Ballsac the Barbarian 1: Captured by the Necromancer.
An erotic fantasy.
In the third age of the Koloman Empire, a great darkness fell on the city-state of Kunt. The Necromancer, with his army of zombies, descended upon the realm and enslaved all the peoples.
But a hero arose out of the frozen northlands. Ballsac, the Barbarian. Steely-eyed, overly muscled, and long of schlong, Ballsac assembled a team of adventurers and they assaulted the castle of the Necromancer, seeking to put an end to the villain’s rule.
Alas, they were betrayed and trapped. Still, Ballsac held his ground, allowing his companions to escape, as he slew a throng of zombies, piling their once-again dead bodies around him.
In the end, he was captured, stripped, and imprisoned in the dungeon of the Necromancer, awaiting his fate.
By the succulent tits of Sebuliana, how can I escape this monstrous pit of evil?
Ballsac hung by shackles from the ceiling in the deepest dungeon of the Necromancer’s castle. Stripped naked and tortured for hours, he’d held on, letting his rage fuel his determination to escape.
Bruno, the Necromancer’s Master of Torture, had finally given up trying to extract any information from him.
Ballsac wasn’t about to give up the location of the band of adventurers he’d traveled with from the far reaches of the realm. If anyone could figure out how to save him from this predicament, it would be them.
A pair of large, golden eyes appeared in the darkened doorway. Much like elvish eyes, but what would an elf be doing here? It was probably some new construct of the Necromancer, misshapen and hideous.
The thing crept toward him slowly, the torchlight highlighting a bushy halo of golden hair framing its head. Still, the visage remained shadowed. “Did Bruno hurt you badly, my lord?”
There was a lilt in the creature’s tone, light…feminine. What new horror was this?
Its figure was slight, curvaceous. As torchlight finally caught its visage, Balsac released the breath he’d been holding. She was lovely.
He grunted. “I would prefer not to talk about Bruno. Let’s talk about you instead. Do you have a name, girl?”
A wraith, vampire, succubus? None of those would have surprised him, yet this waif appeared disheveled and dressed in rags. Still, she stood out as a thing of great beauty in a very ugly place.
The young woman held a tray containing a tankard of ale and a loaf of bread. “I am called Tittili. I’m here to see that you are fed and…” Her gaze lowered. “…washed, my lord.”
A slave girl of the Necromancer. The poor thing had the look of a scared mouse in her dark-rimmed eyes.
“And am I to be released so I can dine and wash?” He hadn’t expected mercy from the Necromancer.” Though he stood flat-footed, the manacles kept his hands pulled tight toward the ceiling.
She shook her head. “I…I’m sorry, my lord, but I was given no keys, only the command.”
Ah, so this would be a new kind of torture. Still, he pitied the girl.
She was an elf. He could see the pointy tips of her ears sticking out of her golden hair. Her large, blue eyes held the roundness of the wood elf clans of Glizznand.
He wondered how such a beauty had ended up here, suffering this fate.
“Do you wish the bread or cup first?” she asked.
“The cup, please.” He prayed it really contained ale, and that the brew was strong.
She placed the tray on the ground before him and picked up the tankard. As she was shorter than he, it took some reaching to get the vessel to his mouth properly. In doing so, she brushed up against him. Her firm, round breasts, mashed against his chest, and he could feel her pebbled nipples through the thin cloth of her shift. Her hip slid against his cock, causing an instant reaction.
He took a long sip from the tankard, and let the liquid burn down his throat. It wasn’t the worst swill he’d ever drunk…but it was close. He nodded and she pulled the vessel from his lips. “Thank you. The bread now, if you please.”
He’d been starved for days, and his stomach growled at the mere sight of the moldy loaf. As she tore off chunks and fed them to him, he chewed and swallowed. He’d take all the sustenance he could get, no matter how foul. The Necromancer would not break him.
The woman, on the other hand, was getting to him on a completely different level. Her touch, however innocent or necessary for her task, was having its effect on him. His cock pulsed boldly, jutting stiffly from his body.
After he’d finished eating and drinking, she left for a moment, then returned carrying a bucket of steaming water and a washing rag. She cleaned his face, then went round behind him and, starting at his shoulders, washed him all the way down to his feet.
At one point, while working on his back, she drew closer and whispered, “The people are with you. Stay strong. Many seek to find a way to free you.”
The message warmed his heart and hardened his resolve, and the warm water felt good, though it stung some of the wounds the torturer had inflicted on him. He only winced once, when she rubbed across one of the deeper cuts.
She drew back. “I’m sorry, my lord. I do not wish you harm.”
“It’s of no matter. You have a very light and enjoyable touch.”
She got as high as she could reach on his arms, then she came back around to his front and started on his chest. Avoiding his erection, she worked the cloth around his crotch, then continued down his legs. Once finished, she returned to gaze wide-eyed at the engorged member. “I am also to…” Her cheeks reddened.
Ballsac chuckled. It surprised him that he’d find anything to chuckle about in this dreadful place, but the girl and her innocence were a delight. “You must do what you must.”
Kneeling before him, she brought the warm cloth up, cradling his sac as she washed, then ran it along the length of his swollen shaft.
Ballsac let out a sigh. “Your touch is welcomed and appreciated. It has been a long time since I felt the touch of a woman there.”
Her eyes darted from side to side. She glanced back at his erection. “Shall I…finish you, my lord?”
His head spun. “I would find that most pleasant, but — ”
Before he could end his thought, her lips slid over his cockhead. Dropping the rag, she cupped his balls, gently manipulating them as her tongue played around his shaft.
His aches and pains disappeared in the erotic thrall of her mouth on his cock. His balls tightened as an orgasmic wave cascaded through his loins and quaked through his entire body.
The first spurt caught her by surprise. Her eyes widened, and cum dribbled out the side of her lips. But she swallowed and continued sliding her tongue around his cockhead, encouraging more.
Spurt after spurt, he emptied his balls into her eager mouth, and she took it all, swallowing enthusiastically.
Ballsac slumped as his knees gave out. Such a powerful reaction had him panting. “If you only knew how much your…service…has meant to me. If, at a future date and time, I am in a position to repay this favor, be assured, I will. My thanks, fair maiden.”
She confronted him boldly. “Hardly a maiden, my lord. And I will freely accept your promise to quite properly fuck me, once the Necromancer and his foul concubine are dead.”
Ballsac smiled. He liked the woman’s grit. “You have my word.”
Is Ballsac doomed to become a shambling zombie in thrall to the Necromancer? Or does this one ray of hope embolden his escape? This story continues in Ballsac the Barbarian 2: The Necromancer and his Vampire Queen.
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