Tribute for the Viking (reluctant gay erotica) (2 page)

He laughed, not surprised his wife had
realised the true reason why he had chosen Eadwulf to keep. “No man is prettier
than you, Dagmaer.” He was relieved she didn’t seem to be jealous or annoyed.

After one last glance at Eadwulf,
Dagmaer joined Bjarni’s side again for a hug. “You are more than enough to keep
me satisfied, husband. But if you wish to bed this Saxon, you have my
permission to try.”

Try? He frowned at that. “You think I
cannot do it?” He was far stronger than Eadwulf, and his wife would never doubt
it.

“I think he will put up quite a fight,”
she said, still smiling. “From what I heard, Saxon men aren’t accustomed to be
fucked by other men.”

It wasn’t a custom for Viking men
either. Being the one who was taken was shameful, the worst kind of dishonour.
No one would judge him, a married man, for fucking a male thrall. But only
cowards and weak men would willingly be taken. He glanced at Eadwulf, who was
looking around the home with great interest. The Saxons might be different, but
they had similar ideas about men fucking men. “How fortunate,” he replied to
his wife, “that I enjoy a good fight. I will have him under me within a week.”

Dagmaer leaned up to press a kiss
against his cheek. “So long as you remember to have me first, my husband.”

“No need to worry about that,” he
replied, grabbing her tight for a deeper kiss. He had missed his wife, and he
knew how much she had missed him. His first night back would be spent with her.
As he pulled back, he glanced at Eadwulf. The younger man was blushing, and
looked down. “Go chop wood for the fire,” he ordered, switching to a language
Eadwulf would understand. “My wife and I will be some time.”

Dagmaer laughed as Eadwulf swiftly ran
outside. “You are not worried he will run away?”

He snorted. “Where would he run to?
Everyone in the village knows he’s mine and he will get lost in the woods. I
don’t think he is that foolish.”

“Good, I would be most displeased if you
had brought me a fool for a thrall,” Dagmaer told him, then slid her hand down
his tunic. “Now let me welcome you back, husband.”

Putting his plans for the young Saxon
aside for now, Bjarni lost himself in his wife.

~*~

It had been an uncomfortable night for
Eadwulf, and he ached when he woke up the next day. No one had untied the knot
around his neck, so he had slept with it on the hard bed. The furs were very
welcome, but it had still been a colder night than he was accustomed to.

He shivered as he walked into the
central room of the house, finding Dagmaer there. “Good morning,” he said,
hesitant. He wasn’t sure if Bjarni’s wife understood him.

She nodded, then handed him a large but
shallow bowl. “Fill with water,” she told him, then pointed outside. “From the
well.”

He nodded back, then went to fetch the
water. Upon his return, Bjarni sat at the table, drinking from his tankard.
Eadwulf paused, not sure where to put the bowl. Bjarni beckoned him over and
Eadwulf moved to stand in front of him expectantly, lowering the bowl.

To Eadwulf’s surprise, Bjarni used the
water to clean his face and splashed some on his hair and beard, combing
through it to tidy it. He then gestured at Eadwulf to offer it to Dagmaer, who
did the same thing.

He wondered if this was a daily thing.
Back home, he and his family only washed themselves when necessary, which was
rarely. He put the bowl on another, smaller table, then waited for an order.
After the boat journey and yesterday’s events, Eadwulf hoped he would get some
food.

Dagmaer joined her husband, and they
both ate first, eating bread and some stew with their watered down ale. The
smell of it made Eadwulf’s stomach rumble, but the couple ignored him to talk
quietly amongst themselves. He really needed to pick up this harsh language of
theirs, because he heard his name a few times. He wondered if they were saying
anything good.

Once they were finished, Eadwulf was
allowed to eat as well, some scraps of bread and some of the leftover stew. He
ate it happily, not even caring that it tasted different from the meals he was
used to. It tasted just fine, especially with the watered down ale.

The rest of the morning he did chores
for Dagmaer, helping her with the animals and the house. She had also finally
taken the rope from around his neck, much to his relief. Bjarni had gone into
the village, and didn’t return until it was midday. He went into the house
briefly, then returned with two blankets. Eadwulf wondered what those were for.

“Thrall, come here,” the Viking said.

Eadwulf came running over. “Yes?”

Bjarni shook his head. “Yes, who?”

Of course. Eadwulf gritted his teeth.
“Yes, master.”

“Much better,” Bjarni told him. “Tell
me, how often do your people wash or bathe?”

