Serving My Viking Masters: Complete Series

by Serena Starling

  I’d never been bound so tightly before, and never with the gag. Panicking a bit, I struggled against my bindings. The ropes and cuffs bit deep, yet I couldn’t move. My thoughts raced as he moved around behind me.

  Barek stroked my buttocks gently, leaning over to place a soft kiss on my flesh. Then, without warning, he brought the paddle down hard. Pain exploded through my body as I cried out against the gag. I struggled, pulling hard against my bindings, trying to squirm away from his paddle.

  “Shh,” he admonished. “Don’t fight me, Kira.”

  He spanked me again, eliciting another choked scream from my throat. Tears coursed down my face, hitting the planks of the table below. I prayed each cruel bite of the paddle would be the last. I knew my poor buttocks must be red and swollen by now, but he continued on. How much more could I take?

  Mercifully, Barek allowed a reprieve. He reached between my spread legs to grasp the chain attached to the nipple clamps, giving it a tug as he ran the edge of the paddle over the slick folds of my womanhood. I whimpered, my slit clenching tight at the sensation as Barek pushed it just inside.

  I moaned, pleasure superseding my pain as Barek tugged harder on the nipple clamps. I felt my own wet juices running down my leg as he jabbed me with the paddle. I arched my back to open myself to him, eager for more pleasure, but was surprised when he drew back and spanked me again.

  The sound of wood on flesh reverberated through the room as I squirmed and cried out. “I own your pleasure,” he said harshly.

  I sobbed, nodding my acquiescence. Barek put the paddle down, breathing heavily, then I felt something cold and hard running up my inner thigh. One of the phalluses? He teased me with it, pushing it just inside as he tugged again on the nipple clamps, then swirled it around the small, swollen nub of flesh between my legs.

  Driven nearly mad with thwarted desire, I knew better than to push my buttocks toward him in supplication. That would only earn me another crack of the paddle. I had no choice but to lie unmoving on the table, allowing my master to do what he would with me.

  Barek pushed the phallus all the way in, the slickness of my tight folds allowing easy passage, and I cried out against the gag. A tug of the nipple clamps caused my womanhood to tighten around the hard phallus. He drove in forcefully several more times, filling me completely. I felt the buildup of pleasure deep in my core, but whimpered as he removed the phallus just before I reached the point of no return. Left cold and empty, my slit quivered involuntarily as my tears fell freely.

  He picked up the paddle and struck me with it. I expected it by now, nearly welcoming the pain as a distraction from my thwarted desire. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take.

  Barek drew the phallus up my slick womanhood again. But instead of driving it home, he instead circled the rim of my anus with it. He paused for a moment to smear a bit of grease on my flesh, and I held my breath for what would come next. Barek pushed the hard phallus just inside the rim of my anus, slowly forcing it a bit further as he gradually stretched me. Squirming with pain and pleasure, I had no choice but to accept the unforgiving object into my delicate flesh, the aching pressure almost too much to bear as he filled me with it.

  He positioned himself behind me, holding the phallus deep in my anus with one hand as he guided his cock into my hot slit with the other. I squealed as Barek filled me up completely with one brutal thrust, my body straining to accommodate his thick manhood with the phallus still buried deep in my anus.

  Barek rode me hard, pressing the phallus deeper as he reached between my legs to pull the chain attached to my nipples. “Now,” he commanded.

  My body exploded with pleasure. Screaming behind my gag, my wet slit quivered and gripped Barek’s cock as he impaled me from behind, drawing out several waves of ecstasy in rapid succession from deep in my core. I nearly blacked out as Barek finished, shooting his seed deep with a possessive grunt and a final, hard thrust.

  Faintly, I felt my master pull away, taking the phallus from me as well. The sudden emptiness felt strange and foreign. He unbound my legs and wrists, then unhooked my collar from the table. Barek gently turned me over to remove the nipple clamps. I whimpered as feeling rushed to the sensitive buds. Finally, he removed the gag.

  Barek folded me into his arms, and I sagged against his chest, completely spent. He stroked my hair for a long time as my mind drifted. This moment was all that mattered, and I belonged to Barek. I understood that truth as I understood nothing else.

