A Viking's Prize (M+/M+) - Conclusion posted 8/6/20

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DeeperThanRed
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

Things are going to get rough... Roderick is really willing to sacrifice so much for Thomas.

Farl and Bjorn are really effective antagonists, btw. They are ruthless but you can see their motives without being overtly evil.
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WyattW5
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Post by WyattW5 »

not bad keep it up

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Post by bondagefreak »

@WyattW5 Not bad?
May I inquire as to what strange planet you're living on where "not bad" is a form of compliment?

You're lucky the readership here mostly stays silent instead of spewing comments that denote this level of condescension on your own works.

Since this is your second "not bad" comment on this thread, here's my suggestion:
If this is not your cup of tea, then refrain from reading and/or commenting.

@wataru14
Magnificent writing!
You spin these sentences with ease, and it makes the reading experience a breeze.

I for one, am thrilled you are pressing on with this griping tale!
Can't wait for Part 5.
Really enjoying this!
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Post by george_bound »

Well well well, despite what the rest of the ship's occupants thought, seeing Roddy and Thomas tied together back to back giving each other the touchy-feelies certainly gave me the tingles ;) Looking forward to seeing how the lordling's favour for Bjorn pans out and if the blond brute keeps his word!
Bondage gets real when your mind is pleading with every muscle in your body to get the hell loose :shock:

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Post by WyattW5 »

bondagefreak wrote:
2 weeks ago
@WyattW5 Not bad?
May I inquire as to what strange planet you're living on where "not bad" is a form of compliment?

You're lucky the readership here mostly stays silent instead of spewing comments that denote this level of condescension on your own works.

Since this is your second "not bad" comment on this thread, here's my suggestion:
If this is not your cup of tea, then refrain from reading and/or commenting.

@wataru14
Magnificent writing!
You spin these sentences with ease, and it makes the reading experience a breeze.

I for one, am thrilled you are pressing on with this griping tale!
Can't wait for Part 5.
Really enjoying this!

I mean no offence, I like the content I am reading from wataru14 I am just a little mild with my wording. I apologize to @wataru14 if they have taken offence to my replies.

My sincerest apologies.

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Post by wataru14 »

No worries. I took no offense. Support has been overwhelming so far and I am happy to get any feedback. I understand people express themselves differently and I am grateful that you commented!

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Post by wataru14 »

Part 5: The Hammer Falls

Roderick spent the day watching the workers through the window. Thomas worked his hardest, but nothing was good enough for Farl. He was subjected to cruel treatment by the Viking taskmaster all day – being denied water, beaten with clubs for “laziness” when he could not move as fast as Farl demanded, having extra weights added to his already heavy yoke… Roderick had to turn away several times. Around midafternoon, Thomas caught Roderick’s gaze and the shame in his face was far worse than any abuse Farl could steep upon him. He could not bear for Roderick to see him this way. Roderick walked away from the window after that and did not go back.

For the remainder of the day he was alone with his thoughts. The impending dread of Bjorn’s visit settled in his mind and made the hairs on his neck stand up. He stewed for the entire afternoon. Bjorn stumbled into the lodge shortly after sunset, the smell of mead heavy on his breath. Roderick rose to meet him. Saying nothing, Bjorn scooped Roderick up and threw him over his shoulder like a bag of grain. Roderick watched the rest of the house recede as he was carried backwards into Bjorn’s bedroom atop the raider’s wide shoulders.

The massive warrior tossed him callously onto the bed. “Your task is complete,” Bjorn finally said. “The lad is free from Farl’s control and will be sent to the smithy in the morning. He is to receive no further punishment tonight at the jarl’s command.”

A weight disappeared from Roderick’s soul. He was worried that Farl would vent his fury on Thomas this night, but Bjorn had thought of that and prepared. “Truth be told,” Bjorn said, “the lad impressed a great many today. He did more work than any thought he would be able. He endured his punishments without crying out. He showed his mettle and it did not go unnoticed. Shame he was not born one of us”

Roderick beamed with pride. But his moment was short-lived as Bjorn began to remove his tunic. “And now,” he said, “it is time for my payment.”

Until now, Roderick had not been able to get a solid look at Bjorn. The man’s chest was as wide as a fortress wall and covered in a pelt of thick blonde hair. The flesh of his arms and chest was adorned with ornate tattoos and brand scars in the shape of the Nordic Runes. His long beard was braided, and the hair on his head was shaved on the sides and braided in an intricate style. He looked about thirty. Under all the armor and furs he normally wore, he had seemed older before.

Roderick stared in awe at the specimen that stood before him, but was even more aghast when the giant removed his breeches and loin coverings. Bjorn’s member was as large as the rest of him – and began to swell as he saw Roderick’s apprehension and growing fear. Bjorn reached down and grabbed Roderick’s tunic with both hands. He pulled in two directions and tore the garment to shreds. He grabbed Roderick and flipped him over, shoving him face-first onto the bed. With catlike grace, shocking in a man so large, Bjorn lept to the bed and took a position behind and above the trembling nobleman. Roderick felt his breeches and loincloth being torn off him. He braced himself for what was to follow… but nothing happened.

Confused, Roderick was about to get up, but Bjorn held him down tightly. He smelled the giant’s breath as Bjorn brought his face even with his ear.

“I will not take from you what is not freely given,” Bjorn whispered. “I have done so on the battlefield many times, but not here. I have seen what you have with the young smith. It is tender and good. And that is what I desire right now. Violence and ugliness I can have whenever I please. But beauty cannot be forced. This must be your choice, lordling.”

