The sky was grim, gray with the first drops of rain. Princess Freya’s long dark blond hair with it’s small braids with silver beads blowing in the howling wind and eyes like two shimmering pools of winter blue as fierce and steely as a viking’s sword, she stood on the castle balcony watching the gray skies.
Freya took a deep breath, breathing in the stormy air that was charged with the wildness of nature. She hoped to take on that wildness into her lungs to help her through this time.
“Princess Freya?” spoke a small female voice.
She did not turn when she heard her name called. Freya was too fascinated by the raging sky. Perhaps Perun was angry that a human maiden was about to enter the Underworld to be bride to Veles the dragon god.
“Princess Freya? Your brother is waiting in the throne room for you,” said the female voice.
“The King you mean,” Freya’s voice had an edge to it that made the handmaiden wince.
King Erik III had yet to be crowned but since their father had just died he was to be addressed as the King.
Princess Freya did not want to go. She knew that if she left this spot then she would be forced out of the castle. Forced to honor a bargain that was struck long ago that she wasn’t even alive to object.
No point delaying the inevitable…
Princess Freya went to her bed then bent down and pulled out a finely carved wooden box. She opened it and inside was a dagger. It’s silver blade gleamed in the light like the moon in the darkness. The handle was gold encrusted with gleaming blood red rubies. She would need protection.
Freya heaved a heavy sigh, her pink lips set in a stern line putting on a new air of dignity. She had the blood of warriors coursing through her veins, of Viking Kings and Slavic heroes. They faced down gods and their beasts. But no beast was so great as the beast called “arranged marriage”.
***
The Christians talk of deal with Devils. King Erik II made one with one of their gods, Veles the dragon god of the Underworld. This deal started out as most fairytales did: a barren king and queen desperate for a child and heir.
The king and queen prayed to the gods but they would not answer. Not Mati Syra Zemlya, the Earth Goddess, not Perun the god of lightning and thunder, and not even the benevolent god of light Byelobog. None would answer the monarchs’ prayers… but then one did.
The king was out riding until he got lost in the dark woods. He was one of the best trackers in the kingdom but the more he tried to find his way home, the deeper and more tangled he became in the darkness of the woods. To make matters worse it began to rain…
The king decided to wait until morning. He rested himself and his horse beneath a large old oak tree, a tree sacred to the Slavic people. But when the king tried to light a fire all of the bark and wood was wet.
Unable to get warm or find good shelter, the king wrapped his wolf fur cloak around himself in an attempt to keep warm. The king felt the frost set in his bones as he shivered.
Then he heard a man’s voice call to him, “You look cold, my king. Let me light you a fire.”
Out of the shadows of the trees came a hooded stranger with a dark, masculine voice full of confidence.
“The wood is too wet,” the king cried gloomily.
The stranger paid no mind to the king’s rude tone then said, “I also know the way of these woods and can lead you home but I will expect a price…”
“If you could make me a fire and lead me home to my loving wife I will give you my first born,” the king spoke only in cynical jest but then he saw a ball of fire ignite in the hooded stranger’s hand.
The fire grew bigger, like a small sun that fell from heaven. The frost in the king’s bones melted away, even his close were dry as if the rain never set in them.
“I’ve lived in these woods a long time, sire,” said the hooded stranger with a secret smile. “I know them better than any of the animals. Follow me and you’ll get back to your wife.”
The king dumbly mounted his horse that was renewed with some vigor, following the mysterious stranger through the forest until the darkness began to lighten as they came to where the trees were not so close together.
The whole time, the rain did not touch them. It were as if there was some invisible shield covering them. Sure enough they made it to the gates of King Erik’s castle.
King Erik thanked the stranger and asked how he could reward him. But the hooded stranger smiled and said, “You already have. You have promised me your first born who will be a beautiful, fierce woman. Soon you and your wife shall conceive a child and once you die I shall come and collect my bride.”
The stranger lifted his hooded face to the stunned king and the king saw that his eyes were not like a man’s but gold with two black slits like poisoned daggers.
Behind the man the king could see an dark emerald green scaly tail moving in the wet grass. With a dark laugh, the stranger disappeared leaving the king struck dumb with fear.
***
Now came the day when Princess Freya was to become a bride for the creature that her father made. She allowed her handmaidens to dress her. She dressed in white and blue trim, a white veil and wild flowers strewn into her dark golden hair.
Freya was tall, taller than most men and could look many directly in the eye. She had the high cheek bones and pointed chin, even if she were a peasant in rags people would know that she was of noble birth.
