Authors: Madelene Martin
"Please, My Lord!" She whined, her hips moving against his hand.
At this, he withdrew his fingers, and returned to rubbing her clit. He moved in rapid circles, and she gasped in pleasure again and again. With very little warning, her body tensed and shuddered in his hands, the wave of pleasure finally breaking over her in an intense orgasm.
She went limp as the pleasure ebbed, letting her head hang down. Leif took his fingers away from her, and caressed her ass and thighs.
"There," he said, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"
And he picked her up, and deposited her on the bed.
She pulled the skirt of her dress down to cover her legs, wanting to roll over and curl up. But Leif stood next to the bed, looking down at her.
"Undress me." He ordered.
She was still catching her breath, her body still warm and tingling in the afterglow of pleasure. She ached between the legs, unused to the rough treatment. She longed to hide her face and cry. But she was afraid to anger him.
She sat up on the edge of the bed, and looked up at him. He stood in tanned trousers, and a sleeveless linen shirt. Just do as he tells you, she repeated to herself. Slowly, she stood, and took the remaining step toward him.
After a moment's hesitation, she reached up to unlace his shirt with fumbling fingers. She put her hands under the hem of the shirt and raised it up, trying to pull it over his head. He was too tall, and had to bend and assist her. He let the shirt fall from his fingers onto the floor, and stood waiting for her.
Her eyes lingered for a moment on the scars on his skin, his smooth, hard chest, and the pale patch of hair beneath his navel that led down further. Then she bit her lip anxiously, and hesitantly reached out for the strings of his breeches.
Her fingers were like ice and she kept slipping on the knot. She could see the huge bulge of his manhood straining against the material, and she found herself curious - wondering just how big it was.
Eventually she managed to get laces loosened. She paused, looking up at his face.
He stared down at her, impassive. "Continue."
Swallowing hard, she pulled the cloth loose and worked it down. His cock sprung free, huge and smooth and standing up at a sharp angle, right in front of her. She couldn't help but stare, marvelling at the size. She wondered if they were all so large, and how on earth it could fit inside someone – how it would fit inside her. And she shivered at the thought.
Leif laughed throatily, and his phallus twitched. Zahira tore her eyes away for long enough to pull his breeches down and let him step out of them.
“You like that, hmm?” he chuckled, and rested a hand on her shoulder, caressing her hair. It was confusing when he was gentle with her, in contrast to punishing. But strangely, she found herself leaning against his touch, grateful for the attention. What was wrong with her?
“
Well my beauty,” he continued, “now you get to show me how much you want to please your new Master.”
She bit her lower lip, hesitant, looking at the phallus so close to her face. “I... I never have.” The women of the harem had talked of this, as one of the surest ways to please a man. But they hadn't given explicit instructions.
“I know, my girl. I have many things to teach you.” He twisted his hand in her hair, holding her fast. And he pushed her forward so that her lips were almost touching his cock.
“
Lick first.” He commanded.
She had no choice, she thought to herself.
Just please him, and he will treat you well
. Zahira closed her eyes tightly and opened her lips. She felt the warm tip of him touch her mouth, and let her tongue out to taste it.
He tasted warm, and smelled faintly of salt and smoke. As she ran her tongue along the underside and up over the very tip, she found a drop of fluid there. She opened her eyes as she tasted it, curiously swirling her tongue around the head.
She heard him groan, and looked up at him. He had his eyes closed and a look of pleasure on his handsome face. It looked as though all the usual tension had gone out of him. She almost smiled.
Bending back to her task, she opened her lips wider, and lapped at him with her tongue. She grew bolder, and experimentally licked along the length of his shaft. Reaching out, she took hold of his member in her hand, and wrapped her fingers around it.
She continued licking and exploring him with her tongue, enjoying the sounds of bliss he was making. It wasn't unpleasant. In fact, she found it thrilling to hear his desire for her, and to see the effect she could have on him. She was incredibly wet between the legs, her body aching for the pleasure she had felt before.
Suddenly, his hand tightened in her hair, and he held her gently back for a moment. “Now, suck.” He said hoarsely. And pushed her head forward.
Obediently Zahira opened her lips – then had to part them more, as wide as she possibly could, to fit the head of his swollen member in her mouth. She sucked the tip, took him in deeper, and swirled her tongue around as she sucked.
With her hand she caressed his shaft, as she tried to take as much as she could inside her mouth. She fell into a rhythm, taking his cock in and out with firm suction. Leif was not shy, letting out loud moans and sounds of approval when she did something he liked, and she tried to do more of those things.
She found herself absorbed in her task, reveling in her ability to please this powerful man. His hips began to move in time with her movements, and his hand on the back of her head pushed her forward, forcing her to take him deeper and deeper, until she almost felt like she would choke.
It was easier if she made her throat and mouth relax, allowing him to move in and out of her as he wanted. He seemed to know just how much she could take – holding himself back from forcing too much on her.
Suddenly, his movements grew erratic and he threw his head back, letting out a fierce cry. He held her against him, her mouth wrapped around his shaft, and she felt it throb.
She knew vaguely what was coming, but didn't expect the sheer velocity of the thick fluid that shot out into her mouth. She had to swallow hastily, then swallow again as he continued pulsing and spurting into her throat.
Finally the torrent ended, and she licked the last of his seed from him. Leif let out a heavy sigh of relief and pulled away from her, letting go of her hair. He walked across the room and busied himself with something while the girl braced herself against the floor with her hands, feeling weak.
