“The savages are coming.” The warning was whispered through the village. There were no screams, no stampede. All fifty-three inhabitants of the cold, desolate land were afraid that if they made too much noise, the approaching savages would get excited and speed up their hunt. Lillith picked up the little girl that fell and returned her to her panicking mother. Seeing that they were on their way, Lillith picked up her skirts to run to an elder man and help him push his cart. He was too choked up with fear to thank her. It took two hushed minutes for the entire village to be wiped clean. The only hint that it was ever populated was the footprints in the muddy, cold, ground. Everyone took off into the woods, risking the dangers of four-legged wild animals to avoid the two-legged ones. “What are you doing, girl?” Silla, their healer, demanded. Like Lillith, she strayed behind to make sure everyone got out on time. It was one of the reasons Lillith considered her a second mother. She took care of wounds and prevented others. “Go, Silla. I must stay behind.” “Stop this nonsense! Take your coat and follow me.” “Someone needs to slow them down. You know that, Silla. It has to be me” The older woman tried to tug her away, but Lillith stood tall. “Go,” she insisted. Silla took one last look at the longships that were quickly approaching the shore. She pulled Lillith into a tight embrace and then ran off after her people. Finally, the village was deserted. Lillith walked into her cottage and picked up her bow and arrow. Then, she fought her skirts to climb a tree. Her brown dress cloaked well with the bark. The savages would never see her coming. She clutched her poison-tipped arrows and waited. The longships thudded into the shores. Heavy footsteps and the sling of metal followed. There were dozens of them– vikings. They stomped through what remained of her village, looking to assault, murder, and pillage. It was easy to identify the leader. He was the broadest among them, and he wore scars and a bare chest although the winter was among them. Did he prefer the splattering of warm blood on his skin over wearing furs? Lillith supposed that it didn’t matter. She would kill him before she got to find out. Aligning the arrow and lifting the bow, she aimed. She took a deep breath. It has to be you. You who gets captured, tortured, and assaulted. As long as she slowed down the vikings and gave her people a chance to flee, it would be alright. Most of her people treated her well, besides her obscurities. Her skin was too tanned from the time she spent in the sun, face and chest dotted with unwanted freckles, hair uncontrollably curled. She wasn’t fair skinned or dainty like the other girls. Her hips were too wide, chest too swollen. At 5’9, she matched the height of average men, too. She was unmarried at twenty-four. No man wanted to marry another man, which is what everyone considered her to be. Most villagers didn’t say it, though. They allowed her to join her in hunting, taught her whatever arts she was interested in, and made her feel that although she wasn’t feminine, she was a human. None of the smaller girls would survive the savages. They would break their mind and bodies, but Lillith was stronger. Her body would handle their brutality, and her mind could quiet the sad and evil thoughts. She had plenty of practice of escaping to her ‘happy place’ over her 24 years of life. She exhaled. It has to be you. With the faces of the young maidens that escaped the village, she released the arrow. It flew, someone shouted, and the target jerked backward. No! The arrow missed, and men ran for the tree. She sent arrow after arrow, taking down three men, before they began to knock their heavy bodies into the tree. She clung on as best as she could, but the branch she was on snapped and sent her down. Her skirts fluttered around her, providing no cushion for when she landed on the brutal ground. She heard a few men gasp, but she refused to look up and find their straining erections. She would close her eyes through the whole thing, because she wouldn’t let them enjoy her pain. “Make way,” a man said in her tongue. It was accented, but it was clear. The crowd parted, and a hand the size of her face gripped her chin. It was him. The one who defied the cold. “Where are they?” he asked her. His breath was warm, so was his hand, but his eyes were as bitter as the wind. She pursed her lips and glared with all the hatred she could muster. She was an orphan, and an ugly, unwanted girl, but she was loved by her village. She would be brave for them. “Take her to the ships.” “You don’t mean to make her a thrall, do you, Jarl? She killed one and injured two.” The jarl ignored the question. “Split up and plunder what you can. We leave at sunset.” Lillith nearly cried with relief. They weren’t going to scout the woods for villagers. They would survive. Her peace was doused when two burly men grabbed her by the arms and hauled her toward the sea. The footsteps on the mud, the last reminder of her village, were destroyed by her drag marks. Her brown dress became black. It was made by the wife of the blacksmith. Lilith never got to give her coins, but at least she got to pay with blood. The sand under her boots became wood. The ship smelled like sea and men. The fleet of longships lined the shore, but she was on a galleon. This ship had more covering than the others– probably to protect of the injured, slaves, and goods from the elements. Lillith had never been on a ship before, but her stomach already disagreed with its motions. Maybe the upset had to do with her nerves. It was hard to tell. She was tossed in a dark, crammed room. For what felt like hours, there was only silence. Someone opened the door at one point to throw a piece of bread on her dirty skirt. She ate it like it was her last meal, which it probably was, and then she continued waiting. Angry motions knocked her left and right. She couldn’t stand in the small space, so all she could do was try to cling onto the walls. She heard men chatter in a foreign tongue, looted items getting carried onboard, and waves slap the ship. She couldn't remember the order. Time stopped making sense. The door slammed open. It was night now. It was him. The Jarl took her forearm and led her down a set of steps, into a captain’s quarters. The room was dimly lit with candles, and the enormous bed in the center was warmed by furs. “You ate?” he asked, already reaching for his belt. She dipped her chin. So it would start here, then. The Jarl would use her and pass her onto his men when he was done. “Are you untried?” She shook her head. She was no virgin. “Good. Bend over.” She didn’t