The ninth century was a time of uncertainty for many people that had settled on the East coast of Britannia. There seemed to be nowhere to hide from the recent raids that saw villages destroyed, men killed, women raped, and for no apparent reason other than greed and wealth. Monasteries were laid bare and monks watched helplessly as the horned invaders made off with their riches.

It was written, that the longships would power themselves out of the mist and onto the beaches, hit towns and villages without any compassion for the peasants. Men would rush ashore striking all those that got in their way. Villages were plundered and women, taken away, to God knows where.

An Anglo Saxon cleric once wrote that during the Lindisfarne raid, the church was splattered with the blood of priests, treasures were smashed, gold and silver hoarded and people were mercilessly killed in front of their children. What befell the women was a fate far worse than death. Or so it was told.

As time progressed, raids became more frequent, often involving more longships and more men. They had certainly become more organized and more desperate for new lands to rule.

Beci had heard so many tales; most of which horrified her and left her cold. Some excited her.

At nineteen Beci was impressionable. She had done a lot of strange things since she matured, since her breasts got bigger and golden red hair grew between her thighs; her sex would often ache and throb until she found ways to take care of it. If nothing else, Beci was inventive when it came to pleasuring herself.

But, Beci seemed to be wired differently. Most women of her age were already betrothed; some even had children or were heavily pregnant with their second. She seemed to have avoided that. Perhaps it was the status of her father as one of the elders; needless to say, Beci could have done with a quick fuck from time to time. She often looked at her friends with more than a slight hint of jealousy. Emotions of want and need spread through her body; often at night. Men were interested in her, of course they were, but that wasn’t what interested Beci. No, Beci’s thoughts were much darker, more devilish than anyone else could think up; thoughts that had to be hidden from sight. Her thoughts!

Beci would visit the central roundhouse of their village every day to hear the stories from wanderers or the survivors fleeing the Vikings, referring to them as the Dani.

The tales of woe and pillage uninterested Beci, but she stayed to listen nevertheless. She would often leave those sessions with a sense of dread in her heart. The Dani were getting closer and closer to her village and preparations were being made to move everyone Northwards, not that that would have made any difference, she thought.

But it was the other stories those wanderers told that interested Beci more.

One evening, a horse wandered into their enclave, its rider slumped over the reins, dazed and only just alive. His hair matted in blood, big gashes on his arms oozed blood despite the tourniquet he had wrapped about them. Yet he was alive. His wounds were tended and he survived to tell his tale.

A few nights later, when the wanderer had regained enough strength, he sat in the roundhouse to recount the events of a raid on his village. It was one of dread, with death waiting around every corner.

“And then, I saw the woman, faced with three of the Dani, two of them holding her by the arms and the third – ”

He stopped and looked at the floor, shook his head and then raised it to look into the eyes of all the people in the room. Beci was stood at the back, pulling up at her skirt and balling it into a tight bun in front of her. Her lips quivered.

Yes, thought Beci, what was the third Dani doing.

“- The third pulled at her garment, ripping it and separating it from her body. She was helpless. They marched her into a hut and that was when I ran for my very life. And then –”

His story continued but Beci let out a slow and not too silent moan at the word helpless. She thrust the hard knob of the dress she had been gathering into her groin and started to rub it into the wetness that was gathering there.

The wanderer shook his head once more. He made eye contact with an elder sitting cross-legged in front of him and related more of his story.

Beci had made up her own version of the story. She was no longer listening. Her eyes turned to the ceiling. She shouldn’t have been thinking in that way. She should have been horrified, distraught, overcome with grief.

They fucked her, Beci finished the sentence for him. All three of them fucked her.

Beci rushed from the roundhouse via an entrance near the back. She could listen to no more of the wanderer’s tales. She headed back to her own hut and located the cucumber from her store of items that weren’t really used for food, and within minutes Beci experienced the biggest self-induced climax of her life. She actually sobbed as her orgasm swept through her.

