Viking Slaves Novels & Stories

“Eli asked me about the history today because he noticed you and Jax never talk. I told him I’d only heard one side. So I’m asking you directly. Is that all it was?” For a moment Marcus looked past him toward the emptying ice. Then he spoke, still without heat. “Jax sabotaged the scholarship though not with a big public move but quietly. Conversations with the wrong people. Timing that left me looking unreliable when the committee was watching. I lost the offer, while he kept his path open.” The words landed heavier because of how steadily he said them. Ethan studied his face. “You’re sure that’s what happened?” “I lived it,” Marcus replied. “You can decide whether you believe me or not. But

“The people he took. The ones from across the sea. What happened to them?" "Some were sold. Some were used." Varys paused. "He kept certain ones. The ones with the right blood." Saeris's hands curled into fists. "Why?" "He's—" Varys hesitated, like he was trying to figure out how much to say. "He’s building something. Don't know what. But the slaves weren't just for labor. He was looking for specific people. Specific bloodlines. Old ones. Neutral territories. People who could trace their line back before the courts." His eyes stayed on her. "People like you, I'd imagine."

Actually, the business has been slow lately, the most customer only searching for male slaves, as there's a rumor of wars looming on the west side of Hallerus, everyone was searching for a fighting force to protect themselves, leaving her with an abundance of female slaves In her stocks, seeing someone willing to buy some of her stocks, although the price was a bit low, she actually managed to profit at least 1 gold coins per slave. Finally, Candice comes in with the contract, Madam Hive immediately writes the contract herself. After a few minutes, she finishes the contract and asks Elijah to Sign the contract, instead of Elijah handover the contract to me, I signed the contract and place 90

"Talk to me, Eliyah. It will help you ease your pain. And maybe I'll understand you better too." He released a breath. "You want to listen to my story? A slave's? Won't that be a huge waste of time?" "Let me be the judge of that." I smiled. "I'm actually from the Slave Island." What the hell? Slave Island? He must have seen the confusion is on my face. "It's one of the islands of Ovzdusia. There, the slaves are bred. They stay with their birth-givers till they are five and then they are taken away from their 'homes'."

The tight puckered hole showed no signs of assault, and Vachiari could count on his experience to safely say that the captured male still had a virgin ass. Not for long, the middle-aged man mused and stopped his ministrations. The slave was now writhing against his restraints, and the muffled sounds that could be heard, despite the mouth gag, were a clear indication that the young man was not happy with being handled. Vachiari took a step back and asked his assistants to turn the slave so he could take a good look at his front, too. The longish, raven strands, the deep, charcoal-like eyes, and dark skin made him exotic. Slaves born and raised to please had their benefits, but a beautiful spe

“You know, just because you work here, you don’t have to get up at some ungodly hour and start work five hours early.” “Oh, I didn’t. It was four hours early.” The twins snorted and Cain smiled behind his coffee cup. Viking blinked. “OK,” Viking said. “But still…you do know that you don’t have to do this. Right? You can sleep in and relax and hang out and drink coffee before your shift starts. You’re not –” He broke off, suddenly realizing that saying something like ‘you’re not a slave anymore’ or ‘you’re not in a sex cult anymore’ probably wasn’t the most tactful way to get his point across. Thankfully, she seemed to know what he meant and she didn’t take offense.

"Thank you, but I can walk on my own." Seeing that bitch, Brenda, turn down potential suitors one after the other made my blood boil. Those werewolves were also participating in the special training, and they were all of noble birth. Some of them were even next in line to become their pack's Alpha. How could such high-class werewolves lower themselves to flirt with a slave? It was disgraceful to see. But what pissed me off the most was that all of them had gotten turned down. That bitch was just a slave. How dare she refuse a future Alpha? It was ridiculous.

He'd learned from a young age that the faster he could figure out what an alien wanted, the fewer beatings he had to endure. While Norwell and Chasm stood in the aisle waiting for directions, Varnas cackled in delight. Their old master laughed like he'd gotten one over on a Dagerstanteen. And maybe he did. Varnas would've paid three sotons to kill them, but instead, he'd made six. Everyone here knew that the fuel wasn't expensive or rare. Varnas grinned at Rhylent as he began to float toward his tent. "Good luck. These are very docile and hardworking slaves." After his lie, Varnas flipped his fabric door to the side.

“I’m not saying I won’t get angry, Cazz. I’m not saying I won’t be scared. I’m not saying I won’t ask you to stop. I’m saying, I’ll stay. As long as you’ll have me—and only me—I’ll stay. The only one who’s going to walk away… is you.” His eyes darted back and forth, searching mine, his brow furrowed. He was sweating and so tense I worried his body was going to lock up. But he just stood there, gaping at me like he couldn’t quite believe any of it. So I reached for his face again, sliding my hands behind his neck and lacing my fingers there. “I’m your slave, Cazz,” I said with a wobbly smile. “Not because you made me do it. I chose that. And I’m going to keep choosing it. Every day. No matter

Turning her into a dark and vengeful soul. Vargr had so much to answer for. He used and abused his pack for decades, making omegas, hybrids, and human's slaves. Putting them into the mines to dig up his greed while they got nothing but scraps of leftover scraps. There were hundreds of pack members enslaved below the surface, forced to work down there and not see the light of day, for days, starving.