Ægir's Wife Ch. 09

She waited for the cursing and accusations that always followed those startled whelps of pain. But none came this time. If anything, she would have sworn it was laughter she heard from behind the closed door at the end of the hall.

Of course, once they had taken to sea and Monika was safely in the care of her father, exploring the ship, Kirsty had tapped gently on the door. She had begun with reassurances that they would not allow the abuse to continue. Though Georgia was not certain how they could possibly keep such promises once she returned to London in a couple of months.

She swallowed back the dark cloud of fear that she had lived with for as long as she could remember. As much as she needed this time away to come up with some plan, beyond suicide, that might offer her and her mother a way out, she very much feared it would only fuel her father's rage and abuse.

Yes, she was almost certain that was laughter coming from the end of hall. She felt her skin heat with a blush as she remembered what else Kirsty had come there to tell her. If three husbands were not enough of a shock, then BDSM, especially the masochism part was.

For someone that had lived with pain for so long the very idea that other people might like it, find pleasure in it, was mind numbing. Sure, she had heard about that book, who hadn't? But to realize that she actually knew people like that was astounding.

She still was not certain what to think. But she knew that Kirsty and Bjorn were good people. That they loved that little girl and one another. And now she owed them so much...all of them. So, for now, she had decided to simply suspended judgment and practice the tolerance that she believed was so important.

Yes, it was most definitely laughter. She sighed with relief and tried to get back to sleep. But after tossing and turning for several moments, she gave up and climbed from the bunk. She found her jeans and put them on.

She considered adding the bra, but honestly it hurt the bruises across her back and shoulders from Papa's belt buckle. Besides it was not like her tiny A-cups really needed such things. She even forswore her trainers. The cold, rough wooden deck would feel good against her bare feet.

With a final glance to make certain her charge with sleeping soundly, she snuck from the tiny cabin and pulled the door closed securely. Monika had not yet mastered opening them even if she should awaken unexpectedly. Besides she would not be gone more than a few moments. Just a breath of fresh air to clear her mind and help her sleep.

She inhaled deeply, drawing the brisk, musky ocean breeze not just into her lungs, but to the depths of her soul. Or she tried to anyway. She desperately needed something to cleanse away the dark foreboding that had lived there for so long.

If this was to be that new beginning she had sought for so long, then she knew she must begin there. As Roz had told her, she must find some way of changing how she saw herself and the world. Otherwise like so many others she might fall into the cycle of violence and abuse. That was not the future she wanted.

She clasped the railing and lifted her face to the sky as the breeze caressed her face, whipping her hair that was loose for a change about it. She felt the sting of the salty sea spray mixing with its twin as her tears slid down her cheeks.

She was free. For the first time in her life, she was honestly free of the spectre of domestic violence that had colored her world. While it might only be a temporary respite, it was her chance. Perhaps her only one to come up with a plan that might offer true hope of a better future.

Once more she considered the offer that Roz had made as they played in the park with Monika. She had a huge house all to herself since her husband had left. The woman had offered her a room there completely rent free. She could use the company she said.

But two things bothered her about that plan. First was the fact that it would be easy for her father to follow her from university back to the house. She might inadvertently put her new friend in danger. It was something that had initially bothered her about her job with Kirsty and Bjorn. Except that the man had looked like he could more than defend himself and his family if her Papa did cause any trouble.

So, she had taken the calculated risk in order to save up money for their eventual escape. Except it had not worked out that way. Instead of saving the money she had given her, Mama had merely passed it along to her Papa, inevitably fuelling more drunken rages.

While Roz was no shrinking violet like her mother, she would hardly stand a fair chance against a man the size of Papa, especially if alcohol were involved. No, she could not take that risk. Not without telling the woman, who had extended her a hand of friendship, the whole truth. And that was something she had never done. Not even that morning with the doctor, Kirsty's father.

