Breeding Sex Stories

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Breeding Sex Stories Page 6

by Lexi Lane


  Tabitha looked at Astrid who just looked stunned. The old woman went to the wall, pulled out a rock and opened the doorway that none of them had been able to see. Peeking inside Tabitha felt Astrid’s surprise deepening just like her own.

  Inside the place was incredibly clean and there was evidence that once it had been a thriving village. The keep was large and there was a smithy located near it. The place was empty, the fire out but it was obvious that it had been cared for.

  The sense of desolation remained though. The women all flapped their hands at the men and Tabitha and the walked through the large inner gates and into a small area where it was apparent that horses had once been. There was still a faint but recognizable scent of the beasts there.

  “What is it?” Tabitha asked.

  Leif turned his eyes to her and answered before Astrid could, “All their men are dead. Either war or plague took them and there are no children either. It’s strange.”

  The women took them into a long hall and instantly began to work. Food appeared as if by magic and though it was cold: boiled venison and bread and creamy chunks of a smooth white cheese, it was tasty and good.

  The men kept looking around and Astrid could see speculation in their eyes. Forty seven men had ridden across the seas with him hoping to make a fortune and here sat one, waiting. The gold on the ship could not compare to a snug keep and a well-stocked larder. It was easy to understand that the women hid the food and other belongings because they had no other way to protect themselves. Occasionally one of them would slide a hand across man’s shoulder or back, giggle and dash off.

  The old woman said something and firewood was brought in and a large roaring fire was soon lit in the fireplace that took up one entire wall. Most of the men began to relax but Astrid didn’t, there was something off about the whole scene, something too easy and perfect.

  He beckoned to the youngest of his men, Leif’s eldest son Shamus, and whispered to him to go to the shore and to tell the men there to be alert and to come back and report to him what they said and if they were in good health. The young man did not have to be told to use his discretion, Astrid was pleased to note. He waited for the arrival of a large platter of meat to divert everyone’s attention and faded like steam.

  The women passed around strong and sweet mead. Tabitha sipped at it and politely smiled. It was too strong and syrupy for her palate, she was used to rich and complex wines grown from grapes and the honey concoction left her tongue feeling furred and thick so she pretended to drink from the horn and passed it instead.

  Unbeknownst to Tabitha Astrid was also passing on the mead. A quick glance at Leif and a few others showed him they were as well. Good, not all of them were falling prey to whatever ruse was being played here. Astrid would have left immediately but he needed supplies or his crew would starve or, worse, die of thirst on an enormous body of water.

  Many of the women vanished, a fact that made the men who had been previously caught up in the thought that the keep needed a king to suddenly sit up taller and take some note of their surroundings but that alertness was brief. The women came back, freshly bathed and still nude, their pale bodies glowing in the orange and scarlet shadows cast by the enormous fire.

  Tabitha, too used to the inner workings of the harem knew exactly which women were well-versed in the arts of sex just by watching them. Few were awkward and hesitant but others were bold and overt in their desires. One of the men roared and grabbed one woman: a luscious redhead with a small waist and large breasts and sat her on his lap. Tabitha turned away as the two began to paw at each other right there at the table.

  The mead made the rounds again and she began to feel slightly sick. She knew it could not be the wine, she had eaten though and as she tilted her glance to her plate she saw a thin scummy film on the wooden trencher.

  Frantically she whispered something in Astrid’s ear and he smiled as he nodded. Soon both they and Leif as well as a few others made excuses to visit the jakes and when she came back Tabitha was even more dizzy and out of sorts.

  The women had begun to clap their hands and do a fast dance, some of the men danced with them. The smell of the alcohol hazed everything and the flames roared hotter and higher, making sweat break out on her brow.

  People were coupling everywhere and she felt unsteady on her feet when Astrid turned to her and whispered, “We must do something to prevent a massacre. Leif will do what he must and you and I will create a diversion if we can.”

  “Massacre?”