Shivers rippled through Roderick’s body at the man’s touch, amplified by the low baritone of his voice. At that moment he knew that he wanted this. He had wanted it ever since the giant stepped out of the alley pulling the towline of his net. The sense of danger, the allure of the forbidden, the overwhelming maleness of Bjorn heightened Roderick’s awareness and arousal.

“I…” he stammered. “…I do freely give it.”

Bjorn smiled and petted Roderick’s hair. “I had hoped you would say that.” Bjorn reached down under the bed and produced two strong ropes. Getting off of the noble’s back, he secured one end of each to the bedposts. Flipping Roderick over onto his back, Bjorn secured the other end of each rope to one of Roderick’s wrists and tied them tightly. The young lord was now securely tied to the bedframe not unlike one strapped to the rack in a castle dungeon. Bjorn climbed back up on the bed and took up Roderick’s ankles, one in each hand. He pushed them forward, past Roderick’s head, forcing the noble’s posterior to jut out.

Roderick was not prepared for Bjorn’s girth when the giant entered him, but the ripples of ecstasy that cascaded through him made him forget the initial pain. In fact, Roderick could do very little thinking while Bjorn ravished him. But “ravished” was not the right word. Bjorn was firm, but not harsh. His touch was gentle, but commanding. Roderick soon gave in to his desire and moaned with pleasure as the Viking giant had his way with him. When they were done, Bjorn untied Roderick’s hands and let the captive noble sleep in the bed with him. Roderick idly played with the hair on Bjorn’s chest as they drifted off to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------

Bjorn was already gone when Roderick rose the next morning. He still ached from the previous night, but was not upset by that. He had never experienced lovemaking like that before and was surprised at how shaken he was from the experience. He had seen a whole new side of Bjorn last night. There was more to him than his size and ferocity. There was a tenderness there, buried deep inside. Roderick was hungry for more.

But Roderick did not see Bjorn after their encounter. He found out from the housekeeper thralls that the warriors took the ship out at first light so they could meet up with the messenger and bring him home with the response to the ransom letter. It seemed that Roderick would be returning home soon. His heart was filled with pain at the thought of leaving Thomas behind, but he convinced himself that it would be temporary and that he would come and rescue him soon.

Several days passed in relative calm. Thomas toiled all day at the forge under his new master and slept on a straw mat in the smithy at night. Farl had stayed behind to protect the village and still harassed him whenever possible, but his ability to administer corporal punishment was gone. He would often complain that Thomas “sassed him” or “did shoddy work,” but the old smith just shrugged it off. The boy was a good worker and the smith had taken a shine to him. He placated Farl by saying he would discipline the thrall in private, but then promptly dropped the matter. After a day or so, Farl gave up entirely. Although he still seethed whenever he passed by the forge.

Thomas’s demeanor had vastly improved and he was becoming quite popular with the other villagers, it seemed. They were impressed by his strength and workmanship and would often stop to converse with him while the ironworks were cooling. Thomas was easy to get along with, Roderick mused. But the lad was no fool. He was aware of his station in the community and acted accordingly – showing proper deference to the Norsemen. He often asked them about their ways and customs, which impressed them greatly.

Through gossip with the women who came to tend the house, Roderick found out that several village women had asked the smith about “renting Thomas’s services.” There was more than one night when a leash was attached to Thomas’ thrall collar and he was led off by a buxom Viking fishwife to her bedchamber. Such things were not frowned upon when the menfolk were away, Roderick learned.

When the ship finally returned, Roderick felt uneasy. Something was wrong. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what, but he could tell that there was something foul afoot. The jarl was in an especially bitter mood when he stepped off the gangplank onto the wharf. Bjorn stormed over to the lodge and came inside, an angry look on his face.

“You!” he bellowed. “Lordling. Come here!”

Roderick was afraid. Bjorn was stern, but there was an edge to his voice that he had not seen since he had been here. Not even during his capture. He emerged from the hall and stood before Bjorn.

“You’re back,” he said. “What news from my father…”

Roderick did not get to finish his question. Bjorn grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, forcing him against the wall of the lodge and wrenching his hands behind his back. He grabbed leather cords from his belt and cruelly lashed Roderick’s hands together. Roderick had not been bound since their bedroom encounter a week before, so this came as a shock to him. As did the tightness of his bonds. He was not restrained so thoroughly when he was first captured! Bjorn must be in an especially foul mood, Roderick thought. Without saying a word, Bjorn shoved Roderick towards the door. With no choice but to comply, Roderick marched outside.

The jarl and the villagers had gathered in the square. Roderick got a sinking feeling in his gut and paused, but Bjorn gave him a strong push and he continued walking. When he reached the jarl, he was shoved down to his knees in the dirt at the man’s feet.

“We have received a response from Earl Bamford,” the jarl snorted. He summoned the messenger, who held a parchment in his hand. He unrolled it and began to read.

“I had always known your people to be cruel and without honor,” he read, “but I am shocked to the core at your foul attempt at extortion. My son, Roderick, was slain battling your heathen kind during your cowardly raid on my vassal village and even now lies interred at our estate. If you have captured one of my fighting men who falsely claims to be my son, then more the fools be you.

“His craven attempt to save his own life will not wrench a farthing from my purse. Slay him if you wish. It burdens me not and may God have mercy on him. Leave me and my wife to grieve and vacate my home. Trouble my subjects no more or I will hunt you down with my knights and exterminate you in your heathen hovels. Were it not for the sacred laws of hospitality I would send your messenger’s head back with this letter to pay you back for your cruel joke. Signed the Earl of Bamford.”

