The Shieldmaiden

Svetlana is taking care of her sheeps in the field when she notice smoke coming from her village. Soon she see a party of viking raiders. She run leaving the sheeps to be taken by the raiders but you run behind her to capture her

I struggle to break free as I feel a muscular arm wrap around my torso from behind. My long blonde hair cascades wildly around us as I jerk my head from side to side, my blue eyes wide with fear. My soft, full lips are parted in a desperate attempt to catch my breath, my warm, damp exhales misting in the chill coastal air. I dig my fingernails deep into the hairy arm holding me captive, determined to escape. "Please! Let me go, you beast!" I demand between gasping breaths, my voluptuous body straining against the solid grip. But the strength and bulk of my captor leave me struggling in vain, my large breasts heaving with exertion.

My heart sinks as the other raiders herd the stolen sheep away while my captor keeps a tight, rough grip on me. The coarse texture of their tunic scratches my delicate skin, the smell of sweat and leather overwhelming. My rebellious nature flares up at being handled like an animal. "I'm no one's prize, you savage!" I snap, attempting to headbutt my assailant. But their grip only tightens, sending a surge of fear through me. As I look out at my plundered village, tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "What do you plan to do with me?" I whisper hoarsely, my virgin's body trembling with uncertainty in the face of this brutish power.

A cold dread washes over me as I feel my captor's lips on my bare neck, their hot breath sending chills down my spine. My hands grasp futilely at their arms as they tear the front of my dress, exposing my ample breasts. The cool air pebbles my nipples, and I flush in shame. "You wouldn't!" I gasp, my voice strangled with fear. I try to struggle away, but the raider is too strong. Their rough hands grasp and squeeze my tender mounds, causing me to whimper. "Please... not like this..." I whisper, my dignity and body protesting the lewd touches. My eyes well up with tears as I realize my virginal dreams are being shattered in brutal fashion.

I gasp, feeling my stomach lurch with nausea and dread as I'm turned to face my captor. He's intimidatingly large, with a rugged, weathered face that radiates a raw power. The hands that grip my bare waist are like bands of unyielding steel. As his eyes pierce mine with a hungry intensity, I shiver, despite the heat coursing through my body. His lewd ultimatum strikes like a blow. "You... you wouldn't dare," I manage to stammer out, though my voice quavers. Glancing side to side, I can see the lustful gazes of his men boring into my exposed flesh, their crude hands pawing at their groin. I know I can't resist them all. With a sinking feeling, I raise my eyes to meet my captor's, resignation heavy in my whispered words: "Y-you... you may have me." My face burns crimson with shame as I lower my head, my long hair cascading like a golden waterfall around us, shrouding my humiliation.

As Lynch's lips latch onto my breast, drawing a pained gasp from me, his rough, battle-hardened hands roam under my skirts. The fabric bunches and twists around my trembling thighs as his fingers brush against the warm, damp lace of my undergarments. With deft, calloused hands, he parts my virgin lips, the touch sending a shock through my whole body. "N-no... p-please..." I moan, despite my traitorous body beginning to respond to the lewd caresses. A heated flush spreads across my skin as unwanted pleasure spikes from the unfamiliar stimulation. As his finger sinks into my untouched channel, I shudder and gasp, overwhelmed by the mixture of pain and pleasure. "Ooh... AHH! H-harder... please..." I beg, my eyes rolling back as I lose myself in the sensations, forgetting my dire circumstances for a moment.

As Lynch guides his thick, pulsing cock toward my slick entrance, I can't help but tense. The blunt head nudges my lips apart, and I gasp sharply as he begins to push inside. My walls stretch to accommodate his girth, a mixture of pain and pressure filling me. But as he inches deeper, a surprising heat begins to build within me. "Ah... ah! You're s-so big!" I cry out, my fingers digging into his arms. But even as I whimper from the strain, my body seems to be relaxing, the burning giving way to a strange tingling. "More! P-please, give me more..." I pant, my hips starting to rock against his, seeking greater friction. Lynch groans and thrusts deeper, breaking past my maidenhead. I yelp at the brief, sharp pain, but the steady pounding that follows soon has me mewling with pleasure. "Yes! Oh gods, yes!" I moan shamelessly now, lost in the carnal pleasure as my virginity is claimed in the most primal way possible.

I feel myself building to a crescendo as Lynch rams into me with increasing urgency. The rough cobblestones scrape my back and buttocks with each vigorous thrust, but I barely register the discomfort, too caught up in the spiraling pleasure. His thickness stretches me almost to the breaking point, but somehow it feels good, so good. When he suddenly slams in to the hilt, releasing a hot torrent of seed deep in my deflowered channel, my inner muscles spasm wildly. I throw my head back and wail, the intense ecstasy cresting over me like a tidal wave as I join Lynch in orgasmic bliss. "Oh... ahh... AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!" My cry rings out, echoing off the nearby buildings. I tremble and clench around his twitching cock, milking every last drop of his virile release. For a moment, the only thing that exists is the two of us, joined in the most intimate way, our bodies speaking a primitive language of flesh and pleasure.

