Allow her to easily dominate you

You stand dwarfed by the amazonian woman, though you are above average in height and wearing chunky, three-inch heels on your knee-high boots. Jen pulls you against her muscular body, a full foot taller than you. Your cleavage, piled up in abundance by your satin and leather bustier, threatens to spill out against her sweat-soaked tanktop. Her other hand drops to your wide hips and she strokes the golden sash tied round your waist that serves as your skirt and down to the mismatched stockings you wear on your long and slender legs. She gazes down into your eyes, brushes a lock of jet-black hair from your face and she leans down to kiss you again.

"I won't be too rough," she promises. "But I'm going to be rough."

Her eyes seem to twinkle in the darkness of the weapon's room. You could object. You have a sword belted around your hips. You don't bother. You let her wrap her big hand around your throat - not violently - and **** you back against one of the gunnery consoles. The fingers of her other hand hook between the big, soft mounds of your pale titflesh and the fabric of your bustier.

She tugs mightily and the clasps snap open all the way down to your waist. You gasp at the feeling of nakedness as you are exposed. Your bustier flops apart like a vest and your huge tits fall and lay across your chest. Jen admires your big, dark areolas and the fat nipples sticking out at her. She caresses your tits, squeezing them and smashing them together, teasing your nipples until you moan with pain and pleasure.

"Oh, does that hurt?" Jen asks with a smirk. She twists your other nipple and you moan and squirm in her grasp.

"A little," you confess.

"A little?" she leans her head down and seizes a fat nipple between her teeth. She looks up at you, smiling, teeth gleaming white, and she bites down. Not hard enough to draw blood, but just shy of that hard. It really does hurt! Damn this giantess!

She seems to be satisfied with your pained yelp and she begins to kiss your titflesh. She hefts it and strokes it as she plants kisses all over your breasts, above them, and across your sensitive nipples. She sucks your tender tits and ravishes them with her tongue until the pain is forgotten and there is only pleasure. You reach up and try to cradle her head against your chest, but Jen pushes your arms back to your sides. She stands up and cups your chin, pinching your cheeks together and pouting your lips out.

"You touch me when I tell you," she scolds. She leans down as if she is about to kiss you. You close your eyes and part your lips. Jen releases her hold on your face and grins.

"Let's see that plump ass of yours, Hannah," she spins you around and pushes you onto your elbows over the console. She tears aside the sash you wear as a skirt and drags your belt down your legs so that the sword and scabbard clatter on the floor. Your ass is heart-shaped and plump, but not fat. Your modesty is concealed only by a pair of dark, sheer panties.

"Oh, yes," she coos, running her hands over your shapely ass. "I've thought about this ass. Lovely."

Jen yanks down your panties and gives you a prolonged spanking. Your cheeks bounce against the powerful blows and slaps ring out in the gunnery room. She seems to enjoy the way you jerk and yelp with each swat. You can feel a growing soreness.

"Are you going to be good in the future?" she asks, swatting your ass twice more. "Let Jen use her guns?"

"Yesss," you promise, squirming with her hand against your ass.

"Good," she swats you again. "How are you going to make this up to me? Huh?"

She repeats the question several times, even gathering your dark hair up in one hand and yanking your head up while spanking you with her other hand. She clearly wants some sort of sexual submission.