CAPTURED BY VIKINGS: MEMOIRS OF A PRISONER (M/M) *CHAPTERS 1-16*
The details of the living quarters is very well done and descriptive. Nice work on that part. I got nothing else to say for this chapter, just nice work again, [mention]bondagefreak[/mention].
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Still a step up from the jail cell I would say. Horrid the treatment of female thralls
I find it funny how he's slowly being brainwashed into viewing Balgruuf as a saviour, sure he did not skewer your head, but he still kidnapped you and made you a slave!!
![Crying or Very Sad :cry:](./images/smilies/icon_cry.gif)
It is indeed a great tale so far, and I like how you are realistic about what life back in those days would be like being in such a position. Rape is taken highly serious these days(as it should be), but back then, they didn't fathom the idea of rape. There was no rape; only an object they could use for their pleasure at any time, regardless of consent. It's horrible to think about, but it was life back then, and its tales like this that remind us of how far we have come in society and how much progress has been made for human rights.
Look forward to the next chapter!
Look forward to the next chapter!
We can only hope that Balgruuf treats Jamis better once the warrior finally returns. Stay strong Jamis!
I agree! I see Stockholm syndrome written all over this. Jamis is seeing Balgruuf as a saviour already, yes he did save him, but he may treat Jamis worse than his current set up as a thrall?Guardianbound wrote: ↑2 years ago Still a step up from the jail cell I would say. Horrid the treatment of female thrallsI find it funny how he's slowly being brainwashed into viewing Balgruuf as a saviour, sure he did not skewer your head, but he still kidnapped you and made you a slave!!
![Surprised :o](./images/smilies/icon_e_surprised.gif)
Also, Balgruuf was careful to say he will decide later if he will keep Jamis...so Jamis could be ditched permanently upon his return.... though I can't believe this because [mention]bondagefreak[/mention] wouldn't be so cruel, and has indicated this is a good story!
Well after seeing that nice feast image, I am going to go for some grub,looked good!
![Laughing :lol:](./images/smilies/icon_lol.gif)
![Laughing :lol:](./images/smilies/icon_lol.gif)
Absolutely well done! The women thralls being raped was one thing I was curious if you would bring up during the first couple of chapters. Personally I’m glad you did, it’s a very tragic thing that happened especially since it was so common back then. Those kind of details are often left out of stories like these or vaguely mentioned. I’m glad you decided to incorporate it into the story.
Jamis has some serious almost Stockholm syndrome towards Balgruuf. I’m really getting invested into this story, can’t wait for the next chapter.
Jamis has some serious almost Stockholm syndrome towards Balgruuf. I’m really getting invested into this story, can’t wait for the next chapter.
Read this update a while ago but needed to take a moment before commenting. I appreciate you not glossing over the... treatment, of the female thralls, horrid as it was to read, it's a fact that shouldn't be ignored and you handled it very tastefully [mention]bondagefreak[/mention].
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I really appreciate the comments, guys. Particularly given the harsh and uneasy nature of this chapter. Readers of BOUND & GAGGED know that I don't shy away from exploring hard-to-tackle matters. Jamis' account, however, is cruder and harsher than other tales I've featured here.
While making this story less digestible to the masses is basically like shooting myself in the foot, I promised myself I wouldn't fill it with the same fluff that romanticises most Viking-themed fiction today. Although the raid featured in the opening scene had for effect of turning off the majority of my regular readers and constrained the audience size, I have no intention of reneging on the promise I made to myself when I first started working on this project. This latest chapter was quite dreary, but for historical believability purposes, I genuinely felt it was necessary. I'm glad you guys understood that and were even pleased to see it included.
On that note, I'm not going to include unnecessarily gruesome details pertaining to violence, rape and casual brutality. While this piece will contain a plethora of unmistakably erotic scenes, it should read more like a biography than a normal fetish story.
[mention]bondagefreak[/mention] I have to say for me, I am totally unfamiliar and ignorant to this era....
