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Ægir's Wife Ch. 01

By: Tara_Neale



Kirsty stared out at the fjord. Its sheer beauty took her breath away. The water were relatively still this morning, not the choppy waves of the storms. But it was the way that the majestic peaks of rock rose almost straight out of the blue water and how green vegetation, mostly grasses and low shrubs, hung stubbornly to the sides of those rocks, except for the places where the ascent was so steep that nothing could hang on. There was such a rustic beauty to this place, even as what Petrine warned her would be a harsh winter closed in fast. 

Already it was practically dark all day long, only a couple of hours daylight in the middle of the afternoon. But it was the Northern lights that she had heard about all her life that fascinated her most. A couple of times these past few days when she could not sleep all alone in that monstrosity of a bed, she had snuck out and just sat on this pier and watched them dance like the gods and goddesses across the dark night sky. She was certain she had never seen anything as beautiful and could not imagine anything that could compete with their magnificence. 

Kirsty was still a bit awed with all the changes in her life in less than two weeks. She had gone from being virtually alone in a city of eight million people to being part of a family, odd though they could be in some ways. Petrine was everything that she had always wished her own mother could be. 

And working one-on-one with her step-daughter, Monica, was fulfilling in a way that her work with dozens of autistic children for an hour once a week or less, just never could be. Watching the almost daily progress in the little girl was rewarding in a way she had never imagined. She had not realized it until coming here, but the truth was that she had begun to burn-out on even the career, which was the highlight of her old life. 

Of course, her 'marriage' to three über hot fishermen was beyond anything she had ever dared imagine. Better even than the embarrassingly spicy erotica by her favorite author Raquel Graffen. She chuckled, 'damned if the woman only knew.' Hell, Bjorn alone with his stunning good looks that belonged on the cover of one of Graffen's books was more than a girl like her could ever hope for. 

Kirsty knew she was not ugly, but with her flaming red hair, freckles that covered way too much of her zaftig body. She could buy that some men might find her full breasts and round hips appealing but it was her tummy that never seemed to get any flatter or tighter, no matter how many hours she spent on the treadmill at the gym or how many crunches she did, that bothered her most. At best, she was...average.

But none of them were...especially Bjorn. She knew that men were not supposed to be called beautiful but he was. With his longish blond hair that begged her to touch it, those entrancing green eyes, the body that looked like he spent hours in the gym simply from his work and that smile that could light any room...and hid the darkness of Loki himself. 

If that was not enough, he was even more intelligent than he was good looking. Whether it was philosophy, ancient mythology or the science, the man was one of the best read people she had ever met...let alone for a 'simple fisherman' as he said. As a lover he was more than any woman could ask for, passionate and yet tender, gentle and so damned sweet it stopped her heart sometimes.

If that was not enough, Mikael was a devastating combination of caring single dad to Monika and 'bad boy.' He might not be as classically handsome as his 'baby brother' with his darker hair and thick beard that she suspected hid a face as handsome as Bjorn's. No, Mikael was more like this land...rustic beauty that reached something deep inside of her. 

Especially those grey eyes that could transform into molten silver with the heat of passion. She smiled as her fingers automatically rose to trace the spot just over her left breast that bore his silvery white mark. Knife play was not something that she would have thought she would find so intensely erotic...but she did...just as much as she loved Bjorn's floggers or Sven's ropes. 

Honestly, this place, these people, her new life were almost perfect. Almost...

Except for him. Sven. He reminded her of the peak she saw in the distance. It rose taller than any of the others around it. Standing as it did at the fork of the waters, just as he did between tradition and modernity, trying to fight the tide and navigate his family safely through the rough waters. Its white grey face reminded her of the man too. Though he was barely forty his hair was already thickly laced with the same silver as his mother's. His blue eyes could reflect the same icy cold of the waters he had fished for longer than she had been alive. 

Sometimes her heart broke for the man, who had never been a little boy, who felt as if he must bear the whole weight of his family upon too narrow shoulders. Her Atlas. She sighed as she reminded herself...that was his choice too. She had tried so hard to reach out to him, to comfort and care for him as she did Bjorn and even Mikael. It seemed though that all Sven knew was taking. Taking what he wanted, when he wanted, and tossing it aside when he did not. 

Her hand went to her lower abdomen. She knew that she should be happy, glad that she was not pregnant. Not yet anyway. Not this soon. Not with so much still unsettled especially between her and Sven. Of course, she knew that was going to be a major disappointment to him. His need to breed her like a prize heifer at a county fete still bothered her, hurt her deeply. 

It was not that she did not want a baby. She did. Almost desperately. When her six year relationship ended a few months ago, she had been more upset about all the time she had wasted on the wrong man than the fact that he had succumbed to his family's pressure to an arrange marriage with a second cousin from India. Of course, when they had announced his new wife was pregnant. Kirsty chuckled at the memory...well, that was how she had ended up in this mess. 

Was it a mess though? Really? She and Bjorn had almost immediately bonded, despite her initial reserve around her sexy Thor. Though things had been a bit rougher with Mikael, she could never resist his sexy daddy side any more than she could the bad boy in her bed. She had no doubt that they both loved her too. Hell, she had even gained an instant family with Mikael's daughter and a mother that was more mother than in-law. She loved the quiet, peaceful beauty of the Holding after a lifetime of the discomforting noise, hustle and fast pace of London. 

No, honestly only two things still bothered her. Sven's attitude towards their relationship. And the unconventionality of it all. She had not even been able to broach that sensitive issue with the one person she considered a genuine friend, the cranial osteopath Roz from work. And Roz was as open about her own kinks as anyone she had ever met. Just that when they messaged, she was never quite certain how to explain...three husbands. 

And after a disastrous first experience, she had not dared go into town with Olaf and Petrine, though they offered every time they went. The idea of knowing stares and whispered foreign words that while she might not know the exact meaning, she knew exactly what they were saying behind her back was a bit too daunting to the woman that has spent a live time trying to live up to everyone's expectations...being the good girl.

Her nipples hardened within her bra at those words. That had nothing to do with trying for over a quarter of century to please her parents, especially her career-driven mother. No, these past few months as she went deeper and deeper into her own submissive nature through her saucy e-books, those words had taken on new meaning. And when one of the guys said them to her in those sexy Dom voices, she got so incredibly wet. So wet...and horny.

She laughed and the sound echoed off the water and cliffs. Until she had agreed to meet her on-line friend for a 'simple coffee' while his boat was docked in Tilbury, Kirsty had been practically a virgin. She was in university before she lost her virginity to a boyfriend that she had been seeing for months. That had quickly faded though. 

Then sex had just never played much of a role in her six year relationship with Raj. At first she had thought it sweet and old-fashioned that they had been dating for several months before they became intimate. If the sex was nothing spectacular and infrequent, well, there were more important things she told herself...like shared goals and values. But that too had been nothing more than an excuse for not rocking the boat with a man that even her picky mother approved of.

It was for certain that Nancy Dickens would not approve of her current situation. Three husbands aside, the fact that Nordic fishermen did not met her mother's rather narrow list of acceptable occupations for her future son...sons-in-laws. Not even Bjorn's brilliant conversation and thoughtful insights would impress her mother. Then again Kirsty should be accustomed by now to being a disappointment. 

So why should any of that matter? What her mother thought? What a town full of people that she did not even know said? Wasn't what mattered the fact that she cared for them...and they cared for her? 

And the smoking hot sex did not hurt either. Hell, she had come more in the past two weeks than she had her whole lifetime up until then. Not that sex was everything, but great sex sure beat occasional bad sex any day. Just that after all you can eat buffet of it with three hot husbands, this starvation diet was wearing thin after less than a week.

She was just about to get up and head back to the house when she noticed it. A boat turning up the fork in the fjord that led to the Holding. Boats were common enough around here. She saw hundreds every day. They were as common a means of transportation as cars...maybe more so. But not boats this size. There were not many of those. But Ægir's Captive was one of them. She held her breath hopefully as the ship drew closer. All the ships around here were the same plain black and white so that would be no help. She could only wait until it was close enough to read its name. 

Patience had never been one of her biggest virtues, but she had no choice this time. Until she saw that familiar name. She was not certain what to do. Should she run back to the house, call Petrine and Monika? She realized that some part of her selfishly wanted a few moments alone with them. Things had been so incredibly tense before they left. Bjorn was jealous of her growing feelings for Mikael. 

And well Sven was...Sven. Since he called the shots as the captain he was the one that decided they simply had to make the sudden and unscheduled trip. Had the past few days helped? She would hate to think that they had killed one another. She laughed again as she remembered Bjorn's suggestion that he and Mikael would tie Sven up and throw him in the hold with the fish if they had to. Had they? A part of her almost hoped they had...she would love to see the great and mighty Atlas brought low and lying with the fish. 

She smiled as the boat turned towards the pier on which she stood. She saw Bjorn's larger form working ropes and readying to tie it off. Then she was relieved to see Mikael waving from her at the back of the boat...if she were married to three fishermen maybe she needed to start learning the language...was that the stern or the bow? Of course if both Bjorn and Mikael were on deck then that meant that Sven was at the helm as usual. So much for seeing him surrounded by dead fish. Oh well, maybe that was a good sign. She would know soon enough as her guys threw the ropes toward the pier and Bjorn leapt off the boat and began tying it off. 

She fought the urge to run to him and fling herself in his strong arms...but just barely. But the boat was no sooner secured than she did not have to worry about that. She was engulfed in not one set of strong arms, but two and passed back and forth between heated kisses until she was intoxicated. And breathless...totally breathless. One thing was certain...Bjorn and Mikael seemed to have buried the hatchet...and not in one another either. Things were definitely looking up. 

At least until she looked up and saw his dark countenance stared down at them all from the boat. "God morgan, my sweet wife," but the steely cold of his voice did not match his words. And when he turned to his brothers and said "Toffelhjälten," something she did not understand in Norwegian, she watched both Bjorn and Mikael fist their hands at their sides and blush. 

She frowned as Bjorn and Mikael nodded at him and released her slowly, "What did he say?" she demanded of them, holding onto Bjorn's coat. 

Bjorn blushed even redder and looked down at the weathered wood as he replied, "Slipper hero."

She shook her head, "I don't get it. What does that mean?"

This time it was Mikael who responded, "It means that you have us under your foot. Pussy whipped I believe you would say. It is just one of the many colorful phrases used here."

Kirsty felt the air whoosh from her sails. It seemed that this trip had not been as successful as she hoped. At least not when it came to him. She nodded and smiled weakly as she kissed them both on the cheek. "See you back at the house. I will make sure that lunch is ready." 

Squeezing Mikael's' hand she added, "Monika will be so glad to see her Papa." She could tell he wanted to ask more about how the child had been in his absence but Kirsty only smiled, "Go on, and finish up here. We will be waiting."

She looked up at Sven before she turned to head back to the house, "Glad you are home safely too, husband." 

"I am sure," he replied. "Did you obey?"

She knew exactly what he was asking. How could she not? She had spent the past hour shifting uncomfortably from cheek to cheek on the cold, hard surface of the pier. The butt plug was not painful, merely uncomfortable, especially sitting down. It took all her strength not to tell him to go fuck himself once more. 

But she had spent the last week planning this one too. She knew that if she were to truly make this work, this new life of hers, she could not settle for anything half way. Or in this case, two-thirds. She needed it all. This husband as well as the others. So she inhaled deeply and smiled, "You may see for yourself tonight. I choose you, Sven."

She caught only a glimpse of his and Bjorn's shocked faces as she turned to leave. Mikael though clasped her hand and smiled as he whispered, "Good girl."

She returned his smile though she feared it was far weaker than she would have liked. She hoped with all her heart that this was the right course. And that she had the courage to go through with it. "Be with me on this one, my sweet Freyja," she prayed to the ancient Norse goddess of love, fertility and battle. Bjorn might have selected her as Kirsty's pseudo-patron saint, but when it came to his oldest brother she would need all the goddess's gifts...in love, reproduction and definitely battle. With Sven this was war...one that she needed to win if she were to ever truly be happy here. 

***

Sven had spent the rest of the day in an exceptionally foul mood. He simply could not figure the woman out. After their parting, he had expected her to be angry and deviant. To run to his brothers and their newly formed alliance. He had thought she might even have trouble picking, which of the two shared her bed this first night back. Hell, he had considered the possibility that she might choose both. But he had never for a moment thought it would be him that she called this night. 

He knew he was simply delaying the inevitable at this point. Dinner, which had been a rather austere occasion with little conversation, other than the odd comment between him and his uncle about the trip, had been over for a couple of hours. She had spent most of it by the fireplace with Mikael and Monika playing the good mommy to his niece.

Fuck not even that seemed to be going to plan right now. His baby brother had been almost gloating the morning that he informed him that she was definitely not pregnant. Although he had managed to take Bjorn down a couple of notches when he reminded him that news meant he too was not to be a daddy. But clearly, she was doing a fine job as surrogate mother to his niece. 

And loving wife to his brothers. Damn them. Damn them to Helveti. Damn her especially. Why did she have to be so... Fucking real? That damned face and those eyes that could hide nothing. How had someone like her actually survived as long as she did in this fucked up world without a protector? 

That was a big part of the problem. She brought out his need to protect...something no other woman ever had. She made him want things no other woman ever could. Damn her for that. 

He was the one though that was truly damned. Damned to a night in that monstrosity of a bed and that farce of a bedroom. Not that he did not love dungeons...he did. Just that he did not particularly like the idea of sleeping where you played. Or the generations of brides, who had called that place home. He had seen his mother's pain in this lifestyle first hand. It was one of the reasons he had wanted no part in this family tradition. 

He had spent days trying to figure a way out of this one. He supposed he could just walk away. It was not like he had to join the happy little threesome. He could do as he had proposed all along...continue as he had for a lifetime in casual, non-committed relationships with married women who were safe.

But every time he had almost convinced himself that was the right thing to do for everyone, her face would appear in his mind. His cock would get rock hard. He would be forced to admit just how fucking impossible it would be watching her live happily ever after with his brothers...under the same damned roof...her room right fucking next door to his own. 

Virtually sound proof or not he could not imagine twenty or thirty years of sleeping in his bed wondering what was happening on the other side of that door. Of course, nothing stopped him from doing like his uncle. There was still plenty of places on the Holding for another cabin. Perhaps Mikael would even consider letting him finish the one he had begun for Greta. 

None of that mattered tonight though. He looked around the deck that had been in perfect order for hours. He could not find another single reason to delay this any longer. He considered one more time bringing her back here. It was the strategy that had worked up until now...keeping her in his territory, his terms. 

But he had given pretty specific instructions after dinner and even if she had opted to help Mikael bath their daughter and put Monika to bed, she had probably been kneeling way too long on that hard floor already. Bright guy that he was. He just had to be obsessive-compulsive with his subs. 

She was not just any sub though. She was his wife. There was a difference. A huge one. The fact that he still hoped that one day soon she would be the mother of his child was just part of that difference. After a lifetime of being overly cautious none of his subs could possibly become pregnant, the feel of her tight cunt wrapped around his bare cock was more intense sometime than he had ever imagined. 

Everything about the woman was intense. And that was an emotion he had spent a lifetime pushing aside. Until that first afternoon in his cabin with her, he had never felt that thrill...that alive...except when he stared Njord and Ran in the face during the fiercest storms, challenged them and snatched his life back from them at the last moment. 

How did he snatch it back from her though? That was what he had spent days trying to figure out. How did he escape her loving arms when for the first fucking time in his whole life he looked forward to bringing the boat into port? When he wanted nothing more than to swing her up in the air as his brothers had, watch her smiling and laughing...and know that she truly was glad he was home. Him. Not Bjorn. Not Mikael. Not them. Him! 


Ægir's Wife Ch. 01



He hopped from the boat onto the pier and headed back to the house. It was too damned bad that it was so fucking close, he could use more time to figure this all out. Then again if he had not come up with any answers during a week at sea, he was not likely to in a two minute walk back home. Of course, he could delay that a bit longer with a shower, but what was the point? Not even standing beneath scalding hot water until it ran cold would wash her from his mind. Nothing seemed to do that. 

"Damn her. Damn her to Helveti."

***

"Damn him. Damn that man to Helveti," Kirsty cursed. Could Sven have thought of anything more embarrassing and demeaning? Kneeling on the floor, her naked bum and freshly shaven cunt in the air, her arms extended in front of her, her chest and face pressed against the hard floor for so damned long that the wood was no longer even cold, heated by her body. 

If that was not bad enough, the butt plug would clearly be the first thing he noticed when he opened the door to her bedroom...if he opened the door. She was beginning to believe he was not coming at all. Five more minutes, she promised herself. No more than that. Then she realized, she had no idea what time it was. How long she had truly been kneeling like this. Or how long five minutes was at this point. 

But she was not going to let that stop her. Not now. 'One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand...' She tried to focus upon her counting and not how incredibly naked and open she felt at that moment. How vulnerable. 

She bit her lower lip and fought back tears as she continued to count. She considered what to do next? She wanted to be held, comforted, and told that everything would work out. The obvious choice for that one was Mikael. He alone seemed an ally in this war for his brother's heart. From the shocked and almost angry look on Bjorn's face when she choose Sven, she knew she would get no sympathy there, not the kind she needed anyway. 

There was only one problem with her plan...she still did not which of the bedrooms were which. What if she knocked on the wrong door? Damn it, why had she not thought to go exploring behind the closed wooden doors while they were away. 

She had covered most of the Holding. Well, maybe not most. Their island home was way larger than she had thought, even with the four-wheeler. But so far she had climbed half way up the rocky face of the mountain that rose hundreds of feet in the air behind the cabins. She had spent hours laying on her back in the rolling field of browning grass that in the spring would bloom like a rainbow with Petrine's wildflowers. She had even dipped her toes in the icy spring that ran through it. Of course, she had found her way back to the small forest and the fort where she and Bjorn had made love among the storm that afternoon. 

For a city girl, it might seem strange but the truth was that she felt as connected somehow to the majestic, beauty of this place as she did the men, who called it home. The woman who was becoming the mother she had always dreamt of having. And the child that though she had not grown in her body was growing in her heart. She had never felt so at peace, so complete. She knew that she could be happy here, if only...

"Flenk Pia," his voice was as rough as his hands as they caressed across the curve of her round 

bottom. 

It took her a moment to figure out what he was saying, though she had learned both words, she had not heard them together. When she did realize though, she smiled. Was it possible that those words were even sexier in the local dialect of Norwegian than they were in English? Did it matter? She would take her 'good girls' when and where she could get them, in any of the half dozen or more languages that her guys spoke. "Takk herre," she whispered, "Thank you, Sir."

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his fingers run slowly from the top of her bottom down between her legs. She inhaled sharply when his thumb circled her clitoris. Had it been hard all long or merely at those words? She whimpered when he stopped, biting her lip to keep from begging. She had not realized just how incredibly horny she was until this moment. 

Not that she had not followed all the other kinky instructions that Mikael and Bjorn fed her each night. She had discovered that the toy box in her bedroom contained as many sex toys as it did implements of pain. Each night their conversations had ended with another challenge...what toy, what to do with it even what to think about while she did. No, she had not gone a single night without an orgasm. But masturbation, even when they directed it, just was not the same.

Definitely not the same as she could not stifle her cries when Sven's fingers slipped into her wet cunt. Neither could she stop the single word..."More." If that was not good enough she added, "Meir," in his own tongue. 

His only response was a sound slap to her right butt cheek, "You will come when I want you to come, Kirsten." 

Kirsty wanted to fight, wanted to tell him to 'go fuck himself' again, but she reminded herself that what had gotten through to Mikael in the end was her submission, her surrender. That was why she had decided to use it with him too. Especially her über Dom, for whom submission and high protocol meant so much. 

So why the hell did he of all of them bring out her brat? Why was it that she, who had always done what was expected, what others wanted, why was it that she wanted to disobey him so damned much? Hell, she would have never thought there was a brat in her at all...except with him. Sven of all people. 

But she fought all of that back. She forced herself back to the path she had chosen...submission. Being his good girl. The best sub he had ever had. Surely if she became that, then he would have to love her. If it had not worked with her own mother...well, she had to believe it would with him. "Ja herre," she replied as she forced her body to relax when everything inside of her screamed 'fight.'

"Is this," his fingers pressed against the curved end of the butt plug that protruded from her sphincter forcing it deeper until she flinched, "the next one?"

"Ja herre," she kept her response simple. 

He pushed against it once more. It was the first time that she had used the wider and slightly longer plug and just as it had those first couple of times with the smaller one this one felt uncomfortably tight. Not painful as such, but right on the edge. And when he did that, it almost crossed the line. Still she forced herself to relax, willed her body to open for him. 

She wondered...how far would he take it this tonight? How far did she want him to? Because even with the discomfort, pain and yes, fear, she also could feel her juices dripping down between her legs, coating her hard clitoris in slippery heat and even beginning to pool on the floor. Did she want this? Want more? To feel more than just the cool silicone in her virgin ass? Was she ready for his cock? Hell, did that even matter? 

***

Damn the woman. Why did she alone seem to test his control? Domination and submission had always been his release valve, how he de-stressed. Perfect control over his submissive always calmed and soothed him no matter what had happened. So why was it that her submission had the opposite effect? Why did it loose something wild inside of him, test the limits of his control and make him want to break her in a way he never had any other sub? 

The fact that she answered him in Norwegian should have pleased him especially. His mother had made certain he learned English. By necessity, he had taught himself German, Russian and French as well as a smattering of Spanish, Italian and Greek. But he was never as comfortable or as confident speaking any of them as his brothers, especially Bjorn for whom English was as natural or more so than Norwegian. The fact that she was trying to learn their language meant that she wanted to fit in, yes? So why did that not reassure him? 

Though she could not see it, he shook his head as he tried to figure it out. Figure her out. Plan a course of action. For the man, that spent days planning the perfect scene, she was a complete anathema. He chuckled quietly to himself as he realized that not once had he truly been the one in control with her. She was his chaos. 

Why change that now? His fingers clasped the curved end of the silicon, "Exhale slowly, Kirsten," he commanded. He listened and applied slow steady pressure as he gently pulled the teardrop shaped plug from her ass. "Så jæv pia," as he watched her virgin hole close quickly. "Such a good girl," he translated, uncertain still just how much of his language she comprehended.

He reached for the bottle of oil, which was exactly where he had told her to put it. As was the rope and the five headed Wartenberg pinwheel. Damn her, she had followed his instructions to the letter. Why did that irritate more than please him? 

He poured a generous amount of the lube at the top of her crack and watched it sliding down. He used his fingers to scope it back towards her tight ass. He thrilled at the quick intake of breath as they brushed her clit. He considered giving her a quick release, something told him it would not take more than a couple of strokes to send her over the edge. But right now, he wanted all of her attention centered where his was...her virgin asshole. 

He began the same erotic dance they had performed that first night he introduced the plugs, except this time he could easily begin with two fingers as he stretched her open once more. He did that for a couple of minutes, moving his fingers gently in and out. 

Last time he had distracted her with dirty talk and playing with her sweet cunt, but not this time. This time the only stimulation he allowed was anal play. He wanted, no, he needed her to feel it all. There would be time, all night, for all the other. Right now, there was only one thing that mattered, one thought in his mind...burying his cock in her ass and claiming what was fucking his. 

He rubbed his other hand across the cheek of her ass as he bent forward, the weight of his body pressing her down further as his tongue licked the rim of her ear. "I am going to fuck your ass, Kirsten," he felt her body tense and heard the quick intake of her breath. For a moment he thought of his little Valkyrie standing toe-to-toe with him on the deck of his ship, challenging him in front of all of them. He was certain that he was about to face her once more. 

Then he felt her body relax beneath his, her head nod as much as it could, pressed as it was against the hard floor, "Jæv." If her 'please' answer surprised him, what she said next floored him, "Vær så jæv, herre." As she pleaded with him in the old dialect. 

It was every fantasy he had ever had brought to life. Her complete submission, though he knew that this had not made her fetish list, that it even frightened her a bit. Still she had met his challenge, true submission. Not about what she wanted, but about obedience, what he wanted. 

So why the fuck did that anger him so? Make him want to push her boundaries even further. Until she broke. Until his shieldmaiden challenged him once more. It was so unlike anything he had ever experienced in these games. But with her...

'Damn her to Helveti,' he thought as his fingers bit into the soft flesh of her ass as the ones on his other hand slipped from the too tight channel of her sphincter. He picked up the bottle of oil and poured even more along the throbbing hard ridge of his cock. He gritted his teeth as his own hand moved up and down its full length, spreading the lube. Damn, she had him on the edge already. That might not be a bad thing though, her virgin ass could not handle a prolonged fucking...not this first time. 

"Jæv? Please, Kirsten? You are sure, my sweet wife?" He held his cock and pressed the head against her asshole. He smiled as she tensed involuntarily at the unfamiliar invader, but he did not back off. It was long past that. He was done with games. She was his wife too. And she was about to learn what that meant as he pushed the head of his erection through the resistant ring. He bit back a moan of pleasure at the way her sweet ass enveloped his hard cock.

He knew how this should go. How many subs had he introduced to anal play? He had long since lost count of the number of anal cherries he had taken, wives who would so fucking easily give to him what they had denied their husbands for years. Wives? Not his fucking wife though as he did the one thing he knew better than to do then, pressing half of his cock deep inside of her before she even had the chance to adjust to this new sensation. 

He felt her tighten even more, but rather than soothe her with calm words of encouragement, he forged ahead until his cock was fully buried inside her no longer virgin ass. Only then did he stop, then only long enough to bury his head in her shoulders and bite down hard on that sensitive spot where it met her neck. His hands on her hips and his teeth buried deeply in her neck as he began to pull out, almost completely before pushing back in quickly and fully. 

He was damned glad that he had used so much lube and that she had obeyed his command to use the butt plug. If not, he knew this loss of control would do damage. As it was, he felt her tense beneath him, try to move away from his deep thrusts. He was having none of it, not this time. He reached up and wrapped his hand through her hair, pulling her head back in the process. "Min," he growled into her ear.

Even that though was not sufficient. "Du tilhøre mæ," he increased the pace as he pounded away at her ass. His teeth released their hold on her neck, only to sink into the tender flesh of her ear lobe as he added in English, "You belong to me."

He heard her sharp intake of breath at the words, felt her shudder beneath him. He was not finished yet as the hand that had remained on her hips slipped around to find the slick folds of her cunt. His fingers circled the swollen flesh at the apex, as he repeated his claim in his tongue and hers like a mantra that kept perfect time with the thrusting of his cock inside her too tight ass. 

He gritted his teeth and fought the inevitable as he felt her sweet ass tighten even more around his throbbing cock as her orgasm hit them both full force. He thrust quicker and more shallow as he felt his own release taking him. He cried out, "Min," as he emptied himself inside of her until his whole body and soul was drained and he collapsed on top of her. 

He closed his eyes and buried his face between her shoulders. He knew he should apologize. He had lost control. Again. The Dom, who prided himself on always being in control, especially of himself, seemed to have none when it came to her. His wife. And that bothered him more than anything. 'Damn her to Helveti.'

***

'Damn him,' she thought as she fought back tears. It was not the rough way that he had taken her that bothered her. No, as Mikael had taught her, she was a pain slut. Damn the man, it had been the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. She might have been able to handle that even, but what she could never manage was how fucking easily this man turned her own body against her. It was the power of her own orgasm that rocked her. Sven made her feel and want things that she did not, could not, with either Bjorn or Mikael. 

That too she might have been able to handle, if... If the man gave a damned about her as something other than a piece of property and fucking incubator for his son. But he did not. All his protestations about 'mine' were more about asserting his rights as the eldest than actually wanting her as a woman, as his wife. No, this man would never allow himself to do something as simple as open up to her...love her. 

Instead he wanted simply to own and possess. To use. And that left her feeling dirty...like nothing more than his whore. That was what had her in tears...not the pain that even now was adding a delicious spice to the aftershocks that continued to pulse periodically through her. 

She was grateful that he had taken her from behind, this way he could not see the tears that had slipped down her cheeks to saturate the wood floor. They all said that she could hide nothing from them. She was glad too that he could not see the pain, emotional pain of being used that she felt then.

"Æ e lei mæ," he breathed across the bare skin of her shoulders. She shivered as she had that first day just at the sexy sound of his voice. His. 

That was the problem. He was the one she had fallen for first. Almost loved even before she had met him. It was his touch on her elbow that even through the thick layers of her coat and jumper had sent her pulse racing and made her go weak in the knees. He liked to boast that ultimately she had been his choice, he had claimed her first. And he had. Claimed her heart even before she knew of Bjorn or Mikael. It was Sven.

She fought back tears as his rough hands ran along her arms whether to comfort her or to return the blood flow from her prolonged prone position. Why did he have to do the 'caring' Dom thing now? When she wanted nothing more than to hate him. Did he know that her defences were at their lowest? 

She swallowed back the bitter taste in her mouth. She had been so sure that her submission, her perfect obedience, could reach him. But once more she had not been a good enough girl. And she hated herself even more that his gentle touch now was re-igniting fires that should have been extinguished by the almost cruel way he had taken her. 

Taken. That was all he did. Perhaps all he was capable of. And Kirsty was not sure that even she was altruistic enough to give that much. Not even to a man she loved. And she did love him as much as she might wish otherwise, she loved him just as much as his brothers. Which left her where? 

Especially as his lips began to trail light kisses across her back and shoulders, which had her nipples painfully hard against the wood floor. Even now she could not stop her body from reacting to his touch, be it rough or gentle. And when his hands slipped around her to stroke and caress her breasts, her body ignored her brains reluctance as a whimper slipped from her throat.

Even that was nothing though as one hand trailed lower along her side until it wrapped about her hips and slipped between her legs. The pad of his thumb found her clitoris that was still slick with her juices and the oil. It was also hard and throbbing in perfect timing with her too fast heart. He had barely touched her, only a couple of slow, light circles and her whole body exploded in a powerful orgasm.

She cried out at the strength of her release, but still it was not enough. Even though his cock in her ass remained hard as he rocked gently within her then, she felt empty. Then just as she felt her orgasm begin to abate, his fingers slipped lower. Into her soaking wet cunt. This time she feared that even the sound proofing of this room would not be enough as he found her g-spot sending her careening at the speed of light into the white hot blaze of the brightest stars. 

And he held her there, milked her body for every single ounce of it until he was actually forcing her orgasms, until she was so sensitive that this too was painful. "No more, please," she begged as she felt sweat dripping down her face. "Please, Sven. No more, please, Sir."

He gave one final plunge of his fingers as deep as he could within her. She caught her breath at the intense sensation of being stuffed, his cock in her ass and she would have sworn his whole damned fist in her pussy. "One day, Kirsten. One day it will be my cock that fills your sweet ass as my brother fucks your pussy. You will be even fuller then than you are now. Trapped between our bodies. Helpless. Completely ours. That is what you are meant for. What you want, is it not?"




Ægir's Wife Ch. 01



His words that should have thrilled her instead disgusted her, but still she could not deny her body's reaction to the erotic picture he painted. She closed her eyes tight to hold back the tears of self-loathing. What was wrong with her? Why could she not control her need with him? Knowing that he did not feel the same way towards her that she felt for him. The love that she shared with his brothers. That he might never. Still she could not deny him anything?

She felt his weight that had crushed her against the floor shift, then he slipped from her body. She cursed at how empty she felt. Empty. Void. Like nothing. No one. 

Then she felt the soft, coolness of the washcloth as he cleansed her beginning at her shoulders and back where their sweat combined. She sighed as he stopped to rinse the cloth in the bowl of warm water that she had prepared earlier, another of his instructions. Though she had altered them slightly, adding just a touch of his wash so that the water was scented as well as soothing. 

