How to Tame Your Thrall

Caitlin met his gaze, her expression earnest. "I will do those things. We have an agreement, Thorsten, my.." she stumbled, " my master?"

Thorsten nodded. "Master it is. Now, come here, brave Caitlin," he said, gently, and held out his arms. Caitlin hesitated, then shuffled forwards into Thorsten's embrace. She stiffened momentarily at the unfamiliar feeling of his strong arms closing around her, then to his surprised delight, he felt the tension drain from her. She leant her head against his broad chest. Her arms crept around his waist, her eyes drifting closed. Thorsten stroked her back, soothing her, enjoying the sensation of her soft body nestling against him.

They could have stayed like that for a long time had Stone not spotted the half-eaten bannock in Caitlin's hand and made a grab for it. With a yelp she pulled back and glared at the dog, who whined and crouched but still wolfed down the remnants of bread. She growled fiercely, then giggled and called him an ill-mannered lout, which earned her a lick from him and a shout of laughter from his master.

"One day, you will have to tell me how you turned my savage hounds into your lap dogs. Right, missy," he said, mock-sternly. "From the smell of you, your last request is the most urgent. I'll find you some soap, and show you where to bathe."

"And do you promise to not look?" she grinned up at him impishly.

"Hmmmm...was that one of your conditions, Cait? No looking at my beautiful new thrall as she bathes?" His voice, though light, held a hint of seriousness, and Caitlin understood that their new arrangement meant that he'd respect her wishes on this subject.

She thought for a moment, then, unexpectedly, she reached forwards to plant a soft kiss on his lips. She tasted of apple, bread, and tears. The taste of life, Thorsten thought. "My master Thorsten may watch if he so pleases," she murmured coyly.

...

The stream wound down past the house and on into the valley below. In a clearing just below the place where Caitlin had collected water, several enormous rocks had been placed across the width of the stream. The makeshift dam created a still pool, deep enough in the centre for a tall man to stand with his waist under the surface of the water. The glade was surrounded by bushes and flowering brambles, amongst which the bees buzzed in the late spring sunshine. Caitlin paused as she entered the clearing. Behind her, Thorsten smiled proudly at her soft indrawn breath.

"But...it is so beautiful.." she whispered. He patted her head.

"That it is, wench," he replied, then gave her a gentle smack on the bottom. She turned and scowled at him playfully before lifting her now beltless gown over her head, followed by her under-gown. He grimaced at the sight of the purple bruises forming on her shoulders. Caitlin, not noticing, armed herself with a bar of lye soap and splashed into the pool.

Thorsten made himself comfortable on the grass and watched her make her way into the deepest part, gasping as the cold water reached past her belly to half-cover her breasts. She lifted her hands to her head and began to unbraid her long plait, white fingers working quickly in the russet mass. Soon her shoulders and back were covered in a cloak of gleaming hair that drifted around her in the still water. She turned to face the recumbent Thorsten.

"Will you join me, master?" she called to him. He considered for a moment, watching the water shining and dripping off her beautiful body, then shook his head regretfully.

"No, Cait. I'll bathe later," he replied. When my cock isn't so hard I could split rocks with it, he added silently.

Her face held a calculating gleam for a moment, then she nodded obediently and turned away, wading out of the water to stand thigh-deep with her back to him. She rubbed the soap between her hands then smoothed them slowly down her back, gliding her fingers between her buttocks and squeezing them invitingly. Thorsten

groaned to himself as he saw the pale flesh dimple under her fingers and caught the sound of her soft murmur of pleasure. She's doing this on purpose to test my resolve, he thought with a wry grimace. He stayed where he was, determined to keep his promise and to content himself with enjoying the gentle torture his woman was inflicting on him.

Caitlin turned and began to run her soapy hands down her torso. She cupped her rounded breasts, stroking the soft, yielding mounds, her fingers sliding slickly around the dark pink nipples. She shot a quick glance at him and he stifled another groan. The little hell-cat... he thought affectionately, as the ache in his trousers increased.

"I think...they're clean, wench.." he croaked out.

