Peander was fast asleep. In fact, he was in a slumber, deeper than any doze he had enjoyed his whole young Greek life. This was that sleep that comes only to the well fed, the well drunk and the well fucked; and he was all three. Laying flat on a large bearskin rug in Freya's tent, his face was frozen into a wide-toothed grin. His neck, chest and back were covered in scratch marks and bites from the most erotic night of his life; his whole body transformed into one giant red hicky. His lips and face were thoroughly glazed by the gallons of Valkyrie honey he had coaxed out of so many luscious pussies. It had been one hell of a night. Amazingly, despite enjoying and pleasuring Freya and all of the Valkyries all night, he was still astonishingly hard.
Freya, Brunhilde, and the other Valkyries slept beside him in a great pile, long smooth limbs stretched lazily in all directions. Brunhilde's left foot draped over Peander's forehead while Freya nestled her nose against his left inner thigh. It was a great tangle of gorgeous, naked Nordic beauty in a giant pretzel made of alluring Valkyrie flesh. Their snores, added to Peander's, gently rocked the tent. One Valkyrie was awake, though, and leaning against the center tent pole. It was Mist, and she studied Peander's face carefully.
Brunhilde woke up first from beneath the pile of dozing beauties; and after crawling out from under the jiggling mass of tits and asses, she stretched and yawned as she sat up. Spying Mist staring at Peander in the corner, she laughed and said, "Don't you ever sleep? Didn't this Greek boy wear your ass out last night?"
"Yeah, he did," Mist said, "I just couldn't sleep, that's all."
"Well, I don't know about you, but, there is nothing like having my muff munched properly to knock my ass out. I slept like the dead after enjoying our friend over there." Grinning as she gazed over at Peander, she added, "I will say, that boy puts these pathetic Viking limp-dicks to shame. If only we could bottle him and pass him around to our less enlightened boys. Oh well...," she said with a sigh. "So..., what in the hell have you been doing while the rest of us were asleep?"
"Just thinking..."
"Ay! Not that again," Brunhilde cried as she stood up and scratched her gorgeous ass. She sauntered over to a wooden keg on a nearby table and tapped it, filling her great drinking horn to the brim. After she took a long swig, she turned back to Mist, and said, "You know what your problem is, Mist. You think too fucking much!"
"Perhaps you think too little, Brunhilde!" Mist snapped back.
"Ha!" Brunhilde snapped as she smiled. After leaning down and lifting her sword from the ground, she held it out straight before her and pointed at Peander. "I let this do my thinking for me, bitch. Cold hard steel will win every argument with these chatty Greek philosophers every day. They are masters of their tongues, but, sadly, they also never shut. Greek tongues are both good..., and bad."
"But, don't you wish for more, Brunhilde?" Mist said. "I mean, you saw the palace of the Graces we raided. It was astonishing! All that beautiful marble and exquisite art, and those gowns of silk. It is shocking to think those Goddesses live that way! We are Goddesses after all. Our home should be a palace like theirs."
"That dump?" Brunhilde barked as she refilled her horn with beer and blew the foam off of the rim. "It is way too sissified for me, girl. I prefer something a bit more..., rustic..., and real, you know? Give me the musky allure of a leather tent and the indescribable pleasures of sleeping naked on a bearskin bed over waking up in that kitschy marble monstrosity any day." Laughing, she pushed her tits out and said, "Plus, I would go batshit having to wear silk over these gorgeous curves!"
Brunhilde laughed and threw her head back as she chugged her beer down in one gulp. As she guzzled, rich golden ale dribbled down her chin and onto her exposed breasts. She grinned when she wiped the excess off of her nipple and sucked the foam from her fingers. Waving her tits back and forth, she said, "Plus, these babies are either covered by steel, or nothing at all! Silk would never hold them."
"I don't know, Brunhilde," Mist said. "Maybe we need to..., you know..., expand our horizons a bit. I mean, it was not just the beauty of the palace and the gowns that got me thinking. Did you see their library? The stacks of scrolls they had in there went on for miles! And all that wine in their cellar, have you ever seen such a sight? I took a sip of one of their amphorae, and I will tell you, I have never tasted anything so fantastic in my—"
After letting out a giant belch, Brunhilde refilled her horn, and said, "—Are you fucking going soft on me, Mist? Now you want to start reading books? And drinking wine even? Holy fuck! That Greek must of sucked more than honey out of your cunt. I think he must of lapped away your sacred fire with that talented tongue of his!" She shook her head, and added, "Let me tell you something. There is nothing I have ever seen written down that has been worth knowing, and as for wine..." she continued as she downed her beer, "it tastes like fruity piss compared to the pure hoppy goodness of beer! I have to admit; but you are proving Freya was right!"