Roderick knelt in shock. A sudden realization hit him. This was his father’s plan all along! He didn’t want to just eliminate Thomas, he wanted to eliminate Roderick as well! He must have taken one of the fallen fighting men and buried his body in Roderick’s place, telling the earldom that his son had bravely fallen in battle! Roderick’s head spun. He vaguely heard the jarl talking, but couldn’t make out the words. He snapped back to attention when the back of Bjorn’s hand struck his face.

“…so either you have been lying to us this entire time to save your own skin,” the jarl said. “Or your father has decided to cut his losses and disown you.”

“He is not lying, my jarl,” Bjorn said. “I snared him myself. The armor and signet ring he carried mark him as a true noble. He is who he claims. It seems his father values his gold more than his son’s life. But what do you expect from cowards who send others to do their fighting for them?”

“It is of no importance anymore” the jarl said. “If he will fetch no ransom, we have no more need of him.” The jarl snapped his fingers and two Norsemen grabbed Roderick off the ground and dragged him over to a wooden stump near the edge of the square. Roderick fought with all his might but the men who held him were mighty and he thrashed in vain against their grip. He was shoved down on his knees and laid on top of the stump face-down. His struggling body was lashed down with leather straps and a gag was cruelly shoved in his mouth to silence his curses.

A woven basket was placed at the foot of the stump in front of Roderick. It smelled foul and the bottom was stained black with ichor. He turned his head to Bjorn, pleading with his eyes and screaming into his gag. Apart, in the crowd, Thomas stood tremblin. The smith’s meaty hand rested on his shoulder. With sympathetic eyes, the smith looked at Thomas and sadly shook his head. Thomas fell to his knees as Farl approached Roderick, grinning evilly and holding a heavy axe in his hands.

Coming Soon: Part 6 – The Hammer and the Headsman

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Last edited by wataru14 1 week ago, edited 1 time in total.

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Post by Volobond »

Ooh, a shocking cliffhanger! Although I am hoping that Thomas and Roderick may find themselves a place with the Vikings... perhaps with Bjorn?
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Post by george_bound »

Well it looks like poor Roddy got screwed twice this chapter! I'm very hopeful he won't be executed but rather shackled and kept away ;) Good continuing saga, @wataru14 !
Bondage gets real when your mind is pleading with every muscle in your body to get the hell loose :shock:

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Post by WyattW5 »

Now there is an unexpected turn I like it. loved the description you gave Roderick watching Thomas work under Farls cruelty. and Bjorns desire for tenderness did not go unnoticed. a good chapter.

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Post by DeeperThanRed »

Roderick's father isn't going to win the prize for being the father of the year any time soon. What a dick.

It seemed things were going fine for the two lads, aside from being used as properties, but not sure how they're going to get out of this predicament. I can't wait to see where this goes.
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Post by Boundcurious »

Your writing style really is excellent. Hats off to you! And goodness, I can’t wait to find out what will happen!

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Post by wataru14 »

Part 6 – The Hammer and the Headsman

Farl started directly at Thomas as he raised the axe, a cruel sneer on his lips. Thomas sprang to his feet, but the old smith held him in place. “If you move now, boy, he’ll kill you next for interfering,” the smith said. Thomas didn’t care. He shook off the smith’s hand and started to push through the crowd as Farl raised the axe. Just as Thomas reached the front ring of onlookers…

“Stop!” Bjorn shouted.

Farl paused in mid-swing from the sheer force of command in Bjorn’s voice. Roderick, his body tense in anticipation of the axe blow, opened his eyes in disbelief. There was a tense silence. “Jarl,” Bjorn finally said, “I claim this one.”

The jarl frowned. “It is your right,” he said. “I cannot refuse.”

“What????” Farl cried, “what treachery is this?”

“He is mine, Farl,” Bjorn said, crossing to the stump. “In all our raids I have never taken a thrall of my own. I have given up my claims on all for the good of the village. I captured this one. Now, I am claiming what I am due.”

“So you seek to emasculate me twice in one week, Bjorn?” Farl said, still holding the axe. “I, who have shed blood with you and shielded your life countless times? You throw that away for a musclebound thrall and a cast-off third son?”

Bjorn leveled his gaze at Farl. “I seek only what is mine,” he said. “If you take it as an injury to your pride, then that is your choice, but it is not meant as such. The other one serves the village better as a smith than as an ox and I have developed a fondness for this one’s hole. You would get so angry over one who would let another man violate him so? I would think such thoughts beneath your notice.”

Farl let out a hearty laugh. “Oho! So that’s it,” he said. “It looks like Bjorn has finally taken a wife!” He dropped the axe into the sand and put his arm over Bjorn’s shoulder. “You are right, my brother. It is not seemly to let a woman come between us. We shall leave him here and drink to your ‘engagement.’ You can properly collar him afterwards.”

Bjorn nodded and the two walked off arm in arm. The crowd, disappointed, began to disburse. When they were completely gone, the smith nodded to Thomas. He ran to Roderick and knelt before him, removed his gag, and kissed him. Roderick tried to shift his weight, but could not due to the straps that lashed him to the stump. “Oh Roddy…” he said.

“Do not fret, Thomas,” Roderick said, settling down from its terrified state. “We live. And while we live, there is hope.”

