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Barbarian to the Rescue Ch. 01

By: sabb



"Rescue my son, and you can have your freedom," the Moghul's great general had said to me.

And now I clung to the top of the ruined wall that surrounded the rough cobbled yard in which the wiry Mongolian horsemen were holding him. The general's son was one of many the general had, but Kasim had been made a prince as he was the most handsome and most intelligent. And all knew he was a favourite of the Great Moghul himself, as well as of his father, the Moghul's great general.

Before I left the palace I had been shown a picture of Kasim. One painted by a great artist, to enable me to identify the prince when I found him. Because I had been a prisoner in the Moghul's dungeons, and had never seen the young prince who I was supposed to rescue. In the painting his golden skin and glossy black hair were perfect, and short glossy curls also cascaded across his chest, circling his dark nipples and descending in an arousing trail down his belly. To disappear below the waist of his baggy pants. I had felt my cock engorging at the image of him, and the general had pulled aside my tented loincloth to see my famous tool. I was well known in certain parts of the Moghul's palace for my manhood being as thick as that of a fine stallion, if not as long.

My brief imprisonment had not been very onerous, as I'd had a number of grateful visitors come to my cell, and leave satisfied. But the great general had not been one. Now he grasped my weapon in his short fingered hands and his eyes widened as the feel of his hands about me made me fill out further, and harden to almost my full potential. 

His head fell to my pole and I gripped his jewelled turban as he moved his mouth over my big bulbous cock head. I grunted as his two hands strained to encircle me and his tongue played all about the small part of my length that he had inside his mouth. He pulled away before I shot my juice, and called over a fine tall warrior who had visited me privately and who now came over, trembling and smiling at me. 

"I am curious to see if a man can truly take such a massive weapon," the great general said, "And as I know this young pasha claims to have visited you to have you bury your sword inside him, I wish to see if he can take it now."

The young nobleman stripped of his rich uniform as ordered, and lay forward over the back of a fine carved chair, inlaid with ivory, and many coloured woods. He gripped the arms with his hands, and turned his head to look over his shoulder at me with fear and longing, as I moved between this spread thighs. I used spit and my thick fingers to prepare him as the watching general pulled out his own stiff organ, and began to stroke it. 

The young pasha opened quickly to me, as I knew he would from our previous meetings. And I rapidly had him moaning and arching his back and opening his legs wider, begging me to plunge my huge sword into him. I stroked his own tool briefly and he spouted across the floor in big spurts. And I heard the general moan as he became more excited at seeing this. 

In spite of my fingering of his entrance and his passage I had to hold my weapon steady to drive it's domed head into the pasha's loosened hole. He cried out loudly, and writhed and opened himself wider, as my cap passed the barrier at his entrance. Then he gulped and whimpered as I forced my rod in deeper, relishing the tightness with which his channel embraced me. 

The general came, watching intently as I bottomed inside the young man to the combined sound of the nobleman's loud cries of pain and desire, and the general's crying out his amazement that anyone could take me fully, as the young man was doing. My fucking of the yelping young pasha was brief, as I had not had a visitor for two days, and I filled him happily with a goodly load of my seed. I was roaring as I came, accompanied by his high pitched cries of ecstasy as he felt his insides being truly flooded. 

I shortly after departed the palace on a fast horse, relaxed and able to concentrate on my task. I reached the small summer palace from which the young prince had been taken, and I gained hourly on his kidnappers. When I reached the hills though I abandoned my horse, and continued on foot, running easily across the rough ground for many miles until I caught up with the raiders at an old abandoned fort atop a rugged hill at the edge of the desert. The entrance was sealed with old rotting gates that offered little protection, but hid what was inside from me. So in the dark of early morning I climbed up the still strong but weathered stone wall of the fort to get a view of what lay inside. 

What greeted my sharp eyes was a small courtyard roughly cobbled and now home to a small Mongol raiding party. And I saw through a fallen archway another roofless space in which they had their small hardy desert horses stabled. And on the other side of the courtyard I saw their captive.

I moved in silence around the top of the wall until I was no more than 15 feet above the captive, but unfortunately some feet to one side, as the wall had an old section of roof jutting from it that would have hidden the captive from my sight had I moved closer. And there was little doubt that the travel stained and dusty young man tied up below me was the one I sought. 

His wrists were tied by a leather cord, his arms pulled up above his head and the cord secured to a beam in the section of roof that remained above him. His rich clothes were dirty and torn in places, his jewelled belt gone, his turban gone, and his dark hair dusty and hanging to his shoulders. His many silk shirts hung about him in layers as did his fine silken baggy pants. His feet were bare, stripped of their jewelled slippers, and just touching the ground. 

