The Berserker Brides Saga

by Lee Savino

  “I said ‘no’.” Thorbjorn glowered. “Perhaps you need a reminder of who makes the rules.”

  “Yes, spank her,” Rolf laughed. “If she begs for us after, it’ll prove her endurance.”

  I licked my lips.

  “Very well,” Thorbjorn shifted in his chair, the long bar of his erection straining against his breeches. “We have something to keep you in mind of your owners at all times. Come to all fours, sweetling.” He gestured to the floor.

  “Oh no,” I said. “Whenever I am on all fours you play with my bottom.”

  “Do you deny me, sweetling?” Thorbjorn stood and stalked forward with a wicked smile. He pushed close and grabbed a handful of my left buttock, squeezing. I stifled a happy moan.

  “This belongs to us. It is one of my favorite toys. Besides, you enjoy when we play with it. Do not deny it.”

  He grabbed me and wrestled me down. I found myself bent over the bed, wrists tied to the far side.

  “What are you doing?” I looked back in time to see Thorbjorn smack my right buttock.

  “Seems our little one needs a reminder who’s in charge. And since you’ve already had several cleanses, we will find another way to punish you.”

  He slapped my bottom until I yelped. His fingers checked my pussy, sliding around in my juices. I moaned, humiliated.

  “So excited. This is how we know you belong to us. You are excited by our touch, even punishment.”

  I wriggled my bottom to reduce the ache. “I don’t like it.”

  “I think you do.” He played with me, making me dance up onto my toes. “Now.”

  Oil poured into my crack. I pressed my face down to the bed, waiting for the stretching and probing to begin. He slid one finger in, but then replaced it with something cool and smooth.

  “What is that?” I craned my head and he held up the long smooth rock. “This will fill you, and keep you ready for us. One day we will claim your arse.”

  He pumped the smooth stone back and forth out of my bottom hole, stretching and filling me with strange sensation. Little tendrils of pleasure curled through me, arousal mixing with the deep embarrassment.

  “This is wrong,” I told the bed.

  “It is what your mates desire.” He pressed the plug in further. With a final slap to my bottom, he untied me and bid me rise.

  “That’s it?” I started to reach back to take out the plug and he caught my wrist. “You’re leaving this in me all day?”

  “All day and all night if we must.”

  Rolf laughed at my horrified expression. “Do not tell me you do not like this. I can smell your enjoyment from here.”

  Sure enough, my nipples were hard pebbles. I pressed my legs together, trying to hold in the rapidly growing wetness between my folds.

  “You can sit with me,” Thorbjorn said, seating himself again. But when my bottom touched his hard knee, the plug seated more firmly inside me, stimulating me all over again. I jerked back up.

  “No,” I said, heat flooding my cheeks.

  “What’s wrong, Sage?” he asked, while Rolf chuckled.

  “It fills me.” My bottom clenched around the hard, unwielding stone.

  “No touching.” Thorbjorn grabbed my hands again. “Or I will tie you and make you sit on the hard stool until dinner.”

  I tried to sit again, and whimpered.

  “Here, sweet one,” Thorbjorn guided me to a pelt on the floor. “Sit however is comfortable.”

  I folded my legs and propped myself on my hip. The position still made my bottom clench around the plug, a long, hard reminder of these men’s ownership of me. I leaned into Thorbjorn with a moan. He ruffled my hair before picking up his sharpening stone.

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked.

  “Don’t think, Sage. Just be.”

  The rain fell until the night, but my thoughts were quiet. Whenever worry started to overtake me, the hard length in my bottom reminded me of how these men so easily overpowered me, protected me, put me on my knees.

  When the ache grew too much, I wrapped myself around Thorbjorn’s leg. My fingers found his cock, a long, hard ridge under the leather breeches. I brushed the length, teasing, watching it grow.

  “Sage,” he rumbled in warning.

  I licked my lips. “I can please you.” I told him.

  “I know you can little one. But I want to be sure you are ready. One day, we will have you beg.”

  “Please, I am begging now.”

