Gonad the Barbarian and His Sword

Into the kingdom of Ilkla Moor Bah'tat, into the city of G'ynitalia, in the province of G'onnherrea rode Gonad, proud barbarian from the northern climes. His face etched in a terminal scowl, his sword always at the ready, and a hardon permanently in erection. A bloodstained sky behind an ominous moon provided a backdrop as he urged his horse on.The captive boy he'd rescued from the white-slave caravan, now blugeoned to oblivion, hung onto Gonad, as the man-giant spurred his horse on toward the city.

The boy was still splattered by the gore of his captives, decorating his virgin-white off-the-shoulder tunic, with grey matter, brains, and strawberry blood, congealing. Gonad had wiped him off and P'eenis, as the boy was named, told of a reward to be garnered from his father, governor of the city, rich, as it lay at the intersection of two major trading routes.

Gonad thought, through beetle-brows, of fucking the kid, now sixteen summers old, ripe, just his type, but decided that there would be more money, if the kid's ass was still virgin,.when he delivered him back to his father. And he knew there'd be men in the tavern, and those he didn't kill, might provide sport, an evening's entertainment and a night of anal amusement, be perfectly willing to be bent-over and satiate his lust withal. Anyway the kid's hand had dutifully found its way under Gonad's studdedcod-piece, under the furry loin cloth, found Gonad's cock-sword and held on tight. By-the byes, maybe Gonad could get the money and then fuck the kid afterwards.

P'eenis smelled the sun-warmed leather skin of his rescuer's bronzed back, the giant with long raven-black hair and a leopard tooth necklace which dangled around the barbarian's brawny shoulders, and P'eenis had to hold tight, as the horse galloped homeward. Squeezing on a snake whose belly was iron.

He inhaled the strong manly aroma of his liberator's body, who had executed his deliverance from the thralling throes of the evil serpent-like men, swarthy and cruel ones, that had stolen him from the street, blanket wrapped, bundled him up like cabbage in a carpet, pushed him into the rude baggage cart and whisked him away.

They had taunted him later, with a wicked dagger held to his throat, as they made a stop-over at the oasis. His hands bound, ankles too, his head pulled back as they let a trickle of water, dribble down an oily hand, so he could swallow and not die of thirst in the blistering heat. But dimly, through the sun-haze, he'd glimpsed a small black shape, that grew larger, riding toward them. The evil S'ar'acen men's attention was totally diverted as they fondled his youthful body, his secret places, and they failed to notice the approach of the dark rider. They spoke in a guttural language, that he didn't understand, but realized the words were vulgar, foul, bestial and threatening. He screamed. They were taken aback, not by the scream, but by having their heads lopped off, split head to crotch, impaled two at a time by the man, that later P'eenis found was named Gonad; barbarian.

He sat scrunched against the man, trying to keep awake, closing his eyes, trying to forget the sickening images that would be burned into his memory forever. He clung tight on Gonad's maleness, too big to fit entirely in his grasp.

Dusk became evening, evening became twilight, twilight became a memory, turning into night. Shadowed clouds covered the moon, but eventually the glow of light from the city of G'ynitalia came in view. The sound of the hooves became louder as the terrain moved from sand to road, ground down by wheels of many a wagon that had passed by this way. The time-worn old city beckoned them welcome.

Gonad rode through the timbered gates, slowing down, finally coming to a stop in front of what seemed like a welcoming hostelry. He tied up Bucephalus, the tired, steaming, sweaty horse, his long-time companion to the hitching post. The boy was fast asleep, so Gonad lifted him down gently, would find the boy a bed, and wait for tomorrow to re-unite him with his father. He went back downstairs and ordered "Dragon's Blood"; the house's cheap liquor; "Tiger Urine" would've been a far better name. But as he quaffed it down, it slid easily down his throat, and managed to slake his thirst. He fed on the flesh of roasted boar, tearing hungrily at the flesh and ordered more Dragon Urine, by now, he was becoming accustomed to its taste. His appetite was satiated, but hungry was his sexual craving. He needed to stick his broad, long cock into the warm, wetness of a compliant ass-hole.

He surveyed the bar, staring intently at the large Nebon, the portly Androg'yn and finally let his gaze fall on the lean, muscular Phagocyte at the end-table talking to nondescript S'odomite. Gonad walked over. He flexed his big pectorals, rippling his nipples, and his erection,concealed, pointed at his quarry. He ripped the chair from under the fat trader, who fell sharply to the floor, and was unceremoniously kicked away. The bronzed giant sat face to face with the surprised stripling. Nineteen summers old, thought Gonad. Looked good enough to have been painted by a Fr'azzetta, blond, leonine, and adorably bubble butted. He took the blond's flagon and drank deeply. The S'odomite complained, a fist cracked his skull and he complained no more. Introductions were briefly made, the blond, called Skrotum, smiled, laughed and looked apprehensive and agreed to accompany with Gonad, upstairs to the rented room. They walked off together up the rickety staircase, Gonad opened the door, let the Phagocyte enter, yes, the blond would do. The attic had two beds and with P'eenis asleep on one, the men moved to the other.

