Page 48

CHAPTER 48

M ary

“What an interesting thing to say,” Marmareus observed coolly. My heart pounded as I watched him lower the gun and place it on the table, with his hand still atop it, as if ready to use it at the slightest sign of resistance from Sven or Erik. “While we figure out what to do about it, Nymphobus Lucius, please punish this naughty Nupta for her illicit orgasm.”

The sudden emptiness left by Lucius withdrawing from my pussy felt like a physical shock, a void where moments before there had been overwhelming fullness. I barely had time to process the sensation before his massive hand connected with my exposed bottom, the sharp crack of palm against flesh echoing through the chamber like a gunshot.

“Ah!” I cried out, my body jerking against the restraints that held me bound to the fucking bench. The initial sting bloomed into a spreading heat that radiated outward from the point of impact, awakening the welts Sven had placed there earlier. Before I could recover, Lucius’ hand fell again, landing on the opposite cheek with equal force.

His left hand gripped my belt with iron strength, holding me steady for his punishment. Each time I instinctively tried to squirm away from the punishing blows, the belt bit into my waist, forcing me back into position. The leather creaked with my desperate movements, the metal rings securing my restraints to the bench jingling in counterpoint to the rhythmic slaps of Lucius’s palm.

He maintained a deliberate pace—slow, methodical, each spank carefully placed for maximum effect. The Nymphobus said nothing as he disciplined me, his silence somehow more intimidating than any verbal admonishment could have been. There was something terribly impersonal about his punishment, as if I were merely an object to be corrected rather than a person who had transgressed.

I bit my lip hard, tasting copper as I tried to focus through the building pain. My stolen orgasm had given me a fleeting glimpse of Yggdrasil’s branches, but the connection had been severed the moment Lucius withdrew from me. Now, with each stinging slap against my tender flesh, I struggled to hold onto the clarity I’d briefly attained.

Beside me, Camille moaned, a desperate, needy sound that spoke of torturous frustration. I turned my head as much as the restraints would allow, catching a glimpse of her flushed face contorted in pleasure-pain as Brutus continued his relentless rhythm, keeping her perpetually on the edge of climax without allowing her to tumble over. Her dark hair clung to her sweat-dampened forehead, her eyes glazed with unsatisfied desire.

“Please,” she whispered, the word barely audible beneath the sound of Lucius’ palm connecting with my bottom again. “Please, I need…”

Brutus responded by slowing his thrusts even further, reducing them to a maddening tease that made Camille sob with frustration. The two Nymphobi worked in perfect tandem—one punishing, one denying, both demonstrating absolute control over our bodies and responses.

Another spank landed on my already burning bottom, harder than the ones before, making tears spring to my eyes. I gasped, the sound catching in my throat as Lucius’ fingertips grazed my swollen pussy.

In front of us, behind the table, Leo Marmareus seemed content to watch the lewd scene unfold without further comment. Through the haze of my backside’s agony, I understood that the Guardsman had decided to wait for the Sons of Odin to make the next move. Sven and Erik exchanged a glance.

“Is it true?” Sven asked suddenly, his deep voice cutting through the sounds of my punishment. “The space station in the Arctic?”

I tried to focus on their conversation through the burning pain radiating from my bottom, each of Lucius’ spanks sending fresh waves of fire across my skin. My tears flowed freely now, dripping onto the leather padding beneath my face.

Marmareus didn’t answer Sven’s question directly. His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable—calculation, perhaps, or a deeper form of assessment. The silence stretched between them, taut as a bowstring, before he finally spoke.

“ Nymphobus Lucius,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of ancient authority, “this new Nupta requires more significant correction. Fuck her ass to continue her punishment.”

My heart lurched painfully in my chest at his words. Despite all the violations I’d endured, my anus remained the most intimate, private part of me. The idea of having the Nymphobus fuck me there while my true Herra watched made my heart quail.

“No,” I whimpered, the word escaping before I could stop it. “Please, I can’t?—”

Lucius’ hand connected with my bottom again, silencing my protest with a particularly vicious spank that made me cry out. I felt him shift his position behind me, felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against my smallest entrance. The pressure was insistent but not yet forceful—a prelude to the inevitable invasion.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Sven rise to his feet in one fluid motion. The ruby-colored robe moved majestically around his powerful frame as he stood, his broad shoulders squared, his stance wide and commanding. He looked every inch the warrior-scholar, the Viking master whose dominance transcended time and culture.

Marmareus’ hand tightened visibly on the pistol, his knuckles flexing slightly, but very perceptibly. The tension in the chamber thickened, the air between the men seeming to crackle with unspoken threats and calculations. Behind me, Lucius paused, the head of his cock still resting against my anus as he awaited further instruction.

“For my group,” Sven said, his voice resonating through the chamber with quiet power, “the taking of a bed thrall’s bottom represents the ultimate mastery of her being.”

He paused, his ice-blue eyes locking with Marmareus’ dark ones across the obsidian table. The moment stretched, pregnant with significance, before Sven continued.

“And for the first time, I will name my group to you, Leo Marmareus. We are the Sons of Odin, guardians of the ancient ways, preservers of true civilization.”

A shiver ran through me at his words, at the deliberate claiming of identity after so much careful obfuscation.

“I believe,” Sven said, his voice carrying a scholarly authority that seemed to fill the vast chamber, “that the Guard calls the fucking of an initiate’s anus the act of civilization .”

Marmareus’ expression shifted subtly, his dark eyes narrowing with interest rather than suspicion. He inclined his head in a slight nod, his hand still resting casually atop the pistol.

