Xalian's Blog

Combat & Capture
Standing on the rocky shore, I scan the horizon as the sun rises. My Celtic blood brings a fierceness to my gaze as I search for any sign of invading fleets. Though my tribe is small in number, we are strong in our devotion to this land and in our dedication to protect it at all costs. Women and men alike take their place on watch at the coast some distance from our village, ready to alert all ten score remaining souls to any potential danger approaching by water. Every family has suffered loss at the cruel hands of sea-faring xxxxxs disguised as men, their greed exceeded only by their lust for blood and carnal pleasure. My family wiped out in the raids, I volunteer often for the watch in the dead of night, my hatred and desire for revenge warming me during the bitter hours on the cliffs. Only by chance was I with a nearby tribe training during the attack that took away those I loved, and I vowed upon my return to destroy those who did it were I ever given the chance. But the calm seas have yielded no new threats in many months, and there is talk of disbanding the watch entirely should this present peace continue.
My blood freezes as my green eyes alight on a dark spot in the distance. Marauders! All the years of preparation and training have not readied me for the visceral fear that sight engenders in me. My courage threatens to evaporate as I remain motionless in disbelief that the demons may be returning, but my courage quickly returns and reminds me of my duty to my murdered family and to my tribe. I spring to my feet to send up the alarm but take only a few strides before stepping into an unnoticed opening in the earth, my leather-clad foot disappearing into it and becoming trapped firmly in the rocks below. I curse at the Fates who have thwarted me in my efforts to warn my village of the coming doom but take no time to indulge in childish self-pity. Even though I am a lone woman against an unknown force, my warrior spirit stiffens my resolve to defend my home with my life if need be against the threat. I quickly assess my personal arsenal of weapons and the lay of the land around me, taking the brief time before the advancing ships arrive to plan my actions.
Unfortunately, my trapped foot puts me at an awkward angle to the shore, but my bow’s range should easily reach any approaching scum before he reaches me. I have only a handful of arrows in my quiver but vow to send as many as possible back to hell where they belong. Should any survive my initial defenses, my trusty short sword will dispatch them with glee. Although I am partially hidden from the beach, I am certain that even the dullest of their number will soon discover my location and find me ready for battle. As an extra precaution, I conceal a small dagger in the thick braids of my auburn hair, prepared to use it on myself should I fail to drive it into my foe first.
As the ships draw near I can discern that they carry Vikings, the very worst scourge of the seas! I have heard countless stories of these horrid men, if such can be even called men at all, and their siege of terror up and down the coast. Once in the shallows, these vermin spill forth from their vessels into the surf, bent on destroying everything in their path. I swear to the heavens that not all shall succeed today and notch arrow after arrow in my bow, letting each one fly with a scream of frustrated rage. Most of my shots hit true, dropping their targets to their knees to die in the brine that bore them hither. But the largest of their party, the one who should be easiest to strike, somehow evades my aim and seems to sense the vulnerability of my unusual positioning, moving to an angle I cannot reach. This massive bear of a figure strides toward me, a grim smile on his visage as he registers my reaction to his ceaseless advance. My hand searches my quiver in vain, now devoid of its content. I cast both it and the bow aside and draw my sword to clash with this gruesome giant drawing closer.
The behemoth approaches steadily, soon filling my view, wild lust blazing in his eyes of glacier blue. Despite my hatred of this dog who defiles my land, my body responds instinctively to his obvious power and virility. Too many cold nights alone have taken their toll on my womanly nature, and it battles with the warrior in me for control at the sight of this fierce Viking lord. My eyes travel over his sturdy frame, taking him in from head to foot, triggering a swirl of mental images about what must wait beneath his blood-stained, ragged garb. I shake my head to clear these visions and tighten my grasp on the hilt of my sword, preparing for his attack.

He moves quickly for so large a man, his size no hindrance to his grace and apparent skill. He stalks me with smooth, calculated moves, keeping just out of my sword’s reach. I struggle to defend myself, but my imprisoned foot gives him the advantage, allowing him to quickly disarm me with a forceful slash. His blade swipes at my throat, and I brace myself for the hot rush of my life’s blood flowing down my chest. Instead I feel the biting cold of the sea breeze on my now-bare breasts, the sliced fragments of my vest falling to the ground. My nipples sharpen into spikes from the icy wind and the growing lust in my veins for this impressive stranger before me.

