From: davistrell@aol.com (DavisTrell)
Subject: GONAD the Barbarian  sword&sword fantasy
Date: 3 May 1996 04:53:20 -0400

Gonad the barbarian   
by DavisTrell@aol.com

    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 spillagefrom his withered lips, with
a bony, bejewelled 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 incanting 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, pummelled and pounded to unseat his unwelcome jockey. His ugly
foreskin rolled back, its head appeared, sponge like and insenitive 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.