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Subject: Barbarians' Toy - MMMMM/f, bdsm
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Date: Fri, 24 Oct 2003 23:57:27 +0000
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===================

Julie is a a bright, determined beautiful college girl, and when her 
dreams are filled with sword wielding barbarians raping and using her 
she decides to bring them to life for a weekend of carnal desire and 
bondage. She hires a crude, muscle bound weightlifter and sets out for 
her isolated cottage. When he brings friends she is at first disturbed, 
then helplessly aroused, as her fantasy grows stronger. But where does 
fantasy leave off and reality begin? For Monday arrives, and her chains 
remain.





I hope you don't think I'm a sick pervert after you read this. I mean, I 
consider myself to be more or less a normal, healthy young woman. 
Well... actually, I consider myself to be a little above average. After 
all, I've been a straight A student all my life and am in one of the 
finest universities in the country on a full scholarship.

I've never been the kind to sleep around. But that wasn't because I 
didn't want to. It was more because I didn't want to get a reputation as 
a slut. I had too much dignity for that. Unfortunately, along with my 
dignity comes a much higher than average sex drive.

I lost my virginity very early in my teens. I wasn't forced, or seduced, 
or drugged or drunk, far from it. I made a conscious decision, picked 
out the guy I wanted to deflower me, and set everything up. It was all 
very... efficient.

Unlike most girls, I didn't lose my cherry in the back seat of a car 
under a grunting, groaning idiot. I lost mine in my own living room in 
front of a crackling fireplace with a guy who knew his way around a 
girl's body.

Maybe that was why I became so fascinated with every aspect of sex. 
Also, the guy was much older than me, and much, much bigger, which may 
be where I developed my love of big, muscular men.

I know a lot of girls don't think much of the big muscular guys. You 
know, the ones that really work at it and bulge with muscles all over. 
They like smaller, slimmer guys like Brad Pitt. Not me. I've always had 
a thing for big guys with lots of muscles and few brains.

Of course, being as smart as I am, most guys are dumber than me, and 
being as small as I am, most of them are bigger. That's been mostly 
enough until lately, but after I entered college and began studying my 
major, which is the European dark ages, my fantasies about big muscled 
men became stronger and stronger.

I suppose I should describe myself at this point. My name is Julie 
Conners. I'm just over five foot two and weigh about ninety five pounds. 
I have a really nice body, with a really nice tight little bottom and 
larger than normal breasts that despite their size(38DD), don't sag an inch.

I have a sweet little heart shaped face with a small upturned nose and 
big blue eyes. My hair is a bright golden blonde and I keep it straight, 
and shoulder length. I part it on the right and sort of toss it back 
across my forehead just above my eyes.

Now don't get me wrong. I like my body. It's attractive, fit, and 
healthy. I kind of like the attention I get most of the time, especially 
when I'm on the beach in my bikini.

But I'm no dumb bimbo. I have a hundred and seventy IQ, I can read, 
speak and write four languages and know more about the world, its 
geography, history and politics, then ninety eight percent of the 
population.

Unfortunately, with my looks, very few people who don't know me well 
treat me with much respect. Because of that I've learned to be 
aggressive when I want something.

Anyway, I thought, fantasised, and dreamed about being a kind of slave 
girl to some big monstrous barbarians, you know, the Conan types, for a 
long time. In my fantasies I gave up the aggression in favour of a meek, 
servile sex slave who was used and abused by these big horny men...

The thick stone echoed with the screams and clashing steel of many 
swordsmen as the barbarians ran through the castle. I flattened myself 
against the wall, then hurried further along, heading for my father, the 
King's secret tunnel escape.

Then there was a scuffle and I sensed movement behind me. Something 
caught my long hair and yanked violently. I screamed, dragged backwards 
by a huge, laughing man. He was bulging with muscles, his face a twisted 
ugly mask of hate and lust, a dark, nasty scar running across it.

He whirled me around by the hair and then threw me through a doorway 
into a chamber. It was one of the sitting rooms and I fell against a 
gilt edged table, only to be grabbed and thrown across a big chest.

The hard wood slammed into the back of my thighs as he came at me, his 
huge, ugly body clad only in furs and shaggy boots, his hair, longer 
than mine, falling in a dirty tangle around his unshaven face.

He grabbed my gown and ripped it apart, tearing it like thing paper, and 
leaving me clad in shreds and my thin shift. then he grabbed the shift, 
tearing it down the front, baring my soft young body to his lewd and 
carnal gaze.

