On a late summerâs evening, Loki & Thor stood unsteadily on the palisade of Valhalla, talking in the cool night air of Asgard.   âLook here, Thor. I was at the Fire Godâs Convention last week, and Indra gave me something.â   Thor looked at his troublesome friend over the rim of his great, mead-filled drinking horn. âI donât want to see your crabs again, Loki. The last ones could jump ten feet. I almost had to shave my beard to get rid of the bastards.â   Loki laughed & slapped Thor on his tree-like arm. âHa! No, youâll like this.â He opened a leather pouch & took out a longâstemmed pipe. A pungent aroma wafted across the palisade.   âUgh!â Exclaimed the God of Thunder, âIt smells like polecat droppings!â   âNever mind that,â Loki reassured him as he filled the pipe with a sticky green mass. âYouâll get to like it, trust me.â   âIâve heard that before, Loki. Is this one of your tricks?â Thor eyed the pipe as though it were a snake.   Loki laughed again & assured him it was not. âLook, Iâll even try it first.â He struck a flame from his bare thumb & puffed enthusiastically on the pipe. Blowing three concentric smoke rings, he handed the instrument to his friend.   Thor took the pipe in his huge fingers, but declined the flaming thumb, instead firing a tiny, flickering lightning bolt into the bowl. The two gods passed the pipe a couple of times before Thor realized his head was floating off his shoulders.   âHold, Loki. I think Iâve had enough,â said a red-eyed Thor as he tapped the bowl out over the edge of the wall.   âYou fool!â Shouted Loki, snatching the empty pipe away from Thor. âThat was still going!â He watched forlornly as the glowing ember fell through the clouds, picking up speed on itâs way to Midgard.* * *   It was hard, raising a little girl in a foreign land without her mother around, but Torr made the best of it. He had come to the land of the Scots with his father when he was barely more than a lad himself. They came a-viking, but Hrolf & his boy stayed. Hrolf settled down as a village smith & taught his boy the trade. When Hrolf was killed defending his new home from another band of vikings, Torr took over the forge & ran it in his fatherâs stead. He married a beautiful Celtic lass, who bore him a daughter before she was lost in a winter storm. She was never found, and Torr raised his little girl in her absence as best he could.   Katja steadied the small boat as her father, Torr, dragged his dredge net through the bog. Torrâs best source of iron was under eight feet of swampy water & peat. For years, he had dragged bogs up & down his lowland valley, turning up all manner of things. Sometimes, he found old bronze swords, bent double or broken. Other times he found things too grisly to bear close inspection, which he quickly dumped back into the dark water before his daughter could see. Once or twice he found gold, but best of all was the heavy lump he found entangled in his net as he pulled it into the boat.   It was a lump of iron, condensed out of the mineral-rich stew of the bog. The rotting plants trapped in the nodule could be burned out in the smelting, or by working it on the anvil, leaving good, strong iron. Torr tossed the slimy thing in the bottom of the boat with the others, where it landed with a heavy clank. After a week of camping in the lake country with his young daughter as a helper, he had found three stone weight of iron, enough to keep his forge busy through the long, dark winter.   âLetâs head in,â he told Katja, âThe last light is fading, and I do not wish to remain in the bog after dark. It is said that trolls come out at night.â   Katja gripped her oar tightly & rowed through the shifting channels as quickly as she could, propelling the boat toward solid ground and their camp.   While Torr roasted a duck over the campfire, Katja stood outside the circle of firelight, watching the bright northern stars fill the sky. Far off on the horizon, the shimmering Bifrost Bridge rippled in changing colors. âThe Wild Hunt is out tonight, father,â Katja said, but Torr was too involved in turning dinner over to look. Katja kept watching, wishing her father would come watch with her. The night sky was so beautiful!   A streak of light sped across the sky to vanish in an instant. âFather, look! A shooting star!â Katja jumped excitedly.   âMake a wish, Katja,â Torr told her.   Gazing back at her fatherâs form, lit by the campfire, she replied, âIâve made my wish, but I canât tell you.