She swallowed back the fear, guilt, and self-loathing that those thoughts always brought. She forced her mind away from that dark, dark path. She knew that one day she would have to deal with it. But not now. Not until she had come up with a plan to end the pain. Not until she was safe. As safe as damaged goods like her ever could be anyway.

That was the other thing that bothered. Her unexpected reaction to the woman. Of course, she knew about lesbians. Though she might have been born and even raised in a traditional culture that frowned upon such things, she had lived and been educated in a liberal, cosmopolitan area. She had even had a friend in secondary school who had come out as gay.

Well, he had been her friend until Papa found out. She might have found some way of hiding their friendship even after Papa 'disciplined' her for it, except for his threat. 'Bad things happen to people like that. You stay away from him.' After that she did not dare endanger anyone else.

But accepting homosexuality as a natural part of life and the odd feelings she got from the other woman's casual hugs and caresses were two different things. She was almost certain the woman meant nothing by them. After all she had seen her hug Kirsty every time they were together...and squeeze her hand as a show of support too.

The woman was from another culture. Perhaps such things were just common with her Afro-Caribbean culture. It was not though to her. Georgia could not remember a single embrace from her own mother, though she had at times taken to hugging her instead. And other touches did not bear thinking about...she shivered and it had nothing to do with the cooling night air.

"Here. Take my coat," said a deep, masculine and heavily accented voice.

Georgia turned to stare up into the handsome face of the young man that she had seen earlier when they came on board the ship. He rivalled Bjorn in both size and sheer masculine beauty. Though he was not as old, closer to her age she would guess. The guy was pretty noticeable...at least if you were a female.

She frowned, since when had she ever noticed a man? Any man? Oh, she had had offers, but not once had she ever been tempted. This one though...was doing things to her. He had from that first furtive glance they had shared as she came on board that afternoon.

Now she was wishing she had endured the pain of her constrictive bra as her nipples strained against the thin material of her t-shirt. His quick intake of breath as his fingers casually brushed hers when he passed her the much too large fleece jumper told her that he too was aware of this thing.

Her throat tightened as he took a step closer to her. He towered over her, though at barely more than five feet, most men did. She bit her lower lip until she tasted the coopery flavor of blood where she had reopened the wound on it.

He drew something from his back pocket and began to dab at it, "Stakkelse lille."

It took Georgia a moment to realize that it was a clean handkerchief. Who even knew such things existed anymore? Let alone delicately embroidered ones like this. It was so out of keeping with the man's size and rough work. Yet oddly comforting...and intensely frightening at the same time.

The knot in her throat doubled in size. Her heart pounded in her own ears so loudly that it drowned out even the waves crashing against the boat. She could not breathe. She honestly could not.

She knew the feeling well it was that same panic that came just before her Papa's blows began to fall. That moment of utter terror before she could disconnect and make her way to her happy place by the babbling brook that she had created in her mind.

This time was different though. This was not Papa. She was not trapped, powerless and helpless. She had choices. As her psychology course had taught...fight or flight. This time with this man she had that power.

"Excuse me. I have to go," she said even as she drew away and made a run for the safety of the cabin she shared with Monika. Of course, he would not follow her. If he did, both Bjorn and this Mikael that Kirsty had explained was one of her other husbands were just down the hall. But something told her this man was not like that. Not like Papa...or his friends.

She did not remember the brief journey to her bunk or even removing her jeans and tossing them on the floor. Yet suddenly she found herself huddled in the corner of her bunk with that crisp hankie pressed to her lips.

It smelled of the sea...and him. It was not an unpleasant sensation. Neither were the tingles that raced from her brain to the nipples that were still tight and too sensitive...then further. There. The place she did not like to think of. Her dirty place.

All of the psychology courses in the world did not seem to help. The more she understood her feelings and why, the more powerless she felt to actually change them.

So why was this happening? How was it that after blocking it all for so long, after the numb and barrenness, after swearing that she was simply asexual...after all that, how was it that in the space of less than two weeks she suddenly found herself sexually attracted not just to a man...but a woman as well?

