The Viking's Captive

by Lily Harlem

  “You will understand when I start.”

  She bit on her bottom lip. She’d reached the point she just wanted him to begin so it would be over.

  There was a small clunk to her right.

  He’d picked up the bread board.

  She gulped. It was made of solid oak, the surface flat and wide. She was sure it would deliver a wicked spank.

  She didn’t have long to ponder the fact.

  Whack.

  “Ouch!” She jolted, but tried not to push too far up the table. Heat seared over her right cheek.

  Whack.

  She tried to hold in a yelp, but failed. Her left cheek had taken the strike this time. Now that was on fire, the same as the other one. The wooden board delivered such an even spread of pain.

  He used it again, once on each cheek.

  Her eyes welled with tears. She curled her fingers so tight her nails dug into her palms.

  “This is a fitting punishment for your crime. A hen lost her life this eve.”

  “I know. I am sorry.” She deserved this. She’d been so neglectful. Poor hen had done nothing wrong. It had trusted her to care for it. She’d let it down.

  “Now remember, keep still, this is the start of the real punishment.”

  The start?

  “Oh, God.” She moaned and went onto her toes. How would she keep still if the smacks pushed her up the table?

  The wooden board came down on her again, each cheek. He then set up a steady rhythm alternating between the two.

  He wasn’t throwing his strength into it, the strokes were fairly light but the sheer number of them, layering up the heat had her groaning and twisting her head from side to side. Plus the size of the board meant so much flesh was punished on each spank.

  After a minute he paused and rubbed over her buttocks. “You’re very red now.”

  “Yes, Master, is it over?”

  “No, not yet.”

  He started up again.

  She regretted asking. Closing her eyes meant two tears squeezed out and trickled over her face.

  He owned her buttocks, they were his to do with as he pleased.

  A sudden thought came to her as she suffered her punishment.

  Is this making his cock hard?

  She gripped the side of the table. A new sensation had seized her. It was deep in her belly and traveled to her cunny. The heat of the spanks seemed to add to it.

  “You’re doing well.”

  She groaned as moisture again formed between her legs.

  What does this mean?

  “Please…” she gasped.

  “Please stop?”

  “Yes… oh, Master, no more.”

  To her surprise he did stop, though he kept the wooden board squashed up against her flesh, sending new tingles of pain sparking over her ass.

  “No more, you say.”

  “I am sorry. It will never happen again, for as long as I’m here.”

  Whack.

  She cried out.

  “You will always be here,” he shouted. “You are mine.”

  She was panting, the sensation in her cunny new and throbbing, her ass a furnace of pain.

  He stepped to the side, the wooden board falling to the floor with a loud clatter.

  She hoped that meant it was the end of her suffering and humiliation.

  “Say it,” he said. “Say you are mine.”

  “I am yours.” She held back a sob. Never had she felt so owned. So taken by anyone. Halvor filled her thoughts, her life, and took charge of her body.

  She opened her eyes. His groin was level with her face.

  Holding in a gasp, she stared at what was before her.

  Behind the material of his breeches, it was clear his cock was as solid as iron. It confirmed her suspicions that spanking her made his cock hard, made him want to find pleasure.

  A thrill went through her. It was similar to when she’d returned from the lake with the ginger in her ass and her buttocks reddened. It was a need for something. A wave of excitement. A longing that needed sating. But she didn’t know what she yearned for or how to satisfy the hunger.

  Or did she?

  She reached forward, stroked the tips of her fingers over the wedge of flesh. Mesmerized by the size and shape, she traced the outline of Halvor’s cock.

  He hissed in a breath and tensed. “Thrall!”

  She was emboldened, as if some kind of new bravery was filling her blood and whooshing around her body. Curiosity gnawed at her, adding to her brazenness.

  “Master,” she said, her voice breathy. “Why does this happen each time?”

  For a moment she thought he’d push her hand away, but he didn’t, instead he leaned into her touch.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Halvor stared down at Duna’s hand over his member. Admittedly there was material between their flesh, but still, it had an effect on him he imagined was like a lightning bolt kissing his cock.

  He held his breath. Locked his knees so he wouldn’t fall over, and canted his hips forward for her touch.

  It was so delicate, her fingertips like feathers floating over him. So different to the way he’d grip it himself.

  He adored it.

  And her expression, it was one of utter enthrallment. He could easily believe it was her first touch of manhood.

  Surely not.

  “Duna,” he said, running his hand over her silky hair.

  She looked up at him, her long eyelashes batting and repeated her question. “Why does this happen?”

  “Do you not know?”

  She lifted her cheek from the table and shook her head. “No, Master.”

  “You should.”

  “I’m sorry, if I’ve let you down again by not being wise.”

  He ran his palm from the crown of her head to her cheek. “You have not disappointed me. You have taken your punishment, we are once again on a clean slate.”

  “Thank you.” She ran her small fingers to the base of his cock. “I prefer to be on a clean slate.”

  He sucked in a breath as her touch traversed his balls. They were always so sensitive when he was hard.

