"The Shieldmaiden's Journey" (closed)

[AngelEyes1994]

"The Shieldmaiden's Journey"

Please note:
I am looking for a writing partner for this story.
Please see the notes at the bottom of this post.​

Astrid stood amongst the exhausted and bloodied band of warriors, shieldmaidens, and non-combatant survivors of the hours long, failed battle to maintain possession of their town. In the small fjord valley below them, between the ridge upon which Astrid's surviving people stood and the sea on which their enemy had arrived, the town of Stranda was being slowly engulfed by a conflagration that would eventually burn the vast majority of its 100 or so structures to the ground.

The fire wasn't entirely resultant of the attack from the sea, though. At the realization that the battle was lost, Astrid had sent the remaining villagers to safety up the hillside, and behind them her warriors and shieldmaidens set their homes and work buildings afire. Astrid knew that abandoning and surrendering the town was a given, but that didn't mean she had to leave that town and its spoils intact for their invaders.



48 men, women, and children survived the attack on Stranda. They would spend the next 22 days hiking the mountainous terrain of Southern Norway, desperately searching for a safe haven. Four times they found people willing to feed and house them for a night or two while they tended to their wounded and sick; four other times they came to bloody blows with people less willing to help or simply eager to take what meager resources they already had.

23 days later, with their number down to 36, Astrid's scouts sighted a Longboat tied to the shore of a narrow fjord. She led her 8 warriors and 4 shieldmaidens to the water's edge, where they found a band of drunk slavers partaking of the sexual offerings of their captives, regardless of the unfortunates' gender. In an ambush of silence and stealth, the Vikings of Stranda brutally annihilated the slavers and captured themselves the greatest of treasures, the deads' Longboat.

Astrid ordered the slaves cut loose, telling them, "You may leave this place, free once again, to return to your village or town if you believe you can find it again without first being captured and enslaved once more."

She scanned the group of 8 females, 3 males, and 6 children and made an offer. "Or, you can remain with us, as free people. Travel with us, to our new home, to a place where hard working people can make a better life for themselves, a place with rich soil for farming, vast pastures for large herds, and forests thick with trees for sturdy homes and even more Longboats. A place where you will no longer have to fear being enslaved by heathens such as these."

Astrid reached down to pull a long dagger out of the back of one of the slain slavers just as one of his former captives asked with a tone of doubt, "Where is this land of peace and prosperity, for I have never known such a place in my life?"

Astrid wiped the blood from the blade, smiled, and answered, "England!"

 

[HornyDog2017]

Gunnar was trying not to listen to the horrors taking place around him. Mothers, maidens, and girls in their early teens were being raped all across the slave camp. He'd even seen the other two male captives ripped out of their clothes and bound to logs or trees to be savagely brutalized by their captors.

Gunnar escaped such torturous behavior for one reason and one reason only: he was the son of a local and powerful Earl, and his captors feared they would get little if any gold for his return if they returned him as a victim of rape. For this reason, he'd been shackled to a tree and let be while the slavers drank and fucked and ate to their hearts content.

Then, there was movement in the nearby undergrowth, and even as he was still realizing what was about to happen, a dozen or more attackers appeared from all directions, slashing and stabbing swords, swinging axes, hammers, and clubs, and sending a spray of blood in all directions.

One of the slavers made the mistake of backing from the action to within Gunnar's length of chain. He leapt to his feet, lifted his shackled wrists over the man's head and down to his neck, and pulled. The force Gunnar used was excessive. The sharp cracking sound in the slaver's neck was followed immediately by the man going still in Gunnar's arms.

Gunnar used the man's ax to crack open the chain's lock. By the time he was loose, the fight was pretty much over. Gunnar turned to find the eyes of some of his saviors upon him.

"Thank you," he said, tossing the ax aside to ensure they understood that he knew his place here. Gunnar was an Earl's son in his father's lands, but here he was little more than a freed hostage. Or, was he? He looked up to the nearest man of apparent authority. With a hopeful tone, Gunnar asked, "You did kill these men to free us, yes?"

It would turn out that the man to whom he was speaking was a subordinate to a stunning Shieldmaiden. Like the men and women serving her, she was covered in the blood of the slain. Looking her over, Gunnar knew instantly that he'd found the woman of his dreams.