â She gasped suddenly. âLook! Thereâs another one! You can make a wish now, too, daddy!â   Torr squinted away from the glare of the fire, but even with the light in his eyes, he could see the shooting star. Unlike the others, which spent themselves in a moment of glory, this one moved slowly, glowing red & trailing sparks. It didnât vanish like the others, either, but seemed to be coming right at them.   âGet down!â Torr yelled, & launched himself toward his daughter, bearing her to the ground under him as the campfire exploded with a sound like a thunderclap. The ground bucked beneath the two, rolling them together & apart. Torrâs grasping hand accidentally found Katjaâs budding breast while he clutched her to him until the world stopped shaking.   Wild eyed, Katja clutched her fatherâs hand tightly against her soft mound until steaming mud & swamp water began pouring from the sky in a foul smelling rain.   âFather, what happened?â Katja asked.   âI think a star fell from the sky,â Torr replied.   âWhere is it?â His daughter wondered.   âThere.â Torr pointed to the remains of their camp, splintered & scattered around the rim of a smoking crater. Bog water was already seeping into the depression, only to boil violently around the seething red mass at the bottom. Billows of noisome smoke roiled up from the pit.   âIt is said that fallen stars make the best iron of all,â Torr said in a daze. âThe king has a sword of star-iron that can cleave a lesser sword in half. I mean to have that star.â   âBut itâs red hot, father!â Katja exclaimed.   âThe swamp will cool it. We need only to wait.â* * *   Torr rebuilt the campfire while Katja attempted to wash the mud from their clothes & they both waited for the star to stop bubbling & hissing.   Clad only in her thin, wet underdress, which clung to her young body like a second skin, Katja complained, âFather, itâs no use. These will never be clean again.â She held up the dripping clothes, permanently stained from the rain of bogwater.   âItâs a good thing we wore our worst out here,â said Torr. âThey only got a little worse.â He tried to look away from his daughter, but he couldnât. Her slim form was outlined in the moonlight, and it looked like she was wearing no dress at all. Her little girlâs figure was starting to show signs of womanhood. Torr remembered when he could hold her whole body in his two hands, but she had certainly grown a lot in the many years since her mother had disappeared.   Katjaâs little hips were beginning to swell, as were her young breasts. Her once boyish figure would never again be mistaken for that of a man-child, but it was clear through her wet dress that she had not yet grown hair on her young mound. Realizing he was staring, Torr finally tore his gaze away from his daughterâs rosy little nipples. Redfaced, he busied himself with the fire again, shifting to hide his stiffening manhood. His little girl should not arouse him so!   But after draping the wet clothes in a hazel thicket to dry, Katja settled into the circle of warmth by the fire & snuggled against her father. Her soft skin felt like smooth Cathay silk on Torrâs rough hide. So much like her mother!   Torrâs heart pounded as he hurried to excuse himself.âGotta piss,â he mumbled as he stumbled stiff-legged away to add his share to the swamp water.   Torr berated himself for thinking lewd thoughts about his young daughter & her supple body, her honey-gold hair, her soft, pouty lips, herâŠarrgh! He angrily shook the last drops of piss from his tool, but realized to his chagrin that his own touch had made his manhood rock-hard.   Katja lounged on the soft peat by the fire & stretched her nearly naked form like a cat as she watched her father return, carrying a load of firewood awkwardly in front of him. He dumped it by the fire & sat quickly across from her, his hands in his lap. He stared into the fire, and even though he was shivering in the cool night air, Katja could see sweat beading his brow.