Skrotum, dressed in typical Phagocyte manner, took off a short seagreen robe, undid a thin leather belt blazed with a fat opal jewel at the buckle, removed the maroon doublet, revealing a developed golden torso and unlaced the white clouts around his loins, displaying a delicate mushroom topped sex organ, that was unblemished by the surgeon's knife, long, slightly tapering to a silky smooth pendulous ball-sac below, gently downed with straw-colored fur. Gonad grunted admiringly.

P'eenis could barely see through the slits of his half-closed eyes, barely able, but watched intently as Gonad remove his coverings, and almost fainted when he saw that which he'd only held onto just a short time before. He watched Gonad throw the youth back on the bed, belch, and ride over his companion's lean, muscled body with massive hands. P'eenis trembled, twitched, but feigned sleep. What were the adults doing? He watched the blond youth, maybe only a little older than himself, cup Gonad's large testicles in his hands, watched as the youth made a two-handed tunnel that Gonad's huge dick found the entrance to, an watched as the youth locked fingers and began to rhythmically rub up and down.

P'eenis stopped breathing, his eyelids opened wider as the two men, inverted themselves and placed each other's cocks in respective mouths and sucked each other with motions that reminded him of the horse-back ride earlier. The men made muffled noises, muffled by slurping sounds and heavy breathing.Sweatily exerting, swallowing, gorging, almost as if in a cannabalistic dervish dance. Then a strange, wondrous thing happened. P'eenis would never have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own now wide-open eyes. The action had suddenly frozen, and P'eenis could see the youth suddenly squirm, buck, as Gonad on top, pulled the stripling's cock out of his mouth, and the cock spurted, no, gushed out a fountain of some milk-white liquid, that splashed and bathed Gonad's face, dripping, forming rivulets of the stuff,that trickled down his face, over the throat, finally spilling on Gonad's magnificent male breasts.

The younger man groaned and shook and grasped hard on Gonad's globular, steel-hardened butt-cheeks and yelled a Phagocyte oath, that P'eenis dearly would've loved to heard translated. Gonad sat the blond youth up on the bed, who seemed to be drunk now, and Gonad turned the boy over, hung his upper body on the cheap material of the bed-cover, his knees on the floor, the soles of his feet upward. He spread wide the youth's thighs, and pushed two fingers in the Phagocyte's ass-hole, all the way in, up to the knuckles. P'eenis had a clear view now, and found to his surprise his own comparatively small pecker growing large in his hand and he gripped it tightly.

Like a man from a standing start, running and then jumping to mount a horse, P'eenis watched Gonad do the same to the young male, only instead of landing on the boy's back, Gonad drove his monstrous cock and rammed it in and up into the youth's behind. Gonad clamped a fist on the Skrotum's mouth and so stifled a scream. Then he started to hump with his clenched buttocks, powerful enough to crack walnuts and drove into the squirming youth, pumping in and out with a barbarous ferocity; slam, slamming, grunt, grunting; pulling and poking his cocksword into the ass-sheath that seemed too small to contain any thing larger than a dick-dagger. Suddenly the violent activity stopped and Gonad bellowed and again the creamy splurt splattered everywhere.

P'eenis had matched Gonad's exertions with a similar motions, hand on dick, and found to his surprise that he could manufacture the white liquid, the same as the stuff he'd seen too much of only moments before. He fell into a drowsy sleep, too tired to be disturbed by Gonad's heavy snoring, too tired, to see the youth look over at him, give a sign of recognition, and woke too late, as the Phagocyte covered his mouth and carried him away from the tawdry room; taking him from the protection ofGonad the Barbarian.

Sphinxter, Priest of Testis, worshipper of Ph'allus, practioner ofthe dark arts, stared longingly at the boy spread-eagled, shackled tothe ceremonial sacrificial altar. The black metal wristlets, anklets,chains,the black streaked marble, the boy's white skin, golden curls and blood-red lips, pink tongue, pink cock, pink balls, white ass, colors that mingled,illuminated by the flaming torches, the only light in the somber interior. The boy was exhausted having screamed himself to silence, but still quivered in terror.

The price had been high, but virgins had been increasingly hard tocome by, so he'd paid the Phagocyte, with silver, enough to buy afleet of longships, or small kingdom out in U'retha, a thousand milesaway in the East.

Sphinxter, Priest of Testis, worshipper of Ph'allus, cleanedaway the boy's faeces ejected by fear, wiped away the urine the boyhad emitted, wrang out the cloth containing the liquid excrementinto a golden bowl, and drank deeply, wiping away the slight spillage from his withered lips, with a bony, bejeweled hand, aged, wrinkled, veined and brittle.

He would eat the boy's penis and savor as he crunched the eggs hidden inside the scrotal sac, and would become young again, as long as he made no mistake in the grave incantation, that he had learned by rote, from the tome he'd discovered in a rival's library. Magically restoring youth to old age. The transformation from wrinkled crone to handsome stud wouldn't last long; he would have to find another male virgin and repeat the process; and boy virgins were getting harder to find. But this boy would do for now, and he would relish every moment of the ritual.

