Most nepto-killers were crushed at the most a year after entering the arena. I had seen them come and go. Above all, I was adamant in leaving my current stature, embarking onto new horizons. No question, I really knew that if I was killed, I was done for, gone for good. So, all I could do was keep fighting until my cult status catapulted me to a better place.
I had become somewhat of a legend. With my almost seven feet height, strong muscles and excellent killing techniques, a neptorod was yet to vanquish me. Wofaria had never seen a fighter as stubborn and hard as myself. So here I am, here to tell you how my world changed.
My preparation for the fight, the day everything changed, had almost come to a close, my muscles flexing, my body ready and my mind concentrated on its task. Of course I enjoyed my work, but killing a neptorod for the 472nd time would have seemed too dull a task, had it not been for the size of the thing.
Well, of course they had told me that I was about to fight a bigger beast this time. With its 25 feet in height and 13 feet in length, it gave even me the shivers. I believe, on your planet they call them dinosaurs. The difference, over here, is that they still exist alongside us. If no one else could, I would beat it, right? After all, I had killed bigger and yet bigger neptorods. Hell, I told myself, why not this one?
“Eventually a Neptorod gets everyone,” the people had told me four years earlier, back when I had been a so-called rookie-killer. That was, at least, until I proved my stamina. I think you knew my kind as gladiators, at least back in what you called the Roman Empire. After that first year of my time as a killer, every fight turned into a guessing game. Was I going to make it again? Then, after two years, I had to come up with more amazing stunts to entertain the people. Otherwise, they would become bored. They knew I was going to win. By now, on my way toward the fifth year as a beast-crusher, it was merely a question of how I would be killing the beast. By strangulation? By shoving two knives into its eyes? By numbing it with a head-punch and then shoving a spear into its belly? There were regular bets going on amongst the people about what technique I would use this time. People were betting gold, money, their pets and even their wives on my daily chosen methods of beastly execution.
Some of the time, I even got to fuck some guy’s wife because he had lost his chance on a bet. I’d say that half of the time there was some bimbo waiting there, naked, her legs spread eagle after a fight. I even had five girls waiting there once in my dressing room, all waiting on their knees, mouths open, their eyes expectantly wide, eager to see if I was as big as the other girls had told them. Was my nickname “Mr. Squirt” justified? Was my erect hard penis really ten inches long? Did I have as much cockjuice in my balls as the experienced girls had told their girlfriends? All they wanted, those cockteasing chickies told me, was five portions of my cum. I granted them all my squirts of my sperm, of course. How could it be otherwise? I am a gentleman. I aim to please.
Life had become predictable, I will admit that. In fact, it consisted of life in two places: my elegant but confined flat and the arena. I had all the privilages of a superstar – cyber-cinema, food, waterbed – but I was not allowed to leave. Ever. All the willing girls came in through by way of the spectator-tunnel, which was of no access to me. Right at the moment of the fight, my guard waited for me by the Neptorian Entrance, the one that was saved for my kind. Anyway, the day of my 472nd neptorod-combat, someone had assigned a weaponbearer and a costume-girl for me. I don’t know who it was that had sent them at first.
When I strode in to my arena dressing room, they were waiting for me. One guy and one girl. I humbly asked them what they wanted and they responded that they were fans. I chatted with them for a few minutes about neptorods and the live bait I used in my fights, hamsters and rats and the like, before the admitted to being fans of my sexual prowess.
Both rather handsome, I must say. No, I am not bi, but sharing chick with another guy has always been fun. At least when the babe gets down on her knees and points her butt at me, it just helps when I can fuck her forward into another hot dick.
That’s what we did. The boy, Nagat, was a fine fellow with a penis half the size of mine, but rather sturdy and very thick, just my width. The girl, Inia, had the nicest size ass I have ever seen. It wobbled so beautifully when I stuck my cock inside it. When we both finished on her, granting her swell portion of our pistol-proteine, she spent ten minutes licking off the juice off her boobs.
I knew the truth, though. I had been a ghetto-boy from the slums of Wofaria’s suburbs. I only fought to stay alive. They were no different. So I told them I had been chosen to fight after having been falsely accused of murder. The beast-crushing business had become my life, but if someone offered me a way out, I would hang my weapons on the hook forever and leave this fighting business to its destiny. Nagat and Inia told me very little about their fate. They inserted the weapons into my leather back-belt, adjusted my cape, put on my spike-gloves and tied my shoes. I kept asking them if life was diffiult for them, but all they did was answer me how damn lucky they were to meet me.
There I was, knowing fully well how Inia’s pussy tasted and felt, seeing how soulfully Nagat had fucked her, knowing that their spirits wanted what I wanted: freedom. You see, in our world sex is a part of spiritual freedom. Fucking is one of many ways we use to express who we are, what we want or if we have found our fate in our incarnations. Not until much later did I understand that there are planets where that is not the case.
