January 26, 2011

• The Norseman

  Chapter 1, Jan

       Huddled in the large straw hut, Adrianna knew she would soon become a plaything of her captor.  She peeked out of the hut to see Norsemen everywhere she looked.  This hut was located in the middle of their camp and running away would be impossible.  She could see a few other women.  One was tied to a tree.  Her dress was ripped and hanging off of her like rags.  She was covered in mud.  Another was being shared by a group of men who stood in a circle and tossed her from one to the other where they each took liberties with her body, poking and spanking and grabbing her.  One, an older woman, seemed to be enjoying herself – flirting, laughing, and singing with a group of men.  She moved around the group of men freely sitting on their laps and offering her breasts and ass to the men as she moved. 

       The Norsemen had come once before about ten years ago when she was a little girl – too little to be of any sexual interest to the men.  She fled with her grandmother and lived in the hills hiding until they left.  They stayed for weeks and when they left, her mother who had been a captive, was freed but never spoke of her experiences.  The Norsemen were bigger than the local men, and came in large numbers.  They took what they wanted and killed anyone who dared defy them.  Not many defied them; most just ran.  The invaders chased them but mostly to grab the women. After the chase, they would sack the village for food, drink and other items that interested them.

       Adrianna’s captor was an especially big and fast man.  Adrianna was a full grown young woman and known within the village for her speed but she was no match for this man who continued to close the gap and when he reached her picked her up like twig.  She struggled to free herself from him to no avail.  He carried her to his hut and tossed her inside.  As she tumbled in, she almost fell into the fire pan in the middle of the hut.  He didn’t bother to tie her up.  Then after a few minutes he left.  Hours passed.   Many men walked past the hut and she could hear them talking in their strange language and frequently laughing.

       The hut was warm and fairly spacious.  A number of animal skins covered the dirt floor.  Adrianna contemplated her predicament.  She would be expected to have sex with her captor and possibly others.  She cried, sobbing quietly trying not to draw attention.  Resistance would be futile.  She was just a girl.  True she had grown into a woman but she had yet to have sex with any of the boys in the village.  Some fondling had gone on and she had become an expert at giving the boys a release using her mouth, her hands, and other parts of her body but she had been saving her most intimate area for marriage.  She wondered if John would still want to marry her after she had been violated.

       By the time he returned, she had quit her crying.  She had tried to straighten up her dress which was torn in the struggle.  There was a rip near the waist area where he held her.  Her chemise which ran from her breasts to just below her knees could be seen through the slit.  He came back into the hut carrying two large pots full of water.  He immediately placed one on top of the fire pan.  He began to wash himself with the water in the other.  Using a cloth he dipped it in the pot and washed his face and hands first.  Then he took off his shirt and washed his arms and neck and chest.  She could see each of his well defined muscles across his chest and marveled at his enormous biceps.  No boy or man in her village ever looked like this.

       He removed his pants and she turned her head away.  But not so far away that she couldn’t see him with her sideways glance.  She knew it was wrong to look at his naked body but some deep desire drew her eyes to him.  He was now only clothed in a leather thong of some sort that covered his intimate area.  Somehow he seemed more naked to Adrianna in only a thong.  His legs had ridges and bumps where each muscle exposed its individuality.  She felt a naughtiness creep over her body, looking at him through the tops of her eyes, head down.  She had never thought of someone’s rump area as a big giant muscle until she saw his. 

       She let out an audible gulp when he removed the leather cup.  His hands moved the cloth over his long shaft.  It was quite different than the penises of the boys she had been with.  It was large and fully grown and, if it was possible, muscular too.  He washed it with care including the area under it and in the crack behind him.  As the dirt came off she noticed that most of his fair skin had a rugged look that comes from living outside but there was an area below his waist to the top of his thighs that shone a pale white.  His blonde hair was long and full and cascaded to his shoulders.  She could feel herself shaking a bit from fear as his eyes looked her up and down hungrily.

       He rinsed the cloth thoroughly when he was done and he removed the pot from above the fire.  He put his hands into the water testing its heat.  He then came over to Adrianna with the pot and the cloth.  She cowered against the floor.

       “Yan.”  He said pointing to himself.  “Ditt namen?” He said pointing at her.  His voice was deep, calm, quiet and Adrianna found his tone soothing. She didn’t reply.  He pointed again and repeated his question.

       “Adrianna,” she finally responded looking up at him with her little girl puppy eyes hoping he might be kind to her.

       “Ah, Anna. Yag skag ringa dag Anna.”  She didn’t understand his speech but got the idea.  He motioned for her to stand.  She did.  He reached out and grabbed one hand and with a warming cloth he washed her hand rubbing it so gently massaging each finger as went.  Then it was up her arm as far as her elbow length sleeve would let him.  He continued with her other hand and then to her neck and individually washed each element of her face.  She was actually enjoying the warm water and gentle ministrations of this man.  When he finished with her neck he turned her moved behind her and began to wash her back.