That lust is mirrored in the warlord’s eyes as he gazes hungrily at my full breasts heaving as I gasp from my exertions. Casting his sword aside, he grasps my hair and forces me down to my knees. If he has detected my dagger hidden there, he shows no sign. My concern over it soon is displaced by wantonness as he tugs aside his loincloth and unleashes his manhood before me. Proud as the mast of his ship, his uncut cock stands erect before me, a wondrous sight indeed. I feast my eyes on it, fascinated both by its size and its novelty, being the first intact male member I have seen. My ire is soon roused though as he slaps it against my burning face, but my ardor at the feel of it pressing against my lips turns my hatred to passion. I open my mouth and take him in. Oh, his sturdy cock is heavy on my tongue and fills my mouth with the tastes of sea and sweat! I forget that he is the enemy as my desire grows stronger, and I eagerly welcome his strokes. He is beyond any I have known, and I struggle to accommodate its length and girth. Each thrust pushes deeper than the last, forcing me to swallow him down lest I choke on his thick prick.

I feel his passion rise as his pace increases, and I hear the voice of my warrior tribe whisper in my ear "Now! Draw the dagger & unman him!" But I cannot bring myself to damage him, so strong is my need for his wondrous weapon. He reaches down and torments my turgid nipples with rough fingers, causing me to moan deeply, vibrations passing from my throat into his sliding cock. I feel him twitch in reaction before abandoning my mouth and pushing me to the ground onto my back.
I spot my secreted dagger flashing in his hand just before he swiftly slices my skirt from hem to waist, and it falls off me in pieces, revealing the coppery curls covering my mound. The Viking lord drops heavily to his knees and reaches between my ivory thighs, running his finger up the length of my slit. He withdraws his wet digit, an evil grin on his face at the evidence of my responsiveness to his actions. My eyes widen in heated awe as he puts his finger into his mouth, apparently savoring the taste of my juices. He forces my knees apart and leans over me, letting the head of his cock grazes my outer lips as he drags it up and down, teasing my puffy clit with repeated smacks of his hard shaft. I am panting like a bitch hound in heat, and I long to feel his massive manhood inside me even as I fear it will split me in twain.
As if he can sense my arousal, he shifts his body forward, allowing only the engorged head to enter my quivering opening. I moan aloud with every shallow stroke he delivers, stretching me wide and cutting through me like a blade, but by the gods it is such sweet pain! I spread my thighs wide and clutch at his hard hipbones, silently begging him to enter me fully.

Oh sweet Cerridwen, the pain is so intense as he plunges into me, but it pales in comparison to the deep pleasure of his cock filling me up like no man before. He pounds me hard, pistoning into me, his balls slapping against my ass. His sharp teeth clamp down on my nipple making me yelp and driving my desire even higher. My back arches as I feel my body shake beneath his mass. I take no notice of the rocks & ground beneath me - my focus solely on the pillar of flesh impaling me.
He grunts at me, his words incomprehensible but his meaning clear – his complete possession of me. I clutch his tree-like arms and fuck back against him fast and strong, my pussy grinding him. Feeling my lust, he lifts my legs over his shoulders and slams into me hard and fast, touching me deep inside & triggering rippling convulsions as I begin to shake. Oh, the skill of this Viking lord! Every muscle in my body goes taut as my climax overwhelms me. I feel him speed up and then explode inside me, my pussy milking his spurting cock for every drop of his hot seed. It fills me and overflows to coat us both before he collapses atop me, his mass pressing me into the earth below, his cock still pulsating within me.

After a moment’s rest, he raises himself up and out of me, indicating with an abrupt nod of his head that I should rise as well. My trembling legs can barely support me as this xxxxx of a man puts me on all fours to continue his assault. His still hard cock slams into me again, entering my aching pussy once more, the intensity of his passion as terrifying and exciting as the man himself. Pulling my hair to bring my face up, his lips fasten on my neck, moustache tickling, before biting my nape with a savage growl. His mouth then travels to mine, and he kisses me hard, biting my lip and forcing his tongue into my mouth, bruising me but leaving me hungry for more.
My braids have come undone from his repeated tugging, and my long hair falls in auburn waves over my back. He breaks the kiss to resume his thrusting, and I struggle to catch my breath. Only as I turn my face away from him do I notice at last the remainder of his party hurrying in the direction of my village. My body tenses, my mind torn between the woman and the warrior. My fingers closes around the loose sand beneath me, and without thinking, I fling the handful over my shoulder in the direction of his eyes, intent on blinding him so that I can make my escape.
That action is my last before the darkness descends, and consciousness slips away.
Return & Remembering
Strange how the human animal becomes accustomed so quickly to change. Even initially unpleasant or even horrific changes can become oddly comforting in their familiarity as time passes.
These thoughts meander through my restless mind as I lay in my own bed for the first time in months after escaping my Viking captor at last. Despite the fear and hatred that initially gripped me upon the sight of the fierce warlord and his savage crew, I find myself unable to drift into slumber without his massive frame beside me. As his captive and personal plaything, I slept in his bed, securely shackled and chained there for the entirety of my time upon the longboat that took me from my land.
