Copyright (c) 2015,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Tuesday, September 29, 2015

This story may be downloaded by Palisade members uniquely for their private use, and 
may not be distributed for profit or posted to newsgroups or other websites.  Mr Double 
may be contacted by emailing mrdouble@mrdouble.com.


A Palisade Author story from MrDouble's archive, 
Filename: theraid.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com




story_codes: M/g, F/g (4-11), rape, incest, cons

story_intro: At only age eleven, Guendolen has plenty of worries. After years of sordid abuse from her father, she learns of his plans to use her as breeding stock to get the sons he always wanted. And then he informs her that her little sisters will service him when she becomes too heavy with child to perform those tasks. But the arrival of a ship from across the sea signals further turmoil for the young girl and her baby sisters.



story_language: English



The Raid

Written by madvlad


	Guendolen had plenty of things on her mind as she added some driftwood to the fire in the hearth. Her younger sisters were out of the house, which meant they were away from their father. This was a good thing although Guendolen feared them venturing into the surf and being swept away as they played on the beach. Aisley would not go near the water on her own, but Aleda certainly would and Aisley would likely follow wherever her bolder twin would lead.

	However, Guendolen was in the house which was attached to the shop of her father, Edmund, a boat wright. And that meant her father was very nearby. It was a Sunday, so they should have been at church, but her father had very publicly proclaimed that his daughters were actually the offspring of the adulterous whores he had married and didn't feel it proper to bring such creatures into a house of God.

	His pronouncements had led the Guendolen and her sisters being shunned by the townspeople, many of whom seemed to share Edmund's bitter outlook on many things. So the girl was left largely alone with the man she feared.

	From the moment she was born, Guendolen had been a disappointment to her father who was determined to have sons. As the baby became a little girl, she shared her mother's fair skin, dark red hair, and deep blue eyes. A usually taciturn man to begin with, Edmund began making accusations of adultery against Guendolen's mother as he saw no resemblance in the child to himself. His charges faded when his wife at last became pregnant once more.

	The baby was a boy, however he was stillborn and his mother followed him in death shortly afterward as the midwife could not staunch the copious bleeding. Although relatively rich by the standards of a fishing town in England in the Year of Our Lord 988, Edmund considered himself most unfortunate; without a bed mate and saddled with a five year-old girl he wanted no part of.

	Within a month, however, he began to show an interest in Guendolen. His house and shop were set a half mile away from the town, so no one was in earshot when he made his innocent daughter take the place of her departed mother.

	Used to sleeping in a small bed by herself, Guendolen was surprised when her father put her in his bed. She was confused when he told her to undress but knew well enough not to question him or else she risk the wrath of his quick hand across her face. Once she was nude, Edmunds actions became strange - and then horrific.

	Staring at the chubby, hairless flesh between the girl's legs, Edmund gauged the tiny slit there and judged it adequate to be stretched. Guendolen wriggled uncomfortably as he spat in his hand and rubbed the saliva into her cleft, but dared no protest. Pushing his prick into the little girl's mound, he saw the soft nether lips part easily before he encountered the resistance of her undersized entrance. 

	When he shoved against it, Guendolen began to cry as she felt herself stretching inside. Then she wailed as her father gave a mighty heave and shredded her hymen. The screams did not deter Edmund from plunging into the child's bleeding twat and soon he was rutting in her tight, slick channel. The tot was choking and sobbing as the hurtful assault between her legs continued.

	Edmund enjoyed the little girl's struggles beneath him. Her small quim gripped and twisted around his raping cock before he ejaculated into her unready womb, making her a woman at the age of five. He pulled out and looked at the mess of his little daughter's ruined virginity as it seeped from her violated cunt along with his semen.

	"There," he told the girl. "Now you're as much of a whore as your mother."

	Although a skilled craftsman, Edmund preferred keeping his distance from the nearby fisherman (along with most other people); dealing with them only as a matter of business and never as a friend. This left him free to enjoy the forcefully taken favors of his daughter whenever the frequent urge took him. Her little pussy was exquisite as it squeezed him, cementing the notion in his head that Guendolen's main purpose in life was to be a cum socket for his pleasure.

