Chapter 4: Rachael and the Overseer

One of the more pleasant ways to wake in the morning is to find your pussy is being devoured by an eager tongue. I don’t even need to open my eyes to know who is assaulting my unresisting body.

“Hmm. That’s good, Zoe,” I sigh, as her tongue starts teasing my clit. I surrender myself to the building arousal her skilful work is creating.

Finding my cousin Zoe was the only good surprise I had on a day full of surprises. That was five days ago, when Jamal sold me to the owners of the Halls of Valhalla. He sold Dania and Phoebe as well, but I had guessed that was his plan from the moment we arrived here. I should be angry with Jamal for accepting the additional money Leif offered for my inclusion in the sale. But that is simply the way life works in Emarukistan. The strong enslave the weak and the powerless, and society always favours the strong. I enjoyed fucking Jamal but there are plenty of other men who will be eager to fuck me.

Zoe pushes two of her fingers up my arse as her tongue teases my clit. The sensation is divine and although I do my best to stall my orgasm, I cannot hold back much longer. It’s a game Zoe and I used to play before her father sold her at the behest of his new legal wife. Zoe, like me, was born to a slave concubine, so we’ve been slaves for all of our lives. My father freed me from slavery while he was drunk, and my manumission has been registered at a local temple. But without the means to support myself, my freedom means nothing. So I continue my life as a slave.

The Halls of Valhalla are a training facility for newly enslaved women, such as Dania and Phoebe. There’s a steady flow of such unfortunates who are either captured in raids, or are forced into slavery when their families can’t pay their debts. It’s unusual for members of powerful families, like Lord Mustafa’s, to fall into slavery, but without a man to protect them, Dania and Phoebe were almost certain to end up in a place like the Halls of Valhalla.

My orgasm hits me like an exploding volcano. My juices squirt out of my cunt, much to Zoe’s delight. She laps up what she can of my offering while I regain my senses. We conclude our pleasant game with a passionate kiss.

“How did you know it was me teasing your pussy?” asks Zoe. “It could just have easily been Leif or Sigmund.”

Leif and Sigmund are the two brothers who own and run the Halls of Valhalla. They are virile young men who enjoy all the comforts a household of nubile slaves can provide. Zoe and I are here to service their plentiful needs so that they can preserve the virginity of their stock. In between getting fucked, the two of us keep the place clean and ensure the other slaves get washed and fed.

“I can tell the difference between a tongue and a cock,” I laugh. “Neither of them would bother arousing me before ramming their cocks into any of my three holes.”

“Hmm. That’s true. Anyway, I suppose we had better get to work.”

It’s well before dawn, and our first task after our ablutions is to wake the fifteen slave girls kept locked in the basement cells. At least Zoe and I get a flock mattress to sleep on, whereas the other slaves sleep on hard wooden shelves.

We walk past the room where Leif and Sigmund sleep. The loud snores confirm they are fast asleep and aren’t likely to wake for another few hours. That’s not surprising considering the amount of ale they consumed last night while entertaining a group of prospective buyers for some of Valhalla’s current stock of slaves.

You might wonder why Zoe and I don’t simply walk out of here while our owners are asleep. The main doors are bolted from the inside, so it would be easy for us to leave. The nightwatchman is so old that I doubt he can stay awake all night. But it would be an impossible venture. We both wear an iron collar clearly denoting we belong to the House of Valhalla. No free man or woman would assist us if we escaped. Without any way of securing a job or a place to sleep we would simply starve to death in some alley. Going back to my father’s compound would be pointless. He would either return us to the House of Valhalla, or keep us a slaves in his household until his wife persuaded him to get rid of us.

Zoe and I unbolt the cell doors and rouse the sleeping slaves. There are six cells with room for four slaves in each. Dania and Phoebe share a cell to themselves. Their first task is to empty their night pots into the foul smelling pit at the end of the cell block. Then they take turns in washing themselves in the trough of water nearby. As with most slaves in Emarukistan, they are kept naked apart from a tiny loin cloth. Minimal though it is, they must keep their loin cloth clean and any stains must be scrubbed clean before they are allowed any breakfast.

