Page 4 of Her Viking Master

Her voice cracked with fear and shame. I could almost feel her terror, mirroring my own. The man’s response was swift and merciless.

“You’ll do as you’re told, girl, or you’ll feel the bite of the whip. Your modesty means nothing here. Strip. Now.”

I heard a choked sob, then the rustle of fabric. My imagination painted a vivid picture of the scene—a terrified young woman, probably no older than me, forced to expose herself to these strange, dangerous men. I trembled, terrified I would soon face the same fate.

Suddenly, I felt Sven’s hands on my shoulders, firmly planting me on my feet. The world spun for a moment as I struggled to find my balance after being carried for so long. As I steadied myself, I became more acutely aware of the presence of the other young women around me. I could feel the warmth radiating from nearby bodies, hear the soft sounds of breathing and muffled whimpers.

Without warning, Sven’s hands moved to my head. In one swift motion, he yanked the hood off. The sudden influx of light, though dim, was blinding. I blinked rapidly, my eyes watering as they struggled to adjust. I felt his strong hands behind me, loosening the rope that bound my hands. Then he deftly untied the leather gag and pulled it from between my teeth.

As my vision cleared, I found myself standing in what appeared to be a makeshift corral. Thick ropes, the kind you might find on a ship, formed a circular enclosure around us, suspended from wooden posts. The space beyond was shadowy, but I could make out the vague outlines of stone walls. We seemed to be in some sort of underground chamber or cavern.

The sight within the corral shocked me. Five other young women stood there, looking just as terrified and confused as I felt. Four of them were already completely naked, their arms crossed futilely over their bodies in a desperate attempt at modesty. The fifth—a petite brunette with tear-streaked cheeks—was in the process of removing her bra, her fingers trembling as she fumbled with the clasp.

I couldn’t help but stare, my face burning with a mixture of shame and unwanted arousal. These women were beautiful, their bodies pale and vulnerable in the dim light. I saw the goosebumps on their skin, the way their nipples had hardened in the cool air. My gaze was drawn to the triangles of hair between their thighs, though my face got very hot at the naughty sight.

I heard Sven’s voice, then, and I knew what he would say before he said it.

“Mary, you too. Like your new sisters. Everything off.”

CHAPTER3

Mary

I turned to face Sven, hoping against hope that I would see some flicker of mercy in his eyes. When I met his gaze, though, I found only stern determination. His jaw was set, his steel-blue eyes hard and unyielding. He bore only a passing resemblance to the charming professor who had captivated me with his lectures. I saw a warrior, a conqueror, a man accustomed to being obeyed without question.

“I won’t tell you again, Mary,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Strip. Now.”

My hands shook as I reached for the buttons of the cute blue blouse I had worn with the vague thought of seducing him. My cheeks filled with heat at the very thought of my foolishness. My fingers fumbled, clumsy with fear and adrenaline. The fabric slid from my shoulders, pooling at my feet. I shivered in the subterranean air.

Around me, I could hear the other girls speaking in rapid French. Their voices were hushed, urgent, filled with fear and confusion.

“Does anyone know who these men are?” one asked, her voice trembling.

“Why have they taken us? What do they want?” another chimed in.

“I was just walking home from the library,” a third girl whimpered. “How did they find me?”

I strained to follow their conversation, but my French comprehension, while good enough for academic discussions, struggled to keep up with their rapid, emotional speech. I caught fragments, pieces of their terror and confusion that mirrored my own.

As I reached behind my back to unhook my bra, I heard one girl ask, “Are they going to kill us?”

The question sent a chill down my spine. I hadn’t even considered that possibility. My mind had been so focused on the immediate humiliation of stripping, on the confusing mix of fear and arousal, that I hadn’t thought about what might come after.

It’s just some twisted game, I told myself, swallowing hard.Plus, they’ve gone through so much trouble to bring us here… why would they harm us?

My bra fell away, and I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest. I could feel Sven’s eyes on me, appraising, hungry. I wanted to cover myself, to hide from his gaze, but his face—and the lingering pain in my backside—made clear that concealment wasn’t an option.

With trembling hands, I pushed down my skirt and panties in one motion, stepping out of them quickly. I stood there, utterly naked, feeling more exposed and vulnerable than I ever had in my life. The air felt thick around me, heavy with the scent of fear and an ancient, dark aroma I associated with the dungeons of medieval castles—the sensory indication of an unseen, underground world.

I heard gasps and whispers from the other girls. I realized they were looking at me, at my red hair—the hair that marked me as different, as exotic to them. I felt my face flush hot with shame, the blush spreading down my neck to my chest.

“Look at me, Mary,” Sven commanded.

Slowly, reluctantly, I looked up at him, my cheeks burning as his eyes roamed over my naked body. His gaze seemed hungry, possessive, making me feel like a piece of meat on display. Beneath the shame and fear, though, to my dismay, I felt again that forbidden thrill; something about being naked in front of him brought a stirring below my belly that I would much rather not have felt.

One of the other girls whispered something, too soft and too fast for me to understand.

“Silence!” Sven suddenly barked in French, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Unless you want to feel the bite of the whip, you will keep your mouths shut.”

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