by Zoe Blake
Freyr grunted. “True.” He took hold of me with Steen’s assistance and flipped me back onto my back. “Well then, I shall feel these sweet lips around my prick.”
Steen resumed his position surging forward, holding me immobile so I could adjust to the size of his dick stretching me fully once again while Freyr pushed his hard cock past my lips and deep into my mouth.
I wanted to scream, to moan, to beg for them to stop, but at the same time, I wanted to beg for them to begin. Wave after wave of conflicting emotions and feelings washed over me. Wrong versus right. Pain versus pleasure. Submission versus resistance.
Freyr eased his thickness to the back of my throat, while Steen began thrusting slowly, setting a tempo for the both of them. In and out, back and forth, the two of them fluidly controlled my body. The pressure, the fullness, the dual possession—I had no choice but to succumb fully to their control. I released everything to them and truly became a slave to their mastery.
They moved rough and fast, pumping furiously in my cunny and mouth until I felt the hot jets of both their climaxes deep within and heavy on my tongue, and a screaming release tore through me, leaving me shaking and gasping for air. My quivering walls milked Steen dry while I swallowed every last drop of cum from his twin. They both regained their composure as a warm heat flowed through my veins.
I couldn’t speak, not that I would know what to say if I could. The smell of sex mixed with the thick silence of the room. Even though the three of us were all physically joined as one, we were distant and deep within our own selves. Pleasured, replete, satiated, and yet…there seemed to be a sense of wonder cast over our intertwined bodies. As if we were all questioning how what had started out as nothing more than an animalistic act seemed to affect us all in a way none of us could explain.
Ten
Sit down and eat your toast and jam like a good girl,” said Steen as he handed me a plate with a thick slice of warm bread slathered with butter and boysenberry preserves.
Dutifully nodding yes, I curled my legs up beneath me and snuggled further into the quilt wrapped warmly around my body. It was now becoming my habit to grab the quilt off of whoever’s bed I arose from and drag it downstairs to sit before the fire in the morning. It was out of practicality, because I was usually left with no clothes after one of the huntsmen had finished with me. Yes, practicality. It had nothing to do with me wanting to surround myself in their scent or with me associating the warmth of the blanket with the warmth of their arms as they held me in bed as we slept. No, not at all. And it most definitely had nothing to do with me prolonging the memory of what had just occurred. Absolutely not! That would be absurd. Why would I want to preserve memories of pain and fear? Because they weren’t just memories of pain and fear, a little voice in my head nagged. They were also memories of intense passion, of feeding off their energy till my core buzzed with it…of finally feeling like I was living! Yes, life in all its messy glory.
No longer driven numb by the cold isolation of my former existence, my life now hummed with every spectrum of emotion…fear, confusion, anger, passion…maybe even love.
These boorish men with their forceful needs were also protective and almost kind in a primitive, dominant sort of way. They showed their kindness in a raw, straightforward manner, like making sure I was eating enough or was warm enough, not with words but with deeds.
As I sat on the cushioned bench, idly staring into the dancing flames, I realized with a start that I was enjoying the attention from these seven men, even enjoying their touch…and if I were completely honest with myself, their punishments. It reminded me of a child who misbehaves just to get attention because after spending so many years being ignored, it was exhilarating to know your every move, your every word, your every deed…and misdeed…was being noticed by someone…that someone cared enough to notice…and react.
I was so lost in my thoughts I almost didn’t notice when Odin sat on the bench next to mine and placed a package wrapped in brown paper on the seat beside me.
“What is this?”
Clearing his throat, he gruffly said, “It’s just something we picked up for you in town.”
Staring at him, I could almost imagine there was a slight blush to his cheek. Pulling on the string, I slowly opened the package, wanting to savor every moment. I had not received a gift from someone since my father died all those years ago. Placing the string aside, I opened the folds of the crisp brown paper to reveal a folded piece of fabric in a bright, beautiful yellow. It looked like the plumage of a bird with its cheerful color. Touching the cloth almost reverently, I reveled in the soft, silky feel. Lifting the fabric up, I realized it was a skirt and underneath was a linen blouse, and a vest in deep blue with shiny, polished buttons. Beneath the clothing was a pair of black slippers.
“Oh, Odin! They are lovely!” I exclaimed as I jumped up and impulsively placed a kiss on his cheek.
Hiding a smile, he blushed and bashfully lowered his head. “It’s nothing. Just a bit of finery we thought you might like, lass.”
“Besides, we are all running out of shirts for you to ruin,” chimed in an amused Magni.
“It is not I who tears them off my body!” I responded indignantly.
My spirited response got a rousing laugh from all the men.
“Try them on. Let’s see if they fit,” piped in Jerrik.
Feeling a little shy from all the attention, I awkwardly tried to hold the quilt around my shoulders and gather up the garments to take them upstairs so I could change.
“Where are you going?” asked Dagr.
“To put on my new clothes.”
“You can stay right here before the fire and do that.”
“Here?”
“Here,” they all responded in unison.
It was not the first time they had made me bare myself to their eyes, but this time it felt…different. Before, I’d felt humiliated and degraded, but now I had this strange sense of empowerment. This surge of excitement from being the center of attention to so many brawny men. I was still nervous and shy but in an intense, sensual way.
