Chapter 7
Aksel
As I fucked Lorna’s tight little cunt, I did all I could to keep my thoughts in order. It was very far from easy, given how much pleasure I couldn’t help taking in fucking the gorgeous First Lady of Jagland, watching my rock-hard tól plunge in and out of the girl’s sweet fisse.
But despite my years of experience as a Son of Odin, what I sensed through our connection almost made me pause mid-thrust. I had the urge to fetch my handheld from my pants to verify with the data feed from Freya’s Bridle what I could feel under my hands, against my lap, and above all in my rampant, surging cock: patterns of movement I’d only known our most experienced volur to make.
Women who’d spent years learning to access their sight arched their back and squirmed their backsides this way as they were fucked, in search of their journey to the world tree.
Lorna’s consciousness wasn’t just brushing against the tree; she was climbing through its branches with the confidence of someone who’d walked that path a hundred times before.
“Remarkable,” I murmured, studying the way her body trembled beneath me, the movements in search of further pleasure that told me she was deep in vision.
The collar enhanced natural ability, yes, but this level of clarity after such minimal training?
Either Lorna possessed extraordinary latent talent, or the combination of her political knowledge and suppressed nature had created the perfect conditions for awakening.
I decided to test just how far her sight could reach.
“Lorna,” I said, maintaining my rhythm inside her, using the physical sensation to anchor her even as her mind soared. “Can you see your husband right now? Where is Takken at this very moment?”
I felt her consciousness shift, following the command like a hound catching a scent.
Her inner walls clenched around my cock as she searched, and I had to focus to maintain my control.
Through our connection, I sensed her following threads—some volur described them as colorful…
golden, silver, black, red—through the branches of her vision.
“Focus on him,” I commanded, angling my hips to strike that spot deep inside that made her cry out. “Let your body’s response guide your sight. When you find him, when you truly see where he is and what he’s doing, I’ll let you come.”
The promise made her sob with need. I’d kept her on the edge for so long that her entire body vibrated with desperate tension.
Many volur maintained that orgasm at the moment of vision could crystallize understanding in ways that slower, painstaking meditation couldn’t achieve.
The ancient seeresses had known this too, though they attributed it to divine possession rather than the neurochemical cascade that actually occurred.
“Please,” she gasped, her consciousness diving deeper into the web of connections. “I can almost… there’s something…”
I reached around to find her clit, circling it with precise pressure. “Tell me what you see, and I’ll give you what you need.”
Her back arched as much as the bonds would allow.
“He’s… oh, God, he’s not at the ministry.
He’s in… a hotel? The Rikhard. Room… room 1247.
There’s a woman, but not… not one of his usual…
” She gasped, her vision sharpening. “Red hair. Russian accent. She has documents. Classified documents about our naval defense positions.”
The specificity of her vision impressed me beyond measure. Even our most gifted volur usually took months to achieve this level of detail. I increased the pressure on her clit, driving deeper into her tight channel.
“Good girl,” I praised, feeling her entire body respond to the words. “You’ve found him. Now come for me.”
Lorna
I screamed as all the mingled sensations and impressions seemed to join together into a white-hot ball inside my throbbing pussy, where my Herra’s cock came and went in a brutal, galloping rhythm.
The climax tore through me like lightning finding ground, my entire existence narrowing to that point where Aksel’s thick tool stretched and filled me.
Every muscle in my body locked as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me, each one more intense than the last. Through the overwhelming sensations, I felt him swell inside me, felt the heat of his release as he gripped my hips hard enough to bruise.
But even as my body shuddered through the most intense orgasm of my life, my consciousness remained split.
In that other place—Yggdrasil’s tangled realm of silver branches and golden threads—I watched the scene in the hotel room with perfect clarity.
Takken sat on the edge of an expensive bed, his shirt half-unbuttoned, completely oblivious to the fact that the redhead sliding documents into her designer bag had just played him for a fool.
“The underwater plants,” I gasped, the words torn from me between aftershocks. “She knows about the underwater energy plants. Takken thinks he gave her false coordinates, but she’s using the metadata. The file timestamps, the geolocation tags—Horakovsky will triangulate the real positions.”
Aksel’s cock pulsed inside me one final time before he slowly withdrew.
I whimpered at the emptiness, at the feeling of his seed beginning to trickle from my thoroughly used pussy.
The physical sensation grounded me, pulling me back from the vision even as my mind raced with the implications of what I’d seen.
“Exceptional,” Aksel murmured, and I heard genuine surprise in his voice for the first time since I’d met him. His hands moved to the ropes binding my wrists, working the knots with practiced efficiency. “Your sight is far stronger than I had anticipated.”
The moment my arms were free, the blood rushing back into them made me cry out.
But before I could even think about moving, Aksel’s strong hands were on me again.
He lifted me from the bench as if I weighed nothing, throwing me over his shoulder in one smooth motion.
The ropy muscles of his huge arm pressed against my welted bottom, making me whimper with pain and, worse, new arousal—distressingly quick to reawaken.
“Now is the time of soothing,” he said, carrying me toward a door I hadn’t noticed before. “A Son of Odin always tends to his bed thrall after discipline and claiming.”
The word claiming sent a fresh shiver through me. That’s what had just happened, wasn’t it? This man—this stranger who worked for some ancient order I barely understood—had claimed me in the most primitive way possible. And worse, I’d let him. No, I’d done more than let him. I’d begged for it.
The room he carried me to was much smaller and warmer than the chamber with the longboat, furnished with thick furs and a bed that looked both ancient and oddly modern.
He laid me down on my side with surprising gentleness, then stretched out behind me, his body curving around mine.
One arm slipped beneath my head while the other draped over my waist, his hand settling between my thighs with possessive familiarity.
