Mark's Comeuppance

Mark the Barbarian's vision was blurry, and his head swam with vertigo, but through the mental fog he could see that he was in a room; a dark room dimply lit by a shaded window and a dozen psychedelically colored lamps. No, not lamps. They were crystals.

He was upright, and his arms were above his head, but when he tried to move he found that he was restrained by an uncomfortable assortment of leather straps and cuffs, one cord of which dug deep into the crack of his buttocks like a tight thong. He was naked, and his substantially large endowment was hanging free in the warm air of the dark room. More than that, he was horny. As the drugs that stupefied him slowly wore off, his body filled with the familiar aching of sexual tension; a tugging in his loins that he would do anything to relieve. His cock started to harden, straighten, and and he foreskin peeled back until his massive erection looked like a heavy club protruding from his waist.

He realized that the warm room was damp as well. Clammy. Sweaty. It stank of sex, there were cum stains on the carpets and pillows, and he saw that every shelf was full of all kinds of demented sex-toys, from regularly sized didlos to gargantuanly enlarged weapons of the most brutal sort, all of them studded and bumps and grooves to stimulate erogenous zones he didn't realize existed. He was certain that some of those dildos weren't designed for human vaginas, but rather for gorgons and centaur-mares.

The drugs wore off, Mark felt his strength return, but even as his bulging muscles strained against the leather cords, he could not move more than an inch. Mark was strong enough to snap a bull's neck, and wrestle a giantess to the ground, but these straps held him in such a compromised position that he was nothing more than a muscular fly the web of some dominatrix-spider.

"Where . . . where the fuck am I?" Mark grumbled. He aching in his cock was unbearable. Already it was straining upwards to its full erection, being no less than twelve inches long and as thick as a girl's wrist. Mark's cock was his greatest strength, but certainly also his greatest weakness. Mark could fuck a giantess into a coma, or a impregnate a hundred nymphs in a single night, but that his cock got him into as much trouble as it got him out of.When he got horny, he couldn't think straight, or sometimes at all, and it wasn't until he fucked something that he could return to normal.Entire villages had suffered his horny wrath if he had to go even a few days without release, and if all get was one poor little girl traveling by herself . . . well . . . her pussy would never be the same.

His heart began to beat like an angry drum, and his testicles felt as heavy as stones. If Mark didn't get to cum soon he was going to be in trouble.

"Welcome to my humble abode, barbarian," a smooth, sexy, and haughty voice greeted him. It was the voice of an older woman, and just from the heft of it Mark could tell she had huge breasts. He had a talent for judging a woman's bust just from her voice. "Take a good look around. I hope you like it, because this sex-dungeon is going to be the last thing you ever see."

The woman stepped into Mark's field of vision, swaggering her curvaceous body like a tigress in heat. She was tall, buxom to the extreme, but with a narrow waist, muscular stomach, firm legs, and a big ass like a wrecking-ball. Her skin was creamy white, which contrasted radically with the black latex corset and booty-shorts she wore, along with her long black hair and dark eyes. Her nipples were no pronounced that Mark could see them through the latex. They looked just as painfully erect as his cock was.

"Feeling it yet, baby?" the woman asked, her voice oozing like warm honey.

The woman pressed her fingertip against the underside of Mark's cock and slid it upward, all the way to the enraged tip.

"FUCK!" Mark cried from the sheer erotic shock of her touch. "What . . . what have you done to me, you fucking whore!"

The woman sneered dominantly, and then flicked the tip of his cock with her finger, like she was swatting at a bug.

"Watch your language, bitch. In case you're too stupid to realize it (which I'm guessing you are), I'm the one in control here. I've got you tied up in my secret sex-dungeon, and your friends don't know where you are. You're tied up and hanging from my ceiling like a cum-stuffed piñata, completely at my sadistic mercy. Oh, and I've been saturating your body with enough aphrodisiacs to kill a stallion. Got it?"

Mark's body broke out into a hot sweat, making his chiselled muscles glisten like wet metal in the dim light of the room. His cock began to visibly pulsate, becoming intolerably erect. His captor took notice, and she moaned with satisfaction deep in her chest. She looked him over and licked her lips, as if she wanted to literally devour this powerful boy.

"Who . . . the fuck . . . are you?" Mark grunted.

The woman sneered, reach out, grabbed one of his nipples, and twisted it.

"OUCH!" Mark whined.