She wanted to cry again at how gentle he was as he washed her tender ass. If that was not bad enough, when he was finished he bent and softly kissed each of the cheeks of her ass. He placed another tender kiss at the small of her spine as he whispered, "Så go ei pia." 

She searched her memory for a translation, but sometimes she felt that she was fighting a losing battle in her efforts to learn the language. Sven especially seemed to prefer the local dialect that could be so different from the Norwegian that she was studying through an app on her tablet. With this one, she caught enough to know it was some form of 'good girl.' "Takk herre," she answered with her limited knowledge of the local language that she had managed to pick up from Olaf and Petrine. 

His hand on her shoulder lifted her and turned her to face him. He brought her hand to his lips and brushed a gentle kiss across her knuckles, once more the perfectly considerate Dom. His eyes were the most intense blue as he studied her face for a long moment as if considering what to say then. For a split second she would have almost sworn she saw a glimpse of true tenderness in them, rather than the icy cold of the sea that they mimicked. 

Then he dropped them, looking away from her face. His face scrunched into a dark scowl then as he dropped her hand. His finger traced over the faint white mark on the swell of her left breast. Mikael's mark had healed quickly and completely. 

"Ka i hælvette?" he growled as his other hand gripped her upper arm so tightly that it was painful, that he might even leave bruises. 

She shook her head, not understanding anything he said other than 'Helveti' or simply hell. "I don't understand," she whispered as much at the sudden change in him as at what he said.

***

Sven glared at her as he felt the anger rolling like waves in a storm. She was not the one he was angry with...not really. But she was the one there. For the moment anyway. "What the hell? It means what the hell. Specifically, what the hell is this?" he demanded as his finger traced the offensive mark once more.

She smiled. And he changed his assessment of the situation instantly, hell, yes, he was angry with her too. Mikael would have never dared such a thing without consent. Problem was as 'their' wife his brother had failed to get consent from everyone involved. He inhaled deeply and reminded himself to remain calm, not that he had had much luck with that at all this night. Not the way he had promised himself he would with her. "I asked a question, wife. What is this?" he shook her what he would consider gently, just to snap her out of whatever silly daydreams woman had.

Her face darkened. He watched as the sweet sub disappeared and his warrior wife returned. He prepared for another 'go fuck yourself,' but this time he was determined to get the answers he wanted. He gripped both of her upper arms and shook her more solidly. "Do you not understand, Kirsten? Ka i hælvette? What the hell? What the fuck? What is this? Do you need French, German and Russian too for good measure? Because I promise you, dear wife, I will get my answer."

He lowered his face towards hers until they were nose to nose, "Then I will punish your ass and kick my brother's."

Why did she have to look so incredibly cute with her face scrunched up like that? But this time he was not going to be swayed as he stared her down and waited for an explanation. They remained like that, a childish game of chicken to see who would look away first, for several long moments. Then he gripped her arms more tightly and stood up, dragging her with him. He slowed down only long enough to grab the towel off the floor and wrap it about his waist. 

"What are you doing, Sven?" she demanded as she tried to cross her free arm over her tits and down between her legs at the same time, but only a gorilla's arms would be long enough for that and their wife might be a fool but she was no monkey. He said nothing as he threw open the door and dragged her out even when she tried to dig her heels in.

"What do you think you are doing? Let me get dressed. Damn you," she cursed.

He shook his head as he ignored her protests and pulled her further out the door. He turned left and used whatever force was necessary to drag her after him. It was not like the bruises on her upper arms would be the only ones he had ever given her. And right now, she should be damned grateful it was not that long, soft red hair that he was using to drag her with. 

Besides it was only a few feet down the hall, past his own bedroom to his brother's. He pounded loudly on it, "Din satans hæstkuk!" he screamed through the door, not giving a damn that he had just called his brother a devilish horse cock almost loud enough to be heard in the village. He heard a shout through the door, but was not certain what Mikael said or even what language he used. 

It was Bjorn's door though that opened first. His baby brother looked almost as shitty as he felt just then. He was still wearing his clothes, though they were wrinkled and his feet was bare. His long hair looked tangled as if he had been running his fingers through it like he did when he was thinking. 

"What the fuck, man?" he demanded in English, whether for her benefit or because his little brother had always been more comfortable with English. Another thing to thank their sainted mother for. 

Sven was just about to explain...if it could be called that, when Mikael's door opened and his brother filled the door way clad in his jeans only. "Hva I helvete?" he asked in traditional Norwegian.

"Ja, ka i hælvette. What the hell is that?" he demanded pointing to the silvery white letter 'M' that marred Kirsty's tit. 

Mikael sighed and his shoulders slumped, "Æ e lei mæ," he mumbled.

Even Bjorn glared at Mikael as he too saw his brother's mark on her body for the first time. "What the hell were you thinking? Okay, I never got it, but knife play is your thing. But this? Damn it, Mikael. How could you? Without even fucking asking us?"

Kirsty squared her shoulders and for the first time dropped her arms, "Asking you? Why the hell should he have to ask either of you? It is my god damned body and he had my consent."

Sven could no longer trust himself not to throttle her so he shoved her at his baby brother, "You deal with your wife. This is between me and Mikael now."

Bjorn reached for Kirsty and it was a good thing, otherwise she might have stumbled and fallen so hard had he pushed her. 

"Damn straight this is between us, big brother. I said I was sorry. I should have thought it through more before doing something so permanent. I made a mistake. I admit that. But that is no excuse for how you are treating her. Then again you always treat her like a piece of meat, don't you?" Mikael stood toe to toe with him. 

"Makes it easier to deny how you really feel for her. Or maybe I am wrong about that. Maybe you don't give a gods be damned more about her than you do any of the rest of us. Just servants, vessels to be used, like Ægir's Captive. Well, here is some news for you. Bjorn and I might take your shit, but we are not about to let you treat her like that."

Sven blanched at his brother's accusation, but he was not to be deterred. He was not the one, who had done anything wrong here. Maybe he could have or should have been gentler with her, but that was beside the point. He had done nothing that left permanent damage. 

Bjorn nodded his head in ascent with Mikael as he shrugged out of his shirt and wrapped it about their naked and shivering wife, "He's right on that one, Sven. Be mad at Mikael, I am. But leave her out of this. She did nothing wrong."

"Dokker e nokken førbanna tøffelhælta," he replied to Bjorn.

"Fine, you made your point before, big brother. Slipper heroes. Pussy whipped. Whatever you choose to call us, but we mean it. No more. If you cannot treat Kirsty with the respect that she deserves as our wife, then stay the fuck away from her," Bjorn said as he drew her against his body and used his thumb to wipe away tears that were gathering in the corner of her eyes.

"As for me, I said I was sorry. There is not much more that I can do about it now. But honestly, neither of the two of you have that much room to talk. You, Sven, with your obsession about breeding her like some damned livestock," Mikael accused him. 

Then turning to their younger brother, "And Bjorn, did you fucking think for a moment how messing in her head with that orgasm conditioning shit might affect us? I mean what if somehow or the other, it all got screwed up and she could only come on your command. Where the fuck would that leave me and Sven?" Mikael asked.

Bjorn nodded, "Touché, dear brother. Though that does not seem to be a problem since it is the words and not the man, who says them that seems to be the trigger."

Sven whirled on Bjorn, "Trigger? Orgasm conditioning? Is he fucking talking about what I think he is, baby brother?" Bjorn blushed as he nodded his head and looked down. "What the fuck were you thinking? That is serious stuff, even experienced Doms don't dare go screwing in someone's mind lightly."

"Experienced Doms? And what makes you such a fucking expert, dear brother? A string of married whores that none lasted more than six months? Since when did you make a fucking commitment to anyone?" Bjorn turned on him, "So don't go giving me advice on being a Master. I might not have dozens of women under my Dom belt, but that is for one simple reason...I take it seriously." 

"I may have only topped in clubs a few times, but that was because I chose to wait for something worth having. Wait for a woman that I loved...and was committed to. So you are the last person on this planet that I want advice on how to care for what's mine from. Cause nothing and no one has ever been yours." 

"So if you will excuse us, I will go and do that now...take care of what's mine," he drew her closer and kissed the top of her head before turning to Mikael. "When you are through with him, join us if you want. Assuming that either of you can still move after what I fear is to come."

***

Sven felt the cold wetness of the mud seeping into his bones, a couple of his ribs in particular that were likely broken. His brother had given as good as he got. As family tradition dictated after Bjorn had taken a visibly shaken and still angry wife back into her room, he and Mikael had both dressed and agreed to meet in the 'fighting' fields as only the males in the family dared to call his mother's beloved wild flower patch at the far back of the property. Not even the fifteen minute ride on the four-wheelers had managed to cool either of their tempers. 

They had gone at it the moment they got there. The Northern Lights, which they had grown up with and long since taken their beauty for granted, proved more than sufficient lumination for their tussle. Though Sven doubted that many boxing champions had fought as long or as hard as they had. Fought until both were bloody, bruised and broken. Fought until they both collapsed in the mud that bordered the small stream that cut through the field and separated the Holding from their neighbor's property at this point. 

"He's right about that too you know," Mikael's voice broke the night that was eerily silent as winter ones often were without even the occasional hoot of birds of prey. 

"Right about what?" Sven tried to lift himself up using his elbows but quickly collapsed back into the oozing brown sludge when the pain in his side proved too much for him to endure without fainting. 

"If you cannot treat her with respect then it is best if you stay the fuck away from her...until you can," his younger brother managed somehow to raise himself into a sitting position. 

Sven considered Mikael's words. Maybe they were right. Maybe he just was not cut out for this marriage thing. If his brothers were to be believed for any type of human relationship, even family. He felt the sharp shooting pain across his chest, but was glad to blame it on the broken ribs. He nodded his head slowly as he heard another vehicle approaching. 

"Ja, agreed," was all he said as his uncle drew the other four wheeler to a stop a few feet away.

"You two feel better now? Get anything settled?" Olaf asked as he held out his hand and helped the mud monster that was his son to his feet.

It was Mikael, who turned and held out his hand to him. He braced his other arm about his chest and he reached for his brother's hand, "Ja, they can have her," he said with guttural curse as he fought back nausea and dizziness from the pain.

His uncle shook his white-grey head slowly, "You sure that is what you truly want, son?" Olaf asked as he too reached out to try and help steady Sven as he got to his feet.

"I am not your son, old man. I am no one's son," Sven shook the man's hand off as he pushed Mikael aside too. Though he was not sure if he could make it as far as the ATV, he was determined to try. He managed to make it though, by sheer will. 

"Du kainn sjite i deinn eine nævven og ønske i deinn aindre, og så kainn du se kaslags nævve du får mæst I," he heard his uncle say.

Sven smiled, he wanted to laugh at his uncle's words, 'You can shit in one hand and wish in the other and see which you get most in.' Another of the colourful local sayings that just about summarized his life. He revved the engine and took off across the field too quickly. He paid for it with another sharp shooting pain in his chest, but he supposed he should be thankful at least the broken ribs had not punctured a lung. 

Yeah, maybe this was for the best, even if it would be living hell watching them, the two of them, his younger brothers, touch and love her. The woman that should have been his too. He thought about the sons he would never have with her. Maybe that was for the best too. He knew all too well what it felt like to grow up without a father. No, this was for the best. He would love and groom whatever nephews she gave him, just as he did his niece. 

And her? How long would it take to forget how sweet her cunt tasted? How tight her ass had been? How perfectly she had assumed the submissive pose even from that first time? He had never felt more a Dom, more a man than he did when she knelt before him. But that too was over. He would find a way to live with it. 

He turned the vehicle towards the boat. Yes, moving onto Ægir's Captive would be a good first step. Give him...and them a bit of space. Of course, it was the lucrative winter fishing season now so they would all be on the ship more than in her bed. Not that the thought made him glad or anything.

***

Thanks to all those who have written asking (begging? pleading?) for more. Sorry it took so long but I have been working on a novella based loosely upon Joy through the Tears for an anthology I am doing with some other awesome Lit writers.

And on the long awaited Labor's End...the second book in the Sergeant Mike novella series. I am still working on that one...so bad news to follow the good...it may be a couple more weeks until Chapter 2 of this story. But as a tease...Bjorn and Mikael have planned a VERY special Christmas present for Kirsty.

Oh and you may notice a few changes with this story from Ægir's Captive and Bride. I have a Norwegian friend who is helping me with the translation...and he convinced me to change to the setting to this rustic, isolated and abso-fucking-lutely perfect region in Northern Norway called Lofoten (search the web for pics...it is amazing). The best part is not only are there almost no cops so these guys can get away with kidnapping their brides...but they have the most wonderful sayings. Slipper heroes? Devilish horse cocks? Come on...how perfect is that. So a huge thank you to the real Bjorn for his translations and interesting insights into local culture and lore! 

Enjoy!



Ægir's Wife Ch. 02



Kirsty stared around the room. The Christmas tree that was a safe distance from the roaring fireplace had turned out magnificent in the end. Petrine had insisted that they all help decorate it on Thanksgiving. That had come as a bit of a surprise to Kirsty, but it seemed that her mother retained far more than simply her accent. She kept several of her American traditions as well. 

So Olaf and Mikael had taken a delighted Monika out to back of the property to cut down the 'perfect' tree as she and Petrine had finished off preparations for Thanksgiving dinner, including turkey and pumpkin pie, something that Kirsty had never tasted before. It turned out to be delicious, especially with vanilla ice cream. Then they had all retired with stuffed tummies to the living room to watch 'It's a Wonderful Life,' another new experience for Kirsty. 

Of course, decorating the tree had been the pièce de résistance. Petrine had served hot chocolate and homemade Christmas cookies as they all tried valiantly to cover bare patches in the less than 'perfect' tree that her granddaughter had chosen. She said that it reminded her of a Charlie Brown Christmas special. 

When Kirsty asked who Charlie Brown was, her words cut to the core, "Oh, my poor baby girl, you have led such a deprived life. No Thanksgiving, no pumpkin pie and your movie and television tastes are seriously lacking." As she did a couple of times a day, Petrine wrapped her arms about her and drew her into a maternal embrace, "Don't worry though. I'll take care of all that now."

Kirsty had fought back tears then. If the woman only knew how truly deprived her childhood had been. Even just those hugs were something that she had craved for as long as she could remember. If this place brought peace to her mind, centered her and called to her as the city never had, if the love she had found in Bjorn's and Mikael's arms had made her feel cherished, protected and complete as she never imagined possible, if Monika re-ignited her passions for the job that had become routine, it was the older woman's love and acceptance that was the glue that held it all together.

Well, almost all of it. Kirsty looked across the room, where he knelt poking the fire until a log crumbled and sent sparks racing up the chimney. She shook her head. Weeks, over a month, and still he had spoken barely two dozen words to her. Though to be fair, he barely spoke to his brothers either, especially Mikael. 

She had wanted to beat him herself when Mikael had finally made it back that night. His eye was a nasty purple and so swollen that she feared it would close shut. His lip was almost as bad and bleeding too. She had insisted on helping him into the shower and washing layers and layers of mud from his body. Of course, she had lectured him about the futility of violence the whole time. 

She had another long speech prepared for when she saw Sven the next day too, but she did not see him for days. And when she did, she had fought every instinct inside of her not to run to him and nurse his wounds as well. It seemed that her 'defender' had given as good as he got that night. In the end, she had stamped her less than dainty size seven boots and thrown up her hands and exclaimed, "Men." Petrine had merely laughed then and replied, "Boys, my dear."

Since that night, Sven had taken to sleeping on the boat. More nights than not he did not even take his meals with them. But this night was different. His mother had insisted, she would not have her family fractured on Christmas. So come noon, she had grabbed Kirsty and Monika by the hands and dragged them to the boat. With her hands on her hips, she had faced down her oldest son, speaking in Norwegian so rapidly that Kirsty had no chance of even picking out more than a word or two here and there. Of course, the older woman had won that battle as all three of her sons abandoned their work and joined the family festivities as was tradition.

For the woman, who had spent more than one holiday alone with the foreign students at her boarding school as her parents worked extra shifts at the hospital, it was everything she had imagined Christmas to be. Right down to a visit from Father Christmas or Olaf's best imitation of the man anyway. Besides Sven's recalcitrant attitude, the only slight hiccup had been when Petrine served dinner. 

Stinky fish jelly was the traditional main course it seemed. Lutefisk...was an acquired taste Bjorn had explained with a devious grin as he brought a fork full of the abhorrent stuff to her lips. The only positive about that experience was one of those exceedingly rare laughs from Sven...even he had found it impossible to frown through her discomfort as his mother batted the next forkful away and handed Kirsty a plate with turkey, ham and roast beef instead.

The rest of the meal had gone well up until dessert anyway. Petrine had thoughtfully included a sticky toffee pudding among the selection as Kirsty's contribution to their eclectic pish-posh of cultures. It had not been to Mikael's taste as he spit it out with a grimace, "You have no room to talk about lutefisk, lilla gumman, if this is your British idea of dessert." They had all laughed as his mother took it away and replaced it with a large slice of black forest gateau. 

After dessert it had been time to open the presents. Kirsty had been incredibly nervous then. She truly had not known what to get them. Well, Monika was easy. She had ordered a puppet to use in their therapy, perhaps coax her daughter to speak more. Olaf too had been easy; she had simply doubled the order of her father's favorite pipe tobacco. 

Petrine had been a bit more challenging though. Kirsty had spent days trying to figure out what to get her new mother for Christmas. The traditional jumper that she always bought for Nancy Dickens seemed too impersonal somehow. In the end, she had gotten Bjorn's help on one of their more frequent fishing trips. He had taken a small trip into London to visit a special garden shop for a Princess Diana rose bush. It was one variety that she had not seen in the greenhouse. 

Of course, by far, they were the hardest to get for. In the end, she had given up 'buying' them anything. Instead she had made their Christmas presents. Scarves...that matched their eyes. She had ordered skeins of yarn online and spent the days and especially those lonely nights in that austere bed knitting them. Steel grey, alternating with molten silver and a softer grey-blue for Mikael. A deep Kelly green for Bjorn. She had debated his until the last minute, barely finishing it in time on their very last fishing trip. Like Mikael's, it was stripped. Alternating deep blue with the lighter hues of the sky on a warm spring day. 

She had bitten her lip and studied them nervously as they opened their presents. Both Bjorn and Mikael had been delighted, immediately wrapping them about their necks even though it was much too warm with the fire blazing. Sven had merely smiled tightly as he caressed it, his brows furrowed as he spoke, "Thank you, Kirsten."

Kirsten, it was the first time since that night that he had called her by the pet name. She had smiled as she began opening her presents too. Petrine and Olaf had gotten her a book of local folklore that she had noticed in the store on the one trip they had convinced her to join them. Mikael had touched her with a tea cup, a real tea cup, not a mug. What made it even more special was the photograph of Monika on both sides. She had squealed in delight and hugged him tightly. Bjorn had leaned in and whispered, "You have to open mine in private, sweetheart." Her nipples had hardened and she was sure from the way that Mikael chuckled and shook his head that she must have blushed.

But by far the most shocking one was the package wrapped in red and gold paper from Sven. She had not thought he would get her anything at all, given how strained things were between them. So she was even more shocked to discover the latest model of tablet. Both Bjorn and Mikael had frowned at the extravagance for what was supposed to be 'simple' gifts. She had not known what to say or do. If it had come from Bjorn or Mikael, even Petrine, she would have jumped up and wrapped them in a tight embrace, but she could not do that with him. Instead she had mimicked his response to her gift, a simple smile and "Thank you" would have to do.

The night had ended with carolling around the tree before she and Mikael had carried an exhausted Monika up the stairs. There would be no time for bath this night. The child was simple too exhausted for such a thing. 

As they closed the door, Mikael had settled the one question that had plagued her all day as he bent and kissed her lips, "Time for me to play Santa, Father Christmas, I think you call him."

"Want my help?" she asked.

He shook his head, "No, elskling, I think that you have one more Christmas present to unwrap. In private." He swatted her bottom with a wink, "You better get a shower and shave extra close. You don't want to disappoint and get punished on Christmas, now do you?"

She sighed and nodded. She knew it made sense. Mikael would need to put Monika's bicycle and doll house together. And honestly, she should be grateful that this difficult decision was taken out of her hands. Still some part of her was deeply disappointed that she would not get to share this night with him. Of course, if she spent it with Mikael, then she would miss Bjorn just as much. Damn it, loving them both was getting more complicated all the time. 

Reluctantly, she stood on tip toes and brushed a kiss on his bearded cheek, "All right then, good night and happy Christmas, my love."

He winked, "Who knows, if you have been a good girl, Santa might leave something special for you too?"

Kirsty could not resist as she slipped from his embrace and casually tossed out, "Good girl? Or naughty one?" as she swayed her hips just a bit more as she made her escape into the bathroom. 

***

Mikael was still smiling at her saucy challenge as he joined the others downstairs. His mother was washing up as his father and Sven chatted by the fire. For once, his mother had relented and allowed them to smoke their pipes inside on this icy cold Christmas night. But it was his baby brother that he sought out, their shared conspiracy that both excited him and was more than a bit daunting. He was not sure he was ready for his brother's special Christmas present for their wife. Then again, he was not certain he ever would be. The idea of truly sharing her this night had been tying him in knots since Bjorn first suggested it weeks ago. 

He watched as Sven stood and made for the door, but as he suspected she might, their mother blocked his brother's path. Her hands planted firmly on her hips meant certain defeat for his brother. He sighed at this latest complication as he turned to join Bjorn by the tree where he was adding the pink streamers to the handlebars of the shiny new equally pink bicycle.

His younger brother laughed, "You know I was hoping for her sake that the first baby would be another little girl, but damn after all this pink, I think I can see big brother's fascination with boys."

It was the opening that Mikael had sought, "Speaking of Sven maybe we should invite him to..."

He did not even get to finish his thought before Bjorn shook his head and speared him with a look that said one more word would see them in the 'fighting' fields instead of sharing her bed together. "You of all people? Is the feeling back in your fingertips yet, Mikael?"

It was not the reminder he wanted of that other night. He flexed his left hand automatically. "Mostly," he replied as he tried again, "It just does not seem right. Not if he is going to be sleeping right next door in his room tonight."

Bjorn frowned as he looked across the room where their mother was clearly winning that argument with her son. He shook his head, "No, I am not having him ruin this night for her. He has chosen not to share her bed for weeks now. So why the hell should he join us tonight? Besides what makes you think she would want him there anyway?"

"It is not Kirsty that would not want him, baby brother. That woman is love and forgiveness personified. It is you. You don't want him there," he accused.

"Damn straight, I don't and if you keep up on this one you can sleep in your own room tonight too." Bjorn sighed and forced a smile, "Please, Mikael, you know how much I want this night to be perfect for her. You and I both know that choosing between us is getting harder and harder for her. Let's put our differences aside. Put the woman we love first. And show her that she does not always have to. Please?" Mikael nodded, "I know you are right, little brother." But that did not make it any easier.

Bjorn chuckled, "You think this is one bit easier for me, Mikael? You think I want to see the truly sadistic shit that I know you and her share? You know that is not my style. I much prefer my mind fucks side of things." He sighed as he pushed the bike under the tree, "But I know that our wife needs the pain you give her every bit as much as she needs the control I do. And I love her enough to try my damnedest to suspend my judgments for this one night. I thought you wanted the same?"

Mikael nodded slowly, "I do. At least in theory. How the hell that is going to work in reality is still anyone's guess."

His brother out and out laughed at that one, "Worse come to worse, at least I know what your weaknesses are in the 'fighting' fields."

Mikael flexed his left hand once more and laughed, "Gees, thanks. Just remember all the times I could have drowned you in the fjord when you were a snot nosed brat."

"Trust me, big brother, I never forget who always had my back as a kid. I am counting on those memories to help me control some of my jealousy tonight."

Mikael frowned, "You? Jealous of me? What? Why? She so fucking obviously loves you."

"Really? And the bond that the two of you share with my niece? How the fuck do I compete with the perfect little family routine?"

He shook his head at the revelation, "That's Monika, not me."

"Isn't it? Not only can you give her the pain, I can't, but trust me watching the two of you bath Monika is a new form of torture," his brother studied the floor.

Mikael laughed, "Then join us or take a turn, but be prepared my little girl gets you wetter than anything Ran, Njord or the worst storm can throw at you."

Bjorn smiled up at him, "Do you mean that, big brother?"

Mikael reached out and ruffled his brother's long hair. It was a gesture of affection that he had not done since the day he left that fretting and crying seven year old to join his brother, uncles and father at sea. After that, it simply seemed too childish, not in keeping with the tough fisherman he wanted so desperately to be. As he strived to emulate his big brother. "Yes, kiddo, I mean that."

When Bjorn smiled, it reminded him of that morning all those eons ago when he had taken the tyke out to see the shoddily thrown together fort that he had spent days building. The way his whole face lit up from the inside reminded him so fucking much of her. "I sent her to the shower already though. So you better go and get the room setup."

Bjorn smiled and nodded, "I did the hard part, but I left that damned pink dollhouse for you. Let's hope for lots of sons. I shuttered to think of Ægir's Captive painted pink if we don't."

Mikael laughed, "I'd be more worried about Kirsty and mother's gloating over an all-female crew."

Bjorn nodded as their older brother gave up and climbed the stairs to the room he had abandoned, "It might be worth it to see how big brother reacted."

"Yeah, well, if there is going to be any baby-making action this night, you have a special present to give our wife."

"And then another one to wrap up for us to share."

"Make the knots nice and tight. I will inspect them," Mikael teased as he turned his attention to the instructions for assembling the very pink Barbie dream house. "Sons might be nice after all," he chuckled as he set to the task at hand and tried very hard to be put his earlier concerns aside. 

He would find a way to overcome them, because the truth was that he loved not just his wife, but the little shit of a brother that had been his bane of existence and fan club from the time he took his first step...toddling after him. The little brother, whom he owed so much to, for bringing her into their lives. The man who was directly responsible for giving his daughter a new mother and him a wife with a heart big enough to love them both. 

He frowned...love them all. On this night above all others, it seemed impossible not to hold on to the flickering candle of hope that Sven too might eventually come around, open himself up to her and join the ranks of the 'Toffelhjälten.'

Not this night, though he had tried. Besides Bjorn was probably right. It would be hard enough sharing her with his little brother, he was most definitely not ready for that. Neither were his brothers nor his wife. But this night he had something else in mind...Chapter Ten of My Brother's Keeper had most definitely proven enlightening. To the point that it left him throbbing hard as he read it. Hell, just the thought of it now, had him wishing this damned doll house would put itself together so he could join them sooner.

***

Bjorn opened her bedroom door without knocking. She had called him so that was his right to come and go this night as his own room. Just as she was his. To do with as he pleased. He sucked in a deep breath at the sight of her kneeling on the floor next to the bed. She was perfection. Truly she was. He had waited his whole life for this woman and she was worth every fucking minute of it. 

Her long red hair was secured once more at the nape of her neck with a scrunchie so he could see her face, but not her eyes. Damn it. He loved her eyes. But she was being the perfect little sub...and she was that too. His chest swelled and his cock hardened in his jeans. 

Her submission always did that to him. Made him want to break her. Use her. Fuck her hard. Take her. Control that fucking beautiful mind. Master her completely...every bit of her. His. He smiled softly, of course, it also made him want to wrap her in his arms and hold her so tightly that she knew he would never let her go. Protect her from everyone and everything, even his own darkness, especially his darkness. Love and cherish her until the moment he drew his last breath at her side. He wanted it all...and she was the only woman that he had ever wanted that with. 

Which made this night all the more difficult. The thought of truly sharing her, of actually watching his brother touch her, seeing another man bring her pleasure...it was challenging. Probably unthinkable to most of society. But it was their way. It always had been. And as difficult as he and his brothers were finding it, some part of his mind recognized that it fit. That there were things she needed that he could not give her. Things that Mikael could not do for her that he could.

And what of him? His mind asked. But Sven was not something he wanted to think of at the moment. He had been shocked that Mikael would even suggest including him this night. The man had made his choice. He had shunned her and the light she brought them all. Not that happiness had ever been a high priority on Sven's list. 

But the way he had treated her, dragging her naked into the hall that night, like some whore on trial, stripped and standing accused of atrocities that were not hers alone. Oh, even he was still less than pleased when he saw that silvery letter M on her breast. But he had to grudgingly admit Mikael was right...none of them were doing a very good job of sharing their toy. 




Ægir's Wife Ch. 02



She was so much more than a mere toy though. She was their wife. Their future. The strand that would bind and fuse them together when most brothers drifted apart. He shook his head, if there had ever been any doubt, observing her now with her head down and her eyes hidden, watching those stunning tits rise and fall. 

Knowing that this was the ultimate sign of her submission. Not the kneeling but the nudity. No matter how much both he and Mikael tried to convince her, show her, tell her that her soft, womanly curves pleased them, still she saw her body through the eyes of the fucked up society in which they lived. A society that valued starving one's self to get into a size zero over a brilliant mind or a caring heart. 

Who knew maybe tonight...together...they could break through all that, show her just how much they both wanted her. Not that even that made the thought any easier for him. He still wanted to call it all off. Hell, shove that damned wardrobe in front of the fucking doors and block the whole world out. 

Lock the two of them in this room...alone. For the rest of their fucking lives. He chuckled at the thought...short though they may be. He doubted that they could live long simply on bodily fluids, but damn did the idea of drinking nothing but her sweet explosive cunt juices when she came, of her sucking his cock dry morning, noon and night. Well, it did have possibilities. 

But he had plans for this night. Correction...they had plans. He and Mikael had been working on this one for weeks. Since that first fishing trip. Right now, he needed to focus on those. Beginning with the small box wrapped in golden paper in his hand. 

He walked over behind her and ran his fingers just beneath that tight bun, entwining them in the thick hair closest to her scalp. He tilted her head back and smiled as her eyes locked with his, her mouth forming the perfect 'O.' Perfect for inserting his hard cock into, but he resisted that urge as he knelt just behind her. 

He feathered kisses across her bare shoulder, up to her neck and slowly back to her upper arm. He repeated the process, this time using his tongue to trace a winding pathway across her warm skin all the way to her ear this time. He suckled soft on her earlobe until he was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.

Still he was not finished toying with her. He nibbled at the lobe, tugging gently, before nipping and biting his way back down her neck. He loved the way she held her breath almost in anticipation when he reached that sweet spot where her neck and shoulder met. He smiled against her skin as he resisted the urge to mark her again in his favorite way.

Instead he continued on, back and forth, alternating feathery light kisses with sharp nips and wet trails of his tongue. He could feel her back against his chest, she was breathing more rapidly by the moment. Her scent enveloped him and drove him on as much as the soft whimpers and mewing from the back of her throat. Still he touched her nowhere else. Made no move to deepen their exchange. 

"Bjorn, please," she whimpered at last, her voice a deep and needy exclamation. 

He smiled as he pulled back and reached around her, placing the present on the floor between her knees. "Merry Christmas, my love."

***

The golden box in front of her was not what Kirsty wanted to unwrap. Her very delectable husband on the other hand offered much more interesting possibilities. He was clad in her personal preference...nothing but tight jeans that hugged his massive thighs and tight ass. Damn, she really needed to take a few photographs when he was not looking. The man belonged on one of Raquel Graffen's covers. 

Still it would be exceedingly rude of her not to open his present too. She picked up the box and was disappointed to note how light it was. Some part of her had desperately hoped for another flogger to join the sons of Odin. She had become addicted to his flogging skills, begging and pleading when necessary. 