	Guendolen's torment subsided within a year when he re-married, this time to a daughter of a fisherman who provided a respectable dowry. Guendolen's new stepmother quickly bonded with the girl and shortly after the wedding became pregnant. Late in her pregnancy, it was clear that she could no longer service Edmund as he wished. He had made her use her mouth on him but one night was in the mood for something different. 

	In the dark, Guendolen shuddered in her bed as she heard the woman begging.

	"Please, not there. It is an unclean thing to do."

	Guendolen heard a hard slap she was quite familiar with. There was a movement of bodies and then a pained cry from her stepmother. Then more familiar sounds followed - the sound of flesh on flesh and her father's heavy breathing. When it stopped, she could hear her stepmother's soft weeping.

	When the woman gave birth, Edmund's disappointment was doubled - and then tripled. The midwife happily informed him that he now had twins but the woman's smile vanished when she saw his expression upon learning they were both girls.

	Along with his disappointment, Edmund lost interest in his wife, using her to satisfy his needs but gradually turning his attentions back to Guendolen. With their blonde hair and dark brown eyes, the twins resembled their mother, showing no hint of Edmund's lighter brown hair, steely gray eyes, and his thin blade of a nose. Complaining that he was surrounded by whores, he showed no reluctance to routinely raping his oldest daughter although he took caution to conceal this relationship from his wife.

	But one day his wife returned from the market early to find her husband fiercely driving his meat in and out of his crying nine year-old. Guendolen looked pitiful with her thin body bent over a rough wooden table while the man's prick was ravaging her hairless pussy. When she tried to pull him off of the girl, Edmund flew into a rage. While Guendolen watched in horror and the two year-old twins stared in confusion, the man beat his young wife until she fell, striking the hearth with the back of her head. She lay there, staring sightlessly after a few spasms.

	By afternoon, she was buried and Edmund had told the town's priest that as an unrepentant adulterer, she was unfit for a church burial. The priest agreed and no inquiries were ever made into the death.

	For the next two years, Guendolen became housekeeper and bedmate for her father and a mother of sorts to her little sisters.

	Guendolen tried to repress a shudder when the door open and shut and her father entered the single room dwelling. She didn't turn his way but felt him tug at her dress and knew what he wanted. She slid the garment off and was about to ley on the bed when he stopped her.

	"Stand there so I can get a look at you," he ordered. 

	Guendolen did as he said, standing quietly while her father surveyed the lines of her slim, eleven year-old body. She appeared quite boyish in most respects although recent development had produced a pair of soft swellings on her chest. Edmund grunted and pinched a nipple between his work-hardened forefinger and thumb.

	"You're starting to look more like a whore now," he said. "Good. Soon you'll have no excuse for not giving me my sons."

	With that, he pushed the girl on the bed. Edmund had been making comments about getting Guendolen pregnant for some time, not even sparing the twins as he stated his intent. When Aleda asked him what this was all about, he slapped her hard across the face and did the same as a warning to Aisley who had remained silent as usual.

	Now he fell on top of her, jamming a spit-soaked finger in the girl's still-hairless cunt so he wouldn't get chaffed he entered her dry. Guendolen's own comfort meant nothing to the man and he was quickly stabbing his prick into the preteen's sex. Her snatch was still quite snug, which provided a satisfying fuck for Edmund and told him that she hadn't been servicing other men - at least not yet. With a grunt, he forced his sperm into Guendolen's womb.

	Remaining inside the girl, Edmund roughly toyed with her small breasts as he pictured them becoming full of milk to feed his sons. The idea made him hard and the further thought of her being pregnant inspired something else. He withdrew from her and told her to roll over.

	Guendolen flinched as he slid some of the oozing stuff from her twat and rubbed it around her asshole. Then he poked his finger inside, making her shout a protest. He answered with a clout to the side of her head. 

	"When you become too heavy with child, this is how you will please me," he declared.

	Guendolen shrieked as her father ripped through her anus and forced his cock deep into her virgin ass. Memories of her pregnant stepmother's cries in the darkness came back to her and the girl wept with pain and shame. Edmund fucked her roughly, compounding the forced anal copulation with lurid ideas that he spoke aloud.

