Andromeda

“Am I to be used like this again?” Anna asked as she looked upon a buxom slave girl spread out on a table, held down by three Vikings while a fourth mounted her. If she struggled at all, it was only to wrap her legs around her captor's torso.

image credit: Ingemann-Strunch - The Feast (Viking music)
youtu.be/YrLWO7F_iYw

“No, silly,” Róta laughed. “Those are slave girls. Your position is among the highest of the high. You are among the Fallen Worthy: one who fell in battle,” her guide said as she handed Anna off to another Valkyrie. “She is Mist. I must attend to other duties. Be well.”
“Come, I will take you to a table,” Mist said. “We do not get many from your age, your people no longer believing in the old ways. Nor do we get many female warriors. But don’t worry, you won’t be alone. We do get some on occasion. I know the perfect place for you, a corner just for women from around your time. You might feel more comfortable among them. Of course, you are free to join the men and keep whatever company you choose.”
“Am I really dead?” Anna asked again as she looked around while being navigated through the general rowdiness. “I don’t feel particularly dead.”

Although most of the fallen around her were Vikings and other assorted barbarians, Anna saw the occasional few who weren’t. There were men from the Napoleonic era, several soldiers from World War I, a few more from World War II, and some dressed in uniforms from wars that had not happened yet.

Anna made her way past table upon table, following Mist closely. She was sure she'd be separated from her Valkyrie and be swooped up, mistaken for a serving wench. She imagined the hands of a crude and smelly Viking all over her. But Mist didn’t let anything like that happen to her.

Anna was taken by surprise as she passed a table of young men in tweed jackets. They’re not soldiers, she thought. Then she recognized them for who they were. Revolutionaries! Judging from their clothing, they were college students who took to the streets in Budapest, 1956. She gasped as she passed them. Her eyes locked with those of one particularly intense young man. He had wild blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Although she broke her gaze quickly, he followed her with his eyes as she passed. Did she know him from somewhere? Perhaps he was an intern from the Budapest hospital where she'd worked as a cover job. Mist led her through an arched entryway into a different wing of the hall. That was the last she saw of the student revolutionaries.

“This should suit you,” Mist said as they arrived in an alcove with a table of ten women. The table was laid out with platters of boar, roast potatoes, side dishes of all kinds, and pies and puddings for dessert. Each woman had a chalice of wine. Anna’s eyes bulged when she saw the walls decorated with male slaves. Each of them was chained by their wrists and ankles, spread eagle, displaying the full splendor of their muscled bodies. Each of them had a well-endowed erection, red and ready to burst at a moment's teasing. Some of the women hung scarves or trinkets from the cocks.

“Anna, this is Julia,” her Valkyrie said.

“Hello.” Anna took the only remaining free seat across from the other woman. She briefly took her eyes off the men arrayed on the wall when a handsomely muscled slave with a leather collar around his neck served a plate of roast boar for her. He then poured her a chalice of wine.

“Welcome,” Julia replied.

“Um,” Anna said, eyes still transfixed on the male slaves arrayed on the walls.

“Julia died in the Great Patriotic War,” Mist continued. “She was a fighter pilot on the Soviet side, shot down by a Luftwaffe pilot in 1942 as she was holding back the German onslaught. Anna died in hand-to-hand combat during the Cold War. She received a mortal wound to the heart, which festered in her for years before it took her.”

I did not receive a wound to the heart. I wasn’t even scratched, Anna thought. Why do these Valkyries keep saying that?

The women’s table had a different atmosphere from the rest of the hall. They talked among themselves. Those who wanted to join the men for brawniness and sex did so. Those who didn’t, stayed. Occasionally, one or two of their company would go off and join the males in the main hall, only to return much later with glowing smiles on their faces. Of course, a Valkyrie guard kept out the unwanted and unruly horde of male warriors.

“Is this all the women warriors there are?” Anna asked Julia.

“No, there are many other tables like this. All entertaining their private circle of friends. There are perhaps hundreds of thousands of us, but there are so many more male warriors. The Valkyries stand guard to keep us from getting overrun. We go out and take our pleasure among the men at the times of our own choosing.”

So, this is the afterlife, Anna mused. It’s the same as living as Uri’s sex slave: a never-ending orgy.

Yet, she freely joined the table of women in their feast. She chatted with the girls — mostly with Julia, and mostly small pleasantries. Anna explained that the Cold War didn’t take place in the arctic or some other frozen place. She steered the conversation away from telling her the Cold War was between Russia and America. Rather, she asked the Russian pilot about the afterlife. After listening to Julia’s explanation, Anna realized that her first impression summed things up well: now she can have all the sex she wants, won't get any sleep, eat and drink as much as she wants, and doesn’t have to pay for anything. Yes, this was exactly like being Uri’s sex slave.

“I still worry sometimes,” Julia said. “I left a husband behind. I’m afraid he loved me too much. I fear that he turned bitter at my loss. If Uri should find another woman, he would be too jaded for a normal relationship.”

“Uri?” Anna asked.

“Yes, that is his name; a fine young officer in the Red Army, Lieutenant Uri Konstantine.”

Anna had a flashback to the Gerbeaud Confectioners where Liudmila told her of what she knew of Uri’s past life. This woman, Julia, sitting across from her, was the wife of the man she’d stabbed in the heart. Anna’s bite of roast boar went down the wrong way.

“I just hope that whoever Uri finds, she would be understanding of him and see past his anger at my death,” Julia said. “He needs someone to help him live again. Anna, are you choking? Quick, get her some water!”

“I'm okay,” Anna said, coughing. “It's just that, um...”

“Yes?”

“Never mind.”

“It's all so overwhelming, isn't it?” Julia said looking around at all the delicious male bodies arrayed on the wall, and then at her own male slave on a leash and collar at her feet.

“Um, yes. That’s it. Overwhelming,” Anna said, not looking Julia in the eyes.

… to be continued …

Look for more Erotica, Science Fiction, and Fantasy at @joe.nobel
Then find me on my web page at http://www.joenobel.com

for …

even more stories,

links to my published works,

newbie help with bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies.

Upvote Generously!
Comment!
Re-steem!
Follow!