She frowned as she thought of what else it might be. Obviously, it was something naughty if he wanted her to open it in private. She ran through a mental check list of items in the toy box, but it was well stocked. They made sure of that. Clamps. Clothes pins that Mikael could rip from her body with a single crack of the bull whip. Bjorn always made sure that the supply of rope and body oils never ran low either. So she truly could not imagine what was in the box, they had covered pretty much everything on her fetish list in the past two months...and then some. 

"Open it," it was not a question and lest she have any doubt the stinging smack to her right butt check punctuated her husband's annoyance at the moment.

Her fingers trembled as she untied the bow. She slid her nail carefully under the tape not wanting to tear the pretty paper. She and Monika could use it later on one of their art projects. She smiled at the plain brown box. She was getting used to those by now. But even then she was not prepared for what was nestled in the red tissue paper when she lifted the lid. 

The black supple leather hood had three shiny silver zippers on the front: two for the eyes and one larger one for the mouth. Another longer zipper ran up the back. Kirsty could not stop herself from shaking her head. While she and Bjorn had agreed weeks ago that there would be no safe words and no limits between them, if there were, this thing would make her hard limit list. She looked up at him. 

His smile never wavered as his hands began to caress the knots that she was not even aware were forming from her neck and shoulders. "Yes, I know, sweetheart. But sometimes trust means facing your fears." He bent and kissed her ear once more, whispering "You know I will be with you the whole time. I won't leave your side for a moment."

She inhaled, trying to draw reassurance from his words to quench the fires of fear raging in her tummy. He lifted it from the box, something she could not bring herself to do. He brought it to her cheek and rubbed it there sensuously. Kirsty had to admit the soft coolness and smell of the leather was a tiny bit arousing. If it had been cuffs or even a regular mask she could have definitely appreciated it. But this was a full blown, sadistic, nasty looking sensory deprivation mask. 

"Hlín," Bjorn whispered the Norse goddess of protection and consolation that had been her safe word in the beginning as they came to know one another and build the love and trust that made such things no longer necessary. In that moment she realized that it was not, but the fact that he offered meant so much to her.

She nodded her head, "Yes, Master." And the world went black as he placed it over her head. His fingers tugged at the bun, loosening it so that he could arrange her hair in a way that it would not get caught in the mask. 

She fought back fear in the dark world that consumed her. She tried to focus upon him. His touch. The warmth of his skin so close to hers. But it was not just the dark that assailed her. Sounds were muffled. Quiet boomed inside of her mind. She could no longer smell him, only the new leather of the mask. It was hot too, way too hot under the hood as her body shivered not from just the cool air but in growing panic.

By far the hardest part was struggling to breathe. Sure, she had felt his hand on her throat dozens of times, he had even held her under the water while he bathed her on a couple of occasions. But this was different. Even as close as his large body was to hers, she felt disconnected. Adrift. And intensely alone. Like the worst horror movie imaginable as the heroine was held in some dark, cold, damp cell to await her untimely demise. And no matter how hard her mind worked to remind her that this was Bjorn. Her husband. He would never ever never allow something to happen to her. That voice of dread and fear screamed louder and louder in her head. 

Kirsty was a heartbeat from crying out 'Hlín' though she feared even that would be futile if he could not hear her. Then she felt and sort of even heard the metal upon metal scraping as he unzipped the mouth. She sucked in a huge lungful of air. So much that she feared her chest would explode. 

Then she was drawn back against the comforting warmth and strength of his chest. She could barely register it, but she thought she heard the words..."Good girl."

Then they were moving. She realized then just how incapacitated she was as her head swam and spun as he drew her to her feet and pulled her somewhere. She felt the soft, firmness of her bed reach up to envelop her. She was still disoriented as she felt the ropes wrap about her wrist. They had become almost as familiar and comforting as the men who bound her with them. She gave into the feel of their embrace on her other wrist and then both ankles until she was bound spread eagle. It was an oddly soothing and reassuring sensation as the dark quiet of her new world continued to batter her mind. 

The logical side of her brain continued its war against the alarm that was increasing with each heartbeat. She did not want to disappoint him, to make him feel that she did not like his present. Kirsty laughed hysterically in her mind. 'You fucking don't,' that other part of her screamed out. 

But then there was something else to think about...more like feel...as his mouth captured her nipple and suckled it deep within the hot wetness of his mouth. She arched up off the mattress, offering herself more fully to him. 

She realized then the attraction of this fucking hood. In the dark, silence without even smell to offer her any warning all she could fucking do was feel. And she felt it all. Each soft nibble on her nipple, each firm tug deeper into his mouth. 

When she felt the hand move lower over her less than perfect tummy to her freshly shaven pussy, she trembled in anticipation. As the fingers sank deep within her folds she bowed to draw them deeper. She felt another hand knead and cup her other tit for a moment until that nipple too was painfully hard. 

Then the whole fucking universe exploded in another Big Bang as it too was drawn deep within a warm wet mouth. Her mind shattered as surely as her body did, clutching tightly around those fingers plunging into her wet depths. Another hand caressed across her stomach as two mouths continued to tug on her nipples and heavens only knew how many fingers or whose were between her legs. 

"Come for us, our sweet Freya," his voice demanded. She could almost feel his hot breath through the soft leather or she thought she could anyway. 

Once more her pelvis undulated against those thick digits filling her over and over again. She cried out and the sound echoed in her mind as she felt the gush of liquid burst from her body. 

"Yes, that's it, our beautiful whore wife. Squirt. Squirt hard. Wet the whole fucking bed with your cunt juices, lilla gumman," her bad boy ordered. Her mind and body was too far gone to do anything except obey. 

The orgasm stretched out for an eternity at the realization of a fantasy. Both of them. She had both the men she loved in her bed this night. Both of them touching and pleasing her body, using her. Giving and taking at the same time. It was perfection.

Well, almost...

***

Mikael leaned forward and searched for the zipper on the back of the hood. While he understood the almost necessity of the damned thing for this, he had never liked them, especially since with the fucking thing over her head, they could not enjoy that spectacular play of emotions that her face could never seem to mask from them. He unzipped it and tugged it free.

He was rewarded with the most breath-taking look of wonder. Their wife surpassed even his daughter's innocent delight as she unwrapped present after present. Those crystalline blue eyes were so fucking wide he feared that he would get sucked right into them like a black hole. Her pink lips formed the perfect 'O' of shock. Her cheeks were the most delightful shade of pink. 

He bent and kissed her lips tenderly. Then he trailed lighter ones across that warm cheek to her ear. "Happy Christmas," he whispered as he bit down on it hard enough that she once more arched up off of bed, burying Bjorn's fingers deeper once more and setting off aftershocks of her powerful release. 

His brother smiled as he slid up her body to lie on the other side. He bent and kissed her shoulder tenderly with his fingers still buried between her very wet thighs, "Like your Christmas present, darling?"

Mikael laughed at the comical way her head bobbed up and down against the white pillow case. He brought his hand down hard on her outer thigh. His smile did not match his words as she turned to look at him, "Bad manners, little girl. Use your words," the irony was not lost on any of them considering it had become the standard phrase she used with his daughter. 

"Yes, Sir," she replied breathlessly.

"Yes, Sir, what elskling? Yes, Sir, I will answer properly? Or yes, Sir, I like my Christmas present?"

She smiled, "Just, yes, Sir. To it all."

He chuckled as he playfully swatted her thigh once more, "We shall see about that, our lovely slut wife. If you insist upon testing our limits, I think it is only fair we test yours tonight as well. Ja?"

She frowned, "Test your limits? But I am not even being bratty?"

It was his baby brother, who chose to respond as he trailed his damp fingers up over her tummy until his hand came to cup and squeeze her breast, "Maybe, but realize this, my darling, sharing you is never easy. And sharing you like this..." Bjorn shook his head as his words trailed off. He bent and took her hard nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking softly at first but then he bit down until she once more jerked against the bed and her bindings. "This is not easy for us." Bjorn's face softened as he smiled and moved up to kiss her, "But there is nothing we won't do for you."

"If we can," Mikael added the voice of reason. "Besides, how the fuck could we miss all the damned hints you have been dropping for weeks, woman? Chapter ten indeed!"

Kirsty had the good graces to blush and drop her eyes then. "Thank you," she whispered.

Mikael shifted so that he too lay on his side facing her, his hands ran across her soft abdomen and lower, feeling for himself just how wet she was. "I would not thank us just yet, lilla gumman. Who is to say that this night will go as your fantasies?"

She glowed, beamed at him as she fought the ropes once more. Then she collapsed back against the pillow, "However it goes, it will be perfect, because I have both of you here with me. For once, I did not have to make that horrible choice."

They chuckled, "Really? You think having to choose which husband sleeps in your bed is so damned hard, sweetheart? Most women don't get that pleasure," Bjorn teased her.

"Hell, most women don't have one husband that looks as hot as you, let alone two," her brows furrowed and her expression darkened. 

Mikael knew exactly what she was thinking. He knew too that his baby brother did not want to know. So he bent and trailed soft kisses along her neck up to her ear. He traced his tongue around the outer ridge just long enough to convince his brother it was more of their games. His whisper was low, so low he was not sure that she would even hear it, "I know, elskling. He will come around...in time." Mikael was not sure if it was a promise he should make, but at that moment he needed to hear those words as much to convince himself as her. 

He bit her lobe and pulled it playfully until she once more writhed on the bed. When he released it and drew back, the smile on her face told him that she had heard what he said...and that she was glad he had said it. 

He hoped she would be glad of his other plans for this night. The ones he had not even shared with his brother. He hoped like hell that Bjorn would go along with them. Because one thing was for certain, their wife could no longer be allowed to live in fear of certain things. And Sven be damned, it was up to him and Bjorn to mend his cock ups. 

"As beautiful as you are trussed up like Mama's hog roast and spread out for us, I have something else in mind, lilla gumman." Mikael reached up and untied the wrist closest to him as his brother did the same. Then he slid down the bed and took care of both her ankles, massaging the blood back into them and teasing her sensitive feet with his light tickles until she giggled and looked down at him.

"I want to watch you ride my brother's cock," his voice was deep and guttural. It was a clear command, one he did not even bother to soften with an endearment. "Ride Bjorn's cock. Show us what a dirty little slut our wife can be," he demanded.

His brother turned and speared him with a dirty look. Mikael wanted to laugh and ask 'who was tøffelhælta now?' But he was saved from it by the quick intake of her breath and low moan that reminded them both just how much dirty talk turned her on. Still he could not resist an 'I told you so' smile to his kid brother as he moved to sit back at the foot of the bed.

Damn, the woman, she had to turn and give him the sauciest smile as she obeyed his command, slowly swinging her leg over Bjorn's hips. While she made no genuine attempt to mount his brother, he nodded at her games as she slid her wet folds up and down him. Damn, she could be such a tease. Teasing them both with her obedience, that was not really. 

Mikael shook his head at her, "Is that what I told you to do, whore?" He watched her face. He so rarely used that term. He knew it was the strongest in his repertoire and he did not use it lightly for that very reason. 

But if he was too push her beyond her limits, help her to overcome the trauma that was haunting her, haunting them all, then he needed to take control and banish that brat. Even though generally speaking his bad boy loved playing with the little minx, neither ever completely sure which would win the battle, and neither really caring. 

Mikael was grateful that her body blocked his view of his brother's face. He could almost guarantee that this look would kill, if it could. "Fucking, ride his cock, slut." He reached across and laced his fingers through her hair, pulling her head back until she stared into his eyes. "Put his hard cock into that sopping wet cunt and ride it just like you did his fingers. Ride it until your whole body explodes and you soak his dick the way you did the bed," he avoided his brother's gaze this time by capturing her lips in a deep and erotic kiss that went on and on. 

By the time he drew back, her lips were swollen and she had somehow managed to obey him, working Bjorn's cock into her tight depths while never breaking their kiss. "Good girl," he whispered as his hand smoothed her hair back into place. "Now ride it, lilla gumman. Ride his cock and come on it while I watch you."

He reached up and tweaked her nipple, "That excites you too, doesn't it? Knowing I'm watching you ride my brother's cock. Waiting my turn. You like that, don't you, our sweet little slut wife?"

She closed her eyes and threw back her head. Her long red locks hung almost to her round ass then as it bobbed up and down at his command. Her breasts bounced as she rode Bjorn's cock, not just from the motion, but from the ragged breathing that signalled her approaching orgasm. 

He shook his head as he allowed himself the pleasure of his hand moving slowly up and down his cock. They had both undressed while she was bound helplessly and blindfold. Mikael had also taken the time to grab a couple of things from the toy box for later.

"No, little girl. You do not get the easy way out this night. Open those eyes. Look into Bjorn's while you fuck him, tell him how it feels. Tell him exactly how it feels. Remember I am watching you. If you don't want to feel the tawse on that sweet pussy you will use your good manners and thank my brother for your orgasms, cause as wet as that sweet cunt is tonight, they would hurt like hell." 




Ægir's Wife Ch. 02



Mikael bit his own lip. He had not been prepared to actually enjoy this, watching his wife fuck his baby brother. He would have sworn he would have been so turned off that he had carefully prepared back up plans should performance anxiety be too much. But fuck, he could only remember one other time when he had wanted her this fucking much, been this damned turned on...that first time he had taken her in this bed. The first time he had allowed himself the full pleasure of her body. 

He was not sure whether to be relieved or disgusted with himself that the sight of his brother's cock plunging deeper and deeper inside of her did such a fucking head job on him. But for damned sure, it would make his plans for this night easier. He released his throbbing cock...if he could manage to hold off his own fucking orgasm that long. 

Time to get the show moving forward a bit faster then, he decided as he pushed her forward to lean against Bjorn's chest. His hand caressed her shoulders and back as his brother took over most of the action, lifting his hips to pound his cock into their wife. Mikael scraped his nails down her spine. Though he knew they were not as sharp, it would remind her of his knife. Distract her just a bit as her orgasm continued to build. "Thank him, slut. Thank my brother for fucking your wet pussy. Tell him how fucking much you love it," Mikael demanded. 

"Oh," she screamed as loudly as she had when he had finally given her that first release with his tongue on the boat. He flinched a bit. Though this room was more sound proofed than the ship, he was almost certain that not even that would prevent such an ear piercing scream from penetrating the walls and echoing into Sven's room right next door. 

But there was nothing to be done for that now. Who knew...maybe that was what his thick headed, horse's cock of brother needed to make him pull his head out of his own ass? 

He wrapped his hand through her hair once more and pulled her head back as he leaned down. His used his teeth to bite hard into her earlobe. "I said tell him. Fucking tell him, whore. Tell him how fucking good his thick cock feels in your wet fuck hole."

***

Kirsty skipped a beat, lost the incredible rhythm that she and Bjorn had going. His cock slipped from her wet folds and she cried out in frustration as the powerful orgasm came to an abrupt halt. She whimpered and writhed helplessly against him, trying to draw his thick cock back into her needy cunt.

"Please," she begged and pleaded.

"No!" His voice was deeper than ever. "Don't you fucking dare, Bjorn. Don't give the little slut what she needs until she tells you how fucking much she wants it."

Her eyes flew open. The first thing she saw was the dark clouds gathering in Bjorn's eyes. She could tell he was not happy. But she was. Oh, sweet Freya, she had never wanted her bad boy more than she did then. He was driving her insane and it felt like heaven.

In that moment she did not have time to soothe Bjorn's feathers, her body was too afire. All she could do was show him, show him how very much his brother's bad boy was the perfect complement to her gentle giant. And hope it would be enough.

"Please, I need your cock, Bjorn. It feels so fucking good inside my needy cunt. Fuck me! Fuck me hard. Use my tight pussy. Please," though it was Bjorn to whom she addressed her pleas it was Mikael's silvery depths into which she stared.

He smiled and nodded, "Fuck her tight cunt, little brother. Give our little whore what she needs." Mikael titled her head back further as he inched forward just enough that his own hard cock grazed her bottom lip. Then he pulled back with a devilish smile as she felt Bjorn's hand between their bodies guide his hard cock back inside her. 

She sighed and moaned as she sank down on it. Looking down into Bjorn's green eyes she began to move on his cock once more. Her breath froze in her throat when he spoke, "I think my brother's cock needs sucking." His hands on her hips dug painfully deep into the soft flesh. 

Sometimes it was way too easy for her to forget that beneath that gentle, loving exterior beat a darkness matched only by Loki himself. "Yes, Master," she breathed as she turned her head back to the side and looked up at Mikael, "Please, Sir, please may I suck your hard cock?"

"Good girl," they exclaimed as they took up complimentary paces. Mikael's hands laced through her hair as his cock plunged to the back of her throat making her gag a bit and pushing her further down onto his brother's cock. Both then slowly backing off just enough to allow her to her breathe. Before repeating the whole process over and over again. 

She was mindlessly orgasming when Mikael pulled back. His cock slipped from her mouth with a loud pop. His fingers in her hair tightened until he forced her to look up at him, "Chapter ten, Kirsty."

For several long moments, she could not imagine what he was talking about as Bjorn slowed the pace, but continued to fuck her slowly and deeply. She shook her head slowly as she tried to remember what he was talking about.

Mikael answered her unspoken question, "Chapter ten of My Brother's Keeper."

Her eyes went wide as she shook her head. She struggled to break free of Bjorn's hold on her hips as panic took over worse even than that damned hood. Her vision clouded as tears gathered in her eyes. "No, Mikael, no," she pleaded.

His face softened as did his touch in her hair, his hands petted her hair tenderly. "Yes, lilla gumman. I know this scares you, but what kind of Doms would we be, what type of husbands, if we allowed that fear to keep controlling you?"

Kirsty felt the tears slid from her eyes, "Please, no, not that, Mikael," she begged as she turned to Bjorn, who had stopped thrusting completely though his cock remained buried to the hilt inside of her. Her eyes pleaded with him to back her in this, though she could tell he was as confused as she had been a moment before. 

Mikael sat back on his heels as his hands continued to toy in her hair, "I know, Kirsty. We both know how much anal scares you after what happened. Just listen to me, please." He sighed as he turned to look at Bjorn as well, "Both of you."

"Sweetheart, you won't even fucking tell us, either of us, what happened that night. That tells us way too much. And while we know that anal sex was never top of your fetish list, until that night you were at least willing to explore things a bit. Hell, it was you who told me about that damned book," he smiled at her then, "which by the way...damn is that some hot porn. Why do you fucking women insist on putting those naked men on the covers? Just to scare us guys off so we won't find out what dirty little sluts we are married to?" She chuckled a bit through the tears at his sense of humor and his insight. "It was you, who suggested it remember?" he challenged.

She shook her head again, "Yes, but that was before..."

"Before what, Kirsty?" Bjorn spoke up, "Before my asshole of a brother raped your ass? Before Sven hurt you?"

She was not sure why his words cut so deep, why she felt the need to defend the man who was not there to defend himself. "It wasn't like that," she blushed. "Well, not completely anyway."

Mikael nodded, he thought he might understand, "Your pain slut liked it, didn't she? She got off to the rough way he used you and that makes you feel guilty, doesn't it, elskling?"

She felt more tears sliding down her cheeks as she slowly nodded her head. She closed her eyes against their looks of disgust and horror, feelings that she had battled so often since that night.

"Fuck," Bjorn cursed as his hands caressed her arms lovingly. 

But it was Mikael who spoke, "Look at me, lilla gumman." She shook her head. "I said, look at me. Open those fucking eyes and see the truth, woman," he demanded more deeply. As hard as it was for her, her truly submissive nature could never disobey such a clear command. She reluctantly lifted her eyes to his dark storm cloud grey ones. 

"My brother used your own body against you. There is no fucking excuse for what he did...and trust me he is still feeling the pain of that night. I made damned sure of that, elskling. But you have nothing to be ashamed of. Do you hear me? Nothing. Your body and brain are hardwired that way. It is your nature to respond to both pleasure," his fingers gently feathered across her nipple until it hardened again. Then he pinched it, hard, until she cried out. Her cunt muscles tightening on Bjorn's cock as she came hard. "And pain."

He allowed her body to come down from the sudden and intense release, for her brain to begin to function at least a little bit before he continued speaking, "Not everyone is hard wired that way." He chuckled, "Fuck, most people are not."

Mikael bent and brushed a soft kiss across her lips, "I have never fucking met a masochist, who could so perfectly match the depths of my sadism, elskling. That is a gift...to me at least. So do not ever again feel ashamed of being a pain slut, understood?"

She still was not completely sure that she agreed with Mikael's assessment of the situation when Bjorn's hands cupped the side of her face and turned her head to meet his gaze. "I may not appreciate the depths of that masochist the way my brother does, beloved, but one thing I have struggled with is the fact that none of us can truly change our natures. Oh sure, we can hide it. Sometimes even train it, so that it does not control us. But none of us can truly change who we are." 

Bjorn pulled her down onto his chest once more as his tongue licked slowly along her bottom lip, "Never be ashamed of any part of you, my love. We know you don't see it now, but you are absolute perfection to us." 

His hands slid lower to her too soft tummy and she flinched at the reminder of her imperfections when she was surrounded by male beauty that would have any woman wet and welling. "Yes, darling, those soft curves that cushion our hard bodies, welcome us and remind us of what a woman should feel like."

She sucked in a deep breath as she felt the bed shift and Mikael's hard chest press against her back, the wiry hair on it softly abrading her skin as he feathered kisses across her shoulders and his hands caressed her round bottom, "And this sweet ass, elskling. Its soft roundness. I am not and never will excuse my brother's action, but fuck can I understand how gods be damned easy it would be to lose control with it pressed against your hard cock like this," he whispered as he matched actions to his words, grinding his erection against the crack of her ass as he moaned. 

"Tell me, lilla gumman, tell me that you do not want it still. Chapter ten. That you do not want to feel my hard cock buried in that tight ass while Bjorn's is balls deep in your cunt. That you do not want to feel the delicious pain of being stretched on both of your cocks. Filled like never before. Loved completely and thoroughly by both of us. Tell me that you don't want that still and we drop it completely. At least for tonight," he said as he continued to undulate against her crack, once more pushing her further down onto his brother's cock. 

She moaned at the erotic web Mikael's words were weaving as Bjorn stopped his gentle seduction of her mouth. 

***

This night had gone nothing like he had planned. Bjorn was still not sure he was comfortable with the rough way his brother treated their wife. But that was beside the point, because the way Kirsty reacted to Mikael's over-the-top dirty talk clearly said that she was. He had to come to terms with that, learn to respect it, that Mikael could give her something he could not. But there were other things he could give her that his brother could not too.

"Look at me, Kirsty," he demanded and waited until her blue gaze met his. "My brother is right. We would not be very good Doms, husbands or even men if we allowed what happened that night to continue to control that beautiful mind of yours." He smiled as he teased, "That is my fucking job."

She smiled and chuckled, "Yes, Master."

"Good girl," he reassured her. "This is the perfect time to deal with this, darling. You may trust me. You may trust Mikael. But somewhere in that sometimes warped thinking of yours, you cannot allow either of us to break through on this one. Gods know I have tried."

"Me too," his brother added.

"But together we can and will deal with this, baby girl. Think of it this way...together we are a safety net. You know that I will never allow anyone...even my brothers to hurt you."

"And you know that when I do hurt it...it is only good pain," Mikael replied as he pressed her tighter against his body.

Bjorn sighed and sent a prayer to all the gods and goddesses in Asgard that he would never regret this, "Do it, brother. You fuck her virgin ass, while I fuck her mind."

Mikael nodded and for a moment his weight lifted. Bjorn watched him reach beneath the bed and smiled as he brought out a plastic container of lube. They would definitely have a little talk about this later. 

And depending on how this night went perhaps with their fists in the 'fighting' fields. He hoped his brother had not gotten overly confident with his battle against the 'old' man. He had grown quite a bit since the last time his brother had tied up that scrawny little kid for pestering him too damned much. 

Oh, no, they would definitely need to have another long talk about this night before they did it again. But there was little doubt from the way their wife acted that they would be doing this again...and again...and again. That too would wait though, right now his wife needed his full attention. "Look at me, Kirsty."

Her eyes were wide and he could tell that no matter the cool logic of his words or their soft loving and reassurance their wife was once more deep in the throes of her fears. It reminded him that he had not yet taken his turn with the 'old' man in those 'fighting' fields and that fear made him want to. But that too would wait. "Listen to me, baby girl. Nothing exists outside of my voice. Do you understand me, Kirsty?"

She nodded her head slowly and a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. He kissed it away, drinking in the bitter saltiness of her pain, determined that they would replace it with sweet love. "What, Kirsty? Is that how you answer your Master?"

She shook her head again, "No, Sir. I mean, yes, Sir. Oh, I don't know, Sir."

"That's right, sweetheart. You don't know. Like other things, your thoughts and feelings have gotten so fucking muddled in that brilliant brain of yours that overthinks every gods be damned thing. So tonight you are going to trust me to tell you what you are thinking and feeling. Just as you are going to trust Mikael to use that responsive little slutty body of yours without abusing it or your trust. Understand me, darling," it was not a question, but a clear command.

"Yes, Master," she nodded. 

"Good girl, now you are going to ride my cock until you come again. While Mikael uses his fingers to open up that virgin ass of yours," he saw her begin to shake her head at his assertion. His hand came down hard on her outer thigh, "I said virgin ass and I meant it. What happened then was not sex, it was rape and that doesn't count in my book."

He watched more tears cascade down her face and kissed each of them away. He smiled as his brother bent and kissed along the ridge of her back. His words perfectly suited to the moment, "And just because your pain slut got off to it does not make it right. Little brother is right. Your orgasm does not change the fact that what Sven did was rape, lilla gumman."

Bjorn nodded his agreement as his hands on her hips began to guide her movements on his cock once more. He began slowly, tenderly making loving to his wife as his brother followed his suit perfectly, kneading and caressing her shoulders and back. They took turns kissing her sweet lips, turning her head and passing her back and forth between them until she was panting. 

"Come for us, our sweet Freya," his brother whispered against her shoulder as she exploded on his cock, screaming out once more as her orgasm consumed her. Only then did Bjorn feel the warm oil cascade down her ass and coat his balls as his cock plunged inside her tight cunt. 

Her moans deepened as he felt her cunt tighten even more as his brother's finger entered her ass, constricting the space around his cock until he feared he would lose complete control and come before they could finish what they started. He first tried naming all the baseball teams, AL and NL, but that did not take the edge off as Mikael slipped a second finger inside her ass and there was even less room for his cock to move. 

Bjorn moaned and begin to work on his latest proofs of the unsolved P versus NP problem that he had toyed with since he was a teenager. It was his secret weapon for keeping the darkness at bay anytime he was angry or worried or as now unbearably horny. He pulled it out and began to work on the solution in his mind. But even that was scant help when Mikael added a third finger to her impossibly tight asshole. "Fuck, man, you're killing me here," he cursed. 

She chuckled, "Killing you? Fuck...you have no idea how it feels."

"Tell me, lilla gumman. Tell us how it feels," Mikael purred as he kissed along their wife's shoulder. 

"So fucking amazing. So good. Oh...so fucking full," she cried out as another orgasm left her shaking in Bjorn's arms and his control in shreds. 

"Fuck, woman," he cursed as his hand on her hips tried to still her movements before she took him over the edge with her. 

"Yes, yes, fuck me. Both of you. Fuck me!" She screamed and begged and pleaded as she frantically rode his cock.

"Damn it, Mikael. Do it! Fucking do it before I lose control and embarrass myself here," Bjorn tried to laugh until he realized what a mistake that was, driving his cock deeper inside her tight cunt. 

Mikael did laugh as he nudged her weight forward, pressing her soft tits tighter on Bjorn's chest until he moaned again, followed by a string of colorful curses in French, English, Italian, Russian, German and both traditional and the local dialect of Norwegian. His brother added a few of his own as Bjorn felt his cock slip inside their wife's tight body. 

It became a real test of control then as Bjorn held perfectly still, though Kirsty's eyes flew wide open with inch millimeter that Mikael's cock advanced. "Fuck," she spat as her chest heaved against his. 

"Exactly, my darling wife...totally and completely fucked and filled by both our cocks. That is what you wanted it wasn't it?" growled Mikael as he fully imbedded his cock in her asshole. "What you fantasized about in this bed all those nights when we are gone? Chapter ten...filled by both our fucking hard throbbing cocks in both your gods be damned tight holes. Just like the good fucking slut wife you are."

"Yes, oh, fucking yes, Mikael," she pleaded as she began to move harder and faster on both their cocks. "Now shut the fuck up and do it. Fuck me...use me like your good little whore."

Mikael bit down into her shoulder as he began to move hard and fast inside her ass. "Tut-tut, my little brat. You know you will pay for that later. But for now, you may have a point. This sweet ass can't take the prolonged fucking I want to give it so get ready for hard and fast, my luscious little slut. Cause little brother and I both have full fucking balls we need to empty in your tight little holes."

Bjorn did laugh as she turned her head to stare up at Mikael in challenge, "Big talk, Sir."

Mikael growled and slammed into her ass hard, pushing her down further on Bjorn's cock. His hands on her hips held her there as his brother used her ass. Bjorn figured he would let his big brother do all the work for them both for a bit. The sensation of his brother's cock through the thin membrane that separated her cunt and her ass was providing more than enough stimulation to get his already overexcited cock off. 




Ægir's Wife Ch. 02



But for good measure, Bjorn figured it was time to end this battle between them all for supremacy. He asserted his control as he turned her head back to face him, "Come, our sweet fucking Freya. Come on your husbands' hard cocks. Milk our balls until you fucking drain us, slut."

Bjorn thought he had heard her scream before, but those were nothing compared to the vocal eruption that accompanied the impossibly strong contractions that did exactly what he had commanded. Mikael's roars melded with hers and his to create a symphony that not even Beethoven could master. 

He fought the urge to close his eyes as he felt the huge load of incredibly hot come surge up his urethra and burst like a volcano into her welcoming pussy. But it was worth it to watch the look of utter ecstasy upon her face as his words, their cocks and the ultimate fulfilment of her fantasy combined to fuel an orgasm that never seemed to end. 

Mikael rolled to the side taking Kirsty's weight off of his chest and cocooning her body between them. Somehow as incredible as it seemed both their spent cocks remained buried balls deep in her holes. Once more they took turns kissing her, passing her swollen and breathless lips back and forth between them as their cocks finally began to soften a bit inside her, though the fit was still tight. 

"Fuck Valhalla and death in battle. That's how I want to go," Bjorn chuckled. 

Mikael joined him in laughter, "When did you get so fucking smart, little brother?"

Kirsty nuzzled between them, "So, lilla gumman, was Chapter ten all you expected it would be?" his brother teased as Mikael nibbled at the dark purple bruise on her shoulder where he had bitten her. 

"And more," she sighed as she leaned her head against Bjorn's shoulder. 

"Good," his brother smiled as he turned and slipped from her ass. He bent and kissed her, "I need to get back downstairs to that fucking doll house of yours. Some genius idiot wrote the instructions for putting the damned thing together."

Mikael brushed her hair back from her face, "Happy Christmas, elskling. I love you," he brushed another gentle kiss on her lips. 

"What a little doll house going to get the better of the bad boy? And here I thought I remembered something about a punishment," she teased.

Mikael chuckled as he swatted her ass, "No, your bad boy will get the better of the damned thing in the end, just like he does of his little brat. And speaking of which, you heard right. But I don't think baby brother can handle watching one of your punishments...just yet. Hell, I was afraid he was either going to die of a heart attack or kill me just from our dirty talk, my sweet little whore."

She smiled and wrapped her arm about his brother's neck, "Thank you, Mikael. I love you too." She released his brother as he reached for his jeans that he had discarded on the floor next to bed. 

She turned back to Bjorn and snuggled into his chest. Her red hair spread across it as she whispered, "And just like I love you too, my gentle Master."