	"Of course, the other two whores should be ripe for plucking before too long. Another year and they'll be of the age you were when you learned your place. I'll make their tiny cunts bleed and teach them who their master is. They won't be spreading their legs for no one else - you can be sure of that."

	Guendolen was horrified at the thought of her sisters being raped by their father. Aleda was a joyful, delightful child whose light had yet to be diminished by the man. But what would Edmund's carnal abuse do to her? And then there was Aisley, a sweet, gentle girl who could not fathom the terror that would be inflicted upon her. Edmund was also thinking of the twins' personality and he told Guendolen of his thoughts as he continued sodomizing her.

	"I'm sure Aleda will be a lively little fuck, but maybe I should start with Aisley. That one hardly makes a sound but I'm sure I get more than a few out of her with my cock stretching her baby cunt."

	Guendolen shivered as her father's prick rasped in and out of her burning rectum. He came, spilling more jism in her bowels and left her there on the bed as he went back to his workshop. She lay still for a few minutes, weeping more for her precious baby sisters than for the throbbing in her rear. Then she dragged herself out of bed and went to the bucket of water by hearth, soaking a rag before cleaning herself.

	Aleda scampered happily, feeling the sea breeze tugging at her hair and dress. As she ran, she held her arms straight out from her sides, wishing the wind would pick her up so she could fly like a bird. On the slope behind her, Aisley was in the tall grass, picking wildflowers.

	The wind was picking up and Aleda ran with her eyes shut to keep the salt and sand out of them. It was also more fun this way as she could imagine herself soaring into the sky. Finally, she stopped and trotted toward her sister who stood and looked in her direction.

	"Aisley! This is so much fun. You must try it."

	But Aisley wasn't looking at Aleda. With one small finger, she pointed over Aleda's shoulder. The other girl stopped and turned to see five wooden boats pulling near the shore. They looked strange, with dragon heads topping the bows and shields lining the sides; in short, they were nothing like her father made.

	Then strange men hopped from the boats and waded toward shore. They were carrying weapons and Aleda wondered if they were knights. She had seen one once in the village. These men were laughing as they approached and Aleda smiled. Maybe they would like to pretend they were flying, too. Taking Aisley by the hand, she led her sister toward the approaching men so they could all be friends.

	Olaf knew Sunday was a good day to land when all these English were huddled in their church to pray to their one mere god. When he had first encountered the Christian religion, he thought that they had three gods (still a pittance compared to the pantheon of Norse gods). But then he learned that the one called Jesus had died (not much of a god if men could kill him) and so Olaf was pretty sure that this Jesus was now the Holy Ghost. He never bothered to inquire any further as he was not interested in the theology of Christians - just their gold and silver.

	He was in charge of the raiding party that had sailed from the fjords of home under the banner of Lord Haldor, their jarl. As his warriors collected on the beach, he was surprised to see they were being met. But as the opposing force consisted of two barefoot little girls, he did not yet reach for his sword. Actually, he was rather surprised as he was used to people screaming and running away when he and his folk arrived, but these two walked right up to him.

	The man who looked like he was in charge was by far the biggest man Aleda had ever seen. Everyone in the group was in fact larger than any grown-ups she knew. When the man saw them, he grinned and Aleda grinned back. Aisley was reluctant to get too close, but Aleda assured her that these people were friendly. Then she asked the man if he wanted to play her flying game.

	While one girl stared with huge eyes, the other chattered in her native tongue and flapped her arms like a bird - her meaning quite clear. Amused, Olaf placed his huge hands on her torso, completely encircling her body. With a roar, he threw her up in the air, sending her even higher when he let her go. He caught her easily and laughed at her delight. The girl laughed back. 

	Olaf flung her a few more times before he set her down in the sand. Then he looked at the other girl and asked her if she wanted to fly, too. He knew she couldn't understand him but wondered how she would respond. Taking a tentative step, the girl reached up and presented him with a bunch of wildflowers clutched in her tiny hand. The men behind him laughed.

	"She's surrendered the treasure, Olaf," one of them bellowed. "I guess it's time to sail home."

	Chuckling, Olaf accepted the girl's gift and called to his crew. 

	"Fell, Brenna, ask these two where the town is. See if you can determine if there are any men at arms about."

