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Subject: {ASSM} Viking! {Libertine} (MF BDSM nc anal caution cast)
Date: Fri, 15 Nov 2002 18:10:05 -0500
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"Viking!" 
  by Libertine


Aeffe was intently hoeing the little field, preparing for
planting. Too late, she heard the hooves of a galloping horse,
turned, and saw the Dane almost upon her. She raised the hoe
before her, but the huge, mail-clad warrior snatched it from her
grasp, wheeled his mount, and, with the strength of one mighty
arm, lifted her off her feet. For an instant, she hung by her
braided, blonde hair, and then she found herself thrown face down
over the horse's shoulders, in front of the rider, who rode
bareback. As the horse galloped away, taking her away from home
and family, she could not even cry out, for she could hardly
breathe. Her ribs and belly were compressed with every stride.

The horse was reined in, and she managed a long scream, hoping
someone would hear and rescue her. After all, there was only one
Viking raider, but the villagers, if any heard, dared not show
themselves. She felt strong hands around her waist, lifting her
in the air, and then she was thrown forward, against the horse's
neck. She felt her skirt lifted, and she was set down, astride
the beast, the horse's sweaty hair pressed against her bottom and
her inner thighs, its mane tickling her belly, while her captor's
muscular legs pressed the backs of her thighs. He pulled her arms
behind her and bound her hands with a soft leather strap. She
felt his legs move against her, as he signaled the horse to walk,
and, as the rippling muscles of the horse's shoulders, and her
captor's limbs, too, stimulated her uncovered skin, she felt a
strong arm around her waist, and then higher, across her breasts.

Aeffe had little knowledge of the world beyond her village. She
didn't know that many of the tribes and nations of Britain had
paid Danegeld for protection from random raids, but Devon had
never come under the Danelaw. While the coastline was not easy
to land on, the people prayed every week for protection from the
dangerous Danes, who could appear suddenly from the sea, to rape
and pillage and disappear as quickly as they came. Aeffe did not
know where they went. She had never heard of Byzantium or
Antioch or Tripoli, where blonde Saxons and blue-eyed Celts
fetched good prices in the slave markets.

The horse picked it's way down a stony path, down toward a beach.
Though she lived but a short walk from the sea, Aeffe had only
seen it once. Young maidens seldom stray far from the village
fields. Aeffe was fascinated by what she saw. A long,
double-ended ship was drawn up on the stony beach. A dragon's
head topped the stem post. A great tent of hides, ship shaped,
was erected on the beach. The huge man behind her lifted her
from his mount and put her on her feet. The stones of the beach
were uncomfortable under her feet, but a lifetime of going
barefoot made her disregard that. She was thankful that her
skirt fell once again around her legs.

The strong man gripped her bound wrists and lifted, until Aeffe
was forced to bend at the waist. He forced her to walk to the
tent. Inside, a few men lay relaxing, being fed by female
slaves. Most of the pirates must have been out scouring the
countryside. Thirty or more young women, all naked, those who
were not serving, lay on beds of furs. Most were bound, hand and
foot, but lay in repose, as if simply waiting for something to
happen. One, Aeffe noted, was bound tightly, curled up in a
ball. Her ankles were bound to her upper thighs, so that her
weight was on her knees and toes, on bare stones, not a fur. A
rope around her neck pulled her head down, between her knees. It
passed backward, between her legs and buttocks, to her tightly
bound arms, behind her. The woman looked very uncomfortable, and
seemed to be sobbing.

Aeffe felt her hands being released from their bondage. "Take off
your clothes, slave." the warrior commanded. While he spoke with
a strange accent, Aeffe could understand him. He was big and
blond, with a scar across his nose and cheek, and he smelled of
sweat and leather.

"No." she said. "I am a free woman, not a slave."

Before she knew what was happening, she found herself face down,
her breasts mashed against the stony floor, her skirt bunched
around her waist, and her captor's knee upon her back, pressing
her down. She felt his rough hand upon the tender, pale skin of
her rump, and then a moment of respite.

"Slave." the warrior said, "I am now your master. You will do as
I say, or suffer punishment."

Aeffe shrieked in surprise and pain, as the flat of her master's
dagger blade fell upon her rump with a loud smack. "Be quiet,
slave, and take your punishment bravely." she heard, and she
gritted her teeth, pressed her lips together, to stifle the
involuntary groans which escaped her, each time the heavy
instrument fell upon her tender flesh. At last, the punishment
ended. "Now, take off your clothes." she heard again.

Aeffe struggled to her hands and knees, then to her feet. She
turned to look at her tormentor. She noted other pirates, and
their slaves, looking at her. One of them had evidently enjoyed
what he saw. He pulled up his kilt, as he sat on the ground,
revealing a huge male member. Aeffe had never seen such a thing,
so unlike her little brother's. The seated Viking reached out
for the nearest slave girl and pulled her down on him, impaling
her with his pole.

The feel of a knife point at her throat distracted Aeffe from the
spectacle. She looked at her captor, saw a sunburned, scarred,
bearded blond giant, a face she would never forget. She began to
unlace her bodice.

