Page 3 of Last Thrall of Asgard

Thorsten chuckled, low and menacing. With him only using his fingers, it felt like the edge was always out of reach. Relief was a mirage, right within my grasp if only I believed a little harder, was patient a little longer, but then it was gone, vanishing like smoke, and leaving me desperate for reprieve.

“P-p-plea—”

On my thousandth appeal, Thorsten retracted his fingers. He had me shaking just like he’d wanted.

I whimpered, but I didn’t beg. I would not beg. Not again.

I waited.

“Good boy, Oli,” Thorsten said. “So good for your master.”

He aligned his cock and drove it inside me with a slam.

The heavens opened—or might as well have—but it was only the sun breaking through a sky full of clouds.

Finally.

Thorsten thrusted inside me hard and deep, lifting me from the altar completely with the force of his pumps, so that only my back against the tree offered leverage. The depth and friction made my insides feel full. Hot. Whole. In that moment, I almost,almostfelt free.

I wasn't. And I never would be. The best I could hope for in life was exactly what I had and only that. The mindlessness of having Thorsten take me was as close to free as I'd ever know.

Thorsten’s shadow loomed, blocking the newly unleashed sun. He might be my master, but I had him just as captive as he fucked me, looking down at my writhing like nothing else in all of Midgard could sate him. That made me feel freer too, because it was power, however feeble and fleeting. This was the only power I had over my life, the only time I commanded another in a way they couldn't resist.

Until he pulled out.

Thorsten withdrew his cock just before he came, spun me on the altar so I laid sideways upon it, and released his seed on my lips. I lapped it up, licking and swallowing every drop. He would feed it to me if I didn’t, but I loved that taste. I loved knowing I made it happen. I made him come. I had some power here… didn’t I? One small modicum of control that allowed me to affectsomethingin my life.

But making him want me, making him come, was where my power stopped.

Thorsten brought me his hand to have me lick what had caught on his fingers. I did, lying like a lamb for slaughter, an offering to the gods, naked and still hard. Thorsten made no move to aid me, and if I touched myself without permission, he’d tie my hands behind my back with my belt and leave me here until sundown. He had done so twice before, and only the second time had I managed to rub out my stolen orgasm by humping the altar.

I’d told myself I loved that too, the denial, the ache, because when Thorsten came back for me, he’d sucked my cock and let me spill down his throat. That was something. That was mine. The hours of solitude had been nice too.

But today, I had no desire to be left waiting, so I remained patient, hoping that Thorsten would show mercy.

“Go on,” he said. “Touch yourself. Make yourself come for me. Slowly.”

Slowlymade my legs quiver as they dangled off the altar. My stomach clenched with the effort to keep from coming at the first touch. The curl of my fingers around my shaft. The temptation to run my thumb over my slit. But no. No. If I did that, I would come for certain, and if Thorsten wanted it slow, I had to keep drawing this out until he told me I could finish.

“Slower.”

I moaned, dropping my head back to dangle from the altar like my legs, and did as I was told.

“Look at me, Oli.”

I tilted my upside-down perspective to face him. He was stroking his spent cock too, stirring it back to life, while watching me stroke mine.

I had some control. I did. Because I had his attention. Because he wanted me. Because he liked watching me. I slowed my strokes further without being prompted and let more whimpers and whines spill from my lips—as if pleading, as if in agony. It was half true. I wanted to come so badly.Let Thorsten be so entranced by me that he allows me to, I almost prayed.

I dared to pass my thumb over my slit, and the instant need to come made me bite my lip like I might pierce through the skin. Thorsten was fully hard again, stroking faster, lightning fast compared to me. I parted my thighs enough to reach with my other hand down to my entrance. I knew what he needed to hear to grant me what I wanted.

“I wish it was stuffed with your come,” I said.

Thorsten seized me, spinning me back the way I’d been, propped against the tree, and slammed back inside me. I tookthat for the permission I needed and stroked as fast as his hips rammed into me.

Let me come.Let me come.

Thorsten slapped my hand away, and I practically screamed.

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