Live, Love, Lose - 44. Chapter 44

 I put the cast just before the chapter, so feel free to skip if you prefer to keep your own imagination at work  

As the days passed, the visions had started again, and this only confirmed he had been right about the puzzle thing in which a missing piece would be added every night. He had been trying to dismiss it, but the more the time passed, the harder it became.

There was a recurring name which he heard in these visions: Mímir. Apparently, it was that of the boy who looked similar to him. And he also saw four other men, all with blue eyes, who looked fierce and scary like real warriors and whom he could only figure out were related to him.

Then, they became more and more precise. He could hear them speak as if he were there with them. The boy learnt from them that their father had been made a prisoner and then killed after he had attempted to invade the East of England. And of course they planned to avenge his death. But before they did anything Mímir asked his eldest brother, whose name he couldn’t discover, to let him deal with the killing of all the King’s men first. His brother had been surprised because he knew the King’s men were quite, quite numerous, and Mímir would be the only one against them all. But Mímir then assured him: “Do you think I would be dumb enough to do something I was sure would get me killed?” With an impassive face and tone.

Then he didn’t precisely know how Mímir had done it, but he saw all the men’s dead bodies lying on the floor of what looked like some kind of tavern. He saw Mímir walk in the middle of the main aisle, inspecting every table and every dead body. He didn’t know it at first; he could only realise it was him once he stopped in the middle of the aisle and removed the black hood that had been hiding his short platinum blond hair. His light blue eyes were surrounded by black. It drew a sharp contrast with his pale skin.

After that, he brought a stew to the King himself, slipping into the castle, and now that all the Royal Guard’s men had died, how could he have had any difficulty doing that? He said to him it was an offering, a dish he had made specially for him and his son. And what shocked him was that his son was actually the boy he had already seen before, who looked like George.

The king looked skeptical at first and the boy didn’t look friendly either… he called for his men, but no one came. He grumbled but then Mímir said the dish was a gift from his daughter. But the King still didn’t look convinced. He unsheathed what looked like a sword from his waist and just said coldly : “Eat.”

They both ate the dish, seemingly enjoying it. But then as they had almost finished it Mímir said to the King: “I’m glad to see you enjoy the taste of your daughter.”

The King seemed troubled by his words as Mímir’s eyes were shifting back and forth to the King’s eyes and the dish.

“Dohtor…” the King ended up saying, looking absolutely horrified as some kind of realisation seemed to dawn on him.

“Dóttir,” Mímir repeated calmly, imperturbable.

Then he watched the king vomit everything he had eaten.

“You should be happy that your son wasn’t in it too.”

And then he caught the youth by surprise from behind, again he didn’t see precisely how, and he held a knife to his throat.

The King begged him to spare his son’s life, even if he couldn’t understand what he had said precisely, it wasn’t needed, the situation spoke for itself.

What’s more precious for a father than his children’s lives?

He kept begging, but Mímir didn’t do anything, and the waiting seemed to be endless, at least for the King.

It’s easy to give orders and execute people mercilessly when one has all the power, whether they are innocent people or enemies. But what’s left of a King when what he holds dear to his heart has been taken away from him?

The king was left speechless by his words, but it seemed that it was more because he couldn’t understand rather than because of what he had just said in itself.

May you fear Ódinn’s wrath, for your judgment will soon come.

Mímir just ended up cutting the skin slightly, drawing a bit of blood, and then pushed the boy forward who then fell on the floor. Then he left them.

Later he found the boy in the forest who was obviously trying to escape, but he was caught by two stout Vikings.

It’s not nice to leave us without even saying goodbye before. This is not done.

The boy struggled, but there was no way he could run away.

The time for your father has come. He must pay for his crime. And you’re going to witness it all. You’re going to see the Vikings’ culture at its finest.

A pause.

Blóðörn.

That particular word was etched into his mind.

Then he saw how his eldest brother performed that horrifying and bloody ritual that was called blóðörn. He watched everything without batting an eye, as if he were already quite used to seeing it.

And the King’s son was just before his father; he couldn’t have been any closer. And once the ritual was over, Mímir approached him, knife in hand, and then he carved a bloody eagle on his back from behind. And he didn’t seem to be disturbed at all by the youth’s screams of pain.

Once he had finished with that, he came close to him, face to face, and whispered: "This was just a foretaste of the real blóðörn. If you ever dare try to kill a Viking, you’ll end up like your father, got it?"

He then grabbed his face with one hand and squeezed it.

Já?

Then he brought the blade close to his face and licked the blood that was on it, slowly.

From now onwards, you’ll be our slave.

That’s all he could remember from his nightly visions. And that was already quite a lot.