Princess Freya walked into the drinking hall where her brother sat in state on his throne. King Erik III’s pet wolf sat beside him like a loyal servant while the king lay back in his finely carved wooden throne where their father once sat during many feasts and the hearing of grievances.
How funny Erik looked in their father’s chair. He didn’t even have his beard yet. He was only 3 years younger than herself. Erik’s hair and eyes were just like Freya’s but his build was muscular. Freya was slim with small yet round breasts and shapely hips.
Freya stood tall with her chin held high, every bit the imperious princess she was born to be. Erik looked up from his advisors to see his older sister in her wedding gown. He nodded in approval.
“You look beautiful, sister,” Erik complimented. “I could have sworn it was mother come back from the dead.”
“Thank you, King Erik,” Freya spoke formally which wounded her brother but Freya did not flinch.
Erik saw the ruby encrusted hilt of their father’s dagger hanging on her leather girdle, “You’ll definitely need that but I doubt human forged metal could kill a god.”
Freya’s face darkened. The thunder drummed outside their castle. Lightning flashed illuminating everything for just a moment.
“You know we have no choice,” Erik sighed. He was always a serious boy. The weight of his future was heavy on his young shoulders. Freya thought if he were just a warrior then he’d be far happier.
“Father made the deal 22 years ago,” Erik said. “Now that he’s dead, Veles will come for you. One cannot defy the gods.”
Freya’s jaw clenched, set in a grim fashion. Her stormy blue eyes flashed. She knew he was right but Freya wasn’t about to admit it out loud. It wasn’t in her nature to surrender.
Knowing it was useless to argue, Erik shrugged and fell silent. Suddenly the doors to the hall opened, letting in the storm’s howling winds and the torrent rain. The candles all blew out leaving the entire castle dark and full of foreboding.
A scent of fresh rain, wet earth, and wild flowers filled the space as a hooded stranger walked in silent and unannounced.
A small shiver crept up Princess Freya’s spine as she saw the hooded stranger walking into the hall calmly as if this were a fine summer morning and not a stormy winter day.
Everyone in the hall fell silent, but Erik’s wolf growled, standing by his master and ready to lunge at the stranger.
The hooded figure flashed his serpent eyes and released a low animalistic growl that made the wolf wilt and lay back down at his master’s feet.
“Are you… Veles?” King Erik asked cautiously ready to grab his sword if need be. It was a warrior’s reflex when danger was near. But the stranger smiled then nodded.
Princess Freya regained her composure, returning to her imperious self. But when the stranger turned to her a tremor of doubt surged through some of her limbs. Her scalp grew hot and palms prickled as he held out his hand to her.
“Princess…,” he spoke in a cultivated manner.
Freya usually towered over men but this stranger could meet her eyes without moving his head.
He held out a human hand to her. Freya allowed her hand to rest in his. His skin was somewhat rough but warm like a flame. The stranger took her hand then pressed his lips to her fingers.
Freya felt a spark ignite in her soul as well as her loins once his lips made contact. They were thin, smooth, and moist. Full of sensual knowledge.
His earthy scent filled Freya’s lungs. She began to wonder with flushed cheeks what those lips would feel like on hers… and on the rest of her body.
“We are honored to have a god such as yourself in our house,” King Erik said.
“I doubt that,” Veles said. “Most would not welcome the underworld into their home.”
“Regardless,” King Erik frowned. “My father made you a promise and I intend to keep his word.”
“Good boy,” Veles said though Erik hated being called “boy”. “Gods don’t like being tricked and those who try have tragic ends.”
Erik’s jaw tightened. His blue eyes like icicles as they stared the god down. Veles returned his gaze to the stunned Princess.
“Shall we go then?” he asked. It was rhetorical of course. Freya didn’t have much of a choice. But some parts of her were impatient to leave…
As lightning split the sky, the stranger grew great leathery wings and grew in size. He transformed from a human into a large dragon with dark emerald scales, large leathery wings, long curved black claws, and a pair of golden black slitted eyes.
Everyone shouted in fear as the dragon set it’s sights on Princess Freya who stood her ground frozen in surprise, fear, and warrior impulse. It was not in her nature to run from danger.
She instinctively reached for the dagger that hung on her leather girdle when the dragon god swept Freya up in his dark claws, careful not crush his intended bride. He enveloped them both in his wings then spun around turning into a gale of wind.
