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The Iron Baron
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This story contains graphic depictions of sex between two adult males. If
that doesn't float your boat, don't read it.
The Iron Baron
As an historian and college professor, I enjoy living in England. Old
documents are always turning up in libraries and old monasteries. I am
never at a loss for historical studies to publish, but it was as a
cocksman
that I was fascinated by an old diary I found in an alcove in a castle in
Nottingham.
The diary spoke of sexual exploits, so I didn't announce its discovery to
the
college...I took it home for my own pleasure. I translated its Old
English,
and I found a marvelous account of cocksucking in the 11th Century. Here
it
is, verbatim:
I entered the Baron's service as a youth, a stripling of 18. My
family
was wondrous poor, such that I indentured myself to His Grace to take a
mouth from my father's table.
I remember my presentation to the Baron as if it were yesterday.
As
I walked down the hall to his audience chamber, maids and servants
troubled me when I saw them making the sign of the cross as I passed by.
"What, do I go to some fearful fate?" I asked, but they scampered away and
would not answer.
I entered the audience chamber, and there sat His Grace Robert
deBretonne, Baron of Traloney. I had seen him only from a distance
before,
always astride his horse. Men called him "the Iron Baron." Now, a
stone's
through away, I saw he was a mighty man, indeed. I knelt before him.
For a long moment he looked at me, then he bade me stand. He
looked me up and down, and, shameless, I also looked back at him. What
a huge man he was. He stood at least 18 hands high, and he looked as
heavy as a bull.
In spite of the armor he wore, I could tell that underneath them
(indeed, the lust already had begun as I imagined him without clothes) he
was not fat, but rather hard with muscle. No wonder they called him the
Iron
Baron.
When he spoke, his voice was deep and rasping. "I shall make
thee, young varlet, my body-servant. What doust thou think of that?"
I dropped to the ground again. "I am grateful, Your Grace."
"Thou shalt attend me this very night," he went on, "upon my
return
from Edward's castle." He stood up and left the room, dismissing me. I
hurried from the hall. Outside, a few maids and butlers gathered around
me.
"What am I to do when he calleth for me?" I asked them. "I have
never been a body-servant before." They looked at each other with grim
faces.
"What he will require of thee will be easy to perform, perhaps
difficult to accept," said a butler. "Nonetheless, relax thee, young man.
Now thy fate is as plain and as sure as the baron's dick."
I was astonished by such bold language, especially in front of
ladies, but none of them seemed offended or even surprised by it. "Thou
shalt learn why they call him the Iron Baron. We have all felt of his
iron," he
added cryptically.
That made me fearful. Did he beat his servants with an iron rod,
as I
had heard some overlords did? None of the servants would answer me,
however, and gradually they left me, moving back to their duties.
Worried, I wandered around the castle a bit, ending up in an empty
room in the outer wall. "The baron's dick, the baron's dick." I could
not get
those words out of my mind. I felt my pike growing in my breeches as I
thought of what a sword milord must carry. I looked out over the
courtyard.
I saw a baron's man, one of his knights, pissing against a wall
near
the stables. I craned my head to watch. I loved to see a man's weapon,
and this man had a good one.
I had never told anyone what a thrill it was for me to see a man's
cock. Whenever I worked in the fields with the men of the village, and one
of
them stepped away to piss, I tried to go with him, saying I needed to piss
as
well.
I casually glanced at his John Thomas when he took it from his
breeches. Looking at a man's member made me feel strange.
I never missed the opportunity to swim naked in the river when the
village men went there. I loved the deliciously wicked feeling of warmth
I got
in my crotch when I saw a mans big dick swinging between his legs and his
balls moving ponderously as he strode around nude.
Overcome with the lust, I rubbed my hot crotch for a few moments
as I watched the pissing knight vent his yellow stream upon the wall. I
pulled down my breeches and took out my swollen cock.
Is there a delight so exquisite as such play? I watched in awe as
my soft, wriggling worm lifted his head in challenge, swelling his chest
and
blushing in warrior's excitement. As I pulled my hand back over his
helmet,
he sent great waves of delight to my aching groin, and I stroked him
fondly.
"Yeah, John Thomas," I whispered to him, for such I heard the male
member called by some rude boys in the marketplace, "you are my one true
friend who never betrays."
I thought of the baron's dick, the one the servants had spoken so
grimly of. What manner of man was he?
In my fantasy, propelled by my rapidly growing frenzy, I dreamed
of
him pulling down his breeches before me, parading back and forth, the
owner of a titanic cock so long it dragged upon the floor.
My mouth watered, almost as if it wanted to suck such a thing. I
gasped. Could I do something so rude?
