Chapter 13
Lorna
The blunt head of his cock pressed against that forbidden entrance, and I let out a broken sob.
Even with the oil, even with his finger having prepared me, the size of him seemed impossible.
The burning from the strap across my bottom made every nerve ending hypersensitive, and I could feel myself trembling violently against the bonds.
“Breathe, little one,” Aksel commanded, one hand settling on my lower back while the other guided himself against me. “Your body knows how to submit. Let it happen.”
I tried to follow his instruction, forcing myself to take deep breaths even as I felt him begin to push inside.
The pressure was overwhelming, a burning stretch that made tears stream down my face.
My bottom-hole resisted at first, clenching tight against the invasion, but Aksel was relentless.
Millimeter by millimeter, he pressed forward.
“No, please,” I gasped, even though I knew I didn’t mean it. “It’s too much, you’re too big—”
“You can take it,” he said, his voice carrying that absolute certainty that made my body believe him even when my mind rebelled. “Your r?vhul was made to serve your Herra this way.”
The collar burned against my throat like a brand.
I closed my eyes. I saw the tree, looked up into its canopy, and began to rise.
Suddenly the silver branches around me in the vision began to pulse with light.
Each tiny movement of his cock pressing deeper sent me climbing higher through Yggdrasil’s infinite expanse.
The pain and the strange, overwhelming fullness seemed to crack something open inside my consciousness. The abject shame of pushing that way, of opening like that at a man’s command, for his taboo pleasure, seemed like a wind under me, lifting me into the boughs.
With a final push, my Herra seated his massive tool fully inside me, his hips pressed against my welted bottom.
I screamed at the sensation—not entirely from pain, though there was plenty of that.
It was the complete and utter possession of it that threatened to overwhelm me, the way he’d claimed this last part of me that I’d kept private even from my husband.
“There,” Aksel said, his hands gripping my hips as he held perfectly still, letting me adjust to his size as he enforced the impalement of my virgin ass. “Your Herra’s cock is buried in your tight little bottom. You’re completely mine now, Lorna. Every hole has been claimed.”
The words should have filled me with shame, but instead I felt something else—a strange sense of completion, as if this was what I’d been missing all along. Through my tears, through the burning stretch of accommodation, I could see the threads more clearly than ever before.
“The Arctic,” I gasped, the vision crystallizing with stunning clarity. “Oh, God, I can see it. Horakovsky’s base. It’s not just one installation.”
“Tell me,” Aksel commanded, beginning to move inside me with slow, shallow thrusts that made me sob with each motion.
“Three sites,” I panted, my consciousness soaring through the branches even as my body remained bound and impaled. “Connected by underground tunnels. The permafrost… they’re using the permafrost as natural insulation for something. Batteries, massive battery farms, but not just for energy storage.”
The vision sharpened with each deep thrust of my Herra’s cock in my violated bottom. Through my tears, I saw the true purpose of the Arctic installations with terrifying clarity.
“They’re going to weaponize the energy grid,” I gasped, my fingers clawing at the ancient wood as Aksel’s rhythm grew more demanding.
“The batteries aren’t just for storage… they’re for controlled surges.
Horakovsky can destabilize entire national power systems, create artificial shortages, manipulate prices by—oh, God—”
His angle shifted, pressing against something inside me that sent sparks through my vision. The threads connecting everything glowed brighter, showing me market projections, political ramifications, the systematic destruction of Northern Europe’s energy independence.
“He’ll hold Jagland hostage,” I sobbed, the fullness in my bottom making it hard to think, hard to breathe, yet somehow also making the visions clearer. “Make us dependent on Russian gas again while he controls our renewable infrastructure. Takken knows. He’s getting paid to let it happen.”
“Good girl,” Aksel praised, his thrusts becoming deeper, more purposeful. “But there’s more. I can feel you holding back from the highest branches. You need something else to ascend fully.”
His hand left my hip, reaching beneath me to trace along the smooth leather of the saddle. “Find it, Lorna. The bride’s consolation. Every saddle has one—a small gift for the thrall who serves well.”
I didn’t understand at first, too overwhelmed by the burning stretch of his cock claiming my most private place.
But then, as I moved over the leather, searching for anything to ground myself against the intense sensations, I found it—a small, polished knob of wood protruding from the saddle’s surface, positioned perfectly to press against…
“Oh!” I cried out as I shifted forward, the little knob making contact with my swollen clit.
The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves through my already overwhelmed nervous system.
After a week of being denied my master’s touch, that simple pressure against my most sensitive spot had me instantly teetering on the edge of climax.
“Please,” I begged, my voice breaking as Aksel continued his relentless rhythm in my bottom. “Please, Herra, may I come? I need—I can’t—”
“Yes,” he commanded, driving particularly deep. “Come for your Herra while his cock fills your tight little r?vhul. Let it take you higher.”
The orgasm hit me like a lightning strike, every muscle in my body locking as waves of impossible pleasure crashed through me.