Eadwulf shrugged. “When necessary, so
maybe once a month, or once every two months. Master,” he added, after a slight
pause.

The Viking frowned. “How do you live?”
he muttered. “You will clean yourself more often than that while you sleep
under my roof. Come, I will take you to the lake.”

So that was what the blankets were for.
“But it’s cold,” he argued. Bjarni didn’t really think Eadwulf would happily
strip off his clothes with this weather?”

“And you are filthy,” Bjarni replied,
and pulled him up by the scruff of his tunic. “And my thrall. So stop
disobeying before I make you sleep outside.”

Forced on his toes, Eadwulf struggled to
keep standing. “Y-yes, master,” he replied quickly.

Bjarni shoved the blankets at him. “Then
let’s go.”

Eadwulf turned to look at Dagmaer, who
gestured for him to follow her husband, smiling to herself. He sighed, and ran
off after the bigger man. He supposed washing couldn’t be all that bad.

The walk towards the lake was quiet,
Eadwulf looking around keenly. There were no other people around, so if he ever
wanted to escape, this might be a good route. Although where would he go? How
would he survive? There were plants he didn’t recognise, and he knew no one in
this land. For now, he had to stay with Bjarni.

They arrived at the forest lake, which
was bigger than Eadwulf had expected. He had thought it would be maybe one or
two feet deep, but this looked like a lake where a man might drown. Had Bjarni
brought him here for that purpose? For some reason, Eadwulf didn’t think Bjarni
was the type to do that. If he wanted to kill Eadwulf, he would have done so at
the house, in front of Dagmaer.

He turned to Bjarni to ask where to drop
the blankets, but his mind turned blank when he saw that the Viking had already
taken his tunic off, revealing his muscular back and arms to Eadwulf, who could
only stare. The man’s biceps were as thick as Eadwulf’s thighs, probably
thicker. Some part of Eadwulf longed to reach out and touch him, to feel the
ripple of muscles underneath his fingers.

Bjarni turned to look at Eadwulf
expectantly. “You too, thrall, unless you want me to drag you in with your
clothes on.” He smirked.

Eadwulf was too busy looking at Bjarni’s
chest to take in his words. The Viking was as hairy as he had expected, thick
dark hairs covering his chest and turning into a thinner trail further down,
ending at the Viking’s belt. “What?”

Bjarni’s laugh snapped Eadwulf out of
it. “Your clothes, thrall,” he said, amused. “Take them off before I throw you
in the lake.”

That had Eadwulf drop the blankets to
take his own clothes off immediately. As cold as he was now, it would be worse
if he had to walk back in wet clothes. He felt embarrassed by his own body as
he stripped off, more aware than ever that he was scrawny and smaller than the
Viking.

He hopped around to get his boots off,
finding it hard to focus with Bjarni standing there, also getting naked. The
few glances he got were enough to make him nearly fall over, much to Bjarni’s
amusement. Eadwulf cursed himself. What had got into him? Why couldn’t he stop
staring at Bjarni? It was probably because he had never seen a man that broad
and tall before, he told himself. That was it. He was simply curious, and the
novelty would soon wear off.

Eadwulf managed to disrobe himself
without further incidents, and looked up expectantly at the Viking. His eyes
couldn’t help but follow the trail of thick hair from Bjarni’s chest to his
stomach and down to his groin, landing on the biggest cock Eadwulf had ever
seen. Even soft it was impressive.

“If you have looked your fill, thrall,
there’s the lake,” Bjarni told him, smiling smugly. “I will help you get
clean.”

That had Eadwulf hesitating before
taking another step towards the lake. “Help?” he asked.

Bjarni nodded, taking Eadwulf by the arm
and leading them to the shore. “You are clearly not very good at cleaning
yourself,” he said, nodding at the streaks of old mud on Eadwulf’s bare and
hairless chest. “I will teach you.”

Did that mean the Viking would touch
him? Run his big hands all over Eadwulf’s body? A part of him liked the idea of
that, of having the Viking that close. Eadwulf tried to suppress the thoughts
and allowed himself to be dragged into the water, swearing when his feet and
calves hit the cold water. “No!” he yelled, trying to pull back, but Bjarni was
merciless.

“Y will get used to it,” the Viking told
him, and waded further into the lake, forcing Eadwulf with him.

He yelped again when the water hit his
own soft cock and balls, shivering at the sudden cold. “How do you stand it?”
he yelled, as Bjarni led him on.

