Her lips barely twitched, but her hand didn't stop. Instead, her strokes slowed, more methodical now, testing how hard she could squeeze without drawing a reaction. Her thumb circled the tip, smearing pre-cum like paint, then ran it along the small slit.
Her eyes stayed locked on his iron-hard shaft, calculating and curious. But something inside her was changing.
She didn't say a word as parts of her magical suit peeled away. Just a ripple of dark magic and part of it disappeared, baring her pale, perfectly sculpted breasts. Her medium-sized bosom was round and perking up proudly, topped with taut, pale pink nipples.
Fuck! Marshall groaned at the sight.
Ignoring Marshall's hungry look, Hela's hands kept going. She had watched this man rut into witches and monsters alike. Seen how his muscles flexed, how his voice growled, how those women broke, folded, submitted beneath him. She'd sneered at them all. Powerless, pathetic, mortal bitches. But now, her own hand was around the same cock, and it was pulsing hot in her palm.
She could feel its weight, its heat. The twitch of life inside it. A weapon of domination, of corruption, of pleasure, and it was hers now. In her hand. And she hated how much she wanted to feel more.
Her face drifted lower, unconsciously drawn in. She could hear it, the sound of his breath when she touched just right. The wet squelch of his cock against her palm. Her nostrils flared. Her tongue tingled.
Her breath brushed the head of his cock.
Marshall didn't say a thing. Just watched her, smiling lazily like a man already halfway to heaven. He didn't push. Didn't guide her. He let her burn in her own slow descent.
Hela's lips parted. Her tongue slid out, soft and wet. A string of spit stretched from her mouth as she leaned in, and then she licked it. Just a single, teasing lick. From the underside of his swollen cockhead, right to the droplet at the slit.
Marshall curled his toes as he watched. The Goddess of Death, proud and unbending, now on her knees, licking his cock. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to grab the back of her skull and shove it down. Make her choke on every inch. Break that smug composure. But for now, he let her keep the illusion of control.
Hela's lips parted wider. She slid forward and wrapped them around the flushed head of his cock.
"Ghh…ffuck," Marshall grunted, his head falling back.
Her lips were like velvet. Soft, plush, impossibly warm. Her mouth sealed, sucking slowly, deliberately, tongue flicking across the opening as if savoring it like a rare delicacy. She looked up, and the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth when she saw his expression.
"Still disgusting," she whispered, her voice vibrating on his skin. "But I've tasted worse."
Marshall exhaled sharply. His thoughts spiraled, cock twitching in her grip. Fuck! Is Odin watching this? Ugh, fuck it. He gave her to me. If fucking her fixes things, I'll fuck her for eternity. Thank me later, All-Father.
Slowly. Sloppily. Her lips wrapped around his cock with more curiosity than skill, head bobbing with a choppy rhythm as she attempted to mimic what she'd seen. Her tongue grazed the underside of his shaft like she was tracing him, studying him. She wasn't good at it. Not even close. But fuck, was it hot to see her try.
"Ugh…" Marshall groaned, more amused than pleased. But he couldn't take it anymore and abruptly stood.
Hela stayed on her knees, and even then, being the towering goddess she was, her mouth was right there, at perfect height. His cock was still halfway stuffed inside her mouth when he gripped the back of her head and fisted a thick handful of her black hair.
"You've got no idea what you're doing, do you? Then watch closely. I'll show you how I fuck a mouth—I'll… be… gentle… on the choking!"
Hela's eyes widened as he yanked her head closer and slammed his hips in.
"Gluk!"
Her mouth was ruined in one thrust. His cock rammed all the way down, stretching her throat to the base, until her lips were smothered against his pubes. That thick, musky scent hit her brain like a drug. A male, brutal, sweat-laced filth. She gagged violently, coughed hard, spit bubbling around the seal of her lips. Her eyes rolled, and tears spilled instantly.
She couldn't breathe. But she didn't pull back. She didn't push him away.
Her pride screamed, but her loins throbbed. She had ruled with a glare, reduced armies to bones with a whisper, and now she was a cocksheath. Nothing more than a hole for him to fuck. And somehow… somehow, it made her melt.
This was the secret those women knew, the ones who screamed his name, scratched down his back, and begged for more while he bent them to his will. Like they were being wrecked by something holy and vile at once.
