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)
“Who the fuck is that?” I growled, my fingers digging into the back of Erik’s chair as I leaned closer to the screen.
“According to the system, that’s Leo Marmareus,” Erik replied, his voice tight with tension. “He’s the agent who ran the extraction team, remotely from their HQ.”
I watched, my throat dry, as this Marmareus—this enemy—advanced on Mary. His movements seemed fluid, controlled, the stance of a man completely confident in his dominance. He clearly had extensive training, not just in combat, but in the darker arts of sexual mastery. The way he wielded the mastix, with casual expertise, told me everything I needed to know about his skill level.
“Mary,” he said, his voice carrying clearly through the surveillance system’s audio, “you will now learn what it means to disobey a Leo of the Pretorian Guard.”
I saw Mary’s throat work as she swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Her nipples had hardened to stiff peaks—not from cold, I knew, but from the complex alloy of fear and arousal that I had cultivated in her during our time together. To my dismay and yet also to my pride, I could see that her training was responding to this man’s dominance, her body betraying her even as her mind might resist.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice small, but still defiant. “I don’t understand what you want from me.”
Marmareus smiled, a predatory expression that sent a surge of jealous rage through me. “What I want is irrelevant at the moment, Columba. What matters is what you need—discipline, structure, submission.”
I felt my cock harden painfully beneath my loincloth as I watched him flick the mastix, causing the leather tails to dance in the air. The sound made Mary flinch, her eyes following the movement with a mix of terror and fascination. In the midst of my concern—no, my fear—for her safety and well-being, I couldn’t deny the primal response of my own body to the scene unfolding before me.
I turned to Erik.
“We’re going to start the extraction mission today,” I told him. “Get Aksel working on the airline tickets.”
Mary
I screamed as the mastix lashed across my skin, the knotted tails finding every sensitive spot with unerring accuracy. Each strike sent fire racing through my nerves, pain blossoming like dark flowers beneath my skin. The sound of leather coming down on bare skin echoed in the small cell, along with my helpless cries and Marmareus’ measured breathing.
“Please,” I sobbed, my fingers clutching desperately at the thin mattress. “Please stop!”
“This is nothing,” Marmareus said calmly, his voice a stark contrast to the violence of his actions. “A mere taste of what awaits girls like you.”
Another lash fell across my thighs, making me buck and howl. The mastix was unlike any implement I’d experienced before—not even Beaumont’s cane had prepared me for this unique blend of stinging pain and spreading warmth. Each strike seemed to ignite my skin, yet somehow the pain transformed as it radiated outward, melting into a heat that reached deep into my core.
“Your body understands what your mind refuses to accept,” Marmareus continued, landing another precise stroke across the tender junction where my bottom met my thighs. “Look how your pussy weeps for attention even as you beg me to stop.”
I burned with shame at his words, knowing they contained a horrible truth. Despite the pain, and to my horror because of it, too, my body had begun to respond with mortifying enthusiasm. I could feel the wetness gathering between my legs, my inner walls clenching with each strike of the mastix.
As Marmareus continued my punishment, I felt a strange shift within myself. The völva part of me—the seer, the one connected to Yggdrasil—seemed to detach slightly, observing from a distance even as my physical body endured the discipline. This part of me noted with cool appreciation how closely Marmareus’ technique mirrored Sven’s—the careful attention to varying the strikes, the deliberate focus on sensitive areas, the way he read my body’s responses and adjusted accordingly.
I felt nearly as thoroughly dominated as I had felt when Sven disciplined me. The thought slipped unbidden into my consciousness, and I couldn’t deny its truth. Something about Marmareus’ confidence, his unwavering certainty, echoed my true master’s dominance. The realization disturbed me deeply, yet I couldn’t push it away.
I even thought I might have felt the opposite way if Leo Marmareus had taken my virginity, trained me, and sent me to spy on the Sons of Odin. The thought crashed through my consciousness with the force of revelation, leaving me gasping in its wake. Would I then have seen Sven as the enemy, as the dangerous stranger whose dominance threatened to unravel everything I believed in? Would I have felt this same confused tangle of resistance and surrender when faced with Sven’s mastery?
The mastix fell again, its knotted tails finding the sensitive undersides of my breasts. I arched my back, a strangled cry tearing from my throat. The pain blossomed, bright and sharp, then transformed into something darker, heavier, settling in my core with a weight that made my pussy clench and weep.