She explained that the hostages were free to leave or remain. The majority of the 16 others knew who and what Gunnar was. They hadn't all come from his village or been bound to his father. And yet, many of them glanced his way for some sort of guidance as to how to respond to the woman's invitation.

As an Earl's son, Gunnar had the possibility of power and wealth. But he was his father's third son. He was only going to succeed his father if both of his siblings died before their father did. The likelihood of that was low. Gunnar's father was old for his age. He suffered a number of ailments, as well as chronic pain from a hard life of labor and, later, battle. Gunnar could count his father's remaining years on one hand.

His brothers, however, we both strong and virile and had sons of their own who, by law, were old enough to succeed their respective fathers should they become Earl. Neither of Gunnar's siblings took great risks on the battlefield, meaning they weren't going to die bloody and screaming. On the other hand, they both liked to fuck other men's wives, so, maybe?

No, his best possibility for rising to power and wealth was to marry into it. Looking at this woman and her command of these warriors and shieldmaidens, Gunnar was formulating a bad assumption that this woman had both. Well, she did have the former, power. But that power was over a small group of refugees exiled from their land. They had no land to call their own and had already lost 12 of their people in a search for such a place.

That was when one of the recently freed hostages asked where the woman was inviting them to go. She replied with confidence, "England!"

Gunnar's lips spread in a smile that the Shieldmaiden couldn't have helped but notice. He'd heard of this England, of course. It was supposed to be to the southwest, across the Great Sea. A decade ago, Gunnar had first heard the stories of Northmen navigating the Great Sea. A great warrior from Norway named Ragnar had sailed south to the shores of Denmark, then turned out into the open ocean. A few weeks later, he returned to his home village with a Longboat full of gold, silver, jewels, and slaves.

Many great Northman sailors had supposedly plundered England since, the stories told. Gunnar had never met a person who could prove he'd made the voyage. Nor had he seen an Earl or anyone else for that matter with items of wealth that had most definitely come from this distant land of great wealth.

The idea that this female knew how to get to England was simply fantastical. Using his still shackled hands, Gunnar slung the loosed chain out onto the ground before him. He held his bound wrists out for her to see, saying, "Free me from my bindings, Shieldmaiden, and I will go to England with you."

 

[AngelEyes1994]

Astrid had taken note of the man named Gunnar, of course, but it wasn't until many of the others she and her people had just freed looked to him for obvious direction on how to respond that she really gave him a good, long look. Even in the deep darkness of the night, the roaring fire illuminated him enough to let the Shieldmaiden draw some conclusions: he wasn't the biggest of Northmen but he obvious carried himself as a warrior; his clothing -- while a bit ragged from days or possibly weeks of mistreatment and lack of hygienic care -- still spoke of a rank and wealth within his community; and the confidence in his face spoke of a man who typically got his way in most situations.

"Free me from my bindings, Shieldmaiden," he told Astrid, "and I will go to England with you."

She studied him a longer moment, then began nearing him slowly, her eyes set on his and her lips in only the slightest of smiles. When she was within reach of him, Astrid stopped, stared a moment more, then very softly asked, "If I let you travel with me ... am I going to regret it?"

If he answered that he wouldn't be a problem in such a way that she believed him, Astrid would let him out of the shackles. They were an ingenious design that required two hands to unfasten, something a single person couldn't do by themselves while in them. Her people had used such devices -- originally designed by the Danes to the south -- to restrain people they themselves had enslaved, more often than not after raids on small villages or towns in competing Earldoms.

If she didn't believe him, Astrid would leave him shackled and then leave him here, with anyone else who chose not to go with her. But one way or another, she and her people were going to load up all of the resources here in the camp onto the Longboat and -- at first light -- sail out of here for England.

 

[HornyDog2017]

"If I let you travel with me ... am I going to regret it?"

Gunnar knew better than to hesitate and didn't. He bowed his head forward, lowering his eyes (and incidentally getting a more up close glimpse at her leather enclosed, shapely bosom). "You will not regret it, Shieldmaiden."

