Serving My Viking Masters: Complete Series

by Serena Starling

  “And I you, Thora.”

  “Who is this?” the child asked, drawing suspicious brows together as she studied me from Drengr’s arms.

  “This is Kira. Your father’s thrall. I am to bring her to Asta for food, a bath and fresh clothing.”

  My hands clasped before me, I kept my face lowered in the submissive posture I’d quickly learned to adopt. I could feel the gaze of the two females upon me.

  “She is very beautiful,” Thora said finally.

  “Yes,” Drengr agreed. “And your father wishes her treated well.” The note of warning in his voice gave me pause. Did he have reason to think the child would not treat her father’s slave well?

  Asta stepped closer, hooking her finger under my chin to gently pull my gaze to hers. “Do you speak Norse?” she asked.

  “I do…Mistress,” I responded, not quite sure what to call her.

  The woman smiled. “You may call me Asta, child. I am a thrall the same as you are. Come, we will have the bath prepared while I see about a new gown for you.”

  Drengr left me with Asta and I followed her through the house into a large kitchen area, where several slaves were working. I carried the chain that was still attached to my collar to keep from stepping on it. Asta instructed one of the slaves to prepare the bath for me, and the woman hastened to obey. I couldn’t help but stare. If Asta was a slave as she’d claimed, why did she have such power in Barek’s house? And why was she allowed to go about without a collar?

  Asta grabbed a small loaf of bread from a dozen cooling on the table, and handed it to me without a word. My stomach growled as I looked to her for permission to eat. She pursed her lips, shaking her head as she spoke. “Eat it, child. You don’t have to carry on like that when Barek isn’t here.”

  I gratefully tore off a warm chunk, chewing as we walked through the main room and into a bedchamber. Judging by the familiar way Asta moved about in it, it appeared to be her own personal chamber. Asta knelt beside a large trunk, flipping it open to reveal numerous folded gowns. She lifted one out, cornflower blue silk trimmed in brocade, then held it up near my face, studying me with a shrewd eye.

  “Yes, this will do nicely. It matches your eyes and makes your hair gleam like spun gold. Barek will be pleased. Do you need a shift as well?”

  I nodded, unable to take my eyes off the beautiful gown that was to be mine. Never in my dreams had I seen anything so lovely.

  “Very well, I have several extra shifts. We will have to make a new wardrobe for you right away. Barek should not grow tired of seeing you in the same gown, day after day.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered. Tears sprang to my eyes at her kindness, and I hastily blinked them away.

  Asta’s smile was sympathetic. “I know you’re frightened, child. I was the bed thrall of Barek’s father, King Haukr, for many years. I raised Barek after his mother died. He is a good man, although you might not see it now. He will treat you well as long as you do nothing to dishonor him. If you do…” She trailed off, shaking her head in warning as though she feared to tell me what the outcome would be.

  I flushed, my eyes fluttering to hers. “I tried to run away the day he captured me. He punished me.” Shivering, I drew in a deep breath. “I would do anything to keep him happy.”

  “How did he punish you?”

  I bit my lip. “He gave me to his men.”

  Asta nodded sadly. “Oh, my child. I am sorry you were made to endure that. Have you bled since then?”

  “Yes,” I whispered in response. I’d bled on the ship.

  “Good.” Asta’s expression was relieved. “If he gets you with child there must be no question as to who planted the seed. This is the way you will find favor, you see—your womb will be your only salvation. Five of Barek’s children died along with his wife two years ago. Thora and his son Tannr are all that survived. If you have any hope of ever getting rid of this,” she gently tugged on the chain attached to my collar, “You must give him a child.”

  I waited nervously in King Barek’s bedchamber. I’d bathed in a tub filled with hot water, the most luxurious experience of my life, then sat patiently as Asta and another slave combed and styled my hair into a crown of braids atop my head. Part of my hair had been left out to curl about my shoulders and down my back. Asta had carefully painted black around my eyes, top and bottom, with a tiny brush dipped in water and then into dark powder.

