Chapter 6
Avery
I’m restrained. Metal that won’t budge is holding my wrists against the table. My arms are above my head, but not perfectly aligned like they were before Dr. Grix examined me. They’re just roughly bent and secured by this strange table.
My legs aren’t in the restraints, but they’re clamped to the table, just like my wrists. The left one is bent at the knee. The right one is straight and the angle is very uncomfortable.
I’d scream for help, but there’s a gag in my mouth. Foul linen that tastes like sweat, tar, musk, and terrible flavors I never want to taste again.
If all that wasn’t terrifying enough, there are three Viking space pirates standing around me, and I feel like Goldilocks in Utopia 64’s version of the story.
In their story, she ends up tied to a bed while three big, hungry beasts have their way with her.
The most popular one is written by Anne Cauliflower, like the Keto version of my favorite author back home.
“Our mate,” the blond one sighs, and it sounds like a breath that’s been pent up for years. “Now that we’re alone, I guess we should introduce ourselves, shouldn’t we, brother?”
“I suppose it’s only polite,” the red-haired one smirks.
“The way I feel right now, she doesn’t even need to know my name,” the biggest one snarls. “Never felt anything like this. I need to fuck her. Then we can get to know each other before I fuck her again.”
I scream into my gag. Partially out of sheer terror and partially because my core flares so hot I feel myself getting wet. I imagine it immediately, the big Viking on top of me, doing things to me I swore would never happen before the meteor slammed into Earth.
Except Earth is long gone. A big boom, and the only world I’d ever known was a memory. That was years ago. I was just thawed out of cryostasis a week ago. Examined. Shown luxury. Promised a future that actually sounded like it would help me move on, even if I was lonely for a while.
I’m not lonely now. I’d give anything to be lonely, because I don’t like what is happening to my body. They can do anything to me they want. I’m absolutely helpless.
“I’m Ivar,” the blond one says. “The oldest of my brothers. A king, but I share my crown with three others from the surviving royal bloodlines.”
“My name is Erik,” the red-haired one says.
“I pieced together the ship that blew up out there.” He gestures to the window.
“I used to be the middle child, with no responsibility except a royal wedding before I got to live out my life in peace. Well, with the occasional pillage or plunder, but only on special occasions. Instead, I’ve fought more battles than some of my ancestors when all of the royal bloodlines were at war. ”
“Sigurd,” the biggest one says, his lips curling into a snarl. “Fuck, my wolf wants to come out. I need her. I need her now.”
The more aggression he shows, the wetter I get, but I fight it.
I’m listening, even while my hips squirm against the table and my panties get damper between my thighs.
I’ve never been this turned on before. Something about them.
It’s unnatural, and it’s not just because they’re Viking space pirates.
“Relax, brother,” Ivar urges. “We’ve introduced ourselves.
Let’s give our mate an opportunity to do the same.
” He leans closer until he’s looking into my eyes.
His are so blue they’re mesmerizing, but there’s an icy hint of danger.
“If you scream, the spanking you’re going to get for making things so difficult will be even longer.
Nod if you’re going to be a good girl for us, otherwise I’ll leave the gag in. ”
Sigurd growls, sounding more like an animal than a man. “And if you’re not going to talk, then there are other things we’re anxious to do besides learn your name. I guarantee you’re going to scream then, gag or no gag.”
A spanking? I didn’t realize he was serious about that.
Now I know just from the look in his eyes that he is.
The way the iciness flashed, just for an instant.
And I’m choking on this gag. I definitely want it out of my mouth.
The longer I talk, the longer I delay… Sigurd.
I’m not sure if he wants to eat me or fuck me at this point.
So, I do the only thing I can do. I nod like a good girl, even as my thoughts scream that I’m not letting them have their way with me without a fight.
“See, you’re already showing that you’re going to be a good mate,” Ivar says in a low hush, wiping a tear I didn’t even know was present on my cheek away before pulling the gag out of my mouth. I cough as it’s yanked free, then I try to get the taste out of my mouth.
“That’s mine.” Erik grabs it from Ivar’s hand and shoves it into the waistband of his cloak.
“That thing tastes like shit,” I complain.
“Shit? No, I wouldn’t shove a shit rag down your throat. Just a regular rag,” he chuckles, looking it over and rubbing a black spot. “Maybe some grease or something on there.”
“Oh, that’s fucking gross,” I say, trying to spit, but there’s no saliva in my mouth.
