Page 64 of Her Viking Master

“Beautiful,” Beaumont murmured as our streams finally tapered off. “Now, Mary, get on your knees. I want you to wash Camille’s cunt thoroughly, and then give it a nice, reverent kiss.”

My legs shook as I sank to my knees, the hard tile uncomfortable even through the water. I looked up at Camille, silently apologizing with my eyes as I reached for the soap.

Gently, I began to wash between Camille’s legs, trying to be as clinical as possible. But as my fingers slid over her soft folds, I couldn’t help but notice how smooth and warm she felt. I heard Camille’s breath hitch, and I knew she must be fighting the same battle against unwanted arousal that I was.

Once I’d rinsed away all traces of soap, I leaned forward, my heart pounding, and pressed my lips to Camille’s sex. The taste of her, clean from the shower, but with an underlying muskiness, filled my senses. I heard her sharp intake of breath above me and felt a tremor run through her body.

“Good girl,” Beaumont purred. “Now, fetch a razor from the rack over there. It’s time to make that pretty cunt nice and smooth.”

With shaking legs, I stood and retrieved a plastic razor from a rack in the corner of the stall. Its light material notwithstanding, it felt heavy in my hand. Turning back to Camille, I saw her forehead furrow deeply. I tried to convey reassurance with my gaze, silently promising to be gentle.

“Turn around and bend over,” Beaumont instructed Camille. “I want to see that tight little asshole while Mary shaves you.”

Camille obeyed, turning to face the shower wall and bending at the waist. Confronted by all her pink secrets, I swallowed hard, fighting against the confusing mix of arousal and shame that threatened to overwhelm me.

Kneeling behind my friend, I began to carefully shave her pussy. The razor glided smoothly over her skin, removing the stubble and leaving soft, bare flesh beneath. I was surprised at how easy it was to pretend I’d never done this before. The ritual nature of our previous shaving session, underMorAstrid’s careful gaze, seemed a world away from this opulent, tawdry atmosphere.

Camille’s breath hitched every time the razor passed over a particularly sensitive spot. Her thighs trembled slightly, and I saw goosebumps rise on her skin despite the warm water still cascading over us.

“Make sure you get every last hair,” Beaumont commanded. “Between her ass cheeks, too. I want her cunt and asshole nice and smooth for my cock.”

I focused intently on my task, determined not to nick Camille’s delicate skin. The sheer intimacy of the act, combined with Beaumont’s leering presence, made me want to sink through the shower’s tile floor. My body’s helpless excitement at the shame only made it that much worse.

Beaumont spoke again. “Now, wash her asshole thoroughly. I want to see you really get in there with your fingers. Then kiss it.”

My stomach clenched at his words, but I knew better than to hesitate. Gently, I spread Camille’s cheeks, exposing her puckered entrance. I heard her whimper softly as I began to wash her, my fingers circling the tight ring of muscle.

The act felt so much more invasive than when we’d done it in the Sons of Odin’s bathing chamber, or even at the farm where Sven and Erik had filmed us. We had done it for the masters who had taught us so much in so short a time. Here, under Beaumont’s hungry gaze, it brought a level of humiliation I hadn’t even guessed at.

I leaned in, my face burning with shame, and pressed my lips to Camille’s freshly washed anus. The taste was clean, but the act itself felt so utterly degrading that tears sprang to my eyes. I heard Camille’s sharp intake of breath and felt her body tense beneath my touch.

“Excellent,” Beaumont purred. “Now switch places. Camille, it’s your turn to tend to Mary’s hygiene.”

My legs trembled as I stood, trading places with Camille. Cheeks burning anew, I bent over, exposing myself completely to my friend and our tormentor. I pressed my forehead against the shower wall, trying to steady my racing heart.

Camille’s touch was gentle as she began to wash my pussy, her fingers moving with careful precision. The clinical nature of her actions didn’t stop the way my body responded. Each brush of her fingertips sent little sparks of sensation through me, making my breath catch in my throat.

When she finished washing, I felt her hesitate for just a moment before pressing a soft kiss to my sex. The touch of her lips was feather-light, but it sent a jolt of electricity through my entire body. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, horrified by my body’s betrayal.

“Now shave her,” Beaumont commanded, his voice thick with lust.

I heard the soft scrape of the razor as Camille began to remove the stubble from my pussy. The sensation was oddly soothing, a counterpoint to the turmoil of emotions swirling within me. I focused on the sound of the water, on the feeling of it cascading down my back, trying to distance myself from the humiliation of the moment.

“Make sure you get every last hair,” Beaumont growled. “I want that cunt as smooth as silk.”

Camille’s movements became more meticulous, the razor gliding carefully over every curve and fold of my sex. I could feel her breath, warm against my sensitive skin, and it made me shiver despite the heat of the shower.

“Now her asshole,” Beaumont ordered. “Shave her there, then wash it thoroughly.”

I tensed as I felt Camille spread my cheeks, exposing my most private area to her gaze and touch. Her fingers were slick with soap as she circled my anus, cleaning it with a gentleness that made my heart ache. I felt the razor moving, and I bit my lip at the forbidden sensation. I wanted to tell her it was okay, that she didn’t need to be so careful, but I didn’t dare speak.

“Kiss it,” came Beaumont’s command.

I felt Camille’s lips press against my anus, soft and warm. The sensation was so intimate, so forbidden, that I couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped me. I heard Beaumont chuckle darkly behind us.

“Alright. You may get out of the shower and dry each other off.”

Camille and I stepped out of the shower, our bodies still trembling from the humiliating intimacies we had just shared. My cheeks burned with shame as I took a fluffy towel from her trembling hands and began to dry her off. Her skin was cool to the touch, and goosebumps prickled along her arms even in the warm room.

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