Slowly, I let the blanket fall from my naked shoulders.
From their appreciative gazes, I knew they were pleased both with my obedience and with my body. Before, it had been just my body, nothing special, but since becoming the captive of the huntsmen, I had developed a whole new awareness of myself. Of the heavy feel of my breasts when they touched me. How my stomach clenched in fear and anticipation. How rough their hands felt on my soft skin when they stroked my thigh or back. Of the tingling sensation between my legs when they looked at me as they were now.
So far, I had only experienced them one at a time with the exception of my punishment with Freyr and Steen. What would it be like to have that intense attention from all of them at the same time, my wicked mind wondered unbidden? Confused and shocked by the nature of my thoughts, I concentrated on quickly donning the new clothing.
I was pleased and proud when they clapped and whistled their appreciation for how I looked. They made me twirl and dance about so they could all get a look at my new attire. A few of them even took me into their arms and showed me the steps of a country jig.
Yes, I was definitely enjoying this strange new existence of mine.
Eleven
No!” I shouted with all my might. “I may be your prisoner but I am still a princess, not a scullery maid.”
“Lass, you will do as you are told. We all pull our weight here. Even you,” scolded Tore.
The atmosphere in the cabin had taken on a tense, dangerous feel. Tore was correct. Everyone did chores around the cabin, but I didn’t feel that should also include me. I might have been adapting to my new situation, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t still forced into it. In my mind, I was already doing my part by obeying their wicked demands in bed. Did I have to scrape and clean like a servant as well?
Crossing my arms over my chest, I became adamant. No matter what the punishment, I refused to be
forced onto my knees to scrub the floor. It was one indignity too far in my estimation. Especially since it was likely to ruin my pretty new skirt.
“Men. Go without me. It is past time Snow received a punishment from me,” said Dagr as he lowered his gear to the floor and began to slowly unbutton the thick leather vest he always wore.
Lowering my arms, I looked about me. Out of all the men, I was most afraid of Dagr. With his dark eyes and lowered brow, it seemed as if a turbulent mood always simmered just below the calm surface of his regard.
Running over to Steen, the gentlest of the men, I grabbed his arm. “Please, don’t leave me with him.”
Steen shook his head giving me a sympathetic look. “You brought this on yourself, little one.” He loosened my grip and followed the other men out the door.
The cabin descended into silence.
Dagr took a step forward.
Stretching my arm out in front of me, I cried out, “Stop! Don’t you come any closer!”
His only response was a deep chuckle as he began to roll up the linen cuffs of his sleeves.
I had only one choice…run.
Bolting for the stairs, my foot barely touched the smooth wood of the first step before a strong arm wrapped around my waist and snatched me up high. Bucking my hips as I kicked out, I called him every vile curse I had recently learned from overhearing the men’s conversations.
His only response was that infuriating chuckle.
Letting out a howl of frustration, I clawed at his arm around my waist to no avail. He lifted me as if my weight was of no consequence and carried me to his bedroom.
The moment my feet touched the soft wool rug, I ran to the farthest corner. I had yet to be alone with Dagr and had never seen his inner sanctuary. Furtively looking about me, I was horrified to see every manner of wild beast staring back at me from the walls.
Vacant glassy eyes. Bared teeth. Vicious horns.
The entire chamber was an homage to Dagr’s dominance over these animals. A display of his superior strength and cunning. His trophies on display. I didn’t stand a chance.
“Please. Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’ll scrub the floors. Please!”
I watched in horror as he pulled his shirt over his head. His massive chest was only lightly dusted with coal black hair and covered in thick muscle, earned from hard labor. I could see the faint pink scars from old wounds. Small circular starbursts from wounds of the past. Long jagged lines from knives.
My inner thighs clenched. Despite my fear, I could feel a primal response to his display of brute, almost violent, strength. A deep feminine yearning. An ancient need to be claimed and protected by the fiercest and strongest of the clan.
I’d survived Freyr and Steen’s intense punishment.
I was not sure I would survive Dagr’s.
I tried to appease him again. “Please let me just scrub the floor. I will even wash all the clothes without the slightest complaint just please…please…don’t punish me.”
Dagr reached for the heavy buckle of his thick, leather belt.
As he loosened the strap, I shrank further back into the darkened corner less afraid of the beasts on the wall than I was of the beast in front of me.
“Snow, there are rules. You may have not chosen this new life of yours…but it is your life now. Disobedience leads to disorder, and with disorder comes danger and death. Everyone and everything in this world has a place and purpose. You need to learn yours. But by god, by the end of this night, you will know both.”
Unwrapping his belt, he flipped the long leather strap over a large tangle of horns which were suspended from the high ceiling.
I had not noticed it at first and now I did not know how I could have missed it. It spanned almost the length of my body. A macabre chandelier of antlers, horns and bone.
I watched in stunned confusion as he wrapped his belt around the large bone which ran the length and then buckled it to make a wide loop. Walking to a worn leather trunk at the end of the bed, he pulled free more leather straps and thick rawhide ropes.