But as yet there was nothing I could safely do to rescue him. I was alone and the 6 Mongol horsemen were standing about with their short swords in their belts and their bows, with thier quivered arrows, on their backs. And their knives handy in the narrow belts that ran across their chests. I would have to wait for nightfall for a chance to rescue the general's son. 

I lay hidden and patient in a hollow in the top of the yard thick wall. Watching and waiting through the heat of the day. After a time the one I took to be the leader of the Mongols by his fine furred boots and richly embroidered vest, stepped up to the young prince and spoke to him, and I listened intently to catch his words.

"I Tiro will have your aching arms lowered so that you can write that letter to your father, and they will stay lowered from then on and you will be free to walk about the camp," the Mongol leader Tiro said. 

"I will never write a letter begging my father to ransom me," hissed the young prince in reply, and he spat at the Mongol. 

The young prince was brave, but foolish. I was frustrated as I did not want him harmed before I could rescue him, but there was no way I could reveal my presence to him now. 

Tiro wiped his hand across his dark face, and then gave the prince the back of that hand, and I heard the slap as it met his face and turned it aside. I doubted the young prince had ever known real danger before and hoped he did nothing else that was foolish. 

But the Mongol lord was no fool either. He did not want his prize damaged seriously. 

"I will have you write again to your father, this time telling him that you are alive still. But that you wont be, if he doesn't send the gold I have asked him for," Tiro said, as he removed his fancy leather vest, his bow, his sword, and his thick belts. 

That done, Tiro stepped back up to the prince. "We will see if I can make you beg me to allow you to write to your father," he said, and smiled an evil smile.

The young prince looked at him with defiance. "Never," he said loudly.

Then the Mongol took hold of the prince's golden outer coat and ripped it from him, the prince exclaiming in anger. Then Tiro took hold of the next layer and ripped that open too, then he did the same to the next layer, and again and again, until prince Kasim's sweating golden chest wiht its patter of black gloy curls was exposed between the layers of torn fabric hanging at his sides. 

The Mongol leader then moved his hands to the young prince's chest and stroked it. And he worried the dark nipples with his fingers, pinching and flicking at them, till the young prince jerked and cried, "I will never write to my father for you." But Tiro merely continued rolling both nipples between his fingers and smiled evilly at Kasim 

Then his captor walked behind Kasim and did the same again, tearing open the back of each shirt, until the prince stood with the rags of his finery hanging from his shoulders and fluttering like streamers in the breeze. 

"I will never beg you," the young prince cried out through clenched teeth, as Trio ran his hands over Kasim's back and nipped and tongued his neck and shoulders. 

The Mongol, Tiro, laughed, and tore the silken strips from Kasim's golden body, the princes body jerking as the fabric was ripped from his shoulders. And between tearing the brightly coloured silken strips away Tiro worried the young princes nipples and stroked his hands over his body in an intimate way. In a short time the prince stood there naked from the waist up. His muscular torso glistening with sweat and his chest heaving rhythmically as he breathed. 

"Never", he said proudly, averting his eyes from Tiro's face.

The Mongol bent his head and sucked loudly on the prince's large dark nipples as the prince writhed and yelped, "Never, never." 

Then his captor took hold of the waist of prince Kasim's baggy pants and tore the outer ones open so they fell down about his ankles. Then he tore the waist of his under ones and they too fell about his ankles. And Tiro laughed a deep laugh of pleasure. As now the young prince stood there all but naked, his golden skinned muscular torso running down into his tight narrow hips. And the black glossy curls running down his belly, past his navel, to the lush jungle surrounding his long engorged cock and large balls. 

I was most impressed by what I now saw of the young prince. What had been hidden was as good as what had been on display in the painting I had seen. Yes, he was a very fine young man. And I saw with some interest that his cock was almost fully engorged. I reached under my loincloth and stroked my own growing tool. But I also worried at where the Mongol's treatment of the young prince might be leading. 

"I will not help you to get your ransom from my father," the naked captive cried out bravely. "I will never write a letter to him for you."

Tiro laughed, and stepped up to the young prince and took hold of Kasim's long manhood and began running both his hands up and down it, and fingering and stroking his thumb over the cap. 

The prince struggle and kicked, and two other raiders were waved in to hold his feet still, which they did. But I also noticed that they parted his legs as they held them. And the Mongol leaders hands had not left young prince Kasim's goodly sized pole.

