Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“Our interest,” Sven said carefully, his eyes never leaving mine, “is in maintaining a particular balance. One that has served humanity for millennia, whether most humans realize it or not.”
I gasped as Cassandra’s slender finger circled my anus, the intimate touch sending shockwaves of sensation through my already overwhelmed body. The unrelenting blush that had begun at my cheeks now spread down my neck and across my chest, setting my skin aflame with mortification. When her tongue followed, tracing the sensitive blossom with devastating precision, I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. The taboo nature of the act, combined with the knowledge that five powerful men were watching my humiliation, made the experience almost unbearably intense.
“I must repeat myself,” Marmareus said, his voice carrying easily across the chamber. “Your girls respond beautifully to pleasure. Mary especially.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying desperately to focus on anything but Cassandra’s intimate exploration of my most private opening. Her tongue circled, pressed, probed—gentle yet insistent, preparing me for what was to come. When she slipped the very tip of her finger inside, I couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped my throat.
“The Guard’s methods of civilizing young women,” Sven replied in a neutral, almost academic tone that belied the intensity of his gaze, “align with my own in many respects. The female form, properly disciplined and trained, becomes not just a vessel for pleasure, but a conduit for order itself.”
His words, so clinical and detached, somehow intensified my shame and arousal in equal measure. This was my Herra speaking, the man who had awakened the völva within me, who had shown me the branches of Yggdrasil. Yet he discussed my subjugation as if I were merely a theoretical concept, a philosophical principle rather than a woman of flesh and blood and need.
Cassandra pressed deeper, her finger breaching my tight ring of muscle with slow, inexorable pressure. The strange, burning stretch made me gasp, my body tensing automatically against the intrusion. Her other hand reached beneath me, finding my clit with unerring accuracy, circling it with slick fingertips as if to distract me from the violation happening behind.
“Relax,” she whispered, her breath hot against my sensitized flesh. “Yield to it. It will hurt less. I can tell you have been civilized before, but these Nymphobi are big, and rough.”
I tried to obey, forcing my muscles to unclench despite the instinctive resistance. The burning sensation gradually transformed into something else—not quite pleasure, not exactly pain, but a peculiar fullness that demanded my complete attention.
“I am certainly open to considering an agreement,” Sven continued, his voice steady and measured in the face of the obscene tableau before him. “Provided, of course, that the terms prove beneficial to my group and our long-term objectives.”
Cassandra withdrew her finger only to return with two, stretching me further, making me moan even amid my best efforts to remain silent. The leather restraints creaked as I pulled against them, my body caught between the conflicting impulses to escape and to push back for more.
“I must acknowledge,” Marmareus said, his voice carrying an undertone of formality that transformed the debauched scene into something ceremonial, “that I have used your sluts without your explicit permission.”
I felt my heart hammering against my ribs as Marmareus’ words hung in the air between them. Cassandra’s fingers remained inside me, stretching my anus with deliberate pressure, while her other hand continued its maddening circles around my clit. I balanced on a knife’s edge, between pleasure and discomfort, still trying to think as clearly as I could.
“To further our negotiation in the traditional way of the Guard,” Marmareus continued, his dark eyes moving from Sven to Erik and back again, “I would ask your consent to share your bed servants with us, for this initiation.”
The formal request sent a fresh wave of heat through my body. The significance of what he was asking wasn’t lost on me, though my compromised state made it rather ironic. This wasn’t merely about sex, about the use of our bodies for pleasure. This was political—a symbolic joining of forces, a mingling of power and authority, with Camille and me as the living embodiments of the agreement.
I watched through lust-hazed eyes as Sven’s gaze found mine yet again across the chamber. I saw there, renewed, his permission to enjoy what must happen next. My heart lifted, though my blush blazed anew, at the idea of my Herra being there, present, to share me personally and to watch me being fucked by strangers.
Sven turned to Marmareus, his expression solemn. “I consent to share my bed thrall with the Pretorian Guard for this initiation,” he said, each word measured and precise. “Mary belongs to me, but I grant you the privilege of using her body as you see fit.”
Beside him, Erik nodded, his gaze locked with Camille’s. “I consent as well,” he said. “Camille may serve the Guard’s pleasure for this ritual.”