Viking's Campaign
Skidulf the Noble Slayer was a well-known Viking in Hedeby, a giant of a man, taller than his shipmates, with long fair hair, a beard, and a mustache. He was currently leaning on the oar of a longship, amidst the splash of water and the whistle of Krivich arrows. The Volkhov was a large and wealthy river, with vessels scurrying back and forth—boats of local princes, merchants, and other folk—and there was plenty to plunder. Truvold the Boar, the jarl, the chieftain of the Vikings, had now set his mind on raiding a small Krivich town, sailing down the river from Ladoga.
Skidulf felt the thirst for blood kindling within him. He was a seasoned Viking and had often gone on raids with his jarl, killing, plundering...
But each time felt like the first. A slight nervousness appeared before the fight, but then rage flooded everything else. He was already clad in chainmail and a spectacled helmet from Germundby. His shield hung on the ship's side, to the right of the rowing bench, and several arrows were already stuck in it.A lone boat emerged from the town's pier. Of course, it could have dissuaded the Vikings from attacking: the losses the Norsemen would suffer in a fight with the ship would be too great, and Truvold wouldn't be able to take the town. However, trailing half a verst behind the first longship was another. Each carried six dozen warriors, mighty and experienced. Just by the time all the warriors on the boat would be killed, the second crew would land at the port and seize the gates of the small town, surrounded by a palisade two men high.
— Weapons ready! Oars up!" roared the helmsman, and the Vikings obeyed the command. Skidulf growled, feeling Odin's rage filling him. He drew his sword, took his shield from the side, and stood in line with the others along the left gunwale.
Several grappling hooks soared into the air, caught on the wooden sides, and pulled the ships together. Meanwhile, several archers and spearmen hurled their weapons, and one of the Slavs fell, pierced by a hog-spear.
A crack of wood, and the Norsemen, roaring, jumped onto the benches and leaped onto the enemy deck. Skidulf threw his shield ahead of him, which caught on spears, jumped onto it, pushed off again, and vaulted over the line of Kriviches.
He landed deftly on both feet, crouched, spun around, and swung his arm. One of the unarmored Slavs standing behind the line screamed and slumped onto a slashed leg. The Viking snatched his shield and plunged into the thick of the enemies, striking blows left and right. His chainmail and helmet together weighed a whole pood, but he felt no weight. In the chaos of battle, everything spun, screamed, blood sprayed, iron clanged... There were more Vikings, and they gradually pushed the two dozen surviving Kriviches toward the mast, surrounded them, and began systematically slaughtering them. They bristled with shields and spears, but broadaxes—long axes—chopped them down over the Vikings' heads. Ten minutes later, only wounded and dead Kriviches remained on the boat, along with the Vikings shouting in victory.
— Skidulf! Finish off the wounded! Helmsman! With ten warriors, bring the boat to the pier, it will be our prize! The rest—back to the longship!" shouted Truvold.
Skidulf the Noble Slayer approached a noble warrior, apparently the commander of the Kriviches. He lay with a chopped leg and couldn't move.
— Well, go on, brigand," the Slav wheezed. "Finish your work, Norseman.
— ODIN!" roared Skidulf. "Here is another noble enemy I offer you as a sacrifice! Accept my gift!" With that, he plunged his sword into the wounded warrior's face. He felt with satisfaction how the head gave way backward, how the blade overcame resistance, crunched through bone, and sank into the brain.
Freeing the blade, Skidulf walked around the entire boat searching for surviving Slavs. The last one was a young lad in a helmet and a bleached shirt.
— No, don't, they'll take a ransom for me," whined the Slav pup. "My father will pay...
The Norseman cut short this whining with a swift blow. He was splattered from head to toe with foreign blood. The longship was already casting off to dock at the port and disembark the landing party.
— Skidulf! Help bring the boat to shore!" the helmsman shouted to him, but the Viking only grinned in his face, ran up the ship's side, and leaped across the three-meter gap between his native longship and the trophy. He hadn't yet had his fill of battle.
— O-o-odin!" growled the fierce host, rushing at the few defenders.
— Perun!" the enemy princeling responded, but his shriek was drowned in the raging roar. There was a brief skirmish, all the Slavs were cut down, and the archers on the palisade had their hands chopped off. The town surrendered.
While Jarl Truvold decided what to do next, some warriors went off to plunder. After a successful battle, their blood was simply boiling in their veins.