When I walked out into the arena that day, my electronic ankle-brace squeezed my skin especially harshly. I had experienced hardships with my leg after falling from a neptorod one week before. The brace had detected that and was set to increase any pain. I remained steadfast and stoic, trying to concentrate on my task. One hundred thousand spectators greeted me with cheers, screaming my name: “Igure, Igure, Igure!”
I responded my usual armraising greeting, stretching my hands way up into the air and screaming my customary chant, a chant my audience knew about and joined into, I must add. I said: “Death to the neptorods!”
It was my revenge on the government, just like all the girls I kept fucking before and after my shows always was a way of finding myself. King Lurtuish had offered me this position almost five years back in order to serve my sentence well. I had agreed, not really knowing what I was facing. Now I had become a huge megastar, but with no freedom. The public demanded that the king let me go. Nobody had responded to my claim as of yet.
Just as my ankle twisted my skin even more, the monster arrived, drooling, spitting, its red eyes half as menacing as its glowing green skin, its spiked head half as menacing as the slow bobbing tail that sought to crush me. My hands clutched my cybersword, the beast’s eyes flashed, its nostrils flaring with smoke oozing out of every pore. We were two creatures, destined to duel, one victor, one bevictored.
Then, all at once, we both rushed toward one another, like beasts destined to embrace in combat, mortals lovers caught in a death-dance. It flew toward me, I grabbed my spikes, jumped onto its throat, crawling up while screaming, shoving them into his nostrils, climbing up on its head, clawing its eyes, producing hell-holes of purple bleeding. It screamed. Oh, how it yelled. Then, when it died, the audience broke out into fits of cheers. And I? I stood up, alone again, addicted to victory, depressed when victory had passed me with flying colors.
Back in my dressing room, melancholic again, she was there. No Inia, no Nagat, just a very, very elegant woman. Black long dress with beads hanging down from both shoulders. I twisted and turned, trying to find my previously fucking guests.
“Where are my new friends?”
The woman took some elegant steps up toward me, swaying her cute derriere and wagging her boobies at me. “They were escorted out through the tunnel.”
I cocked my head, critical as to who I had before me. There had been many women offering themselves to me. This one seemed more in control, more superior. I don’t know why, but she scared me. “And who are you?”
I put my sharp sword in my holster and stretched my muscles, pretending not to care, probably looking like I did and not knowing the fuck why.
“Princess Lidea,” the woman said. “I am here to set you free.”
I looked up, stunned. For one singular moment, time seemed to stop. Free? I had only known this life for … well, too long now. I was a star, sure, but one that never saw anything but the confines of singular spaces. “You’re kidding?” I waited, trying to detect the cheat. “Why are you setting me free? Who are you?”
Princess Lidea walked up to me and knelt down, helping herself to me groin. “King Lurtuish’s daughter. He spoke of you as ‘Wofaria’s most famous man’ and added,” she said, dropping my trousers and giving me a hand-job, “that something had to be done. So he’s setting you free.”
I smiled, enjoying her treatment. “Does he know you are giving me a handjob?”
Lidea giggled, wrinkling her nose. “No.”
By this time, my huge schlong had been pumped up to a singularly humongous size. Lidea, the dirty princess, didn’t fail to insert my cock into her cherry red lips, embracing it, hugging it hard, making it look like vanilla cone travelling into a strawberry salad. She closed her eyes, grabbing ahold of my butt, making me wonder if she had alterior motives.
“What do you want from me,” I chuckled while moaning, “except my huge dick in your mouth?”
Lidea took out my cock, rubbed it back and forth. “My dad wants to see you, so you’re coming to the palace to speak to him.”
“The palace?” I inquired, for the first time realizing that this crumpet actually meant business. Up until now, she had only been a possible escape route from my guard.
“You’ve become a legend,” she answered with a wink.
She reached into her cleavage, fumbled a bit, my cock bobbing like crazy and waiting for some more female mouth. After fumbling for a minute, she began unbuttoning her dress. “Ah, what the fuck, you’re gonna fuck me, anyway!”
“What are you getting out?”
There were three glories revealed. Lidea’s fantastic D-cup gazongas and the key to my ankle-brace. After she released me from a lock that would’ve exploded had I broke it, I licked her sexy and fleshy titties, fucked her like a maniac and squirted on her butt.