	Fell was a tall, gangly man. While not nearly as well-muscled as the rest of the men, he sported a variety of tattoos on his exposed skin and the others inclined their heads slightly as he walked past them. He was a healer and reputedly could channel all kinds of mystic powers to divine weather and omens, making him respected and slightly feared.

	Fell immediately had the girls' attention as he approached them but then their focus shifted to the other person. 

	"You're a lady!" Aleda exclaimed.

	And indeed Brenna was although she was dressed much like her male counterparts. 

	"Why are you dressed like a man?" the tot inquired as the two stopped in front of her. 

	"I am a shield maiden," Brenna explained in English. "I can fight just as well as any man here - better than most."

	Fell chuckled at that last remark and Aleda turned to him.

	"I like your pretty pictures," she said, taking his hand so she could trace the tattoos.

	Fell cocked his head as he observed her, feeling a tingle in his spine. She had followed the different symbols in the precise manner and order in which they had been drawn.

	"Why did you use your finger that way - in the directions you took?" he asked.

	The four year-old peered at him innocently and shrugged. Fell squatted in front of her and invited her to trace the tattoos on his face. Again, she did it exactly as certain rituals required. This was not a thing known even among the Norse men.

	"What is it, Fell?" Olaf asked impatiently.

	"This one has an innate knowledge of things," he answered slowly, not taking his eyes off the girl.

	Olaf and the others made subtle signs of respect with their fingers. Then Brenna took over.

	"And what are your names?" she asked.

	"I'm Aleda and this is Aisley."

	Brenna noticed how the other girl kept hiding behind her sister and focused on Aleda again.

	"We've never been this way before but heard from another place that there is an abbey here."

	"Yes," Aleda confirmed as she pointed back over the slop. "It's over there in the village. We don't go there a lot because Papa told them we were bad."

	Brenna was puzzled by that remark but continued.

	"Are there many armed men about?"

	Aleda shook her head. Fell leaned close to Brenna and whispered in her ear.

	"We must keep this one," he said. "But who knows what will happen to her family if there is trouble? Perhaps she should stay here with that other one. I would not like to see her in distress."

	Brenna nodded and continued.

	"And does your family live in the village?"

	"No," Aleda replied and pointed in a different spot. 

	"That's where the inlet was where we saw the dock," Fell noted.

	"You don't want to go there," Aleda said, wide-eyed. "Papa is always cross and hits."

	Aisley nodded to confirm this information. Noticing the bruises on both girls' faces from Edmund's recent blows, Brenna softly patted the Aleda's cheek. 

	"Did your father do this?" she asked.

	"Yes," Aleda said. "And he was hurting Guendolen so she'd give him a baby when we came to play here."

	"Is Guendolen your mother?"

	"No, she's our sister. She's very nice and we're sad because Papa hurts her lots of times to get a baby."

	Brenna's blood went cold as she realized what the girl was saying. Fell was hard to read, as always, but his mouth was suddenly tight. They quickly conferred with Olaf. He ordered two men to stay with the boats and watched the girls and then picked two more.

	"Sten, Siegfried," he barked. "Take care of the place with the dock. The rest of us shall see what bounty the Christian god has for us today."

	When Edmund spotted the two men walking his way, he bolted from his workshop toward the house. They followed him, quickly closing the distance and arriving just as he tried to slam the door closed. Tumbling backward as they shoved the door open, Edmund seized a knife from the table and tried to stab Sten. The Viking easily grabbed his wrist and with a heave threw Edmund against the hearth. 

	Edmund's head impacted against the stone with a wet crack and he landed not far from where his second wife had died. Sten had pulled his axe from his belt when he spied the bloody gray matter leaking from the man's broken head. 

	"Go check the workshop for anything of use," he told Siegfried. "I'll take a look in here."

	Guendolen stared at her father, frightened by the violence but feeling a pang of vengeful satisfaction that he had died much like the woman he had murdered.  She was huddled in the corner with no place to hide when she saw Sten staring at her. 

	Having heard stories of these fierce men, Guendolen began pleading with him in a language he did not understand although her meaning was clear. He was going to ignore her when the girl, desperate to save her life, offered herself to him. 

	"I can make you feel good," she said, raising his tunic with trembling hands. 

