Chapter 3: The Barbarians

The northern hills rose wild and windswept, heather and granite giving way to rugged camps where barbarian clans gathered under banners of wolf and raven. Aoife and her companions crested the final ridge at dusk, the two emerald shards glowing warmer in the pouch at her hip. The Eostre eggs’ curse had deepened overnight—every gust of wind across bare skin felt like a lover’s tongue, every accidental brush of thigh against thigh sent jolts straight to swollen clits and aching cocks.

Aoife’s full breasts felt heavy and sensitive inside her travel-stained gown, her pussy constantly slick and fluttering. Fiona’s dark eyes kept drifting to the others with open hunger. Maeve’s voice had taken on a constant husky undertone. Brigid walked with clenched fists, her powerful body taut. Liam’s small penis stayed half-hard in his breeches, a constant, harmless reminder of his place in their circle.They were expected. At the largest bonfire stood the barbarian champion, a towering mountain of muscle named Ronan the Iron-Cocked.

Seven feet tall, broad as an ox, skin scarred and tattooed with Celtic knots and roaring beasts, wild auburn hair braided with bones. He wore only a fur loincloth that did nothing to hide the legendary weapon it barely contained. When he let the cloth fall at their approach, the group gasped. His cock was monstrous—sixteen thick inches of veined, battle-hardened meat, girth like a woman’s forearm, the shaft ridged and heavy, the head broad and already leaking a steady stream of pre-cum that glistened in the firelight. His balls were massive, hanging like ripe melons, churning visibly with seed said to fuel entire warbands.

The Eostre curse slammed into them like a storm. Aoife dropped to her knees first, the others following in a wave of **** need. “By all the gods of the old blood,” she breathed, voice thick with worship, “that cock… it’s a weapon of pure pleasure.”

Her hands couldn’t circle the girth; both fists stacked barely covered half the length. She pressed reverent kisses along the thick underside, tongue tracing every bulging vein while the others crowded in.Fiona and Maeve flanked her, lips meeting in messy lesbian kisses around the fat head, tongues sliding wetly over each other and the leaking slit. Brigid knelt lower, sucking one heavy ball into her mouth, then the other, her strong hands massaging the sack while Liam watched from the side, his tiny cock twitching as he stroked it gently, content to witness the devotion.The barbarian laughed, a deep rumble that vibrated through his cock.

“The shards demand tribute, little ones. Worship me properly and the third emerald is yours. But the rite must be worthy of the clans.”They gave him everything.Aoife was lifted first, her gown torn open to free her heavy breasts. Ronan impaled her on his massive cock standing up, gravity helping the thick head breach her stretched pussy. Inch after brutal inch sank in until her belly bulged obscenely with the outline.

Aoife screamed in ecstasy, legs wrapped around his waist as he bounced her like a ragdoll. “It’s too big—fuck, it’s splitting me in half and I love it!”While Ronan fucked her with powerful, rolling thrusts, Fiona climbed onto Aoife’s shoulders facing him, grinding her dripping cunt against Aoife’s mouth. Aoife licked frantically, tongue buried deep while her own pussy was ruined. Maeve and Brigid pressed in on either side, sucking Ronan’s heavy balls and kissing each other passionately, fingers plunging into one another’s soaked holes.

Brigid’s warrior strength let her finger Maeve hard and fast, drawing wet, squelching sounds and breathless moans.They rotated in a frenzy fueled by the egg curse. Brigid took the barbarian cock next, bent over a fallen log, her muscular ass rippling with every savage thrust. Aoife lay beneath her in a sixty-nine, licking Brigid’s clit and the place where the monstrous shaft stretched her wide. Fiona and Maeve scissored wildly nearby, clits rubbing slickly, breasts mashed together as they moaned into each other’s mouths and watched the pounding.

Liam stayed close, offering soft kisses to exposed skin and gentle strokes to any clit or little cock that needed encouragement. His small releases were quiet and sweet, adding to the warm acceptance of their group.

The rite grew wilder. All four women ended up on their backs or knees in a circle around Ronan, taking turns riding or being fucked while the others worshipped with mouths and hands. Aoife and Fiona shared a deep lesbian kiss while Ronan alternated thrusts between their pussies, his massive cock glistening with their combined juices. Maeve rode his face, grinding her cunt against his bearded mouth while Brigid sucked his balls. Cum and squirt soaked the ground.Orgasm after orgasm crashed through them. Aoife squirted violently around the thrusting cock, soaking Ronan’s heavy balls. Fiona came screaming on Aoife’s tongue. Brigid roared her climax, walls clamping like a vice. The barbarian’s tattoos glowed red with battle-lust magic.Finally, Ronan pulled out and had them kneel in a line. He stroked his monstrous shaft and unleashed a flood—thick, rope after rope of hot barbarian seed painting their faces, open mouths, heaving breasts, and tongues. The women shared it eagerly, messy cum-swapping kisses, licking strands from each other’s skin and the still-pulsing cock.

At the height of the shared ecstasy, the third emerald shard rose from the bonfire’s coals, glowing fiercely. Ronan pressed it into Aoife’s cum-slick hand. “Well worshipped, travelers. The next piece waits in the Frost Hollow with the winter witch and her coven. But the eggs’ fire grows dangerous, and shadows of Samhain still hunt those who carry the shards.”

The group collapsed together in the firelight—Aoife nestled against Brigid’s strong chest, Fiona’s head on her thigh, Maeve curled against her side, Liam resting peacefully nearby with a soft, satisfied smile. Cum coated their bodies, the three emerald shards pulsing together in the pouch. The barbarian hills felt alive with new energy, the veil a fraction stronger.Three shards claimed. Two remained. The road to the Frost Hollow would be colder, but the heat between them burned hotter than ever.Aoife kissed Fiona softly, tasting cum and shared lust. “We’re stronger together,” she whispered. The others murmured agreement, hands lazily stroking skin and small cocks in tender aftercare.The egg curse simmered on, promising even greater depravity at the next venue.