Viking Slaves Novels & Stories

“Those people did indeed come to the Black Kiln Sea, but... a sect bought them.” Bought? Andrius’ expression darkened as he asked, “What did that sect buy them for?” The Informant glanced at Andrius fearfully and lowered his head. “Those who are sold to the Black Kiln Sea are either ordinary people who become laborers and are exploited to death, or people with strength who are refined into blood slaves to be controlled. They were most likely refined into blood slaves.” Blood slaves! The moment those words were spoken, Andrius’ blood boiled.

"Aren't you doing the same, I'm the new mistress but you show no respect for me. But yet expected me to talk to you politely, don't you think you are asking too much as slaves" "Since we are slaves then stop trying to feed us lies. You protect us, and provide for our family who abandons us to feed themselves, did you expect us to believe that, and in return, you want our loyalty?” “We give you our loyalty, and we get that, don't you think it is too simple to be true? I was sold by my biological father to pay for his gambling debt, he sold me to an s3x merchant house, and my brother to a mine owner.”

She couldn’t imagine herself a slave to that man, if he looked that as a vampire that means he was over a thousand human years old, he gave her a disgusted look that made her know that he was interested in more than her blood, she wanted to gag. Prince Damien had a smile on his face, Lord Benedict was an old pervert who regularly buys young slaves and ends up killing them with his deranged preferences, it was so bad that any girl he buys does not live up to two weeks in his care, HIS girl will definitely not go with him.

He said deeper and more demanding. “Do it.” Laila urged. Tilting my head back I took the contents of the glass in one hard swallow. “I Alpha Colton Graham of the Twin Wolves pack claim you Amanda Heartly as my slave. I bind you to me with my blood and now you are mine.” He growled.

And then— "Alpha, please!" One of them implored, their voice raw and terrified. "We will obey! Just spare our lady!" Emereah's eyes went blurry. No. No, no, no. "You see, little wolf," Vladimir drawled, stepping toward them, "your people still think you’re worth saving." He stopped in front of one of the male slaves—a warrior once proud, now nothing more than a shadow of himself. Vladimir pulled out his dagger.

I even noticed how one of the girls had rejected the son of one of these men on the top; her files were later handed to the Vikings to collect. I’m not sure what to feel about this; in one way, it was a natural development between two worlds where the needs changed with time. At the same time, it felt wrong, less like years of necessary tradition for our species to survive and more like transporting slaves. Doomed and judged young women with bright futures; they had families around them, parents and siblings that missed them—married and successful. They were ripped out of their world, out of the love and life they had built around them, only to get shipped away like merchandise.

The Coast of Alden, Nine Hundred and Fifty Years Before The new slaves improved, and they resumed with their raids, taking ten more small coastal villages and towns until their ships rode low in the water, the cargo holds overflowing with new treasures and slaves. Gera had selected two young women from the holds to serve as Thaelen’s blood slaves, and Thaelen was amused, as Gera’s selection betrayed his jealous ownership of his vampire as clearly as if he had branded it on the women. Whilst both women were beautiful, they were both very much not of Thaelen’s preference, being long limbed, and lean - lacking the lush curves of the goddess.

A part of Nikolai wished he could chuck the whole thing and go find himself a pretty love slave, instead. Werewolf males who had not yet found their lovers sometimes kept a love slave or two, an ancient practice that still enjoyed a huge popularity on. The term “love slave” was a misnomer. There were no longer any slaves left on their realm, the practice having been abolished centuries before. The term “love slave” still hung on persistently, however, though it was now a time-honored paid profession, well-regulated by the werewolf6 law. The so-called slaves were actually independent contractors, and in fact, the job was extremely popular. There were rarely any shortages of willing males and

“Besides, it would never work. My face is too familiar around the place.” Rowanne volunteered for the task, pointing out that at least she could fight her way out, if necessary. “No offence,” she said to the other women. “Even better,” Iain said. “You speak Danish, don’t you? What could be more fitting than a pair of Norse traders in search of slaves?” “I wish there were some other way,” the former female gladiator said. “Maybe we could pose as a husband and wife in search of servants to take back to the homeland.”

Some of which were also dark-furred wolves, some were lighter-furred but were still at the commoner level. My mother had taught me at a young age that not all dark-furred wolves had the privilege of being able to reside in the commoners. A lot of them had to work as slaves for the higher hierarchy. The higher hierarchies were the noblemen families and the royal families. Most of them used slaves as sexual slaves; satisfying their sick desires and then throwing them away once they were completely used out. Some of them used slaves for gutter work that weren’t assigned to the commoners who worked for them.