  The words of love Drengr had professed earlier now seemed another lifetime ago. Who was I to think I deserved such a man? Barek was my master. I would never be anything other than his.

  “Do not open the chest again, Kira,” Barek said in a quiet voice.

  I nodded in my master’s arms. “Yes, my King.”

  He pulled away to look down at me, studying the tears still drying on my cheeks. Gently, he wiped one away. “You are mine, and you will always be so. But I need you to do something of grave importance.”

  I blinked up at him, then lowered my gaze. I feared I already knew what he wanted from me.

  “You will accompany the two sons of Mogr to Romheim in the morn. For one full day each moon, you will belong to Mogr and will obey him just as you obey me. They will return you to me after the day is through. All other days, you are mine and will only follow my commands. Do you understand?”

  I felt a sob well up in the back of my throat. Not trusting myself to speak, I could only nod.

  Barek’s gaze softened. “My sweet girl. It gives me great pain to think of Mogr touching you. But I owe him more than I can repay. He heard rumors of your charms and wanted you as his own, as complete payment of my debt. I could not give you up, so I sought a compromise with his sons today. Thora will wed one of Romheim’s princes once she is of age. Until that day comes, I will give you over to them once each moon.”

  Sniffling, I lowered my head in submission. “Yes, my King,” I whispered.

  “Please them well, lovely Kira,” Barek warned, placing a soft kiss upon the top of my head. “The future of Vikenmar depends upon it.”

  Book 4: Passion’s Price

  Morning arrived all too early, as much as I wished otherwise. The slave Helga entered the bedchamber with a soft click of the door, touching my foot gently so as not to awaken Barek slumbering beside me. Sick with anxiety of what the coming day would bring, I’d barely slept, and now my bleary eyes met hers as she stood at the foot of the bed.

  “King Barek instructed me to prepare your bath early,” the woman whispered. “He wishes you to depart with the sons of Mogr before the city awakens.”

  I studied Helga for a moment, the thrall whose father had been a king’s son. She bore a slight resemblance to her half-brother Drengr, the warrior I loved beyond reason but had spurned for his own safety. Yet she looked so much like Drengr’s sister Gisla, I’d done a double take upon meeting the woman the day before.

  Begotten by Drengr’s father—a long-dead prince of Vikenmar—Helga was a slave because her mother had been one. It mattered little that she shared blood ties with King Barek. She was treated well in Barek’s house, yet she was his property just as I was.

  A nagging question fluttered to mind. For several days, I’d harbored a faint suspicion I might be with child. I wasn’t sure by any means, but if true, another reason to not run away with my lover. A child would only hamper our journey, providing an opportunity for Barek to catch up with us and extract his revenge.

  But if I bore a child by Barek, would that child be a slave, or free? I’d been told by Asta that my womb would be my salvation; the only way I would find permanent favor with Barek would be to bear him a child. A male child, preferably.

  I could only wonder why Helga’s father had allowed his child to be born a slave. Had the mother not pleased her prince well enough to cause him to free her and her babe?

  Silently, I arose from the bed and wrapped myself in a blanket against the morning chill. Helga pulled
a fresh shift and gown from my chest of clothing, then stirred the coals of the dying fire to warm the room for Barek. I followed her through the quiet house and outside into the fresh air.

  “Drengr came to me in the night,” she whispered as I walked beside her. “He was distraught.”

  My chest became uncomfortably tight at the thought of Drengr and how I’d hurt him. I’d sent away my fierce warrior, the only Northman I trusted, crushing his heart in order to spare his life. My love. How I wished there could be a future for us.

  I blinked away tears. “You know as well as I do it is too dangerous for Drengr and I to be together,” I replied. “No matter our feelings.”

  Helga placed a hand atop my arm to stop me. “You do love him, then?”

  I’d said too much. Releasing a heavy sigh, my gaze was unwavering as I met Helga’s stone grey eyes, so like her brother’s. “I am a slave. I am Barek’s slave. To wish for anything more would put Drengr in harm’s way. Surely you don’t want him hurt, Helga. For his own sake, do not allow Drengr to endanger himself. I beg you.”

