The Vikings


The long ship beached gently on the sands of a northern, British shore and Leif quietly motioned to his crew that it was once more time to do make them worthy of the name Viking. The spring sun and morning breeze welcomed them and he pointed silently at the smoke rising from the nearby Saxon village. They did not expect much resistance - the simple spears of these poor farmers would be no match for Viking swords, axes and berserkers. They ran silently along the sands, hoping to surprise the villagers before most where awake. Leif was flanked by two men in bearskin; they had partaken of the mushroom this night and were wild-eyed and ready to fight to the death, and were sure to put the fear of God into these peasants. Not that Leif believed in any Christian God, but he was careful to respect Odin, who was sure to welcome them to Valhalla and eternal feasting and whoring should their luck and skill run out one day. In the meantime, Leif was glad to have Olav and Baard at his side. With shields and an axe or a sword, plus strong leather clothing and chain mail, and horned helmets, they felt invincible. Behind them was a strong and experienced group who had sailed across the Northern Sea for two years, picking the spoils of war and returning to the Northern Way before winter. Leif trusted each with his life, as a harsh existence on land and at sea had taught them all the value of friendship and trust.

Their ship had been spotted! He heard the anguished cries of women and children as they hurried to escape, and heard the guttural yells of weary men who hastily made ready to protect the little they had.

The first spears were easily parried and the Saxons wisely decided to save their weapons for hand-to-hand combat. He almost admired their foolish bravery as their clumsy spears where cut in two by sword and axe and their blood spilled on the golden sand. He engaged the strongest, as befitted a leader, and received for his pains a spear wound to the shoulder. But his protective clothing prevented any real damage and the surprised Saxon, caught off balance, was cut and overturned by Leif's sword. The Saxon lay bleeding and pleading on the sands and Leif ended his misery with a deep and violent stab to the stomach. Leif withdrew the bloody sword and felt his blood pumping in frenzy. The others were inside the gates now and he followed. He was pleased the women and children had escaped - to the church no doubt. They would sack that prize later. But now he and his men deserved some breakfast...


He felt pain as a sharp knife penetrated his exposed and muscular upper arm. Instinctively he swiped at his attacker with his shield, and prepared to deliver the death blow. To his surprise he found himself looking down at a young woman, clad in little more than rags. He didn't know what to take in first...the pain in his arm, or the vision of her pale and smooth thighs barely covered by cloth, her full bosom heaving beneath tatters, or her fiery red hair, blazing eyes and pouting, angry lips.

Olav and Baard were at his side in an instant and raised their weapons to smite his assailant.

"Nay!" he heard himself say. "She ... is mine to punish. Besides...she may prove useful."

In truth he had been smitten not by her knife but by her beauty, and was reminded of how many days now since he had left his woman on a far shore and vowed to return. Weeks on a heaving ship with the stink of fish and men. By Thor how he longed to be penetrating with more than his sword!

"Let her attend to my wound. Make ready a pole to which we can tie her while we feast. Your stomachs and eyes deserve a reward! Olav! Bind her feet that she may not escape. Her hands are to be free while she treats my wound. Hold your sword to her throat and make her understand!"

Leif was pleased to be close to her face. He studied her and she averted her eyes, she trembled but was clearly adept at caring for wounded men. He dearly longed to taste those lips...imagined how they would look wrapped around his cock...imagined what he would do to with the mighty erection that was forming under his tunic. He enjoyed the sight of youthful breasts jiggling behind her ragged clothes. As she finished her work he grabbed an orb and she pulled away but he gained the satisfaction of eye contact. Two fiery souls stared at each other defiantly. He smiled and said, "Takk!"

Before she could pull away from him completely he stood up and towered over her, holding her slender arms behind her. Baard removed the bindings around her ankles so she could walk. Leif stood behind her and steered her towards the centre of the party, there was a fire surrounded by his men and a horizontal branch in place as he had ordered. He gently nudged the small of her back with the erection she had unwittingly caused. She struggled as he held her arms out parallel with the pole and Leif commanded Olav to bind her upper arms and wrists to it.

"Does not your leader deserve some mead, my warriors?" he asked rhetorically.

He drank deeply of the ale and proffered some to the girl. She turned her face away so he emptied some of the remains over her breasts. The liquid dripped over the remnants of her clothes and reached her thighs and started to drip onto the sand.

"Such a waste of good mead. I do not want my sailors to go thirsty!" With that he ripped the flimsy cloth from her bosom and poured the last of his cup onto her bare breasts.

The Vikings cheered. Leif knew how to keep his men loyal and happy.

He knelt before the girl and licked the drops of ale carefully from her breasts, paying particular attention to the nipples that were slowly stiffening. She cursed and swore at him and he thought himself lucky who did not understand...

He held her hips and licked the droplets from her navel. He lifted her skirt and licked each rivulet from her firm young thighs, moving his tongue higher and higher until he smelt her sex...he smiled and lowered her skirt.