"You are to address me as Mistress! Understand, bitch?" she asked, twisted harder.

"YES! FUCK! STOP! Alright . . . who are you, Mistress?"

The woman chuckled to herself and gentle grasped Mark's mammoth appendage with both hands, very gently stroking it with her fingertips, causing Mark an indescribable amount of sexual pain.

"My name is Carmella Thicke, formally a witch of the Purple Haze Coven, you know the one."

"Oh shit," Mark grunted. "Briar!"

"That's right," Carmella said, with a beautiful but frightening snarl on her face. "Briar and I were witch-sisters . . . before you came along with this ridiculously big cock of yours and fucked everything up. The Coven hasn't been the same without Briar. It's gotten . . . well . . . boring without my favorite bisexual party-animal around. No one ate my pussy like Briar did . . . no one."

Carmella reached over to a table and grabbed a strange looking candle. It was grotesquely thick and oddly shaped. It's yellowish white wax was the color of semen, and a sickly addictive smell emanated from the tiny orange flame at the tip.

Carmella held the lit candle directly over the tip of Mark's erect penis, aiming right for the meatus of his urethra, and she tipped it over, pouring hot wax directly into his cock.

"FFFFFUUUUUCKKK!!" Mark screamed as the scalding hot wax oozed down his urethra, slowly hardening as it went. Mark shook like he was in epileptic shock, and he even foamed at the mouth as he strained against the bounds, but they held fast, and he was left hanging there nearly senseless. It wasn't pain that he felt either, rather it was the desperate sort of pleasure a man felt when his cock got as hard as steel, and any sensation at all was welcome. Mark's muscular body was pushed through all the physiological symptoms of an orgasm, just without actually ejaculating, leaving him drooling and shaking like an overfucked whore.

"Good. That will stop you from cumming . . . no matter what," Carmella said with a self-satisfied laugh, and she leaned over to give Mark as kiss on his cheek, causing her huge breasts to push against his chest. "Just hang out, big boy, and let your Mistress get everything ready."

Carmella turned and let her big ass rub against Mark's balls and cock, causing him to gurgle incoherently with pleasure. She strutted around the room with a casual, confident stride, getting things just perfect for Mark's destruction. She selected a wax cylinder with some smooth, sexy music and put it on the phonograph she had in the corner. Then she threw some logs into the iron stove, warming the room to almost uncomfortable levels. With every step she slowly stripped off her latex clothing, first freeing her gargantuan breasts from their tight constraints. Mark strained to get a look at her nipples, but they were covered by black pasties in the shapes of 'Xs, and that small denial was enough to almost physically hurt him. She peeled down her latex booty-shorts next, revealing a tight little thong underneath.

Carmella grabbed a bottle of massage-oil and began liberally dumping it all over her breasts and stomach, moaning loudly to herself as she rubbed it in with her hands. She came back to Mark like this, shimmering erotically like a living statue, her big tits shining like two globes of polished silver, and with the most arrogant look on her face imaginable.

"Do you want me to touch you, Mark?" she asked breathlessly.

Mark had forgotten how to say "yes" but he did grunt and plead with his eyes.

Carmella got close, so close that he could feel the heat from her thighs caressing his agonizingly hard penis. She leaned over, slowly bringing her juicy lips down towards his cock, preparing to kiss his penis's helmet with her big, succulent,wet, hot mouth . . . but she didn't. Instead Carmella stopped a millimeter from his penis, and she just blew on it.

"Fu-fu-fu-fu-FUCK!" Mark cried, desperate for release. His balls were turning into burning coals in his scrotum, scorching him from the inside, and his cum felt like molten lead.

Carmilla laughed wickedly, took one of her thickest dildos, and rammed it into Mark's mouth. The heavy rubber blocked his throat, gagging him, reducing his screams to muffles.

"Sorry, kid," Carmella laughed as she stepped back, and shook her big tits at him mockingly. "We're not here for your pleasure. We're here for mine. Let me tell you what's happening, not that it'll matter, or that a dumb piece of shit like you will even understand. Briar probably told you that the Purple Haze Coven specialized in two kinds of magic: drug magic, and sex magic. Well I happen to be proficient at both, and I combine them like no other witch (except Briar) can. I use drugs to fuel my sex magic, and I use sex to make my drugs. The semen of a virile young man like yourself is particularly potent for my alchemy, and the more concentrated it is the better it is for me. I could start milking you right now like a faggot-cow or something, and make a lot of mediocre potions, but I'd rather do this right."

