Page 88 of Her Viking Master

The first lash fell across my shoulders, the knotted tails of themastixfinding every nerve ending with unerring precision. I cried out, unable to contain the sound as fire erupted across my skin. The pain was clean, honest, delivered by the hand that owned me truly.

The second stroke landed lower, across my shoulder blades, crossing the fading welts left by Marmareus earlier. I felt the difference immediately—where his punishment had been clinical, designed to break down resistance, Sven’s carried an intimate knowledge of my body, my responses, my limits.

The third and fourth lashes fell in quick succession, crisscrossing my upper back, drawing gasps and sobs from my throat. Tears streamed down my face now, but they weren’t tears of shame or despair. They were tears of recognition, of homecoming, of the paradoxical relief that came from being truly seen, truly known.

The fifth stroke landed across the fullest part of my bottom, reigniting the welts left by Marmareus’ earlier punishment. I screamed, sure that at least this violation of the Guard’s rule would prove acceptable to these hard men.

The sixth and final stroke was the harshest yet, the knotted tails of themastixfinding the tender junction where my bottom met my thighs. I howled, my back arching, my body convulsing with the intensity of the pain. But beneath that pain, like a current of molten gold running through base metal, was something else—something profound and intimate that belonged only to Sven and me.

As the initial shock of the final lash faded into a throbbing heat, I felt it—the reconnection, the reestablishment of the bond that had been strained, but never broken. Myvölvasense opened like a third eye, and I perceived Sven not just with my physical senses, but with something deeper, more primal. I felt his essence reaching for mine across the gulf that separated us, his dominance wrapping around me like invisible bonds far more powerful than the leather restraints that adorned my body.

My breathing came in ragged gasps as I struggled to compose myself. I could feel the welts rising on my skin, my flesh remembering the shape of themastix, the weight of Sven’s hand. The pain had begun to transform itself already, melting into the familiar warm glow that I had come to associate with my master’s discipline. My pussy throbbed with shameful arousal, my nipples hard and aching even through the humiliation of being punished before these strange men.

“Thank you, Sven,” Marmareus said to Sven, his voice carrying a note of genuine respect. “You are indeed a skilled tamer of your bed thralls. Such mastery of themastixis rare, even among those steeped in our traditions. You maintain order and civilization with skill and precision.”

I remained kneeling, head bowed, hands still raised above me though Sven had released his grip on my wrists. I could feel sweat trickling down my spine, mingling with the welts left by themastix, creating a stinging sensation that kept me acutely present in my body despite the dreamy aftermath of punishment.

“The discipline and use of women is the foundation of civilization,” Sven replied, his voice carrying the perfect blend of authority and philosophical detachment. If I hadn’t known him so intimately, I might have believed him truly one of them. “Without it, chaos reigns.”

“Indeed,” Marmareus agreed. “Which brings us to the matter at hand.” He turned his attention to Camille and me, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight. “TheseColumbaehave shown promise, notwithstanding their… unconventional recruitment. The time has come for them to advance in their training, to be initiated asNuptae.”

Nuptae—like Cassandra and Viola. A new rank in the confusing labyrinth of the Guard’s hierarchy. I glanced at Camille, seeing my own confusion mirrored in her wide eyes. We had seen howNuptaemoved, how they spoke, their apparently perfect obedience.

“It is important,” Erik said suddenly, his voice carrying across the Hall of Fire, addressing Camille directly, “that you accept this initiation without knowing what it will involve or what it means.”

The unexpected statement made me catch my breath. Erik’s words seemed loaded with hidden meaning, his gaze intense as it flickered between Camille and me. Like Sven, he wore the ceremonial robe with a disturbing naturalness, as if he had been born to it rather than donning it as some sort of courtesy extended by the Pretorian Guard.

“Nod if you accept initiation,” Marmareus commanded, his tone severe.

I lifted my gaze to Sven’s face, searching desperately for some clue, some guidance. His expression remained utterly unreadable, a perfect mask of stern authority. For a heartbeat, I wondered if Sven knew howLeoMarmareus had affected me, how deeply the enemy agent’s dominance had penetrated not just my body, but my psyche. Did he sense my shame, my fear that in moments of weakness—pinned beneath Marmareus’ powerful body, strapped to that diabolical saddle—I might have betrayed him? Could he see the conflicted tangle of emotions that threatened to choke me: loyalty to him warring with the undeniable responses Marmareus had wrung from my trembling flesh?

Silently, almost imperceptibly, I nodded my acceptance. Beside me, Camille did the same, her dark eyes wide with fear yet resolute. Whatever awaited us asNuptae, we would face it together, twovölurbound by circumstance and shared suffering.

“Excellent,” Marmareus said, satisfaction evident in his voice. “Nuptae, lead theseColumbaeto the Hall of Mithras.”

Cassandra rose and tugged gently on my leash, while Viola did the same to Camille’s. We rose from our kneeling positions, our naked bodies gleaming with sweat in the firelight, the leather restraints creaking softly with each movement. I felt Sven’s gaze on me, heavy and intense, as I stood. The welts from his punishment made my eyes water, reminding me, in a way I welcomed despite the wince, of his reclamation of my flesh.

TheNuptaeturned us away from the men and began leading us forward, deeper into the Hall of Fire. I realized with growing apprehension that they were guiding us directly toward the abyssal pit at the center of the chamber, toward the dancing flames that rose from its unfathomable depths. My steps faltered as we drew closer, fear clutching at my throat with icy fingers.

“Keep moving,” Cassandra murmured, her voice barely audible above the soft crackling of the flames. “Trust the ritual.”

Trust the ritual. The words echoed in my mind, resonating with myvölvatraining. Ritual was the backbone of all magical practice, the structure that allowed raw power to be channeled and directed—even if the magic came not from some supernatural plane but from our own human consciousness. But whose ritual was this? To what purpose would it bend my power, my very being?

As we approached the edge of the pit, the flames suddenly surged upward, a great wall of fire that towered above us, throwing a wave of heat so intense I instinctively raised my hands to shield my face. The roar was deafening, drowning out all other sounds, filling the chamber with its primal voice. Sweat poured down my body, my skin flushing scarlet in the intense heat.

“Stay where you are,” Cassandra commanded as I tried to step back from the inferno.

I froze, trembling, certain that at any moment the flames would engulf us, would consume our naked flesh and reduce us to ash. The heat felt nearly unbearable, making each breath a struggle.

From behind us, I heardLeoMarmareus’ voice rise above the noise of the flames in the pit.

“As you can see, my new friends, energy, and power in every sense, has lain at the heart of our project from the beginning.”

CHAPTER45

Mary

I stood at the edge of the fiery abyss, my heart hammering against my ribs, terror freezing my blood even as the heat of the flames scorched my naked skin. Were they going to throw us in? Was this how the Pretorian Guard disposed of those who had outlived their usefulness? I glanced desperately at Camille beside me, saw my own fear reflected in her wide eyes. The leashes attached to our collars hung taut in the hands of theNuptae, the only things preventing us from backing away from the inferno that roared before us.

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