The House of Valhalla has a practise of keeping slaves in training shackled together in pairs or groups of three. In addition to discouraging any escape attempt, it ensures each slave must cooperate with at least one other at all times. Newly enslaved women often become fearful and despondent, and the practise discourages any slave from sinking into despair and isolating themselves from the rest.

Zoe has been here for several weeks and she knows the history of most of the fifteen slaves currently in training. Dania and Phoebe are the most recent arrivals, and the only locals. Six of the young women are fair haired and white skinned, suggesting they have been transported from the far north to be sold as exotic bed-warmers to wealthy men who like to fuck barbarian girls. Three of the other seven young women are recent captives kidnapped and enslaved by one of the many gangs of brigands that plague outlying communities. The other four were sold by their fathers to slave traders to raise enough money to pay family debts.

A few of the slaves seem comfortable with their new station in life. They obey orders promptly and openly display their bodies when men are nearby without any hesitation or shame. I’m sure they will soon be ready for the auction block.

At the other end of the scale, Dania and Phoebe still have too much pride and arrogance that needs to be trained out of them. Even the new slave tattoo on the back of their right shoulders hasn’t woken them up to the fact that they will never again be free women. But I’m sure Leif and Sigmund’s new overseer, Knut, will quickly persuade them to submit.

I met Knut for the first time yesterday. He’s from the far north and he has only recently arrived in our city. He only knows a few words of our language, so I’ve been assigned as his interpreter when Leif and Sigmund aren’t around. Knut carries a wicked looking cane and a coiled whip is always fastened to his belt when he’s working with the slaves. I wouldn’t like to be on the wrong end of either of those instruments. But it is Knut’s rippling muscles and the huge bulge in his briefs that attract the most interest from the slaves. I suspect all of us fantasize about his cock filling our cunts.

I go to the kitchen and collect the huge bowl of oats that I left soaking overnight for the slaves’ breakfast. Zoe has the slaves line up and she hands them a small wooden bowl for their food. On my signal, they come to the serving table in their coffle and I fill their bowls with oats. Zoe and I then fill our own bowls and we join the slaves in eating our breakfast. We aren’t allowed any implements, so we must eat with our fingers.

While any fool could clean the bowls after we’ve finished, I only assign the task to a coffle who seem able to move about without tangling their leg irons on one of the many obstacles in the kitchen. The kitchen is very small, and is more cluttered than usual after last night’s party.

By now dawn has arrived and I can hear Knut moving about. Leif and Sigmund aren’t likely to surface for another hour. Zoe and I check the slaves are ready for whatever training they are to undergo today. Although Zoe and I enjoy a few extra privileges, we are never allowed to forget that we are still slaves. Knut enters the room where the slaves are lined up ready for him.

“I need to fuck one of you,” he says in his own language.

He’s not allowed to fuck any of the stock, so that means it needs to be Zoe or me who must satisfy his lust. So far I’m the only woman in the room who knows what he said.

“I will attend to your needs, master,” I say.

He grunts in response and roughly drags me over to the table. He has me stand facing the table before pushing me forward so that my chest is lying flat on the table. He lifts my loin cloth over my back. There’s no foreplay. Before I can mentally prepare myself, he rams his rock hard cock into my cunt. He’s not gentle with his thrusts and I have difficulty keeping my feet on the floor. He climaxes with a great roar and I can feel his plentiful cum filling my innards. It’s not the best fuck I’ve ever had, but it’s a good enough start to my day. Having emptied his balls, he tucks his cock away and walks over to the bemused line of women who are wondering if they might be next to be fucked in such a rough fashion. I know that they won’t be fucked while they are at the House of Valhalla, but I see no reason to reassure them.

Zoe hands me a cloth so I can mop up Knut’s cum which is leaking from my cunt. She gathers some of his cum on her fingers which she then delights in sucking clean.

“Next time it is my turn,” she laughs.

