Thread: LADY SLAVE (DEVIANTDESIRE & OGION)

In the kitchen, Ragnar was eating a piece of chicken with one hand, and with the other, turned over a drawer, spilling its contents, which rattled loudly on the floor. He stooped and lifted a fork. He examined it with interest. Heavy footsteps sounded behind him. One of his comrades, another giant with shaggy red hair, covered with bear skins, approached him. I owe you a copper Ragnar said, you were right. They eat with things made of silver. I told you, said the redhaired and tapped his right temple with the point of one finger these nobles are crazy. Sounds of quarrel reached them, from the hall of the castle. The barbarian threw away the piece of chicken and headed there, striding fast, followed by his companion. Upon arrival they found two of their comrades A stocky one with a thick black beard and another older, with long white hair. They were tugging at a huge tapestry, throwing insults at each other, while half dozen warriors cheered for one or the other. The barbarians had destroyed the old furniture in the room, looking for valuables, and had filled their bags with giant golden chandeliers. Enough you two or I ... Ragnar shouted at them, but immediately stopped and glanced upwards. What is it? asked the redhead. Ragnar smirked I hear pussy. The singing of the woman led the warriors to the first floor. The door, behind from which came the singing, was not very thick and it quickly gave up to the onslaught of Ragnar and one of his men, falling with a crash. The barbarians stormed into a crowded room. Before Ragnar could get a better look, In front of him there was a menacing geezer holding a sword that he could barely hold firmly. A quick blow from Ragnars sword and the old mans hand was flying through the air. Another one and his head parted his shoulders and rolled over the floor, stopping at the feet of two little twin bitches, who screamed in terror and embraced each other, huddling against a corner. Two old priestess stood holding up the strange symbols of their gods and singing a kind of song. They tried to come between the warriors and the other women, Logen, the redheaded, slapped one of them so hard she flew to one sided and landed heavily face down. The other onw he just shoved to the side, making her fall against a wall. Ragnar wondered what kind of God used women to defend his cause? It was despicable. Ragnars men filled the chamber. Some fur covered, others almost naked, showing their powerful muscles, covered in sweat, from all corners of north they had come. Some snow white, others with darker features, all fearsome, all lusting for gold and warm holes to bury their swords. There was a moment of silence. The two groups exchanged glances. The men looked at women with leering smiles. As for the women, some looked scared, some cried and others feigned impassivity. Ragnar, the chieftain, paced slowly, watching each pussy with lustful eyes and the leer of wolf on its preys. Some would be fucked right there and discarded, others, the young ones were to be taken as slaves for the fields, the houses and the specially the beds. He evaluated her hips, her legs and her tits, but mostly he focused on their faces. There were different kinds of pussys. Some freezed, like a scared buck, and peed and shitted themselves when they saw him. Some begged and cried, some just screamed and screamed louder, knowing no amount of begging could possibly move someone like him, some just tried to be brave and preserver their dignity, and didnt begged nor cried or screamed, but remained with faces as carved in rock. He liked this kind, because he enjoyed making them yelp like bitches. They all screamed in the end. Some think they can fight back, he kind of liked them too. He liked showing them whos the man and who the mere woman, but sometimes they fought too much and he had to kill them. He didnt like that. No good in a dead pussy slave. One face, at the bottom called his attention. A beautiful redhead with pale skin, a constellation of freckles on her childish face and the most suckable perky tits. Proud and strong, with her defying looks and a chin always pointing up. That one was the kind he liked best. He approached her and loomed with his gigantic frame over her small figure. He evaluated her for a long time. Her tits were perfect, not too small, not too big, her hips harmonious, her legs beautifully shaped and her angelic face full of pride and defiance. This one was special, not just a rape. This one was to be enjoyed slowly and for a long time, like a delicious meal. My name is Ragnar he growled, but from now on you will call me Master. He grabbed her red hair, pulled it hard to his nose, making her trip and fall against his mighty chest. He inhaled deeply. I like how you, noble pussies, smell. A nice change from the dirty peasant bitches. His powerful arm surrounded her hips and pulled even closer against him. She could feel his raging erection against her groin. He smelled her neck and her cleavage, as if he was a dog.