Oz Beach Boy The Barbarian Ch. 01

"You have suffered, Matt-Sharakh," Sceptre Nazrey said quietly. "Your life has been one of death, enslavement and war."

"Yes," the lone warrior replied. "I have battled long and hard. I have ended many, many men and women. I have travelled to strange lands and killed strange things. I fear I will have to kill many, many more here in Barbocan Valley."

"You will be confronted with very different challenges in Barbocan Valley," Sceptre Nazrey smiled salaciously at Matt-Sharakh's boldness. "We have systems of law and beliefs of the sky that a strong man such as yourself may not have encountered before."

"We shall see," Matt-Sharakh said earnestly. "I have experienced all manner of things...many of them not good."

With the sun high and the sky bright, Sceptre Nazrey and her fighting horde finally arrived at the community of Barbocan Valley with the chained Matt-Sharakh as their prisoner.

The horde of soldiers dismounted, and then walked their horses toward the stables, moving past the hard-working denizens of the community, greeting and acknowledging them along the way.

Sceptre Nazrey dismounted, and Matt-Sharakh slid easily from his horse in one swift, graceful motion, even with his hands chained.

Sceptre Nazrey was reminded again of how dangerous this man truly was. She led Matt-Sharakh's horse to one of her soldiers, who took the steed to be stabled with the rest of the beasts.

The loyal, brave but socially inferior male soldiers stopped short at the entrance to the large, grey stone castle that formed the centrepiece of the community of Barbocan Valley, and then bowed respectfully to their ruler and colleagues.

Sceptre Nazrey, Sage Tantulas and all of the female soldiers bid their farewells to their excluded male colleagues, an obvious warmth and bond between them.

Led by the scowling Jadrath The Skull Smasher, the men then dutifully took all of the horses to the stables where they would be fed and watered.

The females of the war party then marched into the foreboding stone building. Their swords were drawn, and all remained wary of Matt-Sharakh, even though he was chained, outnumbered, and surrounded.

Head held high, Sceptre Nazrey's fur cape fluttered behind her as she led the soldiers through the castle's wide, spacious stone corridors.

The group eventually arrived in the huge, open expanse of Sceptre Morgana Court, which was named after the first ever Sceptre of Barbocan Valley.

On this hallowed ground, Sceptre Nazrey's loyal advisors, head agriculturists, chief educators, community historians, law-makers, storytellers, and military leaders awaited alongside a large group of respected Barbocan Valley elders.

Forewarned by Sceptre Nazrey's fast riding scouts, the large group of powerful women waited with serious concern to be told of what happened on the border of The Black Tundra.

"This is the man our scouts saw riding toward Barbocan Valley," Sceptre Nazrey announced to the assembled women at the entrance to Sceptre Morgana Court. "He is the feared warrior known as Matt-Sharakh...The Stallion Of The Steppes...The Destroyer Of Worlds...The Bringer Of Death. He murdered four of our best soldiers with ease, but Matt-Sharakh is now the property of Barbocan Valley."

Sceptre Nazrey then strode across the huge room to a large, ornate wooden throne at the head of the court. Big and sturdily built, the throne was intricately decorated with jewels and emeralds.

The beautiful ruler placed her Sceptre in its specially designed receptacle, and sat down with her legs spread confidently wide, her loincloth only just covering her womanly purse.

Sceptre Nazrey's large breasts heaved beneath her furs. Her brow furrowed under the decorative, diamond-studded metal band strapped across her forehead, and her raven-black hair tumbled down way past her strong shoulders.

"Bring Matt-Sharakh to the centre of Sceptre Morgana Court," Sceptre Nazrey commanded. "Let this man stand before us."

On Sceptre Nazrey's command, two female soldiers unnecessarily dragged the wholly compliant Matt-Sharakh into the centre of Sceptre Morgana Court.

A hundred sets of female eyes stared at him silently with a mix of anger, fear, suspicion, contempt, curiosity and, yes, burning carnal desire.

"Sage Tantulas...step forward and state how you believe the great warrior Matt-Sharakh may best be used by the community of Barbocan Valley," Sceptre Nazrey said boldly. "You will state your beliefs and then leave Sceptre Morgana Court immediately."

"Great women of Barbocan Valley, I humbly proffer my suggestions based on the teachings of The Cluster Of Light," Sage Tantulas said with obviously fake humility, theatrically bowing to the assembled crowd.

"Thank you, Sage Tantulas," Sceptre Nazrey said quietly and looked directly at the chained Matt-Sharakh. "Continue..."