	She felt the lump in his breeches and it hardened as she rubbed against it. Sten grunted in amusement as she was but a mere child. He could not rape her. But the girl was clearly experienced as she managed to extract his member and began to lick it. This made Sten reconsider his previously poor opinion of this rainy little island called England.

	He wondered how old this female was and placed a hand on her chest, clutching at a small breast beneath the cloth. Guendolen pulled off her dress and displayed her immature body to him, trying to squeeze her titlets to make them appear bigger and more attractive.

	"Please don't kill me," she begged. "I can do...whatever you want."

	If a girl child was experienced, the law regarded her differently and many limits were gone. Sten knelt and took hold of the girl by the shoulder and buttocks. He squeezed the latter, finding it pleasingly firm and fleshy. Then he leaned forward and sucked a tiny mammary onto his mouth; his tongue playing over the nipple as he tasted her. 

	To her amazement, Guendolen liked the touch of the man's mouth on her breast, even if his beard was a little scratchy. Nothing had felt like that before and when his lower hand ventured from behind to the smoothness of her crotch, she nearly leapt from the floor. Anticipating a forceful shove inside her like her father had always done to lube her with spit, she was surprised to find him rubbing her there, prying her bald labia apart and exploring her inner lips and clit as he continued to massage her.

	Now there was heat blooming in her loins and Guendolen didn't understand what was happening. Feeling the wetness inside the girl, Sten stood up and lifted Guendolen by the waist until her groin was hovering above the tip of his dick. 

	Sten pulled her onto him, making the eleven year-old groan with arousal as her cunny was filled with the marauder's prick. He moved her in such a way that excited her. Exhausted from the morning's events and the new sensations she was receiving, Guendolen went limp in his arms, allowing him to control her body as she was pummeled on his cock. And no longer caring what happened to her, the eleven year-old instinctively clamped her legs around his sides, letting the man couple forcefully with her. What little discomfort she had was more than offset by the lewd stirrings in her agitated pussy.

	Having found some tools that would be of value, Siegfried returned to the house only to find that Sten had purloined a better treasure. A slim, milky-skinned young girl with long, fiery hair was bouncing on Sten's prick, mewling with arousal and making her budding breasts quiver with her movements. 

	Sten came loudly, his semen boiling in the preteen's quim. Guendolen moaned languidly as she felt the insemination. After Sten had lifted her from him and set her on her feet, Siegfried looked at her hairless snatch as it leaked down her legs.

	"Not a virgin, then," he remarked. "No problems. Is she for sharing?"

	Sten looked at the girl who stared back at him in wonder. It was obvious that this was her first pleasurable sexual liaison and he wondered what experiences he could have with her as she learned more.

	"No," he said to his comrade. "I will claim her for my wife."

	Siegfried raised his eyebrows. Girls this young could be betrothed although a marriage was rarely consummated at this early age. But since she had already been taken by another, her status had changed. He nodded his acknowledgement and the two men waited for Guendolen to get dressed before they brought her to the boats.

	As they left the house, Guendolen felt a cold stab of fear in her belly. She had been consumed by the pleasures she had felt when the man took her, relishing what she had and somehow feeling there was something more, as if her body's reactions had been building up to something. But now she realized that Aleda and Aisley had been alone on the beach - quite likely where these invaders had arrived. Her own future was very much in doubt and now she was burdened with guilt over having forgotten about the twins. 

	Her feet felt as if they were made of lead as she trudged over the crest of the slope but then heard her name called and saw two small forms scrambling her way with blonde hair flying. She raced to meet them, hugging them both as they launched into her. Aleda excitedly told her about meeting their new "friends" while Aisley preferred to simply cuddle in Guendolen's arms.

	The man who had coupled with her spoke in a guttural language Guendolen didn't know. But by his gestures as he pointed to her and her sisters, the boats, and the horizon, she knew they would be leaving England.

	Unaware of their unexpected company, none of the parishioners had thought about securing the church doors. When they suddenly burst open, the priest stopped in mid-recitation and people scrambled backward to avoid the reach of these fierce-looking warriors. In English, Fell warned them not to cause any trouble and most looked quite willing to comply.

