by Gwynn Jones
"This," she panted into his ear, pressing herself against his massive cock. "I want this."
He took her by the hips and flipped her over, pulling her up onto her knees. He wasted no time. With one hand on her shoulder and the other around her waist, he sank his monstrously swollen member deep into her cunt. The girth of it stretched her to that point where pleasure and pain blur and become one. She buried her face in the bed, shrieking into the pillows as he pounded her with the full length of it, triggering a wave of orgasms that seemed like they might never end. And now it seemed like he was in no more danger of ending too soon, that he might rather fuck her right into oblivion.
She wasn't sure how long they went. She was conscious only of the sensations, of getting swept into wave after wave of climaxes, rolling, swelling, crashing over and through her as her boar-warrior's cock pounded her, until finally, sparks dancing across her vision, her hands scorching the bed linens, she came with such a powerful final pulse of energy, it carried them both over the edge.
Sigrun suspected that she blacked out briefly. When she came to her senses, she was sprawled on her stomach in a puddle of cum, his and hers alike, legs tangled with those of her companion, who was now collapsed on the bed beside her and returned to human form. She rolled over after a few moments, chuckling softly, and kissed his cheek.
"Goddess," he murmured, "you have conquered me completely. Your magic — Freya alone has the power to make us shift our forms. Who are you, that you can do such things?"
Sigrun had no answers. And now, finally, she was exhausted. Her body was humming, warm from the evening's powerful pleasures. Before she could offer any response at all, she had slipped into a deep sleep.
When she awoke in the morning, she was alone in the bed. Her companion, like Hrolf and Lars the evening before, had slipped quietly away. She yawned, stretched, and luxuriated in the feel of the soft covers wrapped around her bare limbs. She felt good, well rested and refreshed. She wondered what the day would hold, and when she would get a chance to speak with Freya again. How would she convince the goddess to help her? What if Freya had truly given up teaching the Vanir magic? Where would she go from here?
Sigrun slipped into her robe and slid out of bed. She was hungry and hoped some of last night's food remained on the table for her to pick at. She was delighted — and amazed by the stealth of the serving staff — to find the table freshly laid with an assortment of delicious-looking breakfast foods. And stunned to see Freya lounging in one of the chairs, a steaming mug of something spicy-smelling cupped in her hands.
Freya grinned.
"Sleep well? You must have been tired."
Sigrun felt a blush spreading across her cheeks.
"Uh, yes. Very."
"My priests Hrolf and Lars gave me a full report. They are eager to serve. And adept at the practices... wouldn't you say?"
Sigrun's face was growing hot.
"And Ottar — such a fine, strong warrior, he's always been one of my favorites." Freya chuckled. "I'm afraid he's quite exhausted this morning."
"I, um, I hope I haven't..." What? What could she say? Overstepped the bounds of hospitality by fucking one of your favorite warriors?
Freya laughed. "My dear girl, you've done nothing but exceed my expectations! A girl after her mother born. You have the power. The gift. And you do not understand it, but you are not afraid to embrace it. Tell me, did you know that you could cause Ottar to shift his form? He was a bit shaken by that. I'd never taken him to that in-between place. Wereboars..." She chuckled. "Delightful!"
"No, I didn't know. I just... wanted it."
"You're a natural, my dear." Freya took a sip from her cup. "So there we have it. I can't give you all the answers you seek. And I may be taking a risk with you, not knowing those answers, myself. But I would take a greater risk if I were to send you away with so much power, and so little understanding. There are others who would be very glad to get their hands on you. And besides, though I do not always trust the one who sent you — it would be foolish to trust that one! — we are likeminded about certain things. Stay here with me, and I will train you in the Vanir magic and the Vanir ways."
"Oh, thank you!"
"You may end up rethinking those thanks. It will be strenuous, I guarantee."
Sigrun thought of everything she had endured thus far. She knew that things could always get harder, stranger, more terrible, but she considered the horror and the weirdness and the wonders she had already experienced.
"I think I can handle it."
And she would, she promised herself. Whatever came next.
Keep following the adventures of Sigrun Frostdaughter
in the Viking Lore Erotic Tales!
Learn how it all began, with Bride of Grendel
and Bride of Grendel 2: Night of the Bear Man
by Gwynn Jones