I screamed, grinding desperately against the bride’s consolation while Aksel’s thickness stretched and claimed me.
The combination of sensations—pleasure and pain, fullness and friction, submission and transcendence—shattered something fundamental inside me.
And suddenly I was soaring.
Higher than ever before, through silver branches that seemed to stretch into infinity.
The Arctic installations spread before me like a map of pure malice, and then something else crystallized in my mind with horrible clarity—a path forward that made my stomach turn even as my body convulsed with pleasure.
I saw myself approaching Horakovsky at another gathering, letting him see my interest, my submission.
The vision showed me offering myself to him, playing the role of a bored political wife seeking excitement.
He would be suspicious at first, but his ego—that massive, brutal ego—would win out.
He’d want to show off, to impress me with his power.
He’d take me to the Arctic base himself, unable to resist displaying his grand plan to someone he thought he’d conquered.
“No,” I sobbed, even as another orgasm ripped through me, my body grinding desperately against the bride’s consolation. “No, I can’t—”
But the vision wouldn’t release me. I watched myself in Horakovsky’s bed, his massive frame looming over me while Takken watched from a chair in the corner, forced to witness his wife’s degradation.
I saw Katya and Mila there too, all of us reduced to playthings for the Russian’s amusement.
The scene played out in excruciating detail—every touch, every violation, every moment of shame that would be required to get close enough to gather the intelligence we needed.
Orgasm after orgasm crashed through me as the images burned themselves into my consciousness.
I was coming apart, splitting between the woman bound to this ancient saddle with her Herra’s cock buried in her most private place, and the woman in the vision who would have to betray everything she’d found here to save her country.
“Please,” I wept, though I didn’t know what I was begging for. “I can’t do it, I can’t—”
The conflict felt like it would tear me in two.
How could I give myself to that monster when I belonged to Aksel?
How could I let Horakovsky touch me, use me, when every fiber of my being recognized only one master?
The thought of his hands on my body, of pretending to enjoy his brutal attention while my Herra watched from afar through whatever surveillance the Sons of Odin could manage—it was too much.
I fled. With a violent wrench of will, I tore myself away from the silver branches, plummeting back into my body just as I felt Aksel swell inside me.
His grip on my hips tightened as he drove deep one final time, and I felt the hot pulse of his release filling my claimed bottom.
The sensation should have sent me spiraling into another climax, but I was sobbing too hard, the conflict in my chest making it hard to breathe.
“Lorna,” Aksel’s voice came from very far away, though his hands were already working at the bonds holding me to the saddle. “Little one, what did you see?”
The moment my wrists were free, I felt his strong arms wrap around me, lifting me from the saddle with a gentleness that made fresh tears well up at the corners of my eyes.
My body felt boneless, overwhelmed by what I’d seen and what I’d have to do.
Aksel cradled me against his chest as he carried me to his bed—a massive thing covered in soft furs in the corner of his subterranean hús.
He laid me down carefully, then stretched out behind me, pulling me close.
“Shh,” he murmured against my hair, his hand stroking down my spine. “Tell me what you saw that upset you so.”
The words spilled out between sobs—the vision of seducing Horakovsky, of letting him use me while Takken watched, of betraying everything Aksel had so quickly trained me to see as my new destiny.
My Herra listened without interrupting, his touch never faltering even as I described the degradation I’d have to endure.
“I won’t force you to do anything you cannot bear,” he said when I finally fell silent.
I turned my head over my shoulder to look at him, my brow furrowing.
His steel-gray eyes met mine, and I saw something there I hadn’t expected—genuine concern, even tenderness.
“There are other ways to gather intelligence. You don’t have to—”
“But I do,” I whispered, the realization settling over me like a weight.
“You know I do. No one else can get that close to him. No one else has the access, the opportunity.” I turned all the way around so I could press my face against his chest, breathing in his scent.
“The vision was clear. This is the only way to stop what’s coming. ”
Aksel’s arms tightened around me, and I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. “My brave little v?lva,” he murmured. “You’ve seen the threads of fate more clearly than seers with decades of training.”
I pulled back to look at him, and the words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I love you.”
The admission hung in the air between us.
I hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t even fully realized it was true until the words left my lips.
But lying there in his arms, my body still trembling from everything he’d done to me, I knew it with absolute certainty.
Somewhere between the collar and the strap, between the visions and the claiming, I’d fallen completely, irrevocably in love with my Herra.
His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. “Lorna,” he said, and my name on his lips sounded like a prayer. “My sweet, perfect bed thrall. I love you too.”
My heart stopped, then resumed at double speed. “You do?”
“From the moment I watched you at that first reception,” he admitted, his usually controlled voice rough with emotion.
“You were so beautiful, so lost, so desperately in need of someone to show you what you truly are. I told myself it was just the mission, just the need to develop an asset. But when I finally had you here, when I saw how perfectly you responded to the training, I knew something else was at work—something even more ancient and mysterious than my brotherhood. Yes, I love you.”