Then one of Tiro's hands went under Kasim's balls and back between the prince's legs. And I also saw the hand of one of the men holding his feet down go up to the prince's firm round ass and disappear, and knew that both were now fingering the young prince's hole.

Their fingers had barely entered him though when Kasim cried out and shot his load all over his captor. And I shot mine, my roar choking in my throat. Whatever result the Mongol leader had expected it was obvious the young prince was enjoying what was being done to him. 

The Mongol leader then pulled his own erect and throbbing tool free of his pants and stroked it over Kasim's belly and thighs, before moving behind the prince and stroking it over his cheeks. Then I saw him place his thick stubby rod to the prince's arse and stroke it up and down between the cheeks and over his entrance. 

Then Tiro knelt behind the prince, parting his firm round butt and sending his tongue down to Kasim's puckered gate of pleasure. A gate I myself was now eager to open and enter. It was not long till Tiro stood again and placed a hand on Kasim's belly to hold him back as he began to feed his weapon in. The prince pulled on his restraints, and rotated his hips and gave small cry's that sounded more like ones of pleasure than pain, as the Mongol leaders thick tool progressed inside him. 

Once his captor was in and had begun to pump him the young prince moved his hips back and forth in eagerness, joining the bandits plowing and making the fucking he was getting even deeper and more pleasurable for both of them.

It was not long before another member of the band came forward and swallowed Kasim's refilling tool, and began to suck and slurp on it as he cupped the princes balls and stoked his inner thighs. The young prince was moaning and begging, but he was begging loudly for thicker and deeper, not to write a letter to his father. 

I saw the Mongol leader jerk as he shot his juice deep into the young prince's belly. And I heard Kasim cry out at the feel of it filling him, and jerk in turn as he filled the mouth of the Mongol raider giving his weapon attention. 

The Mongol pulled out and whispered to the prince, and stroked his hands over his belly and chest and sucked on his nipples. 

Finally I heard the young prince moaning, "Yes, yes." 

The Mongol laughed and waved an arm, and a man came hurrying over bearing a flat board carrying a piece of parchment and pen and ink. The young prince's arms were released from their bonds, and once they had eased and he could use his hands, he wrote shakily but quickly. 

The Mongol seemed very pleased that Kasim had done as he was asked at last. 

Then prince Kasim was tied up again. But the cord attaching him to the sturdy beam overhead was lengthened, allowing him to move about a little, and sit down. But now prince Kasim was also shouting at the Mongol leader that he had been lied to, and was cursing the bandit leader Tiro in ways that I, a simple barbarian, had never heard before. 

The bandit leader threw his head back and laughed, then said loudly, "Foolish prince, we have no man here as well hung as Konan the barbarian. He is a giant and his weapon's size is legendary throughout the desert. And even if you could take him, he lies in the great Moghul's cells, captured a month ago by your father." 

With that the Mongols moved away and took little notice of Kasim, except to laugh at his antics as he kicked about, and tugged, and tried to chew through his bonds. 

To be continued. . . 

Barbarian to the Rescue Ch. 02



The great General's favourite son Prince Kasim, had been kidnapped, and was being held for ransom by a party of wild Mongol raiders. They had carried him off to an abandoned fort in the rocky hills at the edge of the great desert plains. There the Mongol's leader had fucked the helpless young prince well, as the prince cried out for more. And he had then told Kasim that one of his raiders had a weapon as large as the famous barbarian Konan's, and the man would fuck him as well as the barbarian could. But first Kasim had to agree to write the letter to his father begging for a large ransom to be paid for his release.

The letter done, the Mongol bandits leader laughed at the idea any of his tribesmen could be hung like the great barbarian Konan. The prince was left in the dust humiliated, as one of the Mongol tribesmen mounted his small tough horse, tied the lead of a spare beast to his saddle, and rode off towards the great Moghul's palace with the ransom request.

****

Once the tribesman had ridden off with the letter I had so foolishly written, the rest of the raiding party relaxed about a small cooking fire and played a game among themselves, while drinking frequently from a skin full of some potent brew.

I felt shamed and humiliated, truly humiliated. And worse, I would have killed myself just then had I had the means available to me. For years I had tried to suppress my desire for other men, my old teacher whom I had so admired, had made it clear that desires such as mine were unworthy of a noble prince. I had longed not to become like my father's favourites. They were all fine men in body, and good fighters, true, but to lie beneath another man moaning and begging for him to fill them was not worthy of a fine prince. If I had been like my father - who rode men fiercely - well, that would have been most acceptable to me. 

