Page 9

CHAPTER 9

M ary

I hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering through me. But Sven’s hand tightened in my hair, a silent warning. Slowly, I extended my tongue, lapping at the heavy sac beneath his cock.

The taste was even saltier here, muskier. It filled my senses, drowning out everything else. I licked and sucked, driven by an instinctive sense of how to please him. Sven’s appreciative groans spurred me on, making me bolder in my explorations.

I felt Sven’s hand grip my hair tightly as he guided his massive cock back to my lips. My jaw ached from the unfamiliar stretch, but I opened obediently, desperate to please him. As the thick head slid past my lips, I was once again overwhelmed by his size and taste.

“Relax your throat, lille en ,” Sven commanded. “You will learn to take all of my pik .”

I tried to obey, focusing on breathing through my nose as he pushed deeper. Tears sprang to my eyes as I fought against my gag reflex. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, Sven pulled back, allowing me a brief moment of relief before thrusting forward again.

The pace quickened, and soon Sven was fucking my face in earnest. His hips snapped forward rhythmically, driving his cock deeper with each thrust. I struggled to keep up, my tongue working frantically along his shaft as he used my mouth for his pleasure.

Suddenly, I felt Sven’s hand between my legs again. His fingers found my clit, circling and teasing the sensitive bud. I moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him groan in approval. The dual sensations of his manhood in my mouth and his skilled fingers on my pussy were overwhelming.

Just as I was starting to lose myself in the pleasure, a sharp crack echoed through the air. Pain bloomed across my bottom as Sven brought the whip down. I cried out, the sound muffled by his thick member.

“Focus, Mary,” Sven growled. “Your pleasure is secondary to mine. Serve your master as a bed thrall should.”

The whip fell again and again. Each lash sent spasms of pain through my body, mingling with the pleasure in a confusing maelstrom of sensation. I redoubled my efforts, trying to take him deeper despite the discomfort.

Sven alternated between pleasuring my pussy and punishing my bottom, never letting me settle into a rhythm. One moment I was soaring on waves of ecstasy as his fingers worked their magic, the next I was gasping in pain as the whip found its mark.

Through it all, Sven’s cock never left my mouth. He thrust relentlessly, pushing me to my limits and beyond. My jaw ached, my throat burned, and still I craved more. I wanted to please my Herra , to prove my worth as his thrall.

Around me, I could hear the sounds of the other girls being used similarly. Camille’s muffled cries of pleasure mixed with Sophie’s whimpers of pain. Amélie’s voice rose in a keening wail, signaling her climax even as Henrik grunted his approval.

A primal energy seemed to fill the cavern as the Sons of Odin neared their climaxes. My world had narrowed to the huge hardness in my mouth and the sensations swirling through my body—pain from the whip, pleasure from Sven’s skilled fingers, and a deep, burning need to please my master as insane as the tiny remaining voice of reason in my head found it.

Suddenly, I heard Henrik let out a guttural roar. “Take it, thrall!” he bellowed. “Swallow every drop of your master’s seed!”

Amélie’s muffled cries grew more frantic, and I could picture her struggling to obey, to take all of Henrik’s release. The wet sounds of her swallowing filled the air, punctuated by Henrik’s groans of satisfaction.

Next came Aksel’s voice, thick with lust. “That’s it, Sophie,” he growled. “Drink deeply of your reward.” Sophie whimpered, but I heard no protest—only the rhythmic gulping as she obeyed her master’s command.

One by one, the Sons of Odin reached their peak. The cavern filled with their triumphant cries, a chorus of masculine pleasure that seemed to resonate in my very bones. With each climax, I felt Sven’s cock twitch in my mouth, growing somehow even harder.

Erik was the last before Sven. “ Merde! ” he swore, his accent thick with arousal. “Swallow it all, ma petite rebelle . Show your master how grateful you are.”

Camille gagged and sputtered, clearly struggling with the volume of Erik’s release. But soon her protests faded, replaced by the unmistakable sounds of swallowing.

Finally, it was Sven’s turn. His hand tightened in my hair, holding me in place as his hips began to move more erratically. The pain in my scalp mingled with the burning in my throat and the ache in my jaw, creating a mix of sensation that left me dizzy.

“Prepare yourself, lille en ,” Sven growled, his voice deeper and rougher than I’d ever heard it. “You will take every drop of your master’s seed. This is your baptism into your new life, your rebirth as my thrall.”

With a final, powerful thrust, Sven buried himself to the hilt in my throat. I felt his cock pulse, and suddenly my mouth was flooded with his release. It was hot and thick, with a salty, bitter flavor that overwhelmed my senses.

“Swallow,” Sven commanded sternly. “Be grateful for this gift, Mary. The seed of a Son of Odin is sacred.”

I struggled to obey, my throat working frantically to keep up with the seemingly endless flow. Some of it escaped, trickling from the corners of my mouth. I felt Sven’s thumb smear it across my cheek, and I lifted my eyes to see a smile on his face that went all the way to his eyes. My face burned, even as a distressing tendril of gratitude crept into my chest.

“Good girl,” Sven murmured. “I can’t wait to have you in my bed, and at my hearth.”

He stepped back, and to my blushing dismay I felt a pang of loss not to have his manhood between my lips anymore. The idea, as crazy as the me of yesterday would have found it, that I could, in this terribly servile way, please such an intelligent, powerful man with my body, and that he had enjoyed himself so thoroughly in using me, brought a warmth to my chest that I didn’t seem able to explain away.

No , I told myself, maybe you can’t explain it—but you can resist it, can’t you? Or try, at least?

