Legends collide

Chapter 6 King’s pet

Dark thoughts

Negative thoughts had been plaguing him increasingly in the past weeks of his enslavement. Among other things, how could he have been so naïve? With hindsight it was clear this was all part of some plot. These men had come looking for him, he had no idea why. But it was becoming clear that Tau was somehow at the heart of it.

Gundar sat huddled in the cramped darkness in his cage struggling to find some comfort in the tight confines of this dog kennel he was locked him in when the king had finished his nightly chore. How naïve! He’d walked straight into their snare. They’d put him on display, his strength had been mauled, his dignity man-handled. And that Tau, the good-looking one with perceptive eyes, - it had taken him little time to detect the side-effects of Gundar’s serum. He had played with him, experimenting, testing him. Learning, discovering. And now for weeks that Tau had been turning all that knowledge against him.

Gundar had had to submit to the indignity of this harness. Waiting his chance. Pretending to them he was being tamed. For never-ending weeks now, nightly the king had had his shameful way. Gundar’s manliness derided, his manhood constantly degraded. Gundar’s plan had been to bide his time looking for his chance to break free. But he spent his daytime in that yoke hauling water, he was shut here in this dog kennel at night. That elusive moment when someone might let down their guard seemed just as remote as ever.

Yet recently something different had happened. His throat burned like fury with the shame of taking the king’s seed down into his throat. But there had been progress? Hadn’t there? This something to work on? Wasn’t it?

Dark thoughts had continuously invaded his discomfort in the blackness of his caged nights. For weeks he had wondered would he ever get a chance. Would the legend that was Gundar ever be free again? Was this his destiny? His aching groin permanently their hostage.

But something different had happened. What it meant Gundar was not yet sure, how he could use it, - that trick still eluded him. At least, he told himself, he had not lost his strength, he was still Gundar. He could beat twenty men. He was still inexhaustible in hauling water. When the time came, his strength would not desert him.

At least in the kennel, they released him from that harness. Gundar thanked his gods for that. Overnight, the burning ache of an hours-long torture had the chance to subside. Yet even released, the force that still gripped him was so overwhelming sometimes he felt he could scarcely breathe. Like iron bands crushing the life-force out of his chest. Like a stranglehold that clutched at his throat. Even released from its body-crippling hold on his manliness, overnight Gundar could barely think. Never mind, think straight. And above all Gundar did need to think.Even when his hands reached for himself to give his tortured male urges some freedom, it was like they were still manipulating him. Even as he groaned at the pain of his grip working to release all that nervous energy raging through his blood, it felt he was still

their captive. Even as his life-force burst from his loins, Gundar knew his captors had willed that act upon him too.

Gripped in their vicious harness, he lost focus. He feared that his very being was obsessed by this aching power that threatened to cripple his strength of mind. A sexual power so strong that it was not his to command. His muscular thighs were slave to this invasive force. His bulging shoulders and knotted arms buzzed with an energy that was not in his charge, taken by the Amari beyond his control. A force so overwhelming he had to throw every resource of his resilient will into coping with it, battle against a physical force so strong it was almost enough to drive him insane. Fighting that force took so much out of him that it felt his loins had more control over him than he himself did. And that it was his body not his mind that had hold of his being. And that hateful harness did indeed control his powerful body. Gundar lost focus, neglecting sometimes the one driving force that was meaningful for his existence, the search for escape.

Yet still he had not lost that legendary strength, he kept assuring himself. The benefits of the serum never abandoned him, harness or no harness. He could still turn that wheel single handedly, he could do the work of two oxen without tiring. Proof that, when the time came, Gundar’s strength would not let him down.