   Father & daughter sat silently watching the crackling fire as the mist rose off the bog & surrounded them. Wisps of vapor from the hissing star drifted by smelling somehow foul, yet fair. The odor made Torrâs head spin as he watched his daughter sit up & drape her arms over her knees. Her sticky dress rode up & his eyes landed on Katjaâs little pink cunt, smooth & unadorned, but perfectly formed. He couldnât look away.   Katjaâs voice came as an echo through the fog. âYour shooting star is right over there. Did you make a wish, daddy?â   âUhhâŠâ Words failed Torr. He knew what he wanted, but he knew it was wrong. Only the gods got to lie with their own family. For mortals it was forbidden.   âI think I know what your wish is daddy,â said Katja, as she moved to her hands & knees & crawled around the fire to snuggle her warm body against her shivering father again. âBecause itâs the same wish I made.â   âKatja, IâŠâ Torr tried to protest, but couldnât as his daughter slid her hands into his lap & grasped his big, strong fingers in her small, slender ones. âItâs been so long since you and mommy⊠well, you know. I just want to make you happy, daddy.â She pulled his numb hands away & exposed his fat prick to the firelight. It stood like a tree in his groin.   âAhh,â sighed Katja as she laid her head in her fatherâs lap, letting his thick penis rub against her smooth cheek. The hard nubs on her tiny breasts rubbed on his thigh as she kissed his rigid shaft & took it in her small hands. She couldnât reach around it with one.   âKatja,â Torr panted. He was determined to put a stop to this, but his will faltered when his pretty daughter parted her soft lips & sucked his hard cock into her little mouth. Katjaâs cheeks bulged as she slowly engulfed her fatherâs turgid meat, but she could only swallow it half way, so she stroked the rest of it with her small hands. She looked up at her daddy through her eyelashes to see how he was doing, but he was completely dazed & glassy-eyed, watching his little girls slobber on his fat prick.   Katja wet her fatherâs big cock with saliva & stroked it with her nimble fingers where she couldnât lick it with her hot little tongue. She caressed his heavy sack as she sucked on the bulbous head of his manhood. Unable to resist, Torr groaned & pumped his shaft into his daughter's young lips until she had to come up for air.   âDaddy,â Katja gasped,â Iâm still a virgin. I want to save it for you. Will you take me, daddy? Will you make me your woman?â   âNo!â shouted Torr. âI canât. Itâs wrong. We must not.â   âIâm almost old enough,â protested his daughter. âFionna was married at fourteen!â   âThat was an arranged marriage. The lad himself is only nine, & will be making no one a woman for years. And he is the son of a chieftain, not her own father!â   âNo, heâs just her cousin. Daddy, please!â Katja pulled on her fatherâs hard wet cock for emphasis as she pleaded.   âAnd youâre not fourteen!â Torrâs voice startled the two raven sleeping in the hazel thicket. They squawked in annoyance, but settled down, eyeing the two warily.   âLook, Honeychild. You are still as smooth as a baby. Your field is fallow, and should not be touched by any plow, least of all mine.â Torr insisted.   âVery well father, but in a year or two, when my field is no longer bare, I will ask you again.â   âI forbid it,â said Torr, but his words felt hollow, since his little girl was still stroking his throbbing prick in her hands, and a drop of gooey pre-cum was smeared on her pretty lips.   âWell, itâs too late to forbid this,â said Katja, as she plunged her fatherâs fat tool into her mouth and bathed it with her hot tongue until it exploded. Her mouth was filled with hot cum & she couldnât swallow it fast enough. She gagged & pulled her daddyâs spurting shaft from her lips. Jizz splattered on her lips, her cheek , & her little budding tits, slowly soaking into the thin fabric of her dress.   âMmmm!â Katja exclaimed, but Torr could only groan. He lay in a boneless heap, all his energy spent into his little girlâs eager mouth. He could never show his face in the village again.   âNobody will ever know,â said Katja. While Torr lay stunned, she had washed the cum from her face and slipped into her over-dress, now mostly dry. She helped him to his feet & told him, âWe both got our wish tonight, daddy, and the star you wished on has stopped boiling. Letâs get it out & go home.â* * *   Over the next months, Torr & Katja worked in the forge, smelting their iron & shaping it into usable billets. They worked on a sword and a spear, combining the precious star metal with the bog iron by twisting & folding bars of each, welding them together to build up the blades.   Each evening, after banking the forge for the night & putting tools away, Katja took her fatherâs stiff rod in her mouth and suckled on it until he erupted with thick, salty cum. He was ashamed that he let his little girl, not even a woman, do such things to him, but the sight of her thick amber curls bobbing in his lap while she slid his shaft down her throat was too addicting.   