Nordic Bound Read online

  Title Page

  NORDIC BOUND

  by

  HENRY MORGAN

  Publisher Information

  Nordic Bound first published in 2000 by

  Chimera Books Ltd

  www.chimerabooks.co.uk

  Digital edition converted and published by

  Andrews UK Limited 2010

  www.andrewsuk.com

  New Authors Welcome

  Copyright © Henry Morgan

  The right of Henry Morgan to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Chimera - a creation of the imagination, a wild fantasy

  Advisory Note

  This novel is fiction – in real life practice safe sex

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Introduction

  He spoke no English, but he made himself quite clear with a grunt and a nod of his head to his groin, so Sabrina, too hungry and weary to protest, rose to her knees and pulled at his zip. It was difficult because the trousers were so old and there were several teeth missing from the zipper, but when she did eventually manage it she revealed a pair of underpants that matched the brute’s vest in that they were torn and soiled too. His semi-turgid cock poked rudely from the front, and he thrust his hips towards her as a sign of his impatience.

  Chapter 1

  The crack of the sealskin whip was quite distinctive over the spit of pine bark burning on the fire. Orange flames danced and the scent of pine spiralled towards the gap in the log cabin roof. Outside, in the reflected light of fresh snow, the perfumed smoke billowed upwards and in the distance a lone wolf howled at the full moon; a huge shining sixpence that seemed to take up every inch of the velvet sky.

  David Harper ran his fingers through the soft fur of a caribou pelt, reclined in its luxury and used the body of an elephant seal for a pillow. Apart from her chubby red face, sown inside the animal skin was Teena, a young, clear skinned Lapp. She had been put naked into the seal while David administered a corporal lesson to her sister, Mishka. The girls had not prepared the cabin for David’s return as he had instructed, and now he found himself once more defining the roles of the two who shared his home.

  In the light from the fire Mishka’s bottom radiated an iridescent glow as evidence of the soft whip that had striped her taut flesh. She remained on her knees until the marks hardened into lifted weals. Seeing this, David left the comfort of the fur-strewn floor and guided the naked girl outside. The strip of warm light from the cabin doorway cut into the blackness forming a shaft of light upon the pure unsullied snow. Mishka was marched to the edge of darkness, each footstep in the deep snow releasing a loud crack to break the silence of the night. David forced the girl down into a squatting position. She resisted, her hot freshly striped bottom remaining an inch or so above the icy rasp of snow.

  ‘Plish,’ she begged, using the few English words she had managed to learn from him. ‘Plish. Not sit in snow.’ Her breath gathered into clouds and was broken up by the cold wind, along with her plea for mercy.

  David noticed Mishka’s erect nipples, smiled and pushed her down until her bottom touched the freezing crystals and she released a partly stemmed cry of anguish. Away on a rocky outcrop the wolf stopped his howling in sympathy for her, seemingly recognising that Mishka’s chilled discomfort masked even his desolate feelings of loneliness.

  Satisfied that she had learned her lesson, David took the girl inside. He returned to his place among the dozens of furs on the floor while the naked Mishka placed more wood on the fire. As the flames grew in intensity, the black-haired ebony-eyed girl took her place by his feet. Her lesson was over; Teena’s would soon be starting.

  David stabbed a toe into Mishka’s leg and gestured toward a small trap door in the floor. The girl got up, grimaced at the throbbing of her still smarting bottom and went across. The wooden door covered a hole dug deep into the ground. It was used as a natural refrigerator and contained several cuts of meat and the hind legs of a caribou. There was also a steel container that held David’s supply of vodka. Mishka poured him his measure into a cup made from horn, and he motioned for her to sit at his feet again. She did so, her legs tucked underneath her bottom, her back straight, breasts pushed out proudly. David sipped the alcohol, noticing how the liquid moved thick and sluggishly when it was kept in freezing temperatures. A small pool of vodka gathered in a dip he formed in his tongue and he breathed in deeply. The alcohol fumes went straight into his lungs and he felt its effect immediately; his head became light and his eyes failed to focus on the naked girl. He reclined lazily, his head propped against the encased Teena, and he drifted into a light sleep.

  On the surface David should have been a happy man. He owned two beautiful Lapp girls, a ski sled, rifles and furs. His cabin was very comfortable and being deep in the forests of Finland’s far north, it provided extreme privacy. But he knew it wouldn’t last. Sooner or later Justin and Sabrina would seek him out and try to take him back to Britain, and once again put him to stud.

  He grew agitated. Mishka leaned forward and took the horn from his hand. She placed it on a low, heavy wooden table and then sat back as David had earlier instructed. As his face distorted, betraying his anguish, Mishka noticed his cock begin to twitch. She knew the dreams that often tormented him had returned. The helmet of his swelling cock pushed against the two small silver balls that were connected to each other by an impaling barbell through his glans. They were a piercing reminder of his past, which was why David refused to remove them. Sometimes, when he watched the girls make love in front of the fire while he smoked loki, a root with similar properties to cannabis, it was easy to forget what they had done to him. It would be simple to forget without the ampallang barbell. He needed that, and he needed the guiche ring, a silver hoop Sabrina had put through his scrotum between his anus and balls.

