Carefully, patiently, with understanding

Martin lay on his back, sleeping peacefully. At some point during the night, he had moved away from her chest and now lay on his back. He’d awoken early in the morning and tiptoed out of bed, down to the room with the bath, and shaved himself. Brunhilde had hinted that she wanted him to do that for her, so he’d shaved everything from his neck down. It felt strange to be so smooth and hairless, but he was aroused feeling the touches on his skin that had never seen the sun. After that, he’d snuck back upstairs and snuggled back into bed with her. She was in for a treat when she woke up.

He awakened slowly, opening his eyes in the morning light. He felt a strange sensation somewhere down below, and felt cold air on his body. He looked down and saw Brunhilde’s head bobbing up and down, her wet, soft lips wrapped around his cock. Her mouth was a little cooler than his penis and something about the contrast drove him wild. She pulled her head off of his cock, maintaining the suction so that her lips made a popping sound when she pulled away, and stroked him a little. She looked up at him and smiled.

“Good morning, love,” she said, still stroking his dick. He laid his head back and felt her take him back in her mouth, the tip of her tongue running down his frenulum. Brunhilde deepthroated him then, taking his hips in her hands and squeezing them. He grunted as she sucked him. Then she pulled her head back, grabbed his erection with one hand, and tapped it off her tongue a few times.

“Gods fucking dammit, that feels good,” he said. He would never have used such language at the monastery. But here he was in Yrkheim, on his back with a heathen woman slurping his cock. Why not?

“Do you like it?” he asked. She looked up at him with her lips still wrapped around his length, and said “mmm-hmm” with his cock still in her mouth, her fingers caressing his freshly shaved groin.

She sucked him for a while longer. He just lay his head back and breathed deeply. His blushing chest rose and fell as he felt her warm, wet lips gliding up and down his shaft, her tongue skillfully working the sensitive underside and stimulating the head. Her fingers were everywhere, gently cupping his balls and tickling his taint. Here and there, one would lightly graze his asshole, and he would feel his body seize up in pleasure.

“Turn over, sweety,” she said. He did as she asked, turning over and laying down on his stomach. He expected a massage.

“All fours,” she said. He raised himself up onto his elbows and looked quizzically at her over his shoulder. She smacked him on the rump and said, “I wasn’t asking.”

He obeyed, sitting on all fours.

“Don’t look at me,” she said, “Face forward. Good boy! Now put your chest down. Not your head, your chest. Now,” she grinned evilly, “Spread your ass.”

Martin llay there on the bed, his neck craned a little uncomfortably. He was bent over with his butt hoisted in the air, and she was making him expose his hole to her. He felt her hand under his chin.

“Raise up a moment, love,” she said, and then slid a pillow under his head. The elevation took a little pressure off of his neck, and it was softer, too.

“Better, sweetheart?” she asked.

“Y-yes,” he said, still holding the pose she’d ordered him to take. She ruffled his hair. He felt her hand trace its way down the back of his neck, raising gooseflesh down his body. Her fingers tickled him down the length of his spine, to his tailbone. He felt hot breath on his taint, and then he tongue lapping wetly at his ballsack. She went left and right, sucking each of his testicles into her mouth and gently suckling it for a moment before moving to the other. She kissed her way up and nibbled his taint. He felt her hot, wet tongue slide up his smooth taint and then her tongue touched his asshole.

“Aahh!” cried Martin. It was unbelievable! His cock ached and throbbed. The sensation of her moist, soft tongue sliding around his asshole and poking at every crevice was driving him crazy. He moaned and pushed back, gripping his butt with his hands and spreading it as wide as he could.

“Oh, gods, Brunhilde!” he groaned. She sucked his asshole for a moment longer and then withdrew. Then he felt one of her hands cup his balls and slide along his shaft, soft feathery touches as she fondled him from behind. That hand then took a firm grip on his balls, and he felt one of her fingers probing at his anus. He whimpered softly as it slid in, well-lubricated by spit, and pressed down on his prostate.

“Guh,” he gasped, feeling her finger expertly manipulating his engorged gland.

“Does that feel good, love?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Now turn on your back. All the way over. Good! Now, pull your knees up to your chest… There you go.”

He was now laying on his back with his knees up and his bottom exposed for her. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the pillow. He wasn’t sure what Brunhilde was going to do with him next, but he knew it would involve doing something back there, and it would feel great.

Martin gasped as he felt something cold at his entrance. Brunhilde slowly, gently pushed her first, lubricated finger inside of him. He moaned as he felt her finger pressing strongly and insistently on his prostate, his cock twitching each time. His breath hitched in his chest as she pushed a second finger in. She got it in to the second knuckle.

“Ow!” he said. Brunhilde stopped, and Martin felt a soft hand on his cheek.

“Am I hurting you?” she said quietly, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

“Yes. Just a little. Just… please go slow, okay?” he said.

“Alright, love. Just relax.”

