Chapter Eight
Sif eyed Hakon’s broad back as he stalked through the camp.
The place was in a state of general chaos, but the warrior did not hesitate or falter.
Rather, he went as straight as an arrow to his own tent.
He held the flap open for her, and Sif nervously ducked her head and went inside.
Hakon laced the tent up behind her and turned to her.
“I know you must be angry,” Sif began, and then went silent as she saw the expression on Hakon’s face.
It was not rage—in truth, she was prepared for that.
He had every right to be furious. She had pledged him obedience and then had flatly disobeyed him.
She knew that she had her reasons, and she felt that they were good ones.
But none of them erased the fact that she had disobeyed him.
Anger, then, would not have surprised her. What she was not prepared for, however, was grim sorrow.
Hakon spread his hands. “I do not know what to do,” he confessed. Sif’s heart sank. If this is Hakon declaring an ending of the two of us…it cannot be. My heart would die. She watched the man she loved carefully and listened.
“Sif, I know that you have been given gifts granted only to a very few,” said Hakon.
“It is clear that you are fated to have a great destiny. I do not wish to stand in the way of that destiny. It would be madness for me to do so! The sagas are filled with the tales of those who fought their fate and found their bitter ends.”
Sif kept her expression neutral, although she could not help the single tear that trailed down one cheek.
“But, Sif, my love…” Hakon took a deep breath. “I also know that you are mine. I feel it in my bones. You are my woman, and that is just as much your fate as anything else.”
Hope rising, Sif said, “I feel it, too,” in a small voice.
Hakon nodded. “I’m glad. So this is the puzzle that we must unlock. How do we ensure you have the freedom to fulfil your destiny while also honoring the fact that you have pledged yourself to me? These are two ships that seem to be sailing on different seas! How can we bring them together?”
Suddenly, Sif saw it all clearly, like the sun’s light through a ship’s crystal.
She knew what she had to do. “There is only one way,” she said, moving to Hakon and kneeling in front of him.
“I must trust you and give all of myself to you.” Sif took her warrior’s hand and kissed it.
“I place my destiny in your hands, my love. I submit to you utterly and completely. I know that I have a mighty fate before me. I trust you to steer it.” She leaned her cheek into his palm.
Hakon gazed down at her in silence for what felt like a very long time.
Sif looked up at him, wondering what thoughts were going through his head.
Finally, the warrior nodded once more, and said gravely, “Then I must steer your fate with great care.” He smiled, and Sif’s heart rose.
“And I must listen carefully to what you have to say,” he added.
Then his face grew stern. “But there must be an accounting, Sif. You disobeyed me.”
Sif nodded. It was true. No matter the reasons, the simple fact was inescapable.
“There must be consequences for disobedience, Sif. That is how the balance is righted once more.”
Still holding his hand, she sat back on her heels and looked up at him. “You are right, my Lord. There must always be consequences.” Sif felt a tingling in her core.
Hakon looked down upon her. “Strip naked, Sif Astridsdottir, and kneel before me once more.”
She quickly did as she was told. Sif told herself that her nipples were pebbled because of the cold air, but she knew it was not true.
Hakon unbuckled his belt, pulling it from around his waist. Sif’s eyes grew wide.
She watched as he gripped the buckle then wrapped the leather around his fist until only a portion, the same length as from wrist to elbow, dangled free.
Sif’s gaze travelled upwards from the belt to Hakon’s steady stare.
“Serious disobedience means serious consequences, my witch,” he said.
Both nervousness and excitement swirled in her belly. “Yes, my Lord,” she replied.
“Stand a yard from the tent pole,” Hakon ordered. Sif obeyed, facing the central pole holding up the canvas.
“Feet shoulder width apart. Lean forwards and grip the tent pole with both hands. Arch your back.”
Sif obeyed, leaning forwards and arching her back, leaving her naked bottom high in the air, her pussy on display before her master. She could feel the moisture already beginning to gather. She turned to look at Hakon but received a sharp smack on her ass.