It was with some embarrassment that Aeffe let her dress fall from
her shoulders and stood, naked, before the Viking. She tried to
cover her crotch and breasts, but he swiftly turned her and bound
her hands behind her back again. She looked over her shoulder at
him, and at the others, but no one seemed to be watching. They
evidently were used to naked slave girls, and to seeing one
fucked roughly on a warrior's lap. It was only the punishment
which had interested them. Her master's voice was close: "Tell,
me slave, are you a maid, a virgin?"

"Yes."

"You will address me as Master." Aeffe held her tongue. "Is your
maidenhead intact? No man has touched you, between your legs?"

Aeffe declined to answer, until she felt a hard slap on her
buttock, which was especially sensitive, after her beating of
only a moment ago.

"No man has touched me." Slap! "Master."

"Have you ever put your fingers in there? Or anything else?"

"No, Master."

"Stand there, slave. Do not move." Aeffe stood, her knees
together, her hands bound behind her. She tried to hold them
away from her flaming backside, which still ached from the
beating. "Stand with your feet apart." she was told, and she
moved her feet a cubit apart, standing, proudly, without reply.
She felt a leather strap being passed around her waist, and it
was buckled in back, beneath her bound hands. She looked down,
between her breasts, and saw to her horror an iron grillwork, a
kind of basket, which her master forced between her thighs and
fastened with straps around each thigh, tight straps, right up
against the crease of her buttocks. "You will not remove this,
unless I tell you to." The tight straps, and the iron, wider
than the natural space between her thighs, pressed uncomfortably
on her tender skin, but Aeffe bore the discomfort. Moving her
legs a bit farther apart relieved the pressure on her tender
inner thighs, but increased the tightness of the leg straps. 
"You will fetch a much better price if you remain untouched."

He pushed her roughly toward some furs beside the wall of the
tent. Aeffe had to walk awkwardly, with her feet apart, because
of the iron in her crotch. Another slave lay there, bound hand
and foot, but she hunched herself a little to one side, to make
room for Aeffe. Aeffe's master began to bind her ankles
together, side by side, but Aeffe cried out, "Master, if you do
that, the iron will scar my flesh and make me less valuable." The
bearded giant scowled at her, grunted something, and retied her
with her ankles crossed, her knees flexed and spread. Aeffe
wondered if that was an improvement, for she could sit, but it
would be very difficult to lie down to sleep, whether on her
back, her stomach, or her side.

Each Viking had a personal slave, one thoroughly broken and
trustworthy, to take care of his personal needs. When Aeffe's
master, for instance, did not care to bother going outside to
make water, his slave would hold a bowl for him to piss in. And
she would lick the end of his pisser clean. The master's slave
served him at the evening meal, then ate, herself, and brought
his leavings for his other slaves to eat. Each slave was
permitted the use of her hands, to eat, and was allowed to crawl,
as best she could, outside the tent to relieve herself. Then
each was again bound and left on the floor.

Aeffe could not get comfortable, could not sleep. The other
slave, no virgin, slept soundly. Finally, in desperation, Aeffe
used her bound hands to release the buckle of the belt around her
waist. She tried to position herself so that the iron cage would
fall away from her crotch, but it would not, for the leg straps
held it tight. The ends of the belt, however, did fall in front
of her, and there was no way she could bring them together to
rebuckle them. Of course, in the morning, her disobedience was
discovered. Her master said nothing. He refastened the belt, as
tightly as he could, so Aeffe felt she could hardly breathe. He
untied her hands and feet, and he, with his personal slave, led
Aeffe some distance from the tent, to a place where the shore was
very rocky. The master forced Aeffe to lie, face-down on the
stones, and his slave handed him two spears. He bound Aeffe's
wrists, far apart, to the shaft of one spear. He bound her feet,
as far apart as they would go, to the shaft of the other spear. 
By now, there were spectators, twenty or so Vikings, and at least
as many young slaves. To prevent Aeffe from lifting her body
from the punishing stones, her master used two more spears to
spread the first two apart, stretching Aeffe on a rectangular
frame of spears, as if she had been a curing bear hide.

This time, her master used a leather ox whip, and he applied it
all up and down her body, from her neck to her feet. He even
lashed the soles of her feet, until she doubted she would be able
to walk again. In several places, the lash left livid welts --
the tender skin over her ribs, under her arms, and between her
legs, and on both buttocks, where the whipping was most severe.
At last, she lost the strength to scream, and they left her
there, conscious only of her pain.

She was dimly aware that the Vikings were packing their tent,
loading their ship, preparing to leave. The tide came in; the
cold, salty water splashed over Aeffe's feet. Soon the breaking
waves rushed up the vee of her parted legs and splashed through
the iron grill which protected her chastity. Her numerous
lacerations stung fiercely as the salt water reached them, and,
as the tide came higher still, Aeffe found herself straining to
lift her head, holding her breath with each breaking wave, lest
she drown in the sea water. She almost wished she would, just to
spite her cruel master.