Yet fighting that harness was getting increasingly hard. Over days, over weeks, his body was continuously betraying him. In the constant grip of that overwhelming sexual force. It hurt, his body hurt, his mind was weakened just as bad. His will was struggling to cope, minute-by-minute battling back against this power in his naked groin. Gundar dug deep into his reserves, grimacing uncomfortably in the cramped confines in an animal’s cage. He struggled to beat the creeping onset of dismay. He strove to overcome the nagging fear that this perpetual slavery to an ever-throbbing bondage would never end. That these cruel-minded enemies would indeed succeed in enslaving his supreme body. In times like this, in the depths of the night, Gundar sometimes hated the body he had become.

But that weakness was only a side-effect. And now, in the king’s chamber something new was happening. Gundar had to keep telling himself that he had to persist in pumping up his spirits to fight the over-powering power that surged from his loins. Maybe that first night when Olu’s behaviour had changed was the turning point. The king certainly came back nightly for more, seemingly never having enough of Gundar sucking him off. The serum had given Gundar the strength of twenty men. He had beaten them in the tug-of-war. Bound in that harness, struggling against their enforced torture, he could still do the work of two oxen without barely breaking into a sweat. When his moment came, bondage or none, his body would not let him down. He was Gundar. Gundar’s body could never let him down.

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Trust

Olu was beside himself. The power of this man-mountain’s mouth had his head in a permanent whirl. Olu could not understand the reason himself. What was it about the way that man-beast took him in his mouth? And overwhelmed every moment of sense? Dozens of times before that same act had happened to him. But never the same. Olu was baffled, mesmerised, hypnotised with the reason for this urge that shivered through his whole torso when the man-beast had him in his mouth.

All day at the wheel, trudging that loathsome ache around in cruel mindless circles, Gundar had cast his mind through the catalogue of girls who had pleasured him that way. For three nights now, he had run through many of the variations he had enjoyed. Again, every night when returned to his kennel, his mind went through many such exquisite pleasures of his life.

So far the king too seemed to take pleasure from this change, not once had he gone back to the hateful assaults on Gundar’s backside. Already Gundar could feel the pain there easing, the trudge hauling water was no longer hurtful at every step. Not once either had that switch come into play. Swallowing the hateful swollen hardness into his mouth, trying not to gag on the loathsome spurt down his throat, Gundar’s heart nevertheless still pounded with excitement that he had made steps forward. How to make use of them was still unsure. Yet even as he was rolling that red-hot disgust against his palate, Gundar knew he was no longer the passive butt-slave. Gundar, flickering his lower lip to make the king moan, realised he had started to gain some control back, it was him making some of the moves. Although Gundar was feeling sick at the idea of his nose nuzzling in the king’s hair and massaging a tormentor’s solid and detested flesh inside his mouth, it was now for him to make the most of that change. The king knew of no such thoughts, feeling only the soaring wholeness from manly cock-sucking pounding through his blood, nothing but the glowing satisfaction that flooded his fulsome loins. Smiling in satisfaction, breathing deep and moaning hard on his bed when he sent the man-beast back to its cage.

But still every day at the vile wheel, trudging his heavy achiness, light-headed with thirst, Gundar knew he had to keep the king amused, interested. He had to ring more and more changes to the tricks he could play with his mouth. Because he could only use his mouth. In so many of his memories the best moments came when a girl’s hands came into play. He remembered when Assawa’s fingers would slip lightly inside his crack and she would rock him oh-so gently into herself, giggling playfully in sharp contrast to his deep manly grunts, showing how with only the lightest touch over an upraised tongue Assawa could send shivers down his legs.

But Gundar’s hands were always tied, pinned up his back to the choking collar. No way could he use his hands.

Till his chance came one day……

The guards looked askance at the king. Then Gundar heard the order snapped out, Olu was never to be questioned. So suddenly Gundar’s hands were free from behind and shackled only in a light chain and cuffs in his front.