She shook her head as she pressed the scrap of cloth between her breasts, letting the tears flow as they would...a flood. A tsunami. A lifetime of holding it all in, like a dyke suddenly burst. She fought to keep it as quiet as she could, finally pressing her tiny fist against her swollen lips as she tasted that coopery blood once more...and him on the handkerchief pressed tightly against them.

She still had no answers. No plans. Nothing as she drifted into slumber. But for this one night and a precious few more to come she was safe. That was all that mattered. For the moment.

***

Kurt huddled outside the doorway as he listened to the girl crying. It tore at his inside. Made him feel powerless, helpless, impotent. He stifled a chuckle.

Well, maybe not that one. Not around that tiny slip of femininity. This time he did not bother to hold the chuckle inside. He supposed he could put that worry aside. If nothing else today had proven one thing, despite what his brothers might think, he was no sissy. He most definitely was not gay. Not if the painful erection in his jeans meant anything at all. One look at that one was all it had taken to ally that fear.

Question was...what was he going to do about it? Especially as the girl seemed practically terrified of him. The girl? He tried to remember her name but he did not think Mikael had said. Merely 'my daughter's carer.' But he would find out tomorrow. Along with the rest of her story. He was determined on that.

As determined as he was to prove his brothers wrong. He was meant for the sea. Njord's blood ran in his Norse veins every bit as much as it did in his brothers...or his cousins. He would show them all. Beginning with handling this first night at the helm. He would not let Mikael down...or Sven. He owed them that much. And himself even more.

He shook his head as he heard the hiccups begin. He knew that meant the tears were coming to an end. He should get back to the bridge. He should not have left at all. But when he had seen her staring out across the rails so forlorn he could not resist the urge just to check on her.

Reluctantly he turned back towards the stairs and the deck. He promised himself that he would speak further to Mikael about her on the morrow. Those bruises that he thought he had seen as she came on board were much worse up close.

As the youngest of five brothers, he had worn his share of them until he had begun to shoot up at fifteen. Now he was able to hold his own. Obviously, she had not been...and that bothered him. More than it should perhaps, after all he did not even know the girl.

***

"Damn it, both of you, stop playing around. I want you. Screw that I need you. Both," Kirsty pleaded looking back and forth between her husbands.

Once more Mikael and Bjorn blanketed her, surrounding her in their strong arms, wandering hands and hot kisses as they passed her back and forth between them. She was moaning and rubbing against them as her need grew exponentially with each heartbeat. "Please," she whimpered when they let her up for air.

Bjorn smiled that little boy with a new toy grin as he rubbed his hard cock against her thigh, "Pleasure, my princess?"

Mikael answered with, "Or pain, my sweet slut?" His hand coming down upon her bare ass with a loud smack that sent both racing at the speed of light along nerve endings to her brain that was just wired for it all.

Like she could decide? That choice was like asking her to choose among her three girls...impossible to make.

Her whimper must have been the only answer they needed because when she turned to tell Mikael to go to Helvetia, his eyes were dancing like a bead of mercury on the floor after you had dropped an old-fashioned thermometer. "We know...both. But, brat, on our terms and in our time."

Their depths darkened and she watched his Adam's apple bob up and down his throat. She heard the emotion as Mikael whispered, "You are not the only one that needs, lilla gumman. And what we need right now is not our strong shieldmaiden. There are plenty of battles for her ahead. At our side and not against us."

Bjorn gently turned her head until she was lost in those green meadows, running through those expressive eyes carefree like a little girl in spring, "What we need, sweetheart, is your trust. Your submission."

His voice too cracked, "I know we let that slide so much in that place. And I was wrong. I'm sorry. This is more than games or role play like it is to some others. This is who we are. Doms."

Mikael kissed the side of her face as he drew her back against him, "And you, elskling, are the perfect little sub."

"Perfect for us, our One," Bjorn added as he leaned in to nibble at her other ear.

Kirsty could not find words. Even if she could, she could not have forced them past her lips as tears, happy ones, ran down her cheeks. She cupped theirs heads in her hands and held them both against her for a long moment.

