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"Ghuhh,...hgh, sooo tight..."
What a fool you were. Provoking the Knight of Boreas. In the forest, your frenzied cries were only echoes of nature taking it's course. Predator meets prey.
There's no one to blame but yourself for the predicament you're currently in : legs raised up in the air swinging back and forth with each battering forward of Varka's hips, ass resting on his long coat now drenched with the mix of your bodily fluids and the stain of the turquoise grass underneath it, trembling arms clutching his back and holding on for dear life while he absolutely ruins you.
"Ahh, hmm... heh, it's going in so easily now."
That scoundrel has the nerve to chuckle!
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This evening started out with the both of you in quite different positions.
"Huh? Well what's this wandering mousebear doing here?" Varka yelled upon spotting you, immediately ditching the knights he was dispatching just seconds before you arrived. Believe it or not, the initial intent of your visit was to discuss important business.
But then of course, in classic Mondstadtian fashion, Varka had wanted a drink. Then another drink. Third one's the charm. If three, why not four? If four, why not five...
Before long, he was proper drunk. You as well, because drinking with him always gets competitive. And, a drunk Varka is a touchy Varka. A drunk you is a horny you.
So, while he innocently held you close on the log you were sitting on and rambled on and on about how much he missed his homeland, you pondered on when would be a good time to take a hands on approach on answering an age-old question of yours : how big was Varka's cock?
After much thought, you decided there was no better time than right now, at that moment. Your hand found itself squeezing his meaty thigh, and he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at it.
And then, it went up...following along the length of his rectus femoris before it dangerously trailed over to-
"Watch where you put your hands, mousebear. I might get the wrong idea."
Oh, but that was precisely what you wanted. With a firm grip, you ended your hand's travels and finally cupped that enticing bulge right between his legs. You felt his large frame shudder against yours.
"I-Darn, how do I say this?" Varka muttered, uncharacteristically shy. The way his eyes were darting around, looking towards anywhere but you, clashed with the image you held of his usual boisterous and care-free self.
"You're...You're very pretty. Very, very pretty." His voice was so small, admitedly threading on a dangerous path. "But...I'm a little old for ya. Not the right size, as well. Not like anyone can match that, but you know what I mean. I might hurt you if–what are–why are you on your knees?!"
His words went in one ear and went right out the other. It was very obvious what you were intending to do. Screw the evident differences that would've held you back had you both been sober. You wanted him, and you didn't give a single fuck about self-preservation right now.
Despite his attempts to be a righteous man, Varka didn't push you away, letting you unzip his pants. So much for chivalry. As soon as his gigantic cock slapped you right in the face, his sounds of vague, half-hearted sloppy disagreeing turned to groans of carnal satisfaction accompagnied by eager thrusts.
He was, however, right about one thing.
He was too damn big for you.
Once you two got past third base which in itself was a tenuous battle your aching jaw almost lost, it quickly became evident your drool would not suffice. Neither would the lube Varka had to stumble back to the Keep and rummage through his belongings to find after a heated, slurred and barely meant argument about using wine as a subtitute occured between you two.
In the very moment that you sat above him half-naked, lined up and ready to sink yourself down on his stupidly massive length, the reality of it came crashing down. His fingers had already been stupidly thick, with just three of them enough to have made you bashfully beg for more. But his cock? Fuck, it might break you. It was thicker than your own damn arm!
Still, a valiant soldier never runs from a battle.
Your groans and whimpers echoed through the moonlit clearing you two had disappeared off to as Varka laid there, arms crossed behind his head and gaze fixed forward, eagerly anticipating your next move.
He watched you struggle to impale yourself on his terribly large dick. Every inch had to be gently fed to your winking hole lest it tear and possibly bleed. Your eyes were shining with unshed tears, unwilling to cry in front of him which, in your muddled intoxicated mind, would correspond to daring to appear weak. You didn't want him to think you were weak.
Nonetheless, it was a sight that stirred a certain warmth in his loins that he wished he could deny was there in the first place.
If he shoved you all the way down, would you sob for him?
And, just like you with your earlier curious fondling, Varka decided it was the perfect time to experiment a little and find the answer to that thought among many others(Would you cry out his name when you came? How many orgasms will it take for you to pass out?) He grabbed your hips and with a single, unforgiving thrust, he sunk in balls-deep.
Your sudden raw wailing could've woken up the dead. He didn't blame you. After all, how rude was it of him to shove you down like that, when it took you so long already just to fit yourself on half of his length?
Yet, as he looked up at you and saw those gorgeous crystal tears rolling down your cheeks... your puffy red eyes, your quivering lips, the proof of how wide and far he was stretching you with that visible bulge of your insides that stretched your abdomen's skin... holding back suddenly seemed out of the question entirely.
All it took was one single roll of his hips upwards for Varka to turn your brain to mush and make you lose your means. Afterwards, what other choice could he possibly have taken he have other than bouncing you on his cock himself?
The painful sensation of being taken whole overshadowed the sting of his fingers digging into your waist as your tremulous body went slack against him from being forced to take such a big thing. Soon enough, he was fucking you like you were his toy.
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And that's exactly how you got here, with Varka pounding into your now stretched hole like a man on a mission. After plenty of bullying, the winking crevice was spread open and swallowing him in like he belonged there. He was panting into your ear like an animal, having flipped you over right after your first two orgasms to focus on one single goal : filling you up to the brim.
He wasn't showing any signs of stopping anytime soon. What had you gotten yourself into?
His entire frame swallowed you up, cradling your dominated form. Your legs were folded on his shoulders being worn like a necklace, shaking in tandem with his back-and-forths.