bother fighting. She had no muscle on her, while he had arms that could span around her many times. Pulling up her skirts, she kneeled on the soft bed and exposed herself to the hard man. “What is this?” She didn’t understand the question. Although it had been a stressful day, she showered that morning. Was he upset about the mud on her legs? She felt something slide through her folds, and she tensed. “You are dry.” Of course, she was. No woman was excited by assault. The viking was a striking male, with his sinewy arms and rippling chest, but he was evil. She wouldn’t writhe for him. He made a sound, as if she displeased him, and ripped her skirt down. “Explain yourself.” “Explain…” He showed her his palm. It was wide, dry, and stiff with anger. “Why are you not wet? This never happens.” “Because you’re a rapst.” His face contorted with controlled rage. “My people only take willing women to the bedroll.” She gritted her teeth. “I am not willing, but I am here.” He clenched his dry fist. “This never happens. All women that cross my threshold are ready to be speared by cock. Why are you different?” She flinched from the lewd word. She was no virgin, but she never discussed such obscenities with men, either. “You will not touch me, then?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why does your cunt not weep for me?” he insisted. “I don’t want to bed you! You… your people, you rake through villages and take slaves home with you.” He grinned. “My people? What of yours?” She shook her head. “We don’t practice slavery. Not in the villages.” “But you burn women at stakes for alleged witchcraft, and you castrate homosexual men, and you set child assaulters free after a few years of imprisonment instead of beheading them, and you accuse assaulted women of seduction. Tell me, how is your culture better than mine?” “Because slaves endure all of that under your ownership.” “They do not. They have more rights than the ‘free’ men and women in your so-called-Christian villages.” He hauled out a bucket out of a closet, not reacting when water splashed all over him. “Clean yourself and get rest. You will pay back for what you did to my men by working as a thrall in my kitchens. Our ships will touch land in one week.” Her eyes teared at the reminder that she was leaving her home behind. “I defended myself, brute! I fought for my people.” The Jarl, whose name she still didn’t know, narrowed his eyes. “You insist on viewing me as an animal? Fine. I will see you tonight.” “You said you’re no rapist.” “I did.” He slammed the door shut, and she didn’t bother to check if it was locked because the only way she could escape was by jumping overboard into the cold seas. She refused to clean herself like he demanded. It was her only form of defiance. She only bothered to peel off the top layer of her dress– the decorative, muddy one. She tied a fur on her left shoulder to make up for the lost layer and then found a spot on the floor to curl up in and hope to die. It was difficult to fall asleep with her hip digging into the wood and the ship rocking angrily. They were riding through a storm; it seemed. She was nodding off when the door slammed open and a whole different kind of storm entered. His booted feet stomped the room in a panic. He must have thought she escaped. The moment was warming. Being a taller, fuller women than most, she never had many opportunities to hide. Now here she was, blocked by the bed and sending the viking into a frenzy. “What are you doing?” he huffed when he finally found her. “Sleeping.” She pulled her knees to her chest and smoothed her skirt down by wrapping an arm around them. “You will come to my bed.” “You said you wouldn’t–” “I know what I said!” he roared in sync with a clap of thunder. She jerked up, although the storm in front of her scared her more than the one in the sky. As she slid onto the bed, she wished she had her poisoned arrows with her. “You say I am a brute,” the Jarl said. His weight made the bed dip. “I will show you otherwise.” Her hips became swallowed by his hands, like hopeless ships in the angry ocean. He ripped her from the edge of the bed. The next thing she knew, she was atop him, her cheek on his chest. It was warm, hard, and terrifying. “What are you doing?” she asked, gripping his biceps and trying to put space between them. “You will fall asleep like this. You will listen to the thing beating in my chest; the proof that I am no brute.” “But– but wild animals have heartbeats too.” “Yes, but they become manic when a prey comes into their view. Their hearts beat wildly. Listen to mine. I have a plump female laying over me, and I am furious with her for killing one of my men. I could take you, or whip you.” His heart beat steadily, not with bloodthirst. “You are deranged if you think I will worship you like your men. You are a ruiner of lives.” “Go to sleep.” He pulled her higher up his chest, making sure her ear was over his heart. “Let me go. It won’t be comfortable for any of us if we sleep like this.” She fought him, but the viking clung to her like he was drowning and she was a raft. “I assure you that I am very comfortable.” “You won’t be able to breathe. I am a heavy woman.” There was no shame in her words. She knew who she was. She wouldn’t be shy about what was obvious, especially when she didn’t give a damn about her captor’s opinion. “Your body is why I took you,” he said, digging his fingers deeper into her hips. “I do not like fucking skinny females. Their cunts are hard, and I always fear I will snap them in half. Imagine my luck when a generously-curved female kills one of my men, falls from a tree, and right onto my lap. A brave little runt who glares as if she has an army behind her instead of two round cheeks I want to mark red. It is a shame you are not willing. The ship would have rocked itself underwater from how hard I would have fucked you. And you would have taken me with just as must wildness, wouldn’t you, freckles?” She pursed her lips. Their bodies were made for each other, but their souls were not compatible. Lillith would never give herself to a viking. Not when he enslaved souls. PART 2 of 5: Somehow, she survived that night. The Jarl was gone by the time she woke up, and part of her hoped he went for a midnight stroll and ended up falling overboard. She used some water in the bucket to wash her face and mouth, desperate to erase any trace of that man. By the time she was done, her cheek was raw. The familiar sound of heavy footfalls made her stand tall. The door opened and presented the Jarl. He eyed her body obscenely– something no men in the village had done before. She always had too much flesh to be appealing, but this Jarl wanted to lose his senses in it. “Here.” He extended a mop. “Your work starts today. Avoid the deck. My men will not hurt you, but I can’t guarantee that they will keep their eyes and words to themselves.” Seeing her hesitation to step forward, he placed the hop on the wall and walked out. Lillith noticed something strange. While his chest was awfully scarred, his back was clear. He has never let an enemy reach his back. His skills were terrifying. Lillith adjusted the fur over her shoulders and got to work. She didn’t mind. It gave her something to think about, and she appreciated forgetting that she was now a thrall. The mop sloshed around. She used the water in the bucket to wet the hall that led to the captain’s quarters. The ship rocked gently under her, its earlier rumble with the sea long forgotten. Somehow, she ended up thinking about the Jarl once more. “Your work starts today,” she mocked, although she couldn’t match his baritone. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I am no brute.” Erik watched her from a corner as she rambled. Impersonation clearly wasn’t one of her talents. When he heard approaching footsteps, he raised a hand to halt the person. He wanted no interruption from the beautiful, ridiculous woman. She was saying all sorts of things in a voice that sounded nothing like his. How was she unmarried? She had more balls than most men in that generation, and she was easy to look at. She was taller and thicker than the average village female, but this unphased Erik, since he was above six feet and capable of dragging a longship into a sea. It was a shame she wouldn’t let him pound her with a true cock– a viking cock. At least he could be warmed at night with her soft body and entertained in the days with her shenanigans. He shook his head when she lifted her arms to impersonate flexed muscles, giggling at her own stupidity. – • – “No.” Erik sighed. “I am tired, apple. Hurry up.” “My name is not apple, or freckles.” “I will call you female, then.” His eyes fell to her chest. “Because you are very much female.” “I am your thrall, but I am still a person who deserves respect.” “You are right. Come and allow me to whisper how sorry I am in your ear.” He extended his arms from where he sat at the edge of the bed. For fifteen minutes, Lillith had been demanding to sleep on the floor. He forbade it. “Don’t the thralls you pick up from raids get a shared room? Where is it? Let me stay there.” “They do, but most do not call me brute to my face. I told you what your punishment was.” “But I already listened to your heartbeat. I learned my lesson. Why must I do this again?” “Because, you did not learn your lesson. You will sleep atop me until you do. Come.” She glared at him as she crawled on top and rested her cheek on his chest. “What is your name?” “Lillith. And yours?” “Jarl.” “That is your position.” “Men must call me by my position.” “But I am not a man.” He paused. “If I tell you, will you come to me willingly to my arms tomorrow night?” His hand trailed across the small of her back, making her feel smaller than ever. She didn’t want to sleep in his arms again, but she wanted to know his name. “Very well.” “It is Erik, but you must call me Jarl. Sleep, now.” “I can’t sleep like this,” she argued. How could he sleep? She had to be crushing him. “Sleep,” he repeated. She cursed the day her arrow missed him. The next day, she wiped down the walls of the hallway. Her arms ached from the effort, but it wasn’t back-breaking work. She was half-way done when a boy turned the corner. He had to be around fifteen. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. She was only nine years older, but her innate maternal instinct surfaced. “Who are you?” the boy asked. “I asked first.” “I am a part of the ship. I take care of the ship while my dad goes out to battle.” He thrust his chest out proudly. “He says I am learning the ropes.” Lillith didn’t like that answer. Children shouldn’t be around war, even if it was to stay behind on ships to clean. “Well, do you have any other interests? You don’t have to be a warrior. There are many other positions that are required to run a village.” The boy shrugged. “I like fishing.” “Then fish.” She smiled. “Can you tell me about fishes?” He began to ramble. Lillith listened and encouraged his enthusiasm with her smiles and questions. “What’s wrong?” she asked when he frowned. “I have to be a warrior. I’m the only son.” “That’s not true. You need to do what makes you happy.” She palmed her hips. “If your father tells you that he will disown you for following your dreams, then tell him he’s a brute.” The boy giggled. “I can’t do that! He’ll tie me to the mast!” She winked. “Then make sure to bring your fishing line.” Erik watched the two. His hunger for Lillith roared. He tried to return to work, but he kept remembering the female grabbing her hips and stomping her foot down. She was beautiful and unapologetic. He wanted her. When he passed a shield, he picked it up and stared at his reflection. It was blurry, but he could see himself. At thirty, he wasn’t getting younger. Maybe it was time to give his house a child. His father would be livid to find a thrall pregnant by a Jarl, but Erik had always been reckless. He would get over it, like he always did. There was only one problem. The crazy female had no interest in bedding him. As he worked, he thought of ways to change that. – • – Lillith was just finishing washing face and under her skirt when Erik appeared. She straightened her dress immediately. “Did you finish with the walls today?” “Yes, Jarl,” she sighed. She slipped under the blankets and waited for the torture. “Good. Tomorrow you will…” Erik pulled his trousers down, revealing a sight that made her legs shut out of fear. “What are you doing?” she rasped, ducking to hide under the covers. The darkness didn’t help, though. Erik’s cock had been burned into her mind. “I am bathing. Why?” “You cannot do that with me in the room!” “Absurd,” he scoffed. “You lay on me at night, your cunt an inch shy of it. What does it matter if you look at it?” She didn’t reply, hoping he’d drop the humiliating topic. She heard water trickle, and her curiosity– the damned thing, festered in her gut. Shyly, she peeled the blanket down by an inch and peeked out. Erik wasn’t looking at her. He scrubbed under an arm with what remained of the soap, letting his majestic dick swing freely. When he fisted it and began to pump, she scurried back to hiding. It took a few more minutes for him to slide under the covers and flick her atop him. “If you want to touch it, you just have to ask. There is no need to lurk.” “Quiet, Jarl, or your crew