  “They belong to Cybele.” Astrid said grimly. “The goddess of the fields. If we don’t escape the men will become their new bridegrooms and be burned at the pyre as an offering. The men are likely all in hiding waiting for us to succumb to their wiles.”

  Leif leaned close and whispered, “When Shamus came back from the boats he found the chicken coops and a large granary. There is a long river not too far from the north side of the shore, he went back and told the other men so they are collecting what they can there now.”

  “Your son is a man for other men to look to.” It was the highest compliment a Viking could bestow and Leif knew it. “Aye he is.”

  Tabitha stared at Astrid when he leaned into her ear and whispered to her. She had never ever been asked to do what he was asking of her but she nodded her head, knowing that their very lives depended upon it.

  If the women there were able to charm it was a rudimentary charm that had nothing on the ways Tabitha had been taught. She stripped down to her blouse and nodded to Astrid who began to keen in a low soft tone, a type of music they had worked out together in his cabin so she could dance for him. The sound caused men to look up and Tabitha began to dance.

  Her hands rose gracefully, her body bent backwards until her head touched the floor and her hips gyrated wildly from side-to-side as she straightened back up and shimmied her way across the room. Her hips thrust up and down in isolated movements that drew every eye, even the eyes of the women. A few men continued to rut, too lost in the drugged wine and the heat to pay attention but most of the room had their eyes riveted on her.

  Her hair swirled, liquid ebony in the firelight and there were long sighs from the audience as she shook her breasts free from the blouse, still gyrating her hips in a mesmerizing way guaranteed to keep the focus there.

  When she stood naked, her breasts swaying and her shoulders pumping back and forth as she thrust her breasts at Astrid’s face there was spontaneous applause from a few. Her long arms swept over her head and he quickened the pace, driving her faster and faster. Her bare feet barely skimmed the floor and she bent and swayed left and right, her body a slender reed and her movements an obvious plea for her lover to ravish her body.

  Finally Astrid made a low call in his throat and she dropped to her knees, her hands up in the symbol of surrender. The crowd grew even more silent and the hall echoed with his words. Even those who did not speak the language understood the intention if not the meaning.

  “This woman is mine and bends to my will no matter what it is I ask from her, her body is mine as is her heart and soul and mind. I will show you.”

  Astrid knew what would come next would be hard for her but not for him, his cock was already rigid and thick. He could feel it tenting against the fabric of his kilt. Puffing out his chest Astrid snapped his fingers at her. Instantly Tabitha assumed the position, presenting herself to him. The pink of her pussy lips gleamed below the thick mat of her pubic hair and the crowd sat silent, stricken by the solemnity and eroticism of the moment.

  Astrid slid a knee between her legs and she opened them further, saying nothing. His fingers stroked down her ass cheeks, splitting them apart like the halves of a peach so that he could dip his fingers into her slippery folds. That she could be ready for him, wet and hot despite the situation, heightened his desire.

  Tabitha closed her eyes, allowing everything but his touch to fade away. He pulled his oily fingers out of her slit and then rubbed her juices onto the pucke
red seam of her asshole, he did that again and again and the crowd began to murmur at the forbidden act.

  Astrid had told her that the peoples he knew did not engage in that act long before but it was one she enjoyed and now, as he prepared to take her in that way, she understood how sacred this was to him even if it was happening at a moment like this.

  Astrid bent his head and blew his breath against the wetness, making her hips buck in desire. He caressed her with a finger then rubbed her stickiness on the head of his cock and spread it down the shaft, hoping to ease his entry into her hot tunnel.

  Tabitha smiled when she felt the press of his hot flesh against that tiny ring of muscle. She relaxed her muscles, closing out everything but him—his scent and the feel of his cock moving against her then entering her, slowly, so very slowly—and desire filled her as he slid inside inch by inch.

  There were cries of shock and muted moans of desire from those watching as Astrid took her. Tabitha’s knees scraped cold stone and her nipples ached from the chill of the floor but those were small in comparison to the pleasure she felt.