I screamed again, beating at him with my small fists, but he merely 
howled in laughter, slapping my face so hard he knocked me back onto the 
chest. He gripped my slender legs and ripped them open, jerking my 
buttocks to the edge of the chest.

He opened his codpiece and took out his manhood, swollen with lust, dark 
angry red with purplish lines and veins. I gazed at it in horror as he 
brought it towards the softly curled hair surrounding my tight thin cleft.

He pushed the knobby head against me and thrust forward, slapping my 
face again as I sought to rise. I cried out again, falling flat atop the 
chest, sobbing with fear and pain and outrage. His organ thrust forward 
again, one of his hands holding it like a weapon as he ground it into 
me, forcing it slowly into my virginal body.

I wept with pain and misery as his prong forced open my womanhood and 
twisted forward. He grabbed me about the waist then, jerking my light 
slender body towards him as he lunged forward with his hips. His hard 
lance drove into me, driving deep into my belly.

I cried out, my sex screaming in pain as it was so harshly, so cruelly 
wounded. I expected to see blood pouring from my opening, but there was 
none. He guffawed, then threw his hips forward again, and I felt his 
hard, throbbing weapon thrust further into my body.

I gasped as I felt the end of the monstrous thing far up inside me. My 
eyes opened in wonderment as my hands flattened on my belly, seeking to 
feel the terrible thing inside me, but I could not, not with my hands, 
yet it was there, and I could feel it inside me, pulsing with life, hard 
against my soft inner organs.

He drew it back, then thrust forward again. His mighty tool impaling me, 
slamming deep into the very bottom of my love chamber. I could feel it 
grinding against that inner part of me that marked the center of my 
being, and groaned from the pain and horror.

The cruel, savage man continued to laugh as he assaulted my defenceless 
body. His hands mauled my breasts, squeezing and tearing a them, his 
large powerful ffingers digging deep furrows in the malleable flesh. He 
buried his face in my throat, biting and sucking and licking like a 
maddened beast.

His loins drew back, then thrust forward again, tearing his male sword 
about in my belly, thrusting it back and forth as he pulled and jerked 
on my hair and forced my face up against his. His lips came down on 
mine, no matter how I sought to avoid their contact.

Then they were locked tightly against my own soft, sweet lips, pressing 
hard, bringing new pain to my tormented body. My eyes opened in 
revulsion as I felt his tongue push into my mouth. I would have bit it 
but was afraid he would murder me at once.

I fought down nausea as he began to rut into me like a maddened thing. 
His hips rutted in and out, plunging his terrible back and forth in my 
sore, agonized chamber. I groaned and whimpered as he used me, his 
member pummelling me as he grunted and cursed.

Then he groaned and his eyes closed briefly as he held himself still 
inside me. I felt a kind of seeping wetness deep inside my guts and new 
that his seed had gushed forth into my belly. I sobbed in misery and 
disgrace, my chest heaving as I wept.

He laughed again, tearing his softening thing from my crotch and shoving 
it back inside his breeches. He grabbed my silken hair and dragged me 
off the chest, shoving me in front of him, then pausing long enough to 
rip the fragments of my gown and shift from off my wounded body, leaving 
me clad in nothing but my skin.

Then he tightly bound my wrists behind me with leather and shoved me 
forward into the hallway. I moved hopelessly along, my head bowed as he 
prodded at me with his dagger. He brought me down into the throne room, 
where my father had once, but no longer, ruled.

His barbarian comrades were all about, laughing, screaming and dancing, 
tearing at hunks of meat with their teeth as they abused the younger 
noblewomen and serving girl.

Naked, I was led into the room and thrown to my knees before the pirate 
lord who led this horde of savages. His eyes gleamed as he gazed down at me.

My flesh crawled, already dark red and hot with humiliation at being so 
crudely stripped and used, then displayed to the gathered throng. The 
leader stood up, standing before me. He said something in his barbarian 
tongue but I did not understand it.

Then the man behind me gripped my hair, savagely forcing my head up and 
back. The leader fondled my breasts, a smirk of cruelty on his face, 
then he drew out his manhood from his breeches to much laughter from his 
men.

As the man behind held my hair, the organ was placed against my lips. At 
first, I did not know what he wanted or intended, but his thumbs forced 
my jaws apart and then his organ actually pushed into my mouth! At the 
same time a razor sharp dagger was placed against my throat, leaving me 
with no confusion about what would happen to me should I do harm to him.

