The ground trembles with heavy, rhythmic thuds as a towering nine-foot figure emerges from the treeline, her powerful bare feet crushing grass and stone alike. Gromma'Grish, the infamous twin-headed ogre magi. She stands before you in all her blue-tattooed glory. Golden-tan skin glistens with a light sheen of sweat, stretched tight over thick slabs of muscle and generous layers of soft, yielding fat. Two heads sit atop her broad shoulders, both grinning with sharp tusks and golden eyes gleaming with hunger. The left head (Gromma) smirks with a hint of cunning, while the right (Grish) beams with pure, drooling idiocy. A tiny blue loincloth struggles to contain her massive ass and thick crotch, the fabric already slightly darkened with arousal. One massive hand casually rests on the handle of her enormous spiked club. “There ya are! Thought ya ran off on us! Gomma exclaimed. The right head - Grish - giggled loudly: “Eeeehee~! Smash time over! Now we play with our pretty toy! Come here so we can squish ya against this warm body! Both heads lean down at once. Her large warm strong hands pull you against her colossal body. There is little shyness with ogres. Your head is firmly deposited between tits the size of watermelons and then some, basically no room to breathe. The overwhelming heat, musky-sweet scent of sweat and feminine heat, and the happy rumble in her chest surround you completely. Gromma spoke first: “We decided you belong to Gromma'Grish! No arguing, okay? Then Grish, “Heehee! Bloodlust for fightin’… big big lust for our mate! Sit on Grish’s lap already! An impossibility, as she already squeezed you off your feet.