  ‘Master, why does this happen each time?’

  Her question came back to him; it was as if it wasn’t the first time she’d been aware of him getting erect during a spanking—a thing that was still new to him.

  “I… I am a man, with desires,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t hear the tension in his voice. For resisting her, with her ripe, rosy ass tipped over the table, was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  “And your desires are for what?”

  “A woman. Surely you know that.”

  “I feel I’m learning of such things, for when I saw you…” Her top teeth bit on her bottom lip.

  “When you saw me what?”

  “Nothing, Master.”

  “It is not nothing. What is on your mind?” He prayed for Odin to give him strength, thinking straight was becoming impossible.

  “When I saw you at the lake that day, holding this.” As she’d spoken she’d wrapped her small feminine hand over his cock.

  Oh, that feels good.

  “What?” A shard of unease sliced through him. “What did you see?”

  She was silent.

  “Tell me. I can easily pick up this board and continue to tan your hide, thrall.” He had to know.

  “I saw…

  “What? Tell me…”

  He hoped he’d sounded serious, because truth was, he didn’t think it would be good to get her buttocks any more stained. She’d taken all she could. But he had to know what she’d seen.

  “I was disobedient,” she whispered. “I stayed, behind a rock. I saw you take your own body in hand and what you did to it…”

  He stared down at her. She truly was a Celtic wench of the worst sort. “You saw. You watched. But I told you to…”

  She screwed her eyes up tight but continued to stroke his cock over his breeches. “I know. I couldn’t

help myself. I… you… it fascinated me.”

  A wave of embarrassment heated his scalp and cheeks but he quickly rid it. Her seeing a natural, male experience wasn’t something he should be ashamed of. “I told you to go to the longhouse and keep the ginger in your ass until you got there.”

  “I know, Master, and I did keep it in, but I didn’t go straight there, and for that I beg your forgiveness.”

  He pressed his lips together, both enjoying her touch and holding in his anger at her disobedience.

  Again.

  “Stand up,” he said. “Rearrange your clothes.”

  “But, Master…”

  “Do it.” He stepped away and pushed his hands through his hair. If she didn’t hide her ass, he’d grab hold of it, the reddest section, and plunge into her cunny, or maybe even her ass. His cock was uncomfortably hard.

  She obeyed him, for a change. And quickly stood, pulling up her undergarments and pushing down her dress.

  “What do you want of me, Master?” She came to stand before him. “For I know I must be punished for watching you in a private moment.”

  He stared at her flushed face and her wide, pleading eyes.

  “Master.” She gripped her hands beneath her chin. “I beg you, tell me what I can do to atone for my disobedience. I never should have watched you.”

  Still he didn’t speak. He watched her mouth as she spoke, saw the tremble in her lip.

  She made a strange sobbing sound, closed her eyes, and sank to the floor, crumbling with her hands still clasped tight at her throat.

  “Duna.” He cupped her chin and forced her to look up at him. “What do you think I should do with you?”

  “Spank me, Master.”

  “Do you want that?”

  She shook her head. “No, my rear is on fire.” She blinked rapidly.

  “I agree, it would not be good for you, and I never want a punishment to do you harm.”

  “Thank you, Master.” Her attention slipped from his face to his groin.

  For the grace of Odin, just her gaze on him made his cock surge.

  “Touch it, again.”

  “Master?”

  “My cock.”

  She swallowed, then reached forward and cupped her palm over his long wedge of flesh.

  He held in a groan.

  “Like this?” she asked.

  “Yes… more.”

  She began to stroke it, the way she had when she’d been on the table.

  His balls tingled and he tensed his belly.

  “Take it out?”

  Her gaze locked on his. Her lips parted but she didn’t speak.

  “It’s not a complex task, thrall, just a button or two.”

  She set to the assignment, her fingers shaking.

  It seemed to him she was going super slow; his impatience was growing. This was rapidly becoming a hardening that would have to have a conclusion. He’d need to get release.

  His breeches loosened and he shoved at them, allowing them to sit at his thighs. His cock sprang forward, and she rose up on her knees, so it was level with her face.

  He grasped it in his fist. His pulse thudded against his palm.

  “It’s… it’s so…”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Big. I never thought they could be of such a size.”

  “I’m a Viking warrior, Duna, you really think I’d have a small cock?”

  “No, but…”

  “But nothing, you should accept it, the way I accept you are a small Celt woman with only just enough meat on your bones.”

  She reached out, with the tip of her finger, and stroked over his slit.

  He held his breath as she circled his glans, exploring his shape.

  She then nudged his hand, as if she wanted him to release his shaft.

  He did, and she wrapped her small fingers around it.

  He groaned, a long low sound that rumbled around his chest.

  “You like that, Master?”

  “Yes,” he hissed. “More, move it, the way you must have seen me do, at the lake.”

  She smiled. “I can do that.”

  And she did, working him root to tip with both of her hands. Her fingers were a tight circle around his length and she got the pressure just right.

  “Will I still be punished, Master? For watching you?”