He began to slid the thing in and out of my mouth, snarling at me in his 
awful language. One of the men looked over his shoulder and made strange 
looking faces, his cheeks puckered, mouth round as he pretended to 
suckle on something.

He pointed to his lips and I got the idea, reinforced by several angry 
blows to the head. I closed my lips tightly around the lord's member, 
suckling on it as a babe would on its mother's teat. He grunted in 
satisfaction, slowly moving the instrument in and out of my mouth as 
tears of mortified misery slid down my cheeks.

Abruptly, he pulled his instrument loose. I was whirled around, my face 
forced down against the cold stone. He knelt behind me and then thrust 
forward, his manhood driving deep into my exposed loins. There was a 
cheer from his men and a round of deep laughter.

He began to use me then, riding me like a bitch dog as the onlookers 
cheered. I felt a terrible numbness at such utter depravity, and yet... 
something... somehow... inside me there was pleasure, not a pleasure of 
the mind by any means for I was in deepest misery, but my body felt a 
strange, unfamiliar tingling that was far from unpleasant.

The tingling grew and grew, a buzzing vibrating thing that seeped 
outward from my womanhood. His organ continued to churn inside my belly 
as he rutted into me with careless brutality. And something inside me, 
down between my legs, responded to it, responded not like a lady, like a 
Princess, but like a raw, wanton animal.

I moaned in denial, trying to fight it back, but it was no use. It grew, 
its heat engulfing me, flooding through my body, sending wave after wave 
of numbing, terrible bliss and joy through my trembling frame.

I grunted in mindless happiness, my own loins unconsciously jerking back 
against him, my love chamber seeking more and more of his pummelling, 
punishing organ. I moaned in pleasure, my body trembling and shaking. A 
hand in my hair dragged my face off the stone, pulled my body upright as 
he humped into me.

Exclamations from the watchers showed they recognized my pleasure, yet I 
could do nothing, could not help myself, could not even think of 
anything save the craven satisfaction of my own burning lust. He pulled 
harder on my hair, bowing my body back as he drove himself into me 
harder and faster.

Then there was a blinding light and I screamed aloud, my body racked by 
convulsions as my belly exploded with maddened pleasure. I felt his seed 
spraying up inside me, and rather than disgust, felt a kind of gladness.

Then I was shoved forward onto the stone, laying there for only seconds 
before being seized by the gathered barbarians. I was flung on a table 
and another barbarian stepped between my legs, then thrust into me. 
Again and again my body was used, all through the night and into the 
next day. I lost count of the men who had used me and the times I had 
cried out my happiness.

In the morning I would walk in chains, naked among the other slave girls 
as I was marched southwards towards the waiting ships, to be taken over 
the seas and sold as a sex slave. Instead of terror, an odd kind of 
freedom sang in my breast. Then I cried out as yet another massive 
eruption of ecstasy flared within me.

I'm sure other girls have the same sorts of fantasies, though perhaps 
they don't dwell on them as I do. I had a quite a difficult time with 
mine as well because of how, well, how crude and degrading they were.

After all, I'm a feminist and I know I could do anything a man does. If 
any man dared treat me anything like they way they did in my fantasies 
I'd be furious. I don't even tolerate it when they're condescending. So 
you can imagine how guilty and stupid I felt after these masochistic 
fantasies.

How it was that these awful fantasies about being abused and molested 
and raped aroused me so was beyond my understanding. I tried to resist 
them, really. But they began to assume more and more power as I studied 
the history texts and read all about that period.

Not long into the term, I mailed away for, and received, handcuffs, 
leather bondage equipment and a big dildo.

I would chain my legs to the bottom legs of my bed, slowly force the 
thick dildo into my sex, and then manage to chain my hands to the upper 
corners tightly enough that I could pull hard and not come loose, but in 
a way that I could twist my hand around and get free when I wanted.

Sometimes I would lie there, my eyes closed, my arms and legs constantly 
pulling at the bonds holding them, my muscles squeezing and clasping 
down on the dildo inside it. I would often arch my back, and raise my 
groin upward so I could bring my sex down against the bed and force the 
dildo back into me after perverse, certainly they would not sympathise. 
So I bore them alone and in silence, fighting them during the day and 
giving in during the night.

One day, the idea came to me about how I might be able to fulfil my 
fantasies. It wasn't intentional, coming quite by accident.

