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A fortnight ago, a great and terrible storm came out of the frozen depths of the sea that consumed us, as it was the behemoth of hell. It is with heavy heart and trembling hand that I pen these lines to tell the tale that befell our island community. I shall here bare witness to the events that occurred here so that the servants of god may be aroused to defense from the fury of the pagans. God protect us all.

The morning began with a chill fog rolling off the surf and growing lighter gray with the first rays of the rising sun behind it. The young nuns went down to the shore in preparation to gather salt for trade and support, as was the custom of their duties, before morning bells calling them to pray. I watched their long black clad forms make the descent to the rocky sands, as was my habit, from the slit window of my cell high above. Just as they were leaving their first footprints on the cold mud of the shore, I seen one of their number raise a finger and point out to sea. Following her indication, I too turned my gaze to the foggy east.

That is when I saw it. The most horrible sight my mortal eyes had ever beheld. Parting the fog and cutting the surf crest it came, the head of a giant serpent rising from the depths. I must admit I gasped in spite of myself with astonishment. Only for a moment, surely this could not be some foul beast or drake from the sea. All too soon I realized this was no beast, but a host of beastly men sailing on a heathen craft meant to stir terror upon all who saw it.

The young brides of Christ began to shriek with fear and flee back up the rocky slope to the safety of the walls. These sounds were joined by the blood lust cries of the barbarians pulling their oars harder in pursuit of such fleeting treasures.

Knowing it was my duty as bailiff to see to the protection of the nuns I leapt from the window of my cell. With as great of haste as possible I seized my long dusty blade from its resting place above my cell door and jumped to the stairwell. I was screaming alarm incoherently, moving on instinct alone. I raced out the tower and crossed the cobbled courtyard as I heard shrieks and cries from the windows above. Rushing out the gate, I called for someone to see to the portcullis, but I realized immediately that was a futile waste of breath, as I left no males behind me to dutifully follow my commands, only a pack of already terrified and helpless women.

The neophyte girls were clamoring up the rocks all slowed in their efforts by the confines of their heavy habits as I reached the ridge. I waved my sword above my head and bade them to hasten for the love of god Free Rape Porn Gallery. However, all in vain, the Vikings were already splashing ashore. Hammering their swords, spears, and axe hafts against their round wooden shields. Their voices echoed about us above the surf filled with bewitched lust. The glint of their steel helms flashed in the growing rays of dawn as their long strides carried them closer to the fleeing virgins.

I pulled the first nun up to the plateau, tearing the seam in her shoulder with my unrestrained force and flung her towards the sanctuary of the convent. I barked at her to close the portcullis behind her, but I doubt she understood in her fright.

I gripped the hilt of my sword with both hands and squared my shoulders to the sun. A soldier my entire life, I quite forgot at this most dire moment to whisper a hasty prayer for my immortal soul to our savior, perhaps this will explain later events. As a pair of other nuns scrambled past my feet, I looked down and knew I saw the face of my own death somewhere behind the eye rings of two score or more iron basinets quickly climbing the rocks to meet me. Therefore, I gritted my teeth and steeled my resolve with a deep hearty breath of the chill morning vapors.

I heard the cries as one of the slower nuns was seized from behind, betrayed by the length of her habit gown. I could not afford to pay it attention, as I was sure the wolves were already upon her to devour her purity with pagan mad raprocity.

In an instant, they were upon me. My steel sank deep into the shoulder of the first heathen to crest the rocks. His blood ran hot in the cold sun. But a trio of his brothers in arms, all with wild hair and fierce tongues were at me. I swung my sword in a wide arc trying to keep them from surrounding me, and thus granting a foul attack from flank or devilish back stab. The dance of four warriors began in earnest. I do not recall much but the ring of steel on steel and the shouts of men doing the work of men upon one another.

Pain came fast as I was hobbled from an arrow shot from far below. My thigh pierced and I collapsed under my weight. Soon I was disarmed and held fast upon the turf by the weight of one of my adversaries. I Remember wishing at that moment that they had had the decency to dispatch me immediately so I would not have to endure witnessing what I knew was to come.

Therefore, it came to pass anal forced sex. Within minutes of my capture my hands were bound. There was even more pain as the arrow was forcibly removed. I could hear screams of pain and fright echoing from within the walls as no doubt virtue after virtue was brutally befouled. There was anger in my heart and hatred in my eye. One of my guards laughed at this as he applied peat to my wound and tethered tight the bandage to hold it fast and true despite my thrashing against this heathen magic.

The hours past and the cries continued. By nightfall, the convent had been put to the torch and flames climbed into the stars above. Then he came to me. He spoke; though his speech was rough, he formed his words as carefully as he could. I was told the man I had slain was his half brother, and by rights, I should be his to slay. However, I had fought with the bravery of Tyr, and as such was worthy a warrior’s reward and death. I was certain that he intended there to kill me in single combat and strained against the ropes in anticipation of being freed only to die upon his steel.

What happened next stunned me more than the pain of the arrow first biting my thigh that morning. He asked me, “Do you have a true warrior’s heart? Show me you do and live as one, take your place in my brother’s stead and share in our spoils and victory. Or stay true to your martyr god and die as one of his pawns.”

I barely had time to comprehend his words when two of his comrades pushed into view and flung a struggling young beauty to the soil at my feet. Once I looked into her wide green eyes, I knew what he was asking me. I was born to the life of the sword, but had forsaken it to try and live the life of Christ. Here for years trapped alone with a flock of women I had never once gave in to the natural temptations that every night had so fired my blood. I had tried to hide my soul from myself, but here it was revealed to me once again in the flickering light of the torched convent.

