You Can Take Them!

Not ready to give up the fight, you stand your ground. Dixon lunges at you, but you dodge the attack and slash at her backside. Your blade catches her skirt and rips through the fabric all the way up to the waist. She rolls to the side and springs back up to face you, leaving her slashed skirt behind as it falls to the ground. You try not to be distracted by her red thong panties and how they show off her plump ass cheeks.

Just then, Thompson high-kicks the dagger out of your hand. The blade goes flying across the room and lands out of sight. Thinking fast, you crouch low to the ground and sweep her leg out from under her before she brings her kicking foot down. She lands on her back, and you climb in top of her to wrestle her dagger out of her hand. Just as you manage to get it free of her grasp, you feel Dixon's boot kick you hard in the face. You see stars. Thompson rolls you over onto your back and regains her footing, planting her heel firmly against your crotch. When your vision clears, you see Dixon straddling your chest and holding her dagger to your throat.

"Come on, Sandy. Let's get him back to Mistress zh'Thracia," Thompson says, but the look in Dixon's eyes says she's not giving up her prey so easily.

"He resisted. We had **** but to kill him. Who's to say otherwise?" she says to her while staring into your eyes with sadistic glee.

"The Mistress isn't going to like that," Thompson warns.

"Fuck the Mistress! I'm going to take his breath away." Dixon releases the knife at your throat and gets up just enough to turn around and position her ass directly over your face. Her supple pale cheeks are the last thing you see as she plants them firmly over your eyes and nose. The aroma of sweat and pussy permeates your nostrils.

"Get off me you sick fmmmph!" She cuts off your words by leaning forward and smothering your mouth with her cunt. You try to breathe in through the fabric of her panties, but the growing moisture of the fabric is blocking the air. Her thighs press against the sides of your head, holding you firmly in place. You try to struggle, but Thompson's boot just presses down harder on your caged cock. The Spike of her heel pokes through the ribs of the cage. Dixon starts to rock back and forth on your face. That rocking quickly turns to bouncing. Her movements slam the back of your skull against the deck repeatedly. You feel her shudder, and a warm wetness leaks around her soaked panties and fills your mouth. The corners of your vision recede. You don't know if it's the lack of oxygen or the blows to the back of your head that are stealing away your consciousnesses, but you no longer care.