"Freya was right? Freya was right about what?" Mist said.
"She said bringing this Greek back here might start corrupting the girls. We all got off on his tongue, and that beautiful cock of his, but it is obvious. He is dangerous."
"Dangerous?"
"Yeah, this is how it all starts," Brunhilde said. "First all the Valkyries are going to want to start wearing silken gowns, and then they will want to start wearing jewelry, forsaking their breastplates of steel and iron for necklaces of pearls and rubies. And next, of course, everyone will start reading BOOKS. No more noble tales of valiant deeds told around the campfire, the blood of our enemies still caked in our hair as we regale each other of our battles of the day. No! It will be philosophy and poetry and all that pansy-ass bullshit! Then our people will crave peace rather than war, and we will end up just like those weak, butt-fucking Greeks! The brutal, yet noble values of Asgard replaced by the perfumed and faggoty values of Olympus!"
"You are talking shit, Brunhilde!" Mist cried. "I am not saying that, but, these Greeks have much to teach us." Raising her eyebrow, she added, "After all, I heard your cries of bliss when Peander lapped away at your moldy cunt! There have been none of our Norsemen that had your toes curling like that!"
"Ha! That is fucking true," Brunhilde said as she walked over to Peander. Standing over him, she took the dull edge of her blade and lifted up his balls. "These Greeks may be talented in lovemaking, I will grant you that, but, we have to be careful." Playfully bouncing his balls on her blade, she added, "It's a good thing it won't be a problem for much longer. I enjoyed him while I could, but, Freya was right. He has got to go."
"What?" Mist said. "What are you talking about? What do you mean he has to go?"
Brunhilde and Mist turned as Freya crawled out from beneath the pile of naked, snoozing Valkyries, and said, "He has to go, Mist. Brunhilde, although a bit indelicate as usual, is right. This Greek stud is too alluring. We cannot allow ourselves to go soft." Winking, she added, "But, I have decided to perhaps let one of us take another spin on his lips, or cock, before he is dispatched."
"Dispatched?"
"Yeah, killed," Brunhilde said. "You know, killed? You are familiar with the concept I hope, or has this Greek boy already pickled your mind."
"But, Freya," Mist cried, "You can't have him killed. It..., it is not right! He has served us so well."
"Yes...," Freya sighed as she joined Brunhilde in standing over Peander. "It is a pity, but, I can really see no other way." She lifted her bare foot to his sleeping lips, and Peander, still sleeping blissfully, kissed her toe and smiled. "He will be missed, but..., it is clear. He will make us soft."
"Well," Brunhilde said as she lifted ran the tip of her blade softly over Peander's ballsack, the tickling sensation causing a giggle to escape his lips. "Let's get it over with. I call dibs on his balls, I already have plans to turn them into a lovely coin purse!" As she lifted her sword into the air, Mist screamed.
"Wait! Wait! You are not thinking right about this! I have a better idea."
"Hold it, Brunhilde," Freya said as she held up her hand. "Let's hear what our lovely neophyte has to say. After all, she does have some good ideas sometimes."
"That's right, new ideas too," Mist cried, her face dripping with sweat as her mind roiled. Glancing down at Peander, still sleeping, her stomach fell. He looked so happy, so blissfully unware that death lurked right above his head.
Brunhilde said, "Well, Mist? What is this better idea, hmmm?" Swishing her sword in the air, she added, "my steel growls in hunger for fresh blood, so make it quick."
Mist turned to Freya, and said, "You know that booty, once taken, should never be wasted. This would be an offense and, would dishonor our sacred Pillage traditions and we stole this boy from the Graces fair and square. To just kill him would be foolish. He is obviously chattel of great worth. After all, who steals a cow and then slaughters it on the first day? All that does is throw wealth away!"
Freya nodded, and winked over at Brunhilde. She said, "The girl has a point, you know."
Brunhilde said, "That's her pussy talking! She just wants to keep him around to service her honey cave."