Homecoming

I had a lovely dream last night. As dreams do, time and place were mixed…

Imagine a small room. Is it the only room? Perhaps. Or maybe this is the whole house.

The floor is packed dirt. I know this because I am on my knees, facing the door, waiting. A large fire roars in a fireplace behind me. Its light dances with the shadows against the walls. Its warmth caresses my back and I relish it. My hands are icy; I can feel tendrils of cold sneaking in around the doorframe, touching the skin not covered by cloth or fur. I know I have been on my knees for a long while; my legs and back feel the strain. But I stay where I am. Waiting…

…It has been a long wait.

But I hear, finally, the sound of footsteps approaching.

And in my belly something drops. I have started shaking. Fear? Excitement? Both?

And then the door swings open; there is a swirling rush of cold air and snow, and I am no longer alone.

You have arrived.

You stand there, unmoving. The door had been slammed shut. You do not move.

My breathing is ragged, short breaths, just enough. I have not looked up at you. I cannot. I am on my knees at your feet.

Time passes slowly. I shake more as I wait. Wish you would say something, anything. Or move. Start this. Please start this. Please.

But I have been taught that I must wait.

It doesn’t matter than my muscles ache. Or that I am cold and afraid. That my fear is mixed with love and adoration. It doesn’t matter. Only you do. You have taught me this.

And I wait.

You are so angry. I can feel you looking down at me. I know you have heard rumours of my conduct while you were away, how I dared to look a man in the eyes, in the company of many, many others. Are you deciding how you will punish me?

You haven’t moved. The muscled columns of your legs are planted firmly in front of me. I long to reach out and hold you, to touch those legs, feel their strength against my cheek.

How long? How long?

A roar. Large rough hands digging into my arms and shoulders, jerking me up and pushing me back down. Throwing me backwards. Advancing. I try to move away. You won’t let me. You grab me again. I can hear you breathing hard, angry. So angry. Shaking me. Pushing me.

My Viking is home.

My face is pushed into a pile of furs. Our bed. You have ripped the clothes off my back and pushed me down there. I resisted at first. Tried to get away and leave. But it only inflamed you more. And made you stronger.

You are straddling me, locking me between your knees. I feel you raise up and…

…SMACK! The first fall of the leather hits my ass. I gasp at the intensity of the stoke, the searing pain. Before it turns into warmth, the second hits. SMACK!. On top of the first! It hurts! Oh dear father Odin, it hurts! and it doesn’t stop!

SMACK!…SMACK!….SMACK!…SMACK!

“Who owns you?” you growl as you strike my tender reddened bottom, over and over.

SMACK!

“You, Master…” I whimper and gasp.

SMACK!

“Say it!” You command. SMACK!

“You own me…oh!” SMACK! “…Master.”

Over and over again. I have lost count of the strokes. But you have thankfully not asked me to count them out to you this night. My whimpers have turned to tears and I am sobbing with pain. But you have no softness in you, no sympathy for it. I must endure all that you give. And I do.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

How long? I have no idea. I am crying but also feeling a warmth in me. Can feel desire for you coursing into my loins. Pushing my bottom up to meet your strokes. Wanting them, wanting you.

I feel you move, pushing my legs apart with your thighs, and you push home to the core of my being with your hard cock. I am so wet you encounter no resistance. You are fucking my cunt with the same intensity as the beating. Growling. Wrapping your hands in my long hair, pulling it back. Rough. Very rough. The head of your cock pounds against my womb, harder each time. I push back against it, welcoming the pleasure of the fucking and the pain of the deep thrusting and the sound of the slap of your thighs against my reddened ass cheeks.

You pull back, thrusting fingers into the wetness between my legs. I miss your cock but the fingers feel good. I moan. your fingers move in and out and up, transferring the moistness to my most secret place. Feel your rough fingers searching out its rim, pressing into me there. Pushing the tight muscle, forcing me to relax and allow you in.

One finger. Two. Pushing deep. And then your slick cock.

Pushing against the hole, demanding entry, refusing to be denied. In pushes your head, stretching me. Pain. Pain. Gasping at the pain. I can’t move away. And then you thrust all the way into my ass. I will myself to relax, to allow you the access you demand.

You are in me so deep. You own me body and soul. I am totally yours. You use me so roughly here but the pain becomes pleasure. You pump in and out. I contract my muscles around you, as you have taught me. I want to please you. You are breathing so hard, panting in my ear, biting my neck and shoulders, pulling my hair, fucking my ass. Fucking it, riding it, owning it.

And then your explosion inside me! Aaaaah, the feel of your hot cum spurting into me, filling my ass with your sweet seed. Still hard, still pumping, still owning me. Marked as yours in the most primal of ways, marked by your cum.

And you collapse on top of me, not pulling out. Keeping your cock wedged firmly in my ass. We sleep this way, you and I. As one. Master and mastered.