  “No, no, not if you do this right.” The pressure was building. He clenched his buttocks and locked his knees

  He caught her jaw again. “Open your mouth.”

  She hesitated for a second, then her sweet lips parted.

  “Take it, into your mouth.”

  Surprise crossed her face, and then she tipped forward and took his tip between her lips.

  “Ah, Duna, more…”

  She swiped her tongue around his glans, then took him deeper.

  The warm wetness was bliss, and with her still working his shaft he knew he wouldn’t be long.

  “My beautiful slave, take me deeper.”

  He groaned as she did just that, and cupped the back of her head. It was tempting to thrust, take her mouth roughly, but he didn’t want her to gag. Even so, he was unable to resist setting up a swinging action with his hips, going in and out of her, fucking her mouth.

  He tightened his clasp on her hair and closed his eyes. He could feel the roof of her mouth, the soft pillow of her tongue and when he went to full depth, her throat on his cock tip.

  “You’re going to have to… swallow my seed,” he said through gritted teeth. “Get ready, slave.”

  She’d surrendered to him, the way she did in a spanking, allowing him to own her body.

  He tore his eyes open and looked down at her. The image sparked his orgasm. Seeing her on her knees, taking his big cock into her pretty mouth, sent pleasure rushing through his length.

  He spurted into her throat, yelling out his satisfaction as he did so.

  She swallowed, the action tugging his cock tip.

  “Aye, aye… more. There’s more.”

  He held her head firm as another shot of seed flooded her mouth.

  She took it, though he could feel she was tense, her breathing rapid.

  “That’s it, I’m finished.” He was panting. It had been a very good release, much better than using his own hand.

  He pulled from her mouth and dragged up his breeches. He stooped, slotted his hands into her armpits, and drew her to standing.

  Her face was even more flushed now, and her lips appeared swollen and redder than usual. And her eyes, they were filled with something he hadn’t seen before. Was it excitement, wonder, desire? He wasn’t sure. But he liked what he saw in her eyes very much.

  “Did I please you?” she asked.

  “Yes, slave, you did.”

  She smiled. “I’m glad.”

  He touched her cheek, then ran his finger to her mouth and traced the seam of her lips. “My cock enjoyed being here.”

  “Will you do it again?”

  Her question had surprised him.

  “Instead of a spanking, if I disobey you?” she asked.

  “I hope you won’t disobey me. We have many responsibilities here at the farmstead. Mistakes like losing an animal are costly.”

  “Of course I will try not to.” She lowered her gaze.

  “In answer to your question,” he said. “Yes, I may do that again, if the situation arises that your rear cannot be subjected to further punishment.”

  “Yes, Master. I understand.”

  He tore his gaze from her face and stepped away. He’d found his pleasure with her. She’d been willing, she’d touched his cock first. But even though it had been described as her punishment, had she actually enjoyed it?

  He threw another log on the fire, then looked over his shoulder at her.

  She was rubbing her lips, which were curved into a gentle smile. She was still breathing a little faster than normal, her dress lifting over the mounds of her small breasts.

  Oh, yes, she’d enjoyed it. Even though she hadn’t found pleasure with her cunny, the experience had been a good one for her. Hardly a harsh chastisement the way the spanking with the paddle had been.

  He picked the board up from the floor. “Go fetch the bread,” he said, “and ale for us both.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  As she walked to the barrel he admired the sway of her hips. She’d put on a little meat since she’d been with him, despite working hard. He was providing better for her than her father had done. He was abiding by his word and caring for his woman.

  He smoothed his hand over the board as she poured ale into two casks. Her rear had turned such a glowing shade of red with the board, much quicker than with his palm. He’d liked the noises both the wood on flesh had made and her gasps and cries. But despite that he was impressed with how stoically she always took her punishments, how she resigned herself to them. There was still a wildness about her, though, he saw it in her eyes from time to time. He would have to look out for it.

  “Here, Master.” She handed him a full cask.

  He took it and drank deep.

  She did the same.

  “Do you like the ale?” he asked her, as he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.

  “I didn’t to start with, Master, but I do now.”

  He nodded. “Did you like the taste of me?”

  She raised her eyebrows and her lips parted, then she smiled and tipped her head. “I didn’t like you to start with either, but I do now.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  One month later

  “It is Thor’s Day, Duna, so I’m going into the town, to the market,” Halvor said as he strode from the longhouse.

  Duna rushed after him. “Am I coming with you?” They’d just finished their morning meal, dagmál as Halvor called it.

  “I would like to take you, but with Raven sick, Odin only knows what he’s eaten, I need you to watch the sheep in the pasture.”

  She understood but was disappointed. She’d been to the town once before with Halvor and enjoyed the hustle and bustle and the wide array of produce to trade. There was so much to see, her head had spun with excitement. He’d bought her a new set of spoons, made of horns, which were smooth and perfect for the broths she liked to make.

  “I’m going to get leather,” he said, nodding at his feet. “I am hoping you’ll make me some new boots.” His were becoming worn and frayed.

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