How I longed to return to my home! I kept alert to any opportunity to make good my escape from this xxxxx of a man filling the bed beside me. And yet, finally granted my wish, in some strange way, I missed his presence beside me. The sound of his breathing, the heat from his body, the feel of his rough hands pulling me to him in the night when his primal urges beckoned. Images begin to flood my mind, and I give in to the desire washing over my body to relive my days & nights aboard the Roaring Dragon as the prize of Xalian, the wicked Viking warlord.
……………………..
It was the screaming of the gulls that woke me, the sound piercing through my brain and bringing me painfully back to reality. For a moment, my mind could not comprehend where I was nor how I got there, but the dull throbbing in my head soon dispelled my mental cobwebs, and my recollection cleared along with my vision of my new surroundings.
Sunlight struggled weakly through the high portholes along one wall, offering just enough light to make out the massive chair in front of the desk along one wall. That rough-hewn chair could only have been built for one man, my Viking captor whose name I did not yet know at that time. The sturdy desk was covered with maps and charts along with a large tankard and an empty plate. My stomach began to growl at the sight of that plate, only the gods knew how long I had been xxxxxxxxxxx, but any thoughts of food swiftly vanished as the ship pitched violently, triggering an answering pitch in my belly. Although I had lived beside the sea all my life, I had never traveled on her back save brief forays into much calmer waters than those I now seemed to be tossed upon.
As I struggled to control my uneasiness, the door of the cabin burst open, and its frame was filled by the huge outline of the Viking lord. As I scrambled up onto the bed, I noticed a tugging at my left ankle. Glancing down, I discovered its source – an iron shackle attached to the wall by a heavy chain. My mouth dropped open in shock, and I looked swiftly from my tether to the man who no doubt had placed it there. A smirk of satisfaction adorned his face at the sight of my disbelief, and he moved toward me, crossing the room in a mere three strides of his mighty legs. Before I could regain my senses to resist, he seized my hair, bent my head back, and fastened his mouth on mine, kissing me savagely as he had done on the beach. His tongue plunged between my lips, forcing them apart, and his rough beard scraped my face.
Only at the touch of his hand and lips did I realize that I was still naked, my clothing presumably still in tatters on the shore of my homeland. The coarse shirt covering his broad chest abraded my nipples, making them spring painfully erect, and I whimpered at the sensation. This sound seemed to please him, for he broke the kiss and looked down to notice the cause of my discomfort. Grinning with evil delight, he seized one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking on it hard before clamping down on it with sharp teeth. I gasped and cried out at both the pain and the pleasure I felt coursing through me. Spurred on by my protests, he flung me back on the bed and started to strip off his weapons and clothing. He appeared to take his time doing so, watching my face intently to note every flicker of expression that crossed it with each article he removed.
Though it shames the memory of my murdered kith and kin, I must say in truth that the vision of that mighty warlord unclad before me sent tremors of passion racing through me like nothing I had ever known. His broad shoulders, his muscled thighs, his eyes burning brightly with lust, and his proud cock – oh, my gaze locked on that awesome weapon with a fevered fascination. Just as from the first instant I saw it, I was captivated by the strangely hypnotic appearance of his uncut member, swaying now as it filled with his blood and desire. My body leaned toward it, yearning to touch it, and my lips parted with a sigh.
The Viking’s voice was harsh and husky as he spoke in words unknown to me, but his intent was unmistakable. He grabbed my head between his immense hands and pulled my face to his groin. But this time I was ready and eager to receive him. I opened my mouth wide and tilted my head back in preparation to accept his swelling shaft. Noting my response, he paused for a moment, chuckled heartily at my wantonness, and then thrust his rigid prick forward. I took in as much of him as I could, but even with my willingness, his size was so great that I soon felt him press against the back of my throat, making me gag. Steadily he pressed forward, giving no quarter to my twisting and turning head trapped in his hands, until I was xxxxxx to relax and swallow him down. He grunted in approval and slid his hard cock in and out of my warm mouth, his prick growing larger still on each stroke.
He began to shudder and then quickly removed his prize from my lips. Waves of hot, sticky seed showered over my breasts, drenching them completely as the warlord unleashed his climax upon me. The flood seemed almost endless as he spurted again and again over my slick flesh until at last he was spent. He released my head with a shove and threw me back onto the bed with a mutter before turning to the desk. Confused, I lay there panting with pent-up desire of my own and watched him drain the tankard of its contents. My previous experience in the carnal ways of men told me that this would be the end of this encounter, that I would be left abandoned and unsatisfied. I was cleaning myself with a discarded shirt when I felt his strong grip on each of my ankles.