“
Ahh!” Her new Master exclaimed loudly. “If I wasn't sure before, I am now. You are an eager young thing, underneath it all, aren't you?” He laughed to himself as he approached her, then stooped to put a hand under her chin. He lifted her head to look at her face.
Zahira was exhausted and yet exhilarated, her traitorous body practically glowing with the heat of arousal. For now, all the protest had gone out of her. She watched silently as Leif held out an object. It was a large golden ring. For a moment she didn't understand.
“A gift, for you.” He said. “Iron was too plain for you, my beauty. I ordered this made as soon as we landed.” He broke the object apart – it opened in two halves – and slowly fitted it around her neck. Stunned, she raised a hand to touch the cold metal as he locked it.
“
Now,” he said, “everyone will know you belong to me. No one else will lay a hand on you.”
Oddly enough, that part at least was a relief. What was happening to her was bad enough, without attracting attention from the other Northmen.
He was looking at her and seemed expectant. Remembering herself, she bowed her head, her hand still resting on the golden collar. “Thank you, My Lord.” She said, hating herself.
Leif smiled warmly, pleased. “Now, stand up.” He directed.
New panic – and a troubling thrill - ran through her as she obeyed. What was he going to do to her now? But he only opened a large cupboard and pulled out some furs and blankets. He walked past her, and tossed them on the floor beside the bed.
“
You can sleep there tonight,” he said. “Perhaps if you please me well enough, one day I will let you share my bed.”
“
Yes, My Lord.” At the sight of the blankets she suddenly felt unbelievably tired. Yet she still felt as tightly wound as a bowstring. She fidgeted with the cloth of her shift, waiting for instructions, unsure if he wanted her to lay down now.
He looked at her, and smiled wickedly. “Take off your clothes. You will wear nothing while in this room unless instructed.”
It was warm in the room, with the fire still going, but she felt chilled as she reluctantly pulled her dress over her head. She felt angry at herself. She wished she could force herself not to care.
After all, what was the point of modesty now? This man had violated her in ways she'd never expected, and like it or not, she was entirely his property now. But she still blushed in embarrassment as he openly stared at her naked body.
Her breath was shallow, her chest heaving, and her nipples were tight and hard. She watched the big man as he approached, stopping right in front of her.
Without thinking she raised a hand to touch the smooth metal of the collar around her neck. Leif reached out and slapped her hand away from it, and she gasped. But he seemed more amused than angry.
He put his hand under her chin and made her look into his eyes. “Well, well! You want more, don't you little one?” he laughed. He let his hand drop down over her collarbone, and slowly trailed a finger between her breasts.
“
No,” she murmured, not even convincing herself.
Leif paid no attention. He covered her right breast with his hand, cupped it, and used his thumb to make circles on her nipple. Her lips dropped open of their own accord as she felt the delicious tingling pleasure.
“I think you do,” he said, bending his head. He pressed his mouth hard against hers, and this time he didn't need to hold her there. She parted her, sighing against his mouth as she allowed her tongue to explore his. He teased, his tongue retreating, so that she had to follow it.
His hand dropped lower, over her flat belly, her skin quivering in its wake. He brushed lightly through her fine pubic hair and dipped a finger into her folds to sample her wetness.
When they broke the kiss, she realized she was leaning her whole body against his. His naked manhood was hard again and pressing against her hip, while his finger traced her slit. She could feel how easily he slid - how wet she was.
His lips remained close to hers, their breath mingled. “Well then,” he murmured, “Since you don't want any more, I'm going to sleep.” He took his hands off her and stepped backwards, making his way to the bed.
“And no touching yourself in the night.” He laughed, as though this amused him. “Never without my permission. Or I will bind your wrists to the legs of my bed. Do you understand?”
Her legs were shaking under her and tears stood in her eyes. She felt thoroughly violated and... somehow, awakened. Her flesh cried out for more – for release. But she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
“Yes, My Lord,” she answered quickly.
Leif got into his bed and rolled away from her. Reluctantly, Zahira crawled into her pile of furs. She could feel the hard floor through the furs, but her makeshift bed was close enough to the hearth that it was warm and comfortable enough.
Still, she lay awake for long hours, thinking over all that had happened to her. Running through her head everything that
might
still happen. Dreading, and anticipating.
….
Leif rose early, as the sun began to stream through the room's one window. Zahira sat up blearily, her body aching and sore. She clutched a fur against her body and watched as her Master got dressed – pulling on trousers and a linen tunic, and lacing on fur leggings.
He did not speak, but after he'd put on his heavy boots, he came over to her. The girl cringed slightly as he reached out a hand, but he only rested it gently on her head, and caressed her hair, stroking her as though she were a pet.
There was a strange and puzzling look of tenderness on his face, and he seemed pensive. She wondered what he was thinking, but didn't want to speak out of place.
After a minute, he stopped, and looked away. “Sleep.” He said. “Hilde will come soon. Ask her for anything you need.” He stooped to pick up the axe that rested by the door, and left the room, slamming the door.
The girl dozed a little, wrapping the furs tightly around herself against the chill that seeped in, now that the fire was out.
It was not Hilde but Freja who burst through the doors a short time later. She carried a pile of clothes, which she placed on a bench. Without looking at Zahira she stooped to start a fire, striking flint and feeding kindling to the tiny flame. Zahira watched, bundled in her furs. Freja was dressed in leathers again, a large knife hanging at her hip and a woolen cloak covering her shoulders.
When she was done, she stood and turned to face Zahira, one hand on a hip. The girl lowered her eyes, embarrassed. This woman must know what went on in this room.