Bjorn chuckled and kissed the top of her head, "Just so you don't bring that brat shit into our bed, my slutty wife."

Mikael laughed, "You might discover your own sadist, baby brother, if you had to deal with that she-cat like I do. God natt, you two," he said as he closed the door.

Bjorn wrapped his arm about her and held her close as she drifted off to sleep. His own mind replayed and overthought every single thing that had happened this night as he tried to come to terms with it all. One thing was for certain...the relationship that his wife and brother shared was nothing like the one they did. He supposed that was why this lifestyle worked so well...each gave something different, but something she needed. 

He thought about his eldest brother...well, sometimes. He frowned as he wondered as angry as he was with the man, was it possible that she was missing something? Some part that neither he nor Mikael could provide, something that only Sven could give.

***

Mikael cursed as he hit his thumb with the hammer for the third time in less than fifteen minutes. If he did not get the damned thing finished soon, Monika would be up before he could. What would she think of a Santa Claus that could not put together a simple doll house?

"Need a hand?" 

Mikael held up his purple and blue thumb as he smiled at Sven, "A thumb at least."

"What? Tired yourself out too much? Going to let a little doll house get the better of you?" his brother teased.

Mikael laughed, "You sound just like her."

"Trust me...no one, not even your daughter can sound like that woman when she screams," his brother replied as he picked up the hammer and began to work.

Mikael blushed unsure what to say. so they worked in uncomfortable silence until the damned thing finally took shape. As they put in the final nail, Mikael extended his hand to the brother with whom he had barely spoken since that night, "Thanks. And I'm sorry."

Sven shrugged, "No problem. You have nothing to apologize for, little brother. You spoke the truth that's all."

Mikael nodded, "You know it doesn't have to be. I know things are hard right now, but she is not the type to hold grudges. Just talk to her. Give it another chance."

Sven shook his head, "Nei, Mikael. Not for me. Not after what happened." He turned and walked into the kitchen just as they descended the stairs in mass. His baby brother holding his daughter as their wife leaned in laughing and giggling about something. 

Mikael shook his head. He could not give up. Just looking at her, at the way she had reached into his little girl's world and opened it up for them, the way she had brought him and that bratty baby brother back together, the way she had even broken down some of the walls that his mother had erected a lifetime ago, he had to believe in miracles. Especially this day. His very special angel could work miracles with his older brother too...it would just take some time.



Ægir's Wife Ch. 03



The cold fingers of the wind seeped through even the careful layers that she pulled tighter about her, hardening nipples that were already aching with need for their touch. Once more the waters of the fjord were as turbulent as the emotions blowing inside her mind, tossing and rolling waves lapped at the sides of the boat. Kirsty stilled herself for whatever lay on board, be it welcoming warmth of fires raging in the hearth or the icy winter peaks that loomed all around her forming a fortress as impregnable as his heart.

Over three months. Three months and the man had not touched her. She was almost certain he had not spoken more than a couple hundred words to her in all that time either. And most of those were 'Unnskyld mæ'...excuse me. Sure, when he thought she was not looking, she sometimes caught him staring her, but his face held no clue as to what he was thinking, any more than the ice-capped mountains that surrounded them. 

She though had spent days perhaps even weeks thinking about him. Trying to come to terms with all that had happened between them. Her mind rebelled vehemently against that word which Mikael and Bjorn especially insisted upon using. It was not rape, of that much she was certain. He had not even violated her consent. Just lost control...and honestly, some part of her liked the fact that she could make Atlas, Mister Cool loss that composure. No, what had bothered her most was not the way he had taken her ass that first time. 

It was what had happened afterwards. The only hard limit she was truly certain she had...besides the obvious illegal and disgusting ones of course...was humiliation. And being dragged naked into the hall way like that, watching them argue and even come to blows over her was damned close to it. That she was still having trouble coming to terms with. The obvious reason was simple, because no matter what had happened she still cared for Sven. And his rejection that night and since hurt. She hated how much it bothered her. 

With Bjorn and Mikael's loving support, Petrine's and Olaf's too, she had almost totally settled happily into her new life here. It was odd how London where she had lived her whole life had simply faded into a memory so quickly. How could this place feel so much like home after such a short time? 

So why was she procrastinating? Delaying the inevitable? Her previous supervisor had retired and her friend Roz had taken her place. Kirsty had received two emails from her already asking about her plans. 

She frowned as she approached the boat that was already docked and tied off at the pier. Usually it was bustling with all of them working to unload and secure things off, but not today. That worried her a bit. Had something gone wrong? Surely Bjorn or Mikael would have told her if it had. 

Was that part of it? Kirsty readily admitted that these frequent trips not only left her lonely but worried. Even though Bjorn and Mikael had both explained how lucrative this winter fishing season was to them, it was still hard to put the stories of Lars and Stig from her mind. The thought of the dangers that they faced kept her awake in that bed more often than the aching need between her thighs. 

She smiled...her husbands came up with increasingly inventive and sometimes devious ways to make certain that she never felt lack of either their control, her orgasms or even Mikael's pain. Of course, it was never quite the same as it was when they shared her bed...and increasingly it had truly been 'they.' 

Especially on nights like this one, where after days or weeks without the touch of their bodies on hers, there was no way humanly possible that she could choose between the men she loved. Not that it was easy. Well, not on them anyway. Bjorn had more than once cringed when he saw first-hand the depth of her masochist. 

She chuckled as she remembered the time that Mikael had brought back a special surprise for her. He and Bjorn had each taken a breast, kneading and sometimes even crushing the full globes in their hands, tweaking the nipples until they hardened like the rubbers that she had used in school, until at last each bent their heads and took a turgid peak into his mouth. 

She had actually come then as she watched their heads so close to one another. Bjorn's light blonde long hair woven about her even lighter skin as he suckled and blew across the tip. Mikael's darker, almost brown hair, shorter as it tickled her other breasts, but his teeth bit and scored her flesh. The contrast and perfect complement of her husbands had sent her body spiralling unexpectedly out of control. 

Without permission. Which of course meant one thing...punishment. Oh, what punishment though. Mikael had once more taken the tawse to her bare and very wet cunt. She had tried very hard not to look at the dark and worried expression on Bjorn's face as she counted out twenty strikes with the stiff leather straps, thanking Mikael after each. 

But it was her dark Loki's punishment that hurt far worse than the delicious sting on her clit and cunt. On number eighteen as she felt her need rising, knowing that Mikael always commanded her to come upon the final blow, Bjorn's handsome face had filled her field of vision. His smile was as devious as any that his sadist brother ever made as he whispered, "You do NOT have permission to come, our naughty, needy little slut wife."

When Mikael bent for his 'takk, min herre' kiss for her pain, his smile matched his brothers. Together they had made her pay the ultimate price for her disobedience, torturing her for hours with the prefect mix of pain and pleasure, including Mikael's special gift...a new set of nipple clamps with a nasty set of teeth that made her first cringe in fear then smile in anticipation. 

Bjorn had once more frowned at her quick intake of breath as Mikael began to slowly turn the screws until she felt the bite of it into her sensitive and tender flesh. But her pain slut was not to be deterred as she sighed in satisfaction at the feeling. He repeated the process on the other nipple. Then tightened them both one more turn. He stepped back to inspect them, but that was not enough either as he reached out and firmly tugged the chain that was secured to both. She still was not sure how she had managed not to orgasm then too. 

Thankfully she had not though. As it was her punishment was bad enough. Hours of mixed pain and pleasure. Even the two of them taking turns fucking her, still they had not allowed her to orgasm. She had finally broken down crying, begging and pleading like a little child to be allowed to come. That was the moment she realized who the real sadist was. As Mikael and Bjorn looked at one another, it was her light/dark angel, who had shaken his head 'no.' 

It was Mikael's turn to frown darkly as Bjorn swept her into his strong arms, kissing away her tears as he whispered, "My beloved angel, I know this lesson is hard on you. On us too. But you must learn, who controls that beautifully complicated mind of yours. If you cannot surrender that control to us when we hold you in our arms, how can you possibly when we are nothing more than video illusions, voices in your head or inadequate words upon a screen?"

She shook her head, not fully understanding the importance of that lesson in the depths of need that bit worse than the clamps, Hermóður or even the tawse upon her wet cunt. It was not until the next morning when they had shown her mercy. If you call repeated orgasming upon command as each took turns whispering, "Come for me, my sweet Freya," into her ears. 

She sighed, so why was she doing this now, keeping something from them? From them all. Keeping a secret like this.

She swallowed hard as she climbed abroad Ægir's Captive. There could be no doubt now...she was not their captive. She was no longer certain she ever really had been. From the moment his hand had gripped her elbow and drawn her through that turnstile at the train station, she had been theirs. She shook her head as her frown deepened, perhaps even from the moment she opened his first message on that site. 

She felt the bite of the wind upon her cheek, like icy fingers gripping her mind. Her eyes clouded over as she stepped fully upon the deck. She reached up to rub them clear and was surprised to see the moisture of tears on the tips of her gloves. No, the truth was that she had walked on this ship of her own free will as much that day as this. They might have thought she was their captive, but she knew the truth...she was destined for more, she was their wife. 

And only one thing marred that perfection. Him. Sven. The man, who had begun it all. The man, whose photograph had entranced her enough not to hit the block button for the first time ever. The man whose stern stare even in that grainy photograph had sent butterflies to flight in her tummy and wetness in her knickers. The one whose first touch had been all it took to both frighten her and draw her into their web. The one whose voice had caressed her mind and entranced her like a sorcerer's spell. The one who had taken her...but never more than she was willing to give. 

The only one she could not reach. The one that she had failed. And that was the problem. That was what made her so fucking reluctant to hit the send button on the email resignation that she had written weeks ago, even before Roz's first email. How could this place be home, how could they be her family, how could their love ever be enough...without his? The man she had first fallen in love with...probably even before she stepped on the train that day. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She had to find a way...somehow. Because she knew that she did not belong back there. That was never really an option. Not since the morning that Bjorn had handed her the unlocked tablet. Not since their mother offered to buy her a ticket back and put her on the plane herself. 

She loved them...these rough fishermen that were anything but simple. She loved the family that enveloped and adopted her, filling voids that not even she had really understood their depths. She belonged here...in this place. It called to her and felt like home in some unexplainable way. 

The only thing that remained was to figure out how...how to live so fucking, impossibly close to a man you loved and could never really have. She came back full circle...why did that hurt so fucking much...more than the goddess damned clamps or tawse? Why could she not just be happy with Bjorn's and Mikael's love? Most women had to settle for the love of one man. She had two. But still his distance ate at the core of her happiness like that worm buried deep within the bright shiny red apple, rotting it from within. 

She frowned as she slipped below deck. The boat was quiet. Too quiet. Maybe she had missed them in passing somehow. Maybe they were already at the Holding, though how that was possible she could not fathom. She checked their room and the galley, but no sign of either Mikael or Bjorn. Not even Sven. 

She debated turning around and going back to the house certain that she must have miscalculated how long it took her to make it back from her favorite perch near the top of the mountain. Obviously they had finished quicker than usual and were already laughing and chatting back at the house next to the warm fire. Well, Mikael and Bjorn anyway. Sven would be sitting silently in his chair with his pipe. With Olaf, Petrine and Monika in town she should head back, make them something to eat. 

Then she saw the light filtering through the crack of his door at the end of the hallway. She should definitely go back to the house. So why were her feet moving her forward? Closer to him. Towards the danger and pain that festered like an open wound in her heart. Still she could not make her feet turn around and flee. She did not even bother knocking as she pushed back the door just a bit.

Despite the cold, he stood by the foot of the bed as he wrapped rope about his forearm. Why did it have to be rope of all things, she thought, as she felt the wetness drip down her inner thighs. He was naked from the waist up, his feet bare against the rough wood floor that she had knelt upon more than once. 

His more mature body might not be the defined muscular beauty of Bjorn's, but it was lithe, honed by his work and stunning enough to turn any woman's head. She rubbed her palms against the wool of her skirt because they itched to reach out and once more run across the coarse hair that covered his chest and arrowed down provocatively into those tight jeans that hugged his thighs. 

Her eyes could not help but stray to the front of those jeans as she licked her bottom lip. She sucked in a breath to calm herself. She could almost remember the taste of him, the feel of that thickness buried deep in her throat. Though it was her needy cunt that throbbed and leaked even more sweetness down the inside of her thighs as she turned to go. 

This had been a mistake. A bad one, she thought as she turned to flee back the way she had come. Until one word stopped her, "Kirsten?"

Fuck him. Fuck this man who still could melt her insides with a single word said in that too fucking sexy accent. She willed herself not to turn around. She commanded her feet to move, one in front of the other. Fast. Flee him. Seek safety in the arms of the ones who did love her. Who did want her. So why the fuck was she still glued to the same spot?

***

Sven reached for her. Simply because he thought she was a mirage. When his hand touched solid, real bone and muscles on her elbow, his cock hardened instantly. Just as it had that first day when he had drawn her through the turnstile. How could she do that? No other woman ever had. Fuck it...the fact was he actually loved this woman. 

When? When had it happened? Certainly he had been attracted to her naïve innocence from the beginning. He enjoyed training subs, he always had. But this one was different than the married women that snuck around behind their husbands' backs to taste a bit of the kink he could offer them. For one thing, none of them had ever been as truly submissive as Kirsten was. 

She bordered on the edge of slave in her desire to please and need for submission. The only difference was that unlike a traditional slave, she had a strength of will that made it impossible to actually crush her, to truly enslave her. He shook his head. No, she was not the one enslaved. He was. He and his brothers. And hell yes, that still bothered him. 

For the first time in over three months, he was touching her. And even through the damned layers of her coat and sweater, he would swear he could feel the warmth of her too fucking soft skin. He shook his head and willed his heart that was racing to slow its pace. Sweet Freya, how he wanted to strip those clothes from her body and take her to his bed...just as he had that first day.

When she finally turned and looked up at him with those big blue eyes of hers, he felt the burn of oxygen trapped in lungs that no longer could function. The only part of his body that seemed capable of working at that moment was the hard, throbbing flesh between his legs that begged to bury itself inside her warm, welcoming wetness until all was lost. 

Then she dropped those eyes, staring at the wood floor as she spoke, "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just looking for..."

He dropped her elbow as the knife sunk deeper into the heart he had never thought he had until he first heard this woman's sweet laughter in that café that chilly autumn day in Tilbury. "Bjorn. Mikael. My brothers. You were looking for them, of course."

He turned his back. He would not let her know. He willed his feet to take the steps necessary to put the distance of his cabin between them, just as he had tried so fucking hard to put emotional distance between them these past few months. But it seemed when it came to this woman, his feet did not obey any better than his heart and mind. 

Then he felt the cool of her fingers on his shoulder, "No, wait, Sven. Please, please don't go." Her voice was breathy as he felt the warmth of it on the bare skin of his back. "I'm sorry."

He turned and grabbed her hands, he could not let her keep touching him. Didn't the woman know by now what that did to him? Every fucking time she did, he lost control. The one thing he had prided himself upon, the one thing that every fucking Dom should possess, and a simple touch from her could still fucking strip it away in the space of a heartbeat. "Damn you to Helveti."

Those blue eyes sparked as she rose up to her full height, which was impressive for a woman, but still far shorter than he was. "You already have," she spat as she began to struggle to break free of his grip. 

He pulled her closer, wrapped his arms like steel bars about her waist as she began to shove and pummel his bare chest. "Feeling is mutual, wife," he breathed against her warm, soft lips just before capturing them in a kiss that sought to extinguish the fires of Múspellsheimr. But each taste of her sweetness, each soft moan and whimper that he captured at the back of her throat, drove him closer to Ragnarök, "the end of the world." 

Just as it had that first day, she felt so fucking good in his arms, so gods be damned right. But it was not. He had to remind himself of that fact. He had made a promise to his brother...to himself. He would step away. She belonged to them now. His brothers. And as much as he wanted...fuck, almost needed...this, it was not right. She was no longer his. 

He broke the kiss then, released her as he turned and this time by some miracle of all the gods in Asgard managed to put the space of his cabin between them. Still he was wise enough to keep his back to her as he spoke, "Mikael and Bjorn remained in town with my uncle and mother. I am sure they will be here shortly though. Wait for them at the Holding." 

The room was silent. He thought she had obeyed him...fled back to the safety of the house and his brothers. Then he felt it...hands, surprisingly warm and so fucking soft as they ran lightly across his shoulders and upper back, trailing slowly lower and lower. He almost came undone when he felt the wetness of her tongue along his spine. But she was not finished with the torture as the heat of her breath fanned across it as she spoke, "I've missed you."

Three simple words. Three fucking words. And Sven felt the floor beneath him opening up, he was drowning. Drowning in her. Her touch. Her tender kisses and licks. And those words that so fucking echoed how he felt, but could never tell her. He swallowed it all back though as he fought back the raging need to take her. Take your wife, his mind screamed. He shook his head and tried to remind himself that she was not...not his...not anymore. So why the hell did it still feel so good, so right? "Please, Kirsten, please just go," he pleaded through gritted teeth.

Her hands found his waist and turned him. Why he allowed her to was beyond him in that moment. Especially when he looked into those striking blue eyes that never could hide her feelings. He swallowed hard and tried to suck air into his oxygen starved lungs but the sound came out as a moan when her hand began to fumble with the button on his jeans. "No, Kirsten, we can't," he pleaded. 

What happened next was truly shocking as much because for once those eyes did not telegraph her intents as she shoved him back onto his bed. Before he could utter a single word, she was on top of him. Her fingers made surprisingly quick work of the button and zipper on his jeans. He closed his eyes and groaned when those soft hands wrapped around the steel length of his cock. But they flew open a moment later when he felt the warm, wetness of something else wrapping around its head. "Kirsten," he half pleaded and half growled.




Ægir's Wife Ch. 03



Her eyes sparkled as she slid down the full length until his cock was fully seated inside of her, she rubbed against him in a slow circle that tested his limits almost to the point of breaking. "Shut up, Sven. Shut up and just fucking feel for once," she said as her hands began to rip the coat open. 

He laughed as he arched up into her. She threw back her head and shut her eyes as she cried out in her first orgasm. His hands joined hers, pushing and pulling until the damned coat was tossed to the floor somewhere. She gave up then as her hands planted themselves firmly on his chest. He knew she could feel the way his heart was racing, pounding so hard that he almost swore it would explode any moment...and for once he did not give a damn. 

His own hands though had other ideas as he pushed the soft wool sweater up over the top of her breasts. Any other time he might have actually appreciated the contrast of the deep purple lace confection against her alabaster skin sprinkled with enticing freckles, but in that moment all he felt was frustration that it stood in between his lips and the turgid peaks that he saw straining against it. He did not have the patience then as his mouth captured them through the lace.

She screamed aloud. One of those ear splitting ones that he loved and loathed so fucking much as he felt her tight cunt contract around his throbbing cock. He was not certain how, but by some miracle of the gods and goddess, he managed to hold out even though her orgasm milked at his cock in perfect time with each deep thrust. "Not yet, not quite yet, my sweet Freya," he groaned as he arched up burying his full length deep, deep inside her.

And the whole fucking universe exploded in a big bang as her scream became louder, more desperate. Something fucking stellar gripped him as her always tight cunt spasmed and gripped him, sucking his cock into a black hole, a spiralling vortex of need that he was utterly powerless to ignore. He cursed in every language he knew as he erupted inside her. Over three months of need. Three long fucking months of wanting and desiring this woman. The only one he had wanted...and he had tried more than once to divert his attention to other subs. 

Over three months of the only relief being his own hand when he got so completely desperate he could not avoid it anymore. Three months of coming to fantasies of her...none of them half as fucking good as this moment as her hands on his chest pressed him deep into the mattress and her thighs wrapped about his squeezed and sucked, drawing him so deep as he came in her that he swore he could never leave again.

It seemed to go on forever their combined orgasm. But it was over way too quickly as she collapsed atop him, her face buried in his shoulder as he wrapped his arm about her waist and held her tightly against his body. He turned his head and kissed her nose as he chuckled, "I don't think I have to guess what trigger baby brother used do I, my swe..."

Her fingers covered his lips, "Don't you fucking dare. I don't think I could survive another one like that," she giggled. 

He was the one questioning whether he would survive as her laughter plunged his still hard cock deeper inside of her. "Æ ælske dæ," the words were out before he could even think them. They just escaped before his brain could even filter them. He sucked in a deep breath and prepared for her questions. He knew she would have them...whether she had learned those words or not. 

But it was not be as they heard the loud echo of boots coming down the hall and heard Bjorn call out for her. He tried to push her off, but she sat up and shook her head. "No, Sven. No hiding. I will deal with him. But I am not fucking being made to choose...not by any of you again. So Bjorn can learn that as much as you can." 

She bent and kissed his lips lightly as the door swung open, "What the fuck!" his baby brother cursed from the doorway. But her body blocked his full view of his brother's face. He would bet that she intended it to. 

She lifted her head slowly and smiled at his brother, "God dag, Master." 

Sven frowned at that word. Even as he recognized their wife's innate wisdom in using it at this moment, he still was less than pleased to hear her call his baby brother 'Master,' a title that he had never desired himself...at least not with the temporary subs upon which he had wasted a lifetime. But it rankled like hell hearing her call Bjorn that. As much as the 'M' that shouted at him from the top of her breast, just inches from his face above the purple lace. He reached up and tugged her sweater down to cover it and her.

The fucking hard truth was that both of his brothers had staked their claims solidly on her mind, body and especially her heart. Question was...what was he going to do about it? He had sworn he would leave them to it. And endured three fucking months of living hell, a high price to pay for stupidity. Even if he was behind the game with her, today had shown that there was still hope. Hope he had to take. 

He turned his head and faced his baby brother, eye to eye, man to man. But it was their wife, who did the talking, "It was my choice, Bjorn. Just as it usually is. So I will tell you both right now, this night I am not fucking choosing between you. It will be all three of you in my bed or...none of you."

Sven stared at his warrior woman with a shocked surprise as she bent and kissed him. He felt his cock slip from her cunt and her hands slip between them tucking his erection back inside his jeans as much as she could anyway before she rose off him. Her skirt flowed about her legs but he could imagine his seed leaking slowly down her inner thigh.

She bent and picked up her coat, tossing it over her arm as she walked across the room and stood on tip toe. Her hand caressed his brother's smooth cheek tenderly and his chest tightened. She stood on her tip toes to kiss the damned giant. Just as softly as she had him a moment before. 

Then she stepped back and looked back and forth between them, "I will talk to Mikael myself. Though I doubt he will give me the trouble that the two of you will. Oh...and the only damned bruises I expect to see in that bed tonight are on me. So if you thought you could 'talk' this out in the 'fighting' field think again. Petrine and I both think that place has been fertilized enough with the blood of brothers."

She giggled and toss back her head, "So if your autistic niece can learn to use her words, I am sure the two of you can too. Otherwise...my door is closed to all of you until you do. Your choice." 

Without another word, she walked down the hall, wrapping her coat about her as she went. Never once did she look back at them, though both watched as she climbed the steps to the deck.

Then they turned to stare at one another. Sven shook his head and laughed, "Why the fuck 'my sweet Freya'?"

***

Bjorn tried his damnedest to breath as he turned off the shower and wrapped the towel about his waist. He knew he was fucking procrastinating. But he was still trying to come to terms with what was to happen this night. After Kirsty had left the boat, he and Sven had talked...as much as they could anyway. Bjorn had never been as close to his older brother as he was to Mikael. The man was more a boss, an acquaintance or familiar stranger than a brother. 

But she had given them no choice. Well, not really. Either they came together to her bed...or not at all. Any of them. And he at least had tried to dissuade her. That afternoon he had found her alone with Monika on the playground. When he had wrapped his arms about her waist, she had melded her body to his, leaning into him...and his hopes had soared.

He had spent a couple of moments simply kissing her cheek and working his way around to her ear where he nibbled on the lobe. Only when she smiled and sighed that perfect exclamation of contentment did he whisper, "You can't force us, you know."

He was prepared for an argument, had rehearsed his logic carefully, determined to win this battle of the wills. If he could not assert his will in this one, what kind of Master was he truly? He was not though prepared for her soft laughter as she turned in his arms and looked up at him with those incredible eyes, "I am not 'forcing' you to do anything, Master. I am merely exercising the control that I do have, Bjorn."

She had kissed his lips gently, "Do I need to remind you that you are the one that dragged Mikael and Sven into this marriage?"

He had shaken his head and skipped all others weapons in his arsenal, going straight for the jugular, "That was before Sven ra..."

Her fingers covered his lips as she shook her head, "No, I never used that word. You and Mikael did. I won't deny that what happened..." She paused and inhaled, looking across the field to make certain that his niece was well occupied, "It was not as much what happened when Sven..." 

He loved the way that after all their dirty talk, even the over the top crap that Mikael used with her, still she blushed as she continued, "It was not what happened in my bed that got inside my head as much as what happened afterwards. The way he...the way Sven..."

"Dragged you naked into the hall like a common whore? Threw you at me and told me to handle you that he had had enough?" he accused a bit too loudly.

She had shaken her head and placed her fingers over his lips, "You are so fucking innocent sometimes, my love."

Bjorn had felt anger welling inside of him, something he never thought himself capable of...not with her. He hated his anger. He had fought so long, a lifetime, to control the monster that lurked just inside him. "DON'T!" was all he trusted himself to say to the woman he loved, the woman he never wanted to hurt, but knew he was impossibly close to doing just then.

She shook her head and caressed his shoulder lightly, working her hands around to the knots in his neck, "Not like that. Not in a bad way, sweetheart. You are an idealist, an optimist, a true romantic. And I love all of that. I love you, Bjorn," she caressed his cheek and a tiny bit of the beast was shackled once more though it still fought at its chains.

"But it is not that easy for your brothers. The pain of Greta's betrayal ate at Mikael, left him questioning his own manhood. And Sven?" Bjorn was shocked to see tears brimming in her eyes then, "You had sixteen years here with Petrine before you finally went to sea. When you were still playing in your fort, your brother was already at sea. Doing a man's job and then studying his lessons at night."

"That was his choice," he argued, unswayed by her words. "He was the one that begged and pleaded until my father gave in...against our mother's wishes. I'm not sure she ever forgave him for it either."

She shook her head as her fingers caressed his lips tenderly, "There was a lot more standing between your mother and father than that one decision, Bjorn. But one thing I do know, I am not repeating their history. I am not allowing pride and jealousy to stand between us and the happiness we could all have."

"You know I love your mind more than I lust for your body, as much as I crave and need your control. So let me challenge you with this one...how much choice do any of us really have in this life? Whether it is your gods in Asgard, the ancient Greek ones that your mother teaches, the Christian one of my parents or just fucking Fate, the truth is that life throws crap at us every fucking day. And all we can really do is react to it," she wrapped her arms about his waist and held him tightly as she continued.

"I have lived here long enough, watched the sadness in your mother's eyes when she thinks no one is looking, the regrets of a lifetime, my beloved best friend and Master. I will not lose any of you to Njord and Ran without knowing that you take my love into Valhalla like a mighty shield. That is my choice to make with the cards that Fate has dealt me. But I cannot make your choice for you, my love. Only you can do that."

She had kissed him slowly and tenderly for a long moment until he would have sworn his toes curled inside his boots as she drew back, "Know this, darling, whatever you decide it will not change my love for you. Any more than your brother's mistakes changed my love for him." 

Bjorn would have argued more, tried to convince her though he knew it was futile, but Monika had had enough of the adults in her world ignoring her and had propelled her tiny form at his legs, demanding his attention as well as her new mother's. 

He stared into the mirror as he contemplated shaving. Damn it, he hated it when she got inside his head like this. She had been his choice because of her brilliant mind, quick wit and big heart, so why the fuck were those the very things that he battled now? "Fuck it," he cursed as he dropped the can of shaving foam...more for his niece, he chuckled as he opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hall where his brothers already waited outside her room.

***

Mikael sighed and forced a smile as Bjorn stepped into the hall, looking sheepishly at the floor. "Bless Vör, brother. I was beginning to believe I was going to have to come in there and 'convince' you."

Bjorn shook his head and chuckled, "She said no bruises, remember?"

"I'm a sadist, remember? All good sadists know how to inflict pain without leaving a single mark," he smiled.

Sven shifted from bare foot to foot on the cold wood floor as he looked from one brother to the other, "So are we doing this or not?"

Mikael held his breath as both of them met their youngest brother's eyes for a long moment. He shrugged slowly and shook his head, "Do we really have any fucking choice? I don't know about you two but after ten days at sea and looking forward to coming home to her welcoming arms I am willing...if reluctant," he added.

Mikael turned to Sven then, "And you, big brother? Ready to join the ranks of the Toffelhjälten?"

Sven frowned at him and growled, but then all three burst out laughing as the door to her room opened. She poked her head around the corner and smiled as she looked from one to the other of them. 

"Do we pass inspection, brat?" Mikael met her eye to eye with the challenge.

She shrugged with a slow smile and opened the door wider, "If you all promise to be good."

"No such promises, lilla gumman. You know it takes a bad boy to handle your brat," he joked as he slapped her bare bottom playfully, the first one to step through the door. 

Bjorn drug his feet as he entered but bent and kissed her lips, "No more brat tonight, please."

She winked at him, "What? You don't want to watch as Mikael works over my bare cunt with the tawse again, Master?"

Mikael chuckled at the groan from his baby brother and the raised eyebrows from his older. "What, old man? She don't bite, I promise. Though she does have a set of claws on her, but only if she is willing to risk the punishment that comes with using them."

He knew he was pushing both of his brothers. Perhaps they would both call him on it later, but for now he and his humor were the only ones capable of taking the lead and breaking the ice this night. And for her, he would willing pay the price later.

When his older brother did finally step through the door, she closed it behind him and dropped flawlessly to the floor on her knees between them. He stepped forward and stroked her hair with her head and eyes cast to the floor, "Good girl, elskling."

"Flenk Pia," Sven whispered as he lifted her chin and bent to kiss her lips. 

Bjorn frowned a bit and Mikael held his breath. He really did understand his baby brother. As the middle child, he could remember both sides of the coin when it came to their parents' unusual relationship. 

He had more than one memory of his mother throwing things at his father and uncles and of the bruises and broken bones that made his and Sven midnight rendezvous in the 'fighting field' look like a Wednesday night prayer meeting at the local church. Bjorn had never seen any of that though. So he had grown up with an idealized and unrealistic view of this whole damned tradition.

Not that Mikael was all that enamoured with the way things were after his baby brother's birth. In some ways it was worse. His mother's year-long battle with depression had left its scars on them all. Those dark days when all she did was lock herself in this bedroom with Bjorn, sew her quilts and pound away on the old type writer throughout most of the night until Stig or his father commanded her obedience to sleep. 

After that they had all treated her with kid gloves. And though Petrine might have outwardly appeared stronger than Rachel had been, they all knew...knew it was just a mask she wore as much for her own sanity as for them. 

Because he had never seen Rachel, it was easier for Bjorn to see only what he wanted to...the strength of Petrine, the tense peace between her husbands for her sake and the children's. A happy family that was not as happy as it appeared, except through the innocent eyes of a child. In some ways, Bjorn was still that child. 

Having lived through the hell and pain of disappointment and failure, Mikael hoped like hell his little brother stayed that way. And as he had when it came to dirty diapers and ramshackle forts, it was his job to have his little brother's back right now. To help him as he had on those first short fishing trips to find his sea legs here too. 

Mikael broke the ice once more and got things moving, "Lilla gumman, you know how much we all love seeing you naked like this," he shook his head at how quickly she blushed and even opened her mouth to deny it until Sven gave her one of those sterns looks that he used to control them all. "But this night I think you maybe just a tad too naked," he said as he reached into his back pocket for the present he had bought just for her. 