"I believe that Matt-Sharakh should be continually drained of his man-seed until I have sufficient liquid essence to add to my cauldron of cow's wombs, bull sacks, stallion essence, and raven's blood," Sage Tantulas began. "The steam from this powerful, virile brew will then be offered to the gods of the sky, and the cauldron's contents will be sewn into the soil to promote crop fertility."

Despite being chained, surrounded by enemies, and prescribed his prisoner's fate, Sceptre Nazrey watched with stifled anger and a little undeniable admiration as a very slight smile played across Matt-Sharakh's lips.

"And how will the prisoner be bent to the will of Barbocan Valley so we can ultimately best utilise his obvious skills and abilities as a fighter?" Sceptre Nazrey asked. "How do we make him bow, and then battle loyally for Barbocan Valley?"

"The prisoner should remain in chains, and then be subjected to the carnal desires and needs of as many of Barbocan Valley's women as choose to exploit him," Sage Tantulas said to the approving murmurs of the assembled women. "This will not, however, be about his pleasure."

Again, Sceptre Nazrey watched as Matt-Sharakh continued to slyly and almost imperceptibly smile, and she could see without question there was no fear or desperation being driven into his cold, hardened warrior's heart.

"After extended subjugation and humiliation," Sage Tantulas continued earnestly, "Matt-Sharakh's feelings of manly power will eventually dissipate, finally allowing him to be shaped into a productive member of the community of Barbocan Valley. By The Cluster Of Light, I see this as the best way to gain value from the mighty Matt-Sharakh."

"Thank you for your wise instruction, Sage Tantulas," Sceptre Nazrey said. "You will now leave Sceptre Morgana Court, and I will rule on your welcome and well informed advisement."

With a bowed head, Sage Tantulas walked as briskly as his old, bowed legs would take him, and hastily exited Sceptre Morgana Court, leaving the chained and subdued Matt-Sharakh the only helpless man amongst a hundred powerful women.

"Good women of Barbocan Valley," Sceptre Nazrey announced. "I rule that the advice of Sage Tantulas be followed. I would like to break with tradition, however, by beginning the subjugation of Matt-Sharakh right here in Sceptre Morgana Court."

There was sudden loud murmuring from the throng, and some laughter too. The most powerful women in Barbocan Valley seemed intrigued and amused by Sceptre Nazrey's surprising decision.

The subjugation of prisoners always took place in The Breaking Chamber in the bowels of the castle, and never out in the open of Sceptre Morgana Court. No part of a prisoner's subjugation had ever been made wholly public before.

"Do I get to speak?" Matt-Sharakh asked firmly, with not a hint of pleading or desperation. "Do I get to defend my actions?"

"No," Sceptre Nazrey said firmly as a smile played across her plump red lips. "Your fate has been decided, Matt-Sharakh. As I told you, you will be confronted with very different challenges in Barbocan Valley. Your great skill as a warrior will be of no use to you now."

"So be it," Matt-Sharakh responded, and looked the ruler of Barbocan Valley right in the eye, "Sceptre Nazrey."

Sceptre Nazrey peered at the chained Matt-Sharakh with a truly superior and salacious smile, and then spread her legs as wide as she could on her throne, allowing the lone warrior to gaze upon her divinely milky inner thighs.

"Soldiers!" Sceptre Nazrey commanded. "Throw a rope over the rafters, thread it through Matt-Sharakh's chains, and then lift his arms up above his head."

Two female soldiers moved quickly from formation, and set about meeting their ruler's instructions. Once the rope was across a ceiling beam and through the chains holding Matt-Sharakh's wrists together, the two soldiers pulled back down upon it.

As the thick, knotted rope was hauled downward, the lone warrior's heavily muscled arms were dragged up into the air above his head.

His enormous muscles bulging, Matt-Sharakh was now even more vulnerable, unable to even use his chained fists as clubbing weapons.

The two soldiers bore down on the rope until Matt-Sharakh was stretched and forced to stand on the very tips of his toes. The rope was then fastened through a circular metal hoop on a nearby wall.

"I have decided," Sceptre Nazrey bellowed confidently, "that Matt-Sharakh's skins and loincloth will be taken from him here in Sceptre Morgana Court. You will all see what you will get to taste later in The Breaking Chamber."

There was loud cheering, clapping, hooting and laughing from the assembled women, and Sceptre Nazrey saw a fleeting look of concern cross Matt-Sharakh's handsome face.

As the ruler of Barbocan Valley, Sceptre Nazrey had a scalding need to see this proud, strong, noble man broken and bent to her will. He had to learn the position of men in Barbocan Valley.