Carmella stretched and leaned back against a couch, smiling up at Mark like a cat at a caged bird. She grabbed the nearest dildo and brought it to her lips so she could kiss it, lick it, and suck it like a popsicle, and once it was wet she pushed it against her engorged pussy.

"I'm going to torture you Mark. I'm going to tease you. I'm going to kiss you, lick you, suck you, fuck you a little, and let you watch as I beat my pussy up with every dildo in my collection. I'm going to do some really twisted and sick shit in front of you, Mark, but I'm not going to let you cum. I'm going to keep you on the verge of orgasm for as long as I can, probably until it kills you, and when your balls literally explode, that's when I'll collect my milky white gold. That cum will brew me up a potion worth a king's ransom. You're going to make me a very rich witch, you little bitch."

Carmella laughed, and began to masterbate, pushing down her thong just enough to push the dildo into her hungry lips, but not enough for Mark to get a good look. The horny barbarian was drooling at the mouth as he strained for a better look, and as his dangerously erect cock started to turn blue, Carmella just laughed and fucked herself.

#

Mark had journeyed with several companions in his relatively short life, but none of them were more wild and unpredictable than his on-again-off-again girlfriend Briar Hecate, a witch. Part punk-rock, part heavy-metal, part psychedelic maniac, Briar was as likely to fuck Mark as she was to kick his ass on any given night, but the sex was so good that Mark suffered the occasional ass-whoopings.

When they had first met, Mark had just been exiled from his clan for impregnating the chief's wife, deflowering his daughter, and sodomizing his son, but Mark was still naive and new to the world despite his brute strength, so having Briar as a guide meant a lot to him. For Mark, Briar was like a cool older sister, best friend, and sex-goddess all in one. For Briar though, Mark was little more than a playtoy with a big dick she could split the rent with. She cheated on him constantly, sometimes right in front of him, and with multiple partners. She left him one day without warning, so she could hook up with some random adventurer she had met at an orgy that Mark hadn't been invited too. To add insult to injury, Briar sold most of Mark's stuff for some quick cash.

Mark moved on with his life, became an expert monster-slayer, and more or less forgot about Briar as he plowed his way through entire villages of young girls and their horny mothers. Later though, Mark would run afoul of Queen Tamora, the Usurper of Cytheria, after she framed him for the murder of her husband and locked Mark away in her sex-dungeon as her personal slut. Mark escaped, but only by kidnapping Tamora's youngest daughter, Princess Cadence, who became Mark's hostage and fuck-pillow for the next several days. Tamora sent her soldiers after them, but once Cadence had gotten a taste of adventure and freedom (and huge cock) she didn't want to go back, and Tamora was forced to take drastic measures.

Tamora hired the Purple Haze Coven, a dangerous guild of witches, to hunt down Mark and capture Cadence. The champion of the Purple Haze at this point was none other than Briar herself, who thought it would be fun to fuck over her former plaything, just for a laugh. To Briar's surprise though, Mark had grown far more powerful than she could have ever expected, and he easily defeated, dominated, and fucked every Purple Haze witch that came after him, several of them losing their virginities to his massive cock.

Impressed (and possibly in love) Briar left the Purple Haze, hooked back up with Mark, and began a turbulently sexual friendship with Princess Cadence.

Mark was happy because he had two babes to travel with, Briar was happy because she wasn't bored anymore, and even Cadence was happy because she got to continue her adventures away from home.

Tamora was not happy though . . . and neither were the Purple Haze Coven . . . especially Carmella.

#

Carmella was a demoness. For hours she kept teasing, pinching, and stroking Mark's cock, all the while dancing in front of him in nothing but her thong and nipple-pasties. She'd alternate the music between genres, sometimes swaying her body to smooth sexual slow-jams, or twerking her big ass to some hot southern beat. She was a brilliant dancer; it was part of her magic, and to Mark's drug-addled brain it sometimes looked as if there were eight of her, all gyrating around the room, kissing one another, laughing at him as they danced.

The adrenaline pumping in Mark's veins kept him awake, but he was so delirious with arousal that his conscious mind would shut off for extended periods of time, and when Carmella realized that was happening she was not pleased.

"Pay attention, you peice of shit!" she snapped, and slammed her knee up into his balls.

THUD!

