“The only way he would find out is if someone opens their big trap.” The man with sandy-colored hair carries a look I know too well. “Just one taste. What harm will it do?”
Skarth yanks furiously at his chains as the men approach me. “Get away from her!”
“Or what? You’re in no position to be making demands, Viking.”
Ulf frantically searches the room, attempting to seek a weapon, an escape, anything to avoid the inevitable. I am accustomed to men showing their true nature when it comes to lust. One of them pins my legs down as the other unfastens his trousers, freeing his disgusting cock.
I don’t even have time to fight.
He forces his cock down my throat and grips my chin with a pistol grip to stop me from biting down. He coaxes me to move my mouth up and down his shaft as he commences fucking my mouth. I gag when he hits the back of my throat. It only seems to encourage him to push down farther and faster.
I try to move my head, but his hold is tight.
I detach from my body and focus on flaying the skin from their bones as this is the only thing that helps me survive.
The other man’s hand wanders up my leg and under my skirt. He rubs over my sex crudely, grunting when he inserts a finger into me.
Two men are molesting me, whilst my two Vikings watch, helpless to stop it.
Skarth’s pained screams hurt more than my throat being fucked raw. Or my womanhood being breached by callused, rough fingers. The man whose cock is down my throat commences thrusting faster, forcing my head to bob up and down, taking him deep.
“Your mouth is a warm cavern. I see what the fuss is about, for a queen’s mouth feels like heaven on my cock.”
“Your cock is going to be down your throat when I am done with you.” Skarth’s threat isn’t empty. In one way or another, he will ensure this bastard pays.
He doesn’t listen as he shivers and groans, spilling his seed down my throat. Only when he stops gyrating does he release me. With tears in my eyes, I immediately spit, needing to dispel him from my body.
The other man wants his turn now. “Hold her still.”
I am being yanked from every direction, merely a plaything for these beasts to abuse for their perverted ways.
Both men now have their erect pricks on display, primed to take turns raping me.
I can feel the wall vibrate as Ulf and Skarth tug violently at the chains around their wrists. Norse fills the brutal air as they both attempt to save me. I sit with my arms chained above my head, so getting to my womanhood proves to be an issue as I flail madly.
But a man who wants to come is a determined one, and before long, I am flipped to the side so my arse is exposed. My arms are twisted at a painful angle, but the pain is a reminder of the revenge I will get.
I wait for a sharp intrusion, but instead, I feel a warmth across my buttocks.
Turning over my shoulder, I do not understand why I see blood when I’ve not been penetrated. But when my almost rapist slumps forward, dead due to his throat being sliced, I will ask questions later because a young man whom I do not know just saved me from being brutalized.
Another frees Skarth, who instantly steals a sword only to drive it straight through the torso of the man who defiled my mouth moments ago. The man drops to his knees in front of me, eyes wide. I watch as Skarth makes good on his promise and, in one swift swing, cuts off the bastard’s cock.
He picks it up and shoves it down his throat with two fingers. Now he is the one who has a pistol grip, forcing him to swallow. And when he does, he chokes…on his own cock.
Skarth never breaks eye contact as he watches the man die a slow, painful death. When he takes his last breath, he slices off his head with a roar. Coated in blood and breathless, he turns to look at me, utter regret marring his beautiful face.
“I failed you.”
“No, my beloved. You saved me, as you always have.”
He rushes over, slicing through the chains at my wrists, drawing me into his chest and hugging me tight. He smells like my Skarth—a mixture of blood and war.
“Thank you,” he says, nodding in gratitude to the young man who can be no older than fourteen. “Who are you?”
He clears his throat, and when I finally meet his eyes, I am hit with familiarity.
I have looked into those eyes before.