He yanked my feet up and apart, my breath leaving me in whoosh as my back thumped onto the bed. I lay there dazed until I felt his warm breath on the damp flesh between my thighs. My eyes opened wide in wonder when his mouth made contact with my wet and welcoming pussy. The whiskers of his beard and moustache brushed over my moistened mound, making me quiver with delight, my thighs spreading apart to offer him better access. I let out a sigh of pure pleasure when his skillful tongue dipped into my aching folds and caressed the length of my pussy. His lips fastened on my throbbing clit, and he began to suck hard on that sensitive nub. Strong tremors shook my body, and I writhed beneath him, thrusting my hips up to his face. He grunted approvingly and continued his oral assault, slipping two fingers inside me as I moaned.
Whether from years of wenching or a gift direct from his gods, I did not know, but the magic in that man’s touch sent my eyes heavenward and my body into spasms of sheer ecstasy. His curling fingers stroked and twisted inside me, and I convulsed like a woman possessed. For possessed I was by a strong and undeniable hunger for more, more of the incredible sensations rushing through me, triggered by the motions of the hand and mouth of my warlord captor. My juices flowed like a rain-swelled river, and I screamed as I came, clutching his wild locks in my grasping hands. His deep chuckle rumbled through my tormented flesh, and he began sliding his thick fingers in and out of me, giving me no respite from my last climax before sending me crashing into another and then a third. I gasped for breath, overcome by the powerful orgasms in such rapid succession. He extracted his hand and removed his mouth, only to flip me onto my stomach with surprising ease. As he pulled my hips upwards, I recalled anew our first encounter on the beach and found myself arching my back to present my ass to him even without conscious thought of doing so.
A loud thwack split the air when his broad palm made violent contact with my bare behind. My mind was still in shock when the pain reached my brain, and tears filled my eyes. A second blow echoed off the cabin walls as his other hand came down with a crack onto my other cheek, and my arms shook with the effort to keep myself from collapsing onto the pelts beneath me. The sting was more immediate and more intense, yet beneath it was an inescapable pleasure that made my pussy ache and my nipples harden. I had braced for a third strike when the Viking’s teeth suddenly clamped down on the heated skin of my upraised rump. Again, my body shuddered in response, and a fresh flow of wetness dampened my thighs as I came once more.
My ragged breathing filled the air while the mighty warlord clambered onto the bed and covered my trembling body with his. I felt the press of his hard cock against my swollen pussy lips and could not help but grind against it, so eager was I for it to fill me up with its girth. My head was jerked upwards by the tug on my hair, and the jaws that clamped onto my exposed neck held me firmly in frozen anticipation. One giant paw slipped down between us and slowly dragged the pointed head of his turgid prick up and down my drenched divide and tapped it on my throbbing clit. He repeated this sequence twice more, and I whined and flinched in response, yearning for his invasion of my tight pussy. Tormenting me thus until I was nearly faint with need, the xxxxx released his bite and slammed hard into me, impaling me with his full length on the first thrust.
Oh, the sharp, fierce pain & delight that accompanied that thrust! I could scarcely tell where one ended and the other began. All I knew was that I wanted it never to stop. Strong fingers sunk into the yielding flesh of my hips and drew me back onto his cock again and again as he pounded into me. I keened like a trapped animal, the Viking’s proud staff stretching me wider with each stroke, his balls slapping against my sensitive clit, making me jump each time. I pushed against the bed, striving to meet the incoming invader, and swiveled my hips to feel him against every interior surface. This seemed to please my savage lover, for he doubled his pace and began to grunt with exertion. I yelped in reply, my skin tingling as my climax started to build again. My sweet nectar flowed over us both, and the room resounded with the smacking & slapping of wet flesh on wet flesh.
The warlord’s grunts became more urgent and his thrusts more frantic, spurring me on to even higher levels of passion. I wanted to take his seed, let it fill me up to overflowing, feel it pour out of me afterward when I moved. My own cries grew harsh and guttural, my need obvious in my growls and groans. His hands tightened their grip, his body went rigid, and he came with a thunderous roar. Wave upon wave of his hot come poured into me, triggering my own explosion of lust. I shoved myself onto his spurting cock, my pussy milking him, squeezing him, ravenous for every drop of his sticky seed. I screamed out my bliss, my body heaving and shaking beneath him.
With one last shudder of his massive body, the Viking emptied the last of his come into me and collapse heavily atop me, his cock still embedded in my greedy snatch. Pinned to the bed, I could barely breathe, both from his weight and from my intense orgasm. Hearing me gasp for air, he rolled his chest off me but remained solidly inside me. I let out a sigh of relief and struggled to regain my strength but was soon distracted by the pinch of two fingers on my puckered nipple. My breath drew in with a hiss, and my pussy tightened around its prize. The warlord chuckled and drew his face close to my ear, murmuring strange words filled with the promise of menace and delight as he twisted my trapped flesh. I winced and whined, and he released his grip, causing me to whimper for his abandonment. His fingers returned and pinched again, testing both my desire and my ability to comply. This time, I bit my lip to not cry out when his fingers teased their prisoner, earning me a slap of approval on my hip when he was done. He then removed himself from me and rose from the bed. He strode to the door, opened it, and shouted a command to someone unseen before taking his seat in the huge wooden chair.
