                           The Bargain
                         An Erotic Story

     Why is it so cold ... and why the bloody HELL am I lugging 
this suitcase through the middle of ... Hel?  One minute I'm your 
average sales man, the next I's a warlock in the middle of 
Fimbulwinter?  OK ... so I'm NOT exactly average.  How many 
average Joes would even know what Fimbulwinter was ... let alone 
that bag of bones ahead of me.  I'm to meet the Spae-Wife 
Grua ... and give and get a message.  He'd make it worth my 
while, the guy said ... as if I'd believed him then.  Bloody one-
eyed overmuscled freak.
     What the bloody Hell ... No, make that Hel, could make 
risking my life on this frozen landscape "worth my while?"
     Well, First stop up ahead.  Some Farmer's hut.  Gawd.  What 
a dump.  Well ... looking closer, I've seen worse farms ... but 
in this world, with no electricity, no internet, no technology 
except that of Magic ... well, things looked bleak.  Sure ... I'm 
supposed to waltz in here, tell the local Churl that I'm a 
warlock on a mission to Hel for Odin, and expect to be welcomed.  
Yeah, right.  And I've got a bridge to sell you.  Probably not 
half as good as the one Odin sold me, though.
     By this time, the change from Upstate Minnesota in June to 
who-knows-where in winter, was enough to convince me that Odin 
WAS the Odin he had claimed to be.  Only ... according to the 
VERY short briefing I'd gotten, it was supposedly June here ... 
High summer, normally.  Only this was Fimbulwinter ... the winter 
of the Twilight of the Gods ... last stage before Ragnarok, when 
the Gods and Giants fought things out to see which would rule the 
next Age ... Where hopefully there would be men and not monsters 
for the New Rulers to rule over.  Which was why MOST men allied 
themselves with the gods.  Not that Odin and kin made very good 
allies at the best of times.  Still, they DID keep promises ... 
even Loki did ... which was why it was almost impossible to trap 
one into a promise worth a shit.
     Once again I wondered at the "make it worth my while" 
promise I had gotten.  Even a million bucks wouldn't make THIS 
trip worth my while ... and I'm damned sure Odin knew that.
     Well .... While technology didn't work, plain old low-tech 
clothing did.  Down-lined parkas, felt boots with leather and 
other cold-weather gear seemed to work just as well here as back 
home ... even the knife WORKED ... though he had to keep the 
"stainless steel" blade well-oiled to keep it from rusting.  The 
old fart had known what he was talking about.
     A sudden pain in the head reminded me that the "old fart" 
could read minds ... even at a long distance ... and this was 
right close to home for the gods.  I mentally apologized, and the 
pain let up.  Geesh ... even my thoughts are censored.  What 
could be worth THIS?
     By now, the door which had at first SEEMED so close, but 
then took miles to reach was in front of me.  I had barely raised 
my hand, when the door opened and a blast of heat almost knocked 
me over.  "Welcome stranger, to the House of Knord!"
     "Thank you," I said; taken aback.  I had EXPECTED to have to 
explain who I was, where I came from, what I was doing, and most-