“I cannot tarry long,” Thomas said, giving Roderick a drink of water. “But I have a plan. Just endure your lot for now and I will fix everything as soon as I can. I hope…”

The smith shouted for Thomas to come back as a wench crossed nearby, carrying plates of food for the warriors. He quickly obeyed and came to heel, following his master to join the other Vikings at revelry. Roderick laid on the stump and waited. All his senses were amplified, an aftereffect of being so close to death, and he listened to the Norsemen as they made cruel jibes at him and his current station.

A while later, Bjorn and Farl drunkenly staggered over to Roderick and released the straps that held him down. “Get up,” Bjorn ordered. Struggling with his still-bound hands, Roderick clumsily rose to his feet. Bjorn held out a heavy iron collar, the same as the one Thomas wore. “I saved your worthless life,” Bjorn said. “And now that life is mine to do with as I please.” Bjorn fitted the collar around Roderick’s neck and locked it closed.

“That was it,” Roderick thought. He was no longer Roderick of House Bamford. He was now a thrall. A slave to the hulking Norsemen.

He trembled as Bjorn’s hands explored his body. “And I shall make good use of that life,” Bjorn said. “Farl, my brother,” Bjorn said. “The nectar of this one is sweet. Would you like to taste it yourself?”

Farl thought for a moment and glanced over his shoulder at the throng of Vikings eating and drinking nearby. Thomas stood at the smith’s side, his eyes fixed on the scene in the square. Fury burned within him. Farl met his gaze and grinned. He turned back to Bjorn and said, “It is not right for another to despoil a man’s property before the master does. I will join you, but I will let you take him first while I watch. Then we will take him together.”

Farl grabbed Roderick by the face and inspected his mouth like he would a horse. “Yes,” he said, “this one will be a fine slave.”

Laughing, Bjorn guided the still-bound Roderick back to his lodge, Farl trailing behind.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Roderick was laid up for two days after his encounter with the two raiders. Bjorn retained his previous tenderness somewhat, but Farl was not so courteous. He was rough and angry. He struck Roderick several times as he used him, at one point leaning in and whispering into Roddy’s ear. “If you were not owned by my brother-in-arms I would tear you apart just to punish that smith thrall you care about so much. Don’t worry, I have plans for him, too. He has not yet seen true suffering.”

When he was able to walk again, Roderick spent his days tending to the house and running errands in town for Bjorn. He was not made to toil in the fields as the others were. When others in the village would treat with him, he noticed they spoke to him as they did the women thralls. This puzzled him. While it is true that Bjorn had shorn his beard off him when he was enslaved, he was still a man, wasn’t he? They did not speak thus to the other male slaves.

Roderick’s tasks often took him to the smithy at Bjorn’s behest. For this he was grateful for it allowed him to be close to Thomas, even if for a short fleeting time. Bjorn was a stern master, but not cruel and not unfair. He used Roddy nightly for his pleasures, but Roddy found enjoyment in that, too. Reports of Viking stamina were certainly not exaggerated.

After two weeks of this routine, Roderick was sent to the smithy to retrieve a shield of Bjorn’s that was out for repair. He decided to ask Thomas about the way he was being treated. “Why is it that the others speak to me so?” he asked. “They call me ‘woman’ in their tongue, thinking I do not understand. They do not speak of you or the others in this way.”

“They have no word for what we are,” Thomas answered, wiping sweat off his brow. “If a man takes another man, they can understand that. It is the nature of a man to dominate whatever he pleases. But to be penetrated by another man makes you lesser in their eyes. They associate it with the female and with submission, so that is how they see you. It may seem like an insult, but trust me when I say it is not. They are just unsure of how to address you. Pay it no heed.”

Roderick looked around to make sure no one could see them and kissed Thomas. “I am trying to convince Bjorn to request your services from the smith for some job or other,” he said. “You will stay the night and I can come visit you. Bjorn won’t mind.”

“I look forward to it,” Thomas said, giving Roddy’s nethers a playfull squeeze. “It has been too long since I tasted your ‘sweet nectar…’”

“You two!” The pair stopped in their tracks as Farl loomed in the doorway. “Smith! There is a cart waiting outside with things I need repaired. Bring them in.” Thomas nodded and walked outside to get to work. Farl advanced on Roddy, “And you would be well-advised to not go tramping around without your master’s permission. You would do him great dishonor to cuckold him like that.”

Roderick lowered his eyes, “I… understand. I am sorry.”

“Now begone before I inform him of your treachery,” Farl threatened. Roderick nodded and hurried out, not looking at Thomas as he went.

The next day, Roderick awoke to a clamor in the town. He dressed and ran to the window to see what was going on. A crowd had gathered in front of the smithy. Roderick gasped as he saw Thomas being dragged out by two Viking warriors, his hands forcefully bound behind his back. Bjorn emerged from the bedroom and pushed past Roddy, heading outside. “Stay here,” he said, and joined the crowd.

Farl emerged from the smithy carrying a small sack. He opened it and pulled out a gold chalice. “The boy is a thief!” he cried. “I knew something was amiss when I came here yesterday so I had the smith search his quarters and we found this!”

Roderick gasped. The chalice was Bjorn’s. It was one of the plundered artifacts that Bjorn kept on his mantel as a trophy. He glanced at the fireplace and saw that it was, indeed gone. When was the last time he had seen it? It was… the night he was enslaved and Farl had come inside. He must have taken it in secret while the others slept just for this purpose!