In answer, John Thomas grew even greater, and he sent jolting jabs
of ecstasy through my body, overcoming me with waves of bliss. I lifted
my
head in joy, leaning back against the wall, and John Thomas spoke in great
spurts of white, sticky jizzum. Puddles of slimy degradation lay all
about me
on the floor, slowly sucking up the dust. I moved quickly out of the
room.
Let someone else explain how those puddles came to be there!
Outside, a page came running. "Young man, young man," he
called, "the baron doth seek thee!" I hurried with him to the baron's bed
chamber. The page did not enter with me, but stood looking at me strangely
as I announced myself and opened the door upon the baron's call.
He stood there, still in the ornate armor he wore at the time of
my
presentation. "Thy first duty, my strong young knave," he said, "is to
remove
me from my armor."
I hurried to him, reaching clumsily to unfasten the gold-inlaid
plates,
not knowing what to do. "It is not difficult, fair youth," he growled.
"I shall
help thee this once, and thou shalt do it alone henceforth."
He showed me where the straps connected, and I loosened them,
removing his shoulder plates. Unfastening more straps, I opened the body
armor, and it came off him in two pieces.
I was so awed, I caught my breath. He heard that and looked at me
with a strange smile. "Art thou pleased with what thou see?" he asked.
"Yes, Milord," I answered. "Never have I seen such a powerful man
as thee." The armor was in the outline of a massive man's chest and
belly.
I had thought it was only decorative, but when it dropped away from the
baron, I saw it was in his perfect likeness.
He wore a linen shirt under the armor, but his muscles were plain
to
see. My cock twitched.
He held out his arms for me to remove the metal guards, and as I
did, he flexed his muscles for me. Huge slabs of sinew rippled under his
skin. Touching him made me a little dizzy.
The baron looked at me sternly. "What, ho, varlet? Dost thou
grow
sporting with me, thy liege lord?"
I was stunned. What had I done? I followed his glance, and I saw
he was staring at my crotch. Looking down, I saw that I had a great bone
in
my breeches, a bulge that reached out as if I concealed a capon in there.
I
immediately blushed with shame.
I saw him smile. "Young man, I take that as a compliment from thy
youthful body to my old, decrepit one."
I blurted out, "Oh no, Milord, thou art anything but decrepit!
Never
have I seen such a great man as thou art!" I blushed again for my
impudence.
He looked at me levelly. "Then continue to strip me, young man,"
he said, "and tell me what thou think when thou hast removed my
codpiece."
His codpiece! All knights wore exaggerated metal canisters over
their dicks. It made them look more virile, more powerful, more manly.
Whenever we saw them riding by, I had admired such big male
members, but I knew that what lay within was never as large as its
container. I was eager to take off the baron's codpiece, nonetheless.
I hurriedly stripped from him the other pieces of his armor, and I
unhooked it. God in heaven, his huge was only a cramped quarter for his
stallion's weapon.
Only on ponies had I ever seen such a cock! Gorblimey, it was
every bit of 2 hands long, and as round as a wagonpole!
It stuck out, hard as iron and dangerous like a great catapult
between his legs. It was all filigreed with red, and pink, and royal
purple
veins, knotted and gnarled like an ancient oak branch.
He looked at me for a long time. "Now suck it!" he commanded.
I looked up in dismay. "Milord, please, I have never done such an
evil thing," I said quietly.
"Wouldst thou call jacking thyself off in my tower room this
afternoon evil, too?" he demanded.
What? He knew? Seeing my astonishment, he said, "Beware what
thou doest in this castle, young knave. Secret passages and hidden
windows make private activities very public. Dost thou not wish to suck
this
great cock? Answer me!"
Remembering my fantasy of earlier in the day and how my mouth
had watered for his cock, I made up my mind. As answer, I opened my lips
and took that huge, fat, noble organ into my mouth! I could feel it
swelling
up on my tongue.
My first cocksucking! The dark-purple cockhead throbbed in my
mouth. The blavk hole dribbled a thread of sex-liquor.
I fell in love with it. I sucked it worshipfully, feeling
feverish and hot.
The baron was in high spirits. He rammed his hips at my mouth,
and I, almost choked. I relaxed my throat, fighting the urge to retch,
and I
swallowed that big pole until I felt his noble cockhairs, which smelled of
sweat and that heady odor of sperm, scratching at my nose.
He grunted something to me, something in a pleased tone, and he
ran his hands through my hair. I glanced up at the baron's face.
His eyes were closed in either agony, or ecstasy. My head see-
sawed back and forth on his big pipe, and his ass cheeks hunched up with
his approaching orgasm. I licked my tongue around his cockhead, tasting
the sour taste of his piss and pre-cum.
The baron groaned aloud as I worked him over. Again I sucked his
cock in deep, swallowing it down my throat.
I frigged it, too, raising up one of my hands and grasping that
mighty
truncheon. He moaned happily, as I pushed him over the edge.
