Barbarian Tales - Books 1,2 & 3 (Gay Erotica Anthology)
Konan, the great barbarian, is legendary throughout the ancient world for his huge size, his strength, and his appetites. He is a famed lover of men, taking them wildly and often, and in his wild, free, wanderings and adventures he finds many men who have longed to meet him, and be fully known by him. But there are also men he meets who have whatever magic it is that makes Konan want them also. More
Konan, the great barbarian, is legendary throughout the ancient world for his huge size, his strength, and his appetites. He is a famed lover of men, taking them wildly and often, and in his wild, free, wanderings and adventures he finds many men who have longed to meet him, and be fully known by him. But there are also men he meets who have whatever magic it is that makes Konan want them dangerously too. And none of them are ever the same again once they have been taken and filled by what the great barbarian has to offer.
This book combines the anthology Barbarian Tales Book One with the two novellas, Barbarian Tales Book Two – Journeys Begin, in which Konan discovers men and tells how he grew to be such a giant of a man, and Barbarian Tales – The Inheritance.
Warning: This book is for sale to Adult Audiences Only. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes including dubious initial consent, anal sex, gay love, violence in context, and graphic language, which may be considered offensive by some readers.
As I bathed at the trough by the well in the courtyard, I sang a song my mother used to sing to me when I was young and she was still alive. An old song from her childhood.
After a day working in the fields, I was carefully washing the dust and sweat from my body in preparation for the coming night, as this day marked my passing into adulthood, and tonight there should be celebrations, and tomorrow I should come into my inheritance. This was the custom, because though my father still lived, I was the only son of an only child who was a female, and whose father, my grandfather, had owned the great farm that spread out for many leagues from the well in the courtyard where I bathed. His father, my great grandfather, had built the fortified farmhouse about the well and extended the lands his father had left him. But I doubted I would ever become master of the place, and I sang not from joy but to keep away the fear of what might happen to me that night, and to recall the good times when my mother and grandfather still lived.
“I am weary from the road,” a stranger’s deep voice said, startling me from my brooding, and I spun about.
A man, no, a giant, a god, was walking toward me. His golden hair curled about his face, his skin was golden, his body muscular and of a great size, but graceful as a cat. I was almost overwhelmed by the sight of him, for I confess that I greatly admire men of beauty. And he was truly magnificently beautiful.
Gathering my wits, I greeted him as our customs required me to. “Welcome stranger,” I said, my eyes traveling all over his magnificent body, his only clothing a pale leather loincloth and the belts that secured his weapons upon his back. “I am Hilaron, only son of Margaret, daughter of Mortho . . .” Then I hesitated, uncertain for a moment, before I continued with pride, “. . . who today will become master of this house. If you come in peace, you are welcome here,” I said, as was the custom in our region, and I was suddenly gladdened to speak with pride of my lineage and inheritance to even one stranger on that special day.
“I am Konan, and yes, I come in peace,” he replied, “and thank you for your welcome, Hilaron, son of Margaret, daughter of Mortho and master of this fine house.” His response thrilled me, and I was aware of his eyes exploring my nakedness as plainly as mine had explored him. “I have traveled far and am weary of the road and seek a bed for the night.”