So far I really like what I have read, your legendary story telling has gone a long way to keeping me interested in this tale which normally is not my go to. I really appreciate your efforts, and the fact that I can say that I am captivated, to me says a lot. Though it can be harsh, I think your attention to detail and consideration for balance has shone through. I applaud your efforts here and the integrity of your commitment to yourself with this story, this is important. I don't think writing this considering the era is an easy feat, I see a basis for quite the entertaining story here. Just a small thanks here from me![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
![Confused :?](./images/smilies/icon_e_confused.gif)
So far I really like what I have read, your legendary story telling has gone a long way to keeping me interested in this tale which normally is not my go to. I really appreciate your efforts, and the fact that I can say that I am captivated, to me says a lot. Though it can be harsh, I think your attention to detail and consideration for balance has shone through. I applaud your efforts here and the integrity of your commitment to yourself with this story, this is important. I don't think writing this considering the era is an easy feat, I see a basis for quite the entertaining story here. Just a small thanks here from me
![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
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TIME TO GET THIS SHOW BACK ON THE ROAD, GUYS.
HERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER. ENJOY!
HERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER. ENJOY!
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DAY 36
Harpa 16th, A.D 841
CHAPTER 9 - A CHANGE OF PACE
Harpa 16th, A.D 841
CHAPTER 9 - A CHANGE OF PACE
It was on the fifth week of my tenure as a thrall in the Jarl's Longhouse that I cut myself. Cuts and nicks were commonplace, especially among new kitchen thralls, but this one was quite deep and resulted in a nasty gash in my left hand.
Ilda was quite furious when it happened. She cleaned my wound up, bundled my thumb and palm with bandages and grumpily shook her head at the folly of my mishap. The head cook knew we were overworked and she knew I was inexperienced at working with large knives. She scolded me quite severely, but I could tell from her tone that she was doing so more out of concern than out of any genuine anger.
I continued my work in the kitchen that day and tried doing so on the next as well. Ilda, however, grew increasingly aware of how much difficulty I was having and relieved me of my duties before giving me an entirely different set of tasks.
"Normally this is not chore we give to men, but your hand no good and your face pretty enough." she hurriedly explained, pulling me to the side and cleaning my flour-dusted face off with a wet cloth. I didn't initially know what she was talking about or why she was cleaning me up, but it didn't take long for me to realise that I would instead be serving the Longhouse's residents in a more domestic capacity.
Even though it was just a little past midday, Ilda ordered me to bathe and instructed me to shave. I did so, and upon my return was handed a clean undyed tunic and a matching pair of trousers that were much better fitted to my relatively narrow legs. For a moment there, the new clothes and the sudden break from my repetitive routine was almost enough to make me forget I was a slave. Almost enough...
When Ilda explained to me that I would be working as a servant in the banquet hall and helping out with the cleaning of the various sleeping quarters located on the floor above it, I grew increasingly tense.
"Will not the other thralls be jealous?" I asked, fearing that Ailidh and some of the other workers would see my accidental self-inflicted injury as a means of being dismissed and promoted.
"Jealous?" the head cook scoffed. "No, silly boy. They not be jealous." she scoldingly went on, immediately dispelling my concerns and giving me reason to believe that most of my fellow thralls would see this new assignment of mine as a demotion more than anything else. The safety of the kitchen shielded them from having to interact with our overlords, and the vast majority of them found the monotony preferable to basking in the presence of our nordic captors, particularly on those nights when the festive mead hall was filled with groping hands and rowdy warriors.
As it turned out, I rapidly took a liking to my newest assignment, dear friend. The Norsemen may have been unaccustomed to male thralls serving in the capacity that I was, but nobody said anything to that effect. The pressure I felt at being in the midst of the Jarl's family and their guests was quite tremendous, especially on the first days of my new tenure. But the work itself was less gruelling and far less monotonous than that which took place down in the kitchen.
I was still required to eat and sleep with the other thralls, but during the day I was able to keep mostly to myself. My chores consisted of keeping the banquet hall clean, pouring the mead, fetching food and readying the large tables for the somewhat extravagant meals that took place there each night. When I wasn't fetching food, ferrying dishes to and from the kitchen, or tending to my duties in the great mead hall, I was cleaning the sleeping quarters, scrubbing floors, washing linen sheets and getting the beds all tidied up.