“Tell us your name, mate,” Ivar says, his tone almost coaxing. He strokes my cheek and I pull away.
“Avery,” I mutter. “I’m guessing you guys aren’t from Utopia 64.”
“Sounds like a good place to pillage,” Sigurd says. “Right after I’m done pillaging you.”
“So much aggression toward someone so beautiful,” Erik says, looking me over. “Take it down a few notches, brother. We’ve got the blessing of Thor’s hammer in front of us. We haven’t just found a viable mate; we’ve found our mate.”
“I’m not your mate,” I snap, and the twinge in my core doesn’t like that resistance it all. It twitches painfully and I curl in on myself, despite the restraints. “I’m just a girl from a planet that got hit by a meteor.”
“Denying your mate is painful, even if you only do it verbally,” Ivar murmurs. “Where we’re from, there are legends about this, but most of us ever believed it was true. That we would be drawn to someone like this. But we are. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re meant to be ours.”
I feel my body reacting to it and I certainly felt the jolt when I tried to deny it. What is going on? Is it them? Is it me? I don’t understand. I hate it and love it at the same time. Like there’s a war raging inside me worse than the one in Sigurd’s dark brown, hungry eyes.
“Things don’t work like that where I’m from,” I whimper, the pain passing, leaving me just aroused. “We don’t… find someone and start fucking them. Well, some people did, but not me. I’ve never done that… at all!”
“Oh, you’re a maiden,” Ivar says, his eyebrows rising in surprise.
Then his finger traces down my cheek and under my neck, which makes me squirm.
“Unusual for a girl who is already a woman where we’re from,” he says, his finger moving across the Taylor on my Taylor Swift t-shirt.
“When a girl comes of age, we celebrate it.”
“By giving them a good fucking,” Sigurd adds. “Can’t start raiding until you’ve been fucked.”
“Well, I have no interest in raiding,” I say, and my core twitches painfully even before I get the next part out. “Or being fucked.”
The pain is sharper this time and I twist, pulling against the restraints, which makes my awkwardly bent limbs ache.
“Denial is not going to cause you anything but pain, and we don’t want to hurt you, despite how unhinged my brother is right now,” Ivar says, caressing my breast with a finger before tracing his way lower. “Well, I still have to spank you, but you were warned not to make things difficult.”
“You’re going to punish me because I resisted while you were kidnapping me?” I gasp, shuddering as his finger reaches the top of my jeans.
“Yes, you are our mate. We will punish you, but only when you deserve it, like now,” he says, casually unfastening the button on my jeans.
I groan when I feel the denim loosen. He’s really going to do it. He’s going to spank me, and then… they’re not going to stop. They’re going to see how wet I am and know my body is begging for everything they’re threatening to do to me.
“Don’t,” I whimper, shaking my head, even as my core clenches from his touch. “I could have shot you… I didn’t pull the trigger… doesn’t that count for something?”
“No,” Ivar says, tugging on the jeans, just enough to reveal that I’m wearing black satin panties. “I need to release your legs from the restraints in order to remove what you’re wearing. If you kick me, or try to fight, I’ll put them back on after you’re face down on this table.”
I want to fight, but there’s three of them. They could easily overpower me. Plus, I’m worried that fighting this will be something my body considers resistance and punish me just like Ivar is about to do.
“I won’t fight it,” I mutter, biting my tongue bitterly.
“Good girl,” Ivar says, his praise washing over me and calming some of the lingering ache from my resistance.
Great, now my body likes that as much as it hates fighting him.
Erik moves away from the table and leans against the wall, but continues to watch. Sigurd starts pacing, like he’s struggling with something other than restraint.
Ivar sinks his fingers into the waistband of my jeans and panties.
I comply, even lifting up so he can remove them.
He’s not rough, but he’s not exactly gentle, either.
He removes my shoes without untying them, then plucks my socks off like they’re strange garments to him.
One quick tug and I’m naked from the waist down. Naked, wet, and whimpering.
“By Odin’s thunder, do you smell that?” Sigurd rumbles, putting a hand on the wall. “Her scent is so strong, it’s like I’ve downed a glass of mead. There’s even honey on my breath.”
“Not honey, brother,” Ivar murmurs. “Her. Our mate.”
“A shame we have to punish her,” Erik smirks. “I’d rather taste her. Drink from her for hours while she comes on my tongue.”