Page 34 of Her Viking Master

My cheeks burned as I remembered the events in the bathing chamber, the way Camille’s tongue had felt against my moist pussy. I glanced at her, seeing a similar blush creeping up her neck.

Hesitantly, we approached the basket. I reached in and pulled out one of the breast bands, frowning a bit at the softness of the linen. I wondered how many young women had worn it, how many times it had been washed over the years for it to reach such a texture.

“Into your training pairs,”MorAstrid instructed. “Mary and Camille, Sophie and Amélie, Yvette and Fleur.”

I turned to face Camille, the breast band clutched in my trembling hands. Her dark eyes met mine, a mixture of defiance and vulnerability in their depths.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she muttered, lifting her arms above her head.

I stepped closer, my heart racing. The scent of her skin filled my nostrils—a mixture of the herbal soap from our bath and something uniquely Camille.

“Maybe… hold it up?” I said uncertainly. “Or…”

I reached out and pressed one end of the band to the center of Camille’s chest, suddenly very shy and trying not to touch anything too sensitive. My fingers brushed against the soft swell of her flesh, though, and I heard her sharp intake of breath.

I bit my lip, and walked around her as she stood with her arms raised, winding the band all the way to the front again.

“D’accord,” Camille said. “I think that’s it.”

The fabric was long enough to go around her chest twice and then to be tucked under her arm.

“Nice and tight, now,” instructedMorAstrid. “It will be a bit uncomfortable, yes—but much better than having yourbrjóstbouncing as you run.”

Camille gasped a little, in what I could tell must be a mixture of discomfort and arousal, as I tried to secure the band. Over to our right, Yvette’s first attempt fell from Fleur’s chest and she had to start again, with a mild curse under her breath.

I stepped back to survey my work. I couldn’t help but notice how it accentuated the shape of Camille’s breasts, making them look even more enticing than they had when bare.

“Is it… is it bearable?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Camille nodded, not meeting my eyes. “It’s fine,” she said. “Your turn.” She reached for another band from the basket.

I raised my arms, mimicking her earlier pose. Camille’s hands were surprisingly gentle as she wound the band around my B-cup breasts. I shivered as her fingers skimmed along my sides, tucking the linen in under my arm, and then I gasped as she tightened the bind. The material felt cool against my skin at first, but quickly warmed to my body temperature.

“There,” Camille said, stepping back. “All done.”

I looked down at myself, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I saw the effect—how it conveyed a subtle hint of… well, of binding.

Of bondage. My breasts, bound, because I must serve my master and his brothers.

“Alright,”MorAstrid said, clapping her hands. “On to the treadmills.”

As I stepped onto the treadmill, I felt a mixture of pride and apprehension. My years of playing lacrosse had kept me in excellent shape, and I knew my endurance was strong. ButMorAstrid’s words about this being more than just a physical test sent a shiver down my spine.

The cool rubber of the treadmill belt felt strange against my bare feet as I began to walk, gradually increasing my pace to a steady jog. The whir of the machines filled the air, punctuated by the soft pants and occasional grunts of exertion from the other girls.

“As I said before, girls,”MorAstrid’s voice rang out over the noise, “this warmup is not merely about your physical fitness. It is about your sexual relationship with your bodies.”

I felt my cheeks flush at her words, my mind racing with possibilities of what that could mean. The breast band suddenly felt tighter, more constricting, as if emphasizing my new status as a bed thrall.

“The equipment in this training hall,”MorAstrid continued, her tone matter-of-fact, “can sense a broad range of biometrics. Your heart rate, of course, but also your body temperature, the dilation of your blood vessels, even the minute changes in your skin’s electrical conductivity that indicate arousal.”

My breath caught in my throat. Could the machine really detect such things? I became hyperaware of my body—the sweat beginning to bead on my skin, the way my nipples had hardened against the linen band, the growing warmth between my thighs that had nothing to do with the exercise.

As I ran, I couldn’t help but imagine what the machine might be sensing. Was it measuring the quickening of my pulse, not just from exertion, but from the shameful excitement building within me? Could it detect the flush creeping across my skin, the way my pussy had begun to throb with each step?

I glanced to my left, catching Camille’s eye. Her face was a mask of determination, but I could see the same conflicted emotions in her dark gaze. To my right, Sophie seemed almost eager, her lithe body moving with grace as she ran.

“Push yourselves, girls,”MorAstrid commanded. “We need to see how your bodies respond under stress.”

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