BigJimsWornOutTires
Kraken
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A Centurian blundered through the blood-drenched dirt while clutching his guts with wounded hands. He scanned the vicinity seeing his fellow soldiers die while some scattered away cowardly. A commotion alerted his attention to his east. He struggled his head to that side. Two African negroes were gangraping an older man of different uniform attire. He closed his eyes to that scene and reminisced a prior night.
Two sentinels lay dead at an opening of a wall as armored horses and chariots rushed past. Meanwhile, a foot soldier hurried inside a chamber where the Centurian sat on a decorated cushioned chair sipping a red wine from a silver goblet. "Sir, sir!" The young man shouted while catching his breath. Sweat saturated his face and neck, his sandals muddied and toga blood-stained. "Sir, Ruby and Frederick's men are storming the walls." He swiftly stood spilling the wine and chucked the cup across the room.
"Those bloody bitches! We had a treaty!" He yelled, bolting to a window to see. The grounds were filling with legions of assorted uniformed men. His allies. He stretched his head out the window and screamed, "In the name of Jupiter, you will burn in the fire!" Then, he pivoted to a highly decorated commander that just scurried inside the chamber. "Gather everyone you can! They fucked us! So we're going to fuck them harder and deeper!"
Back to that dreadful scene.
He stared at the sky, watching a cloud blend with another, his face distraught with agony. He freed his hand from the opened wound of his abdomen. The intestines slopped out. He labored his head high and uttered something. Everything disappeared simultaneously manifested into a desert plain as he stood with no wounds - no blood. He patted his torso, making sure the injuries were gone.
"Ready to do this again?" A voice is heard, but the speaker not exposed.
"Yeah."
Later that evening, inside the chamber, he wore casual attire and paced back and forth the window searching the outside. A knock on the door. "Come." He replied. An older woman donned in a burgundy shawl ambled in and behind, followed, a middle-aged rough-looking gent in a white tunic with a red drape.
"I like to tell you both a story. You're going to like this one." As the two sat on the readied chairs several feet across his own, he said. He then seated—sighed—continued, "There was this young Roman lad dressed nicely walking through a desert carrying a bundle of fox fur and a jar of jelly. An urn on the ground catches his attention; he plucks it up. It was dull and silver and had writing etched in the medium. He couldn't make out what it read. It was too dirty. So he rubbed the crud away with the collar of his sleeve, and it revealed Alabama." Suspiciously, he looked around as if something was to happen that didn't. He continued, "So he said that word out loud. And magically, and immediately, a giant appeared in fine garments. He says to the fellow, "Thank you for releasing me from my prison." The lad asked who he was. He said, "I am the last of the Nephilim, for the gods bounded me inside this prison and tossed into the flood. I was never to be located. But you found me, my good sir!"
"But the lad was angry and replied, "You slowed me down, Mr. Giant. I was headed to get some pussy and hopefully, a lovely mouth to choke on my cock. Now I have to run to that town because of you and get all sweaty."
The older lady grunted at his colorful depiction; she wasn't impressed and briefly gazed at the gentleman beside her. However, he was attentive to the story.
"The giant was puzzled and offered his assistance. "I can help." He said. "Is this your first time attempting this?"
"Yes! I've never hit that shit before. I was hoping this fur would be enough to persuade her mouth to wrap around my dick and this jelly be packed inside her asshole for some easy shithole sliding."
"My goodness," the lady stood up, saying, "I will not entertain these words of yours, General." The commander smirked and rolled his eyes.
The Centurian gestured her to sit back down, reacted, "Trust me, Ruby. You and Frederick," he looked at the man, "are going to like the finale to this wonderful true story." That surprised her of the truth he was speaking and sat down.
He resumed, "Ah, yes." The giant said while still puzzled at this little pervert. "Because you released me, I will allow you to say my name three separate times, and each time will go back one sunset. So if she denies you, find out why and see what you should have done and said next time. Then say my name, and you'll go back a day."
"And why are you telling us this story?" The woman interrupted again.
"Because Ruby, I said that name a third time. And I can repeat it! Alabama! I was given three uses of it. And you two tried to fuck me and lost! Yes, yes, I know you two have been plotting against me!" He aggressively stood and stared them down. "I know you will storm these walls tomorrow. But you both lose. We all do. And you, Frederick, are sodomized by my negroe soldiers. They fucked you good, and you died suffocating on a big long black cock!"
Fredrick smiled as his eyes widened in delight. Ruby stood and revolved to her guards' attention. Centurian grasped her arm and said, "Ruby, please, let's end this now."
She turned back to him and soughed. "Where is this urn? Share this magic, and we'll reconsider."
He walked to the end table next to his chair, grabbed the silver goblet, and brought it. "This was it." He hands it to her.
"But it's a cup." She gazes at it and follows a remark, "This is no urn."
"It was. I had my blacksmith melt it down."
Fredrick joined in, "So where's the giant? You swallowed him?" He asked in a flamboyant tone.
"No, you old faggot. I released him." He declared, then walked to the window. "He was thankful and said he was going to visit a new land and live with natives and fuck their women." He diverted back to them. "So I didn't question him. To each their own."
"What did you do with the second Alabama?" The fag asked.
"I use that for a mother and daughter sandwich." Ruby shook her head.
"Then there's an alternative, Mr. Centurian." She said, gazing at his biceps. "Leave us, guards," she announced, then looked at the old faggot. "You too, be gone." She began untying the belt around her shawl and stepped to him with a seductive grin.
"Ugh. Okay. That'll work too." A groovy music tone began playing with funky drumbeats as the two began disturbing sex that awakened the god of Cringe.