Finally in desperation I had retreated to the small palace from which I had been kidnapped. I had gone there to pray and study, and immerse myself in good teachings. To be celibate and overcome my urges. 

In the great Moghul's palace there were far too many temptations, and the many beautiful wives I had in my harem were never able to quench my other desires. Ah. So I had retreated. Though my lustful dreams had followed me even there. As had tales. 

Yes. I have to confess that I had dreamt of being taken by Konan the great barbarian, of feeling his immense sword of steel hard manflesh entering me, and possessing my body. Always in my dreams he gave me a pleasure and aroused in me a passion I could not control.

Oh. I was so humiliated. And I wondered how the rough Mongol leader had known my secret desire. As he drove his thick tool into my inexperienced, but no, certainly not virgin ass, he had said the name Konan, and I had quivered and spouted my seed. It was enough. Just that name. Oh, I was so wretched. And then he said he had one in his party as well hung as the great Konan, and that this man would take me if I wrote the small letter to my father. That was all I had to do, and the Mongol tribesman with a sword and balls such as the great Konan had would be mine. My flesh was weak. I moaned my answer, "Yes. Yes" and wrote out the letter in a daze of lust. Ah. 

Now I was tied at wrist and ankle, and attached to the stout timbers above me, as I lay naked in the dust among the shreds of my fine clothes. Meanwhile my kidnappers were getting drunk on some rough wine they had. And soon, I thought, oh soon they will come and include me in their games. And, oh. I wish it were otherwise, but as I lie there even my own manhood betrays me as I think this. It is telling me that it hears my thoughts, oh, in the moonlit courtyard I feel my organ move and grow. My hand longs to reach for it and stroke it to it's throbbing release. 

Stop. Stop. Unfaithful weapon of mine, I beg. And I think of the humiliation I have brought to myself, by moaning for Konan, by begging my father to ransom me . My father, who is a great man and a fine general, and yes, my noble father. Oh. I wish I could end my miserable life.

Then. Well then there was a sudden confusion in the open place where I was tied up. I saw a blur, a blur of muscle and flesh. Or I confess, I thought perhaps a demon had entered the courtyard. It was there beside me, hot and smelling of man and heat. Whatever it was it cut my bonds and dragged me to my feet, but to add humiliation on humiliation I was frozen with fear. Yes, I a noble prince, from a line of great warriors, stood there unbound and free, was making no attempt to escape. And I stood with my mouth gaping open as the massive man creature disappeared into the shadow of the fort's high stonewall. But I traced his movement along it until he disappeared into the smaller area where the raider's horses were tethered and feeding. 

In a few moments there was a flash and the crackle of flame, and the small but solid horses ran in a panic into the courtyard. The raiders staggered to their feet and tried to make some sense of what was happening, and some were trampled beneath the hooves of the panicked beasts. I stood transfixed as one of the horses ran towards me and the man on it's back reached down and swept me up and into his lap as he passed. Leaving only dust and rags where I had been standing. 

We raced to the entrance gate and I shouted, "No", in fear, as I saw the rickety timbers barring our escape from the courtyard. But the wild terrified horses that were loose were already running to it before us, as they could see the moon and freedom through the spaces in it. So that in a few moments the timbers were nothing but splintered firewood and we followed the escaping beasts through, and onto the stony track that led down the mountain and back to the road into the valleys below. And beyond that, to home. 

But I was held into the chest of a madman, or perhaps a demon. I stayed held there, on that wild ride down from the old fort until my rescuer, or the demon, pulled off the track into a pile of large boulders and slipped to the ground.

I had wild thoughts of kicking the horse on and escaping my rescuer, but he held the horse's reigns tightly, and I knew the beast was already tired from the fright it had had, and from then carrying the two of us down the mountain. 

Then the demon spoke, "We must change horses here, my fine young Kasim" he said in a deep rumbling voice, his breath rapid and his scent stronger than ever. 

"Who are you," I asked, suddenly finding my tongue, "Who are you that you know my name. Are you another kidnapper?"

Having felt the heat of him and his skin against me, and seen his form close up now, I knew for certain he was no demon.

He laughed a deep laugh and threw me a piece of cloth, which I realised was to hide my nakedness, which I had forgotten about in the wild rush down the mountain.

"No. Quite the opposite. I want no more than to quickly return you to your father who has sent me to rescue you," my rescuer said, as he un-hobbled the fresh horses he had waiting, hidden there among the huge rocks. "If I return his favourite son to him I gain my freedom. And a barbarian such as me values that more highly than anything else."