  He filled her so full she had to grit her teeth and relax her legs and ass to allow him deeper penetration. He stayed there, buried inside her but not moving for long seconds. Her body ached for more and he withdrew just as she became certain that she would die of a sweet torment. He thrust back into her, no longer able to resist the allure of her warm, tight channel. It was hot and deep and so tight it clung to his cock like a glove. Silken flesh caressed his member and he began to swell with an impending orgasm.

  He reached around her waist and rubbed at the hard bud of her clit. Tabitha cried out, her body arching and thrashing below his, her pleasure visible to all. Come dripped from pussy and ran down her legs to the stones below. She shuddered and sobbed in release and Astrid grit his teeth and drove harder and faster into her until his own orgasm blasted through him and his seed splattered wetly into her hole.

  There was no time to enjoy the afterglow. Leif, Shamus and the others had succeeded in rousing the men and they all stood ready, if slightly wobbly and a little dumbfounded, to fight. The sex scene between Tabitha and Astrid had allowed some of the men to slip away and find the hidden men of the village. They glowered at the Northmen who held broadswords and battle-axes to their throats and the women keened as they were shoved against the wall as well.

  “We won’t kill you though you deserve it.” Astrid doubted they would understand but he felt the need to say it anyway, “But if we ever pass this way again know we are aware of you and will warn others to stay away too.”

  They backed out of the keep. The villagers seemed to be disappointed but not angered. Leif, casting a look over his shoulder as they ran down the hill toward the boats wondered aloud why that was.

  “Because while they would have loved to have a foreigner for their sacrifice, and a score or so would have made their fields even more fertile, they are willing to sacrifice one of their own if need be. It’s all the same to them. Barbarians, Tabitha thought just as Astrid spoke that word aloud.

  They set sail, fresh water and food now onboard and all of them quiet and thoughtful. Astrid found Tabitha sitting on the deck, staring out at the water with a pensive look on her face and he sat alongside her, taking her hand gently into his.

  “Do you miss your home?”

  “I do, but not because it was my home, because I understood it.”

  “Could you understand mine?”

  “As long as you are beside me,” Tabitha whispered.

  The words struck Astrid straight to the heart. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers gently, one by one. “I love you, you are mine now and forever and I will always be by your side. That is my blood oath.”

  He took his short dirk from his belt and cut into first his finger then hers. He then pressed their fingers together and allowed their blood to mingle.

  “I am yours now and forever, no matter what your commands. I love you too, always.”

  Their lips met in a kiss so fierce it left them both gasping and Astrid pulled her close to his broad chest, relishing her warmth and marveling at her courage and beauty. To think, he had sailed across such a stormy sea to find something like her, it was unimaginable and yet utterly right.

  ***

  A month later Tabitha stood at the rail, staring at the misted green lands rising up from the sea. For a moment her heart cried out for the hot dry sands and neutral colors of her homeland’s landscape but then Astrid put an arm across her shoulders and she smiled. She had been born to serve and wherever her master went she would follow.

  She smiled, thinking how odd it was that she had never felt so completely owned in her life, yet so very free.

  Revenge Of The Barbarians: Reluctant Virgin Sex Slaves

  Revenge Of The Barbarians © 2013, Lexi Lane, Lovers Lane Publishing

  Isolda felt the tremor of the hoof beats on the ground before she heard the sounds of the approaching riders. She looked up from where she knelt in the newly plowed field, the seeds in her hand spilling onto the soil.

  From the edge of the forest she saw several horses rapidly approaching. They were huge beasts and each carried a rider wielding a weapon. Isolda watched as the first riders crossed a low stonewall at the edge of the fields, heading toward the cluster of buildings at the center of the village.

  Three riders continued into the field. Isolda watched in frozen horror as one rider, with a thunderous scream, overtook the villager who had been leading the plow horse through the field. With one mighty swing of his sword, the barbarian cut the man down, the lifeless body falling to the plowed earth.

  Isolda whimpered in fear, turning, trying to run away from the thundering horses, from the barbarians riding them. But her feet caught in the soft earth and she stumbled. She heard the snorting of a horse behind her and then a strong arm was pulling her up.