  But the most wonderful part was putting on the blue gown. It fit well enough, even though I was a bit shorter than Asta and had larger breasts. The slippery silk was sensual against my fingers as I rubbed the embroidered fabric. I felt like a princess.

  A princess with a slave collar around her neck.

  Barek’s bedchamber was luxurious, the focal point of which was a massive bed piled high with furs and pillows. A large trunk sat at the foot of the bed, with a half dozen other trunks lining the walls along the floor. A small hearth burned in the center of the room, surrounded by a planked table, several chairs and a reclining bench, as though the king was wont to hold counsel in his private chamber. There were no windows in the space, but holes had been cut into the vaulted ends of the room to let the smoke out and daylight in.

  Oddly, there were two doors in the bedchamber; one that led to the main room—the door from which I’d entered—and another on the opposite wall. A heavy latch locked it tight. Where did it lead? A smaller latch was in the center of the door, which I suspected was a peephole. I stared at it hesitantly. If it was a door to another chamber or a storage space, why would it need a peephole?

  My curiosity finally got the better of me. I slid the small latch over, raising up on tiptoe to look out the peephole. Daylight and fresh air streamed in, as well as the sound of voices in the distance. I slid the latch back quickly. Why did Barek have a door to the outside in his private chamber?

  I heard footsteps outside the main bedchamber door. Hastening to the middle of the room, I dropped to my knees with my head lowered submissively. As loath as I was to spoil the beautiful gown, I knew to follow Barek’s instruction to be on my knees for him when he came to me.

  The door thudded closed, and I heard the sound of the heavy latch drawing across the wood. I recognized Barek’s boots as he stopped before me, but he was quiet. My belly knotted. Had I done something to displease him?

  “Rise, Kira,” he said finally. “Rise and look at me.”

  I stood, slowly lifting my eyes to his. A strange mix of anger and desire played across his features. His hungry gaze devoured me, traveling from my face to my body, lingering on my breasts where they stretched the blue silk taut. Barek’s breathing quickened, and he adjusted his manhood in his breeches.

  “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he said raggedly. “And the talk of Vikenmar as well, my sweet. Everyone who saw you arrive with Drengr has commented on your beauty—your golden hair, your eyes the color of a summer sky.”

  Barek stepped closer. “How would they know what color your eyes were? Unless you looked at them without my permission?”

  I felt dizzy with fear. Had I looked at anyone? Only Drengr, Asta, and Barek’s little daughter Thora. No one else. I blinked back tears, but knew better than to try to protest my innocence. It would only make things worse, as Barek did not tolerate any argumentation on my part. “I am sorry, my King,” I whispered.

  “Get undressed,” he said gruffly. “Unless you want the gown ruined.”

  Shaking, I removed my gown, shift, shoes and stockings. I stood before him, hands clasped, awaiting my punishment. The chain of my collar snaked between my breasts, cold against my naked skin.

  Barek strode to the large trunk at the foot of the bed, flipping the lid open. He removed several items and placed them on the bed, but I didn’t raise my eyes to see what they were. “Come here,” he ordered.

  I complied, standing before him. He took my wrists and bound them in front of me in tight leather cuffs, then attached them to the chain about my neck. He pul
led another, longer chain from the items he’d removed from the trunk, attaching it to a ring of the cuffs. Leading me me to the bed, Barek bent me over with my buttocks high and my face in the furs, stretching my arms as far as they would go to firmly affix the end of the chain to what seemed to be a hook on the other side of the bed.

  He stood, examining my legs, then spread them farther apart until my ankles hit what felt like a post on either side. Kneeling, he affixed a leather cuff to each ankle, strapping me tightly to the posts.

  “Try to get away,” he ordered.

  I squirmed, wiggling and pulling against my bindings, but they held tight. Barek watched me struggle for a few moments, rubbing himself through his breeches with a look of satisfaction. “Stop,” he said finally.

  My heart hammered in fear and excitement as I waited, bound, exposed and completely defenseless. Despite myself, my vulnerable slit grew hot in anticipation. What would he do to me?