The pain was enough to make Mark's mind explode, but not enough to cum. The wax plugging his cock was keeping all his spunk nice and tight, and something about the drugs Carmella filled him with also seemed to prevent the natural process from occurring.

"Dumb lump of muscle," Carmella said, slowly scraping her sharp nails down his bulging chest. "I'll admit that there is something . . . *primal* about you. It is natural for beasts to admire such raw physical power, but I'm a sophisticate, you see. I prefer beauty, talent, grace, and the sublime ecstasy of the female form. Briar was . . . she was perfect in every way to me . . . and you fucked her like she was some cheap whore . . . and worse . . . you made her love it. Well . . . I'm going to make you love it now . . . love getting your ass kicked."

Carmella knelt before Mark and took a hold of his massive pussy-pumper with both hands, cradling the steel-hard pole between her warm, soft breasts.

"Does she suck your cock, Mark?" Carmella asked with tears in her eyes. Her nails were digging into the flesh of his cock. "Does she suck your big ugly cock like this?"

Carmella jammed his whole helmet into her mouth, which was like trying to swallow a small apple, and she began to bob her head up and down on the thick shaft. Carmella was really giving it her all, literally gagging herself just to get about half-way. A choking "gluck, gluck, gluck" sound came from her over-stuffed mouth, and Mark's cock began to punch the back of her throat. Thick globs of saliva oozed out of her mouth and down his shaft, dripping all the way down his aching ball-sack.

Mark felt like he was having a heart-attack, he needed to cum so badly, even though this was just a mediocre blowjob. It was pretty obvious how much of a lesbian Carmella was. She kept tonguing his helmet like she was looking for a clit, and her gag-reflex was causing her throat to clamp down on his shaft like a tight virgin pussy. Mark realized the crazy bitch was just doing it to find out how her ex-girlfriend Briar felt when she worshipped Mark's mighty idol. Briar was a champion cocksucker; she was lightyears beyond this amatuer.

Still, there was something especially arousing about getting a blowjob from an amatuer, especifally from an amatuar who obviously hated it, but felt compelled to suck dick anyway. The look on a girl's face when she tasted cock for the first time . . . that mixed expression of disgust and curiosity . . . the way their cheeks swelled up . . . the way they'd keep going deeper just to prove themselves . . . and finally the shock in their eyes when his salty nut erupted in their mouths, and they got there first taste of seed.

"GGGRRRR!!" Mark growled.

It was finally happening. He was cumming. He could feel his boiling spunk pushing up the wax blocking his urethra. He was going to explode right down Carmella's throat. He was three seconds from drowning this bitch with nut.

"Mmph!" Carmella choked as she popped off of Mark's dick. Her plump lips came off with a wet explosion. "Not so fast, you little shit!"

Carmilla squeezed the base of Mark's cock with one hand, and pushed her other thumb down on the wax. She held him tight, trying to hold back his orgasm from boiling over, even if the pressure building up was getting close to snapping his dick in half. Mark was screaming into his dildo-gag and his muscles were threatening to burst, but in the end Carmilla was successful in delaying his orgasm even further, and all that escaped from the waxy blockage was a single viscous drop of pre-cum.

Carmille brought her plump lips to Mark's helmet, and she sucked up the bit of pre-cum that had escaped.

"Mmm . . . not bad . . . but I still prefer the taste of pussy. Speaking of which . . ."

Carmilla wrapped her arms around Mark's neck and pushed her tits against his chest. She raised her pussy up over his dick, and slowly began to grind. Her pussy was hot and wet, and as she slid her swollen lips over his rock-hard tip, little gushes of honey began to ooze down his shaft, slickening it up, tickling it, and tricking it into believing that it was about to get some release.

Carmilla cried out as she let herself down, and Mark's third leg began to punch upwards into her cunt. Fucking Mark, even as slowly as she was, felt like getting fisted by a boxer, and Carmilla lost a bit of control as her legs began to shake, and her knees melted like wax. Her wet pussy slid down Mark's full shaft, and her big ass slammed down on his balls.

"Holy shit! You're fucking huge!" Carmilla cried as she began to bounce up and down, driving a twelve inches of cock in and out of wet, hot, gushing pussy. She was cumming right away, and as she did she squeezed Mark's neck and bit his shoulder. Tears rolled down her cheeks as freely as juice did from her cunt, and she allowed herself to cum again and again as she fucked her big toy.