All A Hero Needs Is A Quest 3 (Patreon)

Vicca saw Karne start to sputter a question and couldn’t wait anymore. Her speech was steam escaping a red-hot teakettle: “I know what I said before. I don’t mean it anymore. Do it. I need it. I can’t not need it. Make it happen for me, now!”

Karne mounted her. His erection came down onto her belly. Vicca squealed at the feel of it through her cotton shift, its heat. He pulled back with his hips, drawing his prick down the length of her groin until only the tip was still touching her folds.

“Take your shift out of the way,” he ordered her, his voice a growl.

Vicca pulled her shift up the length of her thighs, over the very bottom of her crotch—she felt a cool breeze between her legs, shockingly touching her, then she was immersed in the heat coming off his loins once more. She let out a whimper as the shift cleared her hips, up over her bare belly and totally out of the way.

Vicca knew he was preparing to skewer her. She felt his hips sway forward again, still not angling his weight right to penetrate her, but that didn’t matter… the sizable projection of his body slid between her thighs and ran over her slot and caressed the bare skin of her downy loins. Flesh to flesh now. Skin to skin. His most intimate part and hers.

It should’ve terrified Vicca; she had barely even felt him like this through their clothes. But as he reeled back again, she knew it was nothing to feel him on the outside of her. Not when all that masculinity was meant to go into her. She had an infinite amount of space on her skin, she could feel all of Karne on her naked body with ease, but inside… inside she had so little room and he had so much to give her.

Karne’s muscular ass shook, tensed, ready to slot inch after inch into her pussy until all of his endowment was tucked away inside, in however big a space he needed for that massive cock.

“Be gentle, you must be gentle… it can’t all fit!” Vicca babbled, rethinking her earlier allowances. She didn’t think it was possible to be sure about a thing like this. There wasn’t enough certainty in the world for her not to think and rethink every moment of this—change. “I think you’ll have to use only some of it. Yes. Not all. Just give me a few inches and that will be enough…”

“No.”

Karne tensed his thighs, flexed his muscles, then drove into her. Perhaps not with all his strength, but with more than enough to utterly conquer Vicca. She tensed, feeling the rushing penetration of his cock forcing apart her labia, entering her, stretching every part of her cunt piece by piece.

First the outside, then the inner passage, all of them pulled to the breaking point. Then there was the horrible pain of being pierced. Her virginity defied him, but only for a moment. Karne grunted and pressed right through.

She tore. She broke. She stretched and bled. She’d been intact once, a boulder, though she’d never felt like one. Now, though… now that boulder was cracked right down the middle. She knew what it was like to be split in two.

Even if she was in one piece, her life was bisected. Her childhood, her innocence, everything before—all amputated. Everything from now on would be this, or a variation of this, or an echo of this. Her world had changed as much as it could change without ending.

Her thigh muscles shook as she felt Karne drawing back, relieving the pressure on her wounded sex, but not diminishing the throbbing soreness, the tension of violated purity that she feared would never go away.

Karne braced, then shoved into her once more. This time her hymen was not there to block his path. He pushed his knees hard against her thighs, rolled her ass upward, angling his prick so it went all the way into her.

The world seemed to come to an end. Explosions went off behind Vicca’s eyes, sending out not flames, but a brilliant multitude of hurtfully bright lights. The pain mounted, not towards an extreme but becoming different, more intense, less big. Her cunt wasn’t breaking, it was shifting, changing shape, being remade. A river didn’t change course without cataclysm, but it did change course. So did she. The slow, straight path of her life was molded afresh.

Sweat fell from Karne’s brow, splashing on her stomach and breasts as her womanhood clenched and roiled and surged like a storm all about his member. Something had to give, and however much her sex fought, it wouldn’t be the victor. Karne’s passion for her was invincible, all-consuming. It claimed her—made her permanently someone else’s and not just her own.

“WAWWHHHHH!” she cried, the veins standing out in her neck while she rasped and choked, gurgling on the emotion stuffing her throat. Vicca felt both absence and presence inside herself and an inferno of pain pressing her towards unconsciousness but too hot to let her sleep unencumbered. No, she would stay awake, however her mind was tossed about by sensation.

Every muscle in her body seemed to sharpen, pushing at the intrusion and being overcome in turn as Karne drove himself all the way into her, as a nail was driven in by a hammer. Every thick, burning inch of his cock fit tightly into her sex—she was a sheath for him now—a receptacle, incomplete until she received his fullness.

