“Take that, arsehole!”
The soldier’s boot dug deep into Conan’s gut. He’d come-round. Head still spinning from the drugged wine. On his side, feet tied to his hands behind his back. And a gang of temple-guards taking control.
Things were going to plan, it seemed. His dumb-ass gang had done what they had been told. Got it right for a change. Drugged him. Tied him up. Called in the temple guards.
Conan blew the pain out of his gut. And then cursed. Blasphemies at the guards earned him another kicking. And Conan kept it up. Threatening his treacherous gang when the temple guards sliced through the hog-tie and hauled him to his feet. He briefly stopped threatening his men he’d eat their balls for this betrayal when a club slammed into his guts to shut up his foul-mouthed rants.
But down on one knee in the dirt, catching his breath, Conan was still swearing he’d get these motherfuckers who’d sold him down the river. Acting it up. Playing his part to the full.
“Your reward?” The guard captain told Conan’s men to follow on. “At the temple.”
The purse of coins for turning in their leader was waiting for them when they arrived. Conan turned on them .. cursing the motherfuckers to hell. The guys laughed back. Giving him the finger. Like Conan had told them to. Things going to plan.
He could have made trouble. Probably escaped. That iron bar shackled to his wrists was held by their leader on his horse. One sharp jerk on the rope .. Conan could have had the prick off his horse and in the dirt. But that wasn’t the point. The plan was .. to worm his way into the palace. Insidiously pump himself into the priestess’ desires. Then .. with his own men in the temple as well .. grab that diamond. Job as good as done!
He put up with it. These guards were delivering their part in Conan’s plan. A day dragged by the neck in a noose. Every step one pace nearer to his goal. That diamond .. adorning their precious godhead .. an effigy to the god of maleness. Some fuck-stupid statue .. life-sized .. massive diamond for a cock. Impressively big .. a stiffy more than life-size.
An exaggeratedly bloated hard-on .. suitable tribute to their horny god. A god to Conan’s liking, he had decided. To be idolised like that. In his full-male glory.
But Conan had no time for gods. To get his hand on that boner …. Conan ’d put up with being dragged behind a horse .. treading in its shit when it did it. Anything to get his maulers on that enormous gem of a cock.