  Bathed, perfumed, and dressed in my finest silk gown, I reentered the grand longhouse alone. My golden tresses hung loose down my back like a maiden, my eyes unadorned of their usual kohl. Asta typically helped me with my grooming, but the woman had staunchly refused to prepare me as a sacrificial lamb for the sons of Mogr. She had yet to emerge from her bedchamber this morn. It was just as well. My tears would only smudge the kohl.

  The great hall was empty save for Barek and the Romheim princes. Barek sat in his carved chair, barefoot, wearing nothing but his breeches and a fur around his shoulders. Hair unkempt and face grizzled, he pierced me with his icy blue gaze as I entered the room. I stood before the three men, eyes lowered and hands clasped, awaiting my instructions as the bile in my belly threatened to rise.

  I shifted nervously as the silence dragged on. Why wouldn’t Barek speak? Had he changed his mind—would he refuse to give me over to the sons of Mogr after all?

  “One day,” he finally ground out, his voice quavering with helpless rage as he pounded his fist upon the table. “Tomorrow morn she will be returned to me. If she is marked or injured in any way, the agreement is forfeit.” Even with my head lowered, I saw him turn angrily to both the princes. “Do you understand?”

  “Of course,” one of the twins murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Your thrall will be returned in the morn, just as we agreed. My father is very pleased with this arrangement, King Barek. Your generosity will not go unrecognized.”

  I heard the scowl in Barek’s voice as he continued. “This girl is worth more to me than any treasure. I will have your word—both of you—that not a hair on her head will be harmed.”

  I hid my surprise at how Barek claimed to care for me. Wasn’t it only the night before he’d trussed me up upon his table and paddled me to within an inch of my life? I was certain my backside still retained the reddened evidence of his ‘discipline’.

  “You have our word.” The melodic-voiced twin rose to clasp Barek’s arm, followed in turn by his brother.

  “Erik. Vakr.” Barek addressed each in turn. “I have instructed Kira to please your father well this day. Her beauty is unsurpassed by any woman in the land. Her body is ripe and nubile. She has been trained to obey every command, and may appear to enjoy Mogr’s attentions. But make no mistake: Kira is mine, and she will always be so. I will never give up what is mine.” He turned his back on them harshly, waving them away. “Now go. I will await your return in the morn.”

  I was not given my own horse to ride as I had on the journey I’d taken the day before to the steading of Drengr’s sister. Instead, I was hoisted up to ride in front of one of the twins, who wrapped a strong forearm around my waist to keep me in place. I made the mistake of glancing over to the other twin as his horse danced impatiently to depart. The scarred one met my gaze with a lascivious smile, adjusting his manhood in his breeches before he kicked his horse into a gallop.

  We rode more quickly than I was accustomed to, and I was grateful to be held in the firm grasp of the twin whose steed I shared. But my gratitude was short lived. He pulled me tighter and tighter against him, so that with every jolt of the horse I felt his hard erection pressed into my buttocks. Shifting me slightly, so my hips contacted his thighs more than they did the saddle, he swooped his arm under my skirts. I squirmed in protest, but was too afraid of falling to put up much of a struggle.

  Following the movements of the horse beneath us, he waited until my body rose slightly. As I came back down, his hand was there to greet my bare flesh. I gasped as his strong hand cradled my womanhood. He chuckled in my ear as one of his long fingers slipped inside my tight folds. Then another.

  Oh. With each stride of the horse, I helplessly rode his thrusting fingers. My cheeks flushed at the unexpected violation, but the more I tried to writhe away, the more pleasure I experienced. Despite myself, an ache began deep in my core, craving more. My slit grew hot and eager with each jab, and a moan escaped my lips as the horse maneuvered over a fallen log, driving the intrusive fingers deeper.

  But my release was not to be. The scarred twin reigned his horse to a stop near a babbling brook, then dismounted. The brother I rode with stopped as well. The thrusting of his fingers ceased as the horse danced under us. I whimpered in protest, impaled, now nearly desperate for climax.

  “This will do well enough,” the scarred brother ground out. He tied his horse to a tree, then turned to lift me down.