He lifted his head again and told her a half-truth, leaving out just who and what he was. "Many of these people come from the same village from which I myself come. I trust them and they trust me. If I promise to serve you, they will serve you as well."

He looked to where most of the others had begun assembling to comfort one another. Stressing, he said to Astrid but in their direction, "If I pledge my loyalty to you, they will do the same."

Gunnar looked back to the woman who'd led their rescue, adding, "And I do. I pledge my loyalty to you. I promise to serve you. And if ever I find that I cannot do both, I will await your judgement as to my fate."

What he said and the way he said it must have sounded sincere. A moment later, the shackles around his wrists were falling to the ground at his feet. He nodded again to show his respect, then asked, "May I speak with the others?"

He nodded yet again, then went to his people, who now were, of course, Astrid's. He spoke softly to them, not to hide his words from the Shieldmaiden's people but simply to seem less authoritative. At one point, one of the men whispered, "Are you going to tell her who you--"

But Gunnar quickly shook his head, mouthing quietly, "No. One day."

After a bit, he pulled the two men who'd been sexually assaulted aside and talked to them. He had feared what they themselves had: they would never be fully respected by the others after what their captors had done to them. Their only course was to return home, where no one knew of the disgrace that had befallen them.

Gunnar returned to Astrid to again tell half truths. "Thane and Leif wish to return to their villages. They have families there. The others with to remain with you, if you will have them."

He already knew that the Shieldmaiden would take them all. Once she'd made that clear, Gunnar made his gesture of respect again and returned to his people. Those who could set about helping their saviors in loading all of the slavers' things onto the boat.

For the next two hours, people went up and down the gangplank linking the Longboat to the bank. Astrid's own people, who had been hiding in the forest, came to the shore and joined in as well.

The dead men were stripped of their arms and armor. In some cases, their clothing and boots were taken as well. When there was nothing to be done with them, Gunnar asked Astrid, "What shall we do with the dead?"

Gunnar knew that this was where his new Lady would show how she felt about the slavers: would she burn them to release their souls to Valhalla? Or would she leave them laying here for the wolves to tear apart and devour? Or would she have another course of action for the men she had called heathens?

 

[AngelEyes1994]

The man -- who shortly would tell her his name -- seemed to have more influence on the others than that of a simple fellow townsfolk, but Astrid didn't for a moment suspect that he was Nobility. She listened to Gunnar's oath of loyalty, to which Astrid only nodded her approval.

"May I speak with the others?"

"Of course," she said, turning and gesturing the sword in her hand toward them in a polite gesture of permission. As Gunnar began to step away, though, his new Mistress informed him, "My name is Astrid. You may call me Lady Astrid or simply M'Lady."

Astrid knew that this wasn't the way of the North, and the reaction from Gunnar told her he knew that, too. But it had been her and her now deceased husband's goal of establishing an Earldom in England, and that was the title by which the English noblewomen were known.

For the next hours, as the night exhausted itself and the reds, oranges, and then yellows of morning slowly filled the eastern skies above the rugged mountains, Astrid watched from a polite distance as the two peoples -- hers and Gunnar's -- worked together to fill the Longboat. Through her conversations with some of the women newly accepted into her Clan, Astrid learned that the slavers had attacked their nearby villages by land from this fjord; it was the reason the boat's cargo was so limited and the goods on the shore were so numerous.

By the time they'd loaded everything of value -- including a dozen goats, several cages of rabbits, a large cage of chickens, and 51 people, of course -- the Longboat was riding low in the water and was so jammed that the oarsmen barely had room to gain a full stroke. As soon as it was possible to catch wind, the sail was deployed and the oars stored -- again, with barely enough room to do so.

Navigating wasn't much of an issue those first days as the boat simply headed south within sight of the Norwegian coastline. They stayed at sea for two days, until the water was exhausted, then moved closer to shore to look for a safe place to land with no sight of occupation. They rowed the boat hard up onto a sandy beach between two tall cliffs. They would be safe from land attack here, and men were able to reach the rocky outcrops to north and south both to watch for any approaches from the sea.

Within an hour, one of the excess male goats was roasting over a roaring fire while roots, mushrooms, a couple of chickens, and other food items were cooking over a smaller fire nearby.