       He constantly redipped the cloth in the hot water ensuring it was warm to her skin.  Somehow the shoulders of her dress had come down her arms as he washed.  She never felt him open her back buttons but knew he must have.  As he removed the sleeves from her arms the dress fell forward to her waist.  Her chemise was tied on the back, the string wrapped above her firm breasts holding it in place.  Once loosened it too fell forward.  She covered her naked breasts with her hands.  He washed her back and the tops of her arms.  He patted her bottom taking liberties to feel its round bifocal shape through her garments.  His hand excited her and she felt her knees go weak and warmth spread through her lower torso. 

       He returned to her neck and pressed his naked body against her naked back.   His arms moved around and began washing the front of her chest.  She resisted his moving the cloth over her breasts holding them tightly with her own hands.  Instead of fighting her he moved lower and washed her waist area.  He knelt behind her and removed her worn leather shoes. He lifted and washed each foot.  He dropped the cloth into the hot pot and with both hands slid her dress and chemise to the floor.  Her hands moved from hiding her breasts to trying to hold her garments at her waist, but she realized she would only rip the thin material if she resisted his effort to slide them down her legs. 

       She now stood naked facing the warm fire while he knelt behind her.  He again picked up the cloth and washed first one leg and then the other.  It sent shivers up her spine as he came close to her middle where her hands stood guard.  He dipped the cloth again, stood and put it around her breasts.  She couldn’t stop him and she just accepted his fondling passively.  He knew how to massage her breasts to make them feel good.  He moved closer pressing his naked chest against her back.  His strong arms surrounded her.  She could feel his stiff rod against the top of her bottom.  He was making her feel like a real woman for the first time in her life.  Delicate, feminine, exciting.  She shouldn’t feel this way, she thought.  He continued to rub her breasts even after dropping the cloth and his hot breath cascaded down the side of her face sending shivers throughout her body.

       He dipped the warm cloth again, bending down.  He grabbed a fistful of her long raven hair and bent her forward, wiping her ass with the moist cloth.  She went from feeling like a woman to an animal in the hands of its master.  He pushed her legs apart and with a freshly dipped cloth pushed between her protecting hands and into her misty haired mound.  He ran the cloth around her hair and then through the middle track, washing and prodding, back and forth.  Finally he pushed the cloth into the crack of her ass and washed deeply between her cheeks.

       Bent over as she was with him holding her hair, she reached her hands down to the ground to settle herself.  She heard the cloth splash back down into the water.  He ran his raw hand into the space between her legs.  His fingers began to penetrate the valley between her flesh.  No man had ever touched her there and she was reacting to his touch.  Her body began to tremble as his fingers played with regions she barely knew.  Still holding her hair in one hand, he moved his other hand around the outside of her hip and reached back into the space it had just left but now from a different angle.

       Suddenly she could feel his fleshy probe at the entrance to her tunnel.  She tried to pull away but only succeeded in dropping to her knees.   He mirrored her motion and his thing never left that cozy spot between her legs.  His arm pulled her hip tightly as he began to push his hips forward and drive his penetrating rod into her.  He went slowly and gently.  She could feel his large rod expanding her insides but there was not the kind of pain she had been told about.  He slid easily and kept going deeper and deeper until he finally hit the end of her insides.

       He rocked her slowly at first and then with more passion and speed.  One hand pulled her hair so that her head was tilted back.  She felt more pain in her neck than from her hair being pulled.  She could feel him inside of her.  He was big and he went deep, occasionally bumping her at the end.  She liked the feeling and the feeling of his hips smacking against her ass.  She knew she shouldn’t.  He let go of her hair and ran both hands under her body squeezing each breast and nipple. Then one arm reached over and hugged both breasts while his other hand reached between her legs.

       She was helpless to do anything.  She was a small pet to this muscular man.  She was helpless to stop these feelings that were running through her body.  The shivers and tingling and rushing of feelings that were overcoming her body.  She was both woman and animal.  Grunting and heaving to his rhythms.  Her head hung low.  She was sweating.  His arms wrapped tightly around her.  His fingers messing in her slit.  All his pounding.  Lifting her hips and knees off the ground with his thrusts.  She couldn’t deny what she was feeling.

       She no longer felt naked but rather clothed in this man’s muscles.  Clothed in this man’s rhythm.  She felt her whole body responding to his.  Her insides were pumping moisture, her muscles contracting around his shaft.  She screamed aloud as her spirit gave into his thrusts.  He continued for some time before giving up his spirit along with hers, arching his back and releasing deep within her. 

       They both collapsed next to the warm fire, he slightly on top of her.  She wondered how many days he would remain. 

  Chapter 2, A Group Grope 

   (c) Rushmore Judd

   

  • 9:26 am
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