They flew out the window leaving catastrophe in their wake. Then Freya remembered only blackness…
***
Freya didn’t know how long she was asleep. She woke up in a strange place wearing strange clothes. When she tried to move the princess found some hindrance and heard a small clinking sound.
Freya found that she had a small yet strong chain around her ankle, shackling her to the bed. Around her neck was a copper collar with a giant garnet stone set in the middle.
She tried to remove both but there didn’t seem to be a lock on either of them as if someone had forged them while placing them on her body.
Neither of the shackles chafed in any way. The chain was elegant and thin but stronger than any human made metal. Gods loved their tricks.
Freya found that she could move around freely about the room except outside it and there was a chamber pot by her.
She saw that she was in a bedroom. A royal bedroom. She was laying on a four poster bed with the posts carved into tree branches that stretched above her and red velvet curtains draped over them.
The bed was soft and warm covered with animal furs: wolf, stag, bear, etc. Beside her was a golden bowl of fruit and two golden goblets encrusted with garnets and rubies.
Looking about the room it looked as if Princess Freya were taken to a place underneath a tree. The roots were close together and there were no doors or windows. How did she get in here?
Then again Freya was taken by a dragon god…
The room smelled of spices, leather, and earth. Freya could even taste the flavors the air was so thick with them. There was a large hearth with a big orange, red, and yellow flame dancing as wood crackled. Shadows danced on the root walls when Freya heard a dark, masculine voice:
“Welcome to my home. Or I suppose it’s your home now.”
Princess Freya jumped suddenly seeing a man sitting on a chair by the hearth smiling at her like a house cat that had cornered it’s mouse.
He was incredibly handsome. Wheat colored locks, fair skin without blemish, fine sculpted muscles that showed the mark of a man who did hard labor and yet he looked like he never worked a day in the field or fought in the scorching sun. He wore a fine black tunic with a leather belt.
His eyes were as blue as clear sky. Intense in his gaze as if he would burn a hole into Freya’s very soul. He had an aristocratic nose with a masculine jawline. Everything about his bone structure shouted royalty.
He had a strapping build like a viking warrior that Freya always found attractive. His lips were full and sensuous and smiled at her with arrogant charm.
Freya’s heart jumped into her throat for a few seconds.
“You didn’t have many things but that dagger,” the man pointed towards where her wedding dress was folded neatly and her dagger with the bejeweled hilt sat upon it. “A lovely one by the way. Your father’s I assume.”
Her warrior instincts returning, Freya dove for the dagger then held it at the man.
“Who are you?” she commanded. “Where am I?”
“Settle down, Princess,” said the man but Freya never wavered.
The man frowned then with a cocked eyebrow, “You dare threaten a god?”
Then Freya smelled wet earth and rain. She realized that it was Veles, the dragon god of the underworld and that this must be his lair.
“Are we in the underworld?” she asked her voice steady but her body trembled slightly as superstition began to take hold.
“You’re a smart girl I’m sure you already know the answer to that,” Veles chuckled as he stood up from his seat. He met Freya’s eyes with a smoldering stare that made her heart skip.
Freya’s heart sank. She lowered her weapon but still held onto it with a deathly grip.
“You’re not dead,” Veles reassured her as he poured himself some wine into the golden goblets. “It’s important you know that.”
He offered her a drink but Freya made no move to accept it. Veles smiled at her defiance.
“You should be honored that a god has chosen you to be his consort,” Veles smirked.
“Consort?” Freya cocked an incredulous eye brow tugging on her ankle chain angrily.
“Well that…,” Veles shrugged as he took a sip of the wine from his own goblet. “That’s so you don’t run away. I promise once you accept your situation I’ll remove it.”
“And what about this collar?” Freya touched the smooth metal testily, trying to keep her royal composure. Though her thoughts were becoming fuzzy as she watched Veles’s biceps flex at his slightest movement.
The way his Adam’s Apple bobbed when he swallowed and lips smacked after he sipped his wine. She wondered how the wine would taste on her lips while at the same time Freya wondered how quickly she could stab him in the gut and get away.
“That…,” the dragon chuckled. “That is to protect you. It shows the other gods that you are mine and under my protection.”
“Gods don’t believe in rings?” Freya retorted.
“You’re beautiful when you’re angry has anyone ever told you that?”
Freya’s cheeks burned and her stomach fluttered. A part of her wanted his hands on her body. His smirking lips on her neck and her breast. Her loins felt damp and her thighs grew a bit sticky. Blood throbbed in her veins with a scarlet web of desire.