It had been late when they'd come ashore and it didn't look like rain, so only the one tent that had been in the way of other things needed for the unload was taken to shore and set up. Astrid's people had little in the way of personal possessions after their 23 day trek through the mountains, particularly bedding; she ordered that the slaver's tent and the majority of their bedding be provided to the sick, elderly, the children, and to as many women -- Shieldmaidens not included, of course -- who could fit inside the structure's protection.

"The rest of us can lay around the fire," Astrid said, her lips spreading as she finished, "and hope to Odin that it doesn't rain tonight ... or snow!"

Once everyone was put to work doing this or that, Astrid gestured to Gunnar to follow her down to the surf. When they were alone, she asked, "How did you come to be a hostage of the slavers. There is more to this story than you simply being taken. I see it in the way the others treat you. And I see it in the way you handle yourself."

She reached out to his tunic and tugged at a ripped piece of fabric, saying, "And I know the look of having one's Clan brooch ripped from his very expensive clothing. Don't tell me that's simply a tear from fighting."

 

[HornyDog2017]

Gunnar followed Lady Astrid down to the edge of the sea, already knowing the questions she was about to ask him. He'd taken a leading role amongst his own people in loading, sailing, and unloading the boat. At times, he politely commanded some of Astrid's people as well, though, never her warriors or shieldmaidens.

"My father is Earl Arvid," he confessed after considering how much he wanted to tell and how to tell it. "I am nobility, as are you, M'Lady. Or, at least, I was. Now, I am just a man who is well respected by others."

Gunnar turned his back to the sea to look back at the men, women, and children milling about the camp. The multiple fires illuminated them as they ate, worked, or laid themselves down for a much needed night of sleep in a bed that didn't roll with the sea's swells.

"I am my father's third son," Gunnar continued. "It is unlikely that I would have ever become Earl. If the slavers had known this, they would have slit my throat, which is the reason that secret had been kept amongst my people."

Gunnar looked to Astrid and said with a serious tone, "My people, M'Lady, are now your people. They look to me for direction and guidance at times, yes. But I look to you for that same direction and guidance. It is unusual for a man to do this, yes? But I assure you, M'Lady: you can trust me when I say that I will honor your rule."

He hesitated a moment to see if Astrid had a comment, then asked, "If you wouldn't mind, M'Lady. May I know what happened to your husband? It is unusual for a woman to lead people as you lead these. It is unheard of for a woman to rise to this position of nobility without having been married to a noble who has passed."

 

[AngelEyes1994]

"My father is Earl Arvid," Gunnar told Astrid. "I am nobility, as are you, M'Lady. Or, at least, I was. Now, I am just a man who is well respected by others."

She understood what Gunnar was saying. The rise and fall of what the Northmen called Nobility was a very fluid subject. Astrid's own husband, Gudmund, had been a Commoner -- a Karl -- before his own rise to power. Ten years ago, he had organized the men -- and even some of the women -- of his and several adjacent villages into a fierce fighting force, then attacked the town of a vicious, murderous Earl whose warriors had been raiding and pillaging the region for years. Gudmund had personally killed this treacherous Earl, and after clearing the town of the dead ruler's loyal subjects, Gudmund's followers and those townsfolk who remained demanded that he be the new Earl of the town.

Astrid had been the eldest, still-virginal daughter of the slain Earl, and while Gudmund had killed her father, Astrid had known that her future lay in the bed of the new Earl. Gudmund had shared his cock with many of the town's females in the days and weeks that followed, but it was with Astrid alone that the man had shared his heart. He took her for his wife, swearing off all other women after he'd come to realize that Astrid was more than enough woman for any man.

But like her father, Gudmund would be killed by the leader of an invading force. And like her own mother -- the widow of the previous Earl -- Astrid had found herself fleeing the town with a small band of survivors, searching for a safe haven.

Gunnar explained to Astrid about why he'd hidden his Nobility from the slavers, then reminded her of his oath of loyalty to her. She looked into his eyes and -- despite not knowing him well if at all -- believed that he was being honest and sincere. Of course, he was a Northman and possibly a savage like the very slavers who'd captured him; he was a displaced Noble who -- she presumed correctly -- still yearned to be the leader of his people.