Bjorn grabbed the chalice and studied it. “How did you get this, boy?” he demanded.

Thomas looked up at Bjorn. “I have never seen it before,” he said. “I have never even been near your lodge.”

Bjorn furrowed his brow in thought. “That is true,” he said.

“Then he must have had an accomplice!” Farl said. “Your thrall and this one come from the same castle. He stole it and gave it to this one. They probably wanted to escape together and sell it for money!”

The crowd gasped and murmured. Bjorn stood dumbfounded.

“Lies!” Thomas shouted. Farl backhanded him across the face.

“Do not compound your crime with false denials, thrall!” Farl barked. “Stealing is bad enough, but plotting to disgrace your lover’s master is a far worse thing!”

The crowd roared and Bjorn seethed with rage. He knew of Roderick’s desire and was going to allow it, but discreetly. Farl must have overheard them talking, he thought. Farl looked at Bjorn with smug satisfaction. “What say you, Bjorn?”

Bjorn gritted his teeth. He had to save face. There was no other choice. “Drag him out here,” he said. “To the post with them both.”

Farl smiled as he waved two warriors in the direction of Bjorn’s lodge. Roderick didn’t resist as they descended on him. They held his hands in front of him and bound his wrists. They tore his tunic from his body and paraded him outside past the crowd.

Thomas had been dragged over to a thick wooden post in the square. His hands had been bound in front of him as well and hoisted high above his head. He was pressed face-first against the post and stretched so that he stood on the balls of his feet. Roderick was shoved to a post next to him and stretched similarly.

“For the crimes of theft most foul and conspiring to commit adultery I sentence you both to 10 lashes,” Farl said. Bjorn’s iron grey eyes stared straight ahead. He did not believe the charges and suspected Farl’s hand in this, but dared not undercut his compatriot publicly. Roderick was white with fright. He wanted to cry out, beg for mercy and deny the charges, but Thomas looked at him and shook his head. He’s right, Roderick thought. It would do Bjorn even more dishonor.

Farl readied his whip and brought it hard across Thomas’s back. “CRACK!” Thomas winced as the lash struck him again and again, but he did not cry out. He would not give Farl the satisfaction. He endured each lash, even as the gashes formed on his broad back. After the tenth was done, he slumped down in his bonds. His chest heaved and bile filled his mouth, but he did not cry out. The crowd whispered and murmured to themselves.

“And now your turn, ‘Young Lordling!’” Farl sneered, approaching Roderick. Roderick steeled himself for the blow.

Just then Thomas shouted. With all the power he could muster, he cried out a single word, then passed out from the strain.

“Holmgang!”

The word echoed through the square and the crowd fell silent.

Coming Soon: Part 7 - Holmgang

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Last edited by wataru14 1 week ago, edited 1 time in total.

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Post by WyattW5 »

a shame I was hoping Farl and Bjorn were going to fight them out like ravenous wolves. oh well. a good chapter keep going.

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Post by bondagefreak »

@wataru14
Apologies for my silence these last couple days.

I'm enjoying this story tremendously.
I'm so glad you happened to (unbeknownst to you) be the one to take up my resquest for this genre.

You certainly do it justice.

I'm visiting relatives this week and only have limited web access. But when I get back home I'll be posting proper reviews.
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Post by Volobond »

Oof, stupid Farl makes me so angry... I'm hoping for a happy ending between Thomas and Roderick (and Bjorn, haha).
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Post by wataru14 »

I'm glad that Farl elicits such feelings. I was worried he was too cartoony as a villain. I hope his motivations seem realistic. I don't want him to be outlandish (saving that for a future superhero story...) There are only two more parts left, so keep an eye out on part 7 for more developments with Farl!

dahanband
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Post by dahanband »

this story is wonderful, thank you. but, why characters is not to be bound and gagged?

of course, more gagged...

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Post by wataru14 »

They do get bound, and Roderick was gagged in the last part. I admit I've been a little lax in the gagging overall, though. I will definitely fix that in the next installment!

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Post by bondagefreak »

dahanband wrote:
1 week ago
this story is wonderful, thank you. but, why characters is not to be bound and gagged?

of course, more gagged...
Thralls and captives that vikings and most other civilizations kept had to be productive and be able to perform manual labor or complex tasks.

Female and male servants who were taken as "wives" of norsemen warriors were often made to perform household duties; cooking, cleaning, laundering, etc.

The punishment for a failed attempt at fleeing would have been more than enough to keep even the most rebellious of slaves in line.


Even more so that the surrounding lanscape was cold and barren and the towns and cities so few and so far in between.

Escape would've been nearly impossible.
Hence the lack of bondage.
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dahanband
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Post by dahanband »

bondagefreak wrote:
1 week ago
dahanband wrote:
1 week ago
this story is wonderful, thank you. but, why characters is not to be bound and gagged?

of course, more gagged...
Thralls and captives that vikings and most other civilizations kept had to be productive and be able to perform manual labor or complex tasks.

Female and male servants who were taken as "wives" of norsemen warriors were often made to perform household duties; cooking, cleaning, laundering, etc.

The punishment for a failed attempt at fleeing would have been more than enough to keep even the most rebellious of slaves in line.


Even more so that the surrounding lanscape was cold and barren and the towns and cities so few and so far in between.

Escape would've been nearly impossible.
Hence the lack of bondage.



All , that's right.. But the name of this site is " tug stories "


As a visitor, I like to read related content to have fun!
 