I was amazed. By many things. There was much to confuse me about my father in what he said. And about who this stranger was that my father would trust him so.

"Barbarian, you know my name. And as you have saved me and my father the great General trusts you so. May I know your's?

"I am Konan. The one they call Konan the great barbarian."

When I heard this I was stunned, and horrified.

"No. You cannot be. No," I cried in disbelief. "No. Because of thoughts of you I have humiliated myself and written a letter begging my father to pay my ransom. Because of my dreams of you. . . .," in my confusion I knew not what to say. "If it was not for the longings and urges I wish I could cast off, I would not have been in the small palace where they kidnapped me so easily. If not for my humiliating desires I would not have run from the great Moghul's palace, or be here for you to rescue. And, and you would serve the just sentence given you for whatever crime you have committed." That last made me think what wrongs my desires had caused.

The barbarian laughed loudly as he mounted his horse and held the reigns of the other best waiting for me to mount it. "If you had allowed yourself to enjoy your natural urges instead of fighting them, you would be in the great Moghul's palace enjoying yourself and taking your rightful place at your father's right hand. He has many great men about him who have cried out for his seed to spill inside them. As some of them have also cried to me as he watched. Do not blame me, or those desires nature gave you for your misfortunes."

"You laugh," I replied angrily, "But no prince should long to be taken and possessed by another man. The honour. . "

"I am just a simple barbarian," Konan interrupted me by saying, "I understand only good and evil, pleasure and pain, honesty and lies. I try to do good when I have a choice, I take my pleasure where I find it, and I only lie to my enemies. And that has kept me a happy man for all my life. "

I mounted the horse he held for me and we rode off, but I was disturbed by his simple view of things. And I knew that he was right to say that it was my own fears and confusion that had led to me being the captive of the Mongol bandits. And realised belatedly that when selecting his generals my father did not overlook those men who took his manhood inside them. So that as we rode down the mountain to join the main road, I pondered what Konan had said.

We rode on into the dawn, till I was near falling from my horse with exhaustion and Konan seemed to be dozing as he rode. But he was instantly awake when we reached a small river we had to cross. And instead of crossing he took a path along the bank, going up-stream until he came to a clump of tall shady trees with soft grass beneath them, where we stopped. 

"It is time to rest." He said slipping from his horse, "So we stay here till evening. And then we will ride on in the cool of the night."

When the horses were watered and hobbled, Konan spread two rugs out on the soft ground. Then he drank from a water skin and while he drank water ran down his body glistening in the golden hair that adorned his muscular chest and belly. But none reached his loincloth and what lay behind it remained a mystery to me still. Then he passed the water to me and I drank thirstily, water spilling and running down my chest also, but going on and wetting my loincloth, so that my organs size and excited state was clearly revealed. 

I had been watching the great barbarian's muscular form for some time now and it was as perfect as a man's body could be. Bronze skinned, golden haired, muscular and agile. And I had some idea that the stories of how hard and long his manhood was were true. I was in turmoil inside, my own manhood telling me that my seed was in desperate need of release. My hole, yes my own asshole quivering at the closeness of him.

Then Konan stepped behind me and wrapped his arms about my belly and lifted me up and carried me to the rugs and lay me on my stomach. 

"What . . What are you. . ," I stammered, my tool pressed against the ground beneath me, and my thoughts confused.

His huge thighs straddled my hips and he sat back on my thighs pinning me beneath him. Then his big hands parted my ass cheeks, and I moaned. Moaned, knowing that he could see my dark puckered rim now, see the quivering entrance to the passage I wanted him to fill. 

Yes. I could not deceive myself, my desire was overwhelming. And after the long ride and my ponderings I knew that to fight my need to be possessed by men, would only ruin my life. 

"Take me." I cried. "Plunge your great weapon into me and conquer me."

Konan laughed happily as his fingers played briefly with my rim, then one entered me. I moaned and whimpered, wanting more, wanting his huge manhood inside me. That huge legendary weapon that it was claimed could split a man not prepared for it's entrance. But give unbelievable pleasure to any man who was ready and willing.

But the barbarian's fingers were as thick as many a man's weapon, and as long, and I moaned and panted as he stroked inside me with first one then two fingers, the entrance of that second one stretching me so, I let out a cry. Shortly though I was moaning for the way those fingers felt as they rubbed my spot. I was panting and dripping and writhing on the rug, trapped between his muscular thighs. But then Konan pulled my hips up, and back, so I was on my knees and my hand grasped my own tool and milked it.

