Page 91 of Her Viking Master

I felt my heart skip a beat at his words as I remembered Sven and Erik in the van, then in the stable where they had filmed us, to make our arrival at Beaumont’s chateau look like simple sex trafficking. The Pretorian Guard had obviously followed that thread without discovering the Sons of Odin—so our masters did have at least that small advantage.

That thought, hard to follow in my body’s helpless response to Cassandra’s mouth and fingers between my thighs and bottom cheeks, confirmed my instincts. I needed to keep the specifics I had heard about the virus, in the meeting between Beaumont and Georgy, secret from the Guard—but to deliver it to Sven as soon as I could, so that myHerracould use the intelligence properly.

Cassandra’s fingers thrust deeper inside me, making me gasp and arch against the restraints. Her touch felt more expert, more knowing with each passing moment—finding sensitive spots within my vagina that made coherent thought increasingly difficult. I bit my lip, trying desperately to maintain some semblance of control as pleasure built relentlessly in my core.

That fleeting connection I’d felt with Sven—that precious moment of clarity when myvölvasense had opened between us—had slipped away like water through cupped hands. I felt bereft, adrift in a sea of conflicting sensations and obligations. The virus weighed heavily on my mind, a burden I couldn’t share, not here, not now, but one that might mean the difference between life and death for countless people.

“The Guard has been monitoringGSactivities for some time,” Marmareus continued, his voice maddeningly calm even with the obscene tableau playing out before him. “Beaumont’s operation is particularly concerning—his connections to certain Eastern European interests have raised red flags.”

My breath caught in my throat. He knew. Or at least, he suspected something about the meeting I’d witnessed. How much did the Pretorian Guard already know about Georgy and his plans? About the virus that could devastate an entire city?

Cassandra’s tongue circled my clit with renewed vigor, drawing an involuntary moan from my lips. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the building pressure at my core, the shameful pleasure that threatened to overwhelm my senses. The leather restraints creaked as I strained against them, my body responding to stimulation it didn’t want to need.

“Their activities suggest they’re planning something significant,” Erik observed, his voice carrying the perfect blend of casual interest and professional concern. “Something that could disrupt the… established order.”

I opened my eyes just in time to see Marmareus nod, his expression grave. “Indeed. Which is why your appearance—after your apparently having delivered these girls to Beaumont as mere fuck toys, and thus completed a profitable transaction—is so intriguing to us.”

My heart skipped a beat as Sven fixed his gaze on me again. Our eyes locked across the chamber, and in that moment, I felt something powerful pass between us—not thevölvasense, not the connection to Yggdrasil, but something more primal, more human. He was trying to give me confidence, trying to beam his own certainty into my soul.

In his eyes, I saw something that made my breath catch: absolute faith in me. My master’s complete conviction that I had the power to save the world, if I could only trust myself to take it and use it. The weight of that belief was both terrifying and exhilarating.

“Our interest,” Sven said carefully, his eyes never leaving mine, “is in maintaining a particular balance. One that has served humanity for millennia, whether most humans realize it or not.”

I gasped as Cassandra’s slender finger circled my anus, the intimate touch sending shockwaves of sensation through my already overwhelmed body. The unrelenting blush that had begun at my cheeks now spread down my neck and across my chest, setting my skin aflame with mortification. When her tongue followed, tracing the sensitive blossom with devastating precision, I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. The taboo nature of the act, combined with the knowledge that five powerful men were watching my humiliation, made the experience almost unbearably intense.

“I must repeat myself,” Marmareus said, his voice carrying easily across the chamber. “Your girls respond beautifully to pleasure. Mary especially.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying desperately to focus on anything but Cassandra’s intimate exploration of my most private opening. Her tongue circled, pressed, probed—gentle yet insistent, preparing me for what was to come. When she slipped the very tip of her finger inside, I couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped my throat.

“The Guard’s methods of civilizing young women,” Sven replied in a neutral, almost academic tone that belied the intensity of his gaze, “align with my own in many respects. The female form, properly disciplined and trained, becomes not just a vessel for pleasure, but a conduit for order itself.”

His words, so clinical and detached, somehow intensified my shame and arousal in equal measure. This was myHerraspeaking, the man who had awakened thevölvawithin me, who had shown me the branches of Yggdrasil. Yet he discussed my subjugation as if I were merely a theoretical concept, a philosophical principle rather than a woman of flesh and blood and need.

Cassandra pressed deeper, her finger breaching my tight ring of muscle with slow, inexorable pressure. The strange, burning stretch made me gasp, my body tensing automatically against the intrusion. Her other hand reached beneath me, finding my clit with unerring accuracy, circling it with slick fingertips as if to distract me from the violation happening behind.

“Relax,” she whispered, her breath hot against my sensitized flesh. “Yield to it. It will hurt less. I can tell you have been civilized before, but theseNymphobiare big, and rough.”

I tried to obey, forcing my muscles to unclench despite the instinctive resistance. The burning sensation gradually transformed into something else—not quite pleasure, not exactly pain, but a peculiar fullness that demanded my complete attention.

“I am certainly open to considering an agreement,” Sven continued, his voice steady and measured in the face of the obscene tableau before him. “Provided, of course, that the terms prove beneficial to my group and our long-term objectives.”

Cassandra withdrew her finger only to return with two, stretching me further, making me moan even amid my best efforts to remain silent. The leather restraints creaked as I pulled against them, my body caught between the conflicting impulses to escape and to push back for more.

“I must acknowledge,” Marmareus said, his voice carrying an undertone of formality that transformed the debauched scene into something ceremonial, “that I have used your sluts without your explicit permission.”

I felt my heart hammering against my ribs as Marmareus’ words hung in the air between them. Cassandra’s fingers remained inside me, stretching my anus with deliberate pressure, while her other hand continued its maddening circles around my clit. I balanced on a knife’s edge, between pleasure and discomfort, still trying to think as clearly as I could.

“To further our negotiation in the traditional way of the Guard,” Marmareus continued, his dark eyes moving from Sven to Erik and back again, “I would ask your consent to share your bed servants with us, for this initiation.”

The formal request sent a fresh wave of heat through my body. The significance of what he was asking wasn’t lost on me, though my compromised state made it rather ironic. This wasn’t merely about sex, about the use of our bodies for pleasure. This was political—a symbolic joining of forces, a mingling of power and authority, with Camille and me as the living embodiments of the agreement.

I watched through lust-hazed eyes as Sven’s gaze found mine yet again across the chamber. I saw there, renewed, his permission to enjoy what must happen next. My heart lifted, though my blush blazed anew, at the idea of myHerrabeing there, present, to share me personally and to watch me being fucked by strangers.

Sven turned to Marmareus, his expression solemn. “I consent to share my bed thrall with the Pretorian Guard for this initiation,” he said, each word measured and precise. “Mary belongs to me, but I grant you the privilege of using her body as you see fit.”

Beside him, Erik nodded, his gaze locked with Camille’s. “I consent as well,” he said. “Camille may serve the Guard’s pleasure for this ritual.”

A strange mixture of emotions washed over me—relief that Sven had maintained his cover, shame at being so casually offered to these men, and beneath it all, a perverse excitement that made my pussy clench around Cassandra’s probing fingers. My body betrayed me utterly, responding to the situation with an arousal that seemed to intensify with each passing moment.

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