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Post by wataru14 »

Part 7 – Holmgang

A stunned silence hung in the air. Then scattered murmuring. Farl scoffed and raised his whip again.

“STOP!” the jarl bellowed. Farl froze at the force of command in the older man’s voice. “A challenge has been issued.”

“You can’t take this seriously!” Farl exclaimed. “He has no right to issue Holmgag.” Several warriors grunted in agreement.

“Our laws dictate that any man, of any social status, can issue Holmgag,” Bjorn said. “The lore makes no mention of barring thralls.”

The jarl rubbed his chin in thought. “This matter requires discussion,” he said. “But not here. In any case the lad is in no condition to make good on his challenge. Take them down and bind them fast to the poles. I convene a moot of all the men in the Great Lodge. We will discuss this matter there.” The jarl turned and left. Farl threw his whip to the ground in a rage and stormed off after him.

Bjorn went to Roderick and released him from his bonds. Roderick stood there abashed.

“Why did you not ask me if you wanted the smith thrall?” he said. “Have I been cruel or unreasonable with you?”

“…no” Roderick stammered. “I was going to ask permission. I really was. But Farl… We didn’t steal the chalice. I swear it!”

“I know,” Bjorn said. “Farl must have done it and planted it. It’s clear this was his aim.” Bjorn guided Roderick to his kness, pressing his back against the post. He gently took his thrall’s hands and brought them behind, where he skillfully bound them with leather thongs.

“Please, sir,” Roderick said. “What is ‘Holmgang?’”

Bjorn began looping rope around Roderick’s chest, securing him to the pole. “It is one of our sacred traditions,” he said. “Any man, regardless of status, can challenge another to combat as a means of addressing a grievance. They set terms and battle.”

Roderick gasped as the ropes tightened around him.

“The fights are to the death. Usually. Sometimes they are declared nonlethal, but traditionally the loser is slain in the battle.”

“What if the challenged refuses?”

“He cannot,” Bjorn said as he released the unconscious Thomas and gently lowered him to his knees. “To do so brings great shame. A man who refuses, even if challenged by a clearly superior foe, is declared outlaw and shunned. A fate worse than death in battle. If he falls to an enemy sword he is welcomed to Valhalla. An outlaw gets no such honor.”

Bjorn began to bind Thomas the way he did Roderick. “They are discussing whether the challenge is valid or not,” Bjorn said as he secured Thomas’s wrists. “It is unclear if thralls can issue the challenge or not. That is what is being discussed. But I think in this case, at least, it will be accepted. Thomas is popular in the town and many have noted Farl’s unusual fixation with him. They respect the boy for his mettle and fortitude. Many have lamented that he was not born one of us. His challenge will be accepted.”

Roderick lifted his head.

“But don’t get your hopes up,” Bjorn said, placing his hand on Roderick’s cheek. “Farl is undefeated in battle. He has slain knights and men-at-arms. He will make short work of the lad. Still, the skalds will sing of this one’s courage long after he is gone.” Bjorn gave Roderick a sad look and left for the Great Lodge.

Thomas awoke nearly an hour later and the moot was showing no signs of ending. The debate must have been heated. Thomas blinked his eyes a few times and glanced at Roderick. Seeing the unscarred back pressed against the post, he smiled.

“What have you done?” Roderick shouted. “That man is a killer! I can endure a whipping or two but I cannot endure losing you. Bjorn said…”

“Damn Bjorn to Hell!” Thomas barked. “This is no life. Serving at the beck and call of another and living in servitude. Was my life any different at your father’s castle? If I win, I get glory. If I lose… then at least I am free.”

“You’re beginning to sound like them,” Roderick said.

Two hours later, three warriors emerged from the Great Lodge. Without speaking, they went to Thomas and released the ropes that held him to the post. They rebound his hands behind his back and brought him to his feet. “Come with us,” one grunted. With one last look at Roderick, Thomas followed them inside.

The men filed out a while later. Farl was first and he was in a fouler mood than Roderick had ever seen. He went directly to his lodge and slammed the door. Thomas came out, still bound and accompanied by the smith, and was taken straight back to the forge.

Bjorn came to Roderick. “It is done,” he said, and began to remove the bindings. “His challenge was accepted, but just barely.”

“What were the terms?” Roderick asked as the ropes fell away.

“It will be to the death,” Bjorn said. “It would not have been accepted otherwise. Many feared other thralls would take up his example and issue challenges to their masters wantonly. If the price of failure is death, it will dissuade them. Other than that, it is not my place to discuss such things with you. You will know when the battle is done.”

Bjorn helped Roderick up and escorted him back to the lodge.

-----------------------------------

Thomas was given time to recover from his whipping. Farl protested, but he was overruled. It would be no honorable contest if the lad couldn’t even stand. Thomas still had to work in the forge while he healed, but the smith gave him light duty. The contest was all the village talked about in the following days and Roderick listened to their gossip as he ran about doing Bjorn’s errands. The people seemed rather evenly divided. Half felt that Thomas had earned the honor of combat and thought Farl was taking his obsession with the slave too far. Half felt that their traditions were being mocked and that the gods would smite them for letting a thrall make such a challenge.

Roderick dared not go into the forge himself. Bjorn had forbidden it, but beyond that he knew it would look bad for Thomas. People still whispered about them and Roderick sought to stifle that. He did make sure that Thomas saw him pass by, however. He would sneak a wave and a blown kiss when he was sure they were unobserved. Roderick kept up a brave face, but his heart was in knots. He would never beat Farl. Roderick knew it, but Thomas kept up his bravado as was expected. Many stopped to revile him, and he took it with strength and stoicism, but equally as many came to encourage him.