He hadn’t talked to anyone about it, and didn’t plan on doing so. He wasn’t even sure it was the kind of thing he could tell his parents or siblings about. He hadn’t and wouldn’t because he felt no one could help him and do anything about it. They were just…visions that made no sense to him. So who could possibly give him advice on what to do about them?

Besides, he had other things on his mind more important to think about. Like dealing with how his lower region hadn’t been the same ever since what had happened that time with George.

He surprised himself several times by stroking his member in the bathroom while he was supposed to be taking a shower. It was something he had never even thought about, and now that was all he could think of, it was a real obsession. It felt good but not as good as when George did this with his mouth…

What had he turned him into?

George had just been pretending nothing had happened, but he was so used to it by that time that it had become natural. He hadn’t tried to make any move on purpose, waiting for George to do it, meaning they had been ignoring each other mutually, though they were actually quite aware of the other’s presence.

It seemed that the game was only starting.

One evening he finally decided to take action. As George had just left the bathroom with only briefers on, he kissed him suddenly, taking him by surprise, and before he could do anything, he pinned him down on the bed and had his way with him, licking, nibbling and sucking the skin of his neck, and when he expected it the least…

He removed his underwear and grabbed his manhood, making George gasp in surprise. But he wasn’t going to use his mouth on it like he had done with him. He started stroking slowly and languorously, and he heard George moan softly. He felt it become hard under his touch. His own manhood started itching and twitching, but he tried to ignore it as he kept focusing on George.

He was overwhelmed by an all new sensation, which felt weird, but not really in a bad way. He had George in the palm of his hand. He didn’t do anything like he had last time. All he could do right now was moan and writhe under him. It’s funny how a situation could reverse so easily. He realised he actually liked that surge of power. The game was going to be much more interesting than what he had thought.

He started stroking himself with his free hand and it made him moan softly in George’s neck. Said male was moving his hips forward kind of desperately, eagerly, and it made Karl smile.

His movement on George became even slower, causing George to groan in frustration and displeasure, and Karl’s smile only grew bigger at his reaction.

He removed his hand suddenly after a few more instants only to grab it again and squeezed it slightly, making George twitch. He removed his hand again and his other hand from himself as he was as hard and impatient as George. He had George lie on his back, without letting him the time to counterattack, and put his hands on his buttocks. It was soft and round.He had to find his shit hole, and it didn’t take him that long. He spread the cheeks and as the curious youth he was, he inserted one finger in it but quickly withdrew it and replaced it with something bigger. It looked as if his member already knew the way there, and just wanted to get in. It was again another kind of sensation that overwhelmed him as a part of his member was now inside him. No, it was similar to the one he felt just a few moments ago, but much more intense.

He remained still for a few seconds before he pushed himself deeper in him, causing George to moan again. He just had to push and pull without completely withdrawing his member, there was nothing complicated in this. He just had to imitate George. He started moving back and forth slowly, but then after a while it seemed that his body moved all on his own; it went faster and faster as if it were only natural for it. He leant forward mechanically and started kissing George’s neck again as the rest of his body kept thrusting vigorously. The more aggressive he was the louder George was. He could feel him wrap his legs around his back.

He felt like he wasn’t himself anymore. His mind went blank as he was entirely consumed by pleasure and desire. He totally lost track of time and space.

At some point, he felt he was close, so close…

George moaned particularly loudly, and that’s all it took for Karl to get his release. His movements gradually slowed down and he could only hear himself breathe heavily for the time being. He came to a standstill, but didn’t exit him immediately. He waited for his brain to get back, but it seemed that it just didn’t want to.

As soon as he pulled out he collapsed on George, his exhaustion much stronger than his own will. He could hear George’s heavy breathing too. He was too tired to try to move. He was feeling dizzy.

George seemed to be too tired to move too.

“Damn…that was good,” he heard George whisper after a while, his voice slightly hoarse and exhaustion obvious in it.

Karl was too tired to even think about his words.

“You’re such a dark horse,” he added a few moments later. There was a hint of mischief as he spoke this time, or something similar to it.

Karl just felt like sleeping after making so much effort. It was almost worse than working at the farm. No, maybe he was exaggerating a bit too much, he wasn’t sure…

“I like that,” George spoke again, still in the same kind of tone, as he traced the nape of his neck with his index finger.

He felt George bring his face closer to his, and he kissed him. He didn’t even have the energy to kiss back but hardly to smile. He had had a good thought to go and ask Paul for some advice.

He just fell asleep without even realising it.

Hello my dear readers!  
I wish you all a merry Christmas 🎅☃️🎄
Take care of yourselves and your loved ones ❤️ 
xoxo