Olu knew this freedom was a risk but he commanded his six guards to stand close, he knew they’d be ready. Maybe he did not himself fully understand this drive. But Olu felt the need to keep pushing at the limits. Like taking a drug. Yesterday’s hit with Gundar was not enough, Olu felt driven to keep testing the man-beast, to discover how far Olu could push his luck. Every new move was a risk. But that was what got Olu in the guts.The monstrous brute strength of Gundar was now partly free. Tau had assured the king that the slave was weakened when caught up hard like that, so Olu had left the tightness of the harness in place. But what if Tau was wrong? Olu was running a great risk. Those enormous hands were now free, the strength bulging in those arms was unfettered, potentially menacing, the power in those gnarled and knotted shoulders was loose to unleash their force. And yet for Olu that risk seemed only to add a prickle to the thrill. How far could he push his luck with this Gundar?

Over the past three days, Olu’s thoughts kept returning hauntingly to the slave. At night he collapsed instantly into his bed almost before the slave had been led out of his door. The last three sessions with the man-beast had been a shocking experience,

Mind-blowingly shocking, Olu would never have thought a man could be so dexterous with his mouth. Or turn Olu’s own powerful limbs into mush so well. He’d even wondered once about keeping the slave in his bed. But all the while, again and again throughout the day, the nagging question kept returning to haunt the king. How tame is the man-beast? How far can he be trusted? Olu was like a drunk determined to find that out.

There was only one way.

The pair kept looking at each other from across the room. The king’s bodyguards stood ready, hands gripping spears tight, fearsome clubs hanging by their side. Neither king nor slave moved. Barely a sound of breathing, hardly a movement in the chest. Gundar was not sure what this meant. There had been progress. But what came next? Pure manly presence vibrated in the room. A prickling vibrancy filled the space between master and slave. Male erectness, male aggression. A stand-off of pure male power. Olu knew it would take only five paces for the man-beast to launch himself at him. And Olu would never stand a chance. Inside he shivered, inwardly his nerves prickled and spiked manly hostility in his groin. Neither face gave anything away. King and slave just looked, sizing each other up. The king supremely built, a warrior of renown. But a mere stripling alongside the legend that had been Gundar. The guards fingered their weapons nervously, every nerve alert, muscles primed and ready to pounce in defence of their king.

Olu could feel his heart beating hard against his chest. His eyes now took in the enormity of that force opposite him. A fearsome force he had set free. The jutting erection in its harnessed front only seemed to lend Gundar primeval force. Like the earth-spirit that ejected the seed onto the ground and brought forth mankind. Primordial, elemental in its breath-taking power. This man-myth was of tremendous proportions and strength. And Olu had rashly just set that fearsome power free. He could feel a tremor in his breath, Olu suspected he had done wrong. Granting this monster freedom was a horrific mistake. Second thoughts gnawed at Olu’s guts in face of this elemental force he had just unleashed. This was a wild feral animal, in seconds the man-mountain could break his back. Olu swallowed hard, noticing the firmness of his fear stick in his throat. This is insane, he told himself. A mistake. About to give an order to his guards. Get this untamed man-beast back in his strength-crippling chains.

Then Gundar knelt. Then the living legend that was once Gundar knelt before Olu in submission. Knelt to receive the gift from Olu. His fingers lifted and handle the royal flesh with awe. Respect. The beast was tamed. Olu had just become a legend himself.

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Flight

Olu could almost see the surprise shivering in his slave’s powerful frame above his head when he had knelt down. Last night he had had Gundar brought up from his cage, astonishingly the harness which he still wore at the water wheel had again been stripped away. On Olu’s orders. For the first time in public, the body-crippling power of that harness on loins had been removed. So too, as a result, had disappeared that pillar of power in Gundar’s groin which Tau had said sapped his strength. All the rings and weights on his chest had gone too, so had the ring on his cock and the collar to his neck. Gundar was a free man. Except for the fact that for days now he had shown himself tamed. Only left in place was the loose chain dangling between his wrists, something Gundar’s powerful force could probably snap if he choose. A risk. But risk tingled its chill fingers over Olu’s thrill-tight balls. Olu kept the chained wrists as a symbol of the slave’s status. Maybe, this was a terrible risk. And yet that was part of the excitement. Besides, there was only way to know. Had the powerful man-beast become a pet?

