Page 27

CHAPTER 27

M ary

“Alright,” Sven told him. “You can stop filming.”

A beep sounded from the camera.

“Now can we fuck their cunts and their asses?” Erik asked. “I got hard again watching that.”

I trembled as I heard Sven’s response, my body still quivering from the intensity of my last orgasm.

“I’m hard again too,” my Herra growled, his voice thick with lust. “We should definitely use these little whores thoroughly while we wait for Beaumont’s response. I want to enjoy both of them before we have to hand them over to that trillionaire bastard.”

My heart raced at his words. I tried desperately to remind myself that Sven was acting this way to help solidify our cover story. This wasn’t really him—it was all part of the mission. But to my dismay and shame, I found myself losing the ability to distinguish between the act and reality.

Sven’s large hands gripped my hips, roughly flipping me onto my front, on all fours. The coarse horse blanket scratched against my tender skin, a sharp counterpoint to the lingering pleasure still thrumming through my body. I craned my face over my shoulder and gazed up at him, my vision blurry with unshed tears. I saw no trace of the gentle man who had held me so tenderly just hours before. His blue eyes were cold and predatory as they raked over my naked form.

“Arch your back, slut,” he commanded, his voice harsh. “Show me that needy little cunt of yours.”

I obeyed without hesitation, my back bending and my hips rising as if of their own accord. My cheeks burned with humiliation as I exposed myself so wantonly, but I couldn’t deny the pulse of arousal that shot through me at Sven’s commanding tone.

Beside me, I heard Camille whimper as Erik manhandled her into a similar position. The sound of flesh striking flesh echoed through the stable, followed by Camille’s cry of pain and Erik’s dark chuckle. “That’s it, whore. Arch your back and present that ass to me.”

Sven’s massive frame loomed over me. I could see the thick outline of his erection straining against his jeans, and my mouth went dry with a mixture of fear and anticipation. He unfastened his belt slowly, the soft clink of metal unnaturally loud in the charged atmosphere of the stable.

“Please,” I whispered, not sure if I was begging him to stop or to hurry. My body trembled with need, even as my mind recoiled at the thought of being used so roughly.

Sven’s hand cracked across my face, the sharp sting of the slap bringing fresh tears to my eyes. “Did I say you could speak, cunt?” he snarled. “The only sounds I want to hear from you are screams and moans.”

I nodded mutely, my cheek throbbing from the blow. Sven unzipped his fly, freeing his massive cock. Despite how well I had already gotten to know it—even having had him in my mouth only a few minutes earlier—the sight of it now made me gasp.

“Hey,” Erik said from behind me. “Let’s put them over a hay bale, with their faces and asses next to each other. That’ll make it easy to compare.”

I swallowed hard. Camille let out a whimper that made me turn my face over my other shoulder, where I could just make eye contact with her. My tummy flipped as I saw the look in my fellow volva ’s eyes: the picture, I felt sure, of the same conflict that swirled inside me.

Then I saw that Erik had picked up a hay bale, and covered it with another old horse blanket. I felt Sven pick me up off the ground and I cried out as he carried me toward the bale, where Erik had already started to position Camille.

I trembled as Sven laid me next to her. Some of the rough straw came through the blanket, poking into my tender skin. My face pressed against Camille’s hip, her warm flesh contrasting with the cool air of the stable. I could smell the lingering scent of her arousal mingled with sweat and fear. My own scent, I realized with a jolt of shame, must be just as strong in Camille’s nostrils.

As Sven’s large hands gripped my hips, spreading me open, I felt again the confusing surge of arousal course through my body. No matter how many times it happened, it seemed, the heat in my face and between my thighs remained the same.

I don’t want this , I told myself. Our masters… No, these horrible men… they’ve kidnapped us. They’re treating us like objects, using us for their pleasure with no regard for our comfort or consent.

And yet… my traitorous body responded eagerly to the touch of the kidnapper my beloved Herra had to pretend to be. My pussy clenched and I could feel my sheath growing slick with need.

“I’ll take the redhead’s mouth and the brunette’s cunt,” Sven said. “Then we can switch.”

Instinctively I pursed my lips closed as I found Sven’s enormous cock brushing against them. I heard Camille let out a closed-mouth mew and I knew her master must have demanded the same shameful service. Somehow, I realized distantly, Sven and Erik had orchestrated the scene so that our resistance would emerge, and fool our unseen watchers.

I felt Sven’s hand tangle in my hair, yanking my head back painfully. “Open your mouth, slut,” he growled. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

Trembling, I parted my lips. Immediately, Sven thrust his massive cock inside, filling my mouth completely. I heard the wet sounds of Camille’s obedience, briefly. Then, as Sven began to fuck my face with long, deep strokes, I felt Erik’s hands grip my hips. His thick cock probed at my entrance, and I couldn’t help but moan around Sven’s shaft as Erik pushed inside me. The dual penetration was overwhelming, my body stretched and filled in ways I had never experienced before.

Sven pulled his cock from between my lips. I sobbed with too many emotions to count as, right next to my face, he took hold of Camille’s waist and thrust into her pussy.

Beside me, I could feel Camille’s body jerk and shudder as my master used her the same way hers did me. Her hip pressed against my cheek, the movement rhythmic as Sven thrust into her. Then Erik had pulled out of my needy sheath, and I could hear my friend’s muffled cries, punctuated by the wet sounds of Erik’s cock plunging in and out of her mouth.

Sven returned to my mouth, and I tasted Camille again, this time mingled with my Herra ’s distinctive, dark, masculine musk. Then, without warning, he moved back to Camille, thrusting his cock deep into her vagina. I watched, mesmerized and horrified, as he began to fuck her very hard. His shaft glistened with my saliva and the mortifying evidence of Camille’s helpless arousal.