Vicca waited, prayed for the darkness of unconsciousness to steal her away from her suffering. But slumber couldn’t make it through the pain and turmoil she felt. And something inside her, something as uncompromising as that forceful erection which had laid claim to her, it howled in the sleepless light of this chaos.

She lay there, open to Karne, almost split in half to make room for him. He was fully in her, giving her every last inch of his shaft. She held something inside herself like the flame inside a volcano or the lightning inside a storm cloud. Just carrying it sent shockwaves through her womanhood, into her belly and breasts, all the way to her spinning head.

Vicca heard a scream and almost thought that it was her own, but Karne was kissing her. It had to be coming from out of the distance, carried a long way by the chill air, and she wondered who had better cause to scream than her. Then she felt a rushing down in her body, down where she was pulled so taut by the force inside her.

She remembered bathing in the warm spring, surreptitiously exploring herself as she washed, and the natural finale of her explorations when she had enough time to herself. That feeling like a lightning bolt coming down on the soft frenzy of passion inside her. That lightning struck now, knocking her hard to the ground. She felt like a puddle of water down underneath Karne, boneless, powerless—her only animated motion that of his thrusts inside her.

Another scream. It still couldn’t be hers; she didn’t have the breath within herself to make any noise. There was no room, with what Karne was doing taking up so much space inside.

“Oh Gods, Gods, it's starting to feel good… really good… I like it… I like it!”

Her body was no longer her own. It yielded to Karne. Whatever he did, she eagerly accepted. Every kiss he gave her, every caress, every thrust was her heartfelt wish. She wanted all of it. It was far too much for her and she wanted even more. Lightning struck again and again. She was in the middle of a storm. She was the storm. No, Karne was a storm and she was the land under him, pelted with rain, flashed by lightning, shaken with thunder.

She clutched at him, arms and hands tightening on all they could embrace, but it was like gripping the reins on a runaway horse. “I never knew!” she gasped intensely, not to him, but as a thought from out of a body that had no room for thoughts, that had to let them out of her mewling mouth. “I had no idea!”

Lightning. Lightning. Lightning. Vicca added her screams to the cacophony, but there was a cacophony. Screams filled the air: screams of fright, of aggression, pain and terror, hatred and violence. Vicca looked in the direction of the village. It was out of sight, but she could see the black billowing smoke of fires… tiny figures of fleeing people… men on horseback riding them down.

The raiders. They’d returned. Right now, in her moment of ecstasy, others were losing their lives.

Vicca shook at Karne’s shoulders, but he was still on top of her, pinning her to the ground with his skewering thrusts. She couldn’t even stopper her pleasure. It still consumed, pushing away the knowledge of what had happened on earlier raids they had hidden from. It was so hard to think of them, but Vicca forced herself to. They had to do something. This was obscene, enjoying themselves while their home burned.

“Karne, Karne, the village!” she moaned. “We have to help them!”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Karne grunted. She knew he was right, but did he have to keep delving into her… suffusing her body with irresistible delight…? She should be mourning, worried for her family, but he refused to let her feel anything but ecstasy.

“Karne!” she cried dismally, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

“I can’t stop,” he told her.

Nor could Vicca. She didn’t recognize herself. She was a ravenous beast. Karne was both her prey and a beast himself. She’d once thought him sweet, innocent. She’d thought of herself that way too. Now he was a rutting, grunting animal and she was the woman who loved that animal.

He made her feel him with each hammering blow. It wasn’t just his manhood. It was his skin—one big inducement to sin—his clothes against her bare flesh and tangled shift reminding her of how wrong and rotten this was.

Another thrust. His body against hers was heated and muscular and demanding. One feel of it and she knew he was strong enough to hold her down and continue this intensity forever. Her breasts felt swollen, love-pained from being squeezed against his chest. Their legs rubbed together—her trying to entwine with him and him trying to pin her down, spread her, penetrate even further into her.

It wasn’t just him that was overwhelming her. It was her own instinct. She pulsed with the same throb that was inside him, in his cock, being driven into her. All of him felt like it was going into her.

His face was buried in her hair, his voice drilling into her ears: “I can’t stop, Vic, I can’t stop.”

Her own ragged breathing scorched her eardrums too. She could only imagine how loud it was for Karne. How much he heard of her pleasure in each labored rasp. She forgot everything in the burning heat of being his.

Later, the guilt would have its way with her, but for now, Karne left nothing of her for it to get its claws into. She was all taken up by how real and vivid and wonderful it was to be a bride—she could be nothing else but a bride.