Page 92 of Her Viking Master

Marmareus inclined his head in acknowledgment, satisfaction evident in the slight curve of his lips. “Nymphobi,” he said, his eyes looking past us at the huge men who waited behind our benches, “yours is the privilege to begin. Let us see you fuck theseColumbaewell, and make themNuptaeindeed.”

CHAPTER47

Mary

I felt the big man behind me place a hand on my belt, his massive fingers curling around the leather with possessive confidence. The restraint, which had felt so alien when first fastened around my waist, now seemed to burn against my skin, like an emotional, as well as a physical, reinforcement of my role in this terrible ritual.

“I amNymphobusLucius,” he announced, his deep voice resonating through the chamber like distant thunder. “I thank you, brothers in power, for the loan of this cunt.”

A moan escaped my lips before I could suppress it as I felt Lucius position the head of his cock at the entrance to my vagina. The blunt pressure against my sensitized flesh sent shivers racing along my spine. Cassandra’s ministrations had left me wet and ready, my body’s natural response to stimulation regardless of what my mind might prefer.

I turned my head as much as the restraints would allow, seeking reassurance in Camille’s presence beside me. What I saw made my breath catch in my throat. The otherNymphobusstood behind Camille, positioning his enormous manhood at the entrance to her pussy. His free hand gripped her belt in the same proprietary manner as Lucius held mine, his massive frame dwarfing her bound form.

“I amNymphobusBrutus,” he intoned, his voice a perfect echo of his companion’s. “I thank you, brothers in power, for the loan of this cunt.”

I watched, transfixed, as Brutus pressed the head of his cock just inside Camille’s entrance. Her face contorted in a mixture of discomfort and unwilling pleasure, her dark eyes wide with the same conflicted emotions that churned within me. In that moment, our gazes met across the small space separating our benches, and I felt a surge of solidarity with my sistervölva. We had remained together, through all of this; that counted for something, in our own eyes, at least—and perhaps even in the eyes of our masters.

Brutus looked over at Lucius, their eyes meeting in silent communication. I recognized the look—they were timing their first thrusts, coordinating their use of our bodies as if we were instruments to be played in unison. I felt Lucius’ hand tighten on my belt, his grip becoming an anchor point, a fulcrum against which he would leverage his penetration. At the same moment, I saw Brutus do the same to Camille’s belt, his massive fingers digging into the leather.

Then, as I watched Brutus thrust his hardness inside Camille, I felt Lucius do the same to me. Both Camille and I cried out, the sudden, complete invasion of our bodies drawing the sounds from our throats without our intention. TheNymphobi, both hands on our belts now, held themselves in at full length, their cocks buried fully inside our wet sheaths.

“Are they tight?” Marmareus asked, as if the question were part of a ritual. His voice carried across the chamber with the weight of ancient tradition, the formal inquiry seeming to transform the raw obscenity of the scene into something sacred.

“Tight indeed,” Lucius replied, his massive body perfectly still as he savored the sensation of my inner walls gripping his rigid penis. “This cunt is a gift from heaven on my manhood.”

I felt my face flame with humiliation at being discussed so crudely while my body was impaled on a stranger’s cock. The leather restraints creaked as I shifted slightly, trying to adjust to the overwhelming fullness stretching me from within.

“The same,” Brutus said about Camille, his voice a rumbling bass that seemed to vibrate through the stone floor beneath us. “A gift from heaven, indeed.”

I glanced at Camille, saw her eyes squeezed shut, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she processed the same invasion I was experiencing. The bench beneath her trembled slightly with the force of Brutus’ grip on her belt.

“Ride them hard, then,” Marmareus commanded, his tone shifting from ritualistic to imperious. “TheseColumbaemust learn the ways of civilized men.”

As Lucius began to move within me, I turned my gaze toward Sven, desperate for some connection, some reminder that I belonged to him despite what was happening to my body. What I saw in his ice-blue gaze made my breath catch in my throat.

There it was again—his permission, explicit and absolute, to find pleasure in the satisfaction of my most forbidden needs. More than that, I saw the pleasure he took in watching me used by another man, a man with whom he had deliberately shared me. The knowledge sent a new flash of confused arousal washing through me, making my inner walls clench involuntarily around Lucius’ invading hardness.

My pussy was already sore from the diabolical saddle Marmareus had forced me to ride in my cell, the hours of stimulation having left my most sensitive flesh tender and overly receptive. Yet even amid the discomfort I found myself quickly approaching the edge of climax as Lucius established a steady, powerful rhythm.

Each thrust drove me forward against the restraints before the grip on my belt yanked me back to meet the next penetration. The dual sensations of being pushed and pulled, of being completely controlled in my movements, intensified the building pleasure in my core.

I tried to focus on Sven’s face, on maintaining that tenuous connection across the chamber, but the mounting tension in my body made concentration increasingly difficult. My vision blurred as Lucius found a particularly sensitive spot deep inside me, the head of his cock pressing against it with unerring accuracy.

It was only as my body trembled on the precipice of release that I realized the true extent of theNymphobi’s skill. Just as the first delicious waves of orgasm began to build, Lucius altered his rhythm, slowing his thrusts to a maddeningly deliberate pace. The change was so subtle, so expertly timed, that I might not have noticed had I not been so desperately focused on what was happening to my body.

“No,” I whimpered, my voice small and desperate in the vast chamber. “Please…”

Beside me, Camille let out a similar sound of frustration, her body tensing against her restraints as Brutus denied her her own climax with an equally masterful change in tempo. The synchronicity of their movements was uncanny, as if they shared a single consciousness divided between two powerful bodies.

Lucius leaned forward, his breath hot against my ear. “Not yet, littleColumba,” he whispered, the words for me alone. “TheLeohas not given permission.”

I sobbed as understanding crashed over me like an icy wave. This wasn’t merely about physical domination—it was about controlling my consciousness. Every time Lucius yanked me back from the edge of climax, I could feel my journey to Yggdrasil reversing, the mystical pathways closing before I could traverse them. The branches of the world tree, which had seemed so tantalizingly close moments before, now receded into the distance of my consciousness.

It was the same problem I’d encountered on the saddle in my cell, but inverted. Where too many orgasms had scattered my vision, making it impossible to focus on any single branch of possible futures, now the deliberate denial of release prevented me from reaching the tree at all. Myvölvasenses fluttered uselessly at the edges of my awareness, like a bird with clipped wings attempting flight.

“Please,” I gasped again, no longer certain who I was begging—Lucius, Marmareus, or Sven himself. “I need to… I have to…”

But Lucius only chuckled, a dark sound of satisfaction as he continued his relentless rhythm, bringing me to the edge only to deny me at the crucial moment. My body burned with unfulfilled need, sweat slicking my skin as I strained against the leather restraints. The metal rings securing my cuffs to the bench jangled with my efforts, a counterpoint to the wet sounds of penetration and the harsh breathing that filled the chamber.

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