Page 38 of Her Viking Master

I could see that Mary had truly gone to Yggdrasil, as the Sons of Odin called it—that state of mind-altered submission our bed thralls could reach with the help of our strong hands, our punishing straps, and our thrustingpik. The state that raised them fromkneppetøjtovölur—from fuck toys into prophetesses.

I felt a pang of envy, even in the midst of the extraordinary pleasure her sweet body gave me, for that state we warriors knew so much about, but could never feel—at least as far as our lore told us, and I had never had reason to doubt it. We could fuck our cherished girls to the world tree, but we couldn’t go there ourselves in the same mystical way. What thevölurtold us when they returned from their particular Norse version of subspace, of the Aesir and the Vanir, of Asgard and Nifelheim—of the past, the present, and the future… all of it transcended any physical sight, or rational cognition.

I cradled my lovely girl’s head in my hands and I thrust between her lips, glistening with my pre-cum and her saliva. I hit the back of her throat with each inward movement of my iron-hard cock. The lewd sight of my rigid manhood driving deep into her mouth, along with the velvet sensation of her submitting in that shameful way, sent waves of delight through my nervous system so intense that I found it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand—choosing the two operatives who would undertake the coming mission.

“That’s it,lille en,” I murmured, almost unconsciously. “Go… don’t be afraid. Go to the tree.”

Mary let out a sob around my thrustingpik. Her hips bucked over the bride saddle and then her whole body shuddered as she found the little knob and ground her clit against it. Around me I heard similar growled words, similar needy whimpers, as my brothers edged their own girls.

Behind me,MorAstrid called out her own praise, her voice rising with an authority that still held a note of tenderness.

“You do well,völur,” she said. “You give pleasure to yourHerra. And you, Sons of Odin, you fuck them well.”

Like all theMorwho aided the Sons of Odin, Astrid was an extraordinary woman. She had begun, of course, as a bed thrall like the one whose mouth I enjoyed here over the bride saddle. She had brought back great prophecies from the world tree—but she had also served as one of the first operatives trained to use the new world of information technology available to the Sons of Odin at the close of the twentieth century.

As the bed thrall of my father Cnut, Astrid had borne a daughter, Greta. Last year, Greta had become the head of a major European intelligence agency. After raising Greta to university age, Astrid had become aMor—the firstMorto find, in the knowledge we had gained from studying the Institute, a way to advance both our pleasures and our capacity to influence global events.

Her words to us confirming that we were fucking our girls well represented a code of sorts. Astrid had conveyed to me important information from the data stream she was observing, coming from the surprisingly sophisticated technology in the bride saddles our bed thralls rode.

All the girls are on their way to Yggdrasil, Astrid had told me.You may proceed.

The beauty of the testing ride—especially the first time the newvölurunderwent it—lay in the bed thralls not having any control over the outcome or real knowledge as to what we meant to determine about their abilities. On this initial ride, the girls ventured out into the unknown. Between our powers of skilled observation and Astrid’s analysis of the data, we could see how they responded to their bodies’ needs and their minds’ grasp of the imaginary places their submission took them.

Mary thought her purpose, bound to the bride saddle, was to give her master pleasure. Her response to the other things that happened in her heart, her mind, and her body, though, would tell me whether she belonged on this mission.

At our warriors’ council just before we had come into the training hall, the Sons of Odin had come to a quick consensus that Sophie and Amélie represented the clear choice. Their embrace of their new life as sexual servants and operatives meant we could rely on them in the field.

We had tagged Yvette and Fleur as analysts from the start; their quieter intellects would take beautifully to the cerebral work once they had settled. Erik’s Camille and my Mary represented potential that might take weeks or months to develop. Camille’s tendency to willful rebellion and Mary’s ability to weigh costs and benefits especially meant they could prove extremely valuable as field operatives, but we agreed that they needed time to process their having become warriors’ bed thralls.

This testing ride, then, would in all likelihood merely confirm those foregone conclusions. As I pulled my rock-hard penis, glistening with Mary’s saliva, from between her lips, though, and stroked her cheek with my thumb, the look in her eyes made me wonder.

In that wide-eyed green gaze, did I see something more than I had expected? Not just wonder, but understanding and judgment? I had enjoyed several bed thralls before in my years as a full Son of Odin, and I had seen that look in the eyes of some of them, but only after months of learning and service.

Perhaps this trial would have a different result from what I expected. A warmth came into my chest, of affection and of frank jealousy. The possibility that my ownvölvawould have to depart on this dangerous mission took on a bit of troubling substance.

“We will fuck theirfissenow,” I announced to my brothers. “Ride hard and well, warriors!”

* * *

Mary

I couldn’t help it. I rode the saddle lewdly as Sven walked around to my rear. My hips moved of their own accord, grinding my clit against the secret leather-covered knob as I watched the other Sons of Odin do as theirOverherradid. Each moved behind his girl and prepared to enter her. The sight of those powerful men positioning themselves, their rigid manhoods glistening, combined with the delicious friction against my moving pussy, nearly made me come, though I felt sure I would pay a terrible penalty if I did.

I felt Sven’s large hands grip my hips, holding me still. The blunt head of his massive cock pressed against the slick opening to my aching sheath, and I whimpered in anticipation. Without further warning, he thrust in hard, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful stroke. I cried out, overwhelmed by the sudden fullness, the exquisite stretch of my pussy around his thick shaft.

My eyes fluttered, and I couldn’t decide whether to keep them open or closed. If I closed them, I could focus entirely on the sensations—the way Sven’s cock filled me so completely, the slight burn as my body adjusted to his size, the delicious pressure of the saddle against my clit. But if I kept them open, I could watch the other girls being claimed just as thoroughly, could see the expressions of ecstasy on their faces as their masters took them.

In the end, I couldn’t bear to look away. I watched as Erik gripped Camille’s hips, driving into her with powerful thrusts that made her cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Sophie’s face was a mask of bliss as Aksel fucked her, her lithe body arching to meet each of his strokes. Amélie whimpered and moaned as Henrik pounded into her, her hands clenching and unclenching where they were bound to the saddle.

The sight of their submission, coupled with my own, sent me spiraling higher. Sven’s cock stretched me so perfectly, hitting spots deep inside with each movement of his thick shaft. Every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through my body, building and building until I felt I might shatter from the intensity.

“That’s it,lille en,” Sven growled behind me, his voice thick with lust. “Take yourHerra’spik. Work that sweet cunt.”

His words spurred me on, and I began to move my hips in counterpoint to his thrusts, taking him even deeper. The new angles brought new sensations, and I cried out wordlessly, lost in ecstasy.

Suddenly, that strange but increasingly familiar feeling again washed over me. The physical realities—Sven’s cock pounding into me, the saddle rubbing against my clit—seemed to fade into the background. In their place, I heard a rushing wind and I felt as though I was expanding, my consciousness stretching out beyond the confines of my body, back to the world tree I had glimpsed when Sven had used my mouth.

The flashes of other times and other places came even more clearly: the ships, the sea, the cities, the farms… caverns… gatherings of people and clashes of arms…

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