Her eyes went incredibly wide and her mouth fell open as she shook her head from side to side at the sight of the clover clamps. He smiled, as much as his little pain slut might fear them now he would bet any of them that by the end of the night she was begging and pleading him for more of her new favorite toy. 

Kirsty's tits were magnificent to begin with. Her nipples were sensitive to the lightest touch but able to take a great deal of intense pain too. He had spent plenty of time nibbling, chewing and even biting them. While she might not be used to the sudden and powerful pain of the spring loaded clovers, he had used a couple of other sets of clamps on the beauties, including some rather nasty looking teeth that left the prettiest patterns in her pale pink flesh. His cock hardened at the memory. 

"But I could use some help getting those sweet tits ready for these, don't you think little brother?" Though he knew that Bjorn still had difficulty with his sadist side especially when they shared her like this, his brother was beginning to accept that it was a part of the dynamic between him and their wife, something that she craved that Bjorn could not give her. So he was pleased to see him nod his head slowly.

"First though I think our little present needs wrapping nice and tight, what do you think, Sven?" 

His big brother smiled as he laced his fingers through her hair and tilted her head back to look up at him, "Ja, Kirsten. I think perhaps standing at the foot of the bed." 

Mikael loved those eyes even more when they widened as she nodded, "Ja, herre."

Sven tugged gently at her hair as he and Bjorn 

stepped forward to take her hands and lift her to her feet. Mikael left her to their care as he rummaged through the toy box for the things he knew she would enjoy most. One thing he was certain of...if each of them focused upon her pleasure and on giving her what only he could then they just might make it through this night without killing one another. 




Ægir's Wife Ch. 03



He first grabbed several lengths of rope and tossed them to both his brothers as they spread her arms wide between the wooden posts at the foot of the bed. They repeated the process at her feet. He smiled as he listened to their friendly debate about whether or not ones about her waist would be necessary. 

He laughed and called over his shoulder, "Who cares if it is necessary? Feel her cunt and you'll have the only answer you need." Laughter echoed off the dark wooden walls as they each wrapped rope about her waist and cinched it too to the bed posts. 

He selected the things that he thought they would need most and arranged them on the 'throne.' By the time he joined them, his confidence was rising as he handed Bjorn the large, thuddy flogger that he had learned bore the name Thor. "Get her butt warmed up with this. While Sven and I handle her front." 

He nodded his head and Sven followed him to the bed. Each of them approached her from one side of the bed. Mikael smiled at her as the first blow from the flogger landed on her bare bottom. "Feels good, doesn't it, elskling?"

***

Kirsty knew she was in trouble. Big trouble. Trouble times three. Delicious trouble. She sighed as she looked into the eyes of the man she knew was her ally in all this. "So fucking good, Sir."

She chuckled as Sven's brows knight together, "Language, young lady."

Mikael chuckled as he bent his darker head and captured her right nipple between his teeth. Her beloved sadist never did anything slow and easy as he bit down on the peak. She moaned and arched her back, a move that caused her bottom to jut out making the impact of Thor across its cheeks all the stronger. "Ohhhh..." she moaned as she closed her eyes. 

"Nei, Kirsten," his voice was firm as she felt her other nipple pinched between thumb and finger. 

She opened her eyes and turned to head to look up into his blue eyes, "Ja, Herre."

Mikael bit her nipple harder as he gave her that sexy sadist smile and managed somehow to speak without letting it go, "Not only are you talking too fucking much, lilla gumman, you are managing to do it two languages." He sucked it deeper into his mouth then released it with a loud pop as he sat back on his heels to admire his handy work. Before she even knew what was to come the shiny silver clamp sprang to life over her nipple and she screamed out at the instant, burning pain of the clovers. 

He smiled as he passed the one on the other end of chain to Sven. "That's better, much better, elskling. Baby brother, don't you think her butt is warmed up enough. Time for something with a bit more bite maybe?"

If the look that Sven gave Mikael was any indication, she was damned glad she could not see Bjorn's. While she and Mikael often played to this depth with pain games when they were alone, they had never gone this far in front of Bjorn...and now Sven was added to the mix. But rather than concern her, it only heightened her need...for pain as well as them. But it was up to her to make them understand that. "Please, Master. Yes, please, Hermóður." 

She felt Bjorn's nails run lightly across her bottom and moaned again at the intense feeling as Sven bent his head and suckled her nipple into his mouth at the same time. Her pussy was on fire already, she could feel the sticky wetness leaking down her thigh like molten lava flowing from Kilauea. And damned them for the ropes about her waist that stilled her movements and kept her from being able to rub against him even more. "Arghhhh..."

Mikael chuckled, "That's the language I love most, lilla gumman." He kissed her lips tenderly as Bjorn's nails scraped over the heated flesh of her bottom and Sven's teeth worried her turgid nipple. "See how wet she is, Bjorn?"

When his thick fingers trailed slowly down the crack of her ass and between her indecently splayed thighs, she strained as far as she could against the ropes, trying to draw them inside her. But rather than being rewarded with the thickness filling her, it was a solid stinging blow to her ass that caused her to jump. 

"No, sweetheart. You will come only when we give you permission." She felt Bjorn breath the words into her ears as he gave in and slipped Freya only knew how many fingers inside her. She cried out as he whispered, "You do NOT have permission to come, our beautiful slutty wife."

She turned her head to look into his Kelly greens eyes, prepared to beg and plead for misery. Until she saw that look...Bjorn's sadist may not enjoy giving her physical pain, but this was worse...so fucking much worse. Still she had to try, "Please, Master, oh please...I need to come so bad."

"Badly," he smiled as he corrected her English. 

But she was beyond caring, unable to intelligently communicate in any language. 

"Please, vær så snill, s'il vous plait," she begged.

He shook his head as the light blond lengths shook about his broad shoulders, "Not even if you manage to say it in German, Russian, Italian, Spanish and Mandarin. The answer is still no...nei...nein...nyet...méiyǒu." 

She whimpered as she stared into the resolve in his eyes as he bent to capture her lips in a gentle kiss that only made the aching need between her thighs and the sweet torture of Sven's lips, tongue and teeth on her nipple all the worse. 

But nothing prepared her for the shocking pain as Sven released her nipple from his mouth and popped the other clamp onto it. She screamed into Bjorn's mouth as she fought with everything inside of her not to come from her favorite mixture of pleasure and pain. She did not want to go through another night of denied orgasms...not with all three of them finally in her bed. 

Not after having waited for months for this moment. She was not going to spoil it...well, for her anyway. At least two of her sadistically loving husbands would probably enjoy it very much. And somehow, by some miracle, she managed it. Just barely though. 

Bjorn withdrew his fingers as he broke the kiss. He smiled as he stepped back just enough that their bodies no longer touched. He brought his fingers to her lips, but it was his oldest brother's voice that growled, "Good girls clean up their messes, Kirsten." 

She looked back and forth between them with a smile as she sucked two of Bjorn's fingers deep into her mouth. She took turns meeting each of their gazes as she toyed and licked all four of his fingers completely clean. If she was going to be in trouble, she was determined they would be too as she teased them with the image of something other than fingers between her lips. 

Mikael leaned forward and laced his fingers through her hair, tugging her head back until she stared only into his silvery depths, "Enough, my delightful brat. Enough with your teasing." He bent and kissed her cheek as he whispered, "All for you, elskling. Just for you because we love you. We all love you."

The tears in her eyes as Mikael drew back had very little to do with the fact that her beloved bad boy thought it appropriate to offset his sweet words with a massive dose of endorphins of another kind as he tugged on the chain between the clovers ratcheting the constant but bearable pain to blinding hot flames that licked from her nipples straight up to consume her whole brain.

Once more he leaned back on his hunches as he looked over her shoulder to Bjorn, "Warm her upper back and shoulders with the damned flogger until you raise red welts on it."

She turned enough to see Bjorn frown until she nodded her head and bit her lower lip, "Please, Bjorn."

He nodded and walked across the room to where Mikael must have set out the toys on that damned throne. She could not see everything that was on it, but she watched as Bjorn laid Thor across the arm of it, carefully shaking and combing out the falls. She sucked in a deep breath as he picked up Hermóður. 

"If you are a very good girl for baby brother, I think there might be a special surprise for you, lilla gumman," she turned back to watch Mikael as that smile split his handsome face. Oh, she was in such trouble here. As he turned to Sven, "Have you shown her your specialty?"

Sven shook his head as he smiled at her, "Nei."

Mikael caressed her cheek as she felt the first stingy blow of Hermóður land across her shoulders. "If Bjorn is sought after in the clubs for his skills with floggers, Sven is equally or more so for his...with the whip, elskling."

Her head swam at those words as another blow of the flogger connected and more of her juices slid down her thigh. She had never thought to try a whip. She chuckled and both Sven and Mikael gave her a stern stare as Bjorn landed an even more powerful blow with Hermóður. "What do you find funny, lilla gumman?" Mikael frowned as he caged her jaw with his fingers. 

She dropped her eyes like a good submissive before she replied, "I was just thinking about all those hard limits that I once thought were too much for me, Sir."

They all laughed and the deep, rich song echoed around the dark walls of the dungeon cum bedroom. "Our sweet, lovable wife, how many times must I tell you...what kind of Doms would we be if we did not push your limits, try your boundaries?" 

She nodded and closed her eyes, rubbing like a kitten against Mikael's fingers as another blow fell across her shoulder. "Yes, Sir. And I have such selfless Doms," she chuckled.

"And don't you..." Bjorn said as a blow landed across her shoulders. "Fucking," another fell on the other one. "Forget it," he said as another landed exactly in the middle. 

She moaned as she once more fought back another orgasm. It was getting harder and harder not to come. Mikael released her chin and she opened her eyes to see him move off the bed to join his younger brother behind her. She could not see what he was doing or hear what they said but she truly had to fight the need to come as she felt the cold, sharp steel begin to trace along the sensitive skin of her back. 

"Beautiful as always, baby brother. Come see, Sven. I think he has managed to warm her up very nicely for you."

Sven smiled at her and caressed her cheek as he challenged, "We shall see." Then he too joined them behind her and she was left to stare at the intricate red patterns of interlocking circles that she had learned from Petrine was called the wedding ring pattern. 

She smiled, though she knew that society and especially her mother might never understand or accept the bond that she shared with these men. She might never be able to actually stand in a church in front of god and everyone and proclaim her undying love for them. That did not matter. In her heart where it counted most of all, she knew...she was married to each of them...all of them. And this was her true wedding night.

Then it was Bjorn and Mikael who came to kneel in front of her on the bed, who caressed her face and took turns as they did turning her face, kissing her deeply until her head swam with confusion. Then she felt it...the first sting of a whip landed squarely between her shoulder blades. 

"Look at us, lilla gumman. Watch us as our brother uses his whip on that soft, white skin of yours," Mikael whispered.

"You will wear our marks for days, sweetheart. Hermóður's, the whip, Mikael's knife. Your sweaters will rub against them sometimes...and you will remember this night," Bjorn purred.

She smiled up at them with tears cascading down her cheeks, "I will remember this night always, my loves."

They smiled and each kissed a tear from her cheeks. "So will we," said Mikael as the impossibly loud crack of the whip warned her a fraction of a second before she felt the stinging blow. 

Bjorn leaned in and whispered, "Come for us, our sweet Freya." 

And the whole fucking world went black as she screamed out and her body spasmed in the truly most earth shattering orgasm she had ever felt that combined perfectly with the pain of Sven's whip and their gentle kisses and caresses as the ropes strained and their arms wrapped about her to keep her standing. She felt warm liquid gush and squirt, flooding the floor and likely wetting the quilt at the end of the bed as well as it went on and on and fucking on...forever. 

***

Sven chuckled as he began to loosen the bindings on her arms as his brothers held her semi-conscious and very spacey body up. "Changed my mind on your mind control crap, baby brother."

Mikael laughed as he slapped Bjorn on the back, "Damned straight, that was awesome."

Sven wrapped one arm over each of their shoulders and allowed his brothers to massage blood back into her extremities as he made quick work of ropes about her waist. He laughed as he bent to work on the ones around her ankles. "Damn, I think I might have to let her pass this once on good girls clean up their messes." He looked up at Bjorn, "Toss me your towel."

His brother scowled darkly, but again it was Mikael, who kept things light as he reached over and yanked it from Bjorn's waist. "Don't go all shy on us now, baby brother. In about two minutes we're all going to be holding her naked in this bed. And once we bring her out of subspace we're going to give new meaning to brotherly love." 

Sven shook his head as he used the towel to clean up the floor as Mikael bore her full weight for a moment as Bjorn got off the bed and scoped her into his arms and carried her back to it. The two of them sandwiched her between their bodies as they began to caress and kiss her back to reality. He just stood there...feeling decidedly out of place, reminded that the two of them had been doing this for months, sharing her and this bed, working as a team to care for the wife that he had abandoned. 

For a moment, he thought perhaps to just slip from the room while they were occupied with her. After all that had happened, did he really have any right to be here? Then Mikael caught his gaze and shook his head, "Don't you fucking dare. Not now, big brother." He rose from the bed, "You take over here, and I'll go downstairs for a few more things."

Sven shook his head, "No, it's is all right. I will get them."

"No, no, you won't. So get over here before she starts to come out of it and wonders where you are," he tossed Bjorn a stern look. "And you...play nice with our toy for two minutes while I am gone."

Bjorn chuckled as he drew one of her fingers into his mouth and smiled around it, "Or what? You'll tie me up and throw me in fjord? I'm not five anymore, I can hold my own these days."

Sven laughed as he took Mikael's place behind her. He unbuttoned his jean, which had been too fucking tight from the moment she fell to her knees on the floor between them. "Against us both?"

"No fighting," she whispered into his brother's neck as he wrapped his arm about her waist and nestled his hard cock between the cheeks of her ass. 

"Subs do not give orders, Kirsten. How many times must I tell you that?" he purred against her neck.

She turned her head and half smiled through what he could tell was a lazy haze that was still skirting the edges of subspace. "No, but wives do. Especially shieldmaiden ones...so fucking get used to it, old man."

Mikael bent over his shoulder and kissed her forehead, "And you be nice, brat, or you will feel fifty with the tawse on the bare cunt."

"And another twenty on your ass with the cane," Sven added.

"And three days of denial and edging, brat," whispered Bjorn with his golden head between her tits.

"Damn, baby brother, and I thought I was the fucking sadist," Mikael said as he turned and walked to the doorway.

Kirsty roused herself enough to smile at him as she wrapped one arm about Bjorn's head holding him in place as he nursed on first on and then the other of her nipples. She entwined the other with Sven's about her waist, their fingers laced and locked tightly together until his breath caught and froze like the icy fjord on the coldest, and darkest winter's night. 

His heart stopped beating in his chest. It was an intimacy he had never shared with anyone. A depth of connection he would have avoided at all cost with any other subs. But one that felt incredibly right with her. He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips as those words raced once more through his mind, he only barely managed to hold them back. Not here. Not with his brothers around. 

But soon... Very soon. He and their wife needed to have a talk. A real talk. And he had a very good idea how to get it stared. Something he had had his eye on for months. Though why he would ever have been looking at collars was beyond him. But time and time again, he had found himself visiting the same profile on the site where they met. A sub that crafted the most beautiful collars that could easily pass for a simple necklace unless you looked closely to notice the charms that were handcuffs, whips, floggers and keys among others. Yes, maybe it was about time they all made this thing official.



Ægir's Wife Ch. 04



Kirsty floated on billowing clouds of bliss ensconced in the warm, comforting embrace of her husbands. She tried to remember a time when she was this content and happy. But she could not. 

Bjorn was gently nibbling, sucking and licking her nipples, re-igniting flames which after that massive orgasm should have been dormant or at least dulled. Sven too was flaming those embers as he kissed along her shoulders, neck and ears. His breath was incredibly hot as he whispered things in her ear that were beyond her comprehension. Perhaps if her mind was more clear she could glean enough to get the gist of it, but the feel of rough denim and his hard cock throbbing between the cheeks of her ass gave a pretty decent translation in its own right. 

Mikael chuckled as he entered her bedroom carrying a tray with water, juice and her favorite...Bjorn's homemade chocolate chip cookies. Even Petrine admitted that her youngest son was a better cook than even she was. Cordon blu chef, Oxford scholar, sexy as hell male model and a damned good lover, the man was the total package. 

"You out for the count already, elskling?" Mikael teased.

She chuckled, well maybe not. Her sweet Master worried way too much about hurting her. Something that for a masochist, which she was finally coming to accept was part of her nature, pain was as necessary as air, food and water. No, for her almost daily dose of that she must turn to Mikael. The man had no compunction about hurting her and was more than happy to test the depths of that need too. 

Her fingers ran along the callouses on Sven's fingers. So what need did he fulfil? Because after the distance of the past three months, there could be no doubt that she needed him every bit as much as she did his younger brothers. 

A secretive smile formed at the corner of her lips, control. Mister Cool, her Atlas, brought her mind calm and the perfect balance, even in the whirlwind of lust and need every single time they were together. Just hours before, she had hungered for the man so deeply that she had been willing to risk the sting of rejection on the hope of reconciliation. She was glad she had too. 

She laughed as she rubbed her bottom against Sven and thrust her breasts even more into Bjorn's face. All three of them moaned in pleasure and need. "I don't know...I might be able to stay awake...just long enough for cookies and milk, of course."

Mikael laughed at Sven's solid slap in her outer thigh, "Oh, I think that is big brother's way of telling you to be good my precious brat."

Kirsty was tempted to give another smart mouthed response just for the sweet taste of pain, but then she felt Bjorn's hard cock brush against her bare cunt. No, she had tasted pain, though she could always find room for another serving of her favorite dessert. But she had only sampled pleasure briefly this night. 

How many nights had she lain in this bed alone while they were at sea imagining this very thing? All three of her husbands. For a time, it had seemed an impossible dream. Even when Bjorn and Mikael had finally put their differences aside enough to see to her needs first, it had never seemed complete. Not without him. But even Sven was here this night...and she would not waste another moment of it on silly games. Only adult ones. 

Thanks to Raquel Graffen's naughty novels, she knew just which one too. She shoved at Bjorn's shoulders until he grumbled but eventually the genius got the idea and rolled onto his back. That was all it took too as she sank down fully onto his cock. 

Mikael roared with laughter, "Seems it only took Sven one barehanded slap to get your ass moving. Why does it take the tawse with me, lilla gumman?"

She stuck out her tongue, "Because you like brats."

All of them chuckled deeply as she began to move sensually on Bjorn. Mikael held out a bottle of water, "Here, drink this. I think after that explosion earlier you need to replenish your liquids."

But she was in too playful a mood to be distracted by Mister Caring Sadist as she reached out and jerked at the top button of his jeans. It gave way with little trouble as she ripped at the zip, but he shook his head and pushed her hand aside firmly, "I'll feel safer if you let me do that. You may be a masochist but I am not, especially when it comes to certain sensitive places, my sweet wife."

"Then hurry damn it," she looked over her shoulder at Sven, "You too. Both of you are overdressed."

Sven chuckled, "I see the toffelhjälten have allowed you to forget your place, young lady." His fingers laced through her hair as he came up on his knees next to her. Icy blue eyes met her, "No more. I will teach you to respect your husbands."

She smiled, "I respect them. But if you don't like my smart mouth might I suggest a way of putting it to better uses, Sir." To emphasis her point, her fingers danced across the front of his jeans until his hand cover hers.

"Do not think I have forgotten your impertinence, Kirsten. I will not, but your suggestion has certain merits to it," he smiled as he unfastened his jeans and pushed them down his legs, kicking them to floor next to the bed. 

Kirsten ground her pelvis in slow circles on Bjorn's cock, taking him as deeply as she could as her fingers wrapped around the heated steel of Sven's erection. She stroked him slowly and sensuously to prolong this moment for as long as she possibly could, just as she knew her erotic dance on Bjorn's cock did more to torture him than to give relief. No, relief was not what she had in mind at that moment. 

"What, Mikael, did you miss your invite to this party? I am sure it did not get lost in the post because I prefer to hand deliver them," her fingers trailed down Sven's cock then gently caressed his balls until he moaned and thrust into her touch. 

Mikael finished pushing his jeans off and stepped from them, leaving them to lay on the floor at the foot of her bed. "As much as I like your hand jobs, sweetheart, I seem to remember that someone needs her mouth put to better uses."

Sven smiled as his finger laced through her hair turned her head and he drank from her lips, "You heard my brother. Show us why we should not punish you for that big mouth of yours, Kirsten."

Kirsty took up the challenge with a saucy smile as Mikael joined them on the other side of the bed, "Because, Sirs, big mouths can do things like this," she ground her pubic bone against Bjorn's rock hard cock and softly tugged Sven's balls as she bent forward and swallowed most of Mikael's.

"Fuck, woman, where the hell did you learn that?" he cursed as his hips thrust forward burying another inch in her throat until she began to gag. 

Bjorn shook his head as his hands on her hips began to increase the pace just a bit. Sven chuckled, "It most definitely was not me."

Her lips let go of Mikael's cock long enough to smile innocently as she replied, "You would be surprised what you can find if you type 'how to deep throat' into a search engine."

Bjorn laughed and it drove his cock deeper inside her, making her gag once more on Mikael's cock as her hand continued to stroke Sven. "Oh, I know. Why do you think I fell in love with the World Wide Web the moment my father gave me a computer? Bless him, the man had no idea how to set the security for teens. You can learn just about anything on the damned thing. Anything except how incredibly hot, wet and tight your cunt feels wrapped around my cock, baby girl."

She smiled around Mikael's cock in her mouth, so that explained how the hell the man had been such an amazing lover even though he was a virgin when he came to her bed. Not that she had that much more experience than he did at that point. 

And not that she could say much about the internet, most of what she learned had come from her raunchy e-books...porn for women. Soldiers, cowboys, aliens and of course her all-time favorite...Vikings, she had devoured them all. Never believing that she would have the opportunity to actually practice all those things she had learned in books. Certainly not on three hot husbands.

But damn, Graffen made it sound so much easier than it was...pleasuring three men at once. She had to constantly remind herself to stroke Sven's cock while she sucked Mikael's. Thankfully, Bjorn seemed to have taken the lead with his hands on her hips guiding her movements at the perfect pace to keep them both on the edge without going over. 

It felt good, damned good, amazing in fact. Bjorn's cock buried deep in her pussy, tasting Mikael's and feeling Sven's. She knew this was an experience of a lifetime, one that most women would never have. So why did it feel incomplete somehow? As if there were more...something was missing. 

Sven bent forward his tongue licked and swirled around her ear for a moment before his fingers pinched her nipple hard just as the other hand slipped between her ass cheeks. "Something is not quite right, Kirsten," he whispered as he slipped a finger inside her ass. She fought back the orgasm as her pussy got even tighter. 

"Please," she whispered, "yes, please, Sir."

***

Sven worked his fingers deeper inside her ass, adding a second one now. His mind battled. It had been the fantasy they shared. How many times had he teased her with the image of Bjorn's cock in her cunt, Mikael face fucking her, while he slipped his cock deep in her ass? He wanted that so fucking badly.

But did he deserve it...after how he lost control that first time. How he had abused her trust and humiliated her that night. How he had abandoned her for months rather than finding the courage to face the feelings that this woman evoked in him. 

What's more, did he trust himself? Not to lose control again. He was certain that his brothers would not allow him to hurt her. It was not that. But if it came to that, he would spoil her special night. Why the hell did this woman have his guts in knots? She was the only person to ever make him feel...this strongly any way. 

What was he going to do? He looked up at Mikael to discover his brother watching him. He withdrew his fingers reluctantly which caused their wife to whimper as she rode his little brother's cock even harder. "Please...please!"

He swallowed at the tightness in his throat before speaking to Mikael, "I think our wife needs a cock in her ass too."

Mikael shook his head, "Then what you waiting for, Old Man. I'm enjoying the blow job of the century. Lube is at the foot of bed."

Sven sighed, was he really going to pass up this opportunity? He had wanted this very thing for so long. When he considered sharing her like this, as they all knew they must eventually, it was always like this. Anal had always been among his favorite fetishes but never once had he tried double penetration. 

Sven reached for the lube. He would just play a bit while his mind worked it over. Give her pleasure and he knew it did, even as rough as that first time had been she had been so fucking responsive. It was as if her tight, virgin ass had been milking his cock then. Gods be damned, he wanted to feel that again, he thought as he poured the warmed oil down the crack of her ass. 

Kirsty arched her back and moaned as he went back to gently stretching her with first one then two fingers as she rode Bjorn. He massaged her shoulders with the other hand and whispered every dark need he had in her ear. So low his brothers could not hear, in his language so she could not know his depth of need for her. 

This time he did not rush, just enjoying playing with her, watching and listening to her reactions. Her whimpers told him that they held her incredibly close to the edge. Of course, three little words from any of them would send her over. 

Orgasm control and conditioning had never been something he would have considered with his subs. All that he believed warned him of the depths of commitment and responsibility that it required of the Dom and its dangers to the sub. There were stories of women, who were unable to orgasm again after their relationship with the Dom, who trained them. Of course, that did not happen all the time, but he had heard enough of those cases to be leery...especially with women who had been temporary at best. 

But she was different. She always had been from the first time he sat down and messaged her on that damned computer. She was such a fucking elixir of innocence and wanton responsiveness. And such a willing pupil, he had never trained anyone as open and teachable as she had been from that first challenge. Had he ever stood a chance of keeping this one at arm's length? 

Had any of them? They owed her so fucking much for the changes in Mikael and Monika alone. But it did not stop there. She had awaken their mother from her decades long trance, brought the woman back to life, pulled her from the depths of her grief and depression as nothing any of them had done ever could. 

The simple, hard truth hit him then. They needed her. He needed her. It was the strangest sensation. Utterly frightening as hell that he who had never really needed anyone for as long as he could remember anyway...he needed this woman. Her smiles. Her laughter. Her moans. 

His fingers worked deeper inside her tight ass eliciting another of them as she ground back against his hand. Her whimper was so fucking sweet as she turned her head and looked up at him with those big blue eyes that were deeper than the oceans he fished...and just as full of life. "Please, Sir. Please, Sven."

His fingers laced through her hair pulling her head back, angling it perfectly as he studied her face for any sign of fear, of reservation. "Are you sure, Kirsten?"

"Damn it, what do I have to do or say? Fuck my ass, Sven. Fuck it like you promised all those times you teased me. Quit playing and fucking do it," she demanded.

His lips captured hers in a brutal kiss. She would pay for this. Later. She had broken so many protocols. The cursing. Using his name instead of Sir...something no other sub ever dared. But none of that fucking mattered at this moment. All that mattered was her, her need, and fucking yes, his own. 

He withdrew his fingers, but only for a moment. He poured more of the oil on his hard cock as his hand on her back pushed her forward onto his baby brother's chest. He lined his cock up and was about to enter her when Bjorn shifted, pulling her away. Before he could say a word, it was Mikael, who spoke. 

***

Mikael was on instant alert even before Bjorn could move. He recognized that angry, crazed look in his baby brother's eyes the instant that he had become truly aware of the conversation between Sven and their wife. Some part of him even agreed with his brother, but he bit that concern back. 

This was their big chance. Not just with her, but for her. If they could for a couple of hours put all their differences aside and think only of what she wanted...what she fucking needed, then they could begin to form the deeper bonds that would hold their unusual family together...come what may. 

And he could not allow his worries or Bjorn's to destroy this opportunity. He placed a restraining hand on the man's shoulder as he struggled to lift himself and her body weight. Mikael was glad that his brother had been laying on his back, otherwise he might never have been able to stop him. As it was, his baby brother turned those flaming green eyes towards him with the same vitriol that he had with Sven.

"It is her choice to make," was all he said.

Bjorn shook his head and made to rise up again Mikael pushed harder against Bjorn's shoulder. "She damn well knows that we have her back if or when she needs us, but this has to be her decision."

He could see that even that was not really registering with Bjorn and Mikael knew that they were on the very edge of disaster. "Don't spoil this for her," he whispered in a low voice so that Sven and Kirsty, who were otherwise occupied at that moment, could not hear. He saw his baby brother hesitate and knew that he had broken through to him. 

Mikael smiled and pushed Kirsty forward just a bit further on Bjorn's chest, lifting her ass enough that Sven could easily slip his cock inside it. He gloried in his role as the director of this little scene, especially as he watched the ecstasy on all three of their faces. 

He could almost read their minds. Though with Sven he did not really have to use much imagination, he knew personally exactly how tight Kirsty's sweet ass was with their baby brother's cock buried in her cunt. Bjorn usually preferred to be the anchor. Mikael smiled as he reminded himself to switch things up a bit. Let baby brother fuck her ass or mouth next time. He certainly would not mind a chance to fuck her pussy while one of his brother's took that ass. 

But it was her face that he cued upon. He had never seen her more beautiful. Her face radiated sheer joy...and contentment. He knew then that she was theirs...totally and completely. Theirs to have...and to protect. 

He loved her with a depth he had never imagined then. He bent down and kissed her lips as he whispered, "Jeg elsker deg." The look in her eyes and smile on her face told him that she knew exactly what he had said. That there was no need to translate those words. 

She opened her mouth perhaps to return his words of love, but he would never know as Sven surged forward and her eyes closed, her back arched and the only sound escaping her sweet mouth was an incredibly loud moan. 

Mikael shook his head and smiled. He was not going to miss the fun as he instead slid his hard cock between those open lips and enjoyed the feel of the vibrations at the back of her throat as his older brother began thrust deeper in her tight ass. 

He tried to concentrate, to savor each and every moment of this once in a lifetime experience, a first, but that was not possible with those sweet moans scattering along every nerve ending in his cock to a befuddled brain that begged to plunge even deeper into her throat. He was not sure if it was minutes or hours, only that it was heaven itself and over too fucking quickly. 

Mikael laced his fingers through those flames of glory and tilted her head just perfectly as he watched his baby brother's face tighten in what he had learned was the final throes of his ecstasy. He was determined that Bjorn would not be alone in his pleasure, "Come for us, our sweet Freya," he commanded. 

Those intense blue eyes widened and her moans turned to screams. His cock would have popped from her mouth if not for him thrusting his hips forward and burying another inch in her throat. He felt her explosion along his spine as his own began to boil up from deep within his soul as much as his balls. 

He fought back his own pleasure to enjoy theirs as Sven buried his cock fully inside their wife and threw back his head with a loud groan at the same time his baby brother joined the symphony of pleasure. But it was her that held his interest. Words could not come close describing her then. 

Only one seemed to fit this moment...complete. Somehow this felt so incredibly right. Together, they had put their differences and own needs aside to give her what none of them could alone. And it felt perfect, the way it should be. 

Mikael fought the lump in his throat at all the years he had fought this very thing. Not that he would have wanted this with Greta. His ex-wife was much too selfish for intimacy, especially this level of intensity. But with her, with Kirsty, it was like really living and loving for the first time in his time. She had given that to him. To them, he realized as he looked at his brothers' faces, which mirrored his own sense of completion and love. 

For perhaps the first time since he stepped abroad Ægir's Captive as a little boy, he felt like he belonged. Belonged to her, with her. Just as she did with them. Them. That was not the bad thing he had imagined it would be. In this place and moment, there was no room for insecurity, doubts or jealousy...only love. Her love that made them all whole and complete. 




Ægir's Wife Ch. 04



There was so much he wanted to tell her, but only one word would come out, "Takk." It was totally inadequate and as right as the woman staring up at him as he caressed her cheek and slowly drew his half hard cock from between her lips. 