                                1


especially who sent me, before being welcomed.  "I'm Frank 
Turnbow," I started ....
     "Oh Daddy, let the man IN," giggled a feminine voice.  "It's 
COLD out there, and the poor man must be freezing."
     Actually, in the blast of heat from the door, and my rated-
60-below-arctic-wear, I was almost roasting.
     Before I could say anything more, I was rushed inside, and 
helpful hands were stripping me of the excess clothing.
     FEMALE hands ... and more than excess.  I found myself 
clutching desperately at my shirt and shorts, as everything else 
followed my boots and overclothes into a side-room stuffed with 
similar outer-wear.
     "Good eve, Sier Frank.  "tis good to see a freeman out in 
these times.  Come sit by the fire, and if you have news to tell, 
the family will reward you with roof and table."
     "Uh ... Not Sier Frank," I replied; barley rescuing an 
undershirt from a giggling girl whose face looked barely 
fourteen, but whose build resembled ... well, one of those 
warrior women in D&D magazines ... You know the kind, comes in 
riding a polar-bare (intentional miss-spelling) with barely 
enough clothing to hint at being armor.  Like that ... and 
similar clothing.  "Just Frank.  I explained.  I'm ... I guess 
you'd call me a warlock, though not much of one.  I'm on a 
mission to Hel for Odin."  There, I'd gotten it out.
     This brought a sudden silence.  For a second, I wondered if 
I'd made a mistake, found the wrong house (Possibly an enemy 
one?) or even insulted my host.  Then:
     "Please, Daddy?"
     "You SAID the next hero that came through!"
     "If a warlock on a mission from Himself isn't a hero, then 
who is?"
     The three girls, ranging in my estimate from at first twelve 
to 18, and then looking closer at bodies and attitudes as WOMEN 
from ... probably sixteen to twenty-three, acting like preschool 
children promised a trip to the circus, was quite astonishing.
     "Girls!  AFTER supper."  The firm voice announced the 
entrance of the fourth member of the household (and I hoped, the 
last; as I was already getting overwhelmed).
     "I see you've met my errant and horny daughters," remarked 
the woman dryly.  Though not fat, the woman was HUGE.  She had 
arms that made Odin's look thin, and legs that could wrestle 
grizzly bears.
     "Uh, Meet my wife, Hilda, My eldest daughter, Gueneveve, My 
middle-daughter and shield-maiden, Tolo, and last, but not least, 
my youngest daughter, Suzanne," rumbled my host with a sweeping 
arm.
     The eldest daughter was the most dressed-up of the three; in 
a simple one-piece cloth outfit that reached to the floor.  
Still, you could tell, both from the lay of the rough cloth and 
from scattered holes in the fabric that the body underneath was 
not kept separate (and most likely never had been) from the 
garment by hose (panty or not) underwear, or foundation-garments 
of any kind ... particularly not brassieres.  How those 
incredible mammaries defied gravity, was a question to ask 
somebody like Odin.


                                2


     Next, was the one I'd almost gotten a little too intimate 
with already ... the one that looked like "Sheera of the North" 
only incredibly more real and intimate.  Her hot gaze looked at 
me like I was a piece of meat she was about to devour.  I revised 
my estimate of the woman's age upward once again from first-guess 
of 14, second-guess of 16, to now at least 18 and possibly 
twenty.  For looks like that at twenty, I knew women in 
Minneapolis who would gladly kill ... but never exercise like it 
was so obvious this one did.  Brunette, even darker than her 
older sister's brown hair, almost black, tied in a bun to keep it 
out of fighting way ... I decided that "Sheera of the North" 
would have a hard time with this Hel-cat.
     Finally, the youngest.  Tongue-tied and grinning, this 
little minx reminded me of ... of my sister?  No ... maybe a 
third cousin.  My sister was never this sexy.  Sisters aren't.  
Her hair, lightest of the three, was still a chocolaty brown that 
ran in sweeping waves from the tip of her head to ... my God, the 
stuff must reach to her knees when she stands up.  Kneeling as 
she was, the woman's hair actually touched the floor and piled 
around her ankles!
     "Frank Warlock, could you honor a poor farmer by allowing 
him to change his offer?"
     "Huh?  Uh ... Go ahead?"  I wasn't about to make waves or 
turn the guy down in any way.  He, or any of his kids, for that 
matter, could easily slice me up into lunch-meat.  Even the 
youngest, Suzette, could probably wrap me up and toss me to the 
wolves without breaking a sweat.
     "Would you do this poor farmer the chance to offer you his 
full hospitality ... Table, Roof, and Bed?"
     Oh God ... WHERE had I heard those words before.  They had 
more meaning I KNEW than just what they seemed.  And these so-
called "simple" societies could get almighty peeved if you 
insulted them.  What was that quote?
     "Uh, you mean?"  I prompted, trying to buy time.
     "It has been a LONG time since a Hero has passed this way," 
he explained.  (I could hear the Capital Hero in his words.) and 
especially not one that is a wizard with the grace of Odin on 
him.  We ... our family would be greatly honored if you would do 
us this service."
     I almost had it.  Still, better NOT be under false 
pretenses.  "Uh, I'm not really ...," I started to explain.
     Knord (if that was his first name or last ... I never did 
find out) gave a bellow of laughter as his hand thumped me in the 
back in what I guess he THOUGHT was camaraderie.  "Oh come now," 
he guffawed.  "Odinn One-Eye sends a warlock to Hel ... and he 
claims not to be either Hero or Wizard!"
     He chortled about three times, while I desperately tried to 
catch my breath ... and wondered if he hadn't snapped a vertebrae 
in my back.  Hero ... THAT was it!  Suddenly the reference 
slammed into place in my brain.
     "Well," He chuckled, "If you're neither Hero nor Wizard NOW, 
then for sure you WILL be by the time you return.  The get of a 
Hero, or even a warlock would be most welcomed in this house.  It 
has been years since the last stopped by."  Here, Knord aimed a 
pointed wink at his middle daughter.  "And with Fimbulwinter upon 


