It had all started with an innocent comment over drinks.

“All that I am saying is, I have never seen or heard of a woman doing the Oar Dance,” said Jens. He took a long drink of his ale.

“I heard what you said the first time,” replied Astrid. “And I said, that doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”

“And I’m saying that you’re not going to be the first one to try it,” rumbled Huw. “There’s a dozen ways you could get hurt, and I’m not having it.”

“Doesn’t mean it can’t be done,” Astrid muttered into her cup.

***

That had been the night before, when Rugen had beached the ship so that they could take on water and hunt for food before making the final leg of their return voyage to Visby. It had been too late to hunt by the time they came ashore, but they had managed to have a nice fire, some good ale, and words had been traded between an insistent Astrid and the sailors like Jens, who had stopped just short of mocking her.

Now, it was morning. She had awakened and Huw was gone. He had said he and Rugen were going hunting and Huw’s bow was gone. Astrid was bored. She had wanted to join the two on the hunt, but Huw had told her that there were wild boar in the area, and that it was too dangerous.

A likely story. More ale and tall tales in the forest with his friend, more like it.

She kicked at a rock on the beach, then spent some time trying to see how far she could make rocks skip. She could hear the low voices of the sailors as they talked amongst themselves, then a burst of laughter.

Astrid couldn’t help but think that they were laughing at her.

That’s it, she decided.

She strode over to the knot of men who were talking. Their conversation stopped as she approached. Astrid marched right in front of Jens, the one who had teased her the night before.

“If you’re not too busy, set up the oars,” she said.

“How’s that now, witch?” he replied, a hint of a sneer on his face.

“I said, if you’re not too busy, set up the oars,” she repeated. “I mean to show you what a woman can do.”

“You don’t want to do this, lass,” said another sailor kindly.

“I believe I do,” Astrid replied firmly.

Jens looked her up and down, in a way Astrid suspected he would not have done, had Huw been there. “No one does the Oar Dance without a wager,” he said.

“Then name your wager,” replied Astrid.

The same sailor who had advised Astrid not to continue took hold of Jens’ arm and whispered what sounded like a warning in the man’s ear. Jens shook his arm away.

“Fine,” he said, with a glance back at the other sailor. “A silver penny.”

“Done,” said Astrid. “So set them up.”

“You heard the witch!” roared Jens. “We’re going to have an Oar Dance!”

There were cheers from the other sailors, and a group of them climbed aboard the beached longship. Helpful hands lifted Astrid aboard as well.

On one side of the ship, fifteen sailors took the long oars and set them out straight from the ship, parallel to the water. The very last oar, near the ship’s bow, was out over the beach.

“From stern to bow, witch, without getting your feet wet and without using any of your magic. If you slip, it’s a wet arse for you, and a silver penny for me!” called Jens.

Astrid walked to the stern of the boat, doing her best to show no signs of the nervousness she suddenly felt.

You do let your mouth lead you right into trouble, don’t you?

She reached the first oar, held by a sailor a few feet from the stern of the longship.

“Don’t stop and don’t think about it, lass,” he murmured, low enough that only she could hear. “Get out there and don’t look down. Eyes on the shore.”

Astrid smiled at him nervously and stepped onto the shaft of his oar. It was big enough that she could put both feet on it, as long as she kept them one in front of the other. Slowly, she sidled her way along the shaft of the oar, until she was a good six feet from the boat, well over the water.

“Come on!” shouted Jens, affecting boredom. “Get started already! I want my penny!”

I’ll give you more than a penny, you loudmouth.

It seemed an awfully long way from one oar to the next. It would take a leap, rather than a simple stride.

Don’t look down, and don’t stop.

Astrid took a deep breath and took a one-footed jump.

Made it!

She used the momentum of her jump to push off to another jump and cleared the space between the next two oars. It was like running downhill, she realized–the trick was to keep your speed and your balance, and hope you didn’t slip.

The cheers of the sailors grew louder as she passed the halfway point. Astrid had lost count of the oars she had stepped, but she could tell that not many remained.

Don’t stop! Don’t look down!

She reached the last oar, dropped so that she held it by her hands, and then let go, reaching the ground completely dry. The crew of the longship roared their approval, and even Jens was clapping his hands together while shaking his head.