Marshall didn't even pause, he didn't let her think too much. He started to use her mouth, fucking it, claiming it, driving into her throat with heavy, wet thrusts. Self-control was impossible when his caveman side was out.
Her pale face twisted each time his cock bottomed out. Her mascara ran black lines down her cheeks. Her mouth made obscene, gagging noises. Her tears dripped down her chin, mixing with the spit and pre-cum that foamed around her lips. His grip on her hair tightened with every plunge, making them messy, as if daring her to flinch. But she took it. She took every inch of it like she owed him.
Like it was a challenge, and she was aiming to win.
Her brain pulsed with fevered lust. The weight of his cock bouncing in her mouth, slapping her tonsils, twitching across her tongue, it was delicious.
"Ummhh! Ummh! Unggg!"
Every pump fucked a new moan out of her. Her hands slid over her own chest, squeezing her tits like she was fucking herself through him. Her cunt dripped down her thighs, untouched and aching, hidden.
Then, with a grunt, she reached for his balls, greedy, curious, and squeezed them just a little too hard.
"Aaaargh—fuck, Hela!" Marshall snarled, jerking forward as his cock twitched violently in her throat. "If you squeeze that—!"
He didn't warn her again. He jammed himself deep. Buried to the hilt in this goddess's throat. Then his cock exploded. Thick. Unstoppable. His batter splashed down the back of her throat like molten glue.
"Aaghgk…!"
Hela gagged, hard. Her eyes snapped wide. Her body jolted like lightning had hit her spine. She couldn't swallow fast enough; there was too much. The first gush choked her. The second almost burst out of her nose. The third overflowed, dripping from the corners of her mouth and down her chin in long, ropy globs.
He didn't stop. He fucked her mouth while cumming, grinding in deeper, like he was trying to push it into her soul. His cock churned inside her, stirring the cream already flooding her throat, forcing her to gulp around the thickness.
And finally, she did.
Gulp... Gulp...
Her throat worked around him like a living thing, milking him dry while spit and cum clung to her lips and dripped from her chin in strings. Her eyes streamed, her tits heaved. Her face was a painted mess. But she looked beautiful like this, wrecked and swallowing.
Marshall stared. The goddess of death, on her knees, gurgling on his seed, her jaw slack, her lips still hugging the base of his twitching cock. His cum leaked down her throat, her nose, her tits.
And he was already hard again. Still inside her. Still throbbing. Not even soft yet.
"Fuck… You… are… amazing." Marshall finally pulled his cock out slowly, agonizingly.
Panting, Hela stood up, her eyes weak. She didn't bother to clean up so fast. She just stared at Marshall, brows furrowed in fury.
"Wanna continue? I can do this all night." Marshall offered her, unable to look away from her round tits. "You've seen enough. Time to experience it."
"You filthy creature." Hela sneered at him. "I'm Hela, Goddess of Death. How dare you suggest that? You, a man—"
"What?" Marshall interrupted her, chuckling. "Don't tell me, you're a virgin? Bahaha!"
"..."
"How old are you? Gotta be a few thousand, no?" Marshall kept going. "What's the big deal? Once you're that old, sex is just spice that makes living fun. But I guess, since you've never experienced it, you can't say that."
"There is nothing noble about it. It's a disgusting act of vile, lesser creatures."
"Really? You're saying it as if Odin didn't do it with his woman."
Hela frowned, understandable as she just imagined something.
Honestly, Marshall only planned for a blowjob initially. But since Hela was already there, he wanted to have a look down there between her long, lovely legs.
"Come here, take a seat." Marshall gently held her hand and moved her with ease. He made Hela sit down on the same chair with no armrests. "Since you used your mouth, I'll use mine. That sounds fair, no?"
Hela said nothing and just watched him, her beautiful hair a mess now.
Marshall loved that messy look on her.
Once he made her settle down, he got down on his knees, spread her legs, and eased between them. He went as close as he could to the magical fabric over her crotch. Then, he grabbed her beautiful legs and placed them on his shoulders, pinning his head in between.
"Umm… Can't use my tongue if you keep it covered, Hela."
"Hmph!"
She scoffed.
And yet, the fabric vanished. The area between her legs and around her hips was now bare, making it seem as if she was just wearing knee-length, long, dark boots.
Fuck! So soft!