***

Bjorn held his wife in his arms as he relished the final tremors and aftershocks of her powerful orgasm. Her cunt still periodically spasmed around his cock as Mikael withdrew from her mouth and caressed her cheek. 'Takk,' the word seemed so fucking inadequate for what had happened this night, but he could not think of a better one. Not in any of the almost dozen languages that he knew. 

And even if he could, he was not certain that he could force it past the tight lump in his throat as he watched his oldest brother bury his head between her shoulders. He realized what Sven was doing...hiding from the intense emotions that she seemed destined to stir in all of them. For once, he could empathize with the man. 

He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead for a long moment as he held her tightly. No, words were completely inadequate for this moment. But he used the only ones he could think of, "I love you, princess."

Even though her eyes never opened and she said nothing, he could see the secretive smile that curled on her lips as she squeezed him just a bit tighter. Not even her weight or the partial weight of his older brother registered as he gloried in this moment. 

But even in the perfection of that moment, his mind would not rest for long. The conflict and darkness that he hid from everyone, even her most of time, began to assail him. He wanted to wish them away then. Just hold and protect her alone as his jealousies began to assault his senses. 

Over the last few weeks, he had barely managed to control them with Mikael, the man who had been not just his big brother, but his protector and almost surrogate parent as a child. A man, who after that rough couple of weeks in the beginning, clearly loved and adored their wife with the same ferociousness that he did. 

But Sven? Having him here was a totally different matter. Despite Mikael's words, it had been an intense battle with his demons not to beat the shit out of his oldest brother. As far as he was concerned, Sven had no right to be here at all. Nothing had changed. He had not proven himself, the way Mikael had over time. 

And especially not that. When he had realized Sven intent, he had almost lost complete control as he had only once before. He knew the blind rage that had sent two older boys to the hospital when he was barely six. He knew what his strength was capable of doing when fuelled by that kind of hatred. But this was not distant cousins cornering him in an alley way, it was his brother. More importantly, it was in front of her.

She had invited Sven. That was the only thing that had stopped him in the end. Kirsty. The look on her face. Her breathy words, pleading with his brother. Those had held him back, kept his anger in check long enough for Mikael's words to register. Her choice. He hated that too. But Mikael was right, this had to be her choice. 

And he had to respect it. Even as much as he wanted to take control from her. Make the decision for them all. In the name of protecting her. Protecting and caring for her was the strongest instinct he had ever had...stronger even than the blind rage and darkness dwelling inside of him. Tonight proved that. 

Still something inside of him fought it. His. He had chosen her, it screamed. 

But the tightness in his chest and his intellect belied that point. He may have chosen her, but it was Sven, the man who was more stranger than brother that had made the final decision. That had chosen to bring her abroad this ship. Had taken her. 

Hell, even Mikael had claimed her before he had. Mikael, who could give her what he could not bring himself to...the pain she not just craved but needed. He sighed...and Mikael, who in the end had carried the mantle he had tossed aside in his own selfish need to possess their wife. Mikael, who had fought alongside her to bring them all together. To make their family whole, the way that he had once dreamt they could be. 

He felt petty and small then. He had let her down. He had come close to failing them all...out of his own insecurities and selfishness. 

But he could do something about that now as he watched Sven recover enough to slip from her tight ass. Bjorn winced and gritted his teeth as he actually felt his brother's movement, making just a bit more room in her tight cunt. He frowned as Sven bent and kissed the side of her neck. He strained to hear as he whispered, "Thank you, Kristen," in their wife's ear. The fact that his brother chose to use English told him as much as the words themselves ever could. 

She rose up off his chest enough to open her eyes, "My pleasure," she replied with a snarky grin that earned her a slap on her ass from Sven. A slap that made him growl as it drove her further down on his cock that was still nestled inside her.

This was always the awkward part. Even worse than the beginning. Even when it was just him and Mikael, once the 'main event' was over, well, it just was not the same as when they were alone with her. After glow and cuddles were not group activities. Somehow it just felt more intimate than the act itself. 

Usually that meant Mikael making an excuse to check on Monica and slipping from her bedroom, just as he saw his brother reaching for his jeans on the floor next to him now. But this time that did not feel right. It was Mikael, who had kept his anger in check. Mikael, who had joked, kidded and goaded them through every awkward moment. Mikael, who in the end had never given up on the idea of them being united as a real family. No, he had to face the truth...it was his brother, who deserved to hold their wife, care for and commiserate with her. 

He reached out his hand and grabbed Mikael's wrist as his brother picked his jeans up off the floor. "No, you stay."

Mikael's face scrunched into a frown, "No, it is fine. I should check on Monica anyway." But Bjorn heard the longing in his voice, knew the truth. Hell, only Sven would want to run and hide now, then again his oldest brother always did when emotions were involved. But Bjorn knew Mikael wanted very much to be the one this time to hold her in his arms as she fell asleep. 

And he was not taking 'no' for an answer this time as he brushed a kiss on her cheek as she started to lay her head back on his chest as usual. "Don't get comfortable just yet, princess," he whispered as he forced himself to lift her lethargic body off him. He groaned a bit as his cock slipped from her welcoming warmth, but he persisted and rolled her onto her side. 

She roused then enough to question him, "What? Where are you going?"

"Back to my room tonight, sweetheart. I think it's Mikael's turn to share your bed," he saw by her soft smile that their wife would not argue the point with him as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips and whispered her good nights.

He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked for the towel until he remembered that Sven had used it earlier to clean up when her orgasm exploded all over the floor. 'Never mind,' his room was not that far as he stood. "I don't need to tell you, take good care of her, big brother."

Mikael smiled and ruffled his hair in the same irritating way he had when they were kids, though admittedly it was less troublesome now somehow. "No, you don't, kiddo. And thanks."

Bjorn shrugged, "You deserve it." As he headed towards the door, he saw Mikael take his place in the bed and scope her into his arms. He watched as his brother forced their wife to take a drink of the water he had brought up earlier. He smiled at the concerned way his brother fused over her, as badly as he did his daughter. 

"She'll be fine," Sven said as he held open the door, clad now in his jeans.

Bjorn nodded and walked through it first, but he turned to face his oldest brother as Sven pulled it closed behind them. He squared his shoulders and rose up to his full height, which gave him a couple of inches advantage over him. Other men might have been intimidated facing down an opponent naked, but he was not as he stared directly into his brother's icy cold blue eyes, "Do NOT ever hurt her again."

That was all he said. He did not wait for a reply, because honestly at this point there was none that Sven could give, which he would believe. Instead he turned his back and simply walked to his room. Butt naked and proud. He opened the door and stepped inside his sanctuary before closing the door behind him and collapsing against it. His head banged on the hard wood as if to knock some sense into him.

Damn it! This night, this whole fucking day, had been a total mind fuck. His body was exhausted, but his mind was running at the speed of light trying to process it all, make sense of even some of it, and figure out where he stood now. He forced his feet to cover the short distance to his bed. The bed he would sleep in alone this night. Fuck, he should not have been so damned noble. This would be so much easier if he were holding her in his arms right now. 

But he was not. That would have to wait...for another time. He laid down and stared at the ceiling for hours, seeking answers that only Fate would provide.

***

Kirsty smiled as she snuggled closer into Mikael's arms. Her body ached in the most delicious of ways. Every single tiny movement was a reminder of the gloriously intense experience that she had shared with all of them the night before. She had no idea exactly what time it was since her room had no windows, but her mind told her it was later than usual. Her body told her it was rested. And ready for...more. 

Her hand slipped beneath the quilt as she caressed the firm muscles of his abdomen, moving lower and lower so slowly that it was torture to her as much as him. Her fingers were a hair's breadth from the soft steel that was her ultimate goal when his hand covered them and stopped her progress. 

His silky smooth voice caressed her mind as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head, "Behave, lilla gumman."

She looked up into those silvery depths that glistened with mirth, "Where is the fun in that, Sir?"

He laughed and it tinkled like Christmas bells in her mind, "Do I need to use the tawse on that bare cunt?"

She shook her head as her fingers stretched just enough to brush the very tip of her goal and make her husband tremble as he released a long sigh, "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of some of your vanilla lovemaking, Sir."

"What sacrilege, woman," he teased as he rolled her beneath him. His hands slowly began to caress and cup her breasts. His thumbs brushed across her nipples and she sucked in a deep breath, "Still sensitive from the clovers, elskling."

She nodded, "A bit, but you know I loved them."

He bent his head and licked them tenderly as flames licked upwards consuming her mind and sending tendrils of heat branching lower across her stomach and wrapping about her core until she arched upwards brushing against his thigh. She moaned when she did not find the relief she sought.

"Impatient again, væsla?" he teased as he continued the gentle torture as she whimpered and moaned. Her hands gripped his shoulders until her nails buried themselves in his skin. He nipped at the end of her nipple, holding it tenderly between his teeth as he shook his head, "Twenty-five with the tawse for that...but not this morning."

He released her sensitive flesh and raised his head, staring into her eyes as he shifted his hips and gave her the relief she needed, sliding deep inside of her as she whimpered in need. "Someone said they wanted vanilla lovemaking, didn't she?" he chuckled.

"Fuck, Mikael, please! Please, Sir?" she bit her bottom lip as she fought back the orgasm that loomed like a thunder cloud over the horizon.

He stilled inside of her, fully seated deep in her depths but unmoving even the least little bit. Other than the pounding of the blood through his hard cock, which she swore she could feel in the quiet of the morning. "No, Kirsty. Not this time. No commands. No control. Just lovers. A man showing his wife how much he loves her."

He began to move so slowly that at first she was not even sure he was at all. She clutched his shoulders even tighter as he made to withdraw. She felt the muscles in her pussy tighten about his shaft too, protesting his betrayal. She ground her hips against him and cried out as her clit brushed against the base sending her over the edge. 

He buried his face in her neck as he plunged deeper inside of her, "Fuck, yeah, Kirsty! Just like that. Damn, you feel so fucking good," he groaned as he took up a rhythm that had them both moaning and crying out in pleasure. 

If there had been in doubt if her body could still respond to a lover without the conditioning, without their commands, they laid it to rest then as Mikael took her over the peak time and time again. Loving her thoroughly and so completely that both collapsed back into a peaceful slumber with his body still half entwined with hers and his cock still buried inside her fertile pussy.

***

Kirsty paced her room. She knew that she could not put this off any longer. It was time. Past time. But still it was not easy to let get of the career she had once loved. It was not fair though to keep Roz and the whole department in limbo. Truth was she had a new life here and she did not want to go back to the old one. So why was it so hard to hit the send button on the resignation letter that she had written months ago? 

Especially now. The past few days had been perfection. After than morning, Mikael had insisted that she not 'waste' her nights calling him. Bjorn needed her reassurance and comfort in a way that he did not. 

And Sven? Well, he insisted that his big brother needed her too. So he had selflessly taken a back seat to their needs. Not that they had not found time to steal moments away from work and Monica. That damned fort was definitely getting re-built in the spring. She was determined on that one.

Her hand drifted to her stomach with a deep frown. It was the only thing that kept her world from being perfect. A baby. She wanted that more now than she ever had. She had even gotten over her early fears about what 'people' would think. The only 'people' that mattered to her were the ones right here on the Holding. 

Although she did agree with her mother, a few things around here needed to change. Top among them, primogeniture. Sven could shove his need for 'sons.' She did not give a fuck if she birthed nothing but half a dozen girls. Yes, she knew the seas were rough. Yes, she had spent enough nights massaging and soothing away aches and pains in all of them to know how tough their jobs were. But that did not mean women could not do them too. 

The other thing that they could shove was 'claiming' her children. She and Petrine had talked long and hard about that one over the months. She was the first of the brides that actually had the power to end that silly tradition. A painless swab would settle the paternity of any child once and for all, something that had never before been possible with such a high degree of accuracy when it came to brothers. The question was...did she want that? Did she really want one of them walking around pounding his chest with bragging rights every time she gave birth? 

She fingered the buttons on her phone once more. No, those were minor enough things that could be ironed out in time. The truth was this was her home now. The only real home she had ever had honestly. She loved her husbands. All of them. Exactly the same and completely differently. She was even coming to accept that they loved her too.

Though of course her Atlas, Mister Cool would not bend enough to admit his feelings. But she and Petrine had discussed that one too over tea in the greenhouse that stood as statement to those struggles. It was the coldest day of the year, the wind howled and snow whipped about them as icicles sometimes close to a meter long hung from bare tree branches. She had commented on how toasty warm it was inside the greenhouse. 

The tears had begun to flow once more down Rachel's face. It was funny but even she was beginning to recognize the difference between the strong, intelligent woman that was the mask her mother had crafted to face the tough realities of her life...and the vulnerable woman-child that still existed deep beneath its shroud. She both admired and pitied her...them both, she supposed.

With those tears had flowed the story of the love she had shared with the man, who built this place. The man, with the golden boy looks that his son had inherited and the cold aloofness of the one he had adopted. 

It was a combination that Kirsty knew she could have never broken through. Even as tender and open as Bjorn was, there were still moments when they were lying in bed talking and she looked up at him and thought...'what could a man like this possibly see in someone like me?' Had those drop dead gorgeous face and body been combined with Sven's cool reserve she would have never for a single moment been able to handle the doubts that would destroy any chance of happiness in the end.

But the one thing that had helped her to understand both Stig and Sven better was when Petrine expounded upon the different cultures. Evidently the words 'jeg elsker deg' bore far more significance than their simple translation of 'I love you.' 

While Petrine spoke of the ease with which the word 'love' had been used on the commune as she grew up, Kirsty had tried to remember even a single time that she had ever heard those words...before Bjorn anyway. She could not. But these Nordic descendants of those mighty Viking conquers seemed even more stingy with those words. 

So it was no surprise that Stig had such trouble with words. It was more surprising that Olaf, his son and Bjorn did not. Those words held far more weight, were far more precious, than in either the US or her own British cultures. They were sacred even, not to be tossed about lightly. Even if the sentiment behind them was genuine. 

It had been easier for the man to put hundreds or thousands of hours into building his wife an impregnable fortress and filling it with the sweet smell of exotic lilies, roses and her favorite wild flowers than it had been to say three simple words. 

Kirsty had sipped her tea and pondered it. Could she truly be happy if Sven never used those words? She certainly heard them often enough from Bjorn...in close to a dozen different languages. Mikael too, though her sadist tended to use his humor to deflect and lighten the impact a bit. Perhaps even he was not as comfortable expressing his emotions as it appeared. 

She mulled that question over as she stared at the keypad on her phone. Yeah. Yes, she could be happy here with them. With him. Even if she never heard those words. The past few days had proven that. As she hit the call button and waited for Roz to pick up. Yes, it was past time that this was settled. It was time she moved forward and quit looking back at a place she had never truly belonged in anyway.

"Hello, Roz. Yes, yes, I know. I promise you by the end of the week. You will have my reply about the job by then."

***

Sven fingered the beautifully delicate necklace. The damned thing was as much a piece of art as her collar. The chain that was shorter and thicker than most necklaces would wrap tightly about her neck. 

He had made sure of that when he measured it, sort of anyway. He had actually used the rope that they had played with the other night as a guide, marking it as he measured off the anchor that fit perfectly about her neck so that the knot rested just on top of the spot where her collar bones came together. That way she would have no idea what he was up to. 




Ægir's Wife Ch. 04



His charm, a length of rope with his birthstone in the middle, would dangle at the very spot his knot had that night. A couple of inches to the left dangled a dagger with Mikael's birthstone at the hilt of handle. He had swallowed his anger at his middle brother's brash use of the damned thing to mark her breast long enough to order the charm anyway. For Bjorn, it had been a flogger also with his birthstone in the handle. There was even a music note with Monika's. 

He sighed as he rubbed the intricate white gold links between his fingers. He hoped with his whole heart that he would be ordering another link within the year. For their child. 

He smiled as he placed the necklace in the pocket of his coat. It was absolutely perfect, just like she was. He just prayed that they would have many years of adding new charms before any were lost. His mother's was almost bare these days, only her son's and Olaf's remained. 

He remembered her face each time she had pressed a charm into the stiff, cold hands of her husbands. Of course, he had not even been born when she had done the same to his own father. He swallowed at the pain and fear that always accompanied that thought. But today was not about those ancient hurts. No, it was about love. Valentine's Day. There could be no more perfect day for her collaring. 

Maybe he should have consulted his brothers first, but then too Bjorn had not consulted him before messing in her mind with that orgasm control and conditioning shit. And Mikael had certainly not consulted them before putting his mark on the flawless alabaster skin of her breast. Besides he seriously doubted either would object to this...his mark upon their wife. 

No, it was not the collar that had his stomach in knots and his chest so tight that he was not certain how he was even able to breathe. It was those words. "Æ ælske dæ." They had just slipped out that first time. And never once in their nights together this past few days had she mentioned them. Whether it was because like him, she was not ready to face such complexities or because she had forgotten them, he had not. He could not.

Honestly, they were a complication he had never expected to face. 'Love' just was not something that was necessary in his life. Or so he had thought until... Well, he was still not sure exactly when he has fallen in love with his wife. 

From the moment, she had responded so openly, honestly and innocently to that first challenge, he had felt an excitement that no other sub had ever elicited in him. And from the moment he had seen her, touched her, listened to her laughter, it had only intensified. Claiming her that first time had certainly shaken him as no other sexual experience ever had. 

No matter how fucking hard he had fought it. Fighting loving this woman was like trying to hold your breath. You could only do it for so long until the burning pain in your lungs forced you to gasp and draw huge lungs full of fresh air into them. And that was what she was...fresh air...for all of them. 

No, she deserved to hear those words. To know how he felt about her. He may never be fully counted among the toffelhjälten. He might never be the besotted lover like his baby brother. Or even the funny man that Mikael was with her. He was certain that those words would be rare and never come easy for him. But he would not wait for his death bed...or hers...to say them either. 

Now he just had to find the courage to deliver the speech that he had been practicing for days, since the moment he had ordered her collar...and paid a small fortune to make certain it arrived in time for this day. He smiled as he realized there was a skip in his step as he covered the short distance between the boat and the Holding. 

As he climbed the stairs, he actually found himself humming the tune of a ridiculously sappy love song that had been translated from Norwegian into English. Though the hair color in the song was all wrong for her, the rest certainly fit. He had never felt so connected to her...to his family...to the Holding. For the first time, he truly felt alive without being at sea and battling Njord. 

He was so caught up in excitement that he threw open the door to her room without knocking. He stopped in the doorway. His heart stopped beating. Air froze in his lungs, "I promise you by the end of the week. You will have my reply about the job by then." 

Sven tried to swallow the foul taste that bubbled up in his throat. He tried to quiet the raging storm that howled through his mind. He tried to still the trembling in his hands that hung limply at his side. None of them seemed capable of responding to his brain. What little was left of the damned thing.

Job? What job? She had not asked any of them permission to take a job here. No, according to his mother, they could not get her into town after that first bad experience with their blasted 'cousins.' The men had been their bane of existence their whole lives. So it did not make sense that she was talking about a job in the village and it was certainly too far to commute to the city. 

Which meant? Well, it damned well sounded like she was planning to go back there. To pick up her career and old life just like Greta had when she abandoned Mikael and Monika. He shook his head as the pain cleared enough to be replaced by anger. She had just been using them all along. Some warped holiday to explore her kinky side. That was all they had ever been to her. 

He was across the room before he knew it. His hand gripped hers so tightly that she dropped the phone to the ground. He did not even think as his booted foot crushed it into the hard wood floor shattering the screen, even though he could still hear some voice on the other end, calling out to her. "Kirsty, Kirsty! Are you all right, honey?"

"MY wife will be fine. But she is not taking whatever job you are discussing. Her place is here...with us," he did not wait for a reply or give the woman a chance to phone back as he lifted his foot again and crushed the phone beneath his heel completely. He fought back the need to crush her too as he battled for the control that had been his way of life...until she came and screwed everything up.

"What fucking job, Kirsten?" he screamed as he tightened his hold on her wrist even more. If he had been thinking at all, he might have loosened his grip when he saw her draw back in fear. But he was too far gone then. 

Anger, hurt and betrayal were a dangerous cocktail when mixed as they were with newly discovered emotions. Too powerful to be easily overcome. "Answering me, woman. Or I swear I will fucking open that back of yours with the whip," he said as he ripped open her blouse.

"You do and I will fucking kill you," said the cold, steely voice as Mikael spun him around, his fist connecting with Sven's jaw so powerfully that both he and Kirsty fell back against the bed. 

Before Sven could say or do anything else, Bjorn was in the room and reached for her, drawing her tightly against his chest. "Me, first," his baby brother declared his intentions as he shoved her behind them both.

But Sven was not to be stopped. Incensed by betrayal and pain that seemed more than he could bear in that moment. 

Of course, the toffelhjälten could not see her for the conniving little bitch that she was. Why was he not surprised? It had taken Mikael years to see it in Greta...and it seemed not even that had wizened the man up. Of course, what would Bjorn, the virgin, know of women and their capacity for duplicity? 

No, only he knew what they were really like...always looking for some excuse to betray the men who loved them, who gave them everything. He above all others had seen that over and over again. He who had played with dozens of married subs.

Well, if she fucking thought that he was letting his wife off so fucking easily, she would learn. So would the little fools, "Don't you fucking see? She has just been using us. Using us to fulfil her fantasies. Now she is off back to her fucking old life...abandoning us just like..."

"Don't you fucking say her name or I swear it will be the last word you say for months until your jaw heals," Mikael stormed closer to him.

"No, it isn't like that...I swear," she clutched at Bjorn's back.

His baby brother shook his head and pushed her back, "You don't need to say anything else, Kirsty. Wait for us downstairs while we handle this."

Sven shook his head at her acting abilities. How many times had he buried his head between a woman's thighs and tortured her with his tongue as she chatted like nothing was happening on the phone with the husband she was betraying? Not HIS wife. She was not betraying him, them. He would make damned certain that she paid for this. 

But one thing was certain...she was not going back. Even if she had killed that silliness and false hope that he had foolishly given into, he was not letting her go. He never would. He did not need to love her to own her. 

She might have thought this was some game, a fun holiday, a kinky one. Well, hadn't his own mother tried the same the stupid shit with their fathers? And look how that turned out. No, as that silly saying went...she had made her bed, now she must lie in it. Even if he had to fucking tie her to it every damned time they left this place. His wife would learn her place. 

Let the toffelhjälten deal with that too as he came up swinging, connecting with Bjorn's ribs and doubling his baby brother over in the process. So much for the kid's size advantage. "Do not coddle the conniving little cunt," he said as he drove his knee into his stomach. 

He spun around and connected a solid blow to Mikael's jaw at the same moment that another landed on the side of his head, leaving his ears ringing and his head spinning. But he was determined to take his toll on them both before going down. "You never fucking learn what they are like do you?" he taunted his brother. The look on Mikael's face told him that his words scored a more powerful blow than even his fists had. 

He stepped back then, watching as she ran to Bjorn to comfort him. He had had enough of all of them. "Hear me now...you are not going back there. You belong to me now. You will fucking learn your place." 

He stared from Mikael to Bjorn, "And the two of you will fucking grow a set of balls when it comes to her. She is not going to use this family and then just abandon us the way that other bitch did. So stay the fuck out of my way when I need to correct her."

He did not stay to hear what they said as he stormed from the room. Instantly, he was across the small distance and standing on the deck of the only piece of solid ground he had ever known. Her name was Ægir's Captive for a reason. Because the only way to have what you wanted in this world was to fucking take it. She would learn when he took what was his, he fucking kept it too. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the collar that had cost him over a thousand of her pounds. He drew back his arm and threw it as far as he could into the fjord, the sea that had always been the only thing that was true. The only thing he could count. His true wife and mistress. 

He just needed to remind himself of that fact and push the fucking pain that ate at his soul away. The sea. Sons. That was what this was all about. Love had no place in this fucked up world. It was just an illusion for fools like his brothers. He had lived forty years without it. He could live another forty just as easily.

'Really?' 'Can you?' sang the wind as it wiped about him. Ice and snowing bleating his face as they mixed with hot tears that he would deny until the end of his days and this fjord swallowed his body just as it had that meaningless piece of gold and gems. He did not need her. Them. Love. Any of it. 

He did not.



Ægir's Wife Ch. 05



Kirsty leaned her head into her palms. She was so tired that she was tempted to actually lay it on her desk for a brief nap. If she did though, she feared she might be late for her final appointment of the day. Of the week. It gave new meaning to TGIF. Even better, this was not the perfunctory Sunday brunch with her parents. Which meant she could relax, perhaps even sleep in.

This was not just physical exhaustion though. It seemed all she had done for the past four and a half months was work, care for Monika, eat and sleep. Hell, too many nights she fell asleep in the tiny bed next to her step-daughter. Bjorn would wake her when he retired for the night. She was so tired that their sex life had become a once a week thing...if she were lucky. 

And Mikael? She lost the battle as tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. Once. Only once in almost five months that they had been back in London had she seen him. Then it was just for one night, he was gone before she even woke the next morning. 

She was certain it was more of Sven's vengeance being pelted upon her. She chuckled sardonically as she looked around the almost vacant office. Ironic that she had actually needed her job back. 

Her shoulders slumped under the weight of it. 'Temporary.' 'Just a few weeks until he cools off.' Mikael had promised her that day as he argued with Bjorn about the decision for them to return to her old life. 

Bjorn had been as much against coming back here as she was, but Mikael insisted that it was for the best. That a few weeks without her was all it would take to make Sven see how foolish he was being. Bjorn had countered that the Holding was their home as much as it was his oldest brother's. He was not going to let the man run him off.

Kirsty remembered only sketches of the argument between the brothers as she spent most of it with her head buried in Petrine's shoulders as she cried her very soul out. In the end, Petrine and Olaf had sided with Mikael. 

'Breathe,' she reminded herself at the stabbing pain that was as fresh as it was that day. Though Petrine insisted that it was for Kirsty's benefit, Kirsty found it hard not to feel rejected and betrayed by the woman that had been more of a mother to her than the one who had given birth to her. 

She had failed...again. She had not been able to do the one thing that they all needed most...bring the disparate brothers together. And in the process she had lost not one, but two husbands, a mother and the only place that had ever felt like home to her.

"Are you all right, sweetie?" came the smooth Caribbean accent from over her shoulder. 

Kirsty brushed the back of her hands across her eyes and forced a smile as she turned to greet Roz, her boss and perhaps the only true friend she had here. "I'm fine. Just updating a few records," she lied as she pointed to the laptop screen that was open mostly for show. 

The woman shook her head and the tight curls bounced about her round face with its light coffee coloring. "You always were a crappy liar, suga," her smile was as forced as Kirsty's own. 

If not for the woman's own problems, Kirsty would be tempted to confide in Roz. She had never hidden the fact that she lived an alternative lifestyle that included BDSM and polyamory. So it would seem natural, except that after over fifteen years of marriage, a bitter divorce was consuming her friend's every waking moment. 

Although just how useful her friend's advice would be given that her husband had left her for 'their' sub. A young woman that was pregnant with the man's first child. After Roz had spent close to decade trying to conceive and so many rounds of IVF that she had lost count, not to mention a couple of miscarriages along that rocky road. No, explaining three 'husbands' to the woman was perhaps not the best idea right now. 

"How are you doing?" Kirsty tried to divert attention away from her own situation.

Roz shook her head and smiled, "I's just fine, suga. Gots me the bestest solicitor that money can't buy. If that slimy, weaselly little fuck wants his precious son to be legitimate and heir to all dat money and title, it gonna cost him. Big time!"

The woman's smile and words might have been brave, but Kirsty saw through them. She remembered holding the woman's hand through more than one of those tense waits for the results of the latest IVF. She knew the hurt and betrayal that were lurking beneath the anger. And that was what worried her. What would happen when the anger dissipated and her friend was left with nothing but fifteen years of trying to please a man that she never could? 

Kirsty sighed as she shook her head. Not that she knew anything about men that you could never please. That you could never reach. Never make them truly love you. 

Roz lowered her voice to a whisper, "You get Mister Hunky or your carer to watch that little darlin' of ya'lls and we will go out for drinks. Cry in our beers. Then you can damned well tell me, why the fuck you ain't happy with a stud like that in your bed?" 

Kirsty winced as her stomach turned at the mention of beer. She had never been one to drink the stuff, but lately she had been battling a stomach bug that she must have picked up from one of her clients or perhaps Monika brought home from school. 

She nodded and smiled as she picked up a few things she had laid out earlier for this final session, "Speaking of which, I better get to my final session so I won't be late picking her up from school."

Roz paused, "I mean it, suga. I am here when you need to talk. Your friend. Not your supervisor." She winked, "And you still have not told me about Mister Deep and Sexy on the phone. Don't bother lying either, Bjorn's accent is barely noticeable. He sounds more American than anything, so I know it wasn't him." 

"But I figure it won't take more than a couple of drinks to get the whole story of how one man is screaming down the phone at me that 'his wife' won't be needing the job and two days later you show up here with another one on your arm claiming to be your husband," she winked. "Oh, I just bet this one is gonna be good, darlin'."

***

Bjorn stared out the window, watching the people several stories below scurry about like ants. Not a single head up. Not a single smile among them. So many fucking people. 

He ran his fingers through his long hair that was pulled back in a ponytail with the ends tucked inside the collar of his shirt. 'For propriety's sake,' his manager said. Truth was that his choice in hairstyle was just another thing that made him an outcast here. 

But they needed him. His coding skills, though mostly self-taught, were superior to even those of men, who had been at this firm since the beginning. And his facility with languages? That was icing on the cake. Rich, red velvet icing at that. The two combined to both make him virtually indispensable and a highly paid team leader. 

The only problem was the company he worked for. Designing applications that allowed people to legally gamble away huge amounts of money was not Bjorn's idea of 'gainful' employment. 

But when Mikael had insisted he take Kirsty and even Monika back to England while he 'worked' on Sven, Bjorn was not about to leave the bread winning up to their wife...or take handouts from his brother. Sure, maybe he should have held out a bit longer, given his network of online hacker buddies a few more days to come up with something else. 

Truth was...he would not have been happy with any of them. He was a fisherman. Born and bred. He might enjoy toying with computers, like figuring out pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, but it was the smell of the sea, the wind on his face, the roll of the waves beneath his feet that he longed for. 

Problem was...he could not support a wife and child on what he could make as a mere crew member on someone else's boat. What's more, he would be gone for long periods of time. And neither Kirsty or Monika were adjusting well to London. 

He sighed and his shoulders slumped, "Neither are you." 

He toyed with the idea of messaging Mikael once more, but he knew that would only shift the heavy burden from his shoulders to his brother's. That was not fair. The man had lost more in this whole debacle than anyone. The wife he had just come to love was bad enough, but his decision to selflessly send his little girl with them so that she could continue to bond with Kirsty and make progress...well, Bjorn was not certain that he could be so self-sacrificing if their roles were reversed.

Problem was what was supposed to have been just a few weeks had turned into almost five months. With no end in sight. Not that that should surprise him. Sven was nothing if not stubborn. 

He should have stood his ground. Even against his mother and uncle. They did not belong here. Any of them. The Holding was their home too. 

It was too late though. They were stuck it seemed in a city of over eight million people. Eight million little piss ants coming and going to work and school without purpose other than it was what was expected of them. They had signed a year's lease on a tiny two-bedroom flat in Kirsty's old neighborhood. It cost a small fortune each month and Monika's room was barely larger than a closet. Hell, there was more room on Ægir's Captive than in their flat. 

He hated his job...defrauding decent, working people for the benefit of a few wealthy schmucks, taking advantage of their weakness and playing upon unrealistic dreams of the 'big' win that never came. Even Kirsty did not seem to be enjoying the job that she once spoke so passionately about. And Monika? Was it his imagination or was his niece once more slipping deeper and deeper into her own little world?