Katja practiced taking her daddyâs prick deeper & deeper, until she could swallow it all, nestling her nose in his curly hair. Every night before making her father cum in her mouth, she stopped & begged him to fuck her, to make her little body his toy & make her a woman. It was hard for Torr to net let her talk him into it. He wanted nothing more than to take sweet little Katja to bed with him & ease his fat prick into his daughterâs virgin hole, but he couldnât. He was no puling Christian, with their double-talk of love & forgiveness, & of hate & hellfire. But his own gods forbid the union of mortal father & daughter.   A sense of foreboding filled Torr, and although he refused to violate his daughterâs virginity, he could not help himself when she took his throbbing shaft out of his trews & noisily slurped on it. It was a good thing the forge was well away from the rest of the village, or someone would have heard Torr groan as he filled his pretty daughterâs mouth with his seed, or heard Katjaâs pleading voice, âDaddy, please! I want you to fuck me like you did mommy. I want to feel your manhood fill me up and cum inside my belly. Please!â   Katja always swallowed some of her fatherâs cum, for she loved the rich taste of it, but most of it she let splatter on her pale little titties, where she rubbed it into her puffy nipples. âIt will make them grow larger, daddy,â she claimed, âWhen I look like a real woman, Iâll be too pretty for you to resist me.â   âHoneychild, protested Torr, âYou are already too pretty to resist, but I canât!â   Torr awoke one morning to find Katja naked in his bed, rubbing her bald pussy against his tool. Her little lips were moist and parted, and she had thoroughly greased his erect tool. He had hardened in his sleep, & if he had woken any later, it would have been too late. Just as Katja slipped her tight pink lips over the swollen head of her fatherâs shaft, & was trying to force her little body down onto it, Torr came to with a shout, rolling out from under her & making Katja fall to the floor.   A teary apology followed, which ended with Katja sucking her fatherâs aroused organ down her throat. Torr fucked his daughterâs sweet mouth, imagining it was her virgin flower he was pumping his cock into. He rubbed his daughterâs hard little nipples as he slid his meat in & out of her pouty pink lips. When he pulled out to spray his pearly seed all over his daughterâs slim body, Katja told him, âI like the taste of my juice on you, daddy. You should try some.â She had been playing with her hot little pussy while she sucked on her father, and her fingers dripped with her little girl juices. She touched them to his lips & he tasted them. Her nectar was like honey.   There were no witnesses to any of this but Torr, Katja, and the two ravens that always perched on the tree overlooking the forge.* * *   The seasons had turned, and a chill was in the air as the festival of Samhain approached. The Christians called it Halloweâen, imagining that it was one of their saintâs days. Leaves littered the ground and farmers busied themselves with culling their herds before the coming winter.   The sword & spear were finally done, the pattern-welding showing as fine herringbone down the center of the blade, the black bog iron contrasting to the bright silvery star iron. Torr took an old rust scythe blade he was going to reforge, & the new blade sheared through it neatly without a scratch. A strong cast of the spear put it right through a six-inch tree, up to the jugs. Torr had to cut the tree down to retrieve the spear.   The evening after putting on the finishing touches & polishing, Katja again sucked off her father, but after he spilled his cum all over her pretty face and round young breasts, she was still panting & squirming.   âHelp me daddy, Iâm almost there!â Her little fingers stroked her bare cunt, slipping in her juices as she rubbed her hard little button. Eyelids fluttering, her lips and her firm, high tits glistened with her fatherâs hot seed. Katja moaned as she rolled in her sleeping furs & frantically dipped her fingers in her young pussy.   Remembering her sweet taste, Torr drank deeply from the source. He threw Katjaâs slim thighs over his shoulders & grasped her squirming hips.