One major perk of not slaving away in the kitchen was the ability to work without having someone constantly looking over my shoulder. The duties assigned to me by Ilda were usually reserved for trusted thralls, so supervision was quite lax. Oft were the times when I found myself sitting on the floor of whichever deserted sleeping quarters I was cleaning, only to slump against the bed and allow myself to doze off.
The Jarl and his two daughters - both of whom were quite beautiful and dressed in expensive garb - were wholly disinterested in my presence. The only confirmation I received that I was not completely invisible to my nordic overlords came on the second day, when the Jarl's wife - Lady Sigrid - inquired about me by discreetly asking one of the two servant-women I worked with who I was and when I'd arrived here.
Things were quite uneventful on that first week of my new assignment. It's only on the morning of my eighth day as a domestic thrall that I was briefed about a particularly large banquet we'd be hosting in honour of the Jarl's two sons returning from a bountiful raid.
Much as expected, the two of them emerged into the brazier-lit mead hall that same afternoon. The clamouring of laughter and cheers that punctuated their entry was soon followed by Lady Sigrid and her two daughters joyously making haste across the great hall to greet the returning duo.
The younger one was a big, handsome, strapping fellow that must've been nearing the end of his second decade. His straw-coloured hair reached all the way down to the back of his neck, contrasting quite vividly with the closely-shaved sides of his head. I was busy setting up the banquet tables in preparation for the many guests that would soon be arriving, but the sound of Lady Sigrid's ecstatic greeting immediately alerted me to the fact that the tall warrior's name was Vilkas.
Imagine my surprise when the Jarl's eldest son - an even bigger and broader-shouldered behemoth - proved none other than Hrongar; the same short-haired leviathan who'd spent those three harrowing days on the boat with me six weeks ago!
INTERESTED IN THIS STORY? WANT A FOLLOW-UP CHAPTER?
LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS!
READER COMMENTS WILL BE USED TO GAUGE THE LEVEL OF AUDIENCE INTEREST IN THIS PROJECT.
LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS!
READER COMMENTS WILL BE USED TO GAUGE THE LEVEL OF AUDIENCE INTEREST IN THIS PROJECT.
There we go! I was curious how Balgruuf (or whoever the lover ends up being) would interact with Jamis if he was stuck in the kitchen. This new assignment makes this story so much more interesting. While the Norsemen might not acknowledge the thralls, they do notice them over time and recognize faces. This new element has me all kinds of excited for the next couple chapters.
So getting a new job outside the kitchen is considered a demotion than a promotion. But yet Jamis is not seeing a problem with that. Enjoys his new job more than being in the kitchen. And now two new vikings enter his life, so many for him to fall head over heels for now that his eyes are on the Jarl's son.
Was curious when and how Hrongar would reappear. I suspect Jamis is going to be spending some quality time with the Viking prince very soon! Have to wonder how it will turn out, and how Balgruuf might feel if he finds out!
OHHH! I didn’t even think about that. Having Jamis being fought over by those two Vikings would be quite dramatic. I’m thinking in terms of B&G where the sub (Steven) is claimed by one person and no one would challenge them (Nick). This would be even more interesting since Jamis would have no say in the matter. I’m in even more in love this story.
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Depending on Balgruuf's position I don't think he's supposed to challenge the Jarl's children. Unless it's the more distinguished warrior who has the greater say. It would be quite an interesting match-up.
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That's a fun turn of events! I'm excited to see how this moves forward :3
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i am enjoying how this is building up. great scene setting as well.looking forward to next installment.
Love the tie in from Jamis's journey.
Leaves us wondering what comes next for Jamis and if he gets ordered to serve Hrongar
Feet up popcorn in hand in anticipation
Translation: Great addition to the tale!
Leaves us wondering what comes next for Jamis and if he gets ordered to serve Hrongar
![Laughing :lol:](./images/smilies/icon_lol.gif)
Feet up popcorn in hand in anticipation
![Mr. Green :mrgreen:](./images/smilies/icon_mrgreen.gif)
Translation: Great addition to the tale!
wow, i took a break from the site but wow this story is amazing mate, cant wait for the next chapter
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THANKS A TON FOR THE CONTINUED SUPPORT, EVERYONE!
A SPECIAL WELCOME BACK TO MY GOOD FRIEND [mention]jammer212[/mention]
HERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER, GUYS. ENJOY!