Beci was still sobbing when her father, Rufus, called out to her. She quickly hid the tool that she used to pleasure herself and beckoned him in. He immediately comforted her, reassuring her that it was not going to happen to this village. Beci nodded and smiled at her father. Reassured by his words, and disappointed by his confidence.

It was only four days later. A good proportion of the village had already left for lands further North. Horse pulled carts were leaving as the mist clung savagely to the land and the people took what little belongings they could muster.

“Dani! – Dani!”

A shrill cry pierced the air.

“The Vikings are coming! The Vikings are coming!”

More shrill voices rang out the warning as people rushed and scattered. Men took up their arms but what use were they against a hoard of trained marauders. Women and children ran for whatever safety they thought they would get from the surrounding huts and roundhouses. It was futile.

Fighting in the village was relentless and it was carnage by the time the Vikings got to the top of the hill. Many huts were already burning forcing their occupants out and into the arms of the waiting Dani.

There was no mercy.

Three men came across an elder on their way up a hill and made short work of him. He was no fighter and not trained in the art of swordsmanship or the art of killing. What use were words against such men? Reasoning was unheard of.

Three angry horned men made their way to the door of Beci’s hut and stopped dead in their tracks as the soft fur covering was flung open. They took their time to look at each other in disbelief and then back to the figure that adorned the entrance to the hut. It was surely a trap.

Beci stood naked in front of them, hands on her voluptuous hips and her breasts heaving as she took in lungfuls of air. Her red hair fell loose about her shoulders. She looked at the three men and started to retreat back inside; inviting them with each careful and deliberate step. She held the covering up so that they could feast on her body. Her red hair glinted from a momentary shaft of light that found its way between the clouds and through the mist. The Dani followed her inside, careful at first in case they would be ambushed, but seeing that no one was present they lowered their weapons.

They were not the weapons Beci was interested in anyway. She kept moving back towards the makeshift bed full of furs. One of the men had only just relieved himself of his breeches by the time Beci had reclined her body onto the bed and spread her legs wide. She cupped her ample breast invitingly.

Beci was panting hard as he walked towards her. For a man that had only just killed someone, his cock was quick to respond to its current situation. He practically fell on her. His cock penetrated her depths as she wrapped her legs around his torso.

Beci panted, moaned and groaned beneath him. Her words of lust lost to his Scandinavian ears. He plundered her, but he was not the only active person on the bed. Beci gave as good as she got; encouraging, enticing and forcing her Dani to shipwreck between her thighs.

Beci shook her head from side to side as her climax took hold. Her Dani released his seed into her with a sudden groan as something foreign emanated from his mouth. He kept still for a while before he was suddenly pulled away from her and thrust to one side of the room.

Beci glared lustfully into the eyes of the remaining men that stood before her; their cocks firm and erect and actively being stroked. The second one dropped to his knees and Beci needlessly expended the words fuck me hard in his direction. She needn’t have said anything; that very intention was written all over his face as he pushed his cock into her wet and waiting cunt. He pounded her for what seemed like thirty seconds before he unloaded the contents of his balls. He pulled out quickly and spilled the remnants over her golden red pubic hair. Beci had hardly got going and looked longingly and expectantly to the third guy that stood behind him.

The third guy watched her for a brief moment; stroking his cock in the process and looking deep into Beci’s eyes.

“Sven,” he said pointing to himself.

Beci nodded. After a while, she made the connection and returned his gesture.

“Beci,” she said, letting her hand wander over her pussy lips, and with palm down, she rubbed her sex as she had done on so many of those lonely evenings. Her lips curled up at the edges as her lust and wanton behavior painted its picture across her face.

Sven knelt before her and was about to penetrate her when he stopped. He waddled over her body and pressed his cock to her lips.

This was new, thought Beci, but she opened her mouth and took his member inside her. She noticed that his hair was golden red, just like hers. Beci was encouraged to suck on the end of his cock and by the time he had pulled it from her lips and buried it where she wanted it to be buried; two more men had entered the hut.