It continued for a while. Her finger probed and flexed and pressed against him in different directions. He made sounds he’d never made before as she pushed in and explored his ass. There was more lubricant, some sort of sweet-smelling oil. Then a second finger joined the first.

“Ohh,” said Martin weakly as she eased her second finger inside him. He felt full and his asshole clenched tight around her fingers. She moved them in and out, gently pressing and turning them until his anus finally relaxed. He lay with his head back and breathed, his chest rising and falling like an infant. She began to thrust her fingers in and out, slowly at first, and he shuddered with each thrust. Then there came more lube, and then a third finger, and Martin reached for his cock. She placed her hand on his.

“No,” she said softly, “Not yet, love. Don’t touch it. I’ll get it for you soon enough.”

He whimpered softly and felt her fingers push into his ass again. She curled them upward and began tickling his prostate mercilessly. She pushed into his prostate, applying pressure and releasing, and he felt his asshole grip and flex on her fingers. He bounced his hips a little, enjoying the penetration.

She withdrew her fingers after pleasuring him for a while. Then he sat up and looked at her, and gasped.

She was wearing a strap-on. It was carved from ivory, with leather thongs that strapped it to her waist and thighs. She smiled at him.

“Spread your legs, sweetheart,” she said, stepping onto the bed and standing on her knees. He spread his legs wide and watched as she lubed up the ivory strapon, probably carved from the tusk of some beast. She had been loosening him up with her fingers for the past twenty minutes or so. She leaned forward and he felt the head of the intruder pressed against his anus.

“Just relax, love,” she whispered in his ear, “Just breathe nice and deep. Everything is going to be okay.”

He shuddered as the head of it parted the entrance to his asshole, then the second sphincter deeper inside of him. She’d done a great job of loosening him up, and all nine inches of the ivory cock, bigger than his own, slid smoothly into his hole. He was being stretched wider than ever before, and the pressure on his prostate was indescribable. It was almost hard to breathe. When she was buried in him to the hilt, he let out a small cry.

“Brunhilde!” he said, his little body shaking.

“What’s wrong, love?” she asked.

“Please,” he gasped, wrapping his arms feebly around her neck, “Please don’t hurt me, Brunhilde. Please…”

He expected her to mock his weakness, disciplined warrior that she was. He half expected a slap. But instead, he felt one of her arms pass beneath his waist, and another under his shoulders. She gathered him up in her arms and held him close, cradling him against her lovingly.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she said, squeezing him tenderly against her, “I’m right here. I would never hurt you. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

He wrapped his legs around her waist, feeling totally helpless. He was at her mercy. She could completely destroy him if she wanted. All he could do was cling to her and quiver. He shivered and looked up at her through unfocused eyes.

“Do you promise?” he asked meekly. He was shaking like a leaf.

“I promise,” she said softly, “I promise I’ll never hurt you.”

She gently squeezed him again, kissing his cheek and nuzzling him. She could feel him shivering and quaking underneath her, and she pulled him in close, cuddling him to her and surrounding him with her softness and warmth.

“Did someone hurt you before, you sweet boy?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to tell her about his harsh upbringing as a farm boy, and how that simply was too much for someone as constitutionally sensitive as he was. He wanted to tell her about his suffering at the monastery, and how the Archons had beaten him. He wanted to tell her about how hard things had been. But, he was not someone who complained. He knew he wasn’t special.

“Please,” he whispered, “Please don’t hurt me. Maybe I deserve to hurt, but please be gentle with me.”

His last words sounded as if he were pleading. She squeezed him close again, one arm around his waist and another around his shoulders. She kissed him on the forehead and tenderly pressed her cheek against his. He shook a little in her embrace, completely helpless.

“I love you, Martin,” she said, holding him close. She could sense his insecurities. It didn’t matter. She was there to smooth it all over, to completely flatten it out. He was **** and soft, and she was there to care for him. Brunhilde began to rock her hips slowly, pushing the ivory cock in and out. With him gathered up in her arms, she fucked him sweetly, feeling his little body gasp and moan as she filled him over and over. She watched his body language closely. Whenever he winced or flinched, she slowed down, changed angles, and took special care not to hurt him. A few times, she stopped and dribbled some more lube down there to make sure he wouldn’t hurt more than necessary.

“I… I love you too, Brunhilde,” he said, looking up at her with utter devotion. She closed her mouth over his and slipped her tongue between his lips. He moaned softly as she did so. There was nothing he could do. He was completely at her mercy. She broke the kiss and pressed her cheek against his again, still pumping his tight asshole with the thick ivory cock. He shuddered and moaned as the big intruder rubbed over his swollen prostate. It was as if he were cumming every few seconds, dry orgasms. She had absolute control. By swiveling her hips a little, she could reduce him to a puddle of orgasmic jitters.

“It’s okay, love,” she whispered in his ear, “You deserve this. You’ve been hurt enough already. Just relax and let me make you feel good. Let me make you cum, you sweet little thing.”