At last, the Vikings refloated their ship, and Aeffe was released
and carried aboard the ship. At sea, as there was obviously no
chance to escape, the slaves were seldom bound, though they were
often bound, even tied to trees, when the Vikings made camp on
shore. The Vikings had no rowing slaves, as such. When going
into battle, the Vikings rowed their own ship, their shields
displayed along the sides, then leapt from their benches to
fight. But, on a leisurely trading run, with a ship full of
women, it was easier to let them row, whenever the wind was
adverse, which was most of the time. With her bruised and
scabbed backside, it was difficult for Aeffe to sit and row. She
had to pull her oar half standing, and the muscles of her back
and legs and belly became, first, sore, and then stronger. Her
master joked with his companions that she would have to be
fattened up, before he sold her While rowing, Aeffe was at
least warm. When resting, and there was never enough room to lie
down, Aeffe was almost always cold and wet, naked in the British
springtime weather. When, however, the ship worked its way along
the coast of Iberia, and past the Pillars of Hercules, Aeffe was
allowed to wear a cloak, so as to preserve her precious fair skin
from the sun. The fairer the skin, the better the price, in the
Levantine markets.

There was a time when Aeffe was almost jealous, to see her master
fucking the other slaves. There is no privacy on a ship. His
personal slave seemed to enjoy it, crying out how good he was to
her. That seemed to put him off, and he would fuck another slave
three or four times, before going back to his regular bed-
warmer. There came a time, however, when her master had drunk too
much mead and was in a surly mood. He bent Aeffe across a rowing
bench and tried to enter her after hole, which was not covered
with iron. She squeezed her muscles, resisting his entry, until
he took a tent peg and drove it into her. She screamed, thinking
she must surely be bleeding, and she begged her master to stop. 
He pulled the tent peg out and replaced it with his meat. Aeffe
mewled in pain and disgrace, as her master plumbed the depths of
her backside. It hurt, and she was sure her tender tissues were
torn and bleeding. When, at last, the giant withdrew, he forced
Aeffe to use her mouth to remove the blood, semen, and shit which
befouled the Viking's meat.

Aeffe never again resented the attention her master gave the
other slaves. They professed to love him. They praised his
manliness, said how blissful it was to have him sheath his manly
weapon in their bodies, filling them, giving them indescribable
pleasure. She hated him. One slave even proclaimed she was
jealous, when their master, apparently out of boredom, spent a
whole afternoon torturing Aeffe. They had gone ashore, for water
and plunder, and the master had found some stinging nettles. The
nettles were covered with countless tiny hairs, venomous hairs
which would penetrate soft skin, causing a stinging, burning,
itch. Master used his long sword to harvest a bagful.

The master summoned Aeffe and loosened her iron cage enough to
stuff it with nettles. His calloused hands seemed not to mind
them, but Aeffe's virginal female parts flared into soul-searing,
flaming, pain. The Vikings all laughed, to see Aeffe rolling on
the ground, clutching herself, screaming in frustration, clawing 
at her iron-shod crotch, unable to even to scratch herself.
Later, when she was assigned to row, her master made her sit on
nettles, which again caused her agonies such that she wished
herself dead. She discerned, however, that the cruel men liked
to see her suffer, and she used every bit of her will to keep
quiet, to pretend the nettles simply cushioned a hard rowing
bench.

Near Cyprus, Aeffe was sold to a Syrian slave dealer, who waited
until she had her monthly period, to prove to a buyer that, at
very least, she was not pregnant. He sold her to an Egyptian,
and, when she was visibly with child, the man freed her, as
required by Islamic law, and took her as his third wife. She bore
him a son, his first.

When Aeffe had recovered from her lying in, and was ritually
purified, Mustafa decided to celebrate. After all, he was rich,
with more grain than he could mill. He could afford to buy his
wives presents.

A good Muslim must treat his wives equally well. When they got to
the market, Aysha demanded and got a magnificent, gold
embroidered gown. Saifa selected a heavy gold chain. Aeffe could
not make up her mind, until... "Mustafa." she said, "would you
buy me a slave of my own?"

"Of course, my love, if that's what you want. Perhaps I could
find you a nice girl from Gaza, or Arabia."

"No, honored husband." Aeffe replied, "I want that one." She
pointed to a filthy hulk of a man, chained to others no cleaner. 
He was blond, bearded, and had a scar across his nose and cheek.

"My lovely." cooed Mustafa, "they are captured pirates, pagans,
fit only to row the galleys."

"I want that one." She pointed to her former master, who, even
had he bothered to look, would not have recognized her behind her
veil, with her blonde hair covered. "Mustafa, you have said we
have more grain than we can mill, and it is true that our horse
is overworked, turning the mill all day. It pains me to use the
animal so cruelly. It is harem, offensive to Allah, to mistreat
animals. But Allah would not count it against me, if I whipped
a kaffir. That barbarian could turn the mill and spare our horse,
and he could hoe the garden and carry water. That would allow me
more time to nurse your son. Please, Mustafa?"

"Very well, my pious wife, Insha'Allah, I will buy him for you. Of
course, he will have to be..."

"Oh, thank you, dear husband." Aeffe gushed. "Think of it, a
eunuch of my own."


                          -- The End --


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