"Yes, master," she replied in a deliberately sultry voice. Her hands slid from her breasts, making their way slowly down her waist. Suddenly, she gave a panicked shriek and disappeared under the water. Thorsten

frowned. He waited a moment but she didn't surface. Concerned, he stood up and saw her hand waving frantically below the surface of the pool. He tore his tunic and boots off and rushed into the pool, only to find himself pulled off-balance and into the water by a pair of wet arms wrapped around his neck. She surfaced, laughing breathlessly, next to her sodden, flailing master.

"You little.." Thorsten roared and grabbed her. Caitlin squealed, struggling against him as he pinned her easily to his chest.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she cried out, trying unsuccessfully to stem her giggles as she looked up at his dripping hair and beard.

"Oh, Girl, you're going to be sorrier..." he promised her, as he waded out of the pool with her wriggling wet body firmly held in his arms. He dropped her gently on her back on the cool grass, holding her down easily with one hand between her breasts, the other loosely clasping her wrists. He looked at her.

"What did I promise, Girl?" he growled. She looked up into his blue-grey eyes, her chest heaving beneath his hand.

"You said...you would not take me...without my will.." she whispered. Her face held a glimmer of wariness now.

"Mmhmm..." he said. "Did I say anything about not doing...this..?" Thorsten leaned back, pinning her legs between his powerful thighs. He stroked his hands down her breasts, catching and rolling her nipples between his calloused thumbs and forefingers, feeling them harden beneath his touch.

"Ohhh...no, you did not..." Caitlin replied softly. She closed her eyes, sighing with pleasure.

"Or this?" He continued, dipping his head to take a hard nub between his lips and bite down gently. She gave a quiet, needy whimper in reply. He smiled and ran his tongue around and around her areola, hearing her soft moans, feeling her arching her back against the soft ground. He switched sides, teasing and licking, biting down to elicit a tiny gasp of delight from her. One hand continued to caress her free breast, the other drifted slowly down her taut belly to nudge her legs apart.

"Hmmm. How about..." he stroked gently, teasingly, up her leg from mid-thigh, stopping just short of her cunt. He pulled back in mock concern as she tried to wriggle herself closer to his fingers. "No?"

She looked up at him, lips parted, her golden eyes dark with desire. "No..." she said, huskily. "You did not promise not to do that." She reached a hand down to grab his wrist, placing his hand firmly between her thighs again. He smirked and began to stroke her inner thighs, slowly, teasingly, enjoying her half-stifled noises of frustration as he stopped each time just where the soft skin gave way to silky still-wet curls. He dipped his hand between her legs to stroke, maddeningly gently, again and again. His smile widened as he noticed her body tensing with need. He lifted his head and gently kissed her, then looked deep into her eyes.

"Tell me what you want, Girl," he said, softly.

In place of an answer, she reached up and pulled his head down, kissing him passionately, her tongue pressing against his lips. Her hands were on his clothes, tugging urgently at his trousers. "Please," she said, urgently. "Please."

Thorsten rejoiced at how easily he'd turned the tables on his lovely thrall. He smirked down at her. "Please? Please what, Girl? Please stop?"

"Noooo..." she whimpered, wriggling seductively beneath him. Her hands squeezed and caressed his cock through the damp material.

"Oh!" he said in mock understanding. "Please do this, perhaps?" he slowly slid a finger between her legs, finding her clit and stroking it firmly. She made a soft whinnying noise of mingled surprise and pleasure, and he chuckled. His other hand reached down to stroke her labia, one finger slipping briefly into her wetness.

She parted her legs further for him, her breathing ragged, her eyes closed in delight as he worked first one, then two fingers into her, rubbing and stroking her as his fingers worked on her hard little nub. Her movements became jerky, her face flushing, head tipping back as she lost herself in the wonderful sensations. She moaned wantonly, tilting her torso up to let him thrust deeper into her, then wailed in disappointment as he withdrew his fingers from her cunt and held them up to her, glistening with her juices.

"Oh dear," Thorsten murmured. "Seems I have something on my fingers. Perhaps I'd better go wash them?" He shifted his weight as if to rise.