Word had gotten around. Quickly it seemed.

Sven took his time and while her orgasm was not as intense as her first, Beci’s second warmed through her body. She felt thrilled to be taken in this way, yet Sven had not finished. He locked his arms out either side of her head and started to fuck Beci with slow responsive thrusts, pausing when his cock was deep inside her; all the while looking into her eyes.

Beci immediately felt the difference. The desire, the need in both of them was all-encompassing; she saw lust and something else in Sven’s eyes. Longing? Need? Her hand rounded on his buttocks and Beci started to respond to his movements with only one leg wrapped about his torso.

Beci and Sven fucked each other. Slowly.

Beci’s third climax started to build. The slow deliberate fucking motion felt exquisite. Beci raised her lower body to meet Sven’s thrusts and before she knew it her eyelids were closed, her body was rocking involuntarily and her orgasm was upon her. She didn’t expect it to happen so fast and she certainly didn’t expect his hand to grasp the back of her neck, raise her head, and kiss her full on the lips as she came. Sven’s pending orgasm finally took control of his body as he released his creamy fluid into her; panting his climax into her mouth.

The Vikings are certainly fucking cumming, thought Beci.

Sven pulled up from her and started to shout at the two men standing with their cocks out; pointing at Beci and himself intermittently. Whatever he was saying – they were having none of it and Sven was left looking on as one of the pair maneuvered Beci onto all fours. Beci once more felt the pleasure of being penetrated by a thick cock. She considered his actions more frantic than those of Sven, yet his movements were certainly bringing her off nicely. Beci started to push her bottom backward onto his cock as she enjoyed the feeling of being fucked in this way. Her concentration failed her when she felt a cock brush against her lips. Beci took no time in allowing it inside.

Beci’s mind was blown apart as she was fucked by two men. It was the closest she had ever felt to heaven. It would turn out to be a very short-lived experience. The Dani in her mouth lost his composure almost immediately and suddenly exploded; spraying his seed all over her beautiful face. It was her first taste of cum, Viking cum.

Beci loved it and brought her face back to his cock to suck the remaining spunk from it; her fourth orgasm built once more with the relentless fucking from the Dani behind her.  She had only just converted her orgasm when he pulled out of her.

Beci was left panting and clenching her pussy when a distant horn was sounded. It was followed by two more sounds of a similar nature.

Sven stood in the doorway and looked down at Beci; still panting and with semen leaking from her cunt. Filled, she certainly had been. Taken, she had been. Did she enjoy it? Fuck yes, she thought to herself.

Sven threw her a red tunic to cover her body and jerked his head to indicate that she should put it on and follow him. Beci had just about placed it over her head when the horn sounded once more. Sven grabbed her wrist and yanked her from the hut.

Halfway down the hill he picked her up and swung her over his shoulder, making for a faster headway towards the longships strewn along the beach.

Beci’s father recognized the red tunic as it slowly receded further and further away from him. He noticed a young woman being carried out to one of the longships by the Dani. Two young boys helped him stand up; his stomach wound leaking into his tunic; a wound that his pressing hand was hopeless to stem the flow from. His world faded before his eyes. He felt uncomfortable, weak, dying.

“Beciii…” Her father cried from the hilltop as loud as he could as she was bundled into the longship along with a few of the men that had taken her moments earlier.

With eyes wide open, Beci heard his voice and turned to look back towards the shore.

“Father –” she whispered.

She would miss him deeply. She had to be her own rock now. She was Beci of the Brittani and one day they would know that.

A few burly men pushed the boat out to sea before jumping aboard. Oars slipped into the water and before she knew it, the craft was pointing out to sea. Sails raised, Beci and the Dani slowly disappeared into the mist that still clung onto the Northumbrian coast for dear life.

Her father never saw the growing smile on her face; or the musclebound Sven holding her firm to his body.