Sven caressed my shoulder, still looking down into my face with a smile. Then, abruptly, he moved away, toward the stern of the boat, taking up the role of the helmsman once more. I could just barely see him, craning my face over my shoulder, but the ache it brought to my neck couldn’t stop me from watching: my master, huge and muscular, naked and dominant, clearly preparing to address his Viking band.

He spoke in his own language, the rough music of its rise and fall suddenly seeming familiar to me, though I recognized only a word here and there. Then he translated, into clear French that made me blush.

“Girls, I have just told my brothers that our homeland is in sight, across the waters. We have fucked you hard, and trained your cunts and your mouths to receive us as they should. May the gods bless your wombs, and grant growth in them, if such is their will. When we reach the shore, we will lead you to our houses, and teach you of your duties there. Before you sleep, you will each have your Herra ’s seed up your bottom, when he has made his final possession and you your final submission.”

I heard gasps from the other girls. To my right, Camille made a retching sound in her throat.

“Don’t pretend you don’t need it, girl,” Erik growled. I heard his hand come down on Camille’s backside, then the wet sound of her master working her pussy. Camille moaned, and then the moan became a little wail, and I felt certain Erik had put a finger in her smallest place, to teach his bed thrall of her new duty. My hips jerked against the bench, and I couldn’t suppress my own whimper, just at the shameful idea of it.

“Mary,” I heard Sven say from in front of me. I realized he must have returned from the stern while my attention had been fixed on Camille. I looked up at him, my face burning with mortification and arousal. His blue eyes bored into mine as he spoke.

“Mary, I can’t wait to fuck your bottom,” he said, his voice low and husky. “To claim that last virginity and make you truly mine.”

I whimpered, unable to look away from his intense gaze. Part of me wanted to protest, to beg him not to carry out that final, degrading act. The sounds coming from the bench next to mine, though, stirred a very different part.

Sven’s large hand came to rest on my lower back, rubbing soothing circles as he spoke. “Relax, lille en . You’re going to have me there, so there’s no need to wonder; simply make up your mind to submit, because you have no choice.”

I felt his other hand move lower, fingers trailing down the cleft of my bottom. When they reached my puckered hole, I couldn’t help but clench in fear and anticipation.

“Shh,” Sven murmured. “Breathe deeply. Let your body open for me.”

His finger circled my anus, applying gentle pressure. I tried to obey, to relax as he’d commanded, but it was so difficult. This was wrong, wasn’t it? So terribly wrong…

And yet, as Sven’s finger penetrated me, sliding slowly into my bottom, I couldn’t deny the jolt of pleasure that shot through me. I gasped, my hips jerking involuntarily against the bench.

“That’s it,” Sven praised. “Feel how your body welcomes me, even here.”

To my right, I heard Erik’s voice, stern and commanding. “Tell me what you need, Camille. Say the words.”

Camille’s response came as a sob. “Please… I can’t…”

The sharp crack of a hand on flesh made me flinch. “You can, and you will,” Erik growled. “Say it!”

“I… I need…” Camille’s voice broke, thick with shame and desire. “I need your cock in my bottom, Herra . Please!”

Erik’s grunt of satisfaction was followed by Camille’s cry—of pain or pleasure, I couldn’t tell—as he opened her further with his hand.

All around me, I could hear the other men working their girls’ bodies, preparing them for this final claiming. Amélie’s breathy moans mingled with Sophie’s whimpers and the quiet encouragement of their masters.

Sven added a second finger, stretching me further. The burning sensation made me gasp, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. As he worked me open, his other hand snaked around to my front, fingers finding my clit with unerring accuracy.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, my hips bucking against his touch. The dual sensations were overwhelming—the stretch and burn in my bottom, the jolts of pleasure from my clit.

“That’s it, lille en ,” Sven murmured.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. My hips bucked wildly against the bench as thrills of intense pleasure crashed over me. I cried out, my voice echoing off the stone walls as I climaxed hard, whimpering my submission.

“Oh God, oh God,” I moaned, my body shuddering uncontrollably. Sven’s fingers never stopped moving, drawing out my orgasm until I thought I might shatter into a million pieces.

As the last tremors subsided, I collapsed against the bench, panting heavily. My mind reeled, trying to process what had just happened. How could something so wrong feel so incredibly good?

Sven’s deep chuckle brought me back to reality. “Good girl,” he crooned, his hand stroking my back soothingly. “You’ve pleased your master well.”

Before I could respond, Sven’s voice rang out, addressing the other Sons of Odin in that harsh, beautiful language. Then he translated for us thralls:

“Brothers, the time has come. Unbind your women and bring them to our houses. There, we will complete their training and truly make them ours.”

I heard the rustle of movement around me as the men began to free the other girls from their bonds. Sven’s large hands worked quickly, untying the leather straps that had held me in place for so long. As the last knot came undone, I tried to push myself up, but my arms trembled with weakness.

Sven didn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, he scooped me into his arms as if I weighed nothing at all. I gasped, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck for support. My naked body pressed against his chest, and I could feel the steady beat of his heart.

As Sven carried me away from the bench, I caught glimpses of the other girls being lifted by their masters. Camille struggled weakly in Erik’s arms, but her resistance seemed half-hearted at best. Amélie clung to Henrik, her face buried in his shoulder. Sophie appeared almost serene in Aksel’s embrace.

We left the ritual sanctuary, entering a long corridor carved directly into the rock. Torches flickered along the walls, casting dancing shadows that seemed to come alive in the dim light. The air grew cooler as we descended deeper into the earth, and I shivered, pressing closer to Sven’s warmth.

The corridor branched off into smaller passages, each leading to a heavy wooden door. As we reached one such door, Sven paused, shifting me in his arms to free one hand. He pushed the door open, revealing a chamber beyond.

“Welcome to my house, lille en ,” Sven murmured as he carried me inside.