  When Sabrina was putting him to stud she would dress herself up in a short, tight, black dress. Towering on black stiletto shoes, immaculate in her make-up, she would lead David, naked, by a steel lead attached to his guiche piercing. They would enter the room and, after Sabrina had discussed terms with the other woman, he would be forced to mount and pleasure her until she was satisfied. Then he would be tethered, sometimes with other males, while the women smoked and drank late into the night. The humiliation hurt David. He was not to be trained. He was a trainer who had learned his art in Afghanistan and Pakistan and he had brought that art to Britain, where he set up his own training school. A training school for women, where women were re-educated, where they were taught to succumb to the requirements, to the desires, to the needs of their men. How some of them had squealed and begged and pleaded not to feel the tawse again. And how, by the time they finished their education, they willingly lapped his sperm, eagerly sought his praise by offering their oiled vaginas for his stiff cock.

  Life was good then; it was ordered, it was right. It had been right, until his one time friend, Justin, had betrayed him with Sabrina, his last pupil. They turned the tables on him, made him the slave and them his master. His anger subsided quicker than usual when pictures of Emily, his first pupil, flooded his mind. How she had taken those men on the snooker table at the newly founded Clifftop Club, with
out complaint, without hesitation but with total and utter obedience.

  His cock grew until it became uncomfortable. In its bid to obtain satisfaction it had woken him like a persistent ache. David opened his eyes and was greeted by Mishka, still naked and waiting by his feet. He nodded at the table and she returned his drink to his hand. The clear liquid provided a stimulating kick to his system and he glanced towards his turgid prick. Recognising the signal, Mishka dipped her head and welcomed the metal-clad member into her mouth. The sensation of her tongue over the silver spheres of the barbell set his cock as hard as iron and it demanded release. Mishka’s head bobbed continually, her eyes closed, her bottom pointed beautifully upwards. The girls were such a comfort in winter when the night lasted for almost twenty-four hours. Now that he had trained them they were perfect companions for a man alone in the wilds.

  He allowed Mishka several more minutes before he motioned for her to stop. Despite feeling very tired and relaxed he realised that Teena had not undergone her lesson. David was aware that one lapse, one concession, would show a weakness that could be exploited. He couldn’t allow that to happen. If the girls lost faith in his dominance they would lose confidence in his ability to control them and their surroundings. David stood up alongside the kneeling Lapp girl. His naked body was well muscled and defined, the consequence of hard living on the run from Justin and Sabrina. It looked good and healthy and David felt that way too. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat that, he had learned, the girls loved to lick from his body. His solid cock stood up like a pole, the turgid bell-end an inch or so from Mishka’s face. He allowed the girl to take some sweat from his thighs then he turned, and she was delighted to lick the sweat from his taut buttocks. He refused her permission to take salt from his balls though, and pointed towards the bed. Mishka flopped onto the raised pelts of various animals, burrowing her legs and arms beneath several of the skins. Comfortable now that her lesson was over she relaxed and prepared for her sister’s beating. As she lowered her head a cool breeze wafted over the parts of her body that remained exposed.

  Still naked, David had gone outside again. He stood for a moment feeling the intense chill of the Arctic night, steam rising in curls from the heat of his body. In a few minutes he would suffer frostbite as the blood receded from his fingers and toes to protect his vital internal organs. He pushed his luck, stepped away from the light of the doorway into the darkness and made his way to the top of a small nearby mound. On the other side a short slope fell away into the icy blackness of lake Inan, where the quiet deep waters were cut by a moonbeam. The silence was cloying, heavy and oppressive, yet he loved it. Here there was genuine freedom for a man, the only laws belonged to nature and her first law was only the strong survive. He took several deep breaths and felt the air try to freeze-dry his lungs.

  Mishka had sneaked to the door of the cabin and peeped out. She saw David silhouetted against the moon, arms held out to the sides, legs spread, like a great black pentagram on the badge of Satan.

  Before David returned Mishka was back on the bed. Seeing her sister run from the door Teena knew that their master was on his way back, and that meant it was her turn. There was nothing she could do. The leather thongs that acted like laces on the sealskin had been drawn tight. The most she could manage was to wiggle her fingers. Escape, in any case, was not an option. From experience she knew that her best plan lay in submission, total deference to his natural authority.

  David arrived at the door. The sheen of sweat that had glistened on his body now looked like a fine layer of icy dust. Crystals, like tiny pearls, had formed between the hairs on his body and Mishka’s saliva had partially frozen around his semi-erect cock. Teena saw it clearly and knew that her job was to bring his member back to attention as soon as she could. If she succeeded in that, the beating he was about to give her might just be a little less severe.

  Once the cabin door had been shut the temperature began to stabilise and slowly increase, despite the fire fading to a dull glow that seemed to pulsate among the embers. The effect threw wild shadows around the cabin, while the stones that marked the boundaries of the fire gave up their heat to the air.