  “Come here, Sage.” Rolf set aside his axe and beckoned. I crawled happily to him.

  “Little one,” he greeted me with a smile. “Here. You may suckle me.” I knelt before him on a pelt.

  “Go slowly,” he ordered me. “Be gentle. Lick me here,” he cupped his balls. “Until I say otherwise.”

  Eyes heavy, mouth soft, I obeyed, lapping at his salty flesh as he stroked my hair. I could pleasure him like that for hours, if he wanted.

  At last he came, spurting into my mouth.

  “Sweet one,” he said, and I treasured the look in his eye. I could pretend I was beautiful, wanted and precious. Pure.

  “Sage, here,” Thorbjorn signaled to me. I moved to him, content crawling on my hands and knees. We kept the floor clean, and I liked how small I felt down there, low and protected. I didn’t need to stand and defend myself, or posture with tense arms and shoulders, ready to dodge a blow. My mates would protect me.

  I pleasured Thorbjorn until my mouth ached. He gave me breaks, sending me crawling for a tank of mead and then a few horns. I retrieved them one by one, holding them in my mouth.

  “Good girl,” he said, and pleasure thrummed through me. He wound his fingers into my hair, and drew my mouth onto his cock. I kept my body loose and relaxed, letting him guide me. I felt small and safe down on the floor, serving as they drank their mead and talked of battles they fought and won long ago. I could curl up at their feet and not fear.

  “You suck well,” he told me. “Come up to my lap.”

  He had me lie across his knees to remove the plug first, then sit up so he could feed me. When we were done, I rubbed my nipples against his chest, and watched his gaze intensify. His hand cupped my bottom, rubbing bare skin under the little dress. His fingers quickly found my crevice, kept clean and shaved from his thorough ministrations, and teased my back hole. Constant stimulation made me sensitive there, and pleasure rolled through me just as if he touched my cunt.

  “Please,” I whimpered.

  “What does my sweet one want?”

  “I want this.” I touched his cock, the hard line jutting along his leg.

  “Then to your knees and beg for it.”

  I slid down, pussy wet, and planted little kisses along his inner leg, nudging aside his loin cloth to nuzzle the flared head. A sharp inhale told me how much he wanted me.

  He nodded permission, and I scooted closer, rolling the turgid shaft between my small hands.

  “Up,” he tugged my hair. I rose. Leaning against him, I spread my legs to slide down on his ready pole.

  Rolf came and bent over me, filling my back hole with his fingers, keeping me stretched. I writhed on Thorbjorn’s cock, full to bursting with stimulation.

  It was too much, and I flopped onto Thorbjorn’s chest, climaxing. The men took me to bed.

  The storm raged for days, but I lost all sense of time. The men plugged me every morning, and fucked me senseless every night. We were in our perfect space. A world of our own, without care.

  But we could not stay there forever. The rains blew away, and left only the storm. A wild wind blew through the forest, carrying a sharp, acidic scent. Beyond the trees the sky was mottled with purple and grey clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance, into the night.

  “There is magic out there,” Rolf said. He paced back and forth on the porch, and would not leave to hunt. At night, he slept as a wolf, and woke us with his whimpers. I tried to go to him, but Thorbjorn stopped me.

  “We must have care. He dreams o
f the time the witch had him. He is not here with us.”

  The next day the storm was worse. The warriors did not allow me outside, and did not go out themselves. We were almost out of food. I fell asleep, knowing we would soon leave.

  Thorbjorn shook me awake. “Come, little one.”

  He led me through the forest. It was night but flashes of lightning lit our way. Rolf darted through the trees ahead of us.

  “Not far now.” Thorbjorn picked me up and bent almost double to run through a tunnel. The place smelled earthy and close. I tightened my grip around his neck, wishing I was strong enough to run with him, holding one of the axes. We burst from the wood, a great mist hung over the land, almost obscuring a full moon.

  “We’ve returned.” Relief weighted Thorbjorn’s voice. “The moon is still full. Not a day has past.”

  “Either that, or a whole age,” Rolf said drily. He rose from a crouch where he’d been waiting in man form. It’d been a few days since I’d seen him.