	However, one man spied Brenna and considered her easy prey. He leapt at her from behind, bringing a dagger to her throat. Before the blade could arrive, Brenna had already begun countering his attack, bringing a wickedly sharp knife of her own into action. One swift disembowelment later, the would-be hostage taker was on the flat stones of the church floor, feebly trying to reach for his intestines as he wondered how it all had happened. 

	There were several religious ornaments and items of gold and silver, some set with precious stones, on the altar that the Vikings quickly seized. Olaf was still put off by the small haul. They had heard of an abbey in these parts and he had decided on a quick stop before they sailed home to avoid the coming stormy season. They could have spent more time searching houses for valuables, but experience had taught him that a place like this would have little to offer outside of the church. 

	One of the monks saw Olaf looking about, examining the locals for potential slaves, when he took a gamble and stepped forward. In broken Norse, he caught Olaf's attention.

	"If you are looking for more valuables, I can help," he volunteered.

	Towering over the man, Olaf stared at him for a moment as if to discern any trickery. Finding none, he nodded for the man to continue.

	"The bishop is here and he always travels with a chest of coins. He must have needs for he always takes a share from our coffers but for what purpose I know not. You will find him in the basement with, ah...well, do as you wish. He has assistants who will be on the hall, fellow brothers, I'm afraid to admit, who have lost their way. They may have knives and as for the bishop, I...I cannot bring myself to say more."

	Olaf gave him a curious look and then summoned some of his men to join him. After the monk opened the door, Olaf and his men descended to the basement where they encountered and quickly disarmed the bishop's men. Olaf kicked in a door and discovered the bishop with his cassock hiked up as he buggered a petrified young boy of perhaps ten years. In three long strides, Olaf had his sword unsheathed and swung it into the bishop's neck, not quite severing the head but certainly putting an end to the man. 

	His men took the small chest filled with coin and other valuables. Olaf relieved the dead man of his jewelry and paused to regard the boy who was now on the floor and rubbing his wounded bottom. Nodding to the lad, Olaf tossed him one of the bishop's fingers. It was still adorned with a hold ring with a large garnet set in it. The boy mumbled something and bowed his head in thanks.

	In the hall, Olaf scowled at the men who had served the bishop and barked an order. The men's hands were tied and ropes were fastened around each of their necks. When Olaf and his band emerged from the basement, they had their slaves in tow along with the bishop's liberated stash.

	The monk who had helped them looked at the captives and turned to Olaf.

	"The bishop?" he inquired.

	Olaf winked.

	"He's now a holy ghost," he announced with satisfaction.

	The voyage home was unremarkable in terms of weather, with only a mild squall that lasted less than a day. While the bishop's men sat miserably in another boat, the girls were treated comfortably. Guendolen came to understand that she now belonged to Sten who would marry her with the jarl's permission (the jarl being a version of a nobleman). 

	She was dizzy at the idea of becoming a wife, unsure of what that would entail. But she hoped that when they were ashore, he would couple with her again. It was odd that such a thing that had been so dreadful with her father was now so enticing with this stranger. 

	Aleda nearly became Fell's shadow, standing with him as he interpreted signs in the windswept sea spray, clouds, and the stars. Aisley remained close by, staring at everything and everyone without a word.

	Their arrival back home was greeted with cheers and a giant feast in Jarl Haldor's hall. The lord and his wife, Astrid, presided over the festivities and the treasure was distributed with extra rewards given. Sten was given permission to take Guendolen as his wife. The slender redhead and the large man with long drooping mustaches made an odd-looking pair but they were the recipients of many ribald toasts as they left the hall together. 

	When Fell told Haldor of Aleda's gifts of mystic sight and the arcane ways of things, the lord granted him permission to take the child as an acolyte.  Haldor wondered what other things Fell might teach the girl. But as she was so young, the laws concerning eligible virgins did not pertain to her. And there were some places, the jarl knew, that were best left alone - especially when dealing with Fell's magic.

	When Fell started to leave with Aleda, both she and Aisley whimpered as they tried to stay together. Fell gently pried Aleda away from Aisley, assuring the two they would see each other every day.

	Brenna belched loudly as she stood, swaying for a moment before she took her leave. Pointing to Aisley who was now sitting miserably by herself, she turned to Haldor and Astrid.

	"Should I take her to the slave pens?"

