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- lja,
I am Supreme Commander of the military forces of the kingdom of Mythos. Our armies rule the world as we know it. Our people are as prosperous as the starts in the night sky. I could walk a lifetime in any direction and not leave lands under our control. Those that dare oppose our might we crush and enslave.
Mythos is ruled by the phallus. Or, more bluntly, by the King's cock. The phallus is our god and only religion. All life stems from it. The hierarchy of the kingdom is determined by the size of a man's member and his testicles, then by the amount of semen he sprays in a single orgasm after two days time without release. By these standards our current King, Titus, has the largest cock in Mythos, and thus the world. He ascended the throne when his father died.
By our laws the queen of Mythos is the woman who can take the King's cock without dying, become pregnant by his seed, and bear him a son. Titus is entering his 60th year and has still not found a woman capable of accommodating his member without succumbing to internal bleeding. The kingdom is becoming concerned that a queen may never be found and an heir will have to be chosen from the male population. A competition of the cock that has not been necessary in many, many years.
I am perhaps the only person, besides the women who receive my seed, who knows that my cock is larger than the King's. Flaccid, our cocks are roughly the same and since Titus' bloodline has ruled Mythos for more than 2000 years, his legitimacy has never been questioned. Since a direct comparison of our erect cocks would be paramount to treason, I am content for the moment to bide my time and remain Commander of the military. My name is Sartorious and this is my story.
We begin in the King's inner sanctum where the fate of the kingdom, and thus the known world, is decided daily. On this particular afternoon in late spring the usual assortment of military men and politicians were reclining on plush divans inside their private tents in the darkened sanctum. Torches burned sweet incense inside the dim room; young slave girls brought food and drink; Titus was on his throne with the Dama at his feet.
Our King is roughly six and a half feet tall. He wears a salt and pepper beard and short curly black hair. The hair on his chest is trimmed short across his pectoral muscles; golden bands encircle his biceps, which are roughly the circumference of a man's thigh. From the waist down he wears a heavy robe emblazoned with the royal seal and the Mythian colors of red, gold, and purple. The throne on which he rests is deep and flowing ivory laced with red veins.
Were you to pull back the robe over his legs you would see Titus' cock rolling down from its root between his legs, over his testicles, along a channel carved into the throne fit to his particular dimensions, over the edge of the throne, and dangling approximately six inches above the ground. Beneath the head of his uncircumcised snake is a golden bowl which collects the supply of pre-cum which flows steadily, at all times, from his cock. The pre-cum is used in religious ceremonies and to anoint virgins before they mount Titus.
Mythos is ruled by the phallus. Or, more bluntly, by the King's cock. The phallus is our god and only religion. All life stems from it. The hierarchy of the kingdom is determined by the size of a man's member and his testicles, then by the amount of semen he sprays in a single orgasm after two days time without release. By these standards our current King, Titus, has the largest cock in Mythos, and thus the world. He ascended the throne when his father died.
By our laws the queen of Mythos is the woman who can take the King's cock without dying, become pregnant by his seed, and bear him a son. Titus is entering his 60th year and has still not found a woman capable of accommodating his member without succumbing to internal bleeding. The kingdom is becoming concerned that a queen may never be found and an heir will have to be chosen from the male population. A competition of the cock that has not been necessary in many, many years.
I am perhaps the only person, besides the women who receive my seed, who knows that my cock is larger than the King's. Flaccid, our cocks are roughly the same and since Titus' bloodline has ruled Mythos for more than 2000 years, his legitimacy has never been questioned. Since a direct comparison of our erect cocks would be paramount to treason, I am content for the moment to bide my time and remain Commander of the military. My name is Sartorious and this is my story.
We begin in the King's inner sanctum where the fate of the kingdom, and thus the known world, is decided daily. On this particular afternoon in late spring the usual assortment of military men and politicians were reclining on plush divans inside their private tents in the darkened sanctum. Torches burned sweet incense inside the dim room; young slave girls brought food and drink; Titus was on his throne with the Dama at his feet.
Our King is roughly six and a half feet tall. He wears a salt and pepper beard and short curly black hair. The hair on his chest is trimmed short across his pectoral muscles; golden bands encircle his biceps, which are roughly the circumference of a man's thigh. From the waist down he wears a heavy robe emblazoned with the royal seal and the Mythian colors of red, gold, and purple. The throne on which he rests is deep and flowing ivory laced with red veins.
Were you to pull back the robe over his legs you would see Titus' cock rolling down from its root between his legs, over his testicles, along a channel carved into the throne fit to his particular dimensions, over the edge of the throne, and dangling approximately six inches above the ground. Beneath the head of his uncircumcised snake is a golden bowl which collects the supply of pre-cum which flows steadily, at all times, from his cock. The pre-cum is used in religious ceremonies and to anoint virgins before they mount Titus.