Page 36

CHAPTER 36

M ary

Deep in my mind, in a place that seemed somehow guarded from the swirling winds of need and fear, the volva in me observed and understood.

As if she… I… that part of me…

As if I had an essential piece of my spirit dwelling in a hollow shielded by the roots of Yggdrasil, some version of me who could see everything I did and everything that happened to me, and discern what it really meant.

That calm, observing Mary realized that Leo Marmareus had easily perceived the falsity of this crude, naive attempt at a slutty persona. I could even see that if he had believed it—if he thought I really was simply afraid for my and Camille’s safety, and I was begging him to use me because I thought he might kill us otherwise—he would have refused to go along with the seduction.

But he knew that I was trying to play him. He believed me, but he didn’t trust me. Leo Marmareus meant to figure out what I was really up to—and he thought he had the advantage, because he had seen through me.

I didn’t know whether I actually had the upper hand, in being able to see that, but I felt that I had at least gotten onto a level playing field. The problem, though—the terrible problem—lay between my thighs, where my shameful need for his dominance, for his jutting cock, threatened to steal all that complex reasoning away.

“Open wide, you little whore,” Marmareus commanded, and I obeyed with a humiliating jerk of my hips, a helpless physical response I instantly wished I had faked instead.

He had his manhood in his left hand. His right hand settled on the back of my head, fingers twining gently in my hair, then abruptly tightening their grip to hold me still as he prepared to thrust himself into my mouth.

“Be ready, girl,” he warned. “Men like me fuck hard.”

Suddenly he had driven his rigid penis deep between my lips. His left hand joined his right, imprisoning my head completely so he could use my mouth exactly as he pleased.

I sobbed with need and shame, opening my throat to take him deeper. Marmareus’ hips snapped forward, driving his cock past my gag reflex. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I fought to relax, to be a good girl for him the way Sven had taught me.

As Marmareus used my mouth ruthlessly, I couldn’t help losing myself in the sheer sensations of the humiliating moment. The observer, in her hollow, followed along, but she offered no opinion. The fullness of my throat, the ache in my jaw, the wet sounds of my submission—it all blended together into a haze of pleasure and degradation.

I became nothing but a vessel for this enemy agent’s lust, and a surge of heat flooded my upper body as I knew myself a little more thoroughly—as this kind of girl… the slutty, submissive kind. The sort of bed thrall into which Sven had shaped me because he had recognized my shameful nature.

I… Mary O’Toole… a little whore who needed fucking by many strong men, many brutal strangers… men who thrust hard, like the one using me now… the gorgeous, powerful man whose rigid manhood I did my best to please here in the lair of my master’s foes.

Marmareus continued to use my mouth as if it were a sex toy he could treat precisely as he wished. His cock seemed to drive deeper into my throat with each thrust. In spite of the obscenity, the brutality— no , I realized to my dismay, because of it— arousal continued to course through my body. My nipples had hardened to stiff peaks, and I could feel the gathered wetness begin to drip onto my thighs.

“My, my,” Marmareus said, his voice cool and detached even amid the pleasure I knew he must be feeling. “You’ve developed your skills quite well in such a short time, haven’t you, little whore?”

His words sent a wrenching, conflicting surge of pride and mortification through me. I whimpered around his thick shaft, torn between wanting to please him and hating myself for that very desire.

As he thrust faster, I sensed a change in his rhythm. His breathing grew heavier, and his grip on my hair tightened. I realized with a mix of relief and triumph that he must be getting close to his orgasm.

At least I would succeed in making him come. Perhaps that would prove my value, my willingness to cooperate. Maybe it would help protect Camille and me from whatever torments the Pretorian Guard might have in store for us.

Just as I braced myself to receive his release and swallow it obediently, Marmareus suddenly pulled his cock from my mouth. I gasped, blinking up at him in confusion as he stepped back. To my dismay, I heard myself let out a pathetic whimper as I watched him tuck his still-hard penis back into his trousers.

“Please,” I whispered, hardly believing the neediness in my own voice. “I… I can finish you. Let me make you come.”

Marmareus regarded me coolly, his dark eyes inscrutable. “You haven’t earned the gift of my seed in your body yet,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “I’m certain you’re not being entirely truthful with me, Mary.”

My heart pounded in my chest, but I felt sure that Marmareus didn’t really mean it. I could see that his instincts had told him that something didn’t add up, but also that he didn’t know what it was. I had to press my advantage, to keep him off balance.

“Please,” I begged, my voice hoarse from the rough treatment my throat had received. “I’ll do anything. Just… just fuck me. Use me however you want.”

I spread my legs wider, offering myself to him shamelessly. “You can have my pussy,” I whispered, hardly believing how easy it was to say it, and how thoroughly I meant it despite my shame. “Or… or my ass. Whatever you want, Leo .”

Marmareus’ expression remained impassive. “Show me,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Show me where you think you should be fucked, Columba .”

My brow furrowed as I tried to figure out what the last word Marmareus had said meant, or even what the word was. Columba? Like… Columbus? Columbia? Or… like French, and maybe like Latin… colombe ? Dove?

I blinked at him, watching him assess my reaction. I realized that too much curiosity might give something away. Had he meant to say that, as some kind of a test? Had it slipped out?

“I gave you an order,” Marmareus growled. “You will learn to obey me at least as thoroughly as you obeyed your last master.”

I swallowed very hard. In his voice I could hear, somehow, the terrible way he punished disobedience: the whips that must be close to hand and the merciless way Marmareus would wield them.

