“Look around. Dickhead.”
The harshness of her words jangled against Conan’s growing optimism.
“Got eyes in that ugly skull of yours?”
Conan glared back. Surprised by the sudden change.
“Surrounded by prime male muscle. See one single man here that is not perfection?”
Conan didn’t have to. The temple guards who’d captured him. Her naked temple-helpers. Studly. Manly perfection. But it was the unexpected sharpness of her tone that opened his eyes.
“What extra has THAT got to offer?”
Conan knew she was talking about Old-cocky. Stood in full-glory. He saw the disdain on her lips as her head nodded in its direction.
Instantly the man that had deep-throated Conan’s hard-on .. got Old-cocky to stand more-than-erect for her .. stood upright saluting her magnetic appeal .. the near-naked temple-helper shuffled forwards on his knees.
“Get your fucking hands off.”
But for all his squirming out of the way .. the man quickly looped cord immediately under his cockhead. Conan kept struggling to fend the temple-boy off .. feeling his cheek pressed hot against Conan’s wriggling belly as he tied off the cord behind Conan’s waist.
“Use your eyes, Dickhead. Strong men. Everywhere you look. Muscular torsos. No shortage here ……”
Conan conceded the truth of that. From these temple-boys .. lean, bodies that would awaken the lust in any young girl going. And those leather-clad soldiers that had taken him captive .. Conan had rarely seen such a parade of muscular perfection in one place. This bitch certainly knew how to choose her men.
“What use have I got for ….. THAT ….?”
Conan didn’t have to follow the direction of her scornful gaze. But Conan wasn’t put down by the competition. He trusted Old-cocky. He had every reason to.
“It’s not the size. It’s what you do ……”
Her derisive hand silenced his laconic reminder.
“Your plan. Steal a god’s cock. Castrate a god.”
Tartly she’d laid out Conan’s plan. He glared her back. But nervously. That worrying reference to castration again .. ominous. And this sudden harsh change of tone. She had got him on the hop. And she had the upper hand. Until he came up from some way out of this mess.
“A god’s gift to women …. THAT …..”
The scathing hand dismissed Conan’s supposedly irresistible gift.
“And for your evil plan …. the crime of unmanning a god ……. “
Conan felt the swish of contempt in her words. Like a metal flail lashed across his chest.
“WHAT would a god gift to a thief like that?”
Her hand summoned a guard. Tall, powerful build, massive shoulders. A thin cane in the hand. Springy, willowy. Conan bit on his lower lip. The guard’s eyes were boring down on Conan’s super-erect cock. Trapped by that temple-boy .. tied upright against Conan’s belly .. hot and sweaty. A perfect target.
“Start with twenty.”
Fuck you, bitch. Twenty hits .. from hugely built shoulders. Slashed by that willowy cane. Against Old-cocky. Stood saluting her allure. Hit twenty times. Shit! Agonising. FUCK!
“Twenty for a start ……”