Mastered by the Berserkers (Berserker Brides)

by Lee Savino

  The friar licked his lips. “Well, no. Those are simply the gravest ones. There’re also the vices. Pride, avarice, envy, wrath, lust—”

  Jarl waved a hand. “I think it’ll be faster to say I’ve done them all.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Fenrir added.

  “All right. All right.” The friar looked as if he wished he could dart back into the church and hide. He backed away and grabbed the cross, raising it and waving it between him and the tattooed warrior. “I absolve you. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.” He set down the cross, picked up the bowl, and flicked holy water onto Jarl, who grimaced and wiped it off.

  “What is that?” Fenrir bent to ask me.

  “Holy water,” I whisper back. “It is meant to symbolize washing away his sins.”

  “Better use all of it,” Fenrir muttered.

  “Now,” the priest turned to me and his tone softened, “Will you confess your sins, child?”

  “No.” Fenrir said, stepping in front of me, blocking the priest from getting closer. “She has already confessed.”

  “And been absolved,” Jarl added. His smirk made heat roll through me, from my head to my toes.

  “I have confessed, Father,” I reassured the friar.

  “It did not take as long. She sins a lot less,” Jarl said.

  The friar sighed. He turned his back and took up the chalice and ciborium, and began to mutter in Latin.

  “What is he doing?”

  “He’s performing the sacrament,” I whispered. We waited for the priest to finish. He consecrated the host and held the chalice and plate up over his head, then turned almost reluctantly to us.

  He offered the goblet to Jarl while droning a line of Latin.

  “The blood of the new covenant,” I translated.

  “Blood?” Jarl snarled. He took the cup and sniffed.

  “Yes, the blood of our Lord Jesus, who died for our sins,” the priest babbled.

  Stay calm, I willed him silently. Do not anger these men. Jarl and Fenrir would not hurt me, but they wouldn't hesitate to slit this man’s throat and find another priest.

  “Doesn’t smell like blood.” Jarl sounded more curious than disgusted. He took a sip. I took the cup from him before he could drink more.

  “And this is the body of Christ, given unto you,” the priest went on hurriedly, offering the ciborium that held the host.

  “The body? Do you mean flesh?” Jarl’s voice was thick with a growl. “You eat the flesh of your god?”

  “And you think we are heathens,” Fenrir muttered to me.

  The priest was squawking something. I took the Host and shoved it into Jarl’s mouth. He startled but let me feed him. He even licked the crumbs from my fingers until my inner muscles twinged.

  I pushed him back so I could take my part of the Host. Before I could hand the goblet back to the priest, Fenrir grabbed it and drained it down.

  “Wine,” he said dismissively, tossing the goblet to the ground. “Blood tastes different.”

  I closed my eyes.

  The friar spoke the rest of the ceremony in double time, barely stopping to coach us through our vows. I’d not attended many weddings, but I was sure he’d left large chunks out. Perhaps the Berserkers’ glinting weapons distracted him.

  Finally he waved the cross in front of us and sprinkled us both with holy water for good measure.

  “It is done?” Jarl growled. “We are married?”

  “Yes,” the priest bobbed his head. “May the Lord bless and keep you—”

  “Good,” Jarl said and drew me close to finish the kiss he’d started in the grove. His big hands cupped my face, and he drank of my lips until I stood dazed. Jarl made sure I was steady on my feet, gave my forehead a last kiss. He stepped back and Fenrir took his place beside me.

  “Now me,” Fenrir said.

  “What?” the priest looked back and forth between us, clearly confused.

  “It’s my turn. I wish to marry this woman. You will speak the rites.”

  The priest gasped and crossed himself.

  My insides curdled. “Fenrir, no.”

  “Yes.” He took my arm and pulled me to his side. “I want this, little wife.”

  The priest was still gaping at us. “Y-you would marry her, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “But—” the priest’s protest died in a gurgle as Jarl held a dagger to the priest’s neck. “You will do it,” he growled.

  “Jarl, leave him alone,” I ordered.