He pressed his lips to her slick cunt and slid his tongue inside. Katja screamed as her daddy licked her rigid clit & lapped up her sweet nectar. In no time at all, her little body was wracked with her very first orgasm, but her father kept eating her tender, juicy pussy until she had a second & third.   Father & daughter fell asleep together in Katjaâs bed, their skin sticky & sweaty. The cock crowed for an hour before either of them stirred the next morning. Disheveled and looking as happy as the cat that got the canary, Katja pulled her father back into her bed when he tried to get up.   She laid on her back and pulled her knees up and apart to expose her little pink lips to her daddyâs gaze. Torr had to have another taste of his pretty girlâs fresh young twat. He laid between her thighs and kissed his way from her knees up to her moist center. His beard tickled her tender skin as he brushed her pink lips with his own. He breathed softly on her mound, and Katja squirmed from the heat on her sensitive clitty.   Katja squealed as her daddyâs hot tongue teased her little lips apart. Torr lapped tenderly at the sweet musk that dribbled from his daughterâs delicious cunt, and he licked the pink folds slowly from bottom to top. He licked up all the nectar that moistened her outer lips, then he went looking for more. He snaked his tongue down into her tight virgin hole, savoring the exquisite taste of Katjaâs young pussy.   Katjaâs squirming feet found her fatherâs rock hard prick & reminded her of her favorite thing. âTurn me around, daddy. I want to suck on you, too.â   Torr eagerly complied, and soon held his daughterâs little body on top of his, her slim thighs spread wide over his hungry lips, and her face by his throbbing organ. He put his hands on Katjaâs firm little buns and pulled her to him, pressing her pink mound to his face.    Katja stroked her fatherâs pole, amazed to see it grow even bigger in her hand. She rubbed it all over her young face, wondering how her father, all rough & scarred, could have such velvety skin on his cock. She kissed it from root to tip, where her little pink tongue flicked out to taste the drop hanging on the end. Flicking her tongue back & forth, Katja licked back to the base of her fatherâs meat, moistening it liberally with saliva as she went.   Once she had it completely wet, Katja pumped her daddyâs prick with her little hands as she sucked the big head into her mouth & swirled her tongue around it. Torrâs tongue hit her excited clit, and as she gasped, he bucked his hips, sliding his cock deep into her lips. She opened wide to take him all in, and she sucked her daddyâs hard cock all the way down.   Torr held tight to Katjaâs firm butt as he devoured her young pussy, and she took his big pole in her hot mouth until they both neared climax. Finally, the wave crested and crashed over both of them at once. Katjaâs virgin cunt rippled & clamped on Torrâs probing tongue as she came all over her daddyâs face. Torrâs roar was muffled in her delicate folds as he erupted in his daughters mouth. His hot jizz splashed against the back of Katjaâs throat, & she coughed. It oozed out of her lips and dribbled over her little pumping fingers. She pulled off it to breathe, and thick ropes of cum hung from her full lips to her daddyâs big red prick.* * *   Determined to try out his new spear, Torr prepared to go hunting. Katja packed him bread & cheese & salted pork to eat, and a flask of mead to wash it down with. With a kiss on his daughterâs lips and a caress of her young breast, Torr set off into the forest with his pack mule and his spear. In his absence, Katja set herself upon the household chores.   Torr had been gone half an hour when Katja realized he had left his sword behind. It was important that he had it, for wild boar were dangerous prey. Even when mortally pierced by a spear, they could still crawl up the shaft after their hunter. It was necessary to have a close-in weapon to finish off such prey, and the sword would serve well against the two-legged swine that lurked in these woods sometimes.   Concerned for her father, Katja grabbed the sword & ran after him. His trail was easy to follow, for the muleâs shoes left clear prints in the duff. Katja quickly caught up, but she only found the mule, tied to a tree with itâs nose in a feed bag. Torr must have found some sign of game and begun tracking it.   