It was late at night in my dorm room. I had been up all evening studying 
and had just finished at about three in the morning. My three roommates 
were all asleep long since, and I was quite tired. I remember I was 
wearing a pink jumpsuit and t-shirt.

Tired as I was, I wasn't about to go to bed without a shower. It had 
been quite a hot day and though the dorm was air-conditioned, I'd played 
tennis earlier and hadn't showered yet.

So I stripped, put on my robe, grabbed my towel, along with my little 
bag of toiletries, and made my way down the dimly lit corridor to the 
common showers we use in the dorm.

We're very into feminism, equality, and all that kind of stuff here, and 
so the bathrooms are co-ed. Now, that's not as bad as you might think. 
There are toilet stalls for privacy, andhing as he rutted into my torn 
virginal opening. Again and again his member thrust into my body, and I 
grunted as the pain and heat rose simultaneously within me.

I felt the slap of his hard body against my buttocks as he grunted from 
behind me. My tightly bound hands twisted and pulled at the tight rope 
binding them and tears of humiliation coursed down my cheeks. Never had 
any man dared so misuse me.

Yet despite my horror and degradation, I felt my woman's body respond, 
as it inevitably must, felt myself drawn into arousal by the force of 
his rutting and the fiercely plunging organ within my tight sheath. 
There was nothing I could do of course, for my body responded quite 
naturally to the lewd sexual poling he was giving me.

I felt the heat burning within my loins as his manhood moved inside me, 
felt his hands roving over my body, pawing and squeezing, then holding 
my hips as he drove himself even harder into me. I came then, crying out 
in helpless ecstasy as the burning heat flared throughout my body.

My head ground into the dirt as it twisted and jerked in a mad paroxysm 
of sexual pleasure. My body shivered and trembled, and my loins drove 
backward to meet his hot blooded thrusting, then I felt his man's seed 
spew down the length of his tube and gush into my belly.

There was nobody I could talk to about these, well... disgusting erotic 
fantasies. My friends simply wouldn't understand, they'd think me sick, 
perverse, certainly they would not sympathise. So I bore them alone and 
in silence, fighting them during the day and giving in during the night.

One day, the idea came to me about how I might be able to fulfil my 
fantasies. It wasn't intentional, coming quite by accident.

It was late at night in my dorm room. I had been up all evening studying 
and had just finished at about three in the morning. My three roommates 
were all asleep long since, and I was quite tired. I remember I was 
wearing a pink jumpsuit and t-shirt.

Tired as I was, I wasn't about to go to bed without a shower. It had 
been quite a hot day and though the dorm was air-conditioned, I'd played 
tennis earlier and hadn't showered yet.

So I stripped, put on my robe, grabbed my towel, along with my little 
bag of toiletries, and made my way down the dimly lit corridor to the 
common showers we use in the dorm.

We're very into feminism, equality, and all that kind of stuff here, and 
so the bathrooms are co-ed. Now, that's not as bad as you might think. 
There are toilet stalls for privacy, and going past them you come to the 
showers.

The showers are four little shower stalls, each about two feet by two 
feet square, You go in, close the door, lock it of course, then strip. 
There's a little counter to put your toiletries on and a hook to hang 
your clothes out of the way of the shower head's stream of wate it was 
always so clear who was the boss. How could a guy respect a woman as his 
equal when he's had her on all fours, her asshole winking up at him as 
he thrusts into her?

In my fantasy though, my degradation was merely a sign of his power over 
me and my impotence.

I knelt like a dog a he mounted me and pounded his cock into my velvety 
pink pussy box. Men stood around watching as he used me, his hands 
firmly around my hips or waist as he drove his staff into me with hard, 
measured thrusts.

In the shower stall, I turned around, pressing my face into the corner. 
I was incredibly high, my mind buzzing with lust, my body throbbing and 
pounding with desire. I panted and groaned helplessly, my vision 
blurring whenever I opened my eyes.

I was hotter than I'd been for ages, my body pulsing with sexual heat. I 
bent over, sliding downward onto the floor of the stall, consciously or 
unconsciously positioning myself in real life as I was in my fantasy. I 
knelt on the floor, my shoulders pressed to the floor as I mauled my 
breasts with my right hand and fingered my cliown my body, cupping and 
caressing my fat breasts, and sliding my fingers back and forth between 
my oily pussy lips.

I was running through a village under attack by big, muscular savages 
with their long steely swords. One of them caught me, dragging me up 
across his horse as he howled with triumph and raced out of the village.