“Anyway…,” Veles set the goblet of wine down beside the bowl of fruit then folded his muscular arms, making his sculpted pecs bulge. Freya went scarlet from anger as well as arousal.
“You’re mine now…,” he said with the authority of a god. “So you must kneel before your master.”
Freya refused. She stood silent, her chin held high in defiance and her knuckles turned white as she readjusted her grip on the dagger.
Veles frowned.
“Kneel,” Veles commanded with more sincerity.
“I kneel to no one,” Freya crossed her arms, hiding her firm round breasts and hardened nipples that poked through the thin fabric.
“I’m not only your master but a god,” Veles warned softly. “You will obey.”
Freya stood her ground, her blue eyes stormy with conviction, “I kneel to no man or god.”
Veles laughed then licked his lips. Her defiance only made her more delicious. Freya held the blade’s gleaming sharp edge at the dragon as he took a step forward.
The dragon god seemed unfazed. With lightning speed, Veles took the dagger from the raging princess and held it to her swan-like neck. Fear flashed in her eyes but then burned into courage.
The dragon took Freya by the neck, his fingers tangled in her silken gold hair. She smelled like freshly washed wool and the loom. Her skin was soft like a lamb.
An evil chuckle rumbled from the back of his throat, dragging the blade’s tip across her fair flesh trailing it down to the tie of her chemise he said, “You will to me.”
The dragon saw the princess’s nipples poke through the thin white fabric. Veles could sense her arousal and desire. She was fighting her womanly instincts to submit.
Veles tore Freya’s gossamer chemise to fully reveal her fair flesh. Some places there were small white scars from what Veles suspected were from her childhood. Princess Freya liked to play rough.
She had a dark mole beneath her right breast that he tried to kiss but ferocious Freya slapped him hard across the face.
The dragon god was caught off guard at first. No one had ever slapped him before let alone a human girl. There was no fear in those human blue eyes that were like two restless seas.
Veles pressed the point of the dagger to the princess’s throat. Hard enough to make a point but lightly enough not to draw blood. Anger bubbled up inside Veles that turned into a burning desire to bring this maiden to heel.
With an angry growl he whispered harshly into her ear, “You’ll pay dearly for that.”
Princess Freya’s mouth so bitter but also so alluring curved into a defiant smile as she dared, “Do your worst. But I won’t break.”
They stood dangerously entwined. Two warriors ready for a fight. One ready to die. But Veles didn’t want Freya to die. He could smell her courage radiating from her body mixing with her natural smell of clean wool.
Instead he threw her onto the grand bed of animal furs. She tried to get away but he pounced on her, holding the indignant princess down like a wild animal caught in a trap.
Veles had the imperious Freya pinned. She struggled but her human strength was nothing compared to a god’s.
Veles had the knife to her throat, pressed more dangerously against her chin. He could slice her from ear to ear if he was so inclined.
Feeling the cold steel against her hot flushed skin Freya stopped struggling, lying still beneath her kidnapper.
“So what’s to happen now?” Freya glared. “You’re going to eat me now is that it? You devour all of your brides?”
Veles’s mouth curved into a smile, eyes twinkling with carnal knowledge as he said, “Something like that…”
The dragon threw the dagger far away then removed his leather belt and bound Freya’s wrists together. She writhed and twisted to get free but the leather was too strong and so snug. She was like the fly caught in the spider’s web.
Veles’s clear blue sky eyes blazed down at the princess as he watched her strain with her binds. Then he stole a kiss from her, stopping her violent cries of outrage with his sensuous, sexy lips.
Freya’s lips were supple and reluctant. Veles’s brash kiss awoke something primal inside Freya. Her legs wanted to spread wide for him right then and there as his godly musk of earth filled her nostrils.
However, Freya bit down hard on Veles’s bottom lip in act of rebellion. She bit so hard she could taste his blood, warm and salty like a human’s.
Veles stopped kissing her but not because of the pain. Gods had a higher tolerance for pain. He smiled deviously.
He trailed kisses down Freya’s neck, between her firm breasts, then down her flat stomach until he came to the entrance of her femininity, her downy mound. Veles saw the dew of her arousal glistening on her puffy lips, saturated with lust for him.
The dragon god inhaled the scent of her excitement. Her body was certainly willing even if Freya was not.
Veles hovered over her center with an evil glint in his devilish blue eyes and a rakish grin.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Freya glared with her stormy eyes that shouted no but at the same time twinkled with some expectation.
