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)
“Each bicycle is equipped with a display,” Mor Astrid explained, gesturing to the screens in front of us. “It will show your heart rate and arousal level. Your task is to bring yourself to the very edge of orgasm and then hold yourself there.”
I stared at the display, watching as my heart rate gradually slowed from the treadmill exertion. Below that, an indicator labeled ‘Arousal’ currently read 7.
“You must reach arousal level ten,” Mor Astrid instructed, “and then maintain yourself at nine or ten until told to stop. An alarm will sound if you climax without permission.”
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. The task seemed impossible—how could I bring myself so close to the edge and then just… stop? And to do it in front of everyone, no less?
“Begin.” Mor Astrid’s voice cracked like a whip.
CHAPTER 18
Mary
Hesitantly, I began to pedal. The movement caused the saddle to shift against my pussy, sending little sparks of pleasure through my core. I bit my lip, trying to focus on maintaining a steady rhythm as I pedaled, but the sensations from the saddle were impossible to ignore. Each rotation sent little sparks of pleasure through my body, making my breath hitch in my throat.
I glanced at the display. I felt a weird mixture of pride and embarrassment as my arousal level went from 7 to 8.
Suddenly, movement at the edge of the room caught my eye. My heart leapt into my throat as I saw Sven enter, his powerful presence commanding attention even from across the chamber. Erik was close behind him, and then Lars and Henrik filed in as well. Finally, Jens and Aksel joined the group.
The Sons of Odin had come to watch our trial. Each man was naked save for a linen loincloth that did little to hide their masculine power.
I felt my face flame with embarrassment. Sven’s intense blue gaze swept over us, lingering on me for a moment that made my pussy throb against the saddle. I pedaled faster, desperate to please him, to show him how well I could follow instructions.
“Remember, girls,” Mor Astrid’s voice cut through my thoughts, “bring yourselves to the edge, but do not come without permission.”
I nodded frantically, biting my lip as I focused on the sensations building within me. The knob on the saddle rubbed against my clit with each rotation, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I could feel myself getting wetter, my arousal coating the seat as I rode.
To my left, I heard Yvette let out a strangled moan, and a buzzer sounded from her bike. Before I could turn to look, the sharp crack of Mor Astrid’s strap filled the air, followed by Yvette’s yelp of pain.
“Foolish girl,” Mor Astrid scolded. “Did I not warn you about coming without permission?”
I watched in horror as Mor Astrid brought the strap down again and again on Yvette’s exposed backside. Yvette sobbed, her body shaking as she tried to keep pedaling through the punishment.
“Let this be a lesson to all of you,” Mor Astrid announced. “Control is paramount. You must learn to ride the edge of pleasure without toppling over.”
I swallowed hard, redoubling my efforts to maintain a hold on my body’s reactions. The display in front of me showed my arousal rise to nine, teetering on the brink of ten. I slowed my pedaling slightly, trying to keep myself just below the peak.
“Mary,” Mor Astrid’s voice made me jump. “You’re only at level eight. That’s not good enough.”
I looked down at my display in confusion. How could that be? I felt so close to the edge already. But the older woman had spoken the truth: the number had fallen. I whimpered in frustration.
“Stop pedaling,” Mor Astrid commanded.
I obeyed immediately, my legs trembling as I held them still. Mor Astrid approached, her strap dangling ominously from her hand.
“Touch yourself,” she instructed. “Show your Herra how eager you are to please him.”
I felt my face burn with shame as I reached down between my legs, my fingers finding my sensitive inner lips already soaking wet with my need for my master. The eyes of all the Sons of Odin were on me, but none burned more intensely than Sven’s icy blue gaze. I began to stroke myself, my fingers circling my clit as I had done so many times in private. But this was different—I felt exposed, observed, judged.
Suddenly, I felt the sharp sting of Mor Astrid’s strap across my upper back. I gasped, my hand faltering in its movements.
“Don’t stop,” Mor Astrid commanded. “Let the pain fuel your arousal.”
Another lash fell, this time across my shoulders. To my shock and embarrassment, I felt my arousal spike. The display jumped from eight to nine, then quickly to ten. My breath came in short pants as I teetered on the edge of orgasm.