"Oh, yeah, that's what I'm talking about." The Cringe god spoke, though they couldn't hear him, as he oversaw the troubling scene with a creepy grin.
Two sentinels lay dead at an opening of a wall as armored horses and chariots rushed past. Meanwhile, a foot soldier hurried inside a chamber where the Centurian sat on a decorated cushioned chair sipping a red wine from a silver goblet. "Sir, sir!" The young man shouted while catching his breath. Sweat saturated his face and neck, his sandals muddied and toga blood-stained. "Sir, Ruby and Frederick's men are storming the walls." He swiftly stood spilling the wine and chucked the cup across the room.
"Those bloody bitches! We had a treaty!" He yelled, bolting to a window to see. The grounds were filling with legions of assorted uniformed men. His allies. He stretched his head out the window and screamed, "In the name of Jupiter, you will burn in the fire!" Then, he pivoted to a highly decorated commander that just scurried inside the chamber. "Gather everyone you can! They fucked us! So we're going to fuck them harder and deeper!"
Back to that dreadful scene.
He stared at the sky, watching a cloud blend with another, his face distraught with agony. He freed his hand from the opened wound of his abdomen. The intestines slopped out. He labored his head high and uttered something. Everything disappeared simultaneously manifested into a desert plain as he stood with no wounds - no blood. He patted his torso, making sure the injuries were gone.
"Ready to do this again?" A voice is heard, but the speaker not exposed.
"Yeah."
Later that evening, inside the chamber, he wore casual attire and paced back and forth the window searching the outside. A knock on the door. "Come." He replied. An older woman donned in a burgundy shawl ambled in and behind, followed, a middle-aged rough-looking gent in a white tunic with a red drape.
"I like to tell you both a story. You're going to like this one." As the two sat on the readied chairs several feet across his own, he said. He then seated—sighed—continued, "There was this young Roman lad dressed nicely walking through a desert carrying a bundle of fox fur and a jar of jelly. An urn on the ground catches his attention; he plucks it up. It was dull and silver and had writing etched in the medium. He couldn't make out what it read. It was too dirty. So he rubbed the crud away with the collar of his sleeve, and it revealed Alabama." Suspiciously, he looked around as if something was to happen that didn't. He continued, "So he said that word out loud. And magically, and immediately, a giant appeared in fine garments. He says to the fellow, "Thank you for releasing me from my prison." The lad asked who he was. He said, "I am the last of the Nephilim, for the gods bounded me inside this prison and tossed into the flood. I was never to be located. But you found me, my good sir!"
"But the lad was angry and replied, "You slowed me down, Mr. Giant. I was headed to get some pussy and hopefully, a lovely mouth to choke on my cock. Now I have to run to that town because of you and get all sweaty."
The older lady grunted at his colorful depiction; she wasn't impressed and briefly gazed at the gentleman beside her. However, he was attentive to the story.
"The giant was puzzled and offered his assistance. "I can help." He said. "Is this your first time attempting this?"
"Yes! I've never hit that shit before. I was hoping this fur would be enough to persuade her mouth to wrap around my dick and this jelly be packed inside her asshole for some easy shithole sliding."
"My goodness," the lady stood up, saying, "I will not entertain these words of yours, General." The commander smirked and rolled his eyes.
The Centurian gestured her to sit back down, reacted, "Trust me, Ruby. You and Frederick," he looked at the man, "are going to like the finale to this wonderful true story." That surprised her of the truth he was speaking and sat down.
He resumed, "Ah, yes." The giant said while still puzzled at this little pervert. "Because you released me, I will allow you to say my name three separate times, and each time will go back one sunset. So if she denies you, find out why and see what you should have done and said next time. Then say my name, and you'll go back a day."
"And why are you telling us this story?" The woman interrupted again.
"Because Ruby, I said that name a third time. And I can repeat it! Alabama! I was given three uses of it. And you two tried to fuck me and lost! Yes, yes, I know you two have been plotting against me!" He aggressively stood and stared them down. "I know you will storm these walls tomorrow. But you both lose. We all do. And you, Frederick, are sodomized by my negroe soldiers. They fucked you good, and you died suffocating on a big long black cock!"
Fredrick smiled as his eyes widened in delight. Ruby stood and revolved to her guards' attention. Centurian grasped her arm and said, "Ruby, please, let's end this now."
She turned back to him and soughed. "Where is this urn? Share this magic, and we'll reconsider."
He walked to the end table next to his chair, grabbed the silver goblet, and brought it. "This was it." He hands it to her.
"But it's a cup." She gazes at it and follows a remark, "This is no urn."
"It was. I had my blacksmith melt it down."
Fredrick joined in, "So where's the giant? You swallowed him?" He asked in a flamboyant tone.
"No, you old faggot. I released him." He declared, then walked to the window. "He was thankful and said he was going to visit a new land and live with natives and fuck their women." He diverted back to them. "So I didn't question him. To each their own."
"What did you do with the second Alabama?" The fag asked.
"I use that for a mother and daughter sandwich." Ruby shook her head.
"Then there's an alternative, Mr. Centurian." She said, gazing at his biceps. "Leave us, guards," she announced, then looked at the old faggot. "You too, be gone." She began untying the belt around her shawl and stepped to him with a seductive grin.
"Ugh. Okay. That'll work too." A groovy music tone began playing with funky drumbeats as the two began disturbing sex that awakened the god of Cringe.
"Oh, yeah, that's what I'm talking about." The Cringe god spoke, though they couldn't hear him, as he oversaw the troubling scene with a creepy grin.