  “No, the air smells the same,” Thorbjorn set me down and I ran to Rolf.

  “You’re back.”

  “Yes.” He drew me close. The lines around his mouth and eyes looked deeper, but he looked as relieved as I felt.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “Now, we go home.”

  Rolf

  The rain had fallen for days. I had stayed inside, at first because the wolf hated to get wet, and then because the strange forest stank of dark magic.

  The scent drew things from me. Memories.

  The witch who Changed us into monsters was beautiful. She had blonde hair she wore in a braid down her back. Half of us were in love with her by the time the night came for her to cast the spell. She called a wolf pack to her and killed them all, and bid us drink their blood. I remember her hand wrapping around my wrist as she had me lift the cup to my mouth. The magic swamped me, sick-tasting and buzzing like a plague of locusts.

  When I woke I was a wolf. The witch’s magic still cloaked me, barbed and hooked into my very soul. It was a moon before Thorbjorn found me.

  Back in the cabin, I remembered this. As the storms grew the witch haunted my dreams. I reverted to the wolf and begged Thorbjorn to let us leave before the witch he bargained with changed her mind, and trapped us there as pets.

  I did not breathe easy until we broke from the Otherworld. The mist still lay on the land—the Corpse King’s work. We could not reach the pack, but we knew our way. We would soon be home. Perhaps then I could find freedom in our mate’s arms.

  We were almost to the mountain when we ran into a patrol of Grey Men.

  Thorbjorn

  Stay back! Rolf shouted via the bond. Keep her away.

  This mist, we cannot linger.

  If you come forward, you will step into a contingent of Grey Men. The Corpse King is still looking for his brides.

  We were not gone too long then.

  Not too long, but not long enough. Rolf shared with me an image of draugr streaming past his hiding place.

  How did he get so many servants? I adjusted Sage in my arms. “Be still, sweet one. Still and very, very quiet.”

  His curse sweeps through villages and Changes them at will.

  We must put him down. He will only grow more powerful.

  First, we must save our mate, Rolf reminded me.

  Agreed. We’d come to a ravine, and hid, pressed among the scrub brush and boulders. There were Grey Men in the valley below, staggering around pools of water, searching for us. Can you reach the Alphas? I asked.

  I keep trying. The bond is blocked. We’re on our own.

  Shifting Sage to my back, I climbed the cliff wall. If we could get away from these walking corpses, we could go around another way.

  Sage whimpered on my back.

  “Hang on, little one.” I said a prayer to the goddess, grateful for the weeks we’d spent in the Otherworld that allowed Sage to heal.

  I’d almost reached the top when a foul stench filled my lungs. A grey face appeared above us, and I almost lost my grip trying to hide. I dragged Sage in front of me, sheltering her with my body. My foot slipped. Sage bit back a scream, grabbing me. I hung from one hand, hoping the Grey Men above would not look further past the ledge they stood on.

  Thorbjorn! Are you all right?

  I found my footing. Fine. I shuffled along the cliff side, moving Sage along in front of me until we found a little path.

  We’re all right. We found a way up, but the Grey Men are waiting above us.

  If you found a way up, then they can find a way down, Rolf said.

  I know. We’re surrounded. We cannot get out.

  We need a distraction. As soon as he said it, I realized his plan.

  Rolf…no!

  I looked down to see my warrior brother Change into a monster, and make ready to leap down on the enemy.

  Before Rolf could move, Sage slipped from my arms and ran up the path.

  Sage

  I ran up the mountain path, racing to outdistance Thorbjorn. Ahead of me, eerie figures moved in the mist, and a rotten smell hit me.

  The Grey Men stopped as I hurtled up the path. Arms opened as if waiting for me. Their very skin seemed to slough off of their bones.

  I shied in horror.

  “Sage! Stop!”

  “Take me,” I shouted to the first Grey Man.

  “If you leave them alone, you can take me. But you will not hurt them.”

  The Grey Man moved forward and I slammed to a stop. I found a boulder and stepped out on it, my feet finding the edge. “I’ll throw myself over. Hurt them and you will not have me.”