"NO!" she yelped. She grabbed his hand in both of hers and pulled his fingers down to her mouth, eagerly lapping her saltiness from his fingers before suckling first one, then the other. Her voice shook with lust. "Thorsten, master. Please...please take me now."

He rocked back on his heels, considering her. "Hmmm. I'm not sure, Girl. I mean, look at me..." he gestured to his wet chest, his soaked trousers. "Do you think that my fucking you now is a suitable reward for your wicked trick?"

Her cheeks flushed with shame and she dropped her gaze. "No, master," she whispered penitently.

Thorsten gently lifted her chin until she looked at him once more. Leaning forward he kissed her, soft and deep, tasting her juices on her tongue as he explored her mouth. His hands fumbled with his trousers, tugged them down and off.

Once naked, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them both over until she was lying his chest. His hands explored her back and squeezed her firm buttocks as they kissed. Caitlin responded by rubbing her belly and crotch sinuously against his thickness, letting him feel her soft skin and silken curls on his aching shaft.

He groaned as she stopped, then she grabbed his shoulders and hauled herself up to straddle him. She leaned forwards to claim his mouth with her own. Her breasts swung against his chest, nipples tracing an erotic pattern on his skin as she held herself poised above him. Thorsten growled with lust, grabbed her hips and slowly pushed her down onto his shaft.

"Ohhhhhhh..." he exhaled, feeling himself filling her warm, throbbing cunt. She responded with a soft shivering cry of satisfaction as he slid her all the way down to rest on him. Looking up into her face, he saw nothing but desire and pleasure. One large palm caressed her smooth cheek. She turned her head and kissed it tenderly, then reached forwards and started to ride him, slowly at first, then faster, more urgently. Her breasts bounced against her chest until he captured them in his hands, pinching her nipples hard.

She let out a deep, lustful groan and leaned into his grip, wanting more, her fingers hard on his shoulders. He moved one hand up to grasp and hold her throat, whilst the other slid down to hold her narrow waist, forcing her down onto his cock, harder and faster now. Her cries grew louder and she began to shudder uncontrollably between his hands, her cunt clenching and pulsing wildly around him as she came. As her orgasm reached its peak he felt his cock pumping and swelling. He yelled in release, his seed shooting deep inside her. She sat on him for a moment longer, panting heavily, then gave a final moan and half-lay, half fell forward onto his chest. His big arms wrapped around her, holding her to him.

For a long time they simply lay there together in the dappled sunshine, their two bodies entwined like one creature, his hands slowly caressing her smooth skin. Finally, Thorsten gently stroked the hair from her face and lifted his head to look at her.

"Well, my Cait?" he murmured. "Do you regret teasing your master?"

Her red lips parted in a satisfied smile as she shook her head. "No," she said gently. "I do not. I am yours. I wanted to be yours, like this, from the morning after we left the boat." She fell silent, and he remembered her expression in the meadow as he'd massaged her feet. Suddenly, all of her strange behaviour became clear. She could have been mine all along... he bit his lip as he remembered how badly he'd repaid her affection for him. Sitting up, he put his arms around her and cradled her to his chest. He buried his face in her hair.

"Oh, my Cait..." he said in a voice thick with the overwhelming mixture of tenderness, guilt, desire and affection that he felt for her. She nestled close, reached up her hand to his cheek and turned his face to look at her. Their eyes met in perfect understanding.

"Hush now, my Thorsten," she whispered. "All is well."

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Thank you for reading. Ratings and (constructive) comments are always welcome.

Thanks go to Southern Crossfire for his wise words and editing assistance, and to my own Viking oaf, Malich, for his encouragement and ideas and...well, everything.

The "Celtic" used in this story is actually modern Scots Gaelic. Translations are as follows:

gorach - stupid

Mhac na galla - son of a bitch

Mo chasan! - my feet!

Tolla-thon - arsehole

Wyrd bith araed (Old English) - Fate is inexorable, a phrase taken from the Old English poem The Wanderer. The actual phrase is "wyrd bith ful araed"