  “Hush, Juliet,” Jarl said. Still holding the weapon on the priest, Jarl loosened a leather bag from his belt. It bulged, similar to Fenrir’s. He upturned it and let the gold coin flash in front of the priest.

  “Jarl,” I said. My new husband stepped back.

  The priest straightened his cassock. The toe of his boot hit the pile of gold and it clinked. A long pause, then he sighed and straightened.

  The priest first looked to me. “Are you willing?” he asked weakly.

  My heart warmed. “Yes, Father, I am willing.”

  “All right. God forgive me, I’ll do it.” He waved us both before him, and soon I was repeating the vows, and I was married again.

  10

  Fenrir

  Our little bride looked dazed as we led her from the tiny church. As soon as we left the clearing, I gripped the back of her neck and guided her back to the grove where I’d left my pack.

  I leaned close to whisper, “This way, little wife.” Though I wouldn’t have thought it possible, her cheeks reddened even further.

  When we reached the grove, she stumbled away from me, backing away until she stood in the patch of bluebells.

  “Is this why we came all this way? So you could marry me like this?”

  “Yes. Does it make you happy?”

  “Yes, but—” Her brow wrinkled.

  “You didn’t have a choice,” I said quickly. “We will not allow you to leave us. We will bind you to us in any way we can.” I came to her side and took her braid, starting to undo it.

  “All right.” She rubbed her forehead.

  Jarl loosened the straps around his shoulders and let his shield and axe thud to the ground.

  I loosened the last of her braid, letting her hair tumble around her shoulders.

  “Come here, little wife. Now,” Jarl ordered. I gave her a little push toward him.

  She floated to him, the folds of her dress dragging over the flowers and releasing their bouquet. He held a torc in his hand, a ring of braided silver and gold. I lifted her hair so he could fit it around her slender neck.

  “You belong to us in every way,” he told her as he collared her. “Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “There’s no escape.” He lifted her chin and kissed her. When he finished with her lips, I was waiting.

  “Do you have the oil?” he asked.

  “In the pack,” I said. Poor little wife. She would soon learn how thoroughly we would claim her.

  I walked her back to a tree. I’d already unbound my cock. It was easy enough to lift her off her feet, toss up her skirts, and find her slick folds. I rubbed her a moment until her eyes rolled back in bliss. Then I hitched her higher, and let her slide down on my length. She sighed as gravity tugged her down, forcing her to impale herself. I braced her against the tree trunk and drove my hips forward and back. She shook her head, her hair tumbling around my face.

  “That’s it. Take it,” I hammered her harder, driving into her over and over. She was hot and tight and perfect. I let her cum once, shuddering against the trunk. Then again, with her body limp on mine and her head pressed into my shoulder.

  “Good girl,” I kissed the side of her neck and let her down. I didn’t cum. Not yet. I was saving myself for her ass.

  “My turn,” Jarl said. He pushed me aside, handing me the vial of oil.

  He bent Juliet over and had her hang onto the trunk, her cheek pressed against the bark as he took her from beh
ind. “Ah, yes. My reward.” He held her hips and glided in and out slowly.

  I walked around and felt down between her legs. I touched the little swollen nubbin above her entrance, playing with it while Jarl rocked in and out of her. But this time I didn’t let her cum.

  “Change positions,” I advised Jarl and he nodded, swiping a forearm over his brow. When he pulled out, his rod was hard and shiny with her juices. He hadn’t cum yet either.

  “Lie down on me,” he ordered Juliet, drawing her down and clamping an arm around her back so she didn’t have any choice. The position left room for me to pull up her dress and bare her bottom. For a moment I was distracted by the pale half moons. I ran my hand over the tender flesh, and cracked my palm against it, admiring the pink print.

  “Ah, do that again,” Jarl groaned. He had his hands inside Juliet’s bodice, gripping her breasts and guiding her to ride him.

  I spanked her slowly, my slaps growing in intensity.

  “Whenever you spank her, she clenches on me,” Jarl growled.

  “Tip her forward.” I poured oil in my palm. When Jarl pulled Juliet flush against his chest, her bottom cheeks parted. I stroked oil into the pale valley and found the tender crinkle of her bottom hole.