"Yes," I cried. "Deeper," as Konan added a third finger to those playing inside my passage, causing me pain, but driving me wild till I was sending repeated spoutings of my seed across the rugs.

When I was spent my head collapsed to the ground, and I lay there, limp, my ass still raised and Konan's fingers still playing inside it. They were no longer stretching and hurting me, I had accepted them, and opened for them, and they slid easily in and out of me. And I moaned my pleasure. Yes, this was the pleasure my nature desired almost above all other pleasures of the flesh. 

The fingers left me then and I whimpered at the loss, the emptiness. But then I cried out "Now. Let me feel your great weapon possess me, I am what I am. This is what I want." And I felt a great load lift off my shoulders, as I cried that to the trees, and the river. 

And I felt fingers pulling my cheeks apart again, but now an impossibly large club head was pressing at my entrance, and I willed myself to relax. Konan kicked my legs further apart and his monstrous cock head was in the first way and I felt I might burst apart, it truly was so large. 

"You are too big " I cried in fear, "You are a giant, not a natural man. Ohhhh." 

But the great barbarian did not withdraw, he pulled my hips higher and with his knees pushed my thighs even further apart, opening me wider, and that massive head moved in deeper. Making me pant and cry out as it made its slow progress,while I reached to take my own sword in my fist again. And I moaned and whimpered, and his weapon moved a fraction further into me as I began to stroke myself. 

And as I did I looked along up my body, to my hand working my stiffening weapon and beyond I saw the great thighs of Konan between my spread legs and I saw his balls hanging down. Full and heavy, covered in golden hair. What a sight, a glorious sight. If only I could see his weapon too, I thought. But only its root was visible as it was making it's way painfully inside me, as I panted and moaned, and again cried out at how it was stretching and splitting me. 

"Oh." I moaned, "Oh. No. It's too big," 

But Konan never stopped. And however I moaned and cried out, I didn't want him to. For a while he was pressing and rubbing against that part of me that had my manhood throbbing and dribbling and I moaned and whimpered as he pumped me there in short pulses, and I came. Spilling seed again, and again, across the rug. 

Then he was some inches into me and I was bucking and arching, wanting him deeper but feeling a stretching that was painful as he progressed into me. 

It was some time before his great weapon had fully entered me. But finally he was in and I felt the glossy golden hairs that surrounded his manhood rubbing against my ass hole. Felt the touch of his huge balls. And I moaned in ecstacy. Yes, this was the greatest pleasure I had ever known.

But no. Then the powerful barbarian stood up holding my hips to his, his sword in me still, and I spread my legs and wrapped them about his as wide as I could and he placed a hand under my belly and lifted me and moved my body back and forth, so that I fucked myself on his great club. My body limp and nothing but a toy for him, as he made the fucking deeper. 

Then he leant back against a nearby tree and turned me on his club so that I was lying back and looking up at him. What a magnificent sight he was. He was buried deep inside me, but pulled my face to his so that his tongue could occupy my mouth in a rough wet kissing.

Then he was moving me back and forth, going in and out, and I saw at last that great thick club he had impaled me on, as it come out of me, and then it was driving in again and I screamed as the sight of it had frightened me. But again I saw that steel hard fiery club partly emerge, and again he drove it back, deeper. But now I only moaned and arched back, as I knew I had taken it and I wanted more of it. It touched and explored every part of my channel and I was in paradise. 

Konan's weapon moved in and out of me until it was noon, and then he threw his head back and roared as he shuddered and jerked, and I felt his hot seed flood me as his throbbing tool delivered it deep inside me. 

"Oh," I cried, overcome by the feel of it, that being a pleasure I had previously denied myself. "Oh, never before, never before. You are flooding me." No never before had I felt a man's seed flood me as Konan's did, and never since have I felt anything like it again. His seed was as prodigious as his organ was large. 

For three days, each time we stopped to rest the great barbarian took me, and worked his club inside my ass. And we slept that way, him buried in my now well stretched channel. A channel that never wanted to be empty. That can now take any man, of any size. 

But when he had delivered me to my father the great General, Konan was given his freedom. And he smiled at me but then turned away, and without a backward glance strode proudly out of the great Moghul's palace, out into the sun and fresh air of freedom.

And now that I am a man who knows himself, and what he is, and has no fear of it, I understand men of courage and how to lead and to inspire them. So that I have become a general also, almost as high as the great General is. And I take my place at the head of the great Moghul's armies now, just one step behind my proud father.