It was the fourth night Olu had risked being alone with this gigantic muscled beast. Yet the prickle of excitement would just not go away. Olu had to keep challenging himself, pushing this Gundar to the limits, teasing out just how much control Olu exercised over the beast. This night was to be the first time without the harness. Alone and with only that thin symbolic chain to hold back that strength. Olu’s guards no longer looked askance when he dismissed them to be alone with his pet. He no longer felt either the need to admonish them to be vigilant for noises when on watch outside the door. The harnessed beast had proven he was docile. Yet for Olu there had still remained a frisson of excitement at being left with this firestorm of strength in human form. Like keeping a tamed lion for a pet. Stepping into its cage. Not completely sure, though, whether or not it would turn. But that frisson only added to the thrill and Olu could already feel that wanton excitement prickling in his own groin when Olu made to kneel down before his hugely muscled slave’s groin. And this night Olu would go one daring step further.

Gundar had serviced him for several days. And the excitement had nearly driven Olu out of his mind. This slave seemed to have magical powers. Like something Olu had rarely known. Olu had wondered with slight regret why he had wasted so much effort in ripping up the prisoner’s arse when there was so much more potential in this slave. Sometimes during the day when Olu knew his pet slave was slaving away at the wheel, Olu had to catch himself. He had drifted off in his mind to his last nights in this chamber, his groin enlivening again as he re-lived the night’s intensity that still seemed to glow down there.

What was the magic? How did it feel? Olu had become increasingly curious about Gundar’s skill with his mouth. At the touch of his lips. He marvelled at the variety, the

ingenuity, the crackling of lightning Olu felt in his own loins. He’d wondered how it felt, what the beast felt when the king responded so vigorously. Temptation had been swirling around in Olu’s head for days. It was stupid, it was illogical. But Olu could not get the idea out of his head. He had to find out for himself. Now on his own knees before the slave, Olu sensed the muscled force gracefully lift as Olu’s fingers gently touched the tip of Gundar’s lifeless cock and brought the limp but fulsome head to his lips. The king had to smile to himself, he’d bet a dozen horses the man-beast had never reckoned on this. Olu felt without seeing the surprised look from above resting on his bent shoulders as the touch of Olu’s lip flickered over the man-beast’s love-spot underneath. Tonight the king was going to suck his beast-slave off. To discover for himself what this sensation felt like. A sharp intake of breath broke from above, a twitch of exhilaration that pulled the slave’s impossibly taut stomach in even more tight.

Of course, those nightly assaults on Gundar’s arse had been necessary. And the piercing and chains. They were what had broken the beast, taking them all together. The subjugation of all this man-force had not happened by chance. Tau had said those chains and rings kept the dangerous monster weak, safe to have around. But Olu was convinced that these baubles had now fulfilled their task. Gundar was more than perfecting his duties every night. So last night he had had that harness removed before the man-myth came to his chamber. And he had proven himself right, the beast was his. And yet there had been something infinitely titillating in knowing that Gundar was at full strength, that Gundar could choose to rip Olu apart limb from limb. But Gundar would not, last night free of the harness the man-beast had chosen not to, indeed the beast was truly his. The slave was at full strength, at the height of his impossible powers - and yet he chose to serve the king.And this moment this legend of fighting muscle was standing passive above Olu’s head while the king explored the kind of mysteries that Gundar had before woven around the king’s own crutch. Tonguing the slave, feeling the growing intensity of flesh against his moist lips. The beast was plaint, submissive, attentive to Olu’s every private need. What more fulfilling satisfaction was there than knowing the power of the bull elephant was capable of devastating damage, yet it was tamed and bent completely to Olu’s will!