"Aaaaannngh!" he hissed. I swallowed fast as great gobs of his
royal sperm came shooting out. It did not taste bad, I thought.
I sucked for more. He gasped and panted and trembled. With my
tongue rasping under his cockhead, on that magic spot, I drove him crazy
and made his orgasm last for several minutes.
The baron finally pulled out and back away, sweating, exhausted.
"Naughty boy," he said, "who hath taught thee to do that"?
"No one, Milord, thou art the first."
"Zounds, my man, thou hast the most talented mouth I have ever
fucked," he panted. "Here, come massage my dick as I enjoy the sweet
afterglow of thy suckings." He dropped back onto his great canopied bed.
I crawled up beside him, handling his smoldering cock, placing
occasional kisses upon it, playfully nipping it betimes. "Oh, God," the
baron
gasped, "thou art more than I can withstand! Help me off with these
underclothes!"
I helped him strip off his undershirt (the little slip his cock
had been
slung in had been kicked off long ago). He was totally naked, not a fit
sight
for gentle people...nakedness is the root of all evil because the root of
all evil
grows hard and long at the sight of nakedness (thank God).
I was intoxicated by the sight of his mighty chest, his immense
muscles, the rippled washboard of his belly. My root of All-Evil grew
hard as
a stake. He noticed.
"Do thou strip likewise," he commanded, and he helped me pull off
all my clothes. Soon we looked at each other as bare as on our borning-
days.
"A truly nice cock thou hast," he murmured. "Let me suck from
that."
To my astonishment, His Grace bent his head down and sucked at
my cock, which was as hard as steel. I was so overcome with lust I
blasted
immediately, filling his mouth with my peasant's spunk.
He drank it in, then pulled away. "Cheeky youth thou art," he
laughed, strings of my semen dribbling from his lips. "Now I shall take
my
pay."
He turned me over on my hands and knees. He reached for some
vessel beside the bed, scooped up a handful from it, and slapped it
against
my ass. He had smeared me with grease of some sort.
He moved behind me, and he mounted me like a stallion. I felt his
giant organ pushing up at my tender asshole, and in my aroused state, I
wriggled my bum to help him drill it in.
I could hear him panting behind me, and in his passion he sucked
at
my ear, sticking his tongue into it, nibbling at my earlobe. Nothing had
ever
made me so hot and carnal as that feeling, and when with a grunt he
punched past my tight asshole, the pain, which was excruciating, which
made me cry out, was somehow lessened by the great thirsting need I had
to be fucked by this giant of a man.
With lunge after lunge, he buried his blunt weapon in my gut. The
more he rocked back and forth, the more slimy his cock became, and my
pain grew less and less. Finally the pain was superseded by panting lust.
A great wave of warmth and sexual arousal swept over me, starting
at my asshole, driven by the strokes of my liege lord, the horny warrior.
Oh,
God, that felt so good!
Finally I heard him starting his agony. "Ohhhhhh," he moaned, and
I
actually felt the fires of his ejaculation spreading out from his
bollocks. His
groin felt like an oven, a blacksmith's fire.
In a fever of delight, I felt his poker pumping round after round
of
searing hot semen into my ass. It boiled into my guts, keeping me afire.
He held his cock in me, lying against me, trembling, enjoying
every
instant of his orgasm. I squeezed my ass-cheeks on his cock, prolonging
his ecstasy.
"ah, sweet youth, thou art everything I need," he panted. He fell
back off me onto the bed, sweating and gasping. "Thou shalt sleep with me
every night," he said. "Come here, let me kiss thee." I kissed him full
on the
mouth, tasting some of my own jizzum, feeling his tongue exploring my
mouth.
I stayed with he baron for many years, eating and drinking at his
table, eating and drinking between his legs. When he was slain at the
Battle of Hastings, I wept sore for him for many months.
Ultimately I retired to this monastery. No one could ever replace
the
Iron Baron.
When I finished reading that horny diary, my cock was so hard I knew I had
to cum or go crazy. I pulled my hard dick out and pressed the intercom
button for my secretary. He knows me very well.
Soon we were 69ing on the floor. For a long time we gently sucked one
another's rock-hard shafts. Our bodies floated and our minds spun.
Tongues lapped at swelling cockheads, piss-slits pressed against cheeks
and throats.
In the same rhythm, mouths slid up and down on slick, ever-hotter pipes.
I
was in heaven.
Soon I saw the lust-glaze cover his eyes, his drool slavering down over my
dick, and I knew he was past the point of no return. I, too, couldn't
stop.
He hunched against me for a few moments, and after one big lunge that slid
me back so my head banged against the wall, he let out a long, aroused
groan, and he spit his cum deep in my throat.
At precisely that moment, my cock jettisoned a marvelous load of Old
English spunk, giving him back as good as he gave. God, it was wonderful!
Isn't it great what ancient literature can inspire?
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