She kissed first Bjorn...the one who had chosen her. The one who had never it seemed had any doubts. He had believed in her. Known that she was what they needed. Had faith in her when she had none in herself. He was the one who had first won her trust when he placed her tablet in her hands, knowing that she could destroy them all.

"I love you," she whispered softly against his warm lips. She drew back to see those green eyes glistening with unshed tears.

But she was not done yet. She turned her head to Mikael. The man before her bore only a fleeting resemblance to the one that she had chosen that first night in hopes of swaying him into helping her to escape. Oh, he had become her biggest ally. But not in escape.

They might credit her with the transformation in this man, with bringing him back to the fold. But she knew the truth...no woman can change a man. He must want to change...for her perhaps. Certainly, she understood the desire to grow, to change, to be more...to become the woman they needed. But in the end, it always came down to changing because it was what you wanted.

And he had...so completely that it virtually stopped her heart. Bitterness had turned to happiness. Betrayal to trust. Anger and resentment to leadership. And insecurity to brotherhood.

As Petrine had taught her...love them all the same and differently. It was a lesson she was just beginning to fully grasp with her daughters. She knew it was wrong to have favorites and she did not, but she knew too that the bond she shared with this man was different than his brothers. "Jeg elsker deg."

And though their circle was not yet complete, a thousand miles and an ocean stood between them. Though she knew that he could not read her thoughts, nonetheless she completed the triumvirate with a silent, 'Æ ælske dæ.'

She used the element of surprise to wiggle and push out from between their hard bodies. She was glad that Mikael had finished the job of undressing her as she fell naked to her knees at their feet. She was certain that her pregnancy made the motion far less fluid and graceful than she would have liked. Sven certainly would have trained his subs better. But she would not have it any other way.

She dropped her head towards her chest as she spread her knees as far apart as she possible could. Her pregnancy precluded her bending forward on the floor and even folding her arms behind her back drew uncomfortably upon muscles and ligaments that were already stretching to accommodate her expanding waistline.

In the end she settled for placing her hands palms up on her knees as a sign of her submission. She was breathless not just from the exertion, but more so from the desire and anticipation coursing through her whole body from toes to the roots of her hair. "Yes, Master. Yes, Sir. Yours to do with as you wish."

She was glad that her head was down because she could not stifle the satisfied grin at the quick intake of breath she heard from them both.

Oh yes, this lifestyle was most definitely misunderstood. Doms were not tyrants with some deep psychotic need for power over another human being. And subs most definitely were not powerless victims.

In some ways, this partnership was the ultimate form of equality. Both needing something and in turn giving back. Facultative symbiosis as scientists would call this relationship that was not absolutely necessary but gave each a greater chance of survival. Or happiness in this case.

It was her turn to benefit with a quick intake of breath as Mikael's hands wove through her hair, tugging firmly until she stared up into those warm silvery depths, "As it should be, brat." They twinkled with mirth as he unbuttoned his jeans and released his hard cock.

Kirsty sighed as she leaned in to kiss the head. Her tongue swirled like a kitten lapping at cream and she was just as satisfied. But Bjorn was not to be denied either, releasing his cock from the confines of too tight jeans. She turned her head and smiled up at him before swallowing half of it.

For several long minutes she took turns contentedly sucking first one then the other. She stifled a girlish giggle at the thought of how hot a porn it would make. Except of course that this intimacy was about love.

She would have been more than content to finish them both off this way. Some odd desire to have them both come over her tits and face. But they were not.

Mikael held out his hand and helped her clumsily rise to her feet. She blushed but it was not necessary as he bent and kissed her. "Beautiful," he whispered causing her blush to deepen.

She did not have the opportunity to protest though. Bjorn quickly distracted her with pain as he pinched her nipples firmly between his fingers, tugging and pulling as if sucking. She was completely powerless to stifle the pleading moans that rumbled from deep in her chest.