will find you suffocated next morning.” He chuckled and shifted. She felt something prod her thigh. “Will you please remove your hand from my leg?” “That isn’t my hand,” he said, pressing all ten fingers into her hips as proof. “You…” she choked. “Move it yourself if you want, but my hands are comfortable here.” She scurried away from the thing, although he didn’t let her remove her head from his chest. “Lillith.” “What?” she grumbled. “Have my firstborn.” “What!” “Be calm,” he said when she fought his embrace. “I am thirty summers old. Fatherhood is overdue.” “Then ask a woman in your life to give you…” “I don’t want them. None look like you.” “You are being superficial. There is more to a woman than her body.” “I know this. You have all I need, including your outrageous hobbies like impersonation and not minding your business.” “You saw that?” she gulped. “Yes. My favorite part was when you flexed your arms.” She fell silent. “Glad to hear you agree, then. Let’s get to work.” He flipped them, pinning her below him and straddling her hips. “Wait, no!” Erik looked annoyed. “What is it you want? Name it, and you will have it.” She fisted her hands to avoid slapping him. “I cannot be bought. “Everyone has a price.” “No.” She turned her head and closed her eyes. “Now rape me, or get off me, Jarl. I will bear you no children willingly.” He collapsed beside her with anger. That night, she didn’t sleep on his chest. It was days later when they landed on the beaches of her new home. Thralls rushed into the ship to collect goods and found her in Erik’s room. An older woman took her to the kitchens, and she lost sight of Erik. Cooking and cleaning became her life for the next two days. The girls were friendly, and she ate good food, but she wasn’t free. She didn’t know how she would survive a lifetime of this. She considered asking the headmaster if she could make bows and arrows. That would make her less miserable. She was in the slave quarters, tossing and turning in bed, when a dark shadow slipped past the curtain. “Jarl,” one thrall recognized. She rushed to light a candle, while Erik ignored her. “Lillith. You will come with me.”Wanting to scurry from the attention she was getting, Lillith pulled her blanket over her shoulders and slipped past the Jarl. “Erik,” she whispered as she followed him past the tall windows. “What are you doing here?” “Buying you,” he answered. She frowned. “I am already your thrall.” He led her through corridors until they were safely locked in their room. “All active thralls will be offered freedom two moons from today, along with a small compensation. Now…” She nearly tripped when he cornered her. “Will you spread your sweet cunt for me?” Lillith tried to collect her thoughts. “What? But what about future raids? Will you gather new thralls?” “I am abolishing the damned thing in my lands. I can survive without it. It is an outdated system, anyways.” “You will?” she asked. “Just for…” “Just for the right to fuck you,” he finished. “Oh…” she blinked. “Um… I need to think?” Erik groaned and pushed off her. “Go.” She ran so fast to her quarters that she nearly snapped an ankle. Free! Erik would free thralls just to have her. It was a flattering thought. She had been unwanted for all of her adult life and here was a powerful man ready to abandon his cultural norm to have her. He would keep his word. She knew he would. For two days, she walked around with a knowing smile. A part of her wondered if any thralls would actually leave. They seemed happy here, beside their situation. Still, Lillith was glad they had the option to be truly free. She hadn’t seen Erik in days. There was something she didn’t get to ask him. Did he want her to bear children as soon as possible? As wonderful as motherhood was, and as old as she was getting, she wasn’t ready. She wouldn’t be ready until she knew Erik well. That night, after curfew, she slipped out and searched for his room. There was no door attached, as if Erik were welcoming assassins inside. “Jarl?” she called out, suddenly shy. He appeared from the darkness. The low lighting revealed his agonized face. “What are you doing here? I did not call for you.” She hopped a little to reach his mouth. Although she was very tall, she was nothing beside Erik. Her breasts vibrated from his rumble, and her butt followed when he slammed his hands on it. Lillith wondered if she would survive to see the thralls set free. “Wait…” “I have waited a month.” Erik pushed her closer to the bed, his cock feeling like a dagger against her thigh. “I cannot have your children. Not yet. Please understand.” “Understood.” He ripped her dress down the center. It had already been scandalously thin, but now it was non-existent. Erik made quick work of removing everything that remained in his way. “Odin’s balls,” he groaned when her heavy breasts overfilled his hands. “Don’t stare,” she pleaded. “Very well.” With quick manipulation of his hands, she was kneeling on the bed and ready for penetration. Lillith waited for pain, but instead received confusion when something warm, wet, and silky latched onto her cunt. “Erik!” she shrieked with humiliation when she realized where the Jarl’s face was. She tried to close her legs, but that just resulted in pulling him closer. Something funny began to stir in the folds Erik was lapping through. Erik’s tongue slid to the back of her left thigh. He licked all over it, circled across her large ass, and bridged onto her right thigh. His teeth dug into her flesh. It was embarrassing, but no amount of shy squirming would set her free. He spun her around, lifting her as if she were a pillow. “You will spread yourself open,” he ordered. She opened her thighs, but covered her face with her hands. “No, Lillith. Open yourself.” “But I already did,” she grumbled. He took her hands from her face and brough them to her engorged clit. When she realized what he wanted, she tugged her hands free. “No. I will not display myself in such a lewd manner.” Erik shrugged, pulled her cheeks apart until it burned, and continued to do ungodly things to her apex. He blew cool air onto her quivering pussy, circled the seams, and then warmed her back up by slurping her into his mouth. He trailed his lips north, biting her belly and licking a line up to her breasts. He grinned, before sucking one pebbled nipple into his mouth. He wrapped her legs around him and taught her to dry-hump against his abs. His hands remained on her cheeks even when Lillith took over and moved her hips faster on his glistening stomach. He didn’t mind being used, being too busy playing with her breasts. “Erik. I am…” “Empty. I will fix that soon. But first, I have to make these