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Finally he released my throat, allowing me to breathe. My
respite was only momentary, as he forced me to my hands and knees
and mounted me. Time lost meaning as I became his
concubine, his tongue wrapping about my neck as a collar, invading my helpless mouth and throat, and reaching down to where his
hands brutally held my cock and balls by virtue of which to pull
me back and forth on his rod in a piston-like action. I was
helpless as the object of his demonic lust, lost in sensation,
able only to serve as I was subjugated by his true power.

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Next, I fought a man with the horns of a stag, in a larger cir-
cle. He bounded and leapt, and attempted to take the fight to
me, but I made myself the Hunter, and he, too fell before my
onslaught, and I added his power to mine.

I grew aware of the hugeness of the chamber, and many men
chanting outside in a language I did not know. Some wore robes,
most wore only paint. I felt larger, larger than life, full of
power, and stepped into the fourth circle. I saw that I was
heading towards a huge dais, and the pentacles into which I
stepped became more and more intricately detailed. Perhaps some
part of me might have wanted to flee, but it was long subsumed by
the huge power residing within me.

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My return blow knocked him a dozen feet, but just made him
even more angry. He charged me, and I stepped aside, slamming
him on the back, but he was without feeling. He spun, and his
blow shattered my practice sword into flinders in my grasp. I
threw him to the ground, pinning him, but his strength was demon-
ic, and I could not hold him despite his poor leverage.
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But just as I lost my grip, he calmed, and regained himself.
The next day, I was assigned to another knight. Perhaps I had
seen something of what makes the Templars the holy warriors of
God. I would have to be careful not to fly into such a rage
myself, lest the circumstances truly warrant the use of such
power.

Sexy chicks tortured by monstersOf course the snip had to get revenge. With that kind of anger
built up over years of being told by the society that he wasn’t
worth shit because he was gay, his only other choice was to
direct it onto the straights but he didn’t have the guts to do
that. He contacted a straight reporter he knew on the local
paper and the word also got back to a reporter for our local T.V.
station, one who had already managed to get a gay judge thrown
off the bench for a consensual relationship with a male hustler
who was a bit less than two months short of being 18-even though
sixteen is the age of consent in Minnesota.

Kontar and I were having dinner in a restaurant when the snippy
bitch queen showed up with the T.V. reporter, a cameraman and
the newspaper reporter in tow. Kontar knocked the reporter and
the cameraman clear across the restaurant with one blow of his
powerful hand pads. I was glad to see that he controlled himself
that much. If he had used much more force, we would have had two
dead men on our hands. I left the snippy queen writhing on the
floor after I knocked the wind out of him and left the reporter
with a broken jaw. I’d been waiting for the chance to do that
for years.

We told each other something more about ourselves while we re-
laxed with our drinks and cigars. I told him about my struggles
growing up in a poor family in Northeast Minneapolis and my fight
to acquire an education. He told me more about his life as a
royal prince. It seemed that he was not [...]

Another fear was allayed after I had put dinner on the table.
With those powerful teeth and jaws, he would have been able to
gobble his food directly from the plate. But whatever cultural
forces had operated during his people’s long climb to civiliza-
tion had apparently produced the custom of eating with utensils,
or else he had been [...]