Olu’s other hand went in exploration underneath and stroked at the hairless ballsack, feeling it tighten as his tongue worked the same kind of magic the slave had worked on him. Olu was fascinated at this power he held in his hand. Mesmerised by the growing mystery blossoming before his eyes, he recognised its primordial strength as his own powers awoke the massive giant to life. Fascinated by the force being transformed before his eyes. By himself. Bewitched by the supreme power he himself held over this mighty human mountain as its manful strength rose subjugated before his eyes. A mere mortal king able to command this legend’s manhood to perform for him.Gundar was being taken by that mystery too, Olu could sense that. Olu’s eyes rested only on the mystery strengthening upwards right in front of his eyes but he sensed above the transformation in this powerful force. He felt the muscled might above his head lift, the muscular stomach suck in and rise in sexual response to growing desire, Olu heard the legendary might take in a deep muscular breath as down below Olu languorously worked the power of his touch.

Then a thunderbolt struck. Then lightning flashed. Then Olu’s world plunged into darkness.

It was the best chance he’d have Lifting his chained wrists high above his head, Gundar breathed in sucking his stomach in deep and he swung his punch two-fisted into the back of the king’s neck. The king went out with a grunt.

Gundar bent to halt the fall. Full of tension, his eyes darted to the door, the lifeless king held still in his grasp. His ears pricked for sounds of response. For a full lifetime of anxiety Gundar stood rigid, watching for the door to break open. Waiting for the rush of armed guards.

But the bodyguard outside had got used to the sounds of loud manly grunts. They’d mounted guard outside for days, they’d heard every possible moan and needy groan. Barely daring to make the move for fear of alerting the guards, Gundar gingerly lowered the unconscious king to the floor and looked around for a weapon. Just in case. Walking like a stalking leopard, he took the king’s warclub off the wall. And grabbed at lengths of braided leather and cord.

Gundar instinctively decided against killing his tormentor. Those fearsome emotions of hate from the rapes and the rage at the piercing of his flesh had evaporated of late as Gundar could see his own hopes for freedom coming true. For days now, he had been playing the king at his own game. By now with Gundar fighting back, the intensity of feelings had transmuted. And now that game was nearly won. The noble sentiments he had learned at his father’s knee were still there inside him, deep down. Besides, the gurds would hear the sounds of a club crushing the king’s skull.

Working silently but fast, Gundar soon had the king seated, his hands tied round the back of the column. Ironically, the very column where Olu had cruelly had Gundar’s tits forcibly pierced. A rag gag tight inside the king’s mouth would give Gundar more time when the king revived. But, by the look of it, the king would be out for many hours. Gundar headed for the window. Gundar headed for freedom.

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Lost

Gundar had never once left the palace grounds since that feat of strength. As he went for the window, he spotted the king’s own thong thrown idly to the floor. Struggling into it, straining his larger size in the over-taut pouch, in that miniscule covering Gundar oddly had a sense of freedom for the first time in many weeks. It barely stretched around him, it offered little cover but he kept it on for the symbol that he was at last a free man again. No longer naked at the king’s command. Agilely, he slipped out of the window and on to the roof.

The only landmark in that legendary city that he knew was the market square when he had been stretched out on display. The gates to freedom opened from there. But when he jumped down off the rooftops, he found himself in a labyrinth. A night-blackened maze of narrow streets between terraces of mud-brick houses. And above a weak moon in a cloudy sky.

For worrying hours it seemed he stumbled around in darkness lost. Sometimes pressing himself into the shadows as a man passed by. He knew he’d be recognised instantly after that public display and dared not be seen. But as time went past and night crept on, searching for a way out of this maze, he found he was alone in the night. The town had retired to bed. He was alone. Alone and lost. Once he passed a well he thought he

had seen before. Was he walking around in circles, wasting valuable time? The king would recover, he’d sound the alarm. Gundar could sense a fear growing in his gut that this might not go to plan. He needed to find a way out.