The day before the battle was to be held, Thomas was in high spirits. He seemed to have regained his full strength, although his back would be forever marked by Farl’s whip. He seemed to pay it no heed as the others in the village viewed scars as a sign of honor. Roderick did his usual pass by the forge and Thomas saw him and smiled. Roderick winked, then quickly averted his eyes and hurried off, dropping a small wrapped package on the ground outside.

The street was barren, so Thomas put down his hammer and retrieved the package. Opening it, he found a few pieces of honeyed bread that Roderick had been making for Bjorn and a folded white cloth. Upon the cloth was a card, written in Latin so the Norsemen could not read it, that said “A token for my knight to carry into battle.” Thomas smiled and stowed the package in his bunk.

The next morning at sunrise the whole village gathered in the square. The fire pit had been moved and the ground had been flattened. Four posts marked the corners of the battle arena. If any man willingly went beyond these borders, he would forfeit in shame. Bjorn and the other veteran warriors had seats of honor in front near the jarl, and their slaves stood with them to attend their needs. Roderick did not want to go, but Bjorn insisted. “It would not be seemly for you not to be there,” he warned. “And I think this is something you need to see.”

Farl stood in one corner. He was clad in his usual leather and furs and carried a wooden shield and his handaxe. Several warriors stood near him. Thomas stood alone on the other side. Each man was allowed to only use their own weapons and armor, but since Thomas had none he was permitted to use the smith’s. The armor was ill-fitted and old. His shield was in fine shape, though, as was his longsword. Thomas had no skill with axe-fighting so he would be wielding a knight’s sword that the smith had plundered from a raid in his youth and maintained over the years.

As the terms were being re-stated for the crowd, Farl let his gaze wander. His eyes fell on Roderick, standing near Bjorn at the edge of the fighting area and he narrowed his gaze. “Jarl,” he said. “I have a request.”

The jarl turned to him. “What is it?” he asked.

Farl pointed at Roderick with his axe. “I do not trust that one. These two could be plotting escape and using our sacred rites as a smokescreen. Or else he could throw sand in my eyes should I come near him. He does not know our ways and should not be here to see this.”

The jarl considered this for a second, but Bjorn stood up. “He will not interfere,” Bjorn said, “upon penalty of death. But if you are still concerned, Farl, I will bind him.”

“Do it,” Farl sneered. “And gag him tightly, too. I don’t want to hear his woman’s cries as I dispatch his lover.”

Bjorn reeled from Farl’s words. They were as much an insult to him as to Roderick. “It will be done,” Bjorn said. “But know this, Farl, if such disrespect to me continues, you might find yourself with another opponent in the Holmgang soon enough.” The crowd fell silent at the tension as the two Norsemen stared at each other. Farl looked away first.

With the tension broken, Bjorn took Roderick’s hands and positioned them behind his back. The leather thongs went back and forth, up and down, over and under, securing the thrall’s hands with no chance of loosening. Roderick noted that the bonds were not uncomfortably tight, just thorough and secure. With a wink that none but the two of them saw, Bjorn called for more ropes. He bound Roderick’s knees and ankles with the same expert knots that held his hands. He took even more and wove an elaborate harness around Roderick’s chest and arms. He was completely immobile, unable to do more than feebly wiggle.

Some of the crowd began to laugh. “But I am not done!” Bjorn bellowed. He took three thick cloths in hand. One he smashed up into a tight ball, which he shoved deep into Roderick’s mouth. His thick fingers made sure that none of the cloth stuck out. He rolled the second cloth into a long strip and tied a knot in the middle. He placed the knot behind Roderick’s teeth and tied it off behind his head. The laughter increased as Bjorn took the third cloth and folded it into a wide band, which he used to cover the entire lower half of Roderick’s face – from nose to chin.

Finally, Bjorn laid Roderick down on his stomach with his head facing the arena. He used the last length of rope to secure Roderick’s ankles to his chest harness and pulled it tight, so Roderick was bent in an awkward bow position. Finished with tying his prisoner, Bjorn turned to Farl. “I hope he is restrained to your satisfaction,” he said. “Rest assured that he can no longer threaten you. You are very wise to demand such precaution with this dangerous individual. Fear not, you are safe from him.”

Farl reeled at the obvious attack on his manhood and the crowd howled with laughter. From behind his thick gag, Roderick laughed as well, even though only a muffled grunting could be heard. “Let’s just have it done,” Farl said.

Roderick squirmed in the ropes and looked over at Thomas, who was concentrating and steeling his courage. When their gazes met, Thomas took the cloth Roderick had secretly given him and tied it over his head in the manner that he customarily wore in the forge. The two looked at each other for a moment, then the jarl called the fighters to their places.

After the customary invocations to the heathen Norse gods, asking for valorous combat and for the loser’s soul to be welcomed in Valhalla, the jarl began the combat. Farl immediately tore into Thomas with all his might. He swung his axe with a ferocity that would cleave a man in two. Thomas raised his shield at the last moment and the axe blade embedded in the wood. Thomas took the opening and slashed with his sword, catching Farl in the leg for a superficial cut. “First blood goes to me, my friend,” Thomas mocked, knowing that being called “friend” by a slave would further enrage Farl.