Clutching her fatherâs sword, Katja searched the ground for some clue as to where he had gone. An overturned leaf, a bent twig, a scraped patch of moss, all led her along a twisting game trail. Moving silently so as not to spook whatever her father was stalking, Katja caught a glimpse of him just as he let fly with the spear. It flashed through the air like a bolt of lightning. * * *   Ambling casually through the woods, Torr kept an eye on the ground & an ear open for anything moving nearby. After an hour or so, a distant crack froze Torr in his tracks. Listening carefully, his ears caught the faint rustling of something foraging in the underbrush. With a gentle hush, he tied up his mule and began tracking his quarry.   A hoofprint in seeping moss told Torr that his prey was a stag, and a big one. Moving with infinite patience, he crept slowly closer, until he could hear it chewing on the other side of a thicket. As Torr was angling around the end of the brambles, the stag caught his scent, or rather Katjaâs scent, for her virgin nectar had dried in her fatherâs beard.   The stag stood alert, and Torr saw itâs antlerâs rise above the brambles. By Thor, it was a fourteen point! Suddenly it bolted, & Torr sprung into a sprint with a curse. The stag easily outdistanced him in a couple bounds, but Torr saw a fallen log ahead. He knew that when the stag cleared the brambles, it would have to jump that log, and he could watch itâs mighty rack over the top of the brambles.   With a prayer to Thor, Torr cast his spear as hard as he could at the empty space above the log. It sailed clear & true, glittering in the dappled forest light as it flew & met the stag at the top of itâs leap. Torr gasped at the sight & stumbled, eating a faceful of leaves. He scrambled to his feet & hesitantly stepped forward.   The stag lay on the forest floor, gasping itâs last breath. The spear had pierced itâs snow whit hide right behind the shoulder, & bright red blood flowed from the wound, staining the shimmering pelt.   Torrâs heart fell. He had killed a white stag. Such beasts were reserved for the gods alone. Retribution was always swift for a mortal who dared slay one. Knowing his fate was sealed, Torr hardly flinched when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.   He turned to see a tall old man in a tattered grey cloak & wide battered hat. He leaned on a spear as fine as the one Torr & Katja had made, and one ice-blue eye gleamed like a star from under the brim of the hat. His voice rumbled like distant thunder.   âYou have killed a sacred beast, mortal!â   âIt was a blind throw, my lord,â protested Torr, âI didnât know.â   âFool! Do you think to deceive me?â The single eye flashed like lightning & the hair on Torrâs arms stood on end. âMy ravens hear all & see all. Do you know who I am? Do you think that you do not deserve your fate? I am the Master of Wyrd, and I say your mortal life ends here, now.â   Torrâs knees turned to jelly. He stood face to face with Odin, the Allfather, and he knew. Torr remembered the two ravens, always watching, and he realized this god knew everything he had done. He drew a deep breath, expecting it to be his last, and he waited for the blow to fall.   âRetrieve your spear, Hunter,â Odin commanded.   Torr grasped the shaft, but he hesitated to defile the sacred stagâs hide with his boot, but he was damned anyway. He placed his foot on the beastâs ribs & heaved.   Agony! It felt like he pulled the spear from his own chest. Torr fell to the ground, bellowing in pain. Aside from the wound that bloodied his ribs, his head felt like it was tearing apart, and his feet felt like they were being crushed with hammers.   He waited for oblivion to engulf him, but it didnât. Actually, the pain seemed to be subsiding. With a groan, Torr sat up, but his head felt strange & swung wildly. He clutched at it & was shocked to find something growing out of his skull. Groping blindly, he discovered it was a huge rack of antlers.   Looking around quickly, he saw that the stag was gone. There was only him, lying in a pool of blood, and Odin watching him with a cruel smirk on his face. Torr tried to stand, but stumbled & fell again. He looked at his feet & saw they had been turned to hooves. His legs from the thighs down were those of a stag, although his fur was the same brown of his hair, not the white of the stag he had killed.   âI have a job for you,â said Odin, and with a thunderclap, he & Torr vanished.   Katja had watched the whole scene, paralyzed with fear for her father. When he disappeared, she screamed, âNo!â And ran forward to where he had been. All that remained was his spear & a darkening pool of blood.End of Part 1