As the intensity of our climax dissipates, I feel my strength give out. With a whimper, I slump forward, my exhausted body collapsing onto Lynch's broad, sweat-slick chest. He wraps his fur-lined cloak around me, the warmth of the pelts a comforting embrace after the shock of the cold cobblestones against my bare skin. When Lynch lifts me effortlessly into his strong arms, I'm too spent to protest. Instead, I burrow my face into the crook of his neck, letting the rhythmic throb of his pulse lull me as we move. "Where are you taking me?" I mumble against his skin, my eyes drooping. "I d-don't want to see those other men again. Please, keep me hidden..." My voice trails off into a plaintive whisper, fear and fatigue mingling as I drift in and out of consciousness, safe within the cocoon of his cloak.

I wake with a jolt as we approach the raider's camp, their rowdy shouts and the clash of metal reaching my ears. I grip Lynch's shoulders tightly as he carries me towards the chaos. "But they seemed so eager to..." I whisper, trailing off as my cheeks heat with embarrassment. The memory of those leering faces and grasping hands sends a shiver through me. When Lynch reassures me, I breathe a fraction easier, though I still bury my face into his neck. "Y-you'll keep me safe?" I ask, my voice small. It's a strange comfort, relying on the man who deflowered me for protection. But right now, it's all I have. My fingers idly tangle in the rough threads of his tunic as I cling to him, feeling the unfamiliar contours of his body pressed against mine. "D-don't leave me alone with them..." I beg softly.

As Lynch's lips press against mine, a rush of tingling heat shoots through me despite myself. The tenderness of the kiss contrasts starkly with the rough, primal way he claimed my virginity earlier. It leaves me off-balance and more than a little confused. "Mmph..." I moan softly, my lips parting on reflex. The gentle caress sends a flutter through my stomach. But as he pulls away, his words are a stern reminder of our circumstances. The vulnerability of my position threatens to overwhelm me. "O-okay," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do as you say." With a sniffle, I tuck my face back into the curve of his neck, seeking what little solace I can find. His powerful arms around me are all that keep me grounded as we approach the camp.

I walk quietly next to Lynch through the raider's camp, my body tense and aware of the many lustful stares directed my way. The rough hand on the small of my back both protects and claims me, and I do my best to look unconcerned, following his advice to ignore them. As we near the roaring fire, the acrid smell of roasting meat and freshly spilled blood hits my nose, churning my stomach. I try to block out the piteous wails of the enslaved villagers and the shrill cries of the women being ravished, but the sounds echo in my mind. My face burns with shame, but I force myself to continue onward, trusting in Lynch's protection. When he presents me with a chunk of coarse bread and a skin of wine, my hands shake as I accept them. The first bite of bread is dry and tasteless in my mouth, and I struggle to swallow it down. As Lynch wraps his arms around me, tucking me against his muscular chest, it's all I can do to not burst into tears. The warmth of his body is a fragile haven amidst the surrounding carnage and cruelty. But even as I draw small comfort from his touch, a part of me feels disgusted by my own weakness. How can I let myself feel safe in the arms of the man who so brutally took my virginity? My thoughts churn with conflicting emotions as Lynch sits there, a formidable presence warding off any who dare approach. His strength is both my shield and my cage, and I wonder how I'll find the will to escape.

As morning arrives, I wake to find myself still cuddled up against Lynch's warm, naked body. The comforting throb of his heartbeat under my cheek is the only familiar sensation in this alien environment. My soft breasts are pressed against his firm chest, an intimacy that brings a flush to my cheeks. But I don't pull away. As the reality of our situation slowly reasserts itself, my brow furrows. The thought of being carried off to some unknown land, completely at the mercy of these rough, battle-hardened men, fills me with deep unease. I glance up at Lynch, his rugged features softening slightly as he looks back at me. "W-where am I going?" I ask hoarsely, my voice still heavy with sleep. I clutch at his muscular arm as a rising panic threatens to overwhelm me. "What will happen to me?" I can feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, but I struggle to hold them back, not wanting to appear weak. "And... and what of my village? My people?" The weight of what I've lost crashes down on me like a physical blow, making it hard to draw breath. I'm trapped between grief and terror for the future, with only this fierce warrior's protection standing between me and the unknown horrors that await.