Without even glancing my way, he commanded, “Take off your clothes, Snow.”
Wrapping my arms around my middle, I hesitated.
“You just got those pretty garments. It would be a shame if I was forced to tear them off you.”
His quietly uttered threat might as well have been a bellow for its effectiveness. Without another moment’s hesitation, my shaking fingers flew to the buttons of my blue vest. They had only given me a shirt, skirt and a vest…no undergarments. My breasts felt heavy as the constraining fabric of the vest loosened. Trying to bide my time, I carefully folded it and placed it to the side. Wanting to keep the protective, albeit flimsy, covering of the linen shirt for as long as possible, I reached back to unbutton the skirt. Reluctantly, I let it fall to my slippered feet.
All the while, I watched him weave several rawhide ropes and another leather strap around the various antlers and horns.
Bending over, I removed my new slippers. I hesitated.
“All of your clothes, Snow. I want you completely bare,” he ordered, again without even looking my way, as if he had a sixth sense for my movements.
Catching on the neckline of the shirt, my long black curls flipped up, then bounced down around my shoulders, not quite reaching my nipples as I pulled the fabric over my head.
Nervously, I shifted from foot to foot as a shiver ran down my spine despite the warm room. Under my lashes, I watched him remove his trousers. Heavy, muscled thighs, covered with more dark hair first met my gaze. Then, I caught sight of his cock, jutting proudly from between his legs. Swallowing in fear, I closed my eyes to block out the vision of the thick, long shaft. After a moment, I opened them again, not wanting to be caught unaware.
Walking over to the wall, Dagr unfurled the rope from around a wooden lever. The antler chandelier slowly lowered till it was several feet from the ground. He secured the rope around the lever and turned to me.
His dark eyes seemed to glow in the candlelight. His anticipation was palpable from the tense set of his shoulders to his fisted hands, to the firm set of his jaw. He radiated barely restrained arousal.
I didn’t dare look…there.
I opened my mouth to speak…to plead…to beg…but no sound came out. Just a pitiful squeak.
Placing his finger under my chin, he raised my head to his gaze. I could feel him taking my measure. Unconsciously, I licked my lips. He bared his teeth and let out a low growl. Slipping his hand behind my neck, he propelled me across the room. Placing his warm hands around my waist, he lifted and placed me on the leather loop created with his belt. The sharp edges of the leather cut into the lush flesh of my bottom as I tried to adjust my awkward position.
“Don’t move.”
“But…what—”
“Don’t move.”
Dagr then grabbed my left ankle and lifted it high, securing it inside a rawhide loop. I reached up to grab onto a pair of antlers just above my head as I strained to keep upright. He grabbed my other ankle and did the same. My legs were now outstretched on either side of his narrow hips. I blushed to see his gaze wander to my open and exposed cunny. The belt cut painfully into my skin now that my full weight was seated on the narrow strip of leather. I watched as Dagr circled behind me. I tried to turn my head to see what he would do next, but another darkly uttered reminder to stay still had me obediently facing forward.
His fingers delved into my hair. Sharp pricks of pain erupted across my scalp as he cruelly pulled on my long locks, forcing my head and torso back.
I cried out as my hands lost their grip on the smooth surface of the horns, and I fell backward. My body swung on my precarious perch as his strong hands used his grip on my hair to force me into a prone position.
“Lift your bottom and shift forward. Don’t stop till you feel the leather against your lower back.”
Anxious and uncertain, I could only obey.
With his hand supporting
my head, I shifted forward. I could then feel him place another leather strap under my neck. Completely suspended by the straps, I floated a few feet below a tangled web of horns and antlers…a trophy among trophies.
Dagr placed himself between my legs. My eyes widened as in my increasing agitated state, it looked as if he himself had turned into a beast. The horns from the chandelier appeared to crown his disarrayed locks and fierce brow.
“Please, I don’t like this. I’m scared.”
“Lass, you don’t know what fear is yet.”
Unable to take it a moment longer, I tried to sit up but my movements were ungainly given my precarious perch. In this unstable seat, I watched as Dagr released the rope holding the chandelier. I could not suppress a cry of shock as the chandelier pitched downward, jarring me as it very nearly hit the floor before being hoisted higher. Straining my neck to the side, I watched in horror as the ground receded.
Higher and higher.
Finally, my ascent stopped. Dagr approached. My prone body was just about in line with his shoulders. At first, I tried to twist and turn but quickly learned the slightest movement caused my leather sling to sway and pitch to an alarming degree.
My fear and panic were replaced by alarm when I felt Dagr’s warm hand on my bottom. It hung at a humiliating angle, jutting out beneath me.
“Such a beautiful trophy,” murmured Dagr. “That is what you are, Snow. A hunting trophy to me.”
Gripping the horns above my head, I tried to lift my hips to move away from his touch.
There was the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh before a hot burst of pain radiated across my buttocks.
“Move away from me again and I will get a belt and tan your hide,” he growled.
I bit my lip to keep from sobbing. Never in my life had I felt more vulnerable or more at the mercy of another person’s whim.
His hands closed over the lower swell of my bottom cheeks, prying them open.
“Look at that untouched little hole.”