"Let us feast men! We still have the church to find and she will lead us to it! Until then - enjoy her breasts as I have done. There will be no rape or that man will answer to my sword! I deserve that young cunt as payment for my wound! But release your tensions by all means...I will observe."

They lowered the pole so the woman could rest upon her knees, the servile position ideal for the humiliation to follow.

One by one the Vikings approached the young female and felt her breasts, or licked her nipples, or tried to kiss her, stroking their rigid members until they came. Their hot come spurted onto her face, or eyes, or lips, or breasts, she trembled with fear and shame as the hot white fluid cooled and trickled over her pure white skin. The wind blew gently over her and her nipples strutted in the cold.

When covered with the come of twenty men she stared at the floor, ashamed at her cunt which twitched and dripped its own juices.

Leif took another swig of ale and strode towards her and lifted her come-soaked face. He pulled her long hair away from her pale and slender neck and held a dagger to her jugular. He released his erection from the confines of his tunic and presented it to her lips.


The Vikings roared their appreciation as the frightened girl opened her lips to allow entry to the throbbing member. Ahhh...Leif had longed for the warm softness that was woman for so long now...and this one proved adept in the art of sucking. She even teased the head of his cock with her tongue and looked up eagerly for approval.

He smiled and withdrew, he was keen to explore her other assets. He ripped away the remains of her skirt and the crew cheered as her cunt was revealed. Swollen lips and red hair there too, he noted.

"Lower the pole to the ground, men."

The girl was forced to kneel with her face to the ground, she turned her head to be more comfortable and keep an eye on her defiler.

Leif was rewarded with the sight of a firm, heart-shaped arse upturned and ready for him. He slapped her inner thighs with the shaft of his knife, when she failed to move her knees wider apart he nicked her thighs lightly with the blade, drawing blood. She quickly spread for him. "Bastard!" she cried, sobbing, but secretly longing to feel his hot cock inside her.

Leif spread her cheeks, admiring her moistened quim and pink arsehole. He remembered how his woman at home always denied him access to this her most private of places, and knowing that here was one for the taking made him wild with desire. He would attend to this lust later; now he must come, and take payment for the wrong this wench had done him. He fingered her cunt and enjoyed her moans, teased her by rubbing her anus with her fluids.

To his surprise she arched her back and pushed back on his finger, and moaned. By Odin this vixen liked it!

He could wait no longer. Kneeling behind her he rubbed her quim with the head of his cock until her lips parted. As his cock head felt warm moistness he thrust into her, they both sighed at the long awaited pleasure. His hands nearly encircled her wasp-thin waist as he pulled her hips backwards impaling her again and again on his member. He reached under her and squeezed her nipples hard until she screamed as he thrust into her. He took some of the come from her breastbone and smeared it between her arse cheeks, tickling her anus with a rotating thumb until it slid partly inside.

"Aaargh! Yes! Come on Norseman fuck me harder, you bastard!"

There was no denying her passion, although Leif understood little of what she said. The language of two bodies yearning for orgasm was, for now, all they had.

He pushed downwards with cock and rubbed its head along the front wall of her vagina, stimulating her slowly before a new series of thrusts. It was too much, the sight of this perfect naked bum before him, her squeals of pain and pleasure, her hot and slippery cunt...

Leif roared his satisfaction as he pumped what seemed like the pent up come of weeks deep into her vagina.

He was suddenly aware of the men around him, raising their glasses in appreciation at the show.

He arose, and bade his men raise the pole once more so the girl was standing. She was quite a sight, with straggly hair, piercing eyes, breathless and wet with sweat and blood and semen. Someone fetched some water and dowsed her until she was cleaner, she stood there dripping and shivering. She was still aroused and almost wanted another fucking, so near to orgasm was she. Leif sensed this, and laid claim to his property. He released her and put his arm around her, wrapping her in cloth and led her to a hut where she could put on some clothes. He enjoyed watching her as she dressed, heavy breasts swinging as she moved, that sweet lovely arse once more slowly hidden from him. He would have that part of her too, he vowed, before he had to return.

But now they needed to move on to the church and richer pickings. He made the sign of the cross and said "kirke." Pointing to her, and himself, he made clear she was to lead the way.

Before they left the hut, he embraced her and kissed her. "Leif," he said, pointing to himself.

"Inga," she replied, smiling at his sudden insistence on protocol. Better to let this rough stranger take care of her than be left at the mercy of his men. Besides, she wanted to do him again, so many hidden lusts he had awoken in her. She wondered how his cock would feel in her bum, if it would hurt, or if she would bleed. Or if she would come as never before when his hot seed spurted deep within her while she rubbed herself. She also wondered, once they had sacked the church, and taken other riches, if he would like to look after her forever...well, she certainly had a trick or two left to make him addicted to her. She walked before him out into the morning sunshine, making sure he got a good look at her firm young curves wriggling beneath the cheap, thin, Saxon cloth.

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