Could she trust him? Probably not. But Astrid would for now. She could always later cut off his cock, roast it over a fire, and eat it while he watched and bled to death. Thinking this, Astrid couldn't help but smile a bit.

"If you wouldn't mind, M'Lady," Gunnar asked. "May I know what happened to your husband?"

She looked back to the sea, with its white tops illuminated by the full moon. After a moment she told him the story of Gudmund's rise and fall, adding, "The Clan attacking us had been taking one fjord town after another for six, seven years. Warriors in the forests above the town had been attacking our hunters, foragers, miners. We were suffering by the time we were attacked, by sea and land both. My husband led an ambush on the warriors attacking from the land, but..."

Astrid couldn't speak the words describing her husband's death, an act she'd witnessed with her own eyes. She was more than happy, though, to look to Gunnar and say, "I slit the throat of the man who killed my husband."

Looking back to the sea again, she continued, "But the town was lost. We had killed those attacking from the hills and opened an escape route. I ordered the survivors sent into the hills..."

Astrid looked back to the camp, to the 35 others who had survived both the attack and the flight from it. "...and the town set ablaze. I wasn't leaving anything behind for them to use. They wanted our town. They got it ... in ashes."

She knew that even with the town gone, there had been wealth left behind: cattle, sheep, goats, swine, fowl, and hundreds of acres of crops that were only weeks away from being harvested. After looking back to the sea again, Astrid said, "England is the place where we will begin again. Better climate, better soil..."

She laughed and looked to Gunnar. "Fewer Northmen."

 

[HornyDog2017]

Just as his story had been familiar to Astrid, her story had been the same to Gunnar. He listened to her tale and wondered how many times he'd heard simliar tales of victory and defeat.

"Fewer Northmen," Astrid said regarding her desire to trek to England.

"That must be a good thing," he joked back, though to a degree, he was being serious to a degree, too. The harshness of the life here in the North made for harsh men -- and harsh women at times -- and the lack of resources necessary to thrive brought those harsh men and women against each other more often than Gunnar would have preferred. He asked, "But with fewer of our kind, will we be safe there? We may fight against one another often, but when we find ourselves threatened by others, by other Peoples, the Northmen always come together. We won't have that in England, will we? The support, the defense against foreigners that our Northern Clans offer us?"

He looked back to the camp, reminding her with a close number, "We are only 50. I do not know this England and its people, but I have to assume they are more than 50 strong."

 

[AngelEyes1994]

"That must be a good thing," he joked about there being few Northmen in England. "But with fewer of our kind, will we be safe there? We are only 50..."

Astrid let Gunnar finish, then explained, "There are people of our kind there already. My husband's people. They have a village on a river in a place called Northumberland. I have been there. I have seen it. Thick forests, fertile river bottoms, pastures of tall grass. It's beautiful."

She looked back to her now larger Clan and then to Gunnar. "And yes, there are far more English than Northmen in this Northumberland, but one day that will not be true."

One of Astrid's shieldmaidens called for her attention, and the leader of the Clan excused herself. "Sleep well tonight, Gunnar, for tomorrow we are back in the boat, and after one more stop in the South, we head for England ... across the vast sea."

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>​

(OOC: For the image below, you have to imagine that it is night time.)

As the members of both clans -- now one Clan -- began settling down for the evening and the only sounds remaining were those of the cracking fire and the uneasy animals, Claire made her way quietly through the darkness to where Gunnar had laid a blanket out on the soft mossy ground for a bit of comfort.

She pulled her dress upwards as she knelt on the ground beside him, whispering in his native tongue with an accent -- and English accent -- with which Gunnar would not be familiar, "M'lady Astrid sends me to you, so that you may find comfort and warmth tonight."

What she meant by that, of course, was that Astrid had sent her to both keep Gunnar warm with her body heat and pleasured by her warm, wet holes. Whether he chose to partake of one or the either or both was totally up to Gunnar; Claire was a slave, caught in the English Isles and given to Gudmund for his service in helping the English-located Northmen claim the land they now called home, and as a slave she did what her Lady commanded of her.