And there was fuck all he could do about it. Trapped. Totally and completely trapped in the modern definition of success. A good job. A good neighborhood. A good school. And none of it made any of them happy. 

Especially his wife. 

He could almost hear his uncle as they sat at the airport in Oslo waiting for their plane to depart. He was giving Mikael as much time as he could to say his farewells to Kirsty and his daughter. Their mother had insisted on staying behind to see if she could talk some sense into her eldest son. So he and his uncle sat alone waiting for time to pass. 

"Being everything she needs won't be easy," the man had said in a low voice as he stared at his son and granddaughter. 

Bjorn sighed then wondering, not for the first time...was this all his fault? Had he somehow or the other wished this fate upon them? Had the gods in Asgard looked down upon them that night and seen the jealousy in his heart? Was this their punishment for him? It was the question he could not seem to shake. 

If the punishment was just his, he could manage, but why did she and Monika have to suffer too? What had they ever done to deserve this exile? Exile? Yes, that was the word. He felt like he was in exile for his sins. Punished for his jealousy and arrogance.

To make matters worse, he was exiled from her even. Oh sure, they shared the same bed. He fell asleep next to her and woke up beside her every single morning. But not only was their sex life almost non-existent and play definitely a thing of the past, but even the communication, their long talks were a thing of the past. She was just too tired...from working and caring for Monika. She had even been losing weight and not in a good way either. She barely ate.

Of course, there was another explanation as well. Depression. Lower libido, lethargy, and lack of appetite. It all fit perfectly. So what are you going to do about it, buddy? 

He had another conference call in five minutes. This one with a potential new client in China of all places. 

But first, he would see to this issue. He began by pulling up his web browser. He had not been on that site in months. Not since they had captured her. What was the point of going on the BDSM social network when you had what you wanted? 

It only took him a moment to find what he was looking for. He had been right. Maybe this was just what they needed. A lazy summer Sunday looking over kinky items for sale, perhaps even a bit of play at the after party? He frowned at the thought of putting her on display the way that he once had all those subs he had casually topped in the clubs. Maybe not.

He was not sure what made him do it but before he signed off he did a quick check of Sven's profile. Damn, the fucking bastard. He had friended over a dozen new subs and his history showed several comments on their pictures. So much for Mikael's theory about their brother just needing time to miss Kirsty. The man was replacing her. He was not sure where that left them. Any of them, but he would deal with that later. 

For now, he had another text to send as he messaged the young student, who they had found to care for Monika on rare occasions, such as their monthly brunch with the snobbish and uptight bitch that Kirsty called her mother. Of course, her father tagged along too, but from the first moment they met Bjorn had known where Kirsty got her submissive nature from. Male subs though had never been among his favorite people and her father was no exception. Thankfully, it was a couple of more weeks before that torture routine. 

He smiled as the carer responded quickly that of course she could make this Sunday. All the pieces seemed to be falling right into place. Maybe this was what they needed to shake them out of this. 

And if not? Well, he still voted for teaching Sven a thing or two about manners. And he would not be caught unaware by another sucker punch next time. One thing was for certain...they could not keep on like this. None of them.

***

Mikael stared at the dark screen of the tablet through eyes clouded with tears. This was always the hardest part. Those moments right after Kirsty and Monika ended the video call were his darkest, when all the doubts assailed him. 

Had he been wrong? It certainly seemed that way. Weeks had turned into months and not only had Sven not broken, the man had not even bent. Not the least little bit. Just the opposite in fact. The merry whistling from his brother's open cabin down the hall as the man got ready to go out for a night at the very club where he had first met Greta did nothing to assuage his mind. 

The fact that he was dragging their young cousin, whom Sven had hired to replace Bjorn, also bothered him. Mikael was still uncomfortable with the young man, who had once happily participated in the heckling that had so upset Kirsty. 

Although the kid was good at his job and kept mostly to himself, Mikael always felt a bit uneasy with the distant relation, more like second or third cousins how many times removed. The animosity between their families went back centuries and still burned brightly. 

Still he knew they were lucky to have acquired Karl during one of those rare moments of in-fighting between brothers. Or perhaps not so rare...at least not in their family. He looked up as Sven's form filled the doorway.

"Join us."

Mikael fought back anger at the ease with which his brother issued the order as if his marriage was as easily discarded as Sven had. The role of peace maker increasingly ate at his sanity. 

He shook his head and simply replied, "No thanks."

Sven studied him for a long moment as if he might say something more, but in the end he simply shrugged and sighed, "Come on then, Karl. Grab the floggers that I loaned you. Never can tell if you might get the chance to practice on something other than old pillows tonight."

He bit back a quick retort about the kid's lack of skill even on those pillows. If he had to take a guess, their 'cousin' would be more comfortable on the other end of those floggers, but he was not going to mention that to his older brother. The young man was getting an education he never would have back home that was for certain. It was up to Karl to decide what he wanted to do with that knowledge and the opportunities that came with it.

Mikael felt the needs of his own nature rising inside of him. But it was at least another two weeks before they would be back in England and he was certain that Sven would have another excuse for why they could not stay in port overnight. This time though he was determined...he would see his wife and little girl. If Ægir's Captive had to sail without him, he was going to London. 

He would feel her soft skin beneath his tawse and knife. He would smell her intoxicating scent. He would hear her soft cries and deep moans as he inflicted the pain that they both craved. He would hold her soft body against his...all fucking night this time. And when the morning came? What then? 

He honestly was not sure any more. His plan had not worked out for any of them. Least of all their wife. The dark circles beneath those blue eyes, the even starker paleness of her skin and the way that the pounds seemed to be dropping from her were all worrisome. It was this very type of pain that he had sought to save her from by sending them back to London. But even that had failed. 

It was time for a new plan...he just was not sure what it was. Other than holding her in his arms again. Loving her and never again letting her go. 

Martyr was not a role that suited him any better than peace maker was. His fists itched to connect with his brother's jaw again. To make him pay for these months of pain and loneliness. 

But the only one he could really blame was himself. He was the one who had sent them away. His wife and daughter. That pain was so much worse than anything he had ever known, not even Greta's betrayal and abandonment came close to this depth of need. Yes, it was past time that they came home...and soon.

***

Sven looked across the darkened room as the young man chatted with a group of Dommes. While Karl held the floggers that had been Stig's birthday present to Bjorn, it was clear that the kid had no idea or even inclination what to do with the damned things. The way that the leather clad barracudas were encircling his cousin like he was fresh prey turned his stomach. But if that was the man's cup of tea, who was he to judge?

Cup of tea? Fuck, since when did a simple beverage have to remind him of her. He sighed as he reached down for his toy bag. Fifth club he had been to in as many weeks, but this plan was not working any better at erasing her from his mind than weeks of back breaking work had. Or hours spent chatting to subs online.

Oh, there were plenty of willing subs around. There always were. But his usual appetite for easy married woman had been abandoned from the beginning. The only married woman that he wanted was the one married to him. He had tired other newbies, but none had the same deadly combination of natural submissiveness and quick mind. 

Who are you kidding, old man? She is the only woman you want. Hell, honestly, the only one you ever really have. All the others were just things to be used to relieve your bodily needs. 

But you pushed her away. You blew it. Mister Cool Dom was anything but with the only sub that it had ever mattered with. 

And there was not a damned thing he could do about it. He had blown it, not once, but twice. And even if he could by some miracle worm his way into her too kind heart...that was a possibility, there was no way that either of his brothers would let him anywhere near the woman they loved. 

All that Mikael had sacrificed, the morose way the man sulked about the boat, it was a near constant indictment of him, his choices, his mistakes...and what they were costing them all. 

Hell, even their mother was retreating back into the safety of that shell she had created after Bjorn's birth. Not even her wildflowers seemed to cheer her this year.

He sighed. He would have a word with Mikael when he got back. See if his brother would allow him to resume work on the cabin at the back of the Holding that he had begun in an attempt to please that conceited cunt of an ex-wife. If he finished it, well maybe, maybe Mikael could convince Bjorn to bring her back home.




Ægir's Wife Ch. 05



As hard as it would be...seeing her, knowing that she was happy with them, that he could never have any part of it, well as hard as that would be, could it really be any more difficult than this? 

He probably deserved the punishment...a lifetime of being close to the one thing he loved and could never have. But it was for certain that Mikael did not. His mother did not.

And them? What if they were happy in London? After all, she had been planning to go back there when he discovered her duplicity. And Bjorn? Well, his baby brother had a mind that was more geared towards business and studies than simple fishing anyway. 

It probably suited the kid to have her mostly to himself anyway. Oh sure, Mikael might still pine for the woman, but with his rare visits and only those nightly video calls that he thought no one knew about, he was hardly a threat to Bjorn's relationship with Kirsty. 

Truth was they were probably very happy with things just like they were. He sure as hell was not though. Maybe he could bribe Bjorn to bring her back with promises of adopting some of those fancy ideas of his about how best to maximize their profits by selling their premium catch direct to higher end restaurants. It was worth a try at least.

He shouldered his toy bag as a pretty young sub approached him with her eyes downcast. She was curvy in all the right places and that only further reminded him of her. But her worldly appraisal of his assets in the tight leather pants turned his stomach. And the whiny purr in her German accent when she spoke was the death knell. 

"I am sorry. I was just leaving," he said as he brushed past her. He considered gathering his young cousin, but perhaps the man would have more fun on his own. Be more free to explore his natural tendencies whatever those were. Maybe he would find something he liked here.

It was certain that he had not. No, the truth was that only one woman had ever had the courage to break through his icy veneer. And he had run her off. 

***

What did you wear to an 'Alternative Market'? Kirsty rummaged through her closet as she listened to the shower run down the hall.

A part of her was really excited that Bjorn had taken the time and effort to plan this 'date' as he called it. But the idea of a whole building full of kinky items for sale, hundreds of Doms and subs, and goddess only knew what else was a bit daunting. Especially as they had not really been very kinky lately. 

Sure, on the increasingly rare occasions that they did make love, Bjorn was still very much the Master. His kisses still stole her breath as they had that first night alone in Sven's cabin. He even whispered, 'Cum for me, my sweet Freya.' But the floggers had hung practically unused in the closet next to her corsets and mini-skirt.

Corsets and mini-skirt? Of course! She reached for them towards the back. Her fingers brushed the black one that had been their first gift to her. The one that had been in her bag when she first met Sven in Tilbury. Her throat tightened and her eyes clouded over as they always did when she thought of him. The one that she could not reach. 

She pulled it from the closet along with the blue jean mini-skirt that she had worn that day. Of course, she would not need to wear thick tights this time. Bare legs would be fine since it was unseasonably warm for early June in London. Or maybe a pair of hold-ups. Black to match the corset? She would take her blue jean jacket as much to cover up the excess of bare skin and cleavage as the warmth it would provide if they did decide to stay for the 'after party', whatever that was.

She poked her head out to check on Monika, who was still playing quietly on the couch with her tablet. She knew the thing could keep the child engrossed for hours, so she was judicious about how she used it, much preferring to spend nice days like this at the park down the street. 

But that task would fall to Georgia today. The young teaching student that they had found through their advertisement at the local university. The girl was such a blessing. They used her once or twice a week to pick Monika up at school and take her to the park or soft play center so that she could rest, clean or make dinner. 

She smiled...or occasionally spend a little special time online with Mikael. Though that too was never enough. It seemed strange that the husband she was not with showed more interest in her as a sub than the one, who shared her bed. 

But she knew that Bjorn had other things on his mind lately. His job was more stressful than Njord and Ran had been. She sighed as she stepped into the skirt and pulled it up her legs. None of them were happy here. Though they were all trying. 

She frowned at the huge gap at the top of the skirt. The damned thing had always been tight, but not like this. She shook her head. She would have sworn she was losing weight, not gaining it. But that gap clearly said otherwise as she laid back on the bed to try and force the zipper up. 

Five minutes later, she was almost in tears and her fingers hurt, and not the good kind of pain either. She reached for the corset. Maybe if she put it on first and laced it up. Well, once Bjorn tightened the strings, surely then she could manage to get the skirt buttoned and zipped. Surely. 

Even that was a struggle though as she completely unlaced the strings at the back, as far as they would go. She first tried pulling it over her head with the metal hooks on the front still closed, but it seemed she had definitely gained weight...in her tits too. Not that she minded that so much, but it certainly was throwing a spanner in works with this outfit. 

"What are you doing?" he asked from the doorway. 

Damn, did the man have to look so fucking delicious standing there with only a towel wrapped about his tiny waist, all those muscles in his chest and arms bulging like one of the models on the covers of her books, and all that long blond hair dripping water onto the bare wood floors?

"Damn it, Bjorn! You're getting the floor wet," she complained as she unhooked the clasps determinedly. She would get into this damned thing. There was no way she was going anywhere with Thor not unless she looked as sexy as she could possibly pull off. 

He frowned and crossed those arms over his chest. Damn, the man! Those muscles that still glistened and beaded with water flexed and wiggled even more sexily. She spread the corset out on the bed as she lay back onto it. "Get over here and use those damned muscles for something useful, why don't you?"

"You are about to earn a punishment, young lady, if you keep speaking to me in that tone." A dark scowl crossed his face as he joined her on the bed, "Do you have any idea how much like your fucking mother you sound?"

Those words hit her harder than a cane ever could as tears burst forth that she had barely contained since the whole debacle with the skirt. It was a flash flood that once released seemed impossible to quell. 

Bjorn shook his head and gathered her in those strong arms. He gently rocked her back and forth for several long moments. He even smiled and gently shooed Monika back to the living room when she came to investigate the noise. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear as he brushed the hair back from her face as the worst of the tears abated and a nasty case of hiccups began.

She shook her head, "No, you're right. I'm the one that should be sorry." She hiccupped as she buried her face in his shoulder, "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just wanted to look pretty for you today and not embarrass you...well, any more than being with the fat chick will anyway. 

"But I can't even get this damned skirt to zip or the corset over my tits. I thought I had been losing weight, but I guess I have been gaining it." Her words sprang forth as unfiltered as her tears had.

He hugged her tighter and kissed the tip of her nose. "First of all, you should know by now that I think you are beautiful. Just the way you are, Kirsty." 

He paused for a moment, "You said, you can't get the skirt to button or the corset over your boobs?" His hands reached up and weighed her tits as he frowned deeper. If that was not bad enough, they then made a rather thorough investigation of her tummy, something that always embarrassed her. 

"Fuck!" he cursed as he looked up. "When was your last period?"

His words barely registered at first. Then like that light bulb, it dawned on her what he saying. It took her a moment to think. Her periods were never completely regular anyway, but she kept track of them on an app on her phone. That was on a table in the living room though. "Right after Mikael visited, I think," she frowned. 

That would be close to three months. A bit long, even for her, but she had gone longer once or twice. But still? She swallowed as she stared into his Kelly green eyes, "Do you think?"

His face was a blank mask as he nodded, "Yeah, yeah, I do, Kirsty. In fact, I don't know why I did not think of it sooner. I guess I have just been so stupidly busy with work and shit that I did not notice what I should have." He sighed as he drew her back against his chest, "I'm sorry, princess. Will you forgive me?"

Kirsty brushed a strand of wet hair back from his face and placed a soft kiss on his mouth, "Nothing to forgive, my love. I know that you have been stressed at work. I understand. It's fine."

He shook his head, "No, no, it's not, sweetheart. It's a job. That's all it is. A pay check. You and Monika are what are really important. I had forgotten that but no more. I promise."

She smiled and hugged him without words for a moment. He was right. They had both lost their way since coming back to this place. Life was just so much simpler on the Holding. The sea, Njord and Ran might be tough masters, but in many ways not as demanding as modernity. 

But maybe, if he was right, maybe if she was... Pregnant? She could barely think the word. "You really think I could be?" She dared not utter it. 

"You have been losing weight, Kirsty. I noticed it a couple of weeks ago. I was going to say something because I was worried you have not been eating enough, but I just never got around to it. Like I have not gotten around to a lot of things lately." His hand that had not left her belly slowly inched upwards once more until his thumb brushed softly across her nipple. 

She sucked in a deep breath at the intensity of it. "Oh yeah, those are even more sensitive than usual," he whispered as his hand cupped her full breast and lifted it to his lips. 

Her hands clutched his shoulders tightly as her eyes closed and she threw back her head with a loud moan as he suckled her nipple deep into his scalding hot mouth. His teeth scored her tender flesh and she felt the orgasm explode out of nowhere. 

His other hand pried her thighs apart as his fingers found her wet center. She felt the world shift beneath her as those fingers found that tiny bundle of nerve endings that always took her there. She would have to change the sheets, but she did not give a damn, as she felt the tsunami of juices explode from her cunt and drench his hand and arm. He moaned around her nipple as she rubbed her ass against his hard cock. 

She had not been this hot and horny since... 

But where it might have gone, they would never know as a tiny voice from down the hall called out, "Mommy?" 

Tears and laughter joined with softer kisses as Bjorn slipped his hand from between her thighs, "I will see to our little girl while you get dressed. But no tight skirts or corsets. Not until we know for sure, understood?"

"Yes, Master," the words that had been decidedly missing from their lives for months just slipped so naturally from her lips then.

He bent and kissed her softly before adjusting the towel, "Good girl. And we will finish this later." He disappeared down the hall with a smile. 

He had said 'our little girl'. Did he realize that? And now perhaps a baby too? Maybe things would be all right after all?

***

Bjorn watched his wife chat with her friend, Roz, as they examined candles meant not for incense but for wax play. The idea of his wife's pale skin marked in patterns of bright red and purple was not something he would have thought appealed to him, but surprisingly it did. Perhaps he would find a few moments alone later to pick up a few of the candles. 

Kirsty smiled and nodded her head at something the woman said. It should have been no surprise that Roz would not only be in attendance but one of the volunteers at the monthly event, which attracted hundreds or the way this place was filling up, thousands of people. He lifted his glass of juice to his lips as he observed them.

Why had he not seen it sooner? After another bout of tears, she had finally decided upon the brilliant blue sundress that was among his favorites. The coloring suited her, bringing out the blond highlights in her red hair and making her alabaster skin glow. She was most definitely glowing today as her laughter carried over the crowd to his ears.

Bjorn frowned at the other woman. He had never been particularly close friends with any female Dommes, but then again she identified as a switch. Though since the demise of her marriage and betrayal of her poly family, she had not felt comfortable in the submissive role. 

Well, except for the time when she had drunkenly propositioned Mikael when he visited. Not that either of them had told Kirsty about the incident. It was not the woman's fault after all. How was she to know that the 'brother' was actually part of a poly marriage? He shook his head at another of the lies, which seemed to weave the complicated web of their lives in this place. 

If she was pregnant? And he was almost certain that she was. Well, that only tied them further to this place. He would not risk her life and health or the baby's by taking them back to the isolated Holding, over a hundred miles from modern hospitals and the care that they would need. 

Once the baby was born? His mind filled with images of green trees, wildflowers, the gentle sound of the fjord lapping at the rocks on the shore and the fresh, crisp smells of it all. Old wooden forts and modern playsets. Quiet with only the sound of birds to interrupt your slumber. Even the icy white of its harsh winters held a beauty all their own with the green and blue skies of the Northern lights and nights that lasted for months. 

And the sea! He had been born to it. Saltwater mixed with Viking blood coursed through his veins. As hard as he was finding it adjusting to this strange world, it was not a place he wanted his child raised. 

His child, he sighed. He was still coming to terms with that. Though they had all accepted and loved Monika as their own, it was not their way. Children for all the macho claiming crap that his mother and wife detested were a communal thing. It had been natural for his father to step into that role with Sven. As natural as he was finding it with his niece. 

But if his wife's dates were right, then this baby was clearly his child. His and his alone. That thought should make him happy. Fill him with some sense of he-man pride. But just as his uncle had warned, the sole responsibilities weighed heavy upon his shoulders. 

He wished Mikael or even Olaf were here to talk to. He could really use their advice and insight. Sure, he would video call his brother tonight as he did most nights after she fell asleep. But should he say anything? Would it just cause more jealousy and resentment? The man had sacrificed so much already...would the knowledge that their wife carried his child only make those sacrifices more profound? Maybe he would wait...just until they knew for certain. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not even notice her approach the table where he sat. "How interesting running into you here, Bjorn," her thick accent darkened his mind just as her tall form cast its shadow over him and the table where he sat.

If things had not been dark enough, this certainly was not a good omen. "I could say the same thing about you, Greta."

The woman did not wait for an invitation, sliding into the booth next to him, saddling up as close as she possibly could until her small breast practically brushed his arm. "Are Mikael and Sven lurking about somewhere then? I did not think your stays in England extended to London and events such as this. Then again I never truly understood much of what you all did beyond the smell of fish."

And whose fault was that, he bit back the retort to the woman that had almost destroyed his brother. His family. He glanced across the room to see that his wife's back was still turned. He just wanted to get her gone before Kirsty returned. Greta was a complication they did not need. "I live here now," was all he said.

She smiled and reached one of her red-talons across covering his hand with it until he drew back in disgust. The action turned his stomach and reminded him of another time, another night. When she had slipped inside his room and into his bed...naked. When that same hand had...

He jerked his hand back sending his glass of juice careening across the table and landing on the floor with a loud crash. He looked up into the storm clouds of his wife's pretty face as she quickly crossed the few feet to their table. "Kirsty, I can explain," he fumbled.

The woman turned and her scowl said clearly that she dismissed his wife as any threat to her plans, "Greta, may I introduce my wife, Kirsty. Kirsty, Greta," he made introductions that he wished he did not have to.

His wife shook her head, "Greta? Don't you mean Gee?"

Bjorn shrugged his shoulders at the name his former sister had adopted after leaving her husband and child for the world of run-ways and high-fashion. It did not matter to him how famous she became or how rich, she was still an ugly, hateful and devious lying cunt as far as he was concerned. 

"Oh, Bjorn, you are joking, right? This provincial creature? Your wife? How quaint? We both know you could have done so much better. I told you before, just say the word...I have contacts that could make you the next top male model. You could make more money off those golden blond looks of yours than your brother will make in a lifetime of fishing...or even your tinkering with those computers," she rambled on but he was only half listening. 

His eyes were glued to the tears that he saw gathering in his wife's blue eyes. That made him angry. Truly angry as he rarely allowed himself to be. All he wanted to do was hurt her. Hurt this woman, who had done so much damage to all the people he cared about...and still was. 

He wanted to wrap his hands around her throat and strangle her. But not the intimate breath play that he shared with his wife alone. 

No, the mindless violence that had almost taken the life of a distant relation, who had been several years older than his tender six or perhaps seven. The red haze of violence that had sent two others to the hospital that day before his brothers had arrived to save him. 

Even then he had been big for his age, that was why his cousins had attacked him in mass. They had merely meant to taunt him, calling him 'mammadalt.' Perhaps push him around a bit, a few bruises. They had gotten much more than they bargained for. 

And though he had never raised his hand to a woman in anger and would not now...even as much as the bitch deserved just that. He chuckled, as sickly masochistic as she was, the cunt would probably get off to a real beating too. 

While he might not stoop to hitting a woman, there were other ways of inflicting pain. Perhaps more useful ways of punishing a masochist. 

"Yes, well, Greta, you should be more appreciative of my wife's quaint and provincial talents since she is raising your daughter. Of course, you would not know that since you have not bothered to stay in touch with Mikael or your child." He forced a smile he did not feel as he looked her in those ice cold blue eyes that had made her famous. They were not nearly as cold as this woman's heart. 




Ægir's Wife Ch. 05



How anyone could think she was beautiful was beyond him? "You are welcome to visit Monika sometime...if you can fit your daughter into your busy schedule." He was pleased to see that his retort had managed to score at least a bit as the woman drew back and looked around the packed room. 

"Yes, well, I am not sure how long I will be in London. I have a shoot this week. But then I have been invited to holiday on the French Riviera by a Saudi prince," she waved her hand at a tall, slender man across the room. "It was nice running into you anyway. Please do give what I said some thought. It seems such a shame to deny the world such masculine beauty."

She stood up and allowed her eyes to scan his wife from the top of her head to her sandaled feet. Her scowl did nothing to make her more attractive as she brushed dismissively passed Kirsty, "I am sure someone like you was born to motherhood more than I ever was. Too bad you did not end up with the right brother." 

She shook her dyed blond tresses as her vitriol spewed forth, "I am sure that Mikael would have welcomed your homely mothering skills for the child. Or maybe Sven? He always was a cold fish, but with hips like those you would certainly fulfil that man's fantasy of the perfect breeding sow. But Bjorn is clearly out of your league, darling." Her laughter followed the woman as she walked away without so much as asking about her daughter or taking their number. 

Bjorn stared frozen in time after her for a long moment as the power of his anger ebbed and flowed like that Norse blood in his veins. He wanted to go after her, wanted to poke and prod at the tiny wounds his harsh words had inflicted until they were the gaping, festering holes that had almost consumed his brother for over two years. 

But he knew he could not afford the luxury. It was more important that he soothe things with their wife. Not just for his sake, but Mikael's as well. He forced a reassuring smile and looked up as the first tears spilled from his wife's eyes. He held out his hand and tried to stand up. "Please, Kirsty. Please, I can explain," he begged as she shook her head and ran crying towards the bathrooms.

He stared after her as he finally managed to get to his feet while dabbing the spilled juice from his slacks. His movement was quelled by the dark hand planted firmly on his chest, "I think you have done quite enough, stud muffin. Let me handle this one," Roz said. 

Bjorn would have sworn there was not a submissive bone in his body, but the clear authority and demanding tone the woman employed stopped him in his tracks. "Yes, Ma'am," he muttered as he felt all hope that things might work out draining from him. 

His shoulder's slumped. "I love her, you know," he muttered feeling like that little boy making excuses when he dropped his mother's favorite rose pot. 

The woman smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I know you do, kiddo. But it ain't always easy for women like us to accept that love. Not with women like that lauding it over us and reminding us how unworthy we are," she sighed. "Leave it to me. I'll see what I can do, suga. It's for damned sure that girl deserves some love and happiness in her life."

***

Kirsty huddled against the wall trying to stifle the worst of the tears. It seemed all that she did was cry anyway. Now this. Her. 

The mysterious Greta, who had been an unseen demon in her life especially between her and Mikael. If that was not enough, the woman turned out to be the fucking hottest super model in the whole damned world. You could not go to a single newsstand without seeing at least one and usually two or three magazines with that striking face and perfect size zero body.

Of course, none of them had bothered to tell her that her predecessor was Miss Perfect. Lying bastards. All of them. Not a single one had had the balls to tell her the truth, but now she knew. Now she knew. 

And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it! She certainly was not going to reject the precious little girl that the woman had born and then abandoned. It was not Monika's fault that she had the world's best DNA.

And them? Well, there was not a damned thing she could do to hurt Sven. That always had been beyond her abilities to reach Mister Cool. But Mikael? A few nights without her answering his video calls would serve the coward right. 

Bjorn? That was just it. What was up with him? Why had he not told her before this? Maybe the way that woman was all over him. She might have been his former sister, but Kirsty would have sworn the woman was coming on to him?

"Kirsty Elizabeth Montgomery Dickens! I know you are in here. You have until the count of three to come out or I start kicking these doors in. One stall at a time," Kirsty had to actually chuckle through the tears, because she could see Roz doing just that.

"Don't do that," she hiccupped as she tentatively opened the door a crack. "I'm coming out. Just give me a minute."

"Sixty seconds and no more. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven. Fifty-six. Fifty-five."

Kirsty chuckled as she reached for the tissue and tore off a huge chunk of it, swiping at her eyes that she knew were red and swollen. "Oh what's the use anyway?" she said in disgust as she threw it into the loo and flushed. 

"Forty-three. Forty-two," she ran straight in the welcoming bosom of her friend. Roz shook her head and licked her fingers, brushing them over her cheek. "It's not use," her friend confirmed as she dragged her to the bank of sinks against the wall. 

She pulled a handful of rough paper that passed for hand towels from the holder on the wall and soaked them in running water before turning back to Kirsty. "Here, suga, hold these over your eyes for a couple of minutes. That should take some of the redness and swelling out of those pretty eyes...and some of the dark smudges from your cheeks."

Roz wrapped her arms about her and just held her for those long moments. It was not quite Petrine's comforting maternal warmth but it was certainly more than she would have ever gotten from Nancy Dickens, who would have probably launched into one of her tirades about it being her own fault for allowing her weight to get out of control to begin with. 

Though Kirsty never could figure out exactly what her mother was talking about. When she had 'allowed' her weight to do anything. She could not remember a single photo of herself as anything other than a chubby cherub with flaming red hair and freckles. Even as a little girl. If DNA had anything to do with it, at least that was not something she would have to worry about with Monika. 

She lowered the paper towels and stared at the dishevelled reflection in the mirror. She wanted to burst into tears again, but Roz squeezed her shoulders and their eyes met in the mirror, "Stop it, hunny. Stop it, right now. I can see those little wheels a turning in that brilliant mind of yours. But this time you are wrong."

She spun her around until she was staring into the warm brown depths of her friend's eyes and not mere reflections of them. Kirsty could see the gold and green flecks in them that added the warmth and sparkle that matched Roz's personality. Well, the old Roz anyway, but that seemed to be who she was dealing with at the moment.

"You listen to me, girly. From the moment, I met that man I knew he loved you. Do you hear me, child? He loves you. Your husband is head over heels, madly, passionately in love with your ass. And ex-girlfriend or not, that is not changing. Hell, I had to Dom the hottie just to keep him from following you in here."

Kirsty had to chuckle at the thought, "You didn't?"

Roz smiled, "Oh, yes, I did, suga. Poor boy, I don't think he knew what hit him." She reached for some dry towels and began to dry Kirsty's cheeks, taking the last of the dark mascara smudges with it. "If you want your revenge, maybe you should take a turn on the other end of that pretty new flogger he picked up from Jack today."

"New flogger? Bjorn bought a new flogger?"

Roz chuckled, "Little pain slut, are we?" She shook her head, "I should have guessed. But yes, why do you think he had me take you to the workshop on Topping from the Bottom? He needed to talk to Jack."

Kirsty smiled, a new flogger? Maybe Bjorn still had more interest in her than she thought. 

"Thuddy or stingy?"

Roz shook her head and her thick curls bounced about her soft coffee-colored skin, "Stingy, super stingy actually, but you don't get off that easily, young lady. Did you hear me? Your husband loves you." 

"So I expect you to square those shoulders, hold that head up high and shake that sweet ass when we walk out of here. You will not give a woman like that the pleasure of knowing she got to you, do you understand me? If you do, I promise you I will punish you. And my punishments aren't as much fun as stud muffins. I have a three month back-log of client reports that need filing," she threatened.

"You wouldn't?"

"Try me, suga. I don't usually make a habit of domming another man's property, but that one is so besotted that I doubt he could punish your little ass no matter how much you needed it. And you do for this one, sweetie. Who was she to him anyway? His ex-girlfriend? I didn't catch much of what was said cause I was too worried about you," Roz adjusted the straps of her sundress and pinched her cheeks for color.

"She's Monika's mother. Mikael's ex-wife."

"Wow. Didn't know you was traveling in such high company." She shook her head, "Just that the man didn't seem the type to be fooled so easily by a bit of pretty meat, but then too I only met him the once. Maybe that explains it?" 

Kirsty shook her head, "Explains what?"

"Oh, nothing you need to worry about, suga. But if she is nothing more than a former sister, why should that bother you so damned much? Yeah, she did seem a tad 'friendly' for an in-law, but it was obvious even to me that Bjorn was not interested in whatever the woman was offering. Seems to me that anything else is between her and Mikael?"

