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)
He maintained a deliberate pace—slow, methodical, each spank carefully placed for maximum effect. The Nymphobus said nothing as he disciplined me, his silence somehow more intimidating than any verbal admonishment could have been. There was something terribly impersonal about his punishment, as if I were merely an object to be corrected rather than a person who had transgressed.
I bit my lip hard, tasting copper as I tried to focus through the building pain. My stolen orgasm had given me a fleeting glimpse of Yggdrasil’s branches, but the connection had been severed the moment Lucius withdrew from me. Now, with each stinging slap against my tender flesh, I struggled to hold onto the clarity I’d briefly attained.
Beside me, Camille moaned, a desperate, needy sound that spoke of torturous frustration. I turned my head as much as the restraints would allow, catching a glimpse of her flushed face contorted in pleasure-pain as Brutus continued his relentless rhythm, keeping her perpetually on the edge of climax without allowing her to tumble over. Her dark hair clung to her sweat-dampened forehead, her eyes glazed with unsatisfied desire.
“Please,” she whispered, the word barely audible beneath the sound of Lucius’ palm connecting with my bottom again. “Please, I need…”
Brutus responded by slowing his thrusts even further, reducing them to a maddening tease that made Camille sob with frustration. The two Nymphobi worked in perfect tandem—one punishing, one denying, both demonstrating absolute control over our bodies and responses.
Another spank landed on my already burning bottom, harder than the ones before, making tears spring to my eyes. I gasped, the sound catching in my throat as Lucius’ fingertips grazed my swollen pussy.
In front of us, behind the table, Leo Marmareus seemed content to watch the lewd scene unfold without further comment. Through the haze of my backside’s agony, I understood that the Guardsman had decided to wait for the Sons of Odin to make the next move. Sven and Erik exchanged a glance.
“Is it true?” Sven asked suddenly, his deep voice cutting through the sounds of my punishment. “The space station in the Arctic?”
I tried to focus on their conversation through the burning pain radiating from my bottom, each of Lucius’ spanks sending fresh waves of fire across my skin. My tears flowed freely now, dripping onto the leather padding beneath my face.
Marmareus didn’t answer Sven’s question directly. His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable—calculation, perhaps, or a deeper form of assessment. The silence stretched between them, taut as a bowstring, before he finally spoke.
“Nymphobus Lucius,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of ancient authority, “this new Nupta requires more significant correction. Fuck her ass to continue her punishment.”
My heart lurched painfully in my chest at his words. Despite all the violations I’d endured, my anus remained the most intimate, private part of me. The idea of having the Nymphobus fuck me there while my true Herra watched made my heart quail.
“No,” I whimpered, the word escaping before I could stop it. “Please, I can’t—”
Lucius’ hand connected with my bottom again, silencing my protest with a particularly vicious spank that made me cry out. I felt him shift his position behind me, felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against my smallest entrance. The pressure was insistent but not yet forceful—a prelude to the inevitable invasion.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Sven rise to his feet in one fluid motion. The ruby-colored robe moved majestically around his powerful frame as he stood, his broad shoulders squared, his stance wide and commanding. He looked every inch the warrior-scholar, the Viking master whose dominance transcended time and culture.
Marmareus’ hand tightened visibly on the pistol, his knuckles flexing slightly, but very perceptibly. The tension in the chamber thickened, the air between the men seeming to crackle with unspoken threats and calculations. Behind me, Lucius paused, the head of his cock still resting against my anus as he awaited further instruction.
“For my group,” Sven said, his voice resonating through the chamber with quiet power, “the taking of a bed thrall’s bottom represents the ultimate mastery of her being.”
He paused, his ice-blue eyes locking with Marmareus’ dark ones across the obsidian table. The moment stretched, pregnant with significance, before Sven continued.
“And for the first time, I will name my group to you, Leo Marmareus. We are the Sons of Odin, guardians of the ancient ways, preservers of true civilization.”
A shiver ran through me at his words, at the deliberate claiming of identity after so much careful obfuscation.
“I believe,” Sven said, his voice carrying a scholarly authority that seemed to fill the vast chamber, “that the Guard calls the fucking of an initiate’s anus the act of civilization.”
Marmareus’ expression shifted subtly, his dark eyes narrowing with interest rather than suspicion. He inclined his head in a slight nod, his hand still resting casually atop the pistol.