Page 58 of Her Viking Master

As this revelation washed over me, I became distantly aware of Beaumont’s and Georgy’s voices, floating up from the physical realm where they continued to use my body.

“Fuck, this ass feels amazing on my cock,” Georgy grunted. “So tight and hot.”

“Indeed,” Beaumont agreed, his voice strained with pleasure. “One of the best investments I’ve made in a long time.”

Their words seemed to echo around me, mingling with the rustling of leaves in Yggdrasil’s vast canopy. As the men’s pace increased, driving me closer and closer to the edge, I felt myself being drawn upward into the tree’s branches.

The world around me shifted, images of possible futures flickering like fireflies among the leaves. I saw Jean, his face intent as he questioned me about the meeting with Georgy. In this vision, I was in a stark room, my wrists bound to the arms of a metal chair. Jean’s voice was low and urgent as he pressed me for details.

“What exactly did they say about the power grid?” he demanded. “Every word, Mary. It could mean the difference between life and death for thousands.”

The scene shifted, and I saw myself being led down a long corridor, flanked by stern-faced men in dark suits. The Pretorian Guard, I realized with a jolt of fear. They were taking me to some hidden facility, far from Beaumont’s chateau.

But where was Camille? I searched the branching pathways of the future, desperate for a glimpse of my friend. When I finally found her, my heart sank. She was still here, in Beaumont’s chateau, being used by a guard, prostrate over a bolster on her little bed as the man astride her plowed her helplessly wet pussy brutally from behind.

I understood then, with crystal clarity, that I had to act. When Jean moved to extract me from the chateau, I had to make certain Camille came too.

As this realization washed over me, I felt myself being pulled back into my physical body. The sensations came rushing back—the stretch and burn of being filled so completely, the slap of flesh on flesh, the men’s harsh breathing in my ears.

My body was coiled tight, trembling on the edge of release. I knew that when I came, the vision would end. I had to hold on just a little longer, had to make absolutely certain of what I needed to do.

In that suspended moment, balanced between ecstasy and revelation, I made my decision. Somehow, when Jean questioned me, I had to give a reason why Camille would also be essential to the Guard. Our mission, and perhaps thousands of lives, depended on it.

The tension in my core reached its breaking point. As the first waves of my orgasm crashed over me, I clung to that certainty, letting it anchor me as I was swept away by pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

I screamed, my body convulsing between the two men. Beaumont and Georgy grunted in unison, their cocks pulsing inside me as they found their own release. For a moment, the world went white, pleasure obliterating everything else.

As I came back to myself, gasping and trembling, I clung to the knowledge I had gained in my vision. Find Camille. Find a way to keep us together.

I trembled as Beaumont’s and Georgy’s manhoods slipped out of me, leaving me feeling achingly empty. My thighs quivered, sticky with their combined release as it began to trickle from my well-used holes. The men’s harsh breathing filled the room, mingling with my own ragged gasps.

“Fetch the champagne, whore,” Beaumont commanded, his voice rough. “It’s time to celebrate our new partnership.”

On shaky legs, I pushed myself up from the couch. My entire body ached, a deep soreness settling into my muscles. As I moved across the room to the ornate bar cart, I could feel their eyes on me, appraising my naked form like a prized possession.

The champagne bottle was already chilling in an ice bucket. My fingers trembled as I wrapped them around the cold neck, condensation beading on the green glass. I carefully maneuvered the heavy magnum back to where the men lounged, along with two crystal flutes that caught the light filtering through the study’s tall windows.

“On your hands and knees,” Georgy instructed, a cruel smile playing at his lips. “You’ll serve as our table, little one.”

Swallowing hard against the lump in my throat, I sank to the plush carpet. The fibers tickled my sensitized skin as I positioned myself between them, my back forming a bridge. Beaumont took the bottle from my hands, the loud pop of the cork making me flinch. The effervescent liquid fizzed as he poured, the scent of expensive champagne filling the air.

“To a most profitable venture,” Beaumont toasted.

“And to the downfall of our enemies,” Georgy added, his glass clinking with my owner’s somewhere above me.

Then I felt them place the nearly full flutes carefully on the small of my back. The cold crystal made me shiver and the weight of the glasses pressed into my spine. I tried to focus on keeping perfectly still. One wrong move and I’d spill their drinks, surely earning a harsh punishment.

As the men sat back down on the couch where they’d just fucked me, they began to discuss their plans in more detail. I strained to catch every word, knowing how vital this information could be.

“Selecta’s influence over the European energy markets has become problematic,” Beaumont mused, picking up a glass of the champagne and taking a sip. “Their control over key infrastructure gives them far too much leverage.”

Georgy grunted in agreement. “Which is precisely why our little project is so crucial. Once we implement the virus in their control systems, we’ll be able to manipulate power flow across the entire region.”

My heart raced at his words. A computer virus? The implications seemed staggering, if I understood the stakes correctly. With control over Selecta’s systems, couldn’t these men plunge entire cities into darkness, or worse?

“Tell me more about this virus,” Beaumont pressed, excitement evident in his voice. “How soon can we deploy it?”

As I knelt there, my back straining to support the weight of the champagne flutes, I found that I could listen to Beaumont and Georgy’s conversation with an intensity that surprised me given the humiliating distractions of the scene. My strange sexual training as avölvaseemed to have sharpened my senses, allowing me to focus on their words even as my body ached from their earlier use.

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