Kirsty sighed, this was her opportunity. Her chance to explain it all to Roz. To come clean about the poly, just as their surprise appearance here today had outed their interest in BDSM. There was little doubt that her friend would understand. She opened her mouth to begin just as the door swung inwards and her entourage of the beautiful people took over the whole space. 

Her smile was icy cold and stretched the skin tight over her angular cheeks, making her slightly garish. Perhaps that was why in all those photographs you never actually saw her smiling? Or maybe it was something deeper? 

Kirsty studied her for a long moment. They were about the same height, just shy of six feet. But unlike her body with its generous curves, Greta or Gee or whatever she called herself, was so thin that you could see the bones in her cheeks, arms and shoulders. While Kirsty's skin was naturally pale to match her red hair and freckles, this woman was pasty and sickly beneath thick layers of makeup. 

Their eyes met and for a heartbeat Kirsty would have sworn that she saw pain in those icy waters. But then the woman spoke, "Sorry if we disturbed anything." Her smile said that she knew exactly what Kirsty had been doing in the loo and took pleasure in her pain. 

Kirsty inhaled deeply. Roz was right about one thing...she would not give this woman any more pleasure. She smiled more bravely than she felt, "No, it is fine. We were just finishing up. I have not been feeling well lately. But I'm sure you remember how tough those first few months of a pregnancy can be?"

Kirsty whispered a prayer under her breathe to Freyja for forgiveness at the way she stretched the truth. She smiled at the shocked look on her rivals face, "Monika needs a little brother or sister after all."

It took the woman a bit longer to recover as Kirsty studied her reflection in the mirror for a moment before picking up her bag and smiling at Roz. "You mean cousin, of course."

Kirsty smiled as she brushed shoulders with the super model as she opened the bathroom door, "Do I?" She begged further forgiveness from her goddess for the outright lie that scored a direct hit as what little color the woman did have drained completely from her cheeks. 

"Please do drop your card by the table later. I am sure that Monika would love to see her Mummy again after all these years." She drove the dagger deeper. She just kept walking as Roz had said with head high and shoulders squared.

***

Bjorn squeezed in the tight space in the dimly lit corridor, looking over his wife's shoulder at the shiny metal butt plug with the large, fake red ruby at the end. He shrugged as he reached around her to caress the end, "It has possibilities. The red against your creamy skin would look nice."

He loved the way that her cheeks flamed an equally deep shade of the color as she dropped her eyes, but he was not so fond of how her elbow felt to his solar plexus. "Aww, what was that for?" he teased. 

He knew that of her cadre of acquaintances, only Roz could be considered a real friend. He frowned, so why had his wife not confided the truth in even this woman? She was as out of the closet with both polyamory and her interest in BDSM. 

Yet in all these months, all the dinners, all the girls' night movies that he knew was an attempt to distract her friend and lighten her dark mood as her divorce drug on and on, Kirsty could not tell him there was not a single opportunity to come clean about their own lifestyle.

Hell, Mikael's visit would have been a good chance. Though his brother had smiled and held out his hand in greeting to Roz, Bjorn had caught the deep pain in his eyes at the words... 'my brother.' 

It was one thing to hide the truth from her parents. Though he would so love to tell them, if for no other reason than to see the look on her mother's face. If the woman had so much trouble accepting her daughter's relationship with one long-haired computer geek and business executive, he would love to see her deal with three Nordic fishermen. The thought brought a cheeky grin to his face. 

That smile faded fast though when he considered the possibility that Kirsty had not told her friend the truth because she was ashamed of them. He frowned, was it possible that some of her mother's prejudices had worn off on their wife? 

It was not something he would have thought possible, but the past months here he admitted they had grown further and further apart. He was not even sure he knew her at all any more. Maybe he never had? Maybe there was a grain of truth in Sven's accusation that they had been nothing more than a holiday fantasy for her? 

"Hey, earth to stud muffin. Move those tight buns, boy." 

Bjorn was not entirely certain he liked Roz sometimes. Well, not the woman. That side of her. He had never had any trouble showing courtesy to other Doms and even Dommes in clubs like this one. And while he might not always understand or appreciate some of the things that happened between his brothers and their wife, especially Mikael's sadistic shit, he had dealt with his jealousies. But sometimes Roz's Domme side bordered upon rude. 

Of course, the woman was a switch. Maybe it was more show, since she was feeling vulnerable and used right now? Maybe she just needed a stronger Dom to put her in her place? 

Not that he was interested, any more than Mikael had been. No, their sometimes bratty wife was more than sub enough for them. But he would not mind being around to see the woman on the other end of a flogger someday. 

Nonetheless, he followed them on to the next stall as they listened to the man's spiel about his antique Violet wands. He watched as the man held the glass appliance over his own arm and electricity arced in a display of pretty lights, yellow, pink and of course the violet for which it was named. 

"So do I have any volunteers?" the man asked as he held out the wand. 

"Oh, me, me," his wife bounced up and down like their little girl did when you signed and mentioned the word park. 

He reached out a restraining hand though, "No." He watched the storm clouds gather in her face. 

He knew that she was still angry with him about Greta. A part of him could even understand, she felt betrayed that none of them had mentioned since leaving the Holding the woman had become some kind of model. 

But what she did not seem to get was that it simply was not as significant to them as it was to her. So what if the woman made her money appearing half nude on the cover of magazines, she was still the cold-hearted bitch that had betrayed Mikael, tried to seduce him and abandoned her own child? What was so fucking beautiful about a woman like that?

He was certain that this only added fuel to her fires, but he doused those quickly as he leaned in and whispered, "I do not want hundreds of volts of electricity coursing through your body. Not until we know for sure if you are pregnant, Kirsty."

She nodded her head slowly as her hand went protectively to her stomach, "Yes, Sir," she whispered though a bit petulantly.

"I will bring you back next month and buy you the damned thing if you aren't, I promise," he said as he tried to mend some bridges with her. 

She shook her head, "No, it is all right. I understand and you're right, of course. I would not take the risk, not if..."

The other woman turned to them, "So it wasn't just something you said to get back at that bitch? You're really pregnant?" she squealed.

"Shhh, Roz," Kirsty admonished as her friend gripped her in tight embrace then suddenly released her.

"Oh sorry, sweetie," she gleamed. "How far along are you?"

"We don't know for certain yet," his wife said quietly as she looked down at the floor. "I really should not have said what I did like that."

He was totally lost, but something told him that more had happened in that bathroom than he knew about. But now was not the time to discuss it. Though there never seemed to be time anymore to discuss anything. 

Their lives were on autopilot. Get up, get ready, long commute on the train while being meticulously careful not to make eye contact or smile, work, work, work, then more train, followed by dinner, television or more work before dropping exhausted into bed. Too tired to do anything more than pull her into his arms and inhale her soft scent as he drifted off to sleep. This place, this life drained you as the toughest day at sea, the most violent storm never could. 

He missed the sea. He missed his brothers. His mother. The Holding. Hell, he missed his wife most of all and he held her in his arms every night. Or the shell of the woman he had thought he knew. He sighed and followed along behind them as the women moved on to the next stall. Just as he would move on tomorrow and the next day and the day after that, through the humdrum existence that had become their lives.

***

Kirsty blushed this was a bad idea. How had she let Roz convince her to do this? She clutched the thin wrap as tightly about her curves as she could. "I really think I should just get back into my own clothes and go home," she pleaded with her friend.

"Don't be silly. You know you want to feel that new flogger on your back, sweetie," Roz teased.

She admitted the idea did have merits. She could count on one hand and have fingers left over the number of times that she and Bjorn had played since they moved back here. She could not even remember how long it had been. 

Part of it was that unlike her bedroom on the Holding, there simply was no room in their tiny flat. Swinging floggers took a bit of room and the couple of times that Bjorn had tried it was difficult for him to get a good rhythm going. While the basic padded St. Andrews Cross lacked the ornate style of the furnishings in her bedroom, it would certainly work better than the makeshift way that he had strung the rope over the pole in their closet. 




Ægir's Wife Ch. 05



But still there were hundreds of people out there. Most of them thin...fashionable...perfect. Worst yet...SHE was out there. Parading around in nothing but a thong. With her perfect, apple size breasts. Her perfect long legs without a single dimple or sign of cellulite. Her tiny, little, tight ass. 

And worst of all, her perfectly flat tummy. Even after a pregnancy, not a single stretch mark and certainly no sign of a muffin top that so many women complained they could never seem to lose. Hell, she had a whole fucking cake worth of it...and she had never even been pregnant. 

She touched her round tummy, not that she would mind. Not a thousand muffins. Not if she really were pregnant. A baby. Her own baby. With Bjorn. Not that it could change how she felt about Monika, nothing ever could. But as she had said to that woman, a baby brother or sister would just make things...

She sighed, who was she kidding? A baby could not make any of this better. She felt the tears gathering again as they approached the small crowd gathered around the cross. She fought panic and the need to turn and flee as fast as she could when she saw the perfect form strapped to it at the moment. 

She would have done just that except for the firm hand at the small of her back as Roz whispered, "Head high and shoulders back. Remember you have two things that she never will. Her child and that man's love. And if you don't believe that, look at his face, sweetie."

Kirsty swallowed as she forced her eyes to do just that. He looked a bit sheepish. She could almost imagine him as the little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. 

She sighed, Roz was right of course. None of this was his fault. How was he to know that woman would be here today any more than she had known her friend would be? And he had not fallen for the woman's sweet innuendos. In fact, he had been almost as vitriolic as she had been. 

He held out his hand as Roz pushed her the couple of feet towards her husband. Bjorn brought her fingers to his lips and brushed a kiss across the back of her hand, "You look lovely, Kirsty." 

She studied the wooden floor as she mumbled, "Thank you, Bjorn."

"Oh come on you two, you'd think this was your first date or something. Hell, I'd think with a body like his, you'd have demanded to see it naked by now, especially when it comes to baby-making time," her friend said a tad too loudly.

"Fuck," Bjorn cursed. "The baby? Maybe we should not..."

Kirsty nodded her head as she looked up at him, grasping at any excuse she could to run from this spectacle. "Of course, the baby..."

"Oh, do not worry about that, dearie," crooned the thickly accented feminine voice. 

Kirsty looked over Bjorn's shoulder to see her rival donning a black silk robe over her naked and now pink skin. "Mikael and I played regularly throughout my pregnancy with no effects on the child. And as I am sure you know by now he is much more sadistic than baby brother ever could be."

She squared her shoulders at the woman's words that were laden with so many insults to all of them...Mikael, Bjorn, herself, but there was one she would not tolerate, "Monika. Your daughter has a name...in case you have forgotten it." 

She turned and brushed a kiss over Bjorn's lips as she tenderly caressed his cheeks. "We can't let her win," she whispered against his lips. 

He smiled and nodded as he bowed courtly at the waist, "After you, my darling wife." He held out his hand as he helped her up to the wooden X-shaped structure. He bent to secure the leather straps about her ankles. 

Kirsty leaned her head against the padded wooden cross bar that no only provided additional stability for the structure but also offered comfort for the sub. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She tried hard to focus. To get into that head space. 

Still the idea of being put on display like this before so many people. Even though the sarong style wrap that Roz had loaned her covered far more than Greta's thong did, she felt exposed. The material was thin, almost transparent, and it hung and clung to all her curves. Curves? Nice way of saying...your fat ass. 

Her breath caught as she felt his hands begin to slowly caress up her calves, "Open wider for me, sweetheart." His voice was low and hypnotic as his other hand grasped her ankle and moved it closer to the wooden bar. 

She felt her heart skip a beat and it had nothing to do this time with the anxiety she felt at being so exposed to all those people...and everything to do with him. Her husband. And she felt closer to him in that moment than she had in months. All of the rest began to disappear as she felt those hands secure the other ankle. 

Her eyes opened widely as his hands once more began to caress her legs, except this time it was not just her calves as his fingers danced along her inner thigh. She held her breath as they went higher and higher. He would not dare. Not in front of so many prying eyes. But he did as they slipped between her legs and caressed her sensitive cleft from her clit back to her ass. 

He tapped it lightly, "Good girl," he whispered when he felt the hard red glass end of the butt plug that he had bought for her. 

She jumped as she felt his hand make contact with her bottom, driving the plug deeper inside her ass. She could not stifle the moan as another landed on the other cheek. She felt her body crushed against the soft firmness of the cross as he slid his body slowly up hers. 

"Fuck, all the gods in Asgard, do you know how good you smell, sweetheart? I had almost forgotten how sweet your pussy is when you get turned on. Damn it, I wish there were not so many people around. I want to tongue your sweet cunt so fucking much," he whispered as he pushed his hard cock against her ass. 

The plug became almost an extension of his cock as it gently fucked her ass, rubbing against her g-spot from the other side. She bit her lip and reminded herself, "You do not have permission to come," his deep whisper matched her thoughts.

"Yes, Sir," she moaned as she slithered between him and the cool, firm padding, turned on as she had not been in months, even more so knowing that her relief would have to wait. She felt the furred lined leather cuff tighten about her wrist.

"I think she is warmed up enough. Other people are waiting, you know," the cold, masculine posh British accent interrupted. Kirsty could not help but turn her head to see the older man in black leather with his arm draped over her shoulder. She stiffened at the look of triumph and disgust on the woman's face.

"You are the one, who said we couldn't let her win, my love," he whispered as he secured the cuff around her other wrist. His hands slowly caressed and kneaded her tense shoulders as they brushed back from her shoulder the thick braid that she had woven it into. His teeth nipped that sweet spot where her shoulder met her neck. 

"Good girl," he said as she pushed back against his cock and moaned. His fingers raked across her shoulder slowly, crisscrossing her skin and raising blood to the surface.

"Please, Bjorn," she pleaded as she felt the wet begin to soak her knickers. She jumped when his teeth sank painfully deep into the same spot he had so tenderly nipped before. "Oh..."

His hand make contact hard with her bum, "Please who?"

Kirsty stifled the giggle. His teasing might have put her in a hopeful mood at the moment, but she dared not spoil it with a real punishment. "Please, Master."

His tongue licked an oval on her shoulder before he placed a single soft kiss in the center, "Do not forget again." 

She whimpered when she felt him move away, the cool air caressed her back but it was not his touch. Then she felt the sweet caress, "Thor," she sighed. 

He began as he usually did with a series of lighter blows which built in intensity. She leaned against the wooden structure and allowed the erotic play of the falls upon her skin to clear her mind. 

There was no real pain, merely deep pressure like a masseuse kneading tight muscles. She lost track of time as the blows fell. Minutes turned to hours then mere seconds. It was not subspace, but she skirted its edges.

His nails scraped across her skin and she moaned, her body pushed back to rub against his, "Good girl, I was beginning to wonder if you were still with me, sweetheart." She felt the warmth of his lips near her ear, "It has been too long since I had you on the end of my floggers if Thor alone can do this to you. Can you manage Hermóður, my love?"

"Yes, oh please. Please, Master," she pleaded for the stingy flogger that was her favorite of the sons of Odin.

He kissed the spot at the very center between her shoulder blades. Then he was gone again. She felt alone and bereft as she had since coming back to this place. She whimpered. 

It turned to a moan as the first blow landed on the exact spot that his lips had blessed. She felt the thicker, stiffer leather bite into her skin and she embraced the pain. She welcomed it. Her body craved and pleaded for as much as he could give. 

She felt the blows each of them individually as they melded together into one. Some moments she wrapped her arms tighter about the wood and others she danced upon her toes as it sank deeper and deeper into her flesh, as her soul sank deeper and deeper into the pain that he gave her. 

Just when she would have slipped into the abyss of light, embraced the peace and disconnected from all else, it stopped. She did not even have the energy to open her eyes to see why, "Bjorn?" she called out in confusion.

She could feel the wet of his perspiration as his lips once more tenderly administered to her tender flesh, "I am here, sweetheart." His hands caressed up and down her arms as he kissed across her back. 

"So fucking beautiful," he whispered. For a moment, she almost believed it was her that he spoke of. But it must be the pattern of raised pink lines that criss-crossed her back like an intricate lattice works upon some ancient temple. 

"How are you doing?"

"Gooood," she slurred the word, but she did not care at that point. She had long since forgotten that they had an audience even. 

"Would you care to meet Týr.? The god of war. I picked him up for you today," he leaned his head between her shoulders and the wetness stung and soothed her skin at the same time.

"Yes, yes, please, Master," she pleaded. 

His hands caressed slowly down her arms from her finger tips that were raised high above her head, "No tingling?"

She chuckled, "Oh, loads of tingles, Sir, but only the good kind."

His fingers slid slowly down her arms across her shoulders and down her back. Then they detoured as he reached around her body, he cupped a breast in each hand and kneaded it softly. His thumbs brushed the peaks as her body rubbed against his like a kitten pleading to be pet. 

She whimpered when he abandoned them, his hands instead lovingly exploring her stomach, "Only a taste, my love. I know how very much you want it, but until we are certain. Until I do some research. I am sorry, but I will not risk it. Not you...or our baby." 

She smiled as butterflies danced in her tummy. Why should that surprise her? But this time they were so strong she swore she actually felt them physically. 

She nodded and forced her eyes to open by sheer will. She turned her head just enough to see him. His face had never been more beautiful. 

Maybe the woman had a point. Maybe such sheer masculine beauty should be shared, but at the moment she was enjoying having it all to herself. "I understand. I would not want to risk our baby either."

He smiled and bent to kiss her lips, "Thank you, my love. I know what you are sacrificing," he whispered.

"Sacrificing? No...your baby is so much more precious than a mere taste of heaven."

"Asgard, woman," he teased as his hand connected with her bottom. "I will not have you polluting the little Viking warrior with this heaven shit."

She chuckled, "You just remember that they counted shieldmaidens among those warriors."

"Oh, how can I possibly forget when I'm married to you?" he teased as he stepped back. "Ready, my love."

She turned her head back and rested it against the padding once more as she whispered, "Yes, Master."

She could not stop the scream that erupted at the first blow. It stung worse than Mikael's tawse on her bare, wet cunt. She sucked in air, deeply as she tried to gather her composure and brace for the next one. 

"Hlín, my love?" She smiled at how worried he sounded. 

"No, Master. A bit more please."

There was a long pause and she thought perhaps he would deny her. "Ten. No more. And you will count. That way I know you are not getting spacey on me, understood?" 

Once more she had to stifle a laugh, oh, her sweet, gentle giant. "Yes, Master."

But when the next blow came, she quickly reassessed her assessment of his sweetness. It felt as if the flogger had bitten into her flesh, so deeply that he had opened it. 

It was the very type of pain that she craved and adored. The type that could so easily send her to subspace, but since that sweet escape was clearly off limits this time, it just plain hurt. "One," she whimpered. "Thank you, Sir."

The next hurt even worse as her fingers buried into the pleather padding covering the cross. "Two, Sir."

The third had her dancing on both toes and pleading, "Three, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

She screamed out as number four landed between her shoulder blades. Before the number could pass her lips, she felt his body brace hers. 

He did not bother unbuckling the leather straps about her wrists. Instead he merely released the D-clamps that held them to the cross. His hands rubbed her arms firmly, bringing blood back into them rapidly. 

"Just when the show was getting good too. The little sub wimps out. Oh, wait, it was the Dom, who wimped out," that posh Etonian accent broke through the fog. 

Bjorn turned his head, though his body still bracketed and protected hers, taking the brunt of her not so unsubstantial weight. "This is no fucking show for your pleasure or anyone else's. Have you forgotten that 'safe' comes first? Safe. Sane. And consensual. Or are you that stupid and selfish that the safety of your sub comes after your perverse need to inflict pain?"

"I'll have you know, young man, that I was a Master while you were still in diapers." Was it her imagination through the hazy fog of pain or did the man's voice actually rise an octave?

"You've really come up in this world, haven't you, Greta? Pompous old men suit you so well," he said as he turned his back to them dismissively. 

What happened next she was not certain, the room seemed to break into applause though her brain was too muddled to tell for whom the crowd cheered. 

Suddenly, a bottle of water was pressed to her lips. "Drink this, suga," intoned Roz's soothing voice as she opened her eyes to stare into her friend's smiling face.

She wanted to say 'thank you,' ask what was happening, where was Bjorn. Then she felt strong hands about her ankles, releasing the cuffs there as well. Then there was a soft blanket about her body. Its warmth was comforting but it chafed against her raw skin. 

"I'm sorry, my love," he whispered as he drew her body protectively against his. 

Why was he apologizing? What had he done? She stumbled a bit for a moment, but there was no danger of her falling. Not with Bjorn on one side and Roz the other. 

As they made their way forward and the crowd parted for them to pass, she stepped forward. "You never did have Mikael's penchant for pain and blood, but what you do with those floggers is true art." 

She stared at Kirsty as that pretty face contorted into a mask of hatred, envy and disgust. She tried to push something into the pocket on Bjorn's trousers, but it looked more like she was trying to...

Kirsty's stomach rolled at the very thought of it. She pushed Bjorn aside and raced back towards the bathroom. Once or twice she would have stumbled and fallen if Roz had not managed to stay right by her side every step of the way. 

She barely made the stall as the limited contents of her stomach exploded from her open lips. Roz's arms wrapped about her shoulders as hers encircled the porcelain seat. Even when the last of what little she had eaten and drank that day filled the bowl, her body was still trembling with the spasms as she dry-heaved over and over until she practically collapsed onto her arms. 

The rest just sort of blurred. How she got out of the stall and out through the packed room to the taxi that miraculously appeared was beyond her. The next thing she remembered was Bjorn passing her off to Roz's arms as he reached into his pocket to pay the man. 

It fell on the floor then. The glossy, black and red business card embossed with the golden letter 'G.' The whole fucking world knew that trademark. She gathered all her strength and pulled the handle on the door as it swung open into the cooler night air. She shivered as it hit her sensitive skin, but she did not have the energy to both grasp the blanket about her shoulders and make a run for the front door of their building. 

She chose to make a run for it. Wasn't that the story of her life? Always running? She made it through the lobby. She did not bother waiting for the lift as she took the stairs the three flights to their flat. She was winded and on the verge of another bout though she was not certain whether it was tears or vomiting as she pounded on the door of the flat.

Georgia opened the door, but Kirsty did not give her the chance to speak as she pushed past her and even her little girl in a rush for the loo once more. 

How had she not noticed the resemblance before? The woman's child was as breath-takingly beautiful as she was. But her pulchritude was not marred with hubris and greed. It was pure. And if she had anything to say about it, it would remain that way. 

In the end, it was both. Crying and vomiting at the same time was more of an art form than people realized as her arms cradled her head. She did not know how long she sat there on the cold floor before Roz appeared. Her friend ran a tub of warm water that stung her back but soothed and calmed her taut nerves. 

She must have dozed off in the tub because when she opened her eyes it was his face she saw sitting on the loo watching her with a worried look. "I'm sorry. Going there was a bad idea," he said as he spread out an extra-large bath sheet, lifted her to her feet and enveloped her in its warmth. 

She just nodded. She did not have the energy to argue at the moment. She just wanted bed and sleep. She would deal with everything else tomorrow.

***

Bjorn crawled into bed next to his wife. He reached for her as he always did, but she moved away. He was not certain if she was asleep or still awake. But after over an hour on video chat with Mikael and their mother, he was in no mood for an argument with her. He thought about forcing the issue, about moving closer to her or simply pulling her into his arms even if she fought him. 

He ached for the comfort that he found only in her arms. He was so tired. Bone fucking tired. He needed her so badly. 

But he simply could not risk rejection. Not from her. Not now. So he turned on his side and faced the other wall. His back to the very thing that he needed more than air or water. 

His wife. But he was not even sure that she was. Not by the standards of this fucked up place for certain. His eyes stung as he fought back tears in the dark. 

What if she really was pregnant? What then? This was no place to raise a child. No fucking way for them to live. He could barely breathe his chest hurt so badly. What was to become of them? Any of them? Even his mother looked thinner, paler even older. For the first time in his life, the woman looked her six decades.




Ægir's Wife Ch. 05



And Mikael? If Greta had nearly destroyed him, this was going to finish the job. He would have done anything to spare his brother the pain of that conversation, but he could not. Greta's appearance in their life complicated an already impossible situation. 

One that none of them had a solution for. In the end, they had agreed to talk again. Once they knew for certain. Fuck! He had meant to pick up a pregnancy test from the store but it was too late now. He knew it was only one more day, but every day in this place seemed like another in purgatory. 

Not purgatory. Múspellsheimr with its lakes of fire made the Christian hell look like a day in the park. Or perhaps Niflheimr with its cold, dark barrenness? 

Neither were a place he wanted to bring another child into. But he was almost certain it was too late to worry about that now. Hell, he would have sworn he felt the child move when he touched her stomach while she was on that damned St. Andrews Cross. But he knew that was not possible. Not physically anyway. It was much, much too soon for that.

***

Kirsty pinched her eyes shut tighter and pretended she was asleep. Maybe he would just go away? As much as she longed for the comfort of his strong arms around her right now, she was too confused. Too hurt. She needed time. Needed to figure a few things out. Needed to get her head on straight. 

Her hand cocooned her tummy. Was it really possible? Of course, it was. Months of unprotected sex made it not only possible but likely that she would fall pregnant. But the very thing that she had prayed and pleaded with the goddess for once, now seemed...  

Frightening. That was the word. She was scared. Petrified actually. So much had changed. They had changed. And as much as she wanted a baby, the timing just seemed off. 

Hell, it even seemed wrong somehow that there was no doubt this child was Bjorn's. That should have been reassuring, especially here. Though they were brothers what if the baby had been Mikael's and inherited his darker coloring or Sven's with those icy blue eyes? How would they have explained those subtle differences...especially to her mother? 

No, she should be grateful. Not this strange longing. Wistfulness that this child would have no part of Mikael. The man was such an amazing dad. And Sven? Could she even begrudge the man the son he had waited a lifetime for? 

Who knew maybe all this concern was for nothing? Maybe it was just a false alarm? But as bad as the timing was, that thought brought no comfort. No, even if the timing sucked. She still wanted a baby. That much was certain. 

Probably the only thing that was in this new fucked up life they lived. She felt the tears slipping from her eyes onto her pillow and fought to hold back the flood that she was certain would wake him as she cried herself to sleep. 

In the bed next to a man she loved. Yet all alone. 

Just as she had lived her whole life until the moment that he had taken her arm and drawn her through the turnstile at that train station in Tilbury. Sven. The first one that had captured her heart...and the only one whose heart she could never hold. 

***

He sat staring at the sky. It was not fully daylight. But there was still more than enough light left to work by. Even this late at night as he drove the nail deeper into the board. But it did nothing to relieve the frustration and anger that seemed to threaten to boil over at any moment like a pot on his mother's stove. 

If winter was eternal darkness, then summer was perpetual light. Except he had chased away the only light that had ever dared to shine in his world. He had let fear of the raw emotions that were so fucking new to him control him. He, who had prided himself on his control, had lost it the only time that mattered. That was no fucking kind of Dom. Man. Or husband. 

So the gods had condemned him to this barren existence of Niflheimr. With its dark coldness, which was still probably more than he deserved. Maybe he would rename this cabin that. He sighed, the sooner he finished it the better. 

***

The screen had been dark for half an hour at least. His mother, whom they had both felt the need to include on this one, had long since disappeared. She had hugged his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. "We'll figure something out, Mikael. We'll bring them home somehow. I promise," but the raw pain in her voice offered scant reassurance. 

A baby? He knew he should be happy for his baby brother. And he was. 

For all the reminder of that vicious bitch that this call had brought forth, he could never hate the woman completely. She had given him the one that meant more to him than anything else in this world. His little girl.

Well, more than just about anything. He would certainly not want to have to choose between them. 

His wife. But was she really anymore? The words, 'my brother,' brought an ache to his chest as deep as it had that day. Not my husband. No, that honor was his baby brother's. He was just the brother-in-law. And whose fault was that? 

His own stupid fault. 

Now this! A baby that would only bind her closer to Bjorn. He felt everything he loved and wanted slipping through his fingers. It hurt so much he could not even bring himself to get up and move the few feet to his bed. Instead he simply leaned his head on his arms as the tears began to hit the dark screen. Tears he had never spilled...even when Greta abandoned them. 

Not even the light still streaming through the window could overcome this darkness. Like the molten fires of Múspellsheimr, Ragnarök had come and his Asgard had fallen, a broken, burning mess all about him.

***

She greeted the dawn atop the outcropping of rock that had always been the perch she had climbed to await their return. In the days before satellite internet, when CBs and sea-to-land radios were the only options, how many times had she climbed the cliffs and looked out to sea for any sign of them? 

Her whole body shook as the tears spilled down her weathered cheeks. She had thought it was a good omen that the girl had taken to this very spot just as she had as a new bride. But once more she had chosen to see history through the rose-colored lenses of an old woman.

And for the first time ever that was how she felt. Like an old woman. 

Lars...the love of her youth. A man she had barely come to know before he was jerked from her embrace by that bastard Njörður and cold heartless bitch Rán.

Andres...the first, the hook they had used to lure her to them. Her pain had driven him to the bottle. And that had killed him too. 

Stig...

"Damn you, damn you to Helveti," she cried to winds. "Why must he be so much like you? Why couldn't he have opened himself even just a little bit to her? Why couldn't he love her back even just a bit? That was all it would have taken. If he had bent, even a little, she would have met him more than half way."

"Like you did all of us, woman?" she turned to see him standing there. She held out her hand. 

Without a word, he came to her. Wrapping her in the safety of his strong arms as even more tears flowed. Enough to fill the oceans afresh. Was there some hidden meaning that those tears were as salty as the seas that called them? Her husbands. Her sons. 

"And the sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the sons," she whispered as she swiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

***

He chuckled, "Don't be quoting your grandparents' silly religion now, woman." He kissed her tenderly, but even after four decades the fires still burned brightly and that tenderness soon fanned the flames of passion until they were both breathless. 

"We converted your Christian ass to the one true faith long ago, Rachel. So remember the goddess you serve now. Remember you are a daughter of Freyja. Love. Fertility. And battle. The first...well, we have always had in abundance, woman," he laced his arthritic fingers through hers and brought them to his lips. 

He rubbed them against his thick beard until she giggled like the girl she had been when he first laid eyes on her. And he swore that she was more beautiful than she had been even then. If that was possible. "And if I overheard correctly, it seems the second is working out too."

"I don't know whether to hope she is or isn't," she sighed heavily.

"Yes, you do, woman. A baby is always welcome in this family. And like you told our boy, we will figure this out somehow. We always have. Generations upon generations. Our way is never easy. You know that."

He bent until they were eye-to-eye, "Which is why she is also the goddess of battle, woman. So what are we going to do to bring them home where they belong?"

"You men, what would you do without us shieldmaidens?" 

He chuckled, "Probably kill each other. But right now woman, I am more interested in showing you what we do with our shieldmaidens."

She laughed and the sound rang across the fjord like the sweetest song he had ever heard or ever would, "Dirty old man."

He stood up and held out his hand, "Then take a shower with me, old woman. I'll wash your back if you wash mine."

Her hands found the front of his jeans. Her fingers wrapped about him, "I much prefer washing the front."

He caressed her lower lip with his thumb until they parted, "Yes, well, it is the inspections afterwards that I like best."

He wrapped his arm about her and held her against him as he stared out to sea for a moment. He added his prayers to hers that they would find a way to mend the divide, to make their family whole again. Because missing his baby girl and seeing his wife and son in this kind of pain was tearing him apart. As much as watching his brothers self-destruct had. 

But this time, he would not watch helplessly. No, if he had to take that boy to the fighting fields himself, it was time this family learned to work together. To truly share all that it had. What it meant to be brothers...real brothers.