  Juliet squealed. “What are you doing?”

  “We are your mates. We will do what we wish with you.”

  “And we wish to give you great pleasure.”

  She wriggled, trying to get away. I spanked her harder. Jarl laughed like a madman, holding her hips down.

  She growled and clawed at him and he only laughed harder, wrapping his arms around her small body.

  I finished sliding my fingers up and down her rear cleft and pushed a finger into her bottom. Her ass was tight and searing hot. So good.

  “I want to feel,” Jarl said.

  I nodded. He pulled her off him, holding her tight as if she might run.

  “All fours.” He propped her the way he wanted her and caught the vial when I tossed it to him. I helped hold Juliet down so he could oil her bottom hole.

  “Ah yes, that’s good,” he sighed. “Tight enough to snap my finger off. How will we fit our cocks up there?”

  “I have a few ideas,” I said, but right now I couldn’t think of any of them. My cock was so hard, it might burst. I couldn’t wait any longer. I grabbed a handful of our little nun’s hair and guided her mouth to my jutting rod. “Suck me now,” I ordered. My cock bumped against her mouth and her lips parted automatically. “Good girl. Do a good job and I won’t take your ass right here.” I’d claim it properly when we were back in the lodge.

  Juliet bobbed her head up and down, taking me down as far as she could. I held her hair out of her face and murmured encouragement, though she hardly needed more than the threat of us taking her ass.

  All too soon, I was spurting down her throat. She sputtered but swallowed me down. I scooped the seed that trickled from her lips back into her mouth.

  “Ah, well done, little wife.”

  Her eyes were hooded, her lips puffy from taking my cock. She’d never looked so beautiful.

  Jarl lay back and had her ride him while I spanked her some more. He came with a roar and held her tight to his chest while I took out the metal bulb I’d had made. I coated it with oil and pressed it against her dark rosebud until her ass opened and she accepted it.

  “How long must I wear this?” she asked, sitting up gingerly. Her face was redder than her spanked ass.

  “Until we are back at the lodge. Then we will take turns fucking your ass until you learn to cum with your ass full of cock.”

  She shuddered. I tugged on the plug and pushed it back in until it was fully seated in her ass. I did it again and again, then reached down to see if she’d grown wet.

  She was dripping.

  “You are our wife. Our little one. We will never hurt you. But we will claim you thoroughly,” I promised.

  Then we spread her out on her back in the bluebells, and ate her cunny until she screamed.

  Juliet

  The plug in my bottom felt huge and unwieldy the whole journey back to our lodge. My stride was awkward, and when Jarl and Fenrir took turns carrying me in their arms, I couldn’t help shifting my position every so often. They smirked at me, and I blushed, knowing they could tell exactly what was making me uncomfortable.

  My pussy still dripped with arousal and their seed. I’d been claimed thoroughly, fully, and in ways I never thought possible. The Berserkers had promised to master me, and they had.

  I was married. The tightness in my chest had eased. I still felt hollow, but it was a good feeling. My insides had been scoured clean. If my heart was a garden, the deep roots of something poisonous had been ripped out, and now there was ample room to grow something new.

  I dozed in Fenrir’s arms on the final leg of our journey, and by the time we entered the lodge, I was awake but drowsy.

  He set me on the bed and went to help Jarl build up the fire. I shifted onto my side, to ease the feeling of the plug in my ass. It no longer burned, but my hole stretched uneasily around it. Every once in a while I clenched and was reminded of everything that had happened this afternoon all over again.

  “Come, Juliet.” Fenrir stripped me of my dress and boots. I stood naked before him, my arms wrapped around my bare chest.

  Fenrir drew me between his legs. I shifted from foot to foot, wishing the stretch of my bottom hole would ease.

  “You’re doing well, little wife. How do you feel?”

  I shrugged. He stroked back the messy tendrils of my hair.

  Jarl prowled up to the bed. “Do you admit you belong to us, now?”

  I almost rolled my eyes at that. “If I say no, what would you do?”

  “Tie you up again and whip you until you admit the truth.” His eyes gleamed and a hot jolt of arousal shot through me. The Berserkers had trained me to respond.