We left for her personal carriage out the royal way and I had never seen that entrance. What was more surprising was the disappearance of my guard. Flabbergasting, it felt like dancing on clouds. I had not seen these sights, the city itself, in five years. The Gaoshs High Street with the fifty statues of the Ingfas kings, the Ahgso Waterfall next to the Üpja-palms, the Temple of Opidgd and the Theater of Zuafsfsa. The crowds, well, what can I say, they noticed that their hero was free. So, the shouts grew louder than I had ever heard them. A few of my fucklovers were there, too, and they were smiling, hoping for more of my cock. My dick glued to my leather pants by way of dried sperm, though, and I couldn’t leave the princess.
As soon as we entered the royal grounds, my heart nearly stopped, my breath grew shallow, my eyes teared. That’s when it dawned on me that I might really be free, after all. But what were they planning for me? Working as a government official? Becoming their military leader? Had I been freed of the charges? Had they realized I was not guilty?
Anyway, eventually I wandered into that pink palace with its 165 towers and 40 entrances, greeted by welcoming, blue-clad courtiers, taking me to the biggest and most impressive dining hall I had seen. When I sat there with King Lurtuish, I couldn’t help but feel bribed. The food simply overwhelmed me, meat of every kind, stews and soups, the alcohol soothed my senses, and underneath place at my table, two blonde girls knelt below me under the table, taking turns giving me blowjobs. The king offered me a position as a military leader. This had to be fake.
So, it was a weary and intoxicated head that I wandered to my suite, pondering over this incredible change in my life. I had been pampered, caressed, fed, complimented and fucked. I don’t know what it was, but I was sure King Lurtuish was jealous. So I sat there on my marble terrace overlooking the red, white and blue plains of Ikugas, wondering if I should let this conspiracy come to a close or if I should do something.
I tried to sleep, I tossed and turned, I called for food, I ate it, I drank some more wine, I called for three girls and fucked them, squirted on their faces, but whatever I did, this feeling of restlessness only grew more intense.
At three thirty at night, my cock again glueing to my leather pants by way of cum, I decided to take a stroll in the vast palace garden. The roses smelled fresh, the full moon reflected its white light on my large frame. I couldn’t help now owning what I thought was the last piece of my puzzle: freedom. They hadn’t even mentioned my alleged crime. It was completely gone. I vowed to ask Lidea or Lurtuish that tomorrow.
Just as I wondered what to do, I heard screams echoing through the night. I turned around, witnessing two people running through the night, followed by guards. I don’t know what they were screaming. I do know that I recognized them. It was Nagat and Inia, the couple I had fucked with before the fight with the Neptorod this morning. Panic in their voices, speed in their joints, mortal fear in their bellies, they obviously attempted escape from… yes, from what? The guard caught up with Inia, ripped off her dress and dragged her back to… wait a minute, that was a dungeon down there. A prison cell. In the midst of this gorgeous garden, sorrow in the midst of wealth. That seemed cheap, vile, evil, even.
I watched the guards drag down my carnal shagmates down into a deep hole, closing the door, shutting it and dawdling away laughing. One moment of silence protruded, prevailed, and I was left in the midst beauty, listening to screams. And my feet, almost on their own, approached darker areas. Soon enough, I walked down mossy steps, finding myself by their sides, crying, naked, desperate.
“King Lurtuish has called you here to fool you,” Nagat began, drying his eyes of tears.
“Tomorrow,” Inia continued. “You will be presented in front of the court and the public, and tested.”
“Tested?” I inquired, bewildered as to the meaning of these words.
“We,” Nagat said, “will be thrown at your feet and you will be ordered to kill us. If you don’t, you will die. King Lurtuish has lured you here to get rid of you.”
“He is envious,” Inia concluded.
I bade farewell to my lustful companions, seeing the sun rise before my eyes, not having slept one wink. With tears in my eyes, the huge corpus that had killed 472 neptorods was unable to rebel against the crown. Why? Fear of authority.
So, there I stood, shortly after the royal breakfast, in front of large crowd of revellers. The king had spoken well of me as the new military leader. For the first time, though, he said openly that my crimes of late were pardoned and forgotten. The condition being if I could, myself and completely, mortally wound two criminals. Enter, Nagat and Inia.
So, there I was, actually wishing to be back in my arena, being escorted to my elegant prison. Nagat and Inia lay there at my feet, I was given a sword with which I was expected to execute the people I had fucked not yet 24 hours ago.
“Stop this nonsense!”
The voice that reverberated from beyond the king’s throne possessed way more authority than the king’s. Accordingly, my sword raised, my huge hand trembling, my mind wondering why I couldn’t kill a fuckbuddy when I had killed 472 beasts, I turned around, the sword tumbling down on the ground. I turned around again, fearing that the sword had wounded my friends. Not so. They lay at my feet, crying.
“You have taken this far enough!”
The woman that strode up toward me was dressed in red, a bloody antidote to the king’s bland grey. She reached forward her hand: “I am Gertrude, the queen!”