                                3


us, and Ragnarok not far away, the get of Heros, Wizards, and 
even Yeomen are greatly to be desired.  To have both in one man, 
would do us not only great honor, but would help this poor family 
to survive."  He looked me in the eye, as if daring me to object.  
For a second, I wondered if he'd throw me to the wolves, if I 
did.
     "Glory Road," I gasped; as the memories drifted in.  I 
wondered for a moment if Heinlein had dreamed of this place.  For 
sure DePratt had.
     "Table and Roof," I repeated, to be sure.
     "And bed," repeated all five family members.
     "And bed," I accepted.  "IF that's what YOU want," I 
amended.  "ALL of you."
     "Odinn, Hear Us.  We ask that you witness our offer of 
Table, Roof, and Bed, to your servant, Frank Warlock," Solemnly 
spoke all four women, with the father intoning a bass to the 
treble of his daughters, and the surprising baritone of his wife.  
The sound was almost like a pre-rehearsed prayer.
     "Odin, Hear Me," I repeated.  "I accept this offer of Table, 
Roof and Bed by Knord and His Family; and will do my best to 
honor the commitment I make."
     "I hear."  Was that my imagination.  In this world, I 
decided I'd better ass-u-me that it was not.  Breaking a promise 
to a god could be worse than committing suicide.  Much worse.  
For a second, I worried about what mess I had gotten myself into 
THIS time.  The last promise I made (half drunk, I'll admit) had 
gotten me into carrying a suitcase to Hel.  Oh shit.
     From somewhere far off, I heard the echoes of immense 
laughter.
     "Table," said Hilda; suddenly all business.  "Girls, could 
you help our guest get ready, while supper is preparing?
     Huh?  Girls?  Help?
     Suddenly I was being man-handled like a baby would be 
handled by a full grown woman.  What I had to say or wanted, was 
not only unimportant, but was completely ignored as all three 
women left in the room picked me up, undressed me completely, and 
CARRIED me into a small room that made the heat of the entryway 
seem like a cool breeze.  A sudden loud HISSSSSS made me notice 
Suzette out of the corner of my eye pouring a carafe or something 
like one over a pile of stones ... which made both stones and 
girl vanish in a cloud of steam.  Suddenly the sauna felt even 
hotter.  The realization that the women were as completely naked 
as I was, made that heat seem almost inconsequential.  It was 
only the saving-grace of finding my host, Knord, equally naked on 
the rough-hewn bench that rescued me from dying of embarrassment.  
At least the girls wouldn't sexually attack me HERE, in front of 
their own father.
     Oh yeah?  I forgot the customs of places like Finland and 
Denmark ... and the fact that it had been Knord who had offered 
me hospitality of, "Table and Roof and Bed."  Before I had more 
than a slight chance to reflect on this, his two older daughters 
had "plonked" me on the hard board surface, where I almost winced 
in expectation of a splinter.  No splinter.  The surface had been 
hewed with an axe, but with such skill that I defy a commercial 
plane to leave less splinters.  Smooth scallops, but no splinters 