  “I belong to you, as you belong to me.” I raised my chin. “Husband.”

  Fenrir chuckled. “Well said, little wife.” He tipped me over his lap, so my upturned bottom gave him perfect access to the plug. He plucked and pushed at it, moving it in and out. I kicked and struggled with each invasion, but my arousal grew.

  “You still are our captive and our mate. But we meant the vows we spoke.” Fenrir stroked my back as he used the plug to probe my ass. “We will be true to you, Juliet. We will love and protect you and cherish you forever.” He spanked my bottom, his palm catching the plug and making me cry out as arousal bloomed hot and wild between my legs. I angled my hips, trying to rub against his leg. Fenrir saw my desperation and chuckled. He slapped my rear until each cheek glowed like a coal in the fire. Then he flipped me onto the bed, onto my back.

  The position pushed the plug deeper inside me. I tried to roll off my back, but Jarl caught me and pulled me back, so I still lay on my back with my head on his lap. Fenrir knelt between my legs, pushing my knees wider and pinning them lightly with his weight. My legs were open, my cunny spread wide with pink folds dripping as the plug impaled my ass.

  “We will still punish you. And we will claim you thoroughly,” Fenrir promised. He set his palm against my cunny and ground down lightly. Sparks shot from my center, my arousal catching fire and starting to spread.

  He lifted his hands and tapped his fingers against my folds, spanking lightly. My head flew back and I shuddered. Jarl smiled down at me, gripping my bare breast and kneading it. Between his touch and Fenrir’s light slaps to my cunny, I felt like the sensation would tear me apart.

  “You are ours, Juliet. You belong to us.” Fenrir’s hand fell harder now, in a steady rhythm like the beat of a drum. Each smack drove me onward, toward that glorious place where pleasure would consume me. I cried out, writhing and grinding down, seeking that bliss and the blow to my cunny that would send me flying. As I rooted myself in the bed, I impaled myself further on the plug.

  And at last it caught, that wildfire. The flames spread and roared higher. Pleasure sco
rched me. I flew higher and higher, borne by the pleasure fueled by pain. My climax burned white hot, obliterating me.

  Strong hands caught my trembling body, bearing me back to earth. I found myself on my belly. As I scrambled up to hands and knees, Jarl cupped my face and crooned to me. Fenrir gripped my hips, stilling me. He pulled my lower half back against him until the iron hard muscle of his legs pressed against the backs of my thighs. The crisp hairs around his cock brushed my bottom.

  “It is time.” His hands parted my bottom cheeks. He shifted me forward so there was space and then, with a hand on my belly to steady me, he drew out the plug.

  I groaned as the widest part of the bulb stretched me. Then my bottom was empty, my hole clenching on air only for a moment before Fenrir inserted his hard fingers. He stretched me further and he must have used the oil, because it dripped down the backs of my thighs. My empty cunny prickled with need.

  “I’m going to claim your arse, little nun,” Fenrir murmured, his fingers thrusting into my bottom hole in a shameful rhythm. I moaned and dropped my forehead to the bed. Jarl gathered my hair back and stroked my scalp in soothing circles. Tingles spread up my spine, my body clenching in anticipation.

  “I’m going to master you fully. From the moment we found you in the abbey, I have wanted to claim you like this,” Fenrir kept fucking me with his fingers as he whispered. “If I had my way, I would’ve spread you out on the lawn and claimed you then, naked before your God and all the world.”

  I whimpered against the surge of arousal spurred by his words.

  “Imagine the torches burning all around,” he continued. “Imagine the moon bearing witness to your shame and your pleasure.” His fingers slid from my ass, replaced by the hard tip of his cock. He was bigger than the plug. Oh God, how could I bear it?

  “Bear down, Juliet,” Jarl ordered. “Push out and let him in.” His fingers reached under my chest to pluck my nipples. “Do it and we will let you cum.”

  I did as he bid, moaning as Fenrir slid inside. I felt pleasure churning deep in my belly even as my bottom hole stretched to its limits. Sweat slicked my back.