“Face the pole,” he commanded.
“Yes, my Lord.”
Sif swallowed and faced the tent pole, concentrating on her grip and on keeping her ass arched high. She had a sudden thought. “My Lord?”
“Yes?”
“The sound of your belt, my Lord…people will hear,” said Sif, almost in a whisper.
“As they should, my witch,” replied Hakon evenly. “Let people know that you have chosen to submit to me and my authority.”
“Yes, my Lord,” said Sif, a little sadly. It was hard to let go of the idea that she would submit to Hakon privately and carry on publicly as if nothing had changed, but that was clearly not to be.
“Be ready, Sif. Your submission begins by taking five strokes of the belt across your bottom.”
Begins?
She did not respond quickly enough, and gasped as Hakon’s firm hand smacked her ass once more. “Oh! Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord.”
“Count them as they fall. If you fail to count, or remove your hands from the pole, we begin again,” said Hakon. “Get ready.”
Sif felt the leather of Hakon’s belt brush lightly over her naked cheeks then there was a moment of silence then a whooshing sound, and then a terrible crack as the belt snapped against her bottom.
“Oh!” cried Sif involuntarily and fought to keep her hands on the tent pole as her legs shook. “One, my Lord! Thank you, my Lord!”
“Good girl,” she heard Hakon say as the blood rushed to her pelvic area. Then there was another whooshing sound, and another crack.
“Ahh!” Sif was sure the whole camp could hear her cry out. She held onto the pole, and her feet did a little dance up and down. “Two, my Lord, thank you!”
The third and fourth strokes came just as hard, and Sif gasped and tried to control her breathing. Her bottom was on fire. She could feel the heat of the red lines across her naked skin. There were tears in her eyes. But she did not let go of the pole, and she counted each stroke out loud.
The last stroke came whooshing down and snapped one final time against her bare flesh.
Sif sobbed as she said, “Five, my Lord! Thank you, my Lord!” She kept sobbing as she continued to lean against the pole, her shoulders going up and down as she cried.
It was as if a dam had been burst. Sif had agreed to strip naked and take a stern belting from the man she loved.
She had no regrets. If anything, she felt cleansed.
She felt his hands, firm but gentle, as they ran over her back, caressing her shoulders, moving lightly over the welts he had made across her ass. Sif almost purred under his touch. His hands just felt so right.
Hakon guided her hands back to the tent pole, and Sif uttered a little gasp. As he bent her over once more, his stiff cock pressed against her exposed pussy. “Yes please,” she murmured as the head of his penis gently parted her wet folds. “Oh gods, yes please,” she sighed.
Then, Hakon’s hands were at her hips, holding her firmly, and he thrust his cock balls-deep into her pussy.
Sif’s eyes briefly rolled up and she almost lost her grip, but his strong hands steadied her as she was driven up onto her toes.
She cried out as the first rolling wave of pleasure swept through her.
Hakon began a steady but ferocious pumping, his hands gripping her hips like iron, as he pounded her pussy into another orgasm, and then another.
Sif’s legs were weak as Hakon withdrew. She was confused. Surely he had not climaxed yet? Sif felt in a bit of a blur as her warrior led her to her bed, laying her on her belly and placing a firm pillow beneath her hips. “Hakon?” she asked dreamily.
“It is time for your final submission, my witch,” he said tenderly, parting her bottom cheeks and gently rimming her rear passage.
“It is time for me to claim your ass.” Sif twitched at the touch of his fingers then moaned as he drew moisture from her pussy and coated her bottom hole with its slickness.
Sif had never experienced this form of claiming and truth to tell was a bit nervous about it, but she had pledged her obedience to this man. She trusted him.
Sif softly exhaled as she felt the pressure of his cock open her hole, and while the sensation was unusual, it was also exciting in its novelty and sense of the forbidden.
Hakon gently worked his cock in then back a little then in farther once again, steadily widening her back passage and making her ready to receive him.
It was a luxuriously slow process, and Sif found herself tightening and loosening her grip on the sheets beneath her.