Lustful Valhalla

Author's Note: This story has scenes depicting characters in sexual situations that are embarrassing or otherwise uncomfortable for some of the characters. These scenes are depicted as fun and mischievous, and the victims react with only mild annoyance or frustration. This is unrealistic. Much like dropping an anvil on someone's head, sexually embarrassing someone can easily hurt them in real life even if you're being funny, so please be kind and understanding of others.

"Well, well it looks like our mermaid is sneaking up on her enemies," the announcer pretended to whisper, ruining the surprise.

The mermaid was actually a human woman, named Mia. Before coming to Valhalla, she was a spy. A very good one. Swimming silently up on her opponents like this had brought back fond memories of how she slithered without a splash through the tropical waters and onto tall ships to steal vital documents from under the watchmen's noses (sometimes literally). Her minimal swim dress had bordered on scandalous at the time but was nothing compared to her current outfit.

Unlike most of the women in Valhalla, Mia loved her outfit. It was only made out of three sea shells--no bigger than the palm of her hand--held in place by thin strings, but the bikini, as it was called, fit her slender body especially well. Its porcelain parts and silken strands molded gently to her skin and caressed it in a very pleasing way. Also pleasing were the looks in the eyes of those admiring her tanned skin, almost entirely on display and contrasting brilliantly with the white shells.

Strapped to her thigh was a modified version of the knife she had once used in the rare cases that her stealth missions required self-defence or even rarer assassinations. And in her hands was one of the strange guns common on Valhalla.

Mia's limited apparel was the sort of thing common for the women of Valhalla. And Valhalla for some reason was populated almost entirely by women, beautiful warrior women to be precise. Something else Mia had no problem with.

The two sexy creatures she was sneaking up were perfect examples of this. The first wore a skin tight leopard print suit with a hole that her large breasts had squeezed out of. Her partner wore something a little more practical leaf pattern shorts were stretched over her tight ass (but not much more), paired with a series of straps that held various pockets and sometimes covered her nipples. Both sparsely clad woman looked quite attractive to Mia, she would have loved to get better aquainted with them if the weren't actively hunting her.

Knowing they would spot her eventual, the mermaid fired a splattering of shots, all missed, only serving to give away her position. Her enemy returned fire. Mia dived for cover. But it was too late; she felt the sharp sting just to the left of her belly button, then the dull ache and wetness tricking down before she grew numb. Glancing down, Mia confirmed what she already knew; she was hit. The paralysing paint had splattered across her stomach, and as the blackness took her, she knew she wouldn't be able to do much for a while.

When she regained awareness the woman in the catsuit had her arms pinned behind her. The other one in the leaf patterned clothes was using a long, thin club to torment her sensitive pussy. The poor captive's shell armor had been discarded. Aglow with a gentle sheen of perspiration, her flawless supple skin was available for all to ogle. A thought that was making the exhibitionists nipples hard.

The woman in the catsuit was surprisingly strong and Mia was left a little weak from the paralysis paint. Thus her captor was able to easily hold the mermaid's arms with one hand, leaving the other free to pinch, pull and twist the perky nipples no longer protected by seashells. Soon the two woman had Mia begging for mercy between whimpers. "You can end this whenever you want." Said the catwoman, who had twisted her head a bit to get nip and tongue her breasts.

"Yes tell us where the flag is and we'll let you cum," said the other.

Obviously Mia was torn. The skill of her opponents had made her for an orgasm; however. she also wanted to win. Not only would she get the prize, but more importantly, Citrine would also be very 'grateful' if Mia managed to resist this.

The flailing mermaid hardend her resolve. Mia knew she could hold out. After all, a Twisted Theropia had held her dangling over the edge of orgasm for a over half hour. These two wouldn't have its coordination, medical knowledge, or mind reading abilities, so they would have to keep her further from that blissful point of no return.

Such monstrosities were not uncommon across Valhalla, but mostly whatever powers ruled this place left the women to make war (or love) with themselves. There were a few staff and administrators that ran the games and kept things interesting.

As if on cue, the announcer spoke up again "well, well, looks like our mermaid is being pumped for information, Just look at how close she is." Mia's face blushed a little. She had no problem with (and actively enjoyed) her naked body being seeing by the uncountable number of guests. The people of all genders that visited Valhalla for short stints had delightful appetites that Mia was more than happy to indulge. But she still felt a tad embarrassed at them seeing her obvious desperation.

Mia twisted in denied ecstacy, flustered both from the withheld orgasm and the countless eyes watching her sexual yearning echoed in expert detail by the announcer. Eventually, that annoying announcer turned his attention from giving the humiliating play by play of her arousal to talking about a cat-fight between Citrine and a Greek Amazon. "It looks like our South American Amazon has found her enemy's flag. She certainly took advantage of our interest in the mermaid, that naughty minx. But all is not lost; our Greek heroine has remained vigilant. She has dropped her gun in favor of shield and whip, and is standing in the path of her new world double. Can the spartan killer stop the wild panther."

Mia didn't understand why the announcer insisted on using nicknames Citrine was certainly easier than saying wild panther or new world amazon. It probably sounded cooler but was still ridiculous enough to make Mia's emerald eyes roll.

"Rolling your eyes at us, huh" commented the woman at her woomanhood. Mia wondered what kind of soldier this woman had been: looking into her big hazel eyes and cute face, she didn't seem like a killer. But there were plenty of ways a woman could be a warrior. Perhaps this doe-eyed damsel was invited for a particular show of bravery, or perhaps she'd simply embraced a soft side upon arriving in Valhalla. Either way, Mia was interested in her story. She loved learning about each and every resident they were from so many places and times. Whoever she was, the woman was upset by Mia's silence and huffed "well you won't find this boring." Mia opened her mouth to explain but her tormentor began passionately licking her most sensitive parts while pistoning her baton, and all that escaped the mermaid's mouth were screams of pleasure.

The announcer's booming voice could still be heard. "...the spartan killer has her foe's g-string. Oh-no it ripped off. But our heroine managed to grab the She-Jaguar by the thigh and drag her to the ground.

"Wow look at them struggle on the ground." This immediately brought the image of. Citrine's bare, caramel pussy to Mia's mind; it was probably glistening with sweat, and would be surrounded by flexing muscles as she struggled. This image in turn brought the burnt-sweet taste of her teammates arousal.

Writhing near the edge of orgasm, Mia listened to the announcer describe the grunting tangle of limbs and listened as he described their garments becoming worse and worse at covering any inch of their Amazonian bodies. Maybe it was his talented descriptions or the excessive passion of the woman at her crotch that put her over the edge. Either way Mia's vision blurred and her toes dug into the soft earth as pleasure washed up and down her sun-kissed body.

Carried away by those warm waves, Mia almost missed the announcer tell how Citrine was bound by her opponent's whip, and that with all of one team subdued the match was over. And with that Mia's team had lost. "Well, grabbing her was useless" grumbled the cat-suited woman, releasing Mia..

"Not quite, at least it was fun," countered the other woman with a smile, She whiped her mouth, stood, and dragged her tongue up the length of her soiled baton.

The announcer was still talking; "... and what an ending it was. You can of course check up on contestants in their residents, but I should inform you we have some interesting new arrivals."

One final author's note before I go: I may be a decent writer by some standards, but I am a terrible editor. And this is a bit of an ambitious story for me. If you notice mistakes or have any suggestions please let me know. I may not respond to some, but all criticisms are appreciated even if you think it's just nitpicking. You can message me, comment, post on the forum, or just hit the thumbs up on the chapters you like. Thanks