

She picked him up again, the same way as before, and sat on the bed. Martin was sitting across her lap, hands folded in his own lap. Her arm was behind his shoulders supporting him.

“Well,” she said, “If I get pregnant, I guess you’ll get what you wanted.”

“Mmm-hm,” he said sleepily, and lay his head against her shoulder. Brunhilde picked him up daintily, lay him down on the bed, and pulled up a blanket. She lay on her back, and he snuggled against her, laying his head on her chest. In moments, he was asleep.

She watched him for a while in the dying fire light. The poor thing. She felt a stab of guilty looking at the bruises on his hands. She had nearly killed him! Well, perhaps not killed, but she’d still hurt him more than she meant to. She kissed the top of his head. She would need to exercise him and make him a little stronger before she got so rough with him again.