As Sven used Camille’s pussy, Erik’s pace inside me increased too. His fingers dug into my hips, surely leaving bruises. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through my body, making me cry out despite my best efforts to stay silent.

“That’s it, little whore,” Erik grunted. “Take my cock like a good little slut.”

I buried my face against the scratchy horse blanket, trying to muffle my moans. But there was no escaping the sensations assaulting my body. Erik’s thick shaft stretched me deliciously, hitting spots inside me that lit up my nervous system with terrible pleasure.

Suddenly, Sven was back, his cock pressing against my lips once more. I could taste Camille on him now even more strongly, her tangy flavor mingling with his own more intensely. The knowledge that I was tasting my friend’s most intimate essence on our captor’s cock sent shame and arousal rocketing through me.

“Suck it clean,” Sven commanded. “Show me what a good little cocksucker you are.”

I felt myself slipping into that strange, altered state I had experienced before. The physical sensations—the stretch of my jaw around Sven’s thick shaft, Erik’s relentless thrusting into my aching pussy—began to fade away. In their place came a rushing sound, like wind through ancient branches.

Suddenly, I was no longer in the musty stable. Instead, I found myself standing at the base of it… the impossibly vast world tree… Yggdrasil . Its trunk was wider than any redwood, its bark deeply furrowed and etched with strange runes. The roots spread out around me, each as thick as a house, disappearing into swirling mists.

I felt drawn to one particular root, pulsing with an otherworldly energy. As I approached, I saw images flickering across its surface—glimpses of past, present, and future intertwined. I recognized myself and Camille, saw flashes of the Pretorian Guard and their hidden strongholds.

Distantly, I was aware of Sven and Erik switching places, felt the change as a new cock—thicker, longer, more familiar somehow—thrust into my aching pussy. But it all seemed far away, unimportant compared to the visions unfolding before me.

I placed my hand on the root, gasping as knowledge flooded my mind. I saw the true extent of the Pretorian Guard’s power, their tendrils reaching into every level of government and industry. But I also saw their vulnerabilities, the cracks in their seemingly impenetrable armor.

As my consciousness drifted through Yggdrasil’s branches, I distantly registered new sensations in my physical body. Sven—or was it Erik?—was using my mouth to lubricate his cock, preparing to breach Camille’s bottom hole. Then I felt a blunt pressure against my own anus, the burn as the other man—Sven, definitely… my Herra —slowly pushed inside.

The pain of that penetration anchored me briefly to my body, but then I was flying around the world tree’s roots again. I saw the past… New York City… a skyscraper with its own roots deep, deep in the earth… an abyss with fire in its depths…

As Sven began to thrust in earnest into the ass he had opened for his personal pleasure my first night, atop his bride saddle, I heard snatches of conversation floating up from the physical realm.

“Fuck, her ass is tight,” Sven grunted.

“This one too,” Erik replied. “But she’s taking it like a good girl. These little sluts were made for anal. I bet the boys they lost it to would like to be where we are now.”

Camille cried out. I cried out. I lost track of time and space. The visions continued to swirl around me as I floated around the vast root system of the great tree.

Suddenly, I was yanked back to my body by a searing heat deep inside me. Sven’s cock pulsed in my ass, flooding me with his seed. The sensation was so intense, so primal, that it sent me careening over the edge into my own climax. I screamed, my entire body convulsing with pleasure so powerful it bordered on pain.

Beside me, I heard Camille cry out as well, her voice raw and desperate. Erik grunted, his hips slamming against her one final time as he found his own release.

The stable fell quiet, except for the sound of our ragged breathing. My mind reeled, trying to process the intense visions I had experienced, even as my body jerked with the aftershocks of my climax. I felt utterly spent, terribly, completely used.

Then, cutting through the haze of pleasure and mystical revelation, came the sharp trill of a cellphone. I flinched at the sudden, jarringly modern sound.

Sven pulled out of me abruptly, leaving me feeling achingly empty. I whimpered at the loss, hating myself for wanting more even after everything that had happened. I heard him fumbling with his clothes, then the beep as he answered the call.

“Yes, Monsieur Beaumont,” Sven said, his voice suddenly businesslike even with his recent exertion. There was a pause as he listened, and I held my breath, knowing that this call would determine our immediate fate.

“I understand completely,” Sven continued. “Yes, we made sure to document everything thoroughly. You’ll be very pleased with the merchandise.”

My stomach churned at his words. Merchandise. Was that truly all we were now?

Another pause, longer this time. I strained to hear the voice on the other end of the line, but it was too faint. Finally, Sven spoke again.

“Right away, Monsieur. We’ll have these whores to you in twenty minutes.”

My heart began to race as Sven ended the call. Twenty minutes. In just twenty minutes, we would be handed over to Beaumont and then, it seemed to whatever Pretorian Guard operatives were posing as his people.

I felt Sven’s hand on my back, gentler now than it had been before. “Up you get, girls,” he said, his voice gruff, but lacking the cruel edge it had held earlier. “We need to get you cleaned up and ready for transport.”

As Sven helped me to my feet, my legs trembling beneath me, I caught his eye. For just a moment, I saw my Herra , the man I loved despite the insanity of it all. I saw the real Sven, the Viking warrior, assess my condition and find it satisfactory. A flash of warmth went through me, though, as with perfect clarity I understood that if Sven had seen anything else, had thought that I couldn’t take the strain of the mission, he would have called it all off, civilization be damned.

Then my beloved master vanished behind the ice of his gorgeous eyes.

“Eyes down, whore,” he growled. “And don’t look your master in the eye unless he tells you to—or you want the cane across your backside. Monsieur Beaumont is fond of the cane.”