A SPECIAL WELCOME BACK TO MY GOOD FRIEND [mention]jammer212[/mention]
![Cool 8-)](./images/smilies/icon_cool.gif)
HERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER, GUYS. ENJOY!
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DAY 44
Harpa 24th, A.D 841
CHAPTER 10 - PRODIGAL RETURN
Harpa 24th, A.D 841
CHAPTER 10 - PRODIGAL RETURN
As it turns out, Lady Sigrid and Jarl Thorald had never birthed any daughters. The two young women whom I'd mistakenly assumed as being their offspring were in fact the wives of the Jarl's returning sons. The matrimonial nature of those unions was made quite clear when the two unmistakably handsome warriors were greeted not only by their mother but also by their respective wives.
Lady Freya - a delicate woman blessed with unparalleled beauty - immediately made haste toward the youngest of the towering men, while her counterpart - an equally radiant but very pregnant woman at the start of her third decade - shared a moment of tenderness with her own husband, Hrongar. Only by witnessing the exchange did I come to realise that the pregnant lass must've been the jealous Gerda that some of the other men had teased Hrongar about back on the boat. The same Gerda who was said to take great insult should her husband choose to claim me as his bed thrall and concubine.
The feast that took place in the great banquet hall that night was more lavish and extravagant than any of the ones I'd previously seen. Myself and the other servants in charge of pouring the mead and stocking the enormous tables with food were hard-pressed to keep up with the demands of the Jarl's family and the three dozen guests that filled the brazier-lit room.
The men laughed, drank and exchanged outlandish tales of glory and battle. The women cheered as well but seemed more interested in congregating with each other and chatting about day-to-day things than listening to the exaggerated stories spun by their unreasonably burly brothers and husbands.
Even in my frantic rush to serve the food and fetch more wine and ale, I must admit to having scanned the throng of rambunctious guests more than once in the hopes of locating the familiar face that was Balgruuf's.
The trees were green with new leaves, the spring flowers were in full bloom, we were already well into Harpa month and yet there was no sign of his return. Part of me wanted to approach Hrongar and ask him if he knew the whereabouts of his friend. I, however, wisely kept to myself and knew full well that the Jarl's eldest son was not to be approached by a mere thrall, particularly on a night dedicated to celebrating his return.
"You! Servant-boy. Give haste to your feet and bring me more mead!" one of the seated Norsemen commandingly ordered.
I did my best to focus on my tasks and avoid the gazes of those I was serving, but it was difficult not to notice the scornful looks and openly suggestive glances I was subjected to that evening. The oftentimes menacing and transparently lustful expressions of the men whose glasses and mugs I filled up did not escape me, nor was I spared the occasional groping hands and the mocking laughter that predictably ensued as a result of my shocked gasping.
The discomfort and unease I felt did not only stem from the men, dear friend. For even though a number of the feasting warriors left little doubt as to their intentions toward me, a group of women also provoked the flushing of my cheeks by scanning me up and down as I poured more wine and then disputing the attractiveness of my traits even while I was still filling their glasses.
The visible reddening of my cheeks caused many a giggle to escape from their whispering lips. Even more so when one of the fair-haired ladies floated the idea of bringing me to her bed in a ploy to make her husband jealous.
Much to the frustration of the other servants, I was afforded an unexpected respite that evening. I was about to depart from the festive hall in order to fetch more elk meat and honey mead from the kitchen when a tremendously oversized hand suddenly reached out to grab me.
"Milk-drinker!" came the unmistakable sound of Hrongar's booming voice. "Hahaha! Come here, little svein-barn." the unbelievably muscular leviathan cheered, pulling me towards him like some weightless ragdoll and forcing me to sit on his very generous lap.
My face grew red with shame as the colossal brute wrapped his exceedingly burly arms around me and shared the tale of my capture, explaining to his wife, his brother and the other seated warriors closest to us how Balgruuf had spared my life and how courageous I'd been in my ill-fated attempt to wield a sword. Everyone burst into laughter when Hrongar went on to explain how myself and the other captives had been kept silent during the three-day voyage across the North Sea. More specifically, they laughed when he explained to them how we'd all spent the trip sucking on the positively rotten socks he and his colleagues had been wearing.