  His incredulous gaze followed his brother’s arm where it had disappeared under my billowing skirts. My traitorous body clenched hard around the offending fingers still inside me, quivering for more despite my embarrassment.

  “You started without me, Erik!”

  Erik laughed behind me. Removing his hand from my womanhood, he examined his fingers, slick with my juices. “Indeed I did, Vakr. Did you think I’d let you be first?”

  Erik licked his fingers with gusto. “Delicious,” he informed his brother. “As sweet as honey.” Suddenly, Erik’s wet fingers were pushed into my mouth. “Lick them clean, little thrall,” he ordered.

  I sucked at the fingers, the salty sweet taste of my own juices not unpleasant, as his brother paced furiously below.

  “Enough!” Vakr cried. He pulled me from the horse and began to drag me toward the copse of trees.

  “Wait,” Erik chuckled as he tied up his horse. “If you stain her gown, father will know what we’ve done.” Erik swept his cloak upon a large fallen log. “Come here, Kira,” he commanded.

  I complied, albeit with growing alarm. I was supposed to be delivered to Mogr to do with as he pleased, which I was sure would eventually include pleasuring his sons. But it seemed the brothers were intent upon ravaging me before their father had even set eyes upon me. Would Mogr be furious when he found out?

  Erik moved behind me, one large hand stroking over my hip and buttocks, the other moving up to cup my breast. He squeezed and kneaded the firm mound as he nuzzled into my neck, biting at my earlobe, his erection like a block of wood against the small of my back. As his fingers found my nipple, pinching it hard through the fabric of my gown, I felt the interior muscles of my womanhood clench in anxious anticipation.

  Vakr strode to the other side of the log, facing me. With an impatient grunt, he grasped my shoulders to pull me down so I lay over it, my face inches from the large bulge in his breeches. As the scarred brother hastened to unleash his manhood, Erik slid his hands down my legs to lift my skirts up and over my hips, exposing my buttocks and hot slit, wet and quivering with need.

  “Beautiful,” Erik murmured, cupping my buttocks appreciatively. “Open yourself to me, Kira.”

  I spread my legs wider, arching my back to present my tight holes to Erik, wondering which he would claim. His brother, finally getting the better of the laces of his breeches, grasped me by the hair to guide my mouth toward his erect member. His meaty cock loomed before me, thick and ropy with veins, a
drop of moisture on the purple tip. I opened wide as he pushed himself into my mouth.

  Vakr gripped my head and began to pump. His surprisingly large manhood threatened to choke me, and I sputtered slightly, then focused on relaxing my throat as he drove deep. I felt a hard pressure against my slick, trembling womanhood, then an incredible fullness as Erik sheathed himself inside me with one long, possessive thrust.

  He began to move aggressively behind me, matching his brother’s tempo, so my body was pummeled without mercy at each end by their stiff cocks. Belly and breasts pressed hard against the log, I was glad for the cloak that protected the front of my gown from the rough wood.

  Without missing a thrust, Erik spread my buttocks wide to circle his thumb around the rim of my anus. I squealed and squirmed as it intruded just inside my most sensitive flesh, piercing me in a maddening rhythm that threatened to take me over the edge.

  Vakr’s cock stiffened in my mouth and I knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Groaning, he thrust a hand down the front of my gown to pinch and twist my nipples as he shot his hot seed into my mouth. I sobbed gratefully, my cries muffled by his pulsating cock, as my own climax finally crashed around me like a storm at sea. My body bucked wildly with my release, drawn out even further as Erik thrust his entire thumb deep into my anus. As I milked the last of Vakr’s salty seed with my lips and tongue, Erik finally released me to move around the log next to his brother. My womanhood quivered in protest at the sudden emptiness.

  “Move aside, brother,” he said to Vakr. “I too have a load for her to swallow.”

  I licked the last of Vakr’s seed from my lips just before my mouth was filled again with Erik’s thick member. He drove deep, nearly gagging me, gripping my hair so I couldn’t turn away. I felt his manhood stiffen even further as he cried out, throwing his head back as he shot his seed down my throat. I squirmed, sputtering as he continued to thrust, the hot juice dripping down my chin as he filled my mouth to overflowing.