  A light flickered in front of the Grey Men. A helmeted figure appeared, taller than the tallest Grey Man, almost as tall as Berserker, but thin. Skeletal. It raised a bony hand. A stinking wind sliced through me.

  “Me for them,” I told the specter. “Do we have a bargain?”

  It nodded.

  “Sage, run!”

  Two monsters barreled up the path after me. My tears choked my throat. They’d done everything they could to care for me. It was my turn.

  “Go home,” I told them. “Live your life. Take a mate who is worthy.” She will be clean and pure, everything you deserve. “Go!”

  Cold hands grabbed my arms, drew me back. I did not feel them, did not see anything but Rolf and Thorbjorn coming after me.

  The Grey Men pushed past me, pikes out, pointed.

  “No,” I screamed, turning back to the specter. “You promised!”

  It reached for me, and I felt a sudden chill, a wind rushing past me. It would touch me, and I’d be transported, perhaps to another world where I could never be free.

  I fought then, kicking at the Grey Men carrying me. The old Sage was weak and small, but I’d spent weeks eating well, and breathing in the magical air of the Otherworld. If I didn’t get free, Thorbjorn and Rolf would die.

  A roar went up, a bellow of rage and pain. My mates, diving into the fray.

  I got free from the Grey Men, and fell hard. A knife fell beside me, and I grabbed it up, slicing at legs, crawling until I broke away, rolling to the cliff’s edge.

  I rose, the knife at my throat.

  “Stay away,” I gurgled. “Let us by, or I will end this. You will not have me. And my mates will dedicate their lives to ending yours.”

  The specter raised a hand.

  Mist swirled, but, somehow, I could see clearly.

  “You don’t have any power over me,” I told it. “You cannot claim my mind. My mates are with me.”

  The Grey Men inched closer. I backed away, my feet scrabbled on the rocks and I nearly cut my own neck. My neck stung from the cut, and the sight of blood must have convinced the Corpse King that I would take my own life.

  The Grey Men dropped their pikes. The ones closest to the monsters took the brunt of their rage as Rolf and Thorbjorn tore up the path, reaching me just as the specter flickered away.

  “Sage!” The monster that was Thorbj
orn tossed me up into his arms, and then we were running, running. We did not stop until a mountain loomed out of the mist.

  Only then did I release my grip on the knife.

  I almost screamed with dark shapes emerged out of the fog to flank us.

  “It’s all right,” Thorbjorn grunted. “They are our comrades.”

  Berserkers took their place beside us, escorting us. The mist grew patchy, enough I could catch glimpses of Rolf’s wolf running ahead of us. It disappeared into the forest, and the guards walking with us fell away, leaving me alone with Thorbjorn. Blood had dried on his forehead; I stroked it away, frowning at the gashes on his back.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “It’ll heal,” he grunted, his face set like stone. He did not look at me.

  I cupped the side of his jaw and stroked his cheekbone. “I’m sorry. I did what I had to, to save us.”

  He shifted me in his arms, breaking my hold without speaking.

  Unease settled in my heart.

  A building appeared out of the thick woods, made from giant trees. Their stumps still littered the clearing in front of the lodge. Thorbjorn marched silently through the doors and set me down.

  “Thorbjorn? Where’s Rolf?”

  “Gone. He will report to the Alphas. I must also.”

  “Thorbjorn,” I called, halting him on his way out. “I’m sorry. I could not lose you.”

  He only turned away.

  “Thorbjorn,” I begged. “Please. Stop and speak to me.”

  “Stay inside,” he ordered. “I will send someone to you.” He kept his eyes averted.

  I sucked my breath in with a sob. “Don’t leave me.”

  His head snapped up. His eyes were gold. He opened his mouth, shook his head once, and left, drawing the doors together with such force the dust motes danced.

  I curled into a ball and wept.

  The door creaked open while I lay numb on the bed.

  “Sage?” called a familiar voice. A young woman poked her head in. Sunlight outlined the golden head, hair woven into a braid crowning her head.