And behind Jens, with his arms folded, stood Huw, with Rugen looking on, his dark countenance turning her gleeful joy to dismay.

The sailors followed her gaze and saw Huw. They fell silent. The group parted as Huw walked slowly and deliberately to stand in front of Astrid.

Then Huw took her wrist, turned to face the crew, and lifted her arm up into the air. “My woman!” he roared in triumph.

The crew cheered and shouted their approval back at the couple.

***

Between them, Huw and Rugen had managed to shoot and kill two rabbits, and that night the whole company enjoyed fresh meat, good ale, and a roaring fire. Jens, with a rueful face, presented Astrid with a silver penny. He was gracious in defeat, and called it money well spent.

After they had time to digest their food, Huw leaned over to Astrid and whispered in her, “Perhaps we should take a walk.”

Astrid looked at her man, and the expression on his face, and nodded.

“Perhaps we should,” she sighed.

Huw lit a torch from the fire, and took Astrid firmly by the hand. They walked away from the encampment in silence.

After a while, Astrid said, “I did manage without falling.”

“That you did, my love,” answered Huw, “that you did. And my heart leapt when you finished. I would not have taken that moment from you for all the gold in a dragon’s hoard.” They reached a clearing with a fallen log. “But I did tell you, very specifically, not to do it,” he added. Huw stuck the torch deeply into the turf, and sat down on the log.

Astrid looked at him for a moment, then draped herself across his lap. “I know,” she said, her face down towards the ground. “I didn’t listen.”

Huw rucked her skirt up to her back, exposing the curves of her lovely bare bottom. “No, my love, you did not. You listened to the whispers of pride, instead.” He began stroking her smooth ass with his rough hand.

“I am sorry for disobeying you,” Astrid ventured.

“I think that you had no problem with disobeying me,” replied Huw, “and that the only thing you’re sorry for is that you’re going to be punished.”

The warrior brought his hand down hard on her upturned bottom, once on each cheek.

“Yowch!” cried Astrid.

“Think of it as the price of foolish pride,” said Huw, and set to work in earnest. Astrid wriggled her bottom–she couldn’t help it–but did not try to leave her warrior’s lap. This was her punishment, and she had earned it. For all the pain and discomfort it entailed, she had a man who loved her enough to hold her accountable for her actions.

Sure enough, Astrid could feel the pool of desire forming at the apex of her thighs. Huw’s hand continued to come down on her ass, but pain was giving way to the surging rise of desire. She could feel the same held true for her man, as his cock stiffened beneath her.

Suddenly, Huw’s fingers were dipping between her legs, and Astrid gasped as the warrior slid two fingers inside her. Her pussy was wet and thoroughly ready for him. He scissored his fingers, and that was enough to send Astrid tumbling over the edge of her first climax.

“Please, Huw,” she pleaded. That earned her two more stinging smacks on her backside, then he pinched at her clit.

Only then did Huw lift her from his lap, gently bending her over the fallen log. Huw shoved his trousers down past his buttocks, exposing his hard cock, jutting out form his body. There was a gentle probing by the broad head, nudging her swollen labia aside. There was nothing gentle, however, about the way he thrust his rigid cock inside of her, sending her over the edge for a second time.

“Goddess!” cried Astrid, as her warrior pounded her pussy from behind, driving in a steady rhythm that brought his pelvis grinding against her hot, sore bottom. She grabbed at the bark of the fallen log, trying to steady herself as he thrust into her again and again. Before she knew it, Astrid was tumbling into yet another climax.

Although later she might complain about the moss stains on her blouse, the truth was that Astrid loved the way Huw handled her. He wanted her, so he bent her over a log and fucked the daylights out of her. Astrid couldn’t move even if she wanted to, and moving was the last thing she wanted to do.

Huw’s thrusts felt more insistent, frenzied, and Astrid felt her own body respond to the ramping up of his need.

Oh, goddess. Here it comes.

Sure enough, Huw’s driving cock sent her over the edge one final time, her pussy clamping down on him, and she felt him erupt inside her, sending thick spurts of his creamy essence into her ravaged sheath.

They both stayed there for a moment, Astrid bent over the log, Huw inside her.

“It’s only proper that we ended with a good fuck,” said Astrid. “I did win the Oar Dance, after all.”