as red as your face.” He sucked one breast hard, forming a hickey on it. She whimpered when the pain thundered right down to her clit. Warmth flooded her, and she felt high off pleasure for ten life-changing seconds. Not knowing if her discharge was normal, she stopped grinding onto his flat belly and tried to wipe away the wetness she spilled on him. “I am sorry. I don’t know…” Erik took her hand, licked it clean, and then motor-boated his face into her breasts. When he was satisfied with the art he made on her chest, he pushed her legs as far as they could go. “I will fuck you like this, and then you will ride me.” She wasn’t sure what ‘ride’ meant, but she’d do it if it meant he would make her pussy explode again. Erik held her legs open. He didn’t need to use his hands to lead himself inside. His cock was so straight and heavy that all he needed to do was push his hips forward. He watched himself disappear inside her, determined to memorize the sight. Meanwhile, Lillith opened her legs wider to make up for the lack of space in her belly. Her breathing became restricted, and it was probably because his damned cock reached her lungs. The heavy, pulsing thing inside her was re-arranging her insides, and Erik hadn’t even begun to thrust. When the Jarl bottomed out, he pulled out and returned to his rightful place. Thrusts came fast and hard, and she took them all. With Erik holding her legs open, she leaned forward to dig her nails into his unmarked back. He let her, but not without punishment. He began to fuck her so hard that it felt like her clit was getting spanked. Every time he bottomed out with that delicious plap sound, she rose an inch up the bed. Erik had to move his hands to her hips to pin her to the bed so she could take all of him. “Perfect. You were made to be fucked by me” She opened her eyes, and found his gritted teeth, swollen biceps, and glistening abs. “How can you have a cunt like this and…” he grunted. “Ask me to not spill inside you?” He looked wonderful from this angle. He was dancing into her with an angry tempo. She wanted him so badly that her hips ached from how far she was spreading her legs. It was madness. Her hips hurt, her clit was being punished, and her walls were swollen, but she wanted more of that brutalizing cock. Erik bottomed out, spread her pussy lips open with his thumbs, and grinned. “You wear my cock so prettily.” His compliment was followed by a frenzy of thrusts that made her dizzy. She convulsed around him. Her cunt gripped him hard, demanding his come, but Erik managed to spill his load on her panting belly. He swung her atop him, seeking more. “Huh?” “You will ride me now.” She looked at the pulsing cock she was sitting atop. “Erik, mercy, please. I am too sensitive.” “Rest, then. Kiss me.” She tried to lean in, but then remembered that her stomach was covered in his come. She made a move to wipe herself clean, but Erik swiped his hand across her belly, made her lay atop him, and circled her pulsing entrance with his semen-slick fingers. “One day,” he said longingly. “One day?” “One day, I will warm your pretty cunt with enough seed that you will drip for days.” He sighed. How does one reply to that? “Um… I should get off you. I don’t want to…” He glared, and to show her just how insignificant her weight was, he pulled her to the nearest wall, supported her weight, and fucked her until she felt boneless. He could tell that she couldn’t handle any more, so he took their slicked bodies to bed. “Sleep.” “Uhuh,” she nodded, turning her mouth away so he would stop kissing her. “Goodnight, brute.” He chuckled. PART 3 of 5: Lillith woke up to the sound of shuffling. Erik was dressing. She slid out of bed and realized just how abused her pelvis was. Her clitoris was especially defeated. Erik had gone to town on it. “What are you doing?” he asked when she reached for her crumpled dress. She pulled it up her legs, pausing to stare at the bite mark at her hip. If she had been any smaller, she wouldn't had survived Erik last night. “I have work,” she replied. “No, you do not.” She palmed her hips, including the one that had the crescent indentation of his teeth. “I am a thrall. I will work like everyone else.” “You are more than that,” Erik argued with a look of annoyance. “I will not sit in leisure while everyone else works, Jarl.” His arms twitched as he considered pulling her and rutting her until she ached so badly that she became bedridden. To soften the blow of her rebellion, Lillith said, “I will return to you tonight.” “Tonight,” Erik agreed. He kissed her and clutched onto her hips as if he couldn’t get enough of them. When she left the room, she felt his eyes follow. She dove into work in the kitchens right away, although the space wasn’t as lively. She caught some girls looking at her sideways. Lillith understood. Erik was a handsome, wealthy Jarl, and she was his latest fur-warmer. Upon meeting her, the girls didn’t think she would ever be competition. Her femininity was so unapologetic that it was confused for masculinity. Now, the girls realized they were wrong. Lillith was very much competition. She could practically smell the jealousy in the kitchens. It was sour, like vinegar. Luckily, there was so much work to do that Lillith had little time to think about her ruined friendships. She dove through pots and spices for hours. Things were so busy that she didn’t think she could return to Erik on time like she promised. When she spotted him crossing a corridor, she wiped her hands on the nearest towel, and chased after him. “Jarl,” she called out, knowing she couldn’t use his birth-given name in public. Reaching out, she palmed his cloak-covered back. He spun, and she dropped her hand instantly. This wasn’t Erik. His body was built similarly, but his face was of another man’s. She dropped her gaze. “My apologies. I thought you were someone else.” His stance widened. “I am a Jarl, though not Erik.” Lillith blinked. He must be the visitor the kitchen had been fussing about all day. The Jarl scanned her figure, probably surprised at what he found just like all the other males that crossed her. “You are beautiful.” She stiffened. Did he have the same fascination as Erik? This Jarl was a large man and probably had the same bedroom issues with smaller women. Fleshier women like herself could handle his pounding better than others. “Thank you, Jarl. I must return to work. Please excuse me.” She dipped her chin and took a step backward, only to bump into someone. “Erik,” the other Jarl greeted. “I was just looking for you.” An irritated Erik didn’t reply. “This thrall,” the Jarl gestured to her. “I offer you one longship for her. Will you trade