                                4


anywhere.
     With giggles, I found myself with an Amazon on each side, 
naked, and with erotic ideas.  Their father was an almost 
unnoticed bystander.  (Unnoticed? ... Well, maybe not.)
     "He's thin," remarked Tolo, seeming disappointed that I 
didn't have the oaken thighs of previous boyfriends.
     "He's a Warlock, remember," chided her older sister.  
"Besides, he's handsome."
     Well, that IS something that's pleasant to hear from a 
beautiful woman.  And Guenevere was ... both woman AND beautiful.  
While not as long-haired and dark as her little sister, the full 
flush of womanhood was enough to make even women like Dolly 
Parton envious.  I had no idea what sizes women use to rate 
brassieres ... But if there was such a thing as 38-DD, like some 
porno-stories insist, this woman would find such things too 
small.  However, on that body, it didn't seem out-of-place, as 
both of the older girls were built on a scale to make Wonder-
Woman look like an under-endowed midget.
     The intimate attention of two extremely sexy women almost 
climbing in my lap had me suddenly and very embarrassedly erect.
     "Oh look," cooed Suzette.  "I think he LIKES us!"
     My flaming red embarrassment was cut short by an even bigger 
surprise, as the youngest of the three sisters knelt between my 
legs and ... in full view of her two sisters and father ... 
swallowed my prick!  The sudden tightening of rock-hard muscles 
around my arms and legs kept me from jumping up and running who-
knows-where.
     Suddenly the LAST thing I wanted to do was jump and run ... 
as the blow-job I was receiving turned into the best one I'd ever 
had.  (Aw heck!  Who am I kidding?  Of COURSE it was the best I'd 
ever had, because it was the FIRST.  Yeah, the brazen "hero", 
"warlock" and cross-dimensional traveler was ... was a fucking 
virgin!  OK ... OK!  NON-fucking-virgin, if you prefer.  If the 
girls ever found out ... I resolved they never would ... and 
heard another echo of that damnable laughter in my head.)
     "Girls ... GIRLS!  Table first," came the insistent voice of 
their mother.  "Get him ready.  Supper in two lengths."
     "Yes, Momma."
     Suddenly I felt myself lifted again, picked up, and THROWN 
out of the house!  I landed in a snowdrift that must have been 
six feet high.
     Spluttering at the shock, and wondering if they were going 
to leave me out here, naked, without my winter-wear to freeze-to-
death in the growing dark and even colder night, suddenly I found 
myself shaken as two, three, then four "thuds" announced the 
arrival of the three girls and their father ... willingly joining 
me in a bath of snow that surprisingly felt GOOD after the 
incredible heat of the sauna.
     Then, still giggling and teasing, the three girls dashed 
back inside, in a peripatetic pile of moving female bodies like 
some never-ending, always moving, welcoming ceremony with me in 
the middle, like I hadn't heard of since ... since never.
     The giggling and naked teasing continued, as all three girls 
combined to wipe me down with hot dry towels (surprisingly soft, 
in spite of obviously being home-sewn, knit, and spun).  My hard-


                                5


on had mysteriously vanished as quick as it came.
     "Table," intoned Hilda, from her seat on the floor.  Instead 
of the tall table I had expected, with rude benches around, the 
family sorted themselves around a low rise in the middle of the 
room.  (You couldn't call part of the floor a TABLE, could you?  
Obviously THIS family did).  The floor and table, like the seats 
in the sauna were sculpted by hand with axe or adze to a 
painstaking smoothness.
     The whole family suddenly went silent, as Knord sat tailor-
fasion, his wife beside him with both feet incredibly touching 
sole-to-sole as he intoned.  "Thank You Odinn, for these gifts."
     Somehow I KNEW he was including ME in that list of "gifts."  
There was no response from the ever-listening Odin ... or was 
there?  A maple-leaf slowly drifted from the ceiling ... in the 
middle of winter?  And a flapping noise and "Caw!" from outside 
left the distinct impression of a crow leaving.  Damn ... what 
was it about Odin and crows?
     Looking around, the tailor-seated family, the low table, the 
quiet ... all suddenly reminded me in an almost homesick manner 
of the last time I had attended a meal like this.  A friend who 
had been in the service had invited me to a Geisha party in Japan 
during a visit there.  Boring, white-faced girls in stilted 
clothing and even stiffer manners had squired us through a tea 
ceremony that almost put me to sleep.  And *I* had gone there 
almost expecting to get laid!  What a laugh.  My virginity 
remained intact in Japan, like it had in all the other 23 years 
of my sorry life.  With my luck, even being here, and even with 
the start of a blow-job from one of the sexiest girls I'd ever 
met, I'd be lucky to get out without my hated virginity.  
Something almost certainly would spoil the promise of "Table, 
Roof, and Bed."
     Well ... Table certainly went well.  The one shocker was 
that instead of honey-sweet mead, like I expected in a place like 
this, the drink was closer to almost-liquid milk-shake, or home-
made vanilla ice-cream!  The taste of vanilla-nut in the white 
liquid was almost unreal.  Something in this world must take the 
place of the tropical plant in mine.   Frozen ice-chunks told me 
the rest of the recipe,  Snow, honey, vanilla (or whatever) and 
milk made a surprisingly good drink.  Bread with meat and some 
kind of sauce made most of the rest of the meal.  Yeah, 
sandwiches (trenchers I think) but good!
     "Yawn.  I think I'm ready for BED now," remarked the oldest; 
stretching in an almost unbelievably fake imitation of 
sleepiness.
     "Me too," chimed in Suzette,
     "Well, *I* am ready for bed ... How about you?" Inquired 
Knord ... looking pointedly at his brood in dishabille.
     It would have been unconscionable to back out now.  Besides, 
if I turned down THIS opportunity I'd be kicking myself until 
they carted me off from the geriatric clinic to my grave.
     I had a sudden horrible thought.  "Uh, my suitcase?" I 
wondered.
     "Suitcase?"  The mispronunciation was bad, but recognizable.
     "Suitcase."  I made lifting motions.
     "In the entry ... Guenevere will guard, then I will," 