She turned around and faced her husband.
“The real queen!”
She strode back toward the king’s golden throne and pointed at him.
“You know as well as I that my father was the king, that I am the real monarch and that this man,” Gertrude said, pointing at me, “is innocent of killing Nagat’s father.”
Nagat looked up at me. I looked at Nagat, Inia shrugged and I think the king cringed.
“Who are you, Nagat?” I asked.
“My father was murdered by the king,” he answered. “You were blamed, because you were close by the crime-scene.”
Suddenly I remembered being in the Wofarian capital on the day of the royal parade, five years ago. I remember witnessing a fight between the king and his assistant, five years ago. I remember being the witness to someone getting a knife shoved in a belly and realizing that the man had been a royal assistant. I had not seen the face of the murderer. I had just known that they had disappeared into a side street to fight. I was dragged away, given the position of nepto-killer. I had been told to keep my mouth shut, fighting beasts and living like a king, never getting out of my misery, but trying.
I looked at the king, saw him being dragged away, and wondered why fate twisted and turned the way it did. Queen Gertrude pardoned me, Inia, Nagat and Lidea joined me in the back room. We needed love, so we gave each other exactly that. Although Lidea and Gertrude seemed melancholy about the king’s recent abdication, Gertrude eagerly wondered to see if I was as big as her daughter had claimed.
Soon enough, there was that one moment when I stood in the palace, so close to the throne, hearing the groans of happiness from three girls being fucked in turn by Nagat. While Gertrude worked on my large dick, Lidea came over and kneeled below Nagat’s gender, licking on his balls. I now soared in seventh heaven, two girls on their knees, giving me blowjob point-of-views. Inia, that raunchy little crumpet with deep dimples and twinkling little eyes, rubbed her big titties while walking up to me, the old beast-crusher.
Without even opening my eyes, I found Lidea’s willing mouth, my own cockjuice spreading across my gums, her tongue wrapping around mine, her saliva travelling back and forth between my cheeks. Lidea’s lipstick tasted of cherries, her tongue tasted of woman, her cheek tasted of perfume and her hair smelled of mandarine scented perfume.
The helmet of my cock, blue and hard, smiled at Inia with its happy one eye. She took the length in her mouth, closing her eyes, sucking deeper for every blow, enjoying the salty taste of my throbbing manhood. She caressed my ass as she gave me a hot blowjob, I grabbed her head hard, pushing my hot cock into a red and willingly harlotlike facehole.
I moaned, groaned, sighed, sang, laughed and cried, all at once, while giving my sexy mistress her well-earned blow job. Man, it felt good to get a good blowjob.
Time stood still as I, almost in slow motion, reached down and got ready to fuck the chickies in turn. Gertrude threw her head backward as I entered her from behind, smiling, groaning, moaning, grabbing her tits and caressing her nipples. Inch by inch, centimetre by centimetre, I worked myself down toward the temple of her innermost glory, while Nagat fucked Inia. With the gorgeously lustful sounds of the birds in the garden, I pulled myself toward Lidea’s sweetly tasting vagina. Digging deeper and deeper into her body, I found myself actually filling my entire face with her juices before humping her, while Nagat now shagged Gertrude.
We took turns fucking all of those three lovely pussies, switching holes, sharing glory, laughing, those genders making wet noises. With a fantastic smacking sound, I slid out my cock out of Inia’s pussy and injected it into Gertrude’s asshole, only to finger Lidea’s cunt. It was tighter than I expected, but Gertrude seemed to enjoy the feeling of having me fuck her butt in the backside of the throne-room to the sounds of Nagat squirting on Inia.
The girls ended up lying on the floor, licking cum off their tits and chatting.
Nagat and I, we discussed what possible things we could do with the kingdom, how we could improve the lives of the people, how we could eliminate poverty and what we should do with King Lurtuish. We agreed that all we had to do was follow what our hearts told us to do. So, King Lurtuish received a position tending to the garden, but living in a confined area at night.
I went back to the arena today. As a king. Yes, I am king of Wofaria now. The crowd cheered. I had been one of them. We are freeing the country as we speak. And feeling fucking lucky every bit of the way.
The neptorods still exist, but we have confined them to a seperate place away from the dangers of the arena. Nobody enjoys fighting anymore. We do two things instead. We make love and we make music. After all, sex not only creates babies, it’s also a lot of fun. In fact, it’s sheer heaven. We travel the galaxies, trying to find out more about you humans on Earth. So I am sending you this letter, sending you a message by way of one of rockets. Another species tried to inspire you to believe in this truth back during one of your wars. I believe you called the era your power of flowers, or something of that sort.
Didn’t you want to make love and not war?
What’s happened to that?
It’s time to remember love.