It was as if the flames that lit the sky were blazing from the furnace within my own belly. I wave of lust washed over me, cleansing from me my Christian taboos and baptizing my blood with the fire of hell itself. She shook her still shrouded head as she watched my eyes light with pagan lust. I felt a dagger slice through the rope that dug my wrists and my arms burst from behind my back free female rape stories.

She screamed and the pagans rejoiced as I sprang upon her. I grasped her shoulders and forced her flat upon her spine. She pummeled my shoulders with feeble feminine fists as I licked her swaddled cheek. She was cursing me, reminding me that it was a mortal sin; but what matters sin to a heathen warrior? The air was rent with the sound of her dark linen shroud splitting as I yanked my fists apart above her breasts. Her pale skin glistened with cold sweat in the pale moonlight as the chill rush of the night air swelled her pink nipples to rigid perfection.

Like a ravenous dog, I engulfed a young pert breast in savage mouth. She screamed in my ears as I twirled her stiffened flesh peak with my tongue and suckled her viciously. MMy new comrades cheered in foreign tongues as she tried to kick me away, but her entangling gown betrayed her. I pulled my teeth off her flesh and roared to the night sky. Despite my wounded leg, I rose up enough to tug and rip at her cloth, baring her bit by bit to the moonlight. Her skin was white, pure as the virgin snow, and I dug on. She shrieked protest after protest as I revealed to all her tangled web of flame red fur.

My nostrils flared as I inhaled the musk she, like all her sisters, kept hoarded away from the touch of mortal men.

In an instant, I rose to my knees tearing her habit fully to expose her thighs. At this, she tried to scramble away. I laughed like a wolf that having wounded a stray calf from the herd was now toying with it. She scrambled and crawled trying to escape but was kicked back towards my by the furred boot of one of my new brothers. She sprawled on the soft wet soil and tried to wrap her nakedness in her tiny arms. The ring of warriors laughed heartily and raised horns of mead to the spectacle. As some of her flaming locks spilled from beneath her hood.

I jumped upon her causing her to gasp as my weight fell. I wrestled her arms away from her chest and held them pinned together with one hand stretched above her head. She kicked me hard in the belly with her bare knee, but I was so enflamed with lust I paid it no heed. I slapped her cheek hard to settle her down enough to pry her young thighs apart enough to allow me to settle my weight between them rough forced brutal.

She had tears streaming from both eyes as I fished my pulsing manhood from the laces of my breeches. I then slowly began tracing the flaming spearhead at the delicious folds of her treasures. She glared at me with hate in her eye, and she spat in my face as if that would insult me to seek her forgiveness. I growled, a primal growl then whispered to her, “Well bride of Christ, tell me if god will still want you when I have fouled your sweet garden?”

With that, she began to whisper prayers for herself, but her whispers were cut abruptly short as she gasped in pain and surprise as I forced her virgin channel open. She was tight with fear and useless neglect. I drove my weight against her gates thrice before her maidenhead relented. She gasped with pain and I roared with the joy of lust as my steel savored the blood of her purity.

With a madness that cannot be known, I charged her belly. Her bones shook with every surge of my hips battering her body and soul into the earth. Limply she kicked with her legs to the sky as tears streamed over her cheeks. So long had I denied my true self I was determined to savor the feast the gods had set before me. I slowed my assault and rolled myself slowly, exploring every crevice of her womb for some time.

Nevertheless, all too soon my head swam with the need to release my assault upon her once more. Therefore, with a devilish grunt I redoubled my efforts. I rammed her whole and hard with every ounce of my strength, pummeling her small pubic bone with my own. Deeper I drove my ram until I pressed unknown depths of flesh and bone, and ground them hard beneath my shaft. Faster and faster, I plunged like cresting surf breaking upon the rocks of the shore, I crashed upon her. My wild swinging testicles slapping the curve of her small ass as I bucked above her. The men of the circle began chanting something; I took up the time with my thrusts and grunted with them. Then suddenly I felt the long forgotten sensation of battle fill my entire soul, consume me it did. I pulled my head back and growled loudly to the heavens as I filled her tiny hole with years of denied lust.

My body twitched and shook with tremors as I held myself deep within her. I felt the burning spurt after spurt empty my loins into her body. Finally, gasping for breath I withdrew, a trail of seed and blood painted her thigh in the moonlight as I crawled away, exhausted and reborn free rape gallery. My new brothers cheered and someone thrust a horn of mead into my hand as hands clapped upon my shoulders and back. I looked down as watched as she curled into a tearful ball in the center of a ring of warriors. My wound began to throb as my cock slowly calmed. I took a pull at the mead, and forced myself to stand once more as a true warrior.

Since that night, I have converted wholly to a religion of warriors, not martyrs. I may walk with a limp the rest of my days, but I will walk the path of the warrior, to die in the glory of battle or revel in the ecstasy of rape in victory.

With our cargo of booty stowed, we have shoved off. The fire haired nun I will keep for amusements, the majority of the rest are destined for sale in distant ports. Yet, this scroll of parchment I leave adrift in a bottle emptied of sacramental wine in the hopes that Thor will see it carried to a lost soldier before he too loses site of himself, and through these lines fines enlightenment enough to find his way home.