  He walked back to the end of the bed, picking up the items he’d removed from the trunk, one by one. I couldn’t help but look this time. A board, larger on one end and tapering on the other to a smaller handle. And several long, smooth objects of various sizes that appeared to be phalluses carved from ivory or whale bone.

  “I want to spoil you, Kira. I want to give you everything your heart desires. And all I ask in return is your complete obedience. Is that so much, then?”

  “No, my King,” I choked out.

  He picked up the board, smacking it against his palm. I jumped at the sound, causing the chains to rattle. Barek slowly drew the end of the paddle up the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, then rubbed the corner of the smooth wood against the folds of my exposed slit, pushing it just inside. Already wet, I felt all the tiny muscles of my womanhood clench tight around the paddle.

  Without warning, Barek pulled back and whacked my buttocks hard. Yelping, I jumped involuntarily, but he grabbed my hips to keep me still. “Quiet,” he commanded, then smacked me again.

  My wrists strained against the cuffs with each spank, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out again. Barek’s heavy hand pressed my face and breasts into the furs I lay upon, keeping me completely still. Over and over, the cruel plank smacked my delicate flesh, until I feared I could take no more.

  He paused at last, leaving me gasping. Was he finished?

  He ran his free hand over the three differently sized phalluses. I held my breath when he selected the largest one. My womanhood was hot, throbbing for attention, but Barek walked around to the side of the bed nearest my face, pulling my hair back to raise my head from the furs. “Open,” he demanded.

  I complied, opening my mouth for the phallus. Barek pushed the heavy, smooth object into my mouth, gagging me with its size. It was massive, every bit as big as Drengr’s manhood, but unlike a male cock which gives somewhat, this was as hard and as unforgiving as stone. It was all I could do to breathe as he assaulted my mouth with the thick phallus.

  His own breath sounded ragged as he finally removed the phallus from my mouth and moved around behind me. I nearly sobbed in relief, arching my back to present my fragile flesh to him in supplication. Barek lifted my hips even higher, spreading the cheeks of my buttocks, still hot and sore from the thorough paddling I’d endured just moments ago, to drag the thick tip of the phallus across the wet, swollen lips of my womanhood.

  He pushed it just inside, twisting as he applied pressure to the massive object in order to enter my tight folds. I cried out, straining against my bindings, panting in excitement and pain when he finally forced it to fit. Barek pushed me down harder, rough fingers gripping my neck from behind, as he thrust the thick phallus all the way in, stretching me beyond reason.

  Squealing into the furs, there was nothing I could do to stop the relentless assault as he drove in vigorously, the wet sound of my womanhood sucking at the phallus with each brutal thrust. I squirmed, straining against the bite of the cuffs at my wrists and ankles, and the bite of the phallus between my legs. Barek released my neck to spank me again, this time with his bare hand, without breaking his rhythm as he worked the phallus.

  I felt the buildup in my belly as my muscles clenched the phallus hard. Barek’s thumb circled my anus, slick with the slippery cream of my womanhood. He pushed the tip of his thumb inside as he again drove the phallus deep into my throbbing slit, as far as it would go.

  Pleasure exploded through my body, wracking me with exquisite torture as his thumb forced its way inside me. I screamed, my folds clenching tight around the phallus as he thrust over and over. Barek drew out my release expertly, demanding my pleasure despite my pain, then finally removed his thumb as well as the hard object from my body.

  I sagged toward the bed in exhaustion, soft moans still emanating from my lips.

  He walked around to the front of me, again lifting my head from the furs. His manhood was loosed from his breeches, jutting expectantly toward my face.

  I opened without being told to, and he pushed himself into my mouth, all the way in. I sputtered, focusing on relaxing my throat so I could handle his size. Barek held my head still as he thrust with gusto, nearly gagging me with his thick, heavily veined cock.

  He didn’t take long to finish. After several more thrusts, he cried out and pumped his hot seed into the back of my throat. Barek gripped my face until he’d ensured I’d swallowed it, then finally released me.

  I sagged onto the bed, sore and spent, my unfocused gaze turned toward the wall. Barek sat next to me to gently brush aside a lock of hair from my cheek. “Now, sweet Kira,” he said in a quiet voice, “Will you keep your eyes lowered when I tell you to?”

