Auction in Limoges Ch. 01

As the gavel came down and the penultimate auction item was led off the stage, Sophie shivered in fear and anticipation. She was next, and in the crowd she could already spot the men who had sampled her last night. How had it come to this?

Not a week ago, she had been happily lazing by the pool, trying to avoid bending back the spine of her romance novel and skipping a few pages ahead hoping to read something a little naughtier than a stolen kiss in the heat of battle. As the sun warmed her body she had let her imagination drift...if she had been writing the book, Inge the Viking heroine would have been in the thick of the battle, fearlessly leading her band of warriors deep into enemy territory. As the battle raged behind her she would have realised too late that she was surrounded and vastly outnumbered. It would have taken at least five men to subdue and capture her and she would have given no quarter, despite growing up around campfires alive with the legends about the ways in which Vikings' bodies became bargaining chips in the enemy camps.

Inge had always known that she wasn't the only Viking woman listening intently to those legends, perhaps not quite hearing them as the cautionary tale the elders had intended. But it wasn't until Helga, one of her closest friends, escaped and recounted in detail how she let herself be used and shared by the enemy fighters that Inge realised the intensity of her yearning to be forced into the same position.

And here she was, trussed and bound and being carried into camp by five lithe and muscled young men. She could smell their arousal. Damn, she could smell her own. The men wasted no time tying her to four stakes in the ground and hungrily cutting away her clothes to expose her without any care for her dignity.

As she waited to see what would be done with her, she recalled the conversation she had had with Helga the night Helga had returned to camp after escaping her captors. She still remembered the conversation as if it were yesterday. As Helga stumbled back into camp she was debriefed by the clan elders, telling of her capture and daring escape. But it was to Inge alone that she filled out the story with the details that Inge craved.

"I was coming to the end of my foraging expedition when I felt the tripwire, a heartbeat too late. Another heartbeat later I was hanging upside down four feet from the ground, caught in a snare.

"It was almost a relief when the enemy scouting party found me. With blood rushing to my head and a throbbing pain in my ankle, I felt a swift burst of gratitude as I was cut down.

"Effortlessly my lead captor threw me over his shoulder. But my gratitude dissolved into a stubborn determination to resist as I heard him and the rest of the scouting party discuss me as though I was their property:

'Remember our rules, boys' a svelte female archer called out with evident glee 'Whoever claims this wench can invite one other clan member to bargain with her tonight. And I have already been invited to play that role. The rest of you will have to wait for the free for all around the campfire tomorrow night.'

I knew about the legends, Inge, but there was no way I was going to offer my body to them in that way. I just couldn't."

As Helga recounted the conversation, her voice and manner betrayed the fear and reluctance she described feeling. Yet Inge couldn't fail to notice a flush in Helga's cheeks as she relived being talked about in that way. Viking battle dress was silk-like in its weightlessness, with a resistance to cutting that had saved both Inge and Helga's lives in the past. But it wasn't made with modesty in mind, and the thin material did little to hide Helga's swiftly hardening nipples. Inge could anticipate the way this story was going, and could feel her body starting to react with lustful desires of her own...

... Without warning Sophie found herself wrenched out of the fantasy and in the arms of her husband who, Thor-like in his unfathomable strength, picked her up and threw her into the pool. He knew just how to get her wet.

Thankfully he dived in after her, surfacing with a cheeky grin on his face. As he drew her legs around his waist, she could feel his hardening cock pressing invitingly just in the right place to bring her back to her daydream. She considered telling George about the vivid storyline in her head - he could help her weave a truly filthy tale after all - but she decided to save the story for later once they were alone. Perhaps she would tell him in the hammock, where they could delude themselves that they had some privacy and where she had so brazenly licked his cock not an hour earlier.

Still, there was nothing stopping her from having a little bit of fun right now was there? She repositioned George's cock so that it pressed firmly against her clit and bounced gently on him. 'What shall we play?' she asked mischievously, both knowing that they were already playing their favourite game. The thrill of floating in the water never grew old for Sophie, and she delighted in the way the buoyancy allowed her and George to be effortlessly physical with one another. The bouncing was an echo of the way they loved to make love, with George standing up and Sophie, limpet-like, wrapping her arms and legs around his torso, George's cock buried deep in her pussy.

Without immediately answering her question, George carried her out of the pool. As he ascended each step, she could feel the weightlessness of the water being replaced by the alluring strength of his arms and torso. Nevertheless, gravity was doing its work and the pressure on her clit as George walked over to the sun loungers was causing her willpower to resist him to crumble. If he was to throw her down onto the lounger, untie her bikini bottoms and make love to her right then, would she even try to stop him? She'd like to think that she would, but...

'Let's race!' George exclaimed. After two years of marriage, his offbeat approach to life still had the element of surprise. Here she was wet with anticipation of him taking her against her will, and he chooses this moment to answer the question she had almost forgotten she'd asked?

'Butterfly. Two lengths. The loser has to do a forfeit.' George proposed gleefully. Sophie knew exactly what forfeit George had in mind if he won, and with his strength she had no doubt he would. She had been surprised at how exciting it had been to allow George to peel away her inhibitions one by one over the past two weeks. In the past few days, she had caught herself finding spurious reasons to stand fully nude at the open bathroom window, enjoying a beautiful sunset as a car drove past with an uninterrupted view of her body. Still, she enjoyed keeping a pretence of innocence as she accepted the challenge. After all, as the far better swimmer she could be forgiven for expecting to win and so it was reasonable for her to assume she would be setting the forfeit.

As the race started she still hadn't decided whether to swim to win, or to deliberately lose in anticipation of being forced to submit to George's forfeit. She needn't have concerned herself, though; George's technique wasn't pretty but through brute force he won by a slim margin. As she realised the implications her pulse quickened, but she hid it well, laughing at his evident glee and half - heartedly suggesting best of three.

George was having none of it, and swiftly changed tone: 'Shower now, please, and then prepare your body for your forfeit.' The polite language did nothing to conceal the steely tone. Sophie realised that in racing, and losing, she had relinquished all power. With a facade of reluctance, she submitted willingly to his commands, allowing herself to be led by the hand upstairs and into the walk in shower. She thought she knew what awaited her, and the fire in her pussy began to glow at the thought.