"Huff, huhn... gahh, keep squeezing me like that..."
No matter the situation, you could always count on Varka to be a chatterbox. This was no exception. On and on he rambled about how perfect you felt, how he was gonna dream of this night for the next month or so, how pretty your face looked when you were so wrecked.
"Mmh, ah... sweetheart, lil' mouse... gimme another, c'mon."
A sharp cry was wrung out of your soon to be sore throat by his merciless touch. He was rubbing your sex raw, trying to coax out another orgasm from you.
"Var...ka... m-nhh-"
"I know dear, I know... ghhh... just one more, okay?"
You shook your head, ashamed despite the strong desire to give him what he craves. Had this been a regular scuffle for dominance, you would've came off as truly pitiful since you managed to miserably lose and surrender all of yourself to Varka. You couldn't even ride his dick on your own!
Varka himself didn't care. He always loved a good fight, be it in matters of the sword or intimacy. But, there was only so much you could do with the fate of this encounter already written ahead.
Inevitably, your defeat came. Which in turn caused those magnificent droplets to trail down your reddening cheeks that spurred Varka to keep going, long since past the state of following his gentlemanly code. He was claiming you, intending to selfishly maintain his ruthless pace until he had gotten his fill.
His hammering of your sweet spot once more tore open the tight knot in your gut, sending mind-breaking ecstasy travelling through your every nerve. For a moment, your entire body sung for him, your sex twitching and leaking just for your dear companion of the flesh.
"Varkaaaaa...!" You wailed, twisting yourself in pleasure below him as he worked you over the edge for the third time tonight.
"Y-Yea, yea, that's it... ! Ohoh, look at ya... !"
You got to experience what it's like to be a ragdoll as Varka's pace got faster. Your body was moving on it's own from his relentless motions, the control of it all yielded in the name of getting a good dicking. All you could process was his loud grunts that were raising in volume by the second, your spirit lost to the overstimulation he was so graciously providing to your insides with the drag of his length against your sensitive, quivering walls.
"Ah-hh... Where, sweetheart?"
It took you a good twenty seconds to even realise he was saying words. How touching of him to at least ask, despite your evident lack of awareness that rendered you unable to answer him.
Varka filling you up... to your addled mind, that seemed right as rain. He had won, you were his spoils of war. Why bother resisting?
Varka himself stopped pretending to be just. Upon noticing the drool trickling down from the corner of your mouth and the glazed over look in your eyes, he muttered a small apology before came his harshest, roughest thrusts. They intensified, unstoppable and unyielding, a consequence of the Grandmaster seeking his own undoing.
His groans turned into yells until finally, with a thundering roar, his hips trembled against yours, leading to their concluding last few driving forward. At last he filled you whole like you both craved, spilling deep inside and coating every crevice with his seed.
He kept humping you, so taken by the intoxicating rapture of his orgasm that he couldn't help but follow the biological urge to lay his claim on you by pushing his cum further in. In fact, his head that had sunken into the crook of your neck was even mouthing at your exposed skin, intending to bite.
You willingly lolled your head to the side. Teeth sunk in along the vital vein there, this close to nipping it. You were his now, stuck under his strong jaw and between his strong arms, ripe for further taking... but instead, Varka detached from you and lifted you up, moving with unknown purpose while you slowly drifted off to sleep. You don't remember much, but the last thing you feel before embracing the well-earned rest is tender warmth all around you.
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You're woken up by loud snores. Beneath you, the Knight of Boreas is fast asleep and slobbering all over your hair with his arm holding you close. You're in his tent, your bare skin pressed against his and covered up by a blanket.
Your head is pounding like never before. How much did you have to drink, to end up in bed with him?
The few blurred memories of last night tells you a very undignified but raunchy story. What a fine lay Varka ended up being... such a shame this would make things between you awkward from now on.
Speaking of him, the firm and large log that you were resting on also known as Varka's hairy torso was beginning to stir. His snores turned to small intakes of air, and with a loud yawn the man below you began to wake.
He slowly blinked once, then twice, then thrice as he realised the weight on his chest was a living, breathing person. Someone that he knew very well. You.
You looked up at him.
"Oh, shit."
You couldn't help but snort. Ever the eloquent man sometimes. While you didn't regret what you did a single bit, you could understand why Varka was now franctically fumbling with his words in shame. He had lost all control, had claimed you as his without a single care for your honour, all because you looked so pretty while you cried.
"Listen–I'm very sorry, alright? Let me escort you–wait, where'd I put your clothes..."
Still, his sheepish reaction managed to strike your ego. Did he not enjoy it as much as you did?
"Sir Varka." You interrupted him, sitting up. He instinctively looked away, keeping his eyes firmly away from your naked form. This would have made fear well up within you... if you didn't feel a familiar bulge twitch against your behind. Would you look at that.
"I believe there is still much more that you can give me." Leaning forward and pursing your lips together, you gently helped guide his down-cast head back up, your gaze meeting his. That flushed expression of his looked just as magnificent in the moonlight-bitten night as it did in the dawn's sunny wake.
"I–I shouldn't." He whispered downtroddenly.
"Are you a knight, or a monk?"
You watched his throat work to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth, his body relaxing with a final sigh. His gaze changed from that of a kicked puppy to his classic determined look. There he is, the Grandmaster you know and love.
"Fair enough... fine then. Time for round two!"
So quickly he let himself fall for the call of your desire. You were flipped over once more, and in came yet another instance of Varka and you giving yourselves up to the throes of pleasure. One of the many to follow, you're sure, once you two talked this out.