In this prosperous land, Sceptre Nazrey wielded the power and she wanted to take Matt-Sharakh's strength and dignity away from him completely.

The young ruler, however, was also driven by the feelings emanating from beneath her loincloth, and she desperately wanted to see this handsome warrior as he was born.

"Soldiers!" Sceptre Nazrey commanded. "Remove the skull of the shadow-cat that adorns Matt-Sharakh's head!"

One of the female soldiers stepped forward quickly and roughly pulled the chained warrior's helmet of shadow-cat bone from his head.

Matt-Sharakh's long, straight, brown hair tumbled free, and the pure, unadorned masculine beauty of his strongly featured face was revealed.

As the loyal soldier handed her the confiscated shadow-cat skull helmet, Sceptre Nazrey drew in a quiet breath...no man had ever appealed to her like Matt-Sharakh.

"Take the boots from his feet," Sceptre Nazrey continued excitedly. "Cut the twine if you have to. Remove them!"

The two female soldiers -- dressed in loincloths and furs that barely covered their large breasts -- kneeled on the stone floor and quickly yanked apart the twine that held together the thick fur that encased Matt-Sharakh's feet and calves.

Once the loosened twine was hurled aside, the lone warrior's boots were pulled off, leaving his battered adventurer's feet and muscle-threaded calves completely bare. Each holding a removed fur boot, the female soldiers then tossed them aside onto the floor.

"Don't stop there!" bellowed a voice from the crowd. "Take his skins!"

"Hasten your actions!" cried another voice from the back of the room. "We want to see him!"

"Strip him," shouted another. "Rip off his skins and furs! As he was born!"

"Let us see that powerful body," shrieked a usually reserved law-maker obviously shaken by unexpected lust. "Tear his skins and fur apart! Strip him bare!"

"Soldiers!" Sceptre Nazrey commanded. "Pull the skins and furs from his body!"

Standing on either side of Matt-Sharakh, the female soldiers worked at the strapping and clasped belts that criss-crossed the lone warrior's barrel-shaped chest.

Once unfastened, the belts were pulled apart and thrown to the ground, the metal of the clasps making a ringing sound as it hit the stone floor.

The two female soldiers then harshly ripped the loosened warming hide and animal furs from Matt Sharakh's body. They pulled and yanked at them, jerking the chained warrior's suspended body around in the process.

When the covering skins and furs were finally off Matt-Sharakh's body completely, the soldiers tossed them over with the helpless man's boots and chest strapping.

There was a loud, appreciative gasp from the crowd as the helpless lone warrior's bare torso was revealed. The women of Barbocan Valley obviously liked what they saw.

Sceptre Nazrey gazed upon Matt-Sharakh's body with admiration and sensual awe. She felt trails of womanly essence starting to gather beneath her loincloth.

Matt-Sharakh's chest was large, strong and incredibly powerful. His stomach was ribbed with hard muscle. It looked as if huge, flat stones had been placed beneath Matt-Sharakh's skin, which was as Sceptre Nazrey had never seen on another man.

While the males of Barbocan Valley, and indeed those men Sceptre Nazrey had encountered from outside her home, were covered in hair, Matt-Sharakh's skin was glistening and smooth. It looked unusual and almost womanly, but it was still highly arousing. Sceptre Nazrey smiled at this glorious sight.

Had the lone warrior's hair been removed with the edge of a sharp blade? Or were the men of The Steppes Of Kazem merely born without such bodily encumbrance?

Surely, Matt-Sharakh's skin wouldn't be smooth beneath his loincloth too? Sceptre Nazrey was very, very intrigued, and was even more excited to see him as he was born.

Suspended from the rafters, his muscles taut and stretched, and clad in just a long fur loincloth, the quiet and compliant Matt-Sharakh was truly a sight to behold, and the powerful women of Barbocan Valley continued to murmur and laugh while gazing upon him with unbridled relish.

"He has no hair on his body," laughed a military strategist. "He has the muscles of a man but the skin of a woman! Perhaps he hides a womanly purse beneath his loincloth!"

"You can clearly see that he does not," offered one of the strategist's colleagues. "Something moves beneath that loincloth!"

Though his skin was smooth and devoid of hair, Matt-Sharakh's body was hardly pristine, with Sceptre Nazrey frowning at the swirling mess of battle scars that criss-crossed the lone warrior's bare torso.

Some scars were thin and white, obviously the result of shallow blade cuts, but others were deeper and more puckered, the likely product of gouging or stabbing.

The marks on his body told the ugly story of Matt-Sharakh's life of battle, but his scars only moistened the highly aroused Sceptre Nazrey further.