Her heart felt an electric jolt as Veles imprinted a sizzling kiss on her inner thigh. He lightly traced his tongue along her golden flesh smiling as he felt her tremble.
The feeling of his rough tongue against her soft skin sent waves of pleasure through the princess, most especially to her budding clit.
Veles kissed her drizzling lips, his hot breath melting Freya who despite herself bucked her hips begging him to do more.
“Mmmm,” Veles groaned. “You taste so sweet, Princess Freya.”
Veles teased her damp pussy lips, kissing her most sensitive spot, licking her along her wet slit making her moan with need.
He tortured her until she was soaking the sheets with her cum. Then Veles devoured her pussy with deep sweeping strokes of his tongue. Licking her like a dog lapping at water after being without for so long.
Freya’s muscles tensed as a hot surge of lightning coursed through her veins. Veles took hold of her wriggling hips, keeping her grounded as his tongue pierced her insides like a hunter’s spear aiming true at it’s prey.
Freya bit her bottom lip, closing her eyes as waves of delight washed over her like a bucket of warm water.
Her legs spread a little wider, her one foot resting on Veles’s muscular back, once in a while her toes would curl releasing a raspy moan as the dragon’s experienced tongue slowly made circles around her stiff pink pearl.
Princess Freya couldn’t find any words of resistance or anger to say. Just when she was about to insult the dragon his tongue would do something so wonderful that Freya would be swept away by the current of ecstasy and the words would melt in her mouth turning to sonorous moans.
She whimpered and writhed as the dragon god’s tongue plunged deep into her pulsating core. She felt his hand caress her breast and squeeze it gently. Lightning shot through Freya once more as she felt Veles tweak her nipple which was as hard as any diamond right now.
Freya was climbing higher towards heaven, her climax approaching dizzying heights. Her body tensed, her muscles locked as that big wave crashed over her. The princess even cried out in a passion. She felt herself gush, a hot liquid escaping her sacred core and Veles licking it with relish.
He rose up from between her soaked, glistening thighs with a smile. Her love juices dripped from his chin. Freya was breathless, unable to find the words of fight to fire at her captor and attentive torturer at the moment.
The dragon climbed up from between Freya’s glistening golden thighs kissing her blossoming bosom as it rose and fell with her ragged breathing. Then they came face to face.
Veles took hold of Freya’s chin so she couldn’t look away then claimed her lips in a soft wet kiss.
Princess Freya tasted herself on the dragon’s lips. Sweet. She never thought of herself as sweet. Freya was always bitter because she knew from a young age that she had been sold into slavery to a god like cattle.
She could feel his masculinity hard and throbbing against her own wet womanhood and Freya finally let herself think about how it would feel to have him inside her.
But she regained a mutinous expression on her lovely face, finally finding her words of rebellion and said, “You’re an evil bastard.”
“That’s not what women usually say after I give them such pleasure,” Veles tilted his head to the left gazing upon his captive bride with curiosity.
“You think you’ve won?” Freya willed her face to become indignant but she couldn’t tame the wild beating of her heart. “You think I’ll just open my legs for you now every time you walk in the room? You’re going to shove that dragon cock inside me now?”
Veles pressed the full weight of his body onto Freya who felt the pulse of his aching arousal against her trembling soaked sex.
“I could…,” Veles whispered seductively, watching Freya. Her chest tightened with panic, the princess’s face hot, quaking with fright but also expectation.
Veles gazed upon her beautiful flushed face that glistened with small beads of sweat from her exhausted lust. His cock was was rigid. His eager maleness wanted to hammer into her tight wet pussy until he came deep inside her womb.
He caught Freya’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up towards his he looked as if he were about to take her breath away with another kiss.
Instead Veles came tantalizingly close to her mouth only to skim over her lips then kiss her forehead.
“Not yet, my willful princess,” Veles whispered into her forehead, tasting the salt of her brow. “Soon… I promise…”
Freya watched Veles’s clear blue eyes haughty with victory that made her angry but her loins burned with wanting for him. A delicious shudder shot through her body. She was disturbed by the budding raw power of her attraction to him.
The princess resolved to escape as Veles released her from the leather binds. Her limbs were numb and prickled as blood began to circulate again.
“Whatever you desire will appear,” Veles explained. He pointed to her collar, “Just rub that stone and whatever you need: food, drink, pleasure… It’s yours in a blink. But don’t think it will grant your wish for freedom—I know that look. I shall return to you soon…”
And in a blink of an eye the god was gone leaving the princess alone to formulate an escape plan.
***
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