With a mighty heave, Farl pulled the axe from its wooden prison and charged Thomas, bashing him with his own shield. Thomas flew onto his back from the blow and Farl brought his axe down hard. Roderick screamed through his gag and tried to turn away, but Bjorn’s hand grabbed his neck and forced him to watch. He saw Thomas roll out of the way in the nick of time and kick out at Farl’s legs, sending the giant crashing down to the sand.

The two fighters’ weapons had flown out of their hands and laid scattered around the arena, but that didn’t stop them. They lept at each other and continued the fight with their bare hands. It was brutal. Kicks, gouches, punches, headbutts… Roderick winced each time Thomas was struck and cheered through his gag with each blow he landed. There and there, one of the fighters would grab his weapon and go for a killing blow, but their target always rolled or parried. Roderick’s excitement was so raised, he did not even feel the discomfort of his tight hogtie anymore.

“How does it feel, Farl,” Thomas taunted, after grabbing Farl in a chokehold. “To be bested by a slave? You are the SECOND best fighter in the village. But Bjorn has little to fear from the likes of you!”

Farl’s face contorted with rage as he broke Thomas’s grip. He babbled and shouted incoherently, unable to form words.

“Careful, boy,” Bjorn whispered, quietly enough that only Roderick could hear him. “That’s the way to keep him off-balance, put push too far and he’ll enter the Red Rage. Then you’ll have no chance.” A cold shiver came over Roderick.

Farl threw Thomas across the ring and rose to his feet. His skin was bright red and his face was a cruel mockery, more animal than man. Thomas got up and both men grabbed their weapons. Farl charged and Thomas met him head-on. “You, who let jealousy of a superior fighter make you scheme like a woman!” Thomas said, dodging and blocking Farl’s more and more erratic swings. “You, who disgraced yourself by obsessing over a slave! You, who stole from your ‘brother.’”

Farl howled like a beast. There was little man left in him now. He dove on Thomas and the two tussled like Titans, rolling this way and that in a flurry of kicks and punches. “They said you are a mighty warrior,” Thomas said between strikes, “but even now you cannot defeat a bastard blacksmith thrall who never even picked up a sword until a month ago.” Farl reached for Thomas’ throat, but the smith rolled away before the man’s fingers reached him. His sword lay inches from him.

Across the sand, Farl rose to his feet. His breathing was ragged and his chest rose and fell. He was weary, so weary. Thomas stood up, holding the sword in his hand. “And above all else, you dishonored your people,” he said. “When Bjorn took Roderick, it was for ransom. When the women were taken from that village it was to be for wives. The men showed cowardice and surrendered without resistance. They deserved the dishonor or thralldom. You let a man strike you and you spared his life. You showed me MERCY instead of killing me like I deserved! YOU ARE NO MAN!!!!”

And something in Farl broke. His mind switched off. All he saw was red and all he desired was blood. He charged at Thomas, frothing and screaming.

“No!” Bjorn gasped. “He’s done it. He pushed him too far.” Tears welled up in Roderick’s eyes as he saw Thomas’s brutal death running at him at fantastic speed. Thomas stood calm, sword in hand.

As Farl came within half an inch of his throat, Thomas ducked and sidestepped. He summoned all the strength he had gained from years at the anvil and swung his sword in a high arc. Farl collapsed in the sand, his fingers still clenching and unclenching for nearly half a minute after his head rolled away, settling to rest at the jarl’s feet.

“I will not make that same mistake, Farl,” Thomas said.

Coming Soon - Conclusion

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Last edited by wataru14 1 week ago, edited 1 time in total.

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Post by Volobond »

Amazing chapter! Not only some of the best bondage and gagging of the story thus far (oh, to be a Viking with a thrall restrained and muffled like Roderick), but also some genuinely heart-pounding action that literally had me cheering? You, my friend, have a masterwork here. I look forward to the conclusion, although I'm sad to see this tale end, and I will definitely be rereading this in future ;)
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Post by DeeperThanRed »

The fighting scene in this chapter was simply breathtaking. Roderick's helplessness while watching the fight made it even more exciting.

I'll miss this story when it ends but really looking forward to seeinghow it ends.
College dude. Likes cute guys, underwear and bondage, preferably together.

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Post by bondagefreak »

@wataru14
Fantastic work.
Having arrived back home from a weeklong trip, I was able to give this a complete reread a few hours ago.

This piece really deserved a promotional boost.
It would be a good idea to use the "A Viking's Prize" promo cover as your forum signature.
We can always work on a new one if you feel that it doesn't suit the story well.
You should also consider creating a story ad in the Catalogue Section.

The plot is thrilling, the writing is gripping and the characterization is brilliant.
Being a fan of Viking stories myself, I am particularly thrilled at the fact that you've done enough research into the subject to make it believable.

For instance, much of the evidence we have about this civilization and about how M/M relations were perceived would confirm that Roderick would be addressed as a sub-man or as a woman. There was no taboo attached to a man sexually dominating another man, but there was a huge taboo attached to the one being dominated/used in such a "relationship". The man at the receiving end was lessened in the eyes of Norsemen society. At least, that's what most historian experts claim.


In any case, the small attention to detail really makes this tale stand out from the other M/M Viking tales I've read.
Your efforts to make this believable have not gone unnoticed.

Really enjoying this.


@Charmides @MountainMan_91 @BoundWolf @LexMachina @MaxRoper @privateandrews @sharpliketoday @notreallyme06 @Camguy2050 @Kratos @Viperbound7

I think there's a good chance you guys'll enjoy this tale quite a bit.
Tagging you in case you might've missed it.
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