Gonad awoke, a little bleary, looked around the room, and discovered he'd lost his nest-egg. He blazed with anger as he figured out what had occurred.

He strode out into the street having found out Phagocyte's whereabouts from the bartender who didn't want to be pummeled any more.

Three thieves pounced on Gonad in an alley, slamming him into the mud and slime. Gonad fought back and then there were two crushed troll-like men dead at his feet, the third forced to give Gonad a breakfast-time blowjob before being hurled, comatose, on top of his erstwhile comrades.

Skrotum the Phagocyte was enjoying the warmth of the bath, dreaming of how best to spend his newly acquired riches. Maybe he'd buy a bevy of Nebons, from the slave auction and create a harem and waste away his days having sex all day, all night long. He started to stroke his elegant cock, bathing in the luxuriant water. But his cock and hand were gone, he felt great pain, as Gonad eunuched him.

"Tell me where the boy is. Unless you want to lose more of your anatomy." Gonad hissed.

"The tower.. the tower of Sphinxter." he whispered and collapsed.

Gonad tossed off, and threw up a rope, high up and the claw tied to the end caught a ledge, and climbed up, entered a window, and landed lightly, sword in hand. Through a marbled corridor, an oaken door, that creaked slightly, Gonad stealthily crept. He smelt incense, moved on and found an unspeakable sight.

He saw a wizened figure, surmounting the boy P'eenis, his head bowed over the boy's privates, mouthing an in-canting mantra.

"Fe'llatio, none of K'ondom, Urrgasm, Lord of most, king of K'aarnal K'nowledge, Dr'ian Gr'aye, give unction to your servant, he most worthy."

Gonad moved forward, blade at the ready, calculating the angle for the disembowelment, when an odor reached his nostrils, that was familiar, yet over-powering. The priest turned toward him, unafraid. He raised a bony finger and curled itself repeatedly, with a come-hither motion. Gonad span around and spied a slithering monster, half Gila, half a nineteen feet tall uncircumcised phallus, dripping green slime.

Smegma, unholy, fat, turgid, purple veined, moving slug-like entering, lurching, dragging armored testicles behind, blind but for one eye, which spied the intruder. It coiled back, rose high, whipped down, and if Gonad hadn't been fast enough to leap away would have crushed him, right then and there.

It coiled back again, and when Gonad thrust his sword into Smegma's underbelly, seemed to laugh, amused by the pin-prick. Gonad grabbed a fiery brand, but as the flames scorched the unholy flesh, the damage was as little as as sunburn, to the monstrous, evil, threshing cock.

"Fool!" cried Sphinxter, the crone like wizard, "He is impervious to pain. Smegma has only one thought, and that is your death, barbarian!"

The monster rose and thwacked at Gonad, but ever lithe, able to thwart the monstrous blows. But with courage and adroitness, the lone barbarian jumped and clambered upon the foul creature's back. Smegma angry, tried to throw off the hairless ape, smash him against wall, but Gonad too quick, evaded the attempt to squish him like fruitcake. He rode hard on the beast's back, unsure of what to do as Smegma thrashed, squirmed, pummeled and pounded to unseat his unwelcome jockey. His ugly foreskin rolled back, its head appeared, sponge like and insensitive and the hole centered in the exposed head screamed blasphemies. Gonan hugged tight, a precarious rider, as Smegma thrashed, buffeted until Gonad felt a strange pulsing between his thighs.The creature was coming to orgasm. Smegma, moribund, overexcited, belched his ejaculation from his U'rethal slit. A gelatinous green, puce colored liquid shot forth, drenching the foul priest Sphinxter, captured in in the viscous substance, dried, hardened and trapped the foul priest in green-amber. The monster collapsed, writhed, twitched and fell faint on the floor. Gonad sprang off, picked out his sword, stood to see if there were any more danger from the now flaccid beast.

He rescued P'eenis, broke the chains in twain, and carried him out the window and down the rope to the safe earth below.

They ran through the scented garden grounds, looked back, saw smoke curl out of the window of the tower, intensify and erupt in a towering inferno. Gonad was old enough to play with firebrands and had initiated the conflagration. It was becoming his calling card.

P'eenis was able to stand, if a bit wobbly, and planted a smooching kiss on Gonad's mouth.

"I got to get you home kid, before anything more untoward happens."

Stealing a horse, Gonad took P'eenis back to the family home and re-united him, at last, with his father.

"I the governor, G'luteus M'aximus give you my everlasting thanks. Thank you for returing my P'eenis. Take any of my earthly possessions, what I have is yours."

"I'll take the kid."

Bad call, big mistake. Which explains why Gonad ended up in the dungeons, in the bowels of the Governor's mansion, bound in chains, manacled to the floor. But when the gaoler came to feed him today's slop, Gonad could already feel putting his his hands around the throat, expiring the life out of the fat slug. It wouldn't take long, and he'd escape, way off to Shadizar, a place of welcome, where he'd feel right at home. Get out of G'ynitalia, get out of G'onnherrea, go back to Phagocyte land, that was the plan. Make money. Write.

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written by davistrell