“You did beautifully,” he murmured against my neck, his fingers finding my oversensitive clit with gentle precision. I gasped, trying to squirm away, but his arm beneath my head held me firmly in place. “This is part of your training too. Learning to accept pleasure as readily as pain.”
His touch was feather-light, so different from the brutal claiming I’d just endured, but somehow that made it worse. I couldn’t hide behind the excuse of force now. This was pure, undeniable pleasure given freely by my Herra, and my traitorous body responded immediately.
“Please,” I whimpered, not even sure what I was begging for. “I can’t… it’s too much…”
“You can,” he said simply, his fingers never pausing in their gentle exploration. “You’re stronger than you know, Lorna. That vision you had—most volur take years to achieve that level of clarity. You saw through Takken’s deception, understood the Russian girl’s true purpose. You have a gift.”
The praise made something warm unfurl in my chest, even as his fingers coaxed fresh wetness from between my legs. I could feel his seed still leaking from me, marking the furs beneath us, and the primitive nature of it made me burn with shame and terrible arousal.
“If you were a traditional bed thrall,” Aksel continued, his voice low and hypnotic, “you would now serve in my chambers permanently. You’d wear my collar always, warm my bed each night, bear my children if I wished it.
” His fingers circled my clit with devastating precision.
“You’d never have to think about politics or corruption or saving your troubled country.
Just serving your Herra, finding purpose in submission. ”
The picture he painted was terrifying in its appeal. Some exhausted part of me wanted exactly that—to disappear into this role, to let someone else make all the decisions, to find meaning in simple obedience. But even as the thought tempted me, I knew it was impossible.
“But that’s not your path,” he said, and I couldn’t tell if the emotion in his voice was regret or satisfaction. “You have work to do in the world above. A role to play in stopping what’s coming. So I must, with great reluctance, return you to your regular life.”
His fingers pressed harder, finding exactly the right rhythm, and I felt another orgasm building despite my exhaustion.
“But make no mistake, Lorna. You belong to me now. To the Sons of Odin. When you’re back in your glass tower, playing the perfect political wife, you’ll remember this.
You’ll remember my cock inside you, my hand and my strap across your r?v, my collar around your throat. ”
I let out a broken sob, my body shuddering against his as waves of pleasure began to roll through me. It was different from the explosive climax during my vision—softer, deeper, almost tender.
“And when Takken is away,” Aksel continued, his fingers never ceasing their gentle torment, “you’ll receive your training remotely. Through your phone, through Freya’s Bridle between your legs. I’ll be watching, Lorna. Always watching.”
The thought of him having that kind of control over me, even when I was back in the prime minister’s sumptuous but lifeless apartments, sent me spiraling into another climax.
I cried out, my back arching against his chest as the pleasure surged inside me.
He held me steady through it, murmuring praise in Old Norse that I somehow understood despite never having learned the language.
“Such a responsive little bed thrall,” he said when I finally stilled, gasping for breath. “You’ll practice your exercises daily. Edge yourself when I command it. Accept punishment when you’ve been disobedient. All while playing your part of the country’s first lady.”
His fingers found that spot again, and despite my exhaustion, I felt my body responding.
The idea of sitting through state dinners with this device inside me, knowing he could activate it at any moment, made me clench.
Would he make me suffer through formal receptions while my pussy throbbed with need?
Force me to maintain composure while electronic punishment coursed through my most intimate places?
“Yes,” I sobbed as the third orgasm crashed over me, weaker than the others, but somehow more devastating. “Yes, Herra, whatever you want.”
The shame of my easy capitulation burned through me even as my body shuddered with pleasure. What kind of woman was I, to submit so completely to this stranger’s will? To actually crave the degradation he promised?
When the tremors finally subsided, Aksel pressed a kiss to my shoulder—the first truly gentle gesture I thought he’d made.
“You’ll return here in one week. Tell anyone who asks that you’ve been referred to a specialist for a gynecological issue.
Female troubles—Takken won’t question it, and neither will anyone else. ”
“But my regular doctor—”
“Has already updated her records to reflect the referral. The Sons of Odin are thorough, Lorna. We’ve been preparing for you longer than you know.”
The implications of that statement chilled me, but before I could question it, he was moving.
He rose from the bed with fluid grace and lifted me again, cradling me against his chest this time rather than throwing me over his shoulder.
I should have protested, should have insisted I could walk, but my legs felt like water and there was something almost comforting about being carried.
He brought me back to the main workshop, setting me on my feet near where my sundress lay folded on the bench. My legs trembled but held. I watched as he moved to his workbench, returning with a small fob that he pressed against the back of the collar to unlock it from around my throat.
The moment it came off, the world seemed to dim. Colors became less vivid, sounds less crisp. I hadn’t realized how much the collar had enhanced my perception.
“Herra?” I asked, turning to face him.
Aksel smiled, and the simple beauty of it, appearing within his neat beard, made my heart skip a beat.
“The collar works to train your body, like a scaffold in some ways. Eventually you’ll be able to go to the tree without it.”
“But—” I started, my brow furrowing in puzzlement. “But I didn’t notice… I mean, when…”
My Herra nodded. “You didn’t notice any difference when I put it on you. That’s because two hours ago you still had no idea how to perceive the world the way a v?lva does. The collar helped you learn that, along with my hands and my hard tól.”
My face went hot. Aksel smiled more broadly. He picked up the sundress and handed it to me.
“Yes, my lovely bed thrall,” he said, “you need it even more, now, don’t you? And you will receive everything you need.”
He lowered his chin and looked deeply into my eyes, until my heart raced in fear of what he would say next.
“Before I next train you, you are to shave your fisse and your r?vhul for me. I want you to feel submissive down there.”