Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
“This bride saddle belonged to my ancestors,” Aksel said, running his hand along the curved wood with reverence. “Fifteen generations of Sons of Odin have used it to train their bed thralls.” He turned to me, his expression serious. “You’ll be bound to it, whipped for your transgression, and then I’ll claim your røvhul. Through that combination of punishment and violation, you’ll ascend higher into Yggdrasil than you’ve managed before.”
My entire body trembled at his words. The thing I’d been both dreading and desiring all week was about to happen. My most private place would be breached, claimed, while I was bound and helpless. The thought made me clench so hard I whimpered.
“Strip,” Aksel commanded, already moving to adjust something on the bride saddle. “Everything off. Then come here.”
My hands shook as I removed my rumpled clothing, letting each piece fall to the fur-covered floor. The collar around my throat seemed to pulse with warmth, and somehow I thought I could already feel that strange clarity beginning to creep in at the edges of my vision. When I stood naked before my Herra, he guided me to the saddle with firm hands.
“Mount it,” he said, helping me position myself over the curved wood. “When you are on my saddle, you are both rider and steed.”
The leather padding was soft against my inner thighs as I spread myself wide to accommodate the saddle’s width. My bare pussy pressed against the smooth surface, already leaving a shameful mark of wetness.
Aksel reached over me, then around me, efficiently binding my wrists to iron rings set into the wood in front of me, forcing me to lean forward slightly. Then he secured my ankles to the base, spreading my legs even wider until I felt completely exposed, my bottom raised and presented. The posture left me utterly revealed, unable to close my legs or shield any part of myself from his gaze or his touch.
“Perfect,” he murmured, running his hand over my raised bottom. “Now, you’ll receive twenty strokes with the strap for coming without permission. Count them.”
I heard him retrieve the leather strap from somewhere behind me, and my whole body tensed in anticipation. When the first blow landed across both cheeks, the fire that exploded through my flesh made me cry out.
“One!” I gasped, my hands clenching uselessly against the bonds.
The second stroke fell immediately below the first, and I sobbed out, “Two!”
By the tenth stroke, I had begun to wail, my bottom burning with an intensity that seemed to radiate through my entire being. But something else was happening too. With each impact of leather on flesh, I felt myself rising, my consciousness beginning to separate from my body even as the pain kept me grounded in the physical moment.
“Fifteen,” I whimpered as the strap caught the tender spot where bottom met thighs.
The collar grew warm against my throat, and suddenly the wooden beams of Aksel’s hús began to shimmer and transform. Silver branches materialized around us, growing from the bride saddle itself, reaching upward into impossible heights. I was ascending even as my body remained bound, climbing through Yggdrasil’s infinite canopy while the strap continued to fall.
“Twenty!” I screamed as the final blow landed precisely across my sit spots.
“Good girl,” Aksel said, setting the strap aside. I heard him moving behind me, and then felt the cool touch of oil being drizzled between my burning cheeks. His finger circled my bottom-hole, spreading the slickness, preparing me for his enormous manhood. “Now your Herra will mount you.”
CHAPTER 13
Lorna
The blunt head of his cock pressed against that forbidden entrance, and I let out a broken sob. Even with the oil, even with his finger having prepared me, the size of him seemed impossible. The burning from the strap across my bottom made every nerve ending hypersensitive, and I could feel myself trembling violently against the bonds.
“Breathe, little one,” Aksel commanded, one hand settling on my lower back while the other guided himself against me. “Your body knows how to submit. Let it happen.”
I tried to follow his instruction, forcing myself to take deep breaths even as I felt him begin to push inside. The pressure was overwhelming, a burning stretch that made tears stream down my face. My bottom-hole resisted at first, clenching tight against the invasion, but Aksel was relentless. Millimeter by millimeter, he pressed forward.
“No, please,” I gasped, even though I knew I didn’t mean it. “It’s too much, you’re too big—”
“You can take it,” he said, his voice carrying that absolute certainty that made my body believe him even when my mind rebelled. “Your røvhul was made to serve your Herra this way.”
The collar burned against my throat like a brand. I closed my eyes. I saw the tree, looked up into its canopy, and began to rise. Suddenly the silver branches around me in the vision began to pulse with light. Each tiny movement of his cock pressing deeper sent me climbing higher through Yggdrasil’s infinite expanse.