Skidulf, in the company of Lomund and Friz, broke into one of the courtyards. Now they were in for some fun.
The three Vikings lined up all the inhabitants of the wealthy house, including the serfs. An old grandfather, a boy of about twelve, a couple of unwashed serf men, and four girls from eighteen to thirty years old.
— Hey, granddad, come here," Skidulf grunted. He had already thought of what he would do with the captives. Both his friends stood aside, grinning and anticipating the spectacle.
— What do you want, Norseman?" the proud old man replied without a trace of fear. The Viking barely restrained himself from chopping off his chicken head right then.
— Who are these girls?
— Rada is the wife of my son, whom you just killed. Velezika is her younger sister, and Zmislava and Marya are my daughters. If you want to violate them, kill me first. I don't want to see such a shameful end.
— Not your business, old thrall." Skidulf called the old man a serf not without reason. He could easily be sold.
— Take your serfs and go to Jarl Truvold. Tell him it's from me, and you won't be touched. That's your only chance not to lose your head today. And don't forget this young lad.
The old man looked at the robber with a silent gaze. Then he sighed and obeyed. He led all the male inhabitants out of the house.
— Zmislava, Marya, come here," he said, and two girls stepped forward. One was eighteen, freckled but with a sweet face, small breasts, and a rounded bottom. (Specially for .оrg — ) The second, Zmislava, was already a true woman, with a full female body and impressive charms.
— Marya, you know what will happen to your father if you don't obey me, right?" the Viking asked gently.
— The same as my brother," the girl replied, lowered her head, and sobbed.
— Yes. So try to make sure your relatives remain unharmed, including the other young ladies. If you do everything I demand, they will stay alive and unharmed.
Zmislava put a hand on her younger sister's shoulder and whispered something encouraging.
— O-okay, I'll do everything... Just don't touch them..." said the younger sister.
— For starters, suck this," Skidulf pulled off his shirt and pulled his sizable member from his trousers. It would barely fit in Marya's mouth, but she, obeying, cried but knelt down.
The warrior tore her undershirt. She sat, naked, crying, one hand trying to cover her charms. The girl took the aroused member in her hand and timidly licked it. Through tears, she looked into the grinning Viking's eyes and pushed the huge head into her mouth.
She sucked unskillfully but diligently—saving her kin. Having enjoyed the blowjob but not finishing, Skidulf ordered Zmislava:
— Now you undress and caress your sister. If you don't please me, I'll execute your father," meanwhile Lomund and Friz proceeded with the remaining girls, also sisters.
Marya cried, but her older relative was more restrained. She undressed and now, kneeling, with one hand stroked Skidulf's phallus, and with the other embraced her little sister. Their mouths met in a kiss, and they writhed, thrusting out their bottoms.
— Now suck, both of you!" and the Slav women began taking turns giving Skidulf a blowjob. He only groaned and growled as their tongues and lips fluttered over his member, giving as much pleasure as possible. Somewhere behind, other Vikings were fucking girls on the dining table.
Unable to withstand the caresses of the two sisters for long, Skidulf began to cum in Zmislava's mouth. His member, after the eruption, showed no sign of subsiding, and after Marya's caresses, it regained its former firmness.
— Magnificent," Skidulf said with satisfaction, watching as droplets of semen that had landed on the older sister's face slowly trickled down. He sent her away and turned to the younger one.
Marya froze, looking at him, also tried to leave, thinking the robber was satisfied, but was caught by the now completely naked Viking. He placed her limp body on a long table and made her arch her bottom. The girl only sobbed aloud, but after he entered her and took her virginity, she merely shook silently.
For the huge Viking, Marya turned out to be too tight, but he somehow managed not to tear her. The girl lay and felt the huge rapist invade her and begin to use her roughly, but could do nothing.
However, the member moved inside, and to her horror, she began to feel pleasure. The death of her brother and sister—all of it suddenly vanished, and the Slav woman, with a black void instead of reason, suddenly cried out in bliss. Skidulf stretched her as best he could, and she flowed, arched, and moaned beneath him. After twenty minutes, the Viking powerfully poured into her and stepped back. Marya also experienced an orgasm and now lay with her eyes closed, thinking of nothing.
— Perhaps I'll keep this one a bit longer," grinned the Viking, pulling up his trousers.