“You get used to it,” Bjarni repeated,
but even he hissed when the cold water lapped at his balls. Eadwulf took some
satisfaction in that. Bjarni might be strong, but he was still a man. “This is
far enough,” he concluded, once the water was up to his hips.

For Eadwulf, it meant the water was well
above his belly button, and he was relieved they weren’t going to go much
deeper. “Good,” he grumbled. He had to admit that the cold water wasn’t as bad
now as it had been at first, but he wasn’t going to tell Bjarni that.

Bjarni pulled Eadwulf closer, forcing
him to stand with his back to Bjarni’s chest, one big arm holding him there.
“Let’s get you clean, thrall,” the Viking murmured into Eadwulf’s ear.

The resulting shiver had nothing to do
with the cold. He could feel Bjarni’s soft cock against his lower back, the
strong muscles of the Viking’s arm easily keeping him trapped. But escape was
the last thing on Eadwulf’s mind, as he felt surprisingly safe, and also warm
being held this close. His own arms hung useless by his side. “Yes, master,” he
whispered, a small part of him wanting nothing more than to lean against
Bjarni, but he made himself stand up straight. This was about getting clean.

The hand of Bjarni’s free arm ran across
Eadwulf side, slow and gentle, rubbing against his stomach and pressing down
firmly. Eadwulf gasped at the touch, forcing him closer to Bjarni. The Viking’s
exploration of Eadwulf’s slender body continued, across his chest and hardened
nipples, and Eadwulf bit his lip to keep quiet. He didn’t want to sigh or moan
in pleasure at the tender touches, and he tried to keep still. “You’re so
smooth,” Bjarni said quietly into his ear, his fingers circling around
Eadwulf’s left nipple.

He was glad that Bjarni didn’t seem to
care about his lack of hair, that the Viking appeared to like it, even. “It’s
warmer where we live,” he replied.

The Viking laughed, and Eadwulf felt it
against his back, a huff of warm breath across his cold shoulder. “It can be
warm here too, my little wolf, especially at night.”

There was an invitation there, and
Eadwulf felt himself blush as Bjarni poured water down his back and over his
head, making him wince when the cold droplets from his curls dripped down his
neck. The water took dark mud with it, leaving Eadwulf’s skin paler and clean.
The Viking then went to rub Eadwulf’s arms in slow, long strokes until those
were clean as well, but Eadwulf felt himself sigh with relief when one strong
arm went around his waist again to hold him close.

“Don’t you feel better now?” Bjarni
asked, nuzzling Eadwulf’s cheek. The rasp of the Viking’s beard against his
neck made Eadwulf gasp and tilt his head back to give Bjarni more space.
“Cleaner?” the Viking murmured, his voice low in Eadwulf’s ear.

Eadwulf stared up at the bright blue
sky, immensely grateful that the cold water kept his cock from hardening. He
had never felt the stirrings of lust so strongly before. “Yes,” he gasped.

“Good.” Suddenly, he felt Bjarni’s arm
wrap tighter around his waist, and with a grunt from the Viking, Eadwulf was
lifted up, his feet and legs dangling uselessly in the water.

“Hey,” Eadwulf spluttered, kicking his
feet back against Bjarni’s strong legs. “Put me down!”

Bjarni ignored his protests, and his
free hand started to rub Eadwulf’s hips and thighs. “I have to clean you
properly, thrall.” The new position meant Bjarni’s soft cock was nestled
between Eadwulf’s cheeks, and Eadwulf’s struggles only made him more aware of
that fact.

He stopped struggling, panting to catch
his breath. It was useless, Bjarni was far stronger than him, so it was better
to save his strength and enjoy being clean. He wondered if this would be a
regular occurrence, if Bjarni would drag him to the lake and make him strip
down more often.

Bjarni’s hands wandered from Eadwulf’s
thighs to his cock, and the first touch made Eadwulf struggle again. No one
else had ever touched him there, and the feeling of those big fingers increased
the lust whirling inside of Eadwulf. It was a lust he didn’t want to feel for
this Viking, not for any man who had taken him from his home. “You must be
cleaned everywhere,” Bjarni told him, his mouth only a few inches away from
Eadwulf’s ear. His hand was now closed around Eadwulf’s cock, moving up and
down slowly. Eadwulf had no doubt that if he wasn’t in cold water, his cock
would be hard right now. As it was, he could barely keep himself from thrusting
into the Viking’s grip.