Knut has the slaves practise the dozen or so of the standard positions slaves can be ordered to display. It’s basic slave training, but even some of those who have been here for some time don’t always get it right. Zoe and I don’t have time to watch them for long as we have chores to do.

Fortunately, the House of Valhalla has it’s own well in the courtyard next to the kitchen. That means Zoe and I are spared the task of hauling water from the communal cistern in the main square. Nevertheless, there are plenty of rooms that need dusting and washing, particularly the private viewing rooms Leif and Sigmund use to show off their prime stock. Some lecherous man among yesterday’s guests must have been unable to contain his lust, and he shot a load of his cum all over one of the expensive leather chairs. Cleaning the residual stain to the standard required is going to be hard work.

Thankfully, Zoe and I aren’t required to do all the household work. Leif hires a local man called Gwynfor to help out. Gwynfor owns twenty or so older slaves, who come and do some of the less pleasant tasks like scrubbing kitchen pots and cleaning the latrines. I sympathise with Gwynfor’s slaves as it is likely Zoe and I will end up like them one day, once we are no longer attractive enough to excite a man’s cock.

But being unable to excite a man’s cock isn’t a problem either of us have at the moment. Knut isn’t the only man here who wakes up wanting to fuck a woman. At least Leif and Sigmund wait until they’ve attended to any urgent business before hauling Zoe and I off to the special room they like to use. The Green Room is an exotically furnished pseudo-dungeon used whenever a regular client wants to make an intimate inspection of an intended purchase. According to Zoe, it is also the room Leif and Sigmund use when they are in the mood for something more than a quick fuck.

The room is equipped with two large wooden A-frames with a padded horizontal block at cunt height. We are told to remove our loincloths and stand facing an A-frame. Zoe’s ankles are chained to the lower shackles on an A-frame, and her wrists chained high above her head to the top of the A-frame. It provides Leif and Sigmund with a perfect view of her arse, which is pushed outwards by the padded block. I’m similarly chained to the other A-frame. I’m surprised that we are chained with our bodies facing the frame since it is more usual to be positioned facing outwards. I don’t immediately notice that Knut has joined us in the room.

“You can prove your boast with these two,” says Leif in his native language.

“Which one first?” asks Knut.

“Either one. And remember, these two need to be able to resume work afterwards.”

“That won’t be a problem. I’m an expert at punishing a slave without doing any lasting damage.”

“So you claim. That’s what we want you to prove,” says Leif.

I get no warning beyond Knut moving closer to me so that I can see him out of the corner of my eye. The first stroke of his whip across my back lands with a light stinging sensation. I cry out in surprise rather than in pain. No slave likes being whipped, particularly if she’s done nothing to deserve it. Even though it has been a long time since I last endured a whipping, I can vividly recall that event. The second stroke lands a little harder, but the stinging is no worse than the pain I’ve endured while doing heavy work. Each of the following four strokes is a little harder than its predecessor, but the pain is well within my ability to tolerate. I don’t even cry out, although I can’t prevent a gasp as the fifth and sixth stokes land.

Having completed his task, Knut runs his hand over my abused back. By now the area has turned into a pleasant warm glow and his actions arouse me. I wiggle my arse as he explores more of my body. My tits get a firm rub before he plunges his hand between my legs.

“She’s wet,” laughs Knut. “See for yourself.”

“Probably pissed herself,” mutters Sigmund as he comes over to inspect my flowing juices. “Hmm. Perhaps you’re right. She’s looks ready to be fucked good and hard. Why don’t you see how you go on with the other slave while I satisfy my cock with this one.”

“I can’t do that while Leif is exercising his cock in her innards,” says Knut.

A cry of triumph from Leif suggests that he’s just shot his load into Zoe’s cunt. It isn’t pleasant being fucked in the position we have been placed, but I suspect Zoe’s about to endure something far more uncomfortable. I can’t see Zoe from my position, so I can only guess at what she is enduring. Besides, Sigmund is ready to fuck me. Despite the state of my back, I’m more than ready too.