There were a lot of them, and I wasn't their only prisoner, but I mostly 
kept the rest in the background, most of my concentration on my own 
captor. He was huge, almost seven feet tall, probably three hundred 
pounds of solid bulging muscles. He had a granite jaw, long gorgeous 
blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes.

He threw me to the ground and stripped off my long gown, then with a 
grin of mastery, he forced my legs apart and entered me. He was huge of 
course, his cock tremendously long and thick and it slid into me like a 
log, thrusting deep, spreading me wide open.

My legs were held wide apart as his huge, powerful body covered me. He 
grabbed my hair, twisting my head up as his lips crushed mine. His 
tongue thrust into my mouth, whipping and wriggling around as he sucked 
and mashed his lips tightly against me.

Down between my legs, his hard throbbing cock thrust deep into my belly 
and my cry of pain was swallowed up by his hungry mouth. I slapped at 
him but he easily held my hands away, forcing them up above my head as 
he began to work his massive organ in and out of my virgin pussy.

All around us were screams as other village girls were rudely raped, but 
my concentration was on my pussy, where his fat prong was rutting back 
and forth with such force my body was being jerked and mashed against 
the sweet yellow grass beneath me.

His hard, muscular hips hammered down against my soft, tender thighs as 
he drove his spear down into my belly. He pounded into me with hard, 
even savage strokes, his cock thrusting with long even movements, 
sliding back and forth inside my belly.

His hard body crushed down on top of me, flattening my fat breasts, 
rasping against my soft skin as he rutted against me. His hands worked 
under me, sliding beneath my ass cheeks and he started jerking my ass 
upward to meet his brutal downward thrusts.

As the fantasy played before my closed eyes, my fingers worked harder in 
my soapy pussy. I had three fingers thrusting rapidly in and out of my 
cunny, grinding over my clitty with each stroke. My other hand mashed 
and squeezed my breasts as I moaned and grunted in pleasure.

The big barbarian pulled out of me, turning me over and forcing me onto 
my hands and knees. He knelt behind me and thrust deep into my pussy 
with a single stroke, his cock knob slapping against my cervix with 
painful force.

In the real world I never fucked doggie style, considering it far too 
degrading. I'd seen porno movies of girls getting it like that and it 
was always so clear who was the boss. How could a guy respect a woman as 
his equal when he's had her on all fours, her asshole winking up at him 
as he thrusts into her?

In my fantasy though, my degradation was merely a sign of his power over 
me and my impotence.

I knelt like a dog a he mounted me and pounded his cock into my velvety 
pink pussy box. Men stood around watching as he used me, his hands 
firmly around my hips or waist as he drove his staff into me with hard, 
measured thrusts.

In the shower stall, I turned around, pressing my face into the corner. 
I was incredibly high, my mind buzzing with lust, my body throbbing and 
pounding with desire. I panted and groaned helplessly, my vision 
blurring whenever I opened my eyes.

I was hotter than I'd been for ages, my body pulsing with sexual heat. I 
bent over, sliding downward onto the floor of the stall, consciously or 
unconsciously positioning myself in real life as I was in my fantasy. I 
knelt on the floor, my shoulders pressed to the floor as I mauled my 
breasts with my right hand and fingered my clitty and pumped my fingers 
into my pussy with my left.

I was trembling with erotic desire, my knees sliding on the floor, my 
face lowering so my cheek was against the tile. My left arm was down 
between my legs, three fingers pumping in and out of my sex as I spread 
my legs and raised my bottom into the air.

Other images flew through my mind, including one of my favourites, where 
my hands are bound behind me and I'm being pulled along behind a 
barbarian on his horse, a rope around my neck as I trudge along a few 
feet behind him.

I whimpered and mewled as my body was overloaded with sexual heat. I 
felt my orgasm approaching as I pounded my fingers into my box. My eyes 
were clenched tightly closed as I panted for breath. The sound of my own 
breathing and my own heartbeat loud in my ears.

Now, the thing was, when I'd gone out of the stall to start the water up 
and then come back in, I'd forgotten to lock the door. Maybe it was 
because I was tired and it was three in the AM, who knows. But the door 
wasn't locked, and that was to be my undoing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
 From the ebook: Barbarians'Toy, by Argus
Argus books have been published by Virgin Nexus, Silver Moon, Star, 
Olympia, Chimera, and Beeline. His ebooks are available as electronic 
books at http://www.ebookblue.com/

    

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