with me?” “No.” The other male looked dismayed. “What about when you tire of her? Will you send her to my lands?” “You are sailing in dangerous waters, Bjorn. I advise that you stop asking questions now.” Bjorn raised an eyebrow. “You are threatening me over a thrall?” “Erik, please,” Lillith interjected. “You already rejected the offer. We should move on, yes?” Bjorn palmed his hips. The motion moved his cloak aside to reveal the knife belt that was strapped around his waist. He stared at her with newfound interest, and Lillith realized her mistake. A thrall diving into a conversation between Jarls was practically begging for trouble. Erik didn’t react, but Bjorn pulled out a knife. Lillith pressed herself into Erik and reached for one of the knives in his own belt. If he wouldn’t defend her, then she would do it herself. Bjorn raised an arm and ran the knife across his forearm. Blood poured out of the morbid gash. As it spilled onto the ground, Bjorn casually said, “I did not know she was your woman, or I should not have approached. Her thrall clothing confused me. I apologize.” Erik replied something in his norse tongue. Bjorn nodded and left. A trail of blood followed him. Lillith didn’t understand why he injured himself. She figured it was some sort of display of respect for Erik. Relieved their encounter didn’t go sideways, she looked up. Erik still looked bloodthirsty, as if Bjorn’s offer hadn’t been enough. He grabbed her upper arm and led her to the kitchen. “Everyone out!” Thralls dropped whatever they were holding and ran as if the place was on fire. Erik led her to the counter, swiped the unchopped vegetables and utensils off the table, and lifted her onto it. He couldn’t possibly want sex in the place where all food in the house was cooked, right? This was practically a holy spot. It would be absurd to unite bodies here. Erik spun her so she was on her knees. Before she could ask any questions, her dress was up. Something cold trickled down her exposed folds. Alarmed, she looked back and found Erik holding up a tipped over sauce pan. Was this some sort of punishment? An attempt at humiliation? Erik proved her theories wrong by shoving his face right into the mess. He suckled on her seasoned clit, moaning from the combined taste of food and female. His short beard was soon dripping with liquid Lillith. Lillith forgot all about the possibility of someone walking in and find their Jarl’s face lost in her cunt. She placed her cheek on the wood, nailed her fingernails into it, and tried to stay conscious. Her hips began to rock against Erik’s face, searching for the thrusts only his cock could give her. Erik’s jealousy over Bjorn’s interest had him more aggressive than usual. Her inner thighs looked like a war-zone. There were bites, hickeys, sauce and saliva, all over. Her clit, which had been recovering from their nightly activities, was so swollen it hurt. She was ill with desire, and only an orgasm could cure her. Reaching back, she gripped a handful of the Jarl’s hair and ripped him away. “Get inside me. Now!” He grinned beside her insolence. Wanting to spoil her, he slipped his cock free, and filled her so fast that she screamed. Good. He wanted the whole place to know she was off limits. Wanted Bjorn to hear what he could never have. His balls swung rapidly below him as he stuffed Lillith with knee-weakening cock. He only got a dozen angry strokes in before she orgasmed. Even then, he offered no mercy. He heard a creak over Lillith’s whimpers, and his own groans, but he ignored it. He bottomed out, circled his hips, and pulled out. This cock was glistening with a mix of sauce, Lillith’s wetness and his pre-cum, his veins were throbbing, and his balls were stiff. He wanted to fill every crevice of Lillith until there was no doubt she was pregnant. Until every male that saw her swollen stomach knew she was taken. But he had to wait. It was unnerving, because he never had to wait for anything. He was a Jarl that got whatever he wanted. With an angry growl, he dove back into her and fucked her faster. His mania made the table gave out, but he wouldn’t let anything– even gravity, take this pussy away. He gripped Lillith by the hips and supported her weight. With the table broken below them, he jack-hammered into her until she was clawing at his hands for mercy. Another orgasm hit her, and she broke. Her snug cunt hugged him tighter, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head with joy. He wrapped an arm around her and used his free hand to pull his cock to her rear hole. He squeezed this tip in, ignoring Lillith’s shocked gasp, and spilled his seed back there. Panting, he sat on the floor and pulled her to his lap. “We will marry in three months, after I uphold my end of the deal.” She looked up at him. “I have no choice?” He grunted. “What? You wish to marry that bastard Bjorn? Go ahead, but know that you will start a war between us in the process.” She shook her head and stroked his jaw. “I have no interest in that Jarl.” “Good. Now, lay back. I need to lick sugar off your tits.” Lillith glared. “No. I have to get back to work.” She tried to stand, but found herself immobilized. Erik grinned when he discovered that his earlier thought of making her bedridden got accomplished. “Go rest. I will come to you tonight.” She shook her head. “I will finish work here, and you are going to help me.” “What? A jarl cannot do thrall work. It is below him.” She shrugged. “Then you cannot fuck this thrall.” “Wait. I have reconsidered.” The thought of being denied entry into her majestic depths had him jumping to his feet and cleaning up the kitchen like a lowly thrall. Damn Lillith. The woman had enslaved him. PART 4 of 5: This story may contain historical inaccuracies. “We have a problem.” Erik turned to his wife. Lilith was speaking, but he couldn’t concentrate on her words because he was distracted by her beauty yet again. “What was that?” he asked while rounding the desk and pulling her into his arms.The past three months had been hard on her. She was taken from her home and lived as a thrall before he finally stopped fighting their attraction and asked her to marry him. To get Lilith, he had to free every thrall under his command. It had all been worth it. “One of the girls went missing,” she frowned. “Issa. She is a young girl, barely eighteen. She’s a mousy little thing. I’m worried for her.” “How do you know her?” Erik asked. He kissed her brow to smoothen out the lines of distress, but that didn’t do much. He’d have to flip the town upside down to find the missing girl. Not only to make sure she was alright, but to make Lilith happy. “I worked with her in the kitchens. Can