	Haldor shook his head.

	"With her sisters now a part of us, she should be as well."

	"You should care for her, Brenna," Astrid added. "You're prowess in battle is respected, but there are more things a woman must do. And since you have repeatedly avoided marriage, perhaps this little one will provide some ties to the hearth for you."

	"You could raise her to be a shield maiden," Haldor said.

	There was laughter in the hall as people regarded this meek little girl and the proud woman warrior. Brenna glared at some of those people but her face was a stoic mask once more as she bowed to her lord and lady. Taking Aisley by the hand, she led the girl away.

	Sten was on top, plowing is prick into the slick cunny sheath of his eleven year-old wife. His large hands held the girl by the sides, his thumbs swirling over her little breasts and keeping her nipples stiff. With every thrust, Guendolen let out a lustful bark. Her man had already cum inside her once and as he worked toward another, she felt something in her loins coalescing, nearing its completion.

	Olaf was walking past Sten's house when he heard Guendolen's orgasmic cries and smiled. Guendolen, like her sisters, had been quickly learning their new language. But some things needed no translation.

	Aleda shivered warmly as Fell painted more designs on her naked body. The four year-old was feeling stirrings inside her she couldn't understand, but with every touch of the man's fingers as he chanted, those stirrings grew. 

	Fell hadn't touched her between her legs until the end. His fingers barely grazed the bald, chubby lips of her mound when Aleda felt the tightness inside her there begin to melt very wetly. Seeing the child's reaction, Fell settled onto his back and placed her on top of him. 

	Aleda had seen what Edmund did to Guendolen plenty of times, but felt no fear as the man's rather narrow cock slipped into her mound and pressed through her portal. When Fell pulled her down, Aleda yelped as she felt something break inside her but then went silent except for her heavy breathing as she was touched in a place she never knew of.

	The four year-old's sex was like a rain-warmed flower blooming as it opened for the first time around Fell's cock. Grasping her by her torso, he moved her up and down, her childish pussy grabbing and pressing around his member. As his hard flesh ground against her tender walls, the pressure in her special place increased and grew ever hotter. 

	The heat became blinding as she shuddered. Her tiny body was wracked with a climax while the man pumped his sperm into her. Panting, she looked down at the hard cylinder of meat embedded in the little hairless hole between her thighs. Fell reached up with fresh dye on his fingertips as he painted a pattern on her belly over her freshly filled womb. Aleda squirmed with a returning need and soon she was riding him again.

	"Take off that filthy dress and go to bed," Brenna ordered. "I'll get you something fit to wear in the morning."

	Aisley did as she was told, leaving the dress on the floor and crawling into the only bed in Brenna's cabin. The soft fur of the pelts felt wonderful against her bare skin, but she was nervous as she regarded the woman who didn't seem very happy to have been given her. As Brenna got undressed for bed, she remarked on her fortune.

	"Sten gets a young wife. Fell gets his acolyte - and by now is drilling his dick in her little cunt. And what do I get? A little mouse of a girl I must share my home with."

	Aisley looked somber as Brenna finished her rant. Without warning, Brenna growled and leapt on top of the child. She seized Aisley's wrists in one hand, pinning them to the bed above her head and rendering the tot helpless.

	"And I got just what I wanted," the woman purred, drawing her tongue over Aisley's face. 

	Brenna laughed at the girl's shocked expression and then proceeded to lick her chest and tummy. She kept her eyes locked on Aisley's and felt her squirm as she twisted the tip of her tongue over the tiny nipples until they were erect. When she let go of Aisley's hands, the girl left them in place, not struggling to escape as Brenna's mouth moved over her legs and then between her thighs. 

	Brenna paused to gaze at the four year-old's hairless pussy. It looked quite plump and delicious and she dove in for the feast. By the time Brenna had her wet, Aisley was breathing raggedly.

	"Can you be brave for me?" Brenna asked. "Can you be my brave little Valkyrie?"

	Aisley had heard tales of Odin's women and nodded, hoping she could be brave. Brenna placed a finger into the girl's quim, working into the opening of her hymen and making it stretch and tear a little. Aisley whimpered but did not resist as Brenna's finger slowly went completely inside. The woman felt every bit of the child's tiny sex as it tightly clamped around the invading finger. She wanted to know every intimate secret of the delicate treasure. When Brenna pulled her digit out, it was stained with Aisley's virgin blood and she showed it to the girl. 