Then at the end of a long narrow lane between the houses, he spotted a light. A torch flickering somewhere. Perhaps that market square, it made sense. The city gates would be guarded, there’d be light.

His spirits lifted, his pace quickened, Gundar strode purposefully but silently through the darkness between the low houses on either side, fast approaching the flickering light.

Then suddenly a gang of men appeared blocking his way at the end of the lane, torches held aloft and flickering. In the middle, Gundar recognised in the light the unmistakable arrogant stance of his tormentor Tau. Gundar’s grip on the chief’s warclub tightened. But he chose to turn back into that labyrinth rather than risk a fight and the noise bringing more warriors running.

But from behind suddenly appeared another band of a dozen men, torches aloft. Gundar was trapped in-between.

His back to a house-wall in defence, Gundar steeled himself for a fight. The fight for his life. Breathing deep, he called on his inner strength, he summoned up his warrior gods. The fearsome club in his hand could smash in a man’s skull, crush a warrior’s back. He was Gundar, the living legend. He’d taken on everyone, in a fair fight he’d always won. Above all, he was determined to escape this nightmare in Amari lands. He knew their hearts would be beating fast as fear crushed their throats at the sight of his almighty strength. This man had out-matched the strength of twenty of their best. The accoutrements of his slavery were forgotten, the harness gone, all of Gundar’s fighting strength was flooding every crevice of his body. As these warriors got closer, as their torches illuminated his prodigiously muscled frame, their knees would be turning to water, their throats parched like leather. It was him against two dozen men. But the lane was narrow, they could only come two at a time, one from either side. He needed only one blow against each man and he’d go down. Their friends climbing in fear over a pile of bodies dying under their feet to get at the club-wielding terror called Gundar. The odds were not kind, but the location was.

When the two gangs of warriors were close enough for their torches to illuminate their quarry, Tau held up his hand for them to stop. Gundar, still muscle-taut and ready for battle in every nook of his being, recognised their fear. He’d seen it in opponents before. As they saw what the snarling beast were taking on, they were daunted by the sight of his fighting muscle, knotted and ready-hardened for attack, they hesitated at the thought of that monstrous club held out to his side by an equally monstrous arm. Tau called out to the band on Gundar’s other side. Back against the wall watching both sides, Gundar’s wary eye flashed from side to side without his head moving. Ever-ready. Battle-ready. The leader from the other side answered Tau back. Probably saying, No, you attack him first, Gundar thought to himself. Several exchanges back and forth between the leaders. Making sure that the other side took the brunt of the initial attack.

Suddenly, Tau snapped out. Like he had lost his temper. Snapped out an order. Like ordering the others not to be cowards and press the attack, Gundar thought. He stood prepared. He lifted the fearsome club out in front, held tight in the grip of a battle-ready muscle-fearsome arm. A fearsome threat, letting them know what to expect, his eyes darting back and forth ready for whichever side led the attack.

A brief second before it landed, he heard the whoosh from above. He glanced up. The heavy weight of netting fell over his head. Shocked Gundar raised his arms, tangling them and his weapon in the largest of lion-hunting nets. A heavy-muscled force struck him in the side, another took his legs. Surprise of attack bowled him down to the ground. More shocks as a dozen warriors landed on top. Fists flew, clubs hammered. Punches landed. Another dozen from the other side took his legs. Kicks, clubs, blows. Gundar bawled his defiance, he shook men off this shoulders. His legs lashed out, men went flying. But he was tangled in the heaviest of nets. His arms were trapped, his monstrous club gripped useless in a tight fighting-claw.

Tau watched, flying from elation at victory to anxiety as more men were shaken off. In the narrow confines of the lane, Gundar’s strength seemed to fill the world. He’d beaten twenty men before, he could do it again. His battle-roars would waken the city, his furious powers would knock these walls down. They’d seen his strength, these warriors had feared his powers.

But nothing could beat the club that cracked into Gundar’s skull. The blow that put him out cold.