Only when the joyous discussion veered toward a different subject did the blond warrior see fit to finally address me.
"How come you work here? Did my father buy you? Speak, pretty one."
The cheering and hollering echoing across the high-ceilinged hall made it difficult for the sound of my meagre voice to travel the short distance up to Hrongar's ear, but the short-haired warrior simply lowered his head and brought his ear down to my mouth level so that he could hear my explanation.
"No, hǫlðr-drengr." I spoke, assuming an appropriately submissive tone and referring to the hulking behemoth whose lap I was sitting on as a "hero-warrior" in the hopes of gaining his favour. "No one want to buy me. Thrall seller sent me here at request of Balgruuf." I explained, doing my best to enunciate the way head cook Ilda had taught me to.
Hrongar gave me a befuddled look before finally smiling and allowing the sound of warm laughter to leave his mouth. At first, I thought he found my lack of salability amusing, but it was actually my ability to speak in a comprehensible manner that had him greatly surprised and amused.
"You speak well, little man!" he approvingly chuckled, wrapping his impossibly massive arms even tighter around my diminutive frame and causing the back of my head to sink down into his enormous, tunic-covered chest.
"You meet Ilda?" he asked, to which I nodded my head affirmatively, all the while keeping my gaze cast down in unbridled submission. This was no mere warrior I was speaking to. This was the son of the Jarl. And the eldest one, at that.
"Show hand, milk-drinker. What happen?" he questioned, wrapping his thick fingers around my twig-like left wrist upon noticing the clean bandages still wrapped around my thumb and palm.
"Accident in the kitchen, mighty warrior." I ashamedly tried to explain, feeling a tinge of uncertainty at my use of foreign-sounding words, some of which I knew had multiple meanings. Hrongar chugged the remainder of his golden honey mead down and smirked derisively before ruffling my hair up and returning his focus to more important matters.
Tales and stories abounded left and right. Many of them were obviously humorous in nature even though much of it unsurprisingly escaped me. Lady Gerda occasionally chimed in to express her disbelief at the tall tales being spun by her husband and his hulking comrades, but she spent most of her time discussing pregnancy-related issues with the two similarly-aged women seated in front of her.
No one seemed to find it odd that a lowly thrall was sitting on mighty Hrongar's lap, and for a while there it almost seemed as though I was once again invisible to the raucous Norsemen and their chattering wives.
I tried getting up and returning to my duties, but my repeated efforts to do so were immediately quashed by the tightening of my talkative captor's stupendously thick arms. At one point, I even tried alerting him of my need to help the other servants, but the Jarl's high-spirited firstborn would not listen.
"Sitja um kyrt. Be still and quiet the worms in your tunic, little thrall." was the only thing he told me, before loosely clamping his left hand atop the near-entirety of my face and returning his attention to the lively banter and humourous tales taking shape all around us.
With my hazel orbs just barely clearing the champion-warrior's suffocatingly gargantuan hand-muzzle, I saw that my fellow servants were having trouble keeping up with the constant demands for more food and ale, but was powerless to come to their aid or do anything about it.
The Jarl's mighty firstborn son wanted me on his lap and he wanted me silent. Such is how he would have me.
INTERESTED IN THIS STORY? WANT A FOLLOW-UP CHAPTER?
LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS!
READER COMMENTS WILL BE USED TO GAUGE THE LEVEL OF AUDIENCE INTEREST IN THIS PROJECT.
LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS!
READER COMMENTS WILL BE USED TO GAUGE THE LEVEL OF AUDIENCE INTEREST IN THIS PROJECT.
Well Hrongar has a favourite. I would be the same as Jamis, and try to get away so my co-workers wouldn't hold that against me
Looking forward always to this tale as it progresses. I am not familiar with this era if you will, but really enjoy how [mention]bondagefreak[/mention] you are writing this.![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_e_smile.gif)
![Embarrassed :oops:](./images/smilies/icon_redface.gif)
Looking forward always to this tale as it progresses. I am not familiar with this era if you will, but really enjoy how [mention]bondagefreak[/mention] you are writing this.
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_e_smile.gif)
Interesting, Hrongar seems somehow friendlier than he was on the longship journey. Keep up the great work [mention]bondagefreak[/mention]!