  She was slung across the back of a massive black horse, held firmly by a large man, pressed against his legs. She could see nothing but the horse’s belly and the ground flying by in a blur of greens and dull shades of brown. Soon they were crashing through the trees, branches slapping against her head, shoulders and bare legs.

  After what felt like eternity, the man reined his horse. She could hear other horses approaching, shouts and calls between the men, and she was pulled from the horse and dropped to the ground. They were in a small clearing, the men moving with purpose, pulling ropes from some of the horses.

  Another rider approached and Isolda’s younger sister, Gisela, was dropped to the ground with a heavy thud next to her. Isolda pulled her sister into her arms, holding her trembling body against hers in a protective embrace.

  One of the barbarians, a tall man with long blonde hair, walked over, looking down at them. Isolda met his eyes, and then quickly looked away. He knelt down, fingering her hair, then ran his hand over her breasts, squeezing and fondling each one, gently and then more ruggedly.

  “Nice, very nice. Clean, pretty face…soft skin. Good for breeding; and certainly good for bedding.”

  Isolda slapped his hand away, glaring at him. He grabbed her arm, twisting her wrist. She gasped, but refused to cry out.

  “Isolda, no!” Gisela was tugging at her sleeve. “Let him do as he pleases.”

  The barbarian holding Isolda smiled, relaxing his grip slightly. “You’d do well to take that advice, girl. It’s a wise woman who knows when to surrender.”

  Isolda glared at him. “I will never surrender to you, for bedding or breeding. You’re a savage, far beneath even my contempt.” She twisted her wrist, and he released her.

  “You’ve made my choice easy then.” The man reached over, grabbing Gisela by the arm, pulling her away from Isolda. “I’ll take the one with the sense not to fight.” He looked into Isolda’s eyes.

  “Although I believe you will come to regret your decision. There’s much I can offer you, both in pleasure…” his eyes swept over her body “…and in terms of prot
ection.” He turned away, pulling Gisela behind him.

  Isolda leapt to her feet. “No!” she cried. “She’s just a girl.”

  “So much the better then.” He looked down at Gisela, his eyes crawling over her body. “I like tender young flesh.”

  “Wait! She’s my sister.” She took a step forward. “If you are going to take one, take us both.” Another barbarian, black haired and sweaty, blocked her path, pushing her back. He smelled of unwashed body and horse sweat. The man turned back, Gisela cowering against him.

  “Gerold, if you don’t want this one, I’ll take her.” The sweaty barbarian took a step toward Isolda, grabbing her arm. “I like playing with fire.” He pulled her to his chest, his mouth crushing down on hers, his tongue thrust between her resisting lips. Isolda twisted her head, pushing against his chest. With one hand he pulled and tugged at her dress, ripping the front, the breeze chilling her skin.

  “Baldric, let her go.” Isolda heard the menace in Gerold’s voice. But Baldric ignored him, one hand reaching down to grope her exposed breast, kissing and licking her neck.

  “I said, let her go.” Gerold’s voice was barely a whisper, cold as steel, and very close. Baldric stiffened, immediately releasing Isolda. She looked past the barbarian’s shoulder. Gerold held the point of his knife to Baldric’s neck, just below the ear.

  “I think I’ll take the girl up on her offer. I’d hate to break up a family.” Gerold reached around Baldric, grabbing Isolda by the arm.

  Gerold spoke to the rest of the men. “We need to leave. We’ve spent too much time here already.”

  He motioned to a young man who was holding the leads of several horses.

  “Tie this one to a pack horse.” He pushed Gisela forward “I’ll keep this red-headed bitch with me.

  Gisela’s hands were quickly bound and she was placed on a small horse carrying saddlebags and other bundles. Isolda’s hands were bound in front of her. Gerold mounted his horse, a huge snorting animal. Someone wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, lifting her up forcibly. Gerold grabbed her arms and she found herself seated in front of him. He made a gesture and the group rode out of the clearing.

 

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