 

[HornyDog2017]

Gunnar remained at the shore for a while longer. He tried to imagine looking out upon the sea at sunrise, watching the bright fiery orb rising out of the water from the east, from the wrong direction.

England, he mused. Can it be all Astrid believes it to be?

Her returned to the camp and helped the others get settled in for the night. He volunteered to replace one of the watch standers on the bluffs but was told he and his former hostages should get some rest. Gunnar found that curious, seeing how Astrid's people had been on the move for far longer than most of his had been in captivity.

Nevertheless, he eventually laid a blanket out on the ground under the protection of a big tree, should it rain. He was about to drift off when someone approached. Out off instinct, he grasped his dagger and pretended to be asleep.

The young beauty stopped near him, waited to ensure he knew she was there, pulled her dress upwards to reveal her shins, knees, and much of her thighs as she knelt on the ground beside him, explaining her reason for being there.

"You are not of the North," he said as he set his dagger aside and sat up. She explained, and Gunnar asked the obvious, "You are Astrid's slave?"

Again, Claire answered. Gunnar took a long moment to look her over. She was a beautiful young woman, more than a girl but not by much. "How many years are you, Claire?"

"I was born 18 winters ago," she answered. "I have been in service to Lady Astrid for 3 winters."

"And how many men have you been in service to?" Gunnar asked, reaching a hand out to caress the young beauty's face before lowering his hand to the expose flesh of her bosom's upper roundness. "How many men has your Lady sent you to keep warm and happy?"

 

[AngelEyes1994]

"You are not of the North," Gunnar said. "You are Astrid's slave?"

"I am from Northumbria," Claire said, clarifying, "what Astrid's people call Northumberland. I was taken from my village as a girl. My parents were killed in a raid."

She suddenly perked up a bit as if remembering something important and made another clarification, "Astrid's people did not kill my parents. I was sold to her people, and they sold me to Gudmund's brother's wife, who then traded me to Gudmund for some stock animals he'd brought to Northumbria from Norway, and then Gudmund gave me to his wife, to Astrid. I have been with her ever since that day."

"How many years are you, Claire?"

She didn't immediately understand that Gunnar was asking her age, but when she did she answered, "I was born 18 winters ago. I have been in service to Lady Astrid for 3 winters."

"And how many men have you been in service to?"

Again, Claire didn't immediately understand the question, but when she did, she exploded in a fiery blush and lowered her eyes in shame.

"How many men has your Lady sent you to keep warm and happy?"

After a moment, with her head still down and a tremble in her voice, Claire said, "Please, m'lord, forgive me for my innocence. And please forgive m'lady for sending you a girl with no experience or qualities in serving a man. We are not many anymore after the flight from our home, and m'lady has few to offer to you for your warmth and comfort. Please, m'lord, m'lady hopes I might still be able to fulfill your needs. If not, please do not blame her."

Claire assumed that Gunnar would understand what she was confessing: that she had never been with a man.

 

[HornyDog2017]

Gunnar couldn't believe what he was hearing from Claire: she was a beautiful young female slave who'd been in service for three years and still hadn't been fucked raw by her master or one of her master or mistress's warriors. It was simply incredible, unthinkable, that some man hadn't forced his hard cock into her after this amount of time in servitude.

"Please, m'lord, m'lady hopes I might still be able to fulfill your needs. If not, please do not blame her."

Gunnar couldn't help it; he laughed out, so loudly that other rolled or even sat up to see what the matter was. He just waved them back to their sleep and looked to Claire. "You've never been with a man? Never! How can that be?"

 

[AngelEyes1994]

Gunnar's laugh surprised Claire, causing her to flinch noticeably before the man. "You've never been with a man?"

Meekly, she responded, "No, M'Lord."

"Never! How can that be?"

The slave girl didn't know how to answer that question without speaking about something she feared was not hers to expose: she may not have yet sexually served a man, but she had been and -- she assumed -- would still continue to be Astrid's lover.

"M'Lady has not sent me to a man's bed, M'Lord..." she said, stating the simple fact. Peeking up at Gunnar for just an instance before again looking downward, she added another fact known to both of them, "...until now."

Reaching to her chest, Claire pulled slowly at the bowed string that was holding her dress together over her bosom...