I remained reclined on the pile of pelts, watching him carefully through half-closed eyes. Truly, I had never seen such a man before! Not just his size nor his impressive unaltered manhood, but his very nature, his way of moving in the world. Here was indeed a master of all he surveyed, accustomed to being obeyed without question, by man and woman alike, I had no doubt. A respectful knock came at the door, which opened after the Viking’s response. A small man (and who would not seem small beside such a specimen) entered bearing a frothing tankard and a plate of meat, enormous and bloody. He placed these humbly on the table before the warlord and cleared their predecessors, pausing a moment to cast a gaze at me in curiosity and ill-disguised envy. Taking note of this, the captain (for it was obvious who was in charge) struck the man with the back of his hand, sending him and his load crashing to the floor. The man scrambled to pick up the empty plate and tankard, babbled words assuredly of acquiescence, and beat a hasty retreat without another glance my way.
The behemoth tore into the meat ravenously, washing down the huge chunks in his maw with giant slurps from the tankard. In spite of his animalistic enjoyment of his meal, my mouth could not but water at the heady aromas of mead and meat, and I grew dizzy and pale with hunger. Seeing my distress, he motioned for me to come to him, but I took only two steps from the bed before the world began to spin around me. Moving swiftly, the Viking swooped over to catch me before I crumpled to the floor and carried me to his chair where he sat again and propped me on his knee like a child. Not an unfair comparison since my toes could not reach the ground from my perch on his lap. He pressed the tankard to my lips and tilted it up, instructing me to drink. I opened my mouth and took a swallow. He continues to pour the mead so that I was xxxxxx to drink or drown. I drank until he was satisfied and lowered the tankard again.
The mead warmed me, suffusing the room with a rosy glow, at least from my addled viewpoint. Then, with a gesture, he bade me eat, offering me morsels of the rare meat from his plate. I was unaccustomed to such undercooked meat, but my hunger and my intuition of the consequences should I refuse overcame my reticence, and I greedily accepted all that was offered. The Viking smiled at my efforts to comply, if you can call the fierce grimace that adorned his face something as benign as a smile, and leaned back in his chair, his eyes taking me in from head to toe. I know not whether it was fullness from the meal or intoxication from the mead, but the hiccup that emitted from me then amused the giant on whose knee I balanced, and he roared with laughter. I blushed and smiled in spite of myself and forgot for a moment the circumstances that brought me to be sitting naked on this wild man’s lap. He reached up a hand to my face and brushed my hair back from my face. Gazing at me for a moment, he seemed to make a decision, grunted his approval of that decision, and picked me up, rising & carrying me back to bed, the chain that tethered me to the wall clanking with every move.
The gentleness with which he deposited me onto the array of pelts there caught me off guard, and I sat stone still for a second in wonder. He pulled out the largest hide and lay down beside me, covering us both with it and drawing me close to his side. Within seconds he was asleep, his sinewy arm draped across my waist and his warm breath blowing rhythmically across my shoulder. How very strange and unexpected it all was! And who knew what the next day would bring? I could scarcely have imagined such events just the days ago before my world changed forever. I pondered the mysterious ways of life before fullness and exhaustion overtook me, and I fell into a deep slumber of my own.
In my dream I run through the deep woods, my black paws falling lightly between the ferns growing from the forest floor. Dappled sunlight dances on my ruddy coat, and my dark nose twitches at the complex swirl of smells borne on the early spring breeze. I am a quick & cunning vixen, and these woods are my home. Sure-footed and sleek, I traverse the twisting & turning paths here unseen by human eyes.

Just as I round the last bend before reaching my den, I see him blocking my path. A great black & silver wolf with eyes of steely blue. Blood drips from gleaming fangs, and his blazing gaze fills me with a thrilling fear. My heart pounding, I spin around to flee, my green eyes darting desperately in search of escape, but he tackles me in a single leap. I feel his white teeth bury themselves in the scruff of my neck, holding me still as his haunches shift above mine.

The sensation of his lupine shaft sliding into me felt so very real that I woke with a start, panting & aroused. The inspiration for my fevered dream became clear when I realized the shaft I felt was as genuine as the teeth bearing down on my neck. Only their owner was a wolf with two legs instead of four, but no less fierce or lustful than his phantom counterpart.