He felt her naked thighs on the side of his face and melted. But then, he eyed her moist core, that untouched slit of the Goddess of Death. He was the first man to reach that far. And damn right, he was going to be her regular man as well.
"Mmmh…" Hela breathily moaned.
His mouth opened, and he feasted on her nectar. His tongue flattened and dragged up from her entrance to her swollen little clit, slow and steady, tasting her like he wanted to memorize each fold.
"Ummmm… F-ukh… You… taste… great…" he groaned, pressing in deeper. His tongue explored her like it belonged there. Lapped at her soft flesh and drank from her.
He glanced up and saw it. Her blush. Her mouth parted. Her breath was shaky. Marshall grinned and dove back in, this time faster, greedier. Tongue-fucking her wet core, swirling against her clit, then diving deeper again.
Hela twitched each time he pushed in, as if shocked at how good it felt. Her body was trembling uncontrollably.
His tongue slid inside her, curled, pressed against the soft heat within. He fucked her pussy with his mouth, grinding his face into her, licking, slurping, moaning into her wet heat like he was starved. No shame, just a hungry man.
Hela's hips jerked, feeling the vibration of his groans. Her soft thighs trembled.
Marshall could feel her pussy trying to clench around his tongue. Her thighs squeezed against his head. She was close. So close. And right when she was about to tumble over…
Marshall stood.
Still holding her legs in the same place, he rose to full height, the underside of her knees pinned wide on his shoulders still. By that sudden shift, and her legs' position, her tall, powerful body slid down the chair, her ass now dangling just off the edge. Her entire back arched into a beautiful curve, hair spilling, arms reaching for something, anything, to stabilize herself. She gasped. Her world tilted.
Marshall kept her pinned, folded like an offering. Her knees beside her head now. Her tall frame bent at his mercy. And he loved every fucking inch of her. There was a submission in that position.
But he wanted more. He leaned over her fully, pressing her down, keeping her legs hooked high on his shoulders. His hands slid past her, gripping the chair's backrest. One hand on either side of her head, caging her in.
She stared up at him. Her body was pinned, contorted, folded in a way that should've been humiliating, on a chair of all things. Her sharp boots pointed to the ceiling. Thanks to her arched back, right in front of her, his cock slid on her belly. Still glistening from earlier. She had the direct view of her feminine core, all at his mercy.
Her pussy twitched each time the underside of his shaft dragged across it. It was so sensitive now, so slick and drooling and swollen. Every little graze made her legs spasm. Her folds pulsed, twitching, breathing. Her cunt practically begged for it.
"Hela… Guide it in." He didn't ask. He told her.
And, as if his words hypnotized her. In pure heat, Hela did it.
Her hand reached down with trembling fingers. It wasn't a thought, it was instinct. Her fingertips brushed his scorching cock, and she shivered. She gripped him, felt the heat, the pulse, the violence coiled within, and aimed it at her dripping entrance.
Marshall watched. Every moment. Her goddess hand guiding his cock into her virgin cunt. Her pussy lips widened a little as his cockhead kissed it, and he pressed forward.
Her pussy slowly stretched around him. Painfully tight. The pink folds wrapped around the thick, veiny crown of his cock.
Marshall grunted, feeling that delicious resistance. Tight, velvety walls squeezing him like wet silk. Then—snap!
That tight barrier gave way, and his cock sank in an inch deeper. He froze for a second, breathing heavily. Then he pulled back and saw it.
Crimson—The Goddess of Death, had bled for him.
Odin can't kill me. Yeah… he won't mind anyway.
Hela blinked. She felt the slow stretch, the pressure. His cock pushed deeper into her than anything ever had. The first cock of her life. And her mind spun. She looked down and saw the smear of red.
She wasn't shocked. She didn't panic. There was no pain. She was used to it. She just stared. And then watched as he pushed deeper. Pulled back. Sank in again.
And then it happened. Warmth.
That fulfilling heat in her belly. His cock throbbing inside her, pressing against her sensitive spots, each pulse sending a strange spark up her spine. It tickled, then burned, then blossomed. The scraping, the bumping, the way he lodged deeper each time, it overwhelmed her.
Her brain melted. She started to understand why humans worshiped this. Why women crave it. Her pussy started to clench on him subconsciously. Her body wanted him to stay inside, to fill her.