 

[HornyDog2017]

It had been quite some time since Gunnar had had a virgin, and like now, that young woman hadn't made the choice herself to have Gunnar's cock inside her. As he watched, Claire tentatively untied the front of her dress, slowly revealing more and more of her chest from the sternum outward.

The cleavage of her young firm breasts revealed themselves in the low but sufficient combined light of the full moon and the nearby fire. She slowed once the string was fully untied, and Gunnar sensed that perhaps she was hoping he would stop her.

He didn't. Instead, he sat up taller, bending one leg to better support himself, then reached out to gently take each side of her more opened gown and pull it slowly outward.

Claire's dress slowly slid from her shoulders and upper arms, and as it did so, her perfectly rounded tits and their chill-swollen nipples came into Gunnar's view.

"You're trembling," he whispered quietly, looking up to Claire's eyes, then back to her beautiful bosom. He reached a hand upward and ever so lightly caressed its fingertips across her sternum, over one of the firm orbs, and around its pert, central nub. Still whispering, Gunnar said, "You are a beautiful woman, Claire. Any man would be pleased to have you please him."

Then, he reached to her elbows where her dress's upper portion had gathered and pulled the gown upwards again, hiding this portion of her womanly features. He waggled a finger at the loosened thong, telling her, "Tie up, before you catch your death in this cold."

Then, laying back on the ground again, Gunnar said, "I will not have you tonight. You may tell your Lady that I was too tired to perform. But, you may sleep with me to warm that beautiful body."

Gunnar held the edge up his blanket's upper half up and out for Claire to join him, then said, "Hurry, before I get cold and change my mind and decide that fucking you might be a better way to keep warm."

 

[AngelEyes1994]

As Gunnar would soon point out, Claire was trembling down deep to her core, and it wasn't entirely because of the cold that had swept in with the arrival of night. No man had ever before touched her the way she was expecting the son of the Earl to during the next minutes or hours of this night. Yes, Astrid had told the slave of Gunnar's status as a noble, and the girl was certain that that was the reason behind her mistress's decision to finally have the slave surrender her purity.

As her dress opened and was pulled away, Claire could literally feel her nipples grow to their largest, the swell of them almost painful in the sudden exposure to the night air. A chill ran up her spine, and gooseflesh exploded across the skin of her arms and torso. She wanted to badly to grasp Gunnar's hands and tell him no, that he couldn't have her, that she was reserved for her mistress. But it had been Lady Astrid who'd sent Claire to Gunnar.

"You are a beautiful woman, Claire," the man said to her, adding that any man would be pleased to have her. Then suddenly, he was covering her back up and saying, "Tie up, before you catch your death in this cold."

Claire looked up into Gunnar's eyes, shocked. "I ... I don't ... I don't under--"

Gunnar explained, "I will not have you tonight. You may tell your Lady that I was too tired to perform. But, you may sleep with me to warm that beautiful body."

Gunnar offered a place beside him, and when Claire hesitated -- still confused about why the man didn't want her -- he warned, "Hurry, before I get cold and change my mind and decide that fucking you might be a better way to keep warm."

Claire didn't both to rebind the two sections of cloth that normally hid her bosom. Instead, she laid beside Gunnar, something she hadn't done with anyone but Astrid since being ripped as a child from the bed she'd shared with her sisters so, so long again.

 

[HornyDog2017]

Gunnar waited for Claire to lay beside him before letting the blanket down upon them both. She was careful to maintain a bit of a gap between them, but he reached a hand around her middle and pulled her tightly back into him.

"You're supposed to keep me warm, remember?" he said, laughing. Still up on one elbow, he shifted the rolled up clothing he was using as a pillow to find more comfort under their necks, then snuggled in tight against the slave girl's backside. His cock had already hardened earlier when Claire began untying the bosom of her dress, and it was still just as hard now. He pressed it into the crevice of her ass cheeks, moaned, and mused, "I hope I haven't made a mistake."

Then, he settled in for what he hoped was going to be a nice night of sleep full of erotic dreams. The question in Gunnar's mind when he fell asleep was whether or not claiming the British slave girl's virginity -- if he decided to do so -- would prevent him from eventually laying between the thighs of her Lady, too.