His movements were slower, more sensual than during our previous encounters, and the rhythmic sliding of his cock as it entered and exited my slick passage stoked the flames of my ardor until I was consumed with its heat. I clutched at the rock-hard arms wrapped around me and canted my hips up to take the Viking even deeper into my pussy's embrace. A growl of satisfaction rolled from his lips and vibrated through my trapped throat, sending shivers racing over my skin. My scrambling hands stretched out to the wall beside me, and I braced myself to push back against him with more vigor.

My enthusiasm spurred the warlord on, and he released my neck to adjust his position in search of better purchase for his quickening thrusts. His fingers dug into my hip and shoulder as he drew me over and over onto his throbbing member. I arched my back and met each stroke with an increasingly loud bleat of elation. My squeals of pleasure were echoed by equally exuberant vocalizations from the man pounding into me, and my ears were filled with incomprehensible phrases as we both started to come. My whole body tensed in the pinnacle of passion, and the Viking slammed into my rigid frame as his lust exploded in a hot rush.
Once more the flood of his man seed coursed into me, overflowing my quivering pussy and drenching my thighs. He seemed to come for an eternity, with a spasming groan for every spurt of his thick fluid, until at last he was done. Aftershocks of ecstasy shook my quaking body, and I fought to keep the grayness that threatened to envelop me at bay. Moments before succumbing to its relentless encroachment, I heard the Viking murmur tenderly in my ear and felt his lips softly kiss my shoulder before he too entered the dream world again.
Education and Escape
Thus began my servitude to the mighty Xalian. Though I would learn his name and other phrases through his patient tutelage of his foreign tongue, I would never learn exactly why he chose to keep me as his own. During my tenure aboard his warship, the Roaring Dragon, I saw first hand what became of other female victims of the Viking raiding parties. They were given over to the harsh caresses and even harsher whims of the crew until, through overuse or at their own hands, they met their pitiful ends. I knew that my warlord captor held my fate in his hand as surely as if I were a field mouse beneath the paw of a curious cat and that my continued survival depended on my ability to please him in every way.
And at first survival was foremost on my mind, for how could I escape unless I survived long enough to do so? The days quickly took on a predictable rhythm. Each morning I would wake to his touch – hands, mouth, cock – as though he felt the need to claim me anew upon waking. And every day would bring some new sensation to our mating. He seemed to push the boundaries of my sexual experience with each encounter, stretching the limits of my body and my libido a little at a time. So subtle was this slow transformation that I did not notice it at first, not for at least the first fortnight. Soon I began to anticipate and even look forward to whatever fresh nuance he would chose to explore with me.
Only once did his passion seem to overwhelm his control. The ship’s course had evidently taken a northern trek – a fact I could only surmise from the growing cold in the captain’s quarters since I was never allowed out of it. Xalian and his crew had left early in the day to raid some unsuspecting village. I could not think of their victims, of the terrible carnage that undoubtedly lay in their wake. The pain of my homesickness would become too great if I did, and I would certainly fall into the same despair that afflicted any other prisoners “lucky” enough to escape the initial slaughter.
I lay curled in a ball on the bed, my back to the door, huddled beneath as many pelts as I could bear without suffocating in my attempts to stay warm. The steady rocking of the ship and the lateness of the hour had lulled me into a deep slumber, and so I was not aware of the warlord’s return from his foray until the deep pile of pelts were ripped from atop me and cast to the floor. I awoke, cold and confused, and gazed up to see the Viking glaring down at me. He was a fearsome sight indeed! Blood welled in slashes on both his arms and in the row of scratches on his cheek. His eyes were wild, blazing with an icy fire, and his voice was harsh and gruff when he reached for me. My addled brain scurried from concern over his wounds to curiosity over their source to self-preservation as he roughly pulled me to the edge of the bed and lifted my ankles heavenward.
Blinding, white-hot pain seared through me when Xalian’s throbbing cock plunged into my unsuspecting bud. Never before had he attempted to make entry into what had previously only been for evacuation, and I was awash with a mixture of pain, shock and shame at being used in such a manner. While his possession of me had always been complete and undeniable, he had refrained from being cruel in the way he was this time. He appeared detached, almost to the point of being unaware of into what or whom he was thrusting. He pounded mercilessly into me, the initial friction reduced by the blood from my wounded opening. My screams of agony seemed only to increase his lust and his tempo for in minutes he reached his climax and came deep inside me with a frightening roar, continuing his assault until his last spasm subsided and he withdrew. He then fell heavily onto the bed on his back and was instantly asleep.