	"That's my little warrior mouse," she cooed and cleaned her finger in her mouth. 

	Then she returned to Aisley's baby snatch, sucking and chewing the tender mound before plunging her tongue inside although the tip could barely get past the entrance. In her lust, Brenna was merciless, fucking the four year-old with her strong tongue as she forced more of it through Aisley's gradually yielding inner lips and into the deflowered channel. 

	Growling, she tasting the child's arousal as the heated nectar flowed. While Aisley writhed, Brenna gripped her little buttocks, kneading them as she orally plundered the tiny cuntlet until it constricted around her tongue. Aisley let out a squeak when she came.

	"You even sound like a mouse!" Brenna laughed.

	She slid up and kissed the girl, sliding her tongue in Aisley's mouth. Following some instinct, Aisley sucked at it, cleaning it of her essence. When Brenna lifted her mouth away, she smiled.

	"You like the taste of pussy, then? Good."

	Getting to her knees, Brenna straddled the girl's face and then lifted her head until Aisley's mouth was pressed against her cunt. When she felt the touch of the child's tongue exploring her cleft, Brenna sighed and praised her little lover's obedience.

	Guendolen lay in the darkness, sated and with Sten's seed still warm in her young body.

	"When do you think I'll have a baby?" she asked.

	Sten stirred beside her and placed a calloused hand over her smooth, flat belly.

	"I don't know. Probably in a few years, yet."

	Remembering Edmund's cruelty to her mother and stepmother, Guendolen suddenly felt cold in the warmth of the bed. 

	"What if I only have girls?" she asked as a spot of worry wormed its way inside her beneath Sten's hand.

	Sten chuckled beside her.

	"Then I'll have young men lining up to pay me a dowry for the privilege of marrying one of our beautiful red-haired daughters."

	Aleda's cuddly little body was nearly covered now with shapes and symbols as she continued to ride Fell's prick. Their bodies were soaked and sticky where they were joined and still more cunny juices squished from the tot's pudgy twat every time she bounced down. The air was heavily scented with smoke from the various herbs that were smoldering in metal bowls.

	The winding, stylized serpent painted on the smooth pallet of Aleda's lower belly and pubis flexed every time her flesh bulged with an inward thrust. It was like magic, but no more powerful than the volcanic bubbling in the child's over-stimulated cunny. In the low light of the embers, the little girl's body shined with sweat.

	Both man and child came together with Fell still able to produce more semen in Aleda's saturated hole. The girl's latest climax was crushing and at its peak her eyes rolled back and she tumbled off of Fell as she fainted. Her body still jerked spasmodically for another minute as jism oozed from her bald cleft. Fell watched and made a mental note to use the same methods and potions again on another night.

	Brenna was on her side next to Aisley, teasing her with light touches of her finger tip on the tyke's bald little pussy. Aisley tried to lift her hips to get the finger inside her wet cunny, but the woman kept pulling her finger just out of reach.

	"A shield maiden must focus on her target and take it with all of her might," Brenna told the girl.

	Aisley tried to replicate one of Brenna's lusty growls but could only produce a squeak. Nevertheless, she grabbed Brenna's hand and tugged it down as she bucked her tiny hips, impaling her precious little twat with Brenna's finger. 

	"Well done," Brenna said as she flexed her finger as much as the child's tight twat sheath would allow. 

	The girl's hairless mons gurgled from the internal movement.

	"Mama, I'm a shield maiden now," Aisley said in a small, clear voice.

	Brenna's eyebrows rose.

	"Oh, so you can talk. I thought you could only squeak."

	"Squeak," Aisley giggled.

	Brenna laughed with her and then realized what Aisley called her.

	"So I'm your mother now?"

	When Aisley nodded and fixed her with a hopeful gaze, Brenna rolled toward her, pressing a breast against her mouth. Driven by instinct, the four year-old immediately latched onto the nipple and suckled while the woman's finger worked its magic inside her tiny quim.



madvlad@mrdouble.com
http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/madvlad.htm






















This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


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