The Fall of Olga the Plentiful

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful, boastful sword-maiden. Her hair was the hue of pale sunlight, with eyes so blue they seemed to almost glow. She had lived through twenty-five summers upon this frightful land and earned her right to see another sunrise.

But that’s not why you’re here, isn’t it? Fine, fine…I’ll cut to the chase.

While she was a skilled and fearsome warrior, that’s not what people around these parts remember her for—to them, she was a masterpiece of woman-flesh. She had breasts the size of ripe watermelons, dusted lightly with freckles. They were abnormally perky, despite their size. While the female elite had found a way to plumpen their teats without the help of God, those few who copped a feel and lived to talk about it would tell you that this maiden’s bust was all-natural. Her arms were muscular, yet still possessed the padding necessary to make them lovely. Her legs were long, but thick and sturdy, thighs and calves fat with muscle. But they were overshadowed by her second greatest asset—pun intended—as they tapered upward into a breathtaking pair of ass-cheeks. Years of hunting and drinking herself nearly blind had come together to create the wonder of her backside. Each plump moon shook like it had a life of its own as she strutted through town.

The menfolk called her Olga the Wyvern-Cleaver. The ogres and goblins and other nightmarish creatures called her something I can't print here. I can print it over here, though.

Olga the Plentiful for short, if they lived that long to get that out before she cleaved their heads from off their shoulders.

But that’s the thing about orcs and goblins and other nightmarish creatures. Some of them can be cunning as fuck when they want to be. One such orc was of that variety and decided that after years of watching this human cow go through his people like shit through a goose, he’d be something else I can't print here, but over here. :D

Got it.

Good.

He had one thing on his side when he appeared at her tavern one evening, pretending to look for work when what he wanted was the meal to end all meals: Years of butchering the monsters of the world—his kinfolk—had made Olga a might overconfident in her abilities. So feared was she by the menagerie that lived in the darkest corners of her world, she no longer bothered to keep her guard up; none of them in their right mind would dare challenge her…at least not without a quart of cheap hooch in their bellies. Then the woman went one step further—she began taunting the less human of her clientele by wearing the skimpiest outfits possible. Worse—when she was drunk enough—she’d sashay through the joint in the buff. As lovely as she was fully clothed, she was a living wet dream in her birthday suit. Man and monster alike drooled at the rare sight of the mighty warrior woman when she tied one on, drinking in the sight of the lack of sun on her teats, cunt and ass, leaving large swaths of that flesh a few hues paler than the rest of her.

This skinny little orc would be no different from the rest of them, Olga sneered as she hired the monster on the spot and promptly sent him to clean the latrines. If he tried anything funny, she’d just kill his shrimpy ass and call it a day. So to the shithouses the little fool went and clean them he did. He was willing to do anything to stay in the blonde Amazon’s employ long enough to pump his dick in and out of the moon-sized moons of her butt. As his nose was assaulted the pungent scent of feces, he was deciding on doing something--you guessed it--here's the link.

As a matter of fact, I'll save the rest of our sordid little tale over at my blog, where you can read it and other stories in their entirety.

See you there!