I sat sobbing, blessedly numb with shock for the moment at what had transpired. Even though I knew what brutality the Viking was capable of, he had strangely never showed its full measure to me before, and it terrified me. And in an odd way, it saddened me too. For all I knew, I was merely the latest in an endless line of personal playthings he had enjoyed. Yet my feminine ego persisted in the belief that I was somehow unique, that he found me special and set me apart from the others. Our capability for self-delusion can be surprisingly strong and adaptable. What had just occurred however certainly ran counter to that foolish whimsy and reminded me of the reality of my situation.
And yet I could not stop myself from tending to his wounds while he slept. One of the crew quietly brought in meat and mead for his captain, and I indicated through gestures that I required to clean water and supplies to care for the damage the warlord had received. The crew member nodded and returned with a bucket of warm water and some cloth with which I carefully cleaned and bound the cuts on Xalian’s well-muscled arms as he slumbered on. I also washed the jagged gashes on his cheek, evidence of at least one woman’s resistance to his attack. Once satisfied with my work, I turned my attention to my own injuries and bathed my battered body with the rapidly cooling water that remained and gingerly checked on the focus of his attentions. Despite his incredibly swift and brutal assault, it seemed that the bruising and slight tearing would heal over time, provided this extreme treatment did not become frequent.
After completing my ablutions, I carefully crept to the table, keeping one eye on the sleeping giant on the bed. I gorged myself on the meat and mead, barely making a dent in the massive quantities of each set forth there. Soon my belly was full, and my head grew heavy from weariness and wine. I settled into the huge chair, drew the cloak draped there around me, and swiftly began to doze. Surprisingly no dreams haunted my rest that night despite the ordeal I had endured, my body’s need to repair undisturbed doubtless quieting my uneasy mind.
It took a few moments to clear my befuddled senses when I woke for at first I did not realize the changes that had taken place in the night. I was alone in the massive bed and wearing a clean chemise, but neither surprised me so much as the lightness of my left leg. The shackle which had been my constant companion since my arrival was gone. The chafed flesh where it had rested was covered with cloth sticky with some strange smelling yet soothing ointment. My mouth dropped open in frank disbelief, and my eyes scanned the room quickly to find my benefactor.
The mighty warlord sat slumped in his chair, applying what was surely the same salve to his own wounds. He did not appear initially to notice that I had roused, he was so intent on his task. Only the knock at the door broke his concentration, yet he merely barked out his reply without lifting his gaze. A crewman brought in a plate and mug, set them on the table and left quickly, never glancing at me. Certainly word had spread about the consequences of such a foolish act in their captain’s presence, and to a man they acted accordingly.
After the man left, Xalian continued his work, to all appearances still unaware of me watching him. Once done, however, he reached out a hand and beckoned me to him without looking my way. I obeyed immediately and climbed off the bed, crossing slowly to him, particularly cautious considering the sudden changes in his demeanor. My movements seemed unnaturally quiet now without the accompanying clank of my chain. He clasped his hands on my hips and lifted me onto his lap. My gasp of discomfort as my bottom settled on his thigh finally broke his reserve and caused his eyes to meet mine.
Concern warmed the warlord’s gaze from its usual glacier blue to a softer shade, which was also tinged by what seemed to be regret for his brutality of the previous night. His eyes narrowed as he searched my face, his hand beneath my chin tilting it up to him. We looked at each other for a long moment, unspoken words passing between us – words of apology and understanding. I nodded in acceptance of what had passed, and he seemed to relax then, settling back in his chair. Then an almost child-like glee lit up his eyes as he smiled at me and reached behind me to the plate on the table. When his hand returned, it held a most wondrous sight, a golden brown cake drizzled with honey.
I could not contain my gasp of delight at them and grinned broadly at Xalian. He laughed and brought the delectable morsel near my mouth, teasing me by holding it just out of reach. I snapped at it, straining to get just a nibble of its sweetness, but he deftly drew it back at each of my attempts. Finally I grabbed his giant paw in both my hands and brought it with its cargo to my mouth. Oh, the cake was so delicious, a welcome treat! One dark corner of my mind wondered about the price paid in blood for me to enjoy it, but my hunger pushed such thoughts aside and reveled in the tasty prize.
I devoured the first cake and was soon presented with a second, the Viking watching me the whole time, pleased with my exuberant acceptance of his peace offering. When I finished the second one, he started to withdraw his hand, but I stopped him. I answered his quizzical stare at me by taking one of his honey-coated fingers into my mouth. I began to suck the sticky residue from his thick finger, my tongue curling around his trapped digit, my eyes never leaving his. His expression shifted from curiosity to shock and, by the time I moved on to a second finger, the stirrings of lust.
