The Saxon Girl

Your eyes settle on the Saxon girl. You decide to claim the Saxon girl. You decide to claim her for yourself, but before you can step forward, Bjorn, a grizzled Karl in his fifties, is already pawing at her. His fat fingers grope her breasts, and he probes between her legs, checking to see if the eighteen-year-old is truly a maiden.

"Get your paws off her, Bjorn," you snap, slapping his hand away. The old man turns, his face flushed red with indignation. "This one is mine, old man. I stole her from the nunnery myself, so I get first claim."

"What use do you have for her?" Bjorn protests, his voice gruff. "She could give me strong sons."

"You already have sons and daughters older than her," you retort with a snort. "You don’t need another one. Now get lost."

Bjorn grumbles, his pride wounded, but he backs down, knowing better than to challenge you. You are a shieldmaiden, fierce and unyielding, and your reputation is enough to make even a man like Bjorn think twice. As he shuffles away, muttering under his breath, you turn your attention to the Saxon girl. She looks at you skeptically, her arms crossed over her chest in a futile attempt to shield herself.

"What’s your name, girl?" you ask, lifting her chin to get a better look at her.

"Linette," she replies, meeting your gaze.

You grin, your hands moving to explore her body, taking over where Bjorn left off. "Want to be my bedwarmer, little Linette?"

"Women shouldn’t lie with women!" she protests, her cheeks flushing crimson as her monastic teachings kick in.

You laugh, a sharp, mocking sound. "I can leave you alone if that’s what you want. But then Bjorn or some other old fool will claim you. You’ll have an old man’s cock in your cunt all night, his bastard in your belly before the next harvest moon. They’ll work you hard all day, and you’ll be sharing a room with his daughters until he calls you to his bed." Your fingers trace a circle around her navel, your touch deliberate. "Is that what you want?"

Linette hesitates, her discomfort clear at the prospect of being some red-faced old man's breeding ****. "No," she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Then become mine," you say, your grin widening. "Let me be your savior, girl."

After a moment’s hesitation, Linette nods. "All right," she agrees, her voice small and submissive.

You pull her into a kiss, deep and possessive, drawing cheers and laughter from the Vikings around you. The men always love watching two women together, and you enjoy their approval, grabbing the Saxon girl's behind. Linette flushes red, her inexperience evident, but you don’t mind. She will learn, and you will enjoy teaching her.

Meanwhile, Bjorn has moved on to another Saxon girl, this one with blonde hair. You have no doubt he will claim her as his bed **** tonight, his grubby hands leaving little to the imagination. He's going to be fucking her brains out tonight.

The slender, delicate boy you noticed earlier is claimed by Valdar, a burly Karl with a bear-like build and a reputation for his particular tastes. You chuckle, knowing the boy will spend the night face down, arse up, getting the hardest fucking of his life. Valdar’s appetites are no secret, and the boy won't soon forget his new master.

The dark-skinned Nubian, his powerful frame and defiant stance setting him apart, is claimed by Astrid, another shieldmaiden. She giggles as she inspects her new thrall, her eyes gleaming with mischief. You wonder if the blonde Viking woman will tame the dark-skinned Nubian man or if he will turn the tables and dominate her. Either way, it will be a battle worth watching.

But for now, your attention is on Linette. You take her by the hand, leading her away from the longhouse and toward your home. The night is cold, the stars sharp and bright above you, but you barely notice. You have your prize, and the thought of molding her to your will fills you with anticipation. Odin has blessed your raid, and now it is time to enjoy the spoils.