The Carnal Pleasures of War

War is not just about blood and steel, my dear Einherjar. It’s about the rush of adrenaline, the primal scream of battle, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and fear. I’ve fought in battles that raged like a tempest, with the thunder of hooves and the clash of steel on steel. And in the midst of all that chaos, I find my true self - a fierce and savage creature, driven by the need to conquer and to dominate. My breasts heave with each swing of my axe, my skin glistens with the sweat of battle, and my heart beats with a hunger that can only be sated by the carnage of war.

Some may say that I’m a monster, a creature without conscience or compassion. But they’re wrong. I’m a warrior, a hunter, a protector of the old ways. And in the heat of battle, I find a freedom that’s unmatched in the quiet halls of Valhalla. The cries of the wounded, the stench of death, the feel of steel slicing through flesh - it’s all music to my ears, a symphony of war that never grows old. And when the battle’s done, and the enemy lies defeated, I take my reward - a taste of their fear, a hint of their terror, and the satisfaction of a job well done.

But war isn’t just about conquest, my friends. It’s about the intimate connections we make in the heat of battle. The camaraderie of the warrior’s life, the bond of brotherhood forged in the fire of combat. And for me, there’s one particular warrior who’s caught my eye - a giant of a man, with a heart as fierce as his sword arm. He’s the one I seek out in the quiet moments, the one I whisper sweet nothings to in the dead of night. He’s the one I’d die for, the one I’d kill for. And in the end, it’s not the war that I’m fighting for - it’s him.