  “Yes, my King,” I answered.

  The feast was loud and long, an uproarious celebration of King Barek’s successful raid upon Ireland. Many slaves had been captured as well as livestock, food, weapons and treasure. When boasting of the bounty he’d procured from my people to the eager people of Vikenmar, I kept my eyes lowered lest I enrage him again, but also to be sure I showed no emotion on my face at all that had been stolen from my homeland.

  I sat gingerly at one of the tables in the large, smoky hall, tucked in on a bench between Asta and Thora, wishing to be anywhere but here. My backside was so sore I could not find a comfortable position. And after the thorough pounding I’d been received at the hands of Barek, Asta had been forced to restyle my hair and wipe off the black soot from my eyes in order to redraw the lines.

  Barek’s punishment had exhausted me, and I wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball in a quiet corner and be left alone. Listening to these Northmen feast and carry on at the expense of my own people seemed too much to bear. But Barek had insisted on my presence at the feast.

  He droned on, forcing me to keep a pleasant look on my face despite myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Barek raise his cup high as he leaned forward in his huge, ornate chair, clearly looking to me. My cheeks heated as all eyes turn to me expectantly.

  “To my lovely Kira, the most beautiful treasure of all,” Barek boomed proudly. “She is sunlight and rain and warm, sweet earth, not unlike Ireland itself. I have never enjoyed a woman so much as when plowing her delectable fields.”

  My flush deepened as his audience laughed and clapped, raising their own cups to drink deeply in honor of my ‘delectable fields’. I forced a smile in the king’s direction. Tannr, Barek’s son, slammed his cup down on the table without drinking, clearly still upset at the fact his prize had been stolen by his father.

  “Do not pout, boy,” Barek exclaimed with a long chuckle. “She is a stubborn thrall, requiring much discipline. You wouldn’t have been able to tame her.”

  The crowd erupted again into laughter, causing a red-faced Tannr to skulk from the room, mumbling angrily under his breath.

  Asta patted my hand but said nothing. I knew she’d been uncomfortable seeing my reddened buttocks when she’d returned to Barek’s bedchamber to help me dress for the feast. How much did she know about Barek’s unusual predile
ctions?

  The revelry continued well into the night. Thora fell asleep with her blonde head pillowed on her arms, slumbering deeply despite the noise. Asta rose to oversee the kitchen slaves, but bade me to remain with Thora lest she awaken. I sat, sipping a cup of ale and doing my best to stay awake, when I felt someone sit beside me.

  It wasn’t Asta. I recognized the massive forearm leaning on the table only inches from my own. Drengr. My pulse quickened at his presence, the warm masculine scent of him making my breath hitch in my chest.

  Lifting his cup to his lips, Drengr spoke to me without turning in my direction. “I must leave in the morn to visit with my sister for a short time. If you have need of me before I return, get word to the thrall woman Helga. She can be trusted; no one else.”

  I drew in a shaky breath. What did he mean, ‘if you have need of me’? Was he offering to protect me from Barek somehow? Or was the need he spoke of more of a carnal need?

  I turned my face to him ever so slightly, still keeping my gaze to the planks of the table. “Thank you,” was all I could manage.

  He drank deeply of his ale, dropping the hand nearest me into his lap as he did so. Suddenly his hand covered my own under the table, large and warm, stroking his calloused fingers over my skin. I remembered those large hands on my body the night Barek had ordered him to punish me, how the calluses on his fingers had felt when he’d caressed the eager folds of my womanhood. A soft sound escaped my lips at the memory, with an answering heat at the juncture of my thighs.

  Then without another word he was gone, moving his way through the crowd of people milling about the large hall as he headed for the door. Almost against my will, I raised my gaze to watch him go; needing one last glimpse of the man I desired above all others, no matter the consequences. Head and shoulders above the crowd, Drengr was easily visible, and he turned when he reached the door as though he also needed a last glimpse of me.

  Our eyes met. The actual moment lasted only seconds, but seemed an eternity.