My lips slid up and down, emulating a more intimate act, and my motions were greeted with a low growl of approval. Beneath my thigh, I could feel his massive cock starting to wake and soon felt my own ardor answering in response. His hand moved to my neck, pulling my face closer to his, and his tongue swept across my lips to lick away any honey droplets waiting there. I opened my mouth and captured his wandering tongue, drawing it into me, and we kissed deeply and passionately. His fingers drifted downward and closed around my breast. He kneaded it slowly, softly, my hard nipple between his knuckles. Breaking the kiss, I moaned and arched my back, my head lolling back in pleasure. His mouth traveled the length of my exposed throat, and the sensations of his warm lips and tickling whiskers sent shivers coursing through me.
The warlord reached down to the hem of my chemise, slipped his hand beneath the thin fabric, and slowly glided up my leg. With every inch of flesh his fingers traversed in their trek, my pulse raced a little faster, my breath grew more rapid, until I was nearly faint by the time he reached my waist. His left hand mirrored his right, matching its position on my opposite side. He gently lifted me off his granite-like thigh and set me on my feet before him, where he tenderly raised my sole garment up and off. His eyes swept over me, taking in every curve, every hollow.
With a groan of desire, he rose from his chair and gathered me in his arms, sweeping me up and onto the bed in a single fluid motion. Recalling my earlier discomfort, he deposited me carefully on the deepest piles of pelts, watchful for any signs of anguish on my face. But my visage displayed only one emotion to his gaze, unbridled lust for the mighty Viking. I stretched out, reclining fully and presenting my willing body to his use. The fires of passion blazed in his sea blue eyes, and I allowed my lids to drift shut, eagerly awaiting his rough caress and the comforting weight of him pressing me down.
I was uncertain at first that I had actually felt anything at all, so delicate was the brush of Xalian’s full lips against the arch of my bare foot. Whether my gasp stemmed more from my surprise at his action or from the tingles that danced along my nerves, I could not say. The only thing I knew for certain at that moment was that I never wanted that warm mouth to still its wandering as it moved across my foot and circled my unscathed ankle. Having experienced the strength and violence of which this warrior was capable made the impact of such unexpected sensitivity far more intense, and my trembling became more profound with each soft kiss, each whispering sweep of his bristling whiskers. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could not refrain from writhing beneath him as he continued up my calf.
The warlord swiftly exerted his power over me by trapping my squirming form under his sinewy forearms and holding his place in his journey until my wriggling ceased. He resumed his oral attentions once I lay quiet again, only to cease again when my body contorted in response. And so I xxxxxx myself to remain unmoving when he continued once more, though every muscle quivered like a bowstring. But I would give him no cause to stop again, particularly as he neared the apex of my now all-consuming desire. Beads of sweat adorned my brow and half-moons indented my palms, so fierce was my inner struggle to comply with his wishes.
But my hard-won obedience was soon rewarded with unimaginable pleasure. Upon reached the uppermost juncture of my thigh, the Viking stopped, and I opened my eyes to find him gazing down at me patiently. At my questioning glance, he lightly nudged the back of each knee, and I slid them apart accordingly. Approving my position, he lowered his great head and began sweeping his mustache back and forth across the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. Keeping in mind my earlier lesson, I strained once again not to move though the exquisite torment made my already damp nether curls completely sodden with the sweet nectar that poured out of me.
Xalian drew in a deep breath upon reaching the center of my womanhood, inhaling my secret scent. His low murmur of satisfaction drifted up to my ears and sent tremors down my spine. He placed teasing kisses on either side of the flesh that wanted him most, interspersed with quick nips of his sharp teeth. I yelped and jumped at each bite, barely clinging to the last shreds of my self-control and teetering on the brink of the nearly overpowering urge to bury his face in my mossy divide. Yet somehow I resisted, fearful that any overt action on my part would give him cause to deny me the release I so desperately craved.
Sensing the frailty of my will, the warrior relented and granted me a single, long swipe of his tongue, parting my outer lips and caressing every wet fold from back to front. When he reached my clit, my world exploded in a million stars, and my climax crashed through me like summer lightning in a forest. I screamed out his name and convulsed wildly, unable to hold back any longer. My juices gushed forth, soaking his beard, but he seemed not to noticed as his lips closed around my throbbing button and his tongue began flicking it rapidly, propelling me from peak to peak of passion. My fingers tore at his hair, pushing and pulling at the same time – I couldn’t bear for him to continue, but I also could not bear for him to stop.
His mouth shifted down to my plump inner lips and enfolded first one, then its twin, licking, sucking, biting the swollen flesh. My body spasmed like one possessed by demons, and my breathing was hoarse and ragged. Moving his mouth again, he dipped downward and plunged his tongue into my clutching pussy while his thick fingers trapped my pulsing clit in a firm squeeze. I felt another wave of bliss crest and begin to crash just before all around me faded into a grey, velvet fog, and I slipped into xxxxxxxxxxxness.