And then…
Plap!
The first sound.
Plap!
The second.
Marshall found his rhythm. Once he had it, he owned it. Every thrust slammed into her, knocking the breath out of her lungs. His hips cracked forward with force, plunging into her like a jackhammer.
The chair groaned under their weight, but neither of them cared. They were beyond mortal limits. They needed this to be rough, savage. Their bodies could take it. Their lust demanded it.
His cock grounded into her each time with violent purpose, burying himself to the hilt. The ripples were visible on her thighs and ass, soft as marshmallows. His balls slapped wetly against her ass, the squelching noises between them slick and constant.
Her pussy clung to him, begging for him to stay. Hugging every vein, twitching with every stroke, milking his cock with a desperate, godly grip.
"Oohhh… You… Feel… Woo–onderful… Marshall," Hela breathed out each word between the heavy thrusts of his cock.
"As do you, Hela," Marshall muttered, panting. He glanced down at her face, pale, insanely beautiful—and blinked. Somehow, impossibly, it was clean. No spit, no cum, no smeared lipstick. She must've used some kind of magic spell.
That didn't stop him.
He leaned down and devoured her mouth in a heated, primitive kiss. His tongue plunged between her lips, claiming her mouth just as he had claimed her cunt. Her first in every way possible.
Hela moaned into him, kissing back with equal greed, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. She held on like a woman addicted. Her legs remained bent back, pinned against his chest and shoulders. Her entire body aching, overstretched, and contorted in that folded position, and yet she loved every bit of it.
That pressure inside her belly kept growing. A dangerous, dizzying pressure. It swelled like a stormcloud, heavy and urgent, like her womb didn't want to give up this feeling. Her body clenched tighter, thighs trembling, pussy fluttering around his cock with frantic need. She didn't want to let go. But she couldn't stop it.
"Mmmhh… N-no, wait—" she whimpered, barely audible. Her legs twitched, instinctively trying to push him away.
Marshall didn't let her. He gritted his teeth and kept fucking her. Brutal, deep, hard. His grip held her in place, overpowering her bucking thighs. Having Hela on that chair, folded, stretched, fucking like an animal, was insanely thrilling.
"No," he growled. "Don't fight it. Take it."
Hela gulped and shuddered.
The climax struck like a bolt through her spine. Mind-numbing, bone-shaking, soul-splitting. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream. Her pussy exploded in clenching spasms, soaking his cock with fresh gushes of nectar. Her back arched. Her eyes rolled back. She saw stars, literally. Her body convulsed as the pleasure broke her. She wasn't even moaning anymore, just gasping, whimpering, shaking.
She'd never felt anything like it. Not from power. Not from battle. This was different. Raw, consuming, fucking with her mind.
And just as her orgasm started to wane, Marshall also burst. Right against her godly womb.
His fat, wall-stretching cock throbbed and fired in thick, mean, heavy spurts. Globs of molten seed blasted deep into her womb, coating her flushed, swollen insides with viscous cream. He didn't pull out. He stuffed it all in, each pulse deeper than the last. The pressure built inside her, and her walls clenched to keep it.
When he pulled back just a little, they both looked at the mess.
A creamy, glossy mess. Her cunt, dripping, stretched, flushed red, and twitching. Cream pouring from her like a desecrated altar.
Hela blinked. Her thoughts were slow, sticky, and floating.
She felt it inside her, shifting when she moved. Hot, so hot it tingled deep within her core. This was what it felt like to be filled. Her fingers drifted to her pale lower belly, as if trying to hold the heat in place. It was more than warm, it was thrilling, addictive. Her long legs trembled involuntarily, and her pussy spasmed around the mess he'd left behind. Her body was already craving more.
"Ain't stopping so early." Marshall declared and suddenly threw his arms around Hela's waist, keeping her legs pressed against his chest, on his shoulder. In that folded, awkward position, he lifted her and took her to the bed, throwing her down.
He never took his cock out, and in a classic missionary, he got on top of her, letting her insanely long legs wrap around his waist, over his back.
"No need to, Marshall."
And he didn't.
That entire night. Hela lost her shame and embarrassment.
Marshall, that night, earned the ire of Odin.
But it was one tight, hot, relishing night. He had no regrets.
Odin can fuck off.
______________________
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