you send a scout for her? Please, Erik? Maybe she got lost in the woods.” “I will,” he promised. Lilith smiled at her husband. He was a bit rough around the edges, but that was unavoidable in this way of life. She hated that he plundered villages and had been trying to steer him away from the violence, but Erik saw life more brutishly— survival of the fittest. They would come to an agreement one day. She knew that much. When he kissed her, she melted into his arms. A hand began pulling her skirt up, but she grabbed his wrist to lock it in place. There was no way she would bounce on her husband’s lap and shout with joy while Issa was missing. “Issa?” she reminded him. Erik thundered his hand on her behind. Any other woman would have lost balance, but she seemed to have been built thick enough for him, and Erik loved it. “Very well.” She gave him a parting kiss and then left to check on the gardens. She needed to identify a couple of poisonous plants that got mixed with regular herbs, and she was the only one experienced enough to tell the difference. After a few hours, she realized she was running late for dinner. The thralls that decided to stay got a small salary and free room and board. They loved being there as much as she did. Realizing that she was filthy from hours of work, she asked one man to pull a tub to her bedroom. She scratched her wrist gently as she walked to her room. She’d need to take care of the itch before it got worse. She was about to enter her bedroom when she heard Erik’s laugh come from inside. She paused and frowned. Usually, Erik met guests in his office. Who was he in there with? “That skinny wench? I got rid of her. Sold her for a bag of gold.” She stumbled away from the entrance, and the itch on her wrist seemed to have erupted. She could recognize Erik’s voice, although she didn’t know who he was talking to. It didn’t matter. She understood the context of the conversation. After a few heartbeats, her feet began to move. She stepped back slowly and then dashed through the long halls of the house. When she turned a sharp corner, she slammed into a strong chest and went down. Scarred hands held her up, and she looked up to find Cedric— The Bloodhound. A bolt of fear ran up her spine. She never spoke much with this man. He was Erik’s executioner. The enormous, hulking man was silent and hardly seen during the day. Lillith ripped her body away. She didn’t mean to be rude, but he terrified her. He didn’t say anything. He never did. “Sorry,” she cleared her throat and wiped some dirt from her skirt. “I forgot I left a pot on the stove.” With that excuse, she walked around him and continued sprinting. She went past the gardens and into the shack. Her head was kept low to hide her tears. In the shack, she pulled a sack with four potatoes, a bottle of ground peppers, and one butter knife. She pulled one of the dusty blankets in the upper racks and replaced her sandals with men’s boots. There wasn’t much in there, and she didn’t have time to search. The last thing she took was a scythe used for cutting hay, and then she was out the back door. She needed to escape Erik before he decided to sell her, too. With her heart in her throat, she skirted around the village and hoped no one recognized her. She had the blanket over her head and shoulders, which didn’t look too strange since it was getting colder. Once she reached the road that led to the next village, she picked up her speed and finally set her tears free. She was leaving behind her beloved work, the friends she made, and the husband she thought she had. It was dangerous for her to be traveling down the open roads where bandits roamed, but she knew she had to leave Erik before he forced her to stay. Men like him didn’t like the word No. The darker it got, the more she realized in how much danger she was in. It was unlikely that she would encounter animals since there were many traps set along the forest line to keep them at bay, but men still lurked. Even with her strength and build, she wasn’t a warrior. When she spotted torches in the distance, she slid down a small slope and pressed herself against the dirt. A carriage rolled past her, and she listened closely to the voices of the men become distant. After many minutes, she sighed her relief and wiped her wet tears. She wanted to cuddle against the dirt and sleep, but she still had a lot of ground to cover before it was pitch dark. Erik likely sent out riders by then. If she knew how to ride horses, she would’ve galloped out of there, but she was stuck on foot. She returned to the main road and picked up her speed. A feminine yell in the distance made her tense. She wasn’t sure if she was losing her mind or not, but it sounded a lot like Issa. With her scythe tightly gripped in her hand, she went searching for Issa. PART 5 of 5 LILLITH The foliage thickened as Lillith stepped into the forest. She was dirty, itchy, and hungry, but she’d be damned before she turned around. She lurked by trees as she listened for more sounds of distress. If Issa was being held by more than one kidnapper, Lillith was going to need a plan. “Just my luck!” Lillith’s ears perked at the sound of that complaint. It was definitely Issa. Was she alone? “Ugh. Help! I’m lost!” What? “Issa!” “Yes! It’s me!” Lillith broke into a sprint, clutching her scythe in case any animal lunged. This forest wasn’t home to big predators, but it was dark, and she wasn’t risking it. Light pooled into her vision as she found Issa clutching a torch. “Issa!” she dropped the scythe and clutched her tight. “Oh, my skies. How did you get free? Are you hurt anywhere?” “Huh?” Lillith stepped back and scanned the smaller girl. “I know you’re scared, but I won’t let them take you. We’ll run away together.” “My lady,” Issa shook her head. “What are you talking about? I was only collecting herbs and lost my way.” “But— but you’ve been missing, and I heard Erik…” Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. “Erik is going to kill me.” Somehow, she twisted this situation into a mess. Erik handn’t sold Issa after all. Maybe it wasn’t too late to return home? Maybe he hadn’t noticed she left yet? Feeling hopeful, she passed her weapon to Issa and climbed the tallest tree. Her skirts got in the way a few times, but eventually, she reached the top and saw the nightmare that was in the distance. Dozens of torches burned as men marched for her. She couldn’t see him, but she knew Erik was among them. She was in serious trouble. With a groan, she climbed back down. “What’s wrong?” “I’ve made a horrible mistake,” Lillith admits. “And I don’t keen my husband is too happy about it. I thought you were… sold, and I came