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Vikings, some combination of Ragnar/Athelstan/Lagertha. NC-17. Dirty talk, light D/s, masturbation, shame.

Also at AO3.

Fill for my own prompt from dirty_kinkmeme. Warning for use of the "C" word for female genitals.


It was quiet in the hall for once; a lone day of good weather amidst a week of constant rain. The warriors were training, the women and servants tending their chores outside for a change, and the children gone down to the shore to play on the rocks. Athelstan sighed, watching the men and shieldmaidens sparring through the doorway, and returned to Ragnar and Lagertha's bedchamber to put away the socks he had been mending. It wasn't strictly his duty anymore, but it needed to be done, and Athelstan found solace in being useful.

The bedsheets were rumpled, and Athelstan had a flash of an image of Ragnar and Lagertha rolling on the bed, naked, limbs entwined. When they had lived in the farmhouse it had been a frequent and unwelcome sight. Now, Athelstan no longer slept so close to them, and his God and vow of chastity seemed farther and farther away. He had still not touched a woman, but he allowed himself to remember all the nights he had seen Lagertha, naked, skin glowing in the candlelight as she straddled Ragnar.

His hand found its way to his breeches as he closed his eyes and recalled her round breasts, and the soft curves of her body concealing hard muscle beneath. He thought of her kneeling before Ragnar and taking him into her mouth, of the way she teased her husband until he was nearly begging -- nearly, because a man like Ragnar never begged for anything.

A subtle cough from the doorway startled Athelstan out of his reverie and he yanked his hand out of his pants, cheeks flushed with arousal and embarrassment. "Oh no, don't stop," said Ragnar, lips quirked into a half smile. "Tell me what it is in my bedroom you find so...attractive."

"Sorry," Athelstan mumbled, looking at the floor -- anywhere but at Ragnar.

Ragnar put a hand on Athelstan's shoulder and ducked his head, trying to catch Athelstan's eyes. "Were you thinking of Lagertha? Do you want to fuck my wife?" Athelstan had always had a pale complexion, and he was certain the burning in his cheeks told Ragnar the answer to his question. Ragnar removed his hand and stepped back, and Athelstan braced himself -- for a blow? For a verbal assault?

"On your knees." It was an order, like Ragnar would give to his warriors, and Athelstan knelt at his feet. "Open your breeches."

Athelstan looked up in confusion. "What--"

"Open your breeches," Ragnar repeated, as if Athelstan were too thick to understand what he was saying. "I told you not to stop. It's what you want, isn't it? To touch yourself while thinking about my wife?"

Athelstan winced and started to stand up, but Ragnar forced him back down with firm hands. "Go on then. Lagertha would be sad to miss this; she has often told me how she wonders if you are enough of a man to take care of your body's needs. You are a man, aren't you, Priest?" There was challenge in his voice, and Athelstan wondered if this was some sort of test. But the idea that Lagertha had thought about this, had thought about him masturbating, was enough to prick his flagging erection back to attention.

"Yes," Athelstan murmured, "I am a man." He undid the laces on his breeches and pulled out his dick, stroking it slowly. His cheeks were still burning at exposing himself to Ragnar's gaze, but he forced himself past it. If this was how he had to prove his manhood to Ragnar, then so be it.

Ragnar laughed. "I see that you are. Lagertha and I wondered, after all, with all your modesty, whether you even had balls or not. Maybe you Christians make your priests eunuchs. She will be glad to know that's not true." He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, piercing eyes still fixed on Athelstan. "What would you like to do to Lagertha? Do you want to feel her breasts? They are soft and round. Did you know, they are heavier than they look. Ever since having the children, her breasts have been just a little bigger and a little heavier."

Athelstan's cock twitched at the thought of putting his hands on Lagertha's breasts, and he stroked himself a little faster. "She likes it when you bite her nipples. For some women it's too much, but not for Lagertha. The harder the better. Would you like to bite her nipples, Priest?"

Athelstan bit his lip and did not answer. He was startled by a sharp pain as Ragnar slapped him across the face. "I asked you a question. Would you like to bite my wife's nipples?"

"Yes," Athelstan choked out. "Yes."

Ragnar smiled and relaxed again. "Good. She would like that." Athelstan gripped his dick a little harder. "Do you know what else she would like? Lagertha likes to have her cunt licked. She is very insistent about how she likes to have it done. Have you ever looked at a woman's cunt? Do you even know what they look like?"

"No," Athelstan said, and was glad his voice did not waver.

"Lagertha would help you find your way. There is a small nub at the top that gives great pleasure to women. Lagertha likes for you to suck on it. Would you do that for her? Would you lick and suck my wife's cunt and get your face covered in her juices?"

It was a sin, just like all of this was a sin, and his guts clenched at the thought of eternal damnation, but Athelstan gasped, "Yes." He had seen Ragnar doing such a thing and wondered at it. Athelstan imagined himself bending over Lagertha, his mouth full of her, while she directed him with her hands twisted in his hair and Ragnar whispered instruction in his ear. His hand sped up, jerking himself roughly as his climax began to build.

"Do you want to fuck her, too? Do you want to fuck my wife?"

"Y-Yes."

"Say it."

"Yes, I want to f-- fuck your wife," Athelstan stuttered, breath hitching.

"Even after the children, she is so hot and so tight. You who have never known a women can't even imagine, but of all the women I have fucked there are none who compare to Lagertha. She can grip you with her muscles and squeeze the seed out of you. Lagertha likes to be on top. She would ride you like a horse, fuck you so hard you would forget even your own name." Ragnar leaned forward, lips close to Athelstan's ear, as if confiding a secret. "Do you know, she has said to me she wonders what it would be like to have two men inside her at once, one in her cunt and one in her ass. We could do it for her, you and I. Do you want to fuck my wife's ass?"

"Oh God," Athelstan choked, and bit his tongue for taking the Lord's name in vain. A helpless laugh burst out of him at the thought that he should chastise himself for such a thing when the weight of sin from his lust was all around him. "Yes."

"Tell me what you want to do to my wife," Ragnar said, grabbing Athelstan's chin and forcing him to meet his eyes.

Athelstan bit his lip, then forced the words out. "I want to fuck Lagertha. I w-want to bite her nipples. I want to lick her c-cunt." His breath was ragged and his cheeks burning as he tried to get out the last of it with Ragnar's eyes focused completely on him. "I want to fuck her in the ass so she can have both of us at once. I want to fuck her while you watch. I want you to tell me how to fuck her."

"Do you want me to fuck you, too?" Ragnar asked, and Athelstan couldn't answer, couldn't even think, as his climax rushed over him. He pitched forward, catching himself with one hand on the floor.

Ragnar laughed and tossed the mended socks at Athelstan's head. "Clean that mess up. Lagertha hates a messy house." He left, without another word, leaving Athelstan with his breeches around his knees, out of breath, to contemplate the magnitude of his sins.

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