“That is correct,” he confirmed, his voice carrying the weight of ancient tradition. “The final penetration represents the triumph of rational order over the chaos of nature, of dominant man over submissive woman.”

My heart pounded against my ribs as I watched this strange negotiation unfold before me. I felt Lucius withdraw slightly, the pressure against my anus easing as he awaited new instructions. My body trembled with a confusing mixture of relief and anticipation, the welts on my bottom throbbing in time with my racing pulse.

“In that case,” Sven continued, his eyes finding mine across the chamber, “to demonstrate that as Sons of Odin, Erik and I know how to civilize and tame brilliant young women like Mary and Camille, I think I should punish Mary anally, while Erik demonstrates the loving use of a girl’s anus by fucking Camille’s ass.”

The words sent a shock of electricity through my entire body. All that had happened, all the humiliations and violations I had endured, couldn’t keep the prospect of being taken anally by Sven—my true Herra , my master—here in the sanctuary of the enemy from making my pulse quicken and my pussy clench with renewed desire. To be reclaimed by him in the most intimate way possible, to have him mark me as his own before these men who had used me for purposes opposed to Sven’s… the thought was terrifying and thrilling in equal measure.

Marmareus looked up at him, clearly puzzled by this unexpected proposal. His hand remained on the gun, his fingers curled around its grip with casual readiness. The chamber had grown unnaturally quiet, the only sounds my labored breathing and Camille’s soft whimpers as Brutus continued to hold her on the edge of release.

“What are you up to, Sven?” Marmareus asked calmly, his voice betraying nothing but mild curiosity. “If you would like to let Mary whisper something into your ear, I have no objection, though of course it will only mean that I can drag the information out of you, if I fail to get it from Mary.”

The casual cruelty of his words made me shiver. I remembered all too well the methods the Guard had employed to try to extract information from me—the diabolical saddle, the mastix , the relentless stimulation that had left me sobbing and broken. The thought of Sven enduring the masculine version of that treatment made my blood run cold.

Sven smiled then, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that seemed to reach across the space between us and touch something deep within my soul. In that moment, I thought I understood what he intended.

“No,” Sven said, his voice carrying that perfect blend of authority and reassurance that made my inner walls clench with longing. “I merely want you Guardsmen to see the matter as we see it. Come with us, and enjoy our bed thralls’ mouths as we fuck their bottoms. I feel sure we’ll be able to resolve this impasse.”

My heart leapt in my chest as the realization bloomed within me. Of course—Sven wanted to send me to Yggdrasil one more time, with him inside me, so that I could figure out what to do with my intel about the virus. I knew Sven didn’t know the nature of the intel, but he knew I knew something important, something that might shift the balance of power in this dangerous game.

When Sven fucked my ass, the intensity of the sensation would trigger my volva senses. The exquisite pain-pleasure of that most intimate invasion would open the pathways to the cosmic tree, would allow me to see which branch of possible futures we needed to follow. The realization made me tremble with a mixture of anticipation and fear.

Marmareus appeared bemused by the suggestion, his dark eyes calculating as they moved from Sven to Erik and back again. After a moment of consideration, he nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“An intriguing proposition,” he said, rising from his seat with fluid grace. “Very well. Let us observe your methods.”

Erik had already stood, his powerful frame imposing beneath the ceremonial robe. He moved toward Camille with purposeful strides, his expression a perfect mask of controlled desire. I watched him approach my sister volva , saw the mixture of fear and relief that crossed her features as she recognized that her true master would now reclaim her.

Marmareus stood, adjusting his robe with casual elegance. “ Nymphobi ,” he commanded, “you have permission to enjoy Nupta Cassandra and Nupta Viola while our guests demonstrate their mastery.”

I watched, pussy clenching, as Lucius and Brutus led Cassandra and Viola to just in front of the table, the Nymphobi ’s cocks still shining from my and Camille’s pussies. The Nuptae dropped to their knees with practiced grace, their mouths opening to receive the massive organs that had so recently been inside Camille and me. The sight was obscene yet mesmerizing—the perfect synchronicity of their movements, the way they took the enormous cocks into their throats without apparent hesitation or discomfort.

Sven and Erik walked behind Camille and me, their bare footsteps soft against the stone floor. My heart hammered against my ribs as I felt Sven’s presence behind me, the heat of his body radiating through the space between us. I whimpered as he spread my bottom cheeks, his touch so different from Lucius’—familiar, even comforting despite the distressing idea that my Herra meant to punish me with his huge cock, while Camille experienced a much gentler reunion with hers.

I heard Camille moan as Erik began to fuck her bottom gently. The sound of her pleasure-pain sent shivers down my spine, a prelude to what awaited me at Sven’s hands. I felt his powerful presence behind me, his breath warm against my neck as he positioned himself. His fingers spread my cheeks wider, exposing my most intimate opening to his gaze.

“Such a beautiful flower,” he murmured, his voice pitched for my ears alone. “So perfect for a man’s pleasure.”

I felt the broad head of his cock press against my puckered entrance, slick with something—oil of consecration, surely, courtesy of Marmareus, which my master must have applied while I was distracted by the scene before me. The pressure built steadily, inexorably, as he pushed forward with deliberate restraint.

Then came the burning stretch as my body yielded to his invasion. I cried out, the sound torn from my throat by the exquisite agony of penetration. Sven’s cock felt enormous inside me, stretching the tight ring of muscle beyond what felt natural. Unlike Marmareus and the Nymphobi , who had seemed to use my body with casual force, Sven’s possession carried the weight of ownership, of reclamation.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice dropping to that register that made my inner walls clench with recognition. “Take me, lille en . Take all of me.”