to get you by myself!” Issa cringed because she knew all bout how thunderous Erik could be. “So what now?” “Now, we wait and hope that a few kisses will calm Erik’s ire.” Calls begin to come in as men call her name. Lillith had no choice but to report herself. “I’m here!” Hooves crackled through the forest, and Erik broke through the trees with such a ferocity that she stumbled and fell on her back. Two feet land on the ground so heavily that the landscape shakes, and Lillith peeks at Erik from under her lashes. “What. Happened.” If she wasn’t seeing his face, she wouldn’t have recognized him. He had never been this furious. His voice never fallen to this depth. “I’m sorry!” she blurted. “I heard you talking about selling… and I assumed… forgive me!” She felt awful about jumping to this absurd conclusion. Erik had proved himself by making many changes and trusting her, but she backpedaled. Instead of reacting, Erik stands and pants heavily. Feeling guilty, Lillith stands up and reaches for him. Before her hand could caress his cheek, she finds herself pressed against the bark of a tree. It was harsh against her cheek, but nothing compared to the block of wood between her buttocks. “You will never do something so foolish again.” His teeth scrape her ear. “Do you understand?” Lillith dips her chin and repeats, “forgive me, husband.” She shoves her pelvis against him, wanting him to forget about his upset and spoil her with loving touches like he always does. She wanted to bury this mishap under a pile of orgasms. Based on the hand ripping through her skirts, Erik agreed, and he didn’t care about their audience. “Erik…” Before she could warn him, she was shoved full of the angry, relieved, eager, viking. She didn’t get a chance to apologize to Issa for the carnal view, because Erik gripped her hips and rode her so hard that any coherent thought is shaken out of her mind. “Come here,” a rough voice orders Issa, and Lillith vaguely recognizes him as the Cedric, The Bloodhound. She wanted to make sure Issa was alright, but Erik was pounding her so hard that her legs became disabled. They were alone now, and the sounds of the night were disturbed by their perversion. Erik clung to her hips as he shoved into her in sure, strong strokes. With every cock-full, she was thrust forward, and her nipples inched out of her dress. Her flesh wasn’t the only thing coming out. She dug her nails into the bark and cried into the night. Although she felt twinges of pain, she wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else than perched at the end of this man. Against a rock, in a river, in the end of the world. She would let him enter her anywhere. Their passion burned hotter than usual. She considered running away a second time to get this rowdy punishment all over again. The thirst she had becomes drenched by a load of semen. Erik didn’t stop there, though. He kept fucking her through his pumping. Some of the warm seed splattered loudly on the leaves below them, some licked down the back of her thighs. Her womb drank most of it. She was a turbulent sea as this ship sailed into her, dripping in sweat and his semen. Lillith was close; so close that she did one of the things Erik hated— she reached between her legs to caress her clit. A scarred hand snared around her wrist and pulled it back to the tree. Lillith’s sound of complaint was lost between the steady clap, clap, clap, of her viking’s toned pelvis meeting her meaty ass. And then, as soon as it started, it ended. She was pushed onto her knees, feeling empty and pulsing. Her pleasure began to crumble. She opened her mouth to beg for more, but Erik forbade speech a second time. His veiny, thick inches invaded her mouth. Lillith gagged. She didn’t know how he was still hard after coming, but she wasn’t complaining. With a little groan that she knew he felt right on his balls, she began suckling and licking the cock that had just been plundering her pussy. It was no easy feat. Within a minute, her cheeks felt strained from being stretched so wide. She moaned again, knowing what it did to him. She needed to speed this up; needed him to make her come. When Erik pulled out of her mouth and pushed her to his favorite position— doggy-style, she grinned and licked a trail of wetness from her bottom lip. She arched her back like a good little wife, knowing that he loved the sight of her jiggling behind. Her smile was wiped off her face when she felt him prod the wrong hole. They’d had anal many times before, but she preferred when he fucked her cunt. “Erik!” “Keep talking and I’ll stop right now.”That shut her up fast. He took his time entering her, and it only took a dozen strokes inside her tight sheathe for him to shower that hole, too. “Let’s go,” he said, slipping out of her. “What!” His hand spanked her cunt twice. She jumped. “Do you think I’m going to please you after these shenanigans? Do you think you deserve it?” She lowered her head and pouted, because she knew he was right. Erik did his best to put her dress back together, but it was gone. He took his shirt off his back and pulled it over her head. Stepping into the woods for a minute, he returned with his horse and helped her climb on its back. “Let’s go home,” he tells the animal. “What about Issa?” she reminded him. “Heard her scream a minute ago,” Erik answered. “What!” “It wasn’t a scream of pain.” Oh. Oh! Issa is with Cedric? More like Cedric is in her. “Will she be alright?” “We’ll wait for them to finish before going back.” Great, now the whole town will know that she and Issa got their cheeks clapped in the middle of the forest. “I’m very sorry, Erik.” “I know.” She lowered her head and dwindled her thumbs while shifting her pelvis. She was sore, wet, chafe, and severely unsatisfied. The answer to her problems was inches away, still semi-hard, but Erik was punishing her in the few ways he knew how. “Quit your squirming.” She made a little sound of displeasure and closed her eyes. It had been a long day, and she was hungry. The only thing in her belly was her husband’s release. She dosed off as they began the ride home, but jumped to alertness when she felt strong fingers against her entrance. “Erik?” she whispered. “Just this once.” They were on the lead of the party, so Erik had no reservations against ripping a little hole in the front of her already beaten skirts, entering his middle finger, finding her core, and fingering her into a quick, shuddering orgasm. “I love you,” she mumbled. Erik popped his finger into his mouth and sucked it clean. “I love you too, but damn it, Lillith, you scared me to death.” “I won’t ever leave you again,” she snuggled into his chest. “I promise.”