"Take his loincloth," yelled one of Barbocan Valley's head agriculturists. "Leave him with nothing! Let us see what he's hiding under there! Let us see if it's a branch or just a twig!"

"Look at the way his loincloth moves," added the woman standing next to her. "I think he has a whole tree under there!"

"And that is one tree I would still dare to climb," giggled an educator in her sixtieth scroll. "I should like to swing from it!"

"You must check to see if there's a weapon concealed beneath his last furs," added a demure, highly respected historian. "He might have it tucked in amongst his man-sack! Remove his loincloth in the name of safety and security!"

"Lady Hilaria!" a chief military strategist barked in response to the flushed historian. "We don't need any justification to strip this man of his coverings! He is ours to break! Let us see him as he was born!"

"Take everything he has," howled another esteemed military strategist. "Make him nothing! He is an animal! A pig wears no skins! A bull wears no loincloth! Why should he? Rip the loincloth from his filthy body! Parade him like a prized steed!"

"Strip him!" screamed a female soldier with almost feverish excitement. "Let us see the snake and its precious eggs!"

The assembled throng of women burst into loud, raucous laughter at the soldier's bawdy comment, and Sceptre Nazrey attempted to decipher the emotions playing across Matt-Sharakh's face.

The chained warrior's handsome visage suggested concern, frustration, and anger, but mostly annoyance. Sceptre Nazrey was fascinated by this man's power and sense of control. Another at the mercy of so many strong women would be terrified.

"Let us see that man-dagger," howled a brave female soldier. "Let us see how it hangs!"

"Rip the loincloth from his body!" bellowed an esteemed educator in her fiftieth scroll, her lips wet with fervour. "I beg of you, Sceptre Nazrey! Please let us see him as he was born! Don't make us wait any longer."

Sceptre Nazrey smiled at the wise educator clearly gripped by sexual desperation, and then slowly raised her right hand, a regal suggestion that the assembled women cease their shouting, laughing, and lewd suggestions. After a few moments, Sceptre Morgana Court fell silent.

"Soldiers!" Sceptre Nazrey said quietly but firmly. "Remove what is left of Matt-Sharakh's covering...take off his loincloth! Let us see what you will all enjoy later!"

With mischievous smiles, the two highly envied female soldiers went to work on the thick strapping and clasps that held Matt-Sharakh's loincloth together on his hips.

While the women giggled and murmured, the soldiers furiously pulled and yanked at the metal hooks on the sides of the strapping, ripping them eagerly from their placement holes.

To the amusement of all, Matt-Sharakh's loincloth slowly started to slide down his muscled thighs. The chained warrior's man-dagger was now barely covered. The assembled women stared in anticipation.

Completely loosened, the female soldiers then ripped aggressively at Matt-Sharakh's loincloth until it pulled free from his body completely. There were loud gasps and cries of shock and wonder as the lone warrior was gradually and fiercely denuded by his female captors.

One of the female soldiers held the captured loincloth high up above her head in celebration, and then threw it into the crowd of appreciative women.

Matt-Sharakh watched with obvious surprise and concern as the fur and hide strapping of his covering was ripped apart by the throng and then thrown into the air in pieces as if in celebration of his complete humiliation.

Sceptre Morgana Court once again fell silent, this time as the powerful women of Barbocan Valley finally saw the chained, muscular Matt-Sharakh just as he was on the day he slipped from his mother's womanly purse. His rippling body was completely without cover, his modesty utterly gone.

Desperately trying to disguise her utter delight and sensual excitement at the lone warrior's amusing public nudity, Sceptre Nazrey was shocked by the extraordinary sight of what hung between Matt-Sharakh's legs.

The chained warrior's man-dagger was bigger than any Sceptre Nazrey had ever witnessed. No man in Barbocan Valley was so well equipped. Matt-Sharakh's manly appendage was long and thick, like a heavy rope used in the restraint and construction of shelter.

Topped with a long piece of hanging skin, Matt-Sharakh's enormous man-dagger had the appearance of a hooded serpent, and swung almost to the chained warrior's knees.

Matt-Sharakh's huge man-sack was equally impressive, bulging and swinging like two tree-fruits collected from an orchard in a cloth satchel.

Unlike the rest of his smooth body, the newly exposed area under Matt-Sharakh's loincloth was thick with dark, tightly curled hair, almost animalistic in its tangled spread.

His muscled arms stretched up above his head, his chest and abdomen taut with pressure, and his manhood exposed for all to see, Matt-Sharakh was on complete display, with a hundred women drinking in every part of his masculine form.