Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“Please,” I heard myself beg, the words tumbling from my lips before I could stop them. “Please don’t stop. I’ll be good. I’ll obey you. Just let me come.”
A small, distant part of me—the völva, the observer—noted with clinical detachment that I was playing my role perfectly. I was convincing him of my submission, my desperation. This was all part of the mission, I told myself. All part of deceiving the enemy.
But the rest of me knew the shameful truth: I wasn’t pretending. I truly did want—need—this man to use me, to fill me, to grant me release. My body had betrayed me completely, had fallen under the spell of his dominance just as thoroughly as it had yielded to Sven’s.
“Oh, I’m not finished with you, Mary,” Marmareus murmured, his voice dark with promise. “Your education has barely begun.”
I felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against my anus, slick with the oil of consecration he had applied earlier. My entire body tensed automatically, the ring of muscle clenching tight against the intrusion.
“Relax,” he commanded, his free hand snaking around to find my clit. “Yield to me, Columba. Accept the civilization I bring you.”
His fingers began to circle the terribly sensitive bud of my clit with expert precision, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward. My body responded immediately, helplessly, the tension in my lower muscles easing almost against my will. As he continued to stimulate my clit, I felt myself opening to him, the tight pucker of my anus gradually yielding to the pressure of his cock.
“Good girl,” he praised, and to my shame, the words sent a fresh surge of arousal through me. “Now, when I enter you fully, when I claim this most intimate part of you, you may come. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I gasped, my hips pushing back against him, silently begging for more. “Yes, Leo, I understand.”
“You may come as I civilize you,” he repeated, the pressure against my anus increasing steadily. “Show me how thoroughly you submit to your new master.”
With exquisite slowness, he began to push past the resistant ring of muscle. The burning stretch was intense, bordering on pain, yet the fingers circling my clit never stopped their maddening rhythm. The dual sensations—the intrusion behind and the pleasure in front—created a bewildering confusion in my nervous system.
“Please,” I whimpered, no longer certain what I was begging for. “Please, Leo…”
With a final push, the head of his cock breached me completely. The sudden fullness, the burning stretch, the forbidden invasion of that most private place—it all coalesced into a single point of sensation that shattered my control entirely.
“Come for me now,” Marmareus commanded, his voice resonating with authority. “Come as I civilize you, you little whore.”
A sob tore from my throat as the orgasm crashed through me like a tidal wave, obliterating thought, obliterating resistance, obliterating everything but pure sensation. My vagina clenched rhythmically, my entire body convulsing with the force of my release. The leather restraints creaked as I strained against them, lost in the overwhelming pleasure.
And then, in that moment of absolute surrender, my consciousness expanded, and I went to the world tree. The rushing sound filled my ears once more, and I was pulled away, up and into the branches of Yggdrasil.
This time, the vision came with crystalline clarity, as if the so-called act of civilization had somehow purified my connection to the cosmic tree. I saw the frozen Arctic bay spread out below me, gleaming silver-blue under the pale winter sun. But now, my perspective shifted, soaring higher, encompassing a vaster landscape.
What I had thought was a cathedral—that soaring structure of steel and glass—was something far more extraordinary. It wasn’t a building at all, but the skeletal framework of an enormous spacecraft, a vessel designed not for ocean travel, but for the void between stars. Workers swarmed over its surface like ants, their tiny forms dwarfed by the immensity of what they were creating.
The Pretorian Guard were building a space station there in the frozen wasteland where few would notice, where the harsh conditions provided both secrecy and the perfect testing ground for technology meant to sustain life in the unforgiving emptiness of space.
I understood now what Marmareus had meant about taking humanity to the stars. This wasn’t metaphor or grandiloquence—it was literal truth. The Guard were preparing for exodus, for escape from a world they believed was doomed to collapse into barbarism.
My vision panned outward, following the coastline until I spotted the longship of the Sons of Odin, frozen in the bay. On its deck stood warriors, their forms blurred by distance but their purpose clear. They were coming for me, for Camille, across the ice. Sven was coming.
But something else revealed itself to me, something that made my heart stutter with the weight of its significance. Between the longship and the space-station-in-progress, I saw lines of connection, filaments of possibility stretching like Yggdrasil’s roots between the two seemingly opposed forces.