  David’s shadow loomed ominously over Teena. She could feel the cold from his body suck away the heat that had tormented her in the time she had been sown up inside the sealskin. Strong fingers pulled at the knot and soon her breasts were in view, then her stomach, and finally her young firm thighs. David went across and stood beneath several iron manacles screwed into a ceiling beam. He allowed a few minutes for blood to return to her cramped joints, and then motioned for her to join him. Despite aching limbs Teena stood up. She made sure that her back was straight and her body was displayed to its best advantage; she knew her master would tolerate no slouching or complaint. He called her over and watched the light from the fire reflect upon her smooth skin as she obeyed his command.

  ‘To your knees,’ he said.

  The words were not alien to Teena. Her English was poor but she recognised the phrases that David used most, and in her new position Teena’s face was in line with her master’s waist.

  ‘Tongue out.’

  She held back her head and thrust out her moist tongue for David to rest his flaccid member upon it. It was still cold from his walk outside, especially the silver barbells, but she remained on her knees until her tongue and his penis were the same temperature. Mishka surveyed the scene from the relative safety of the bed. The two bodies in front of her remained perfectly still – a tableau; her sister on her knees, head back, arms by her sides, tongue out. David stood stock still, legs apart, head tilted slightly upwards, cock on her sister’s tongue. Mishka knew what was coming but she dare not interfere. That would only involve her, and her bottom was only just now cooling down from the strapping that had been administered to it earlier.

  Now that warmth had returned to his body David leant over the girl, gripped her strongly by the waist and lifted. Teena was up-ended. Her head dangled between David’s knees and her cunt was under his chin. Her lips began to separate and David watched as her sex opened wide when her legs fell either side of his face. He manoeuvred the girl until her body faced his, then with one hand around her slim waist, he used his other to push one ankle into a fetter on the beam. Once that was secure he pressed her other ankle into the snap buckle of another fetter. The manacles acted like wide handcuffs. Once a limb was inserted in them a simple locking mechanism prevented it being removed without a key. Teena dangled upside down and David prowled around her, surveying his property. He ran his hands forcefully down her body as if trying to squeeze some imaginary juice from inside her, applying extra pressure when they met her breasts. Teena was younger than Mishka but her breasts were considerably larger. David took hold of one and wrapped a long leather strip around it several times, then tied the other end to special rings screwed into the floor. He did the same with her other breast and then tethered her wrists in the same way.

  Teena no longer dangled. She was held, spread-eagled and tight, upside down, her ankles clasped in irons, legs apart, arms apart and held by leather thongs, as were her glorious tits. David took up his vodka and sat on the bed. Immediately Mishka’s hand slipped over his thigh and cupped his bloated balls, caressing them. David brushed away her hand and pushed her down between his legs. The girl slavered noisily while David viewed her sister, spread in full glory for his pleasure. He observed her helpless state for some time. It aroused him; it fed his hunger. The image faded, as did the fire and one of the oil lamps, plunging the cabin into semi-darkness.

  David motioned Mishka over to the provision chest. In it was numerous large candles. They were long, thick and white. He took one from her and fitted it snugly into Teena’s vagina, and then he withdrew a burning stick from the fire and used it to light the candle. At first the flame faltered and lacked life, but then suddenly the tiny minaret of light grew in intensity. It illuminated Teena’s creamy inner thighs and pr
ovided a cone of light that framed the suspended girl in its inescapable glare.

  As the candle burned David pointed out another box to the watching Mishka. The girl nodded and began searching through its contents until she found the items she knew he wanted. There were numerous silver neck rings that grew increasingly smaller until the top ones pinched the throat. She put them on. She also donned the leather shin guards decorated with silver plates and held in place by long leather strips that had to be wrapped around the calves. Similar items were worn on her forearms and her hair was held back by a leather strap, buckled at the back and decorated with amber and silver. David nodded his approval and held up a leather strap of his own design. It was four strands of walrus leather woven together to form a thick handle in the shape of an erect penis, while the other end provided four separate flails. A large, smoothed and shaped piece of amber formed a golden glans at the handle base, while tiny amber beads were threaded into the four flails to provide them with that extra bite. Like the clothes the girls wore, David had instructed them in the designs he preferred. He also forced them to make his correctional tools, and derived great satisfaction from their faces when they realised it was another whip or more restraints that he would use on them.

  Mishka fetched more vodka for David, and took the offered whip. Standing behind her sister she noticed that the candle had begun to burn, and several lines of molten wax had travelled down the white shaft like sperm. Mishka drew back her arm and raised the whip. For the most fleeting of moments she considered trying to fake the ferocity of the stroke, but commonsense prevailed and she realised that nothing but a full-blooded swing would prevent her from taking her sister’s place. The golden beads of amber bit deep into Teena’s back and her involuntary spasm sent gobbets of wax like a burning ejaculation from the fiery candle to splash on her tethered breasts. Another stroke saw the vicious strands sweep around the suspended girl’s body like the claws of some Scandinavian dragon sent to devour virgins. Each lash left a raised reminder, each sweep of the whip flashed through the semi-darkness of the cabin, the amber teeth sparkling bright.