I tried to remember the last command he had given, the one that had ended with the strange word, columba . My face burned as it sprang back into my mind: Show me where you think you should be fucked.

My face burning hot, I turned around and bent my cheek to the stone floor. My heart pounded as I reached back with trembling hands to spread the halves of my bottom, exposing the tiny hole of my anus to Marmareus’ gaze. The cool air of the cell against the cringing, exposed bud made me shiver, and I felt my face flame even hotter with shame.

I could feel Marmareus’ eyes on me, examining my most private place. The silence in the room felt oppressive, broken only by my ragged breathing. My muscles trembled with the effort of holding the humiliating position, and I fought the urge to squeeze my eyes shut against the mortification.

“Well,” Marmareus said after what felt like an eternity, his voice dry and sardonic, “at least you’re correct about where you should be fucked. In the Guard, we call it the act of civilization. You still haven’t earned it, though.”

I whimpered softly at his words, a confusing mix of relief and disappointment washing over me, even as I tried to understand this latest, strangest thing my captor had said. Part of me had hoped he would take me up on my offer, would use me roughly and fill me with his seed. The idea that the Pretorian Guard had a special name for anal sex, and that it involved civilization made that perverse desire burn all the hotter.

I felt sure Sven needed to know about that, given that the Sons of Odin had dedicated themselves to saving civilization. Hadn’t my master said that the Pretorian Guard claimed to believe in the necessity of that, but only as a cover for their insidious hunger for power? This little revelation, though, about the act of civilization … something in the way Leo Marmareus had said it sounded so much like what I had heard among the Sons of Odin that it gave me pause. Did the Guard, their enemies, truly have a similar mission?

Worse, the similarity had made me suddenly, insanely want to experience Leo Marmareus’ version of the idea. I felt a pang of humiliation at the thought that I didn’t merit his use. Another part of me, though, felt grateful for the reprieve, ashamed of my own eagerness to submit to this man who was supposed to be my enemy.

I heard Marmareus’ footsteps moving away from me, toward the cell door. My heart raced as I realized he was leaving. I wanted to turn around, to beg him to stay, to use me, to believe me. But I remained frozen in place, my bottom still shamefully presented, afraid to move without permission.

The sound of the cell door opening reached my ears, followed by Marmareus’ voice, cool and detached. “We’ll continue this conversation later, Mary. Think carefully about how much you truly want to cooperate.”

With that, he stepped out of the cell. The door closed behind him with a soft, but final click, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my conflicted desires.

I rose on shaky legs and went back to the bed. I sat, blinking at my surroundings as if I had never seen them before. Suddenly I wished desperately for another vision, or at least some hint of how to think through what had just happened.

What did Marmareus think of my story? Why hadn’t he seized on the intelligence about the virus? What would happen to Camille now? I closed my eyes, searching inside myself for some sign of Yggdrasil… the branches, the trunk, the roots. I found nothing, not even a sign in my mind and my heart of what road to travel, across what seemed to me a vast inner landscape.

Abruptly, instead of a vision of the world tree, the wall opposite the bed, which I had thought made simply of stone, became deep black for a moment, and then turned into a view screen. My heart flipped as I saw Camille, in a cell precisely like mine, and Leo Marmareus, who had obviously just entered.

What did it mean? Obviously Marmareus wanted me to see what he did with my friend and fellow volva . But why?

My heart raced as I watched the scene unfold on the view screen. Camille sat on the edge of her bed, her body tense and her eyes wary as Marmareus approached her. I leaned forward, my hands gripping the edge of my own bed so tightly my knuckles turned white.

“Camille,” Marmareus said, his voice smooth and controlled, his French perfect. “I’ve just had a very interesting conversation with your friend Mary.”

I saw Camille’s eyes widen slightly, a flicker of fear crossing her face before she schooled her expression into one of defiance. My breath caught in my throat as I silently pleaded with her not to give anything away.

“Mary seems to think you know more than she does about certain… matters,” Marmareus continued, his gaze fixed on Camille’s face. “Care to enlighten me?”

Camille’s jaw clenched, and I could see the wheels turning in her mind as she tried to decide how to respond. I held my breath, praying she would choose her words carefully.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Camille said finally, her voice steady, the tension visible in her shoulders notwithstanding. “Mary and I were both prisoners. We didn’t know anything beyond what they forced us to do.”

Marmareus raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “Is that so? Mary seemed quite convinced that you had valuable information. Information that might be of great interest to my organization.”

I watched as Camille’s eyes darted around the room, as if searching for an escape. My heart ached for her, knowing the pressure she must be feeling. I wanted to call out to her, to tell her it would be okay.

“Look,” Camille said, her voice taking on a harder edge. “I’m not going to tell you anything until you reunite me with Mary and give us some clothes. We’ve been through hell, and I’m not playing your games anymore.”

I felt a surge of pride and admiration for Camille’s resistance, even as fear gnawed at my insides. I knew the Pretorian Guard wouldn’t take kindly to such defiance.

Marmareus’ expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Camille. “I’m afraid that’s not how this works, my dear,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to make demands here.”

I watched in horror as Marmareus moved swiftly, grabbing Camille’s arm and pulling her to her feet. She struggled against his grip, but he was far stronger. With a fluid motion, he sat on the edge of the bed and yanked Camille over his lap.

“No!” I cried out, forgetting for a moment that they couldn’t hear me. I pressed my hands against the view screen, as if I could somehow reach through and stop what was about to happen.