                                6


informed Hilda."  I knew that it would take a dragon to get past 
either of them.
     Two minutes later I was being led into a dark room where 
rugs were on the floor, but little else.  Somehow I knew this was 
the master-bedroom.  I wasn't surprised that Hilda had followed 
me in, and in fact was leading me by the hand.  After all, "rank 
has it's privileges" and "age before beauty," and all that.  But 
I never expected a THREESOME for my first time!
     Only (thankfully) Knord just moved off to the corner to 
watch.
     But that didn't help!  There's something about "doing it" 
with an audience that will make the proudest prick go completely 
limp!  And remember, I was a virgin.
     "Is something the matter?" inquired Hilda, sorrowfully.  
"Perhaps I am too old for a young man like you?  Perhaps one of 
my daughters?"
     "I just COULDN'T tell this wonderful woman that ... 
especially since it wasn't the truth.  Telling the truth 
either ... that having her husband there made me nervous, would 
be almost as unconscionable.  While I knew she would get the 
girls, or even Knord would leave if I asked ... How COULD I do 
that to them ... after all they offered me?  I couldn't.  Neither 
could I get a hard-on.  Finally a truth I COULD tell occurred to 
me.
     "Um ... It's not really that ... it's just that I 
never ...."  Oh God (or Oh, Odin) it was HARD admitting that I'd 
practically lived the life of a hermit up to now; with my sexual-
encounters relegated to "Mary Palm and her five daughters."
     "You speak truth?  Are a virgin?" she asked, amazed.
     When I nodded, for a second she looked worried.  "It not be 
wizard oath that keep you so?"
     "Oh no!" I protested.  "I WANT ...."  I gestured to make it 
clear just what I wanted.
     "Oh."  Both people smiled back at me.  "Virginity easy 
cured," she told me ... and you know what?  She was right!
     It's absolutely amazing how sexy feeling a beautiful woman 
sliding up next to you can be ... and how a hand, body, breast, 
or mouth of a wonderful woman who WANTS to make love to you can 
arouse even the most recalcitrant of pricks.  Two minutes later I 
felt an incredibly smooth hotness surround my penis ... and my 
virginity was gone!
     I'd LIKE to say I fucked and screwed that wonderful woman 
for HOURS before planting my seed in her belly ... but sadly two 
seconds after getting fully inside her, my lack of experience 
showed, as I sent pulse after frantic pulse of sperm in search of 
her waiting fertility.  Somehow I knew that nine months later I 
would be a father, as well as an ex-virgin ... and hopefully, 
Hero.
     Surprisingly, Hilda wasn't annoyed or even slightly 
dissatisfied.  I don't think she wanted another lover ... just a 
Hero's baby.  Hilda already HAD the man she wanted.
     Her daughters, however.
     "Now you not be so overeager," she told me.  "You go treat 
my little girls right!"  And ... just like that, she pushed me 
out of the room!


                                7


     Eager giggles told me that I was expected ... and likely 
three more girls would soon be expecting.
     It was THEN, that I realized what Odin had meant when he 
told me "You will find it worth your while."  From the directions 
I had, I would be well over a month on the journey ... sleeping 
at different halls and cots and farms every night.  The three 
giggling, and extremely horny girls who rose up around me like a 
wall of sexy bodies, were just the start.
     Suddenly, getting that damnable suitcase to Hel ... even if 
I ended up staying there myself ... seemed like a Hel of a 
bargain.
     Faintly, I could hear the laughter of a god.













































                                8
