Stand before him.

Mustering what dignity you have left inside, you struggle upright and stand before him. But as you rise up, your loose breeches fall below your waist and drop. You now stand before the hulking Jarl, fully naked, small chastity in bright display. In shame you quickly kneel to cover yourself, but the Jarl keeps you upright with one hand below your arm. He eyes your contraption curiously and even flicks it with the other hand. He fondles the metalwork as his fingers press up against the base. This makes your cock twitch in response, which at first surprises the Jarl but later makes him huff in what you perceive is amusement.

"Perhaps I'll keep you."

"What?"

"Listen, boy."

His hand reaches up and clasps around your neck. Fear consumes you as you quickly realize that with one push, he could easily snap your neck in half.

"You are no longer Merek, captain of anything. You are now Merek, thrall to Rorikson."

He lifts you up and pushes you onto bed. Before you realize he towers beside you, hands undoing the straps across his chest.

"If you do well while I keep you, I'll make you a proper wife."

Now bare-chested, you can smell the blood and salt off his skin. The giant undoes the rope that binds you and guides your limp hand down his chest, stomach and finally to his waist. Shaking, your hand unfurls the barbarian's belt until a long, half erect cock bobs up to reveal itself. You've never seen one so big before and the sight of it makes your mouth water. Rorikson no longer needs to guide your hand as it seemingly moves on its own to the base of his member. His furled bush is a lighter shade of red than the fiery red, matted on the top of his head. With a single stroke you realize you need two hands to properly grab hold and with a couple strokes, the Jarl's cock is fully erect, ready to pleased proper.

You've heard tales of captives being subjugated and sometimes raped during raids up north. Survivors were often shunned and condemned by the church in consequence. You wonder if the church would forgive you, given the circumstance. You were breaking chastity as the spoil of battle. As your mouth approached the head of Rorikson's throbbing cock, you wonder if you're clear willingness would ever weigh in to your potential absolvement.