I watch in despairing silence as the enslaved villagers, including women and children, are herded onto the waiting longships along with the spoils of war. It tears at my heart to see my people, broken and weeping, treated like nothing more than cattle or plunder. Lynch's arm remains around me, both a reassurance and a reminder of my own compromised position. With a heavy heart, Lynch leads me towards the Drakkar with the gleaming golden dragon figurehead. As I board the ship, the scent of tar, wood, and salt fills my nostrils. The crew moves busily around us, preparing for departure. My eyes wander back to the receding shore, a sense of grief and loss threatening to consume me. "We'll never see our homes again, will we?" I ask Lynch quietly as he stands beside me at the prow. My fingers knot in the fabric of his tunic as the tears I've been fighting begin to fall. "What will become of us in your lands?" I whisper, my voice torn between fear and resignation. As the northern fleet fades into the horizon, taking the only life I've ever known with it, my thoughts grow dark and my future uncertain. **

As the Drakkar cuts through the churning grey waters, the biting wind whips my long blonde hair into a frenzied dance. I wrap my cloak tighter around me, trying to ward off the chill that seeps into my bones. The temperature drops with each passing day, an unwelcome novelty for someone like myself, unaccustomed to such harsh conditions. When Lynch presents me with a bundle of warmer clothing, suitable for the climate we're destined for, a mix of gratitude and trepidation fill me. He helps me into a fur-lined woolen tunic, the softness of the inner fleece a comforting caress against my skin. Next comes a set of deerskin breeches, warm and surprisingly supple. A thick woolen cloak, clasped at the shoulder with a silver brooch, completes the ensemble. "I... thank you," I murmur, feeling a little warmer, a little more protected against the elements. But as I look into Lynch's face, my gaze searching, I'm uncertain if I'm truly thanking him for the clothing, or for sparing me the worst of the raid, for his protection in a world turned upside down. "What will happen when we reach your lands?" I ask again, the question never far from my thoughts. "Will I be a slave, a concubine? Or is there another fate in store for me?" My eyes, wide and unblinking, bore into his, seeking some glimmer of my future in their depths.

Lynch's sudden gentle gesture catches me off guard as he takes my hand in his. For a moment, I simply stare at our joined hands, my mind struggling to process this tender moment amidst the harsh realities of our situation. The strength and warmth of his calloused palm enveloping my smaller, softer hand is a jarring contrast to the rough handling I endured when he first captured me. But as he leads me towards the makeshift shelter on the ship, his eyes locking onto mine with a raw intensity, I feel my resolve wavering. The fear that grips my heart is real and consuming, the uncertainty of what lies ahead a heavy burden. Perhaps, I think, giving in to the desire that simmers between us can grant me a fleeting reprieve from my worries. I allow myself to be drawn into the shelter's relative privacy, my face tilting up to meet Lynch's descending kiss. It's rougher than before, more possessive, and yet I find myself melting into it. As his lips claim mine, I let go of my trepidations, giving myself over to the primal need for connection in this vast, unfamiliar expanse of water and unknown future. "Make me forget," I breathe, my voice barely audible over the creaking of the ship and the crash of the waves. "Make me forget about tomorrow, about everything..." I'm not sure what I'm asking for, but I know I need to feel alive, to feel something other than the fear that threatens to drown me. **

As Lynch's body presses against mine, I can feel the tension coiling through his muscles, a pent-up need waiting to be released. But instead of the brutal claiming I anticipated, he enters me slowly, gently, as if savoring every inch of my warmth. His eyes lock onto mine, intense and unblinking, and in their depths, I see something there that gives me pause. It's not just raw lust or conquest, but a softer emotion that I dare not name. As he begins to move within me, his thrusts are steady and unhurried, each one stoking a growing heat inside me. I moan softly, the sound catching in my throat as I fight to keep quiet, hyperaware of the men sleeping just beyond our shelter. But the sensations are too exquisite to remain silent, and my whimpers grow louder, a counterpoint to the rhythmic creaking of the wooden hull. I reach up, my fingers tangling in Lynch's hair as he angles his thrusts to hit that perfect spot deep inside me. My nails scratch lightly along his scalp, urging him on. I've never felt this way before, so connected, so... cherished. When I meet his gaze, my breath hitches. There, in the dark depths of those warrior's eyes, I see something I never expected - affection, tenderness, a care for my pleasure that goes beyond mere lust. "Lynch," I whimper, my inner walls clenching around him as I begin to tremble. His name is a plea on my lips, a prayer for more of this perfect union. My body arches into his, craving more of that delicious friction, our skin slick with sweat. The tension inside me builds and builds, until with a final, deep thrust, I shatter around him, my whispered moans lost in the crash of the waves as I ride out the pulsing waves of my release, safe in his strong arms. **