My Boyfriend Is A Barbarian! Part 1

[Esperanto Lives]

MY BOYFRIEND IS A BARBARIAN!


PART I: THE PRISONER OF FROSTFANG ISLAND


The first thing I noticed about him was the same thing that everybody first notices about him: he rides a polar bear.

It had a rough winter saddle on its spike-steel armored back. When a twitchy valet moved to guide it among the snowmobiles, the bear snarled at him with deafening loudness. The hunky stud slapped it on the neck, and the polar bear held its head down as penitent as a puppy hit with a rolled up newspaper. The bear tried to nuzzle his side with his huge head, and the stud scratched behind its ears, that made it shut its eyes with the experience. It made a low, mournful cry when he walked away from it.

The next thing I noticed about him, is that when he came in to the bar, he ordered a milk. He even said please. In a place like this, that’s like advertising that you want to get an assbeating. But if the old, grizzled arctic hands that came here to Northpoint had anything smartassed to say, they kept it to themselves. He didn’t seem like the type to mess with. It’s hard to describe why, but he made men uncomfortable around him, the same way a very large predatory animal does. He didn’t seem “tame” at all.

The third and last thing I noticed was...oh, Gods of Ice! What a body!

Confession time: I’m nuts for beefcake and muscle studs. A big, testosterone-dripping he-man with a chest that can crack walnuts between them makes me crazy like a cat in heat. Battleship-big arms, big, round sequoia thighs I can cling to...it makes me purr involuntarily like my feline ancestors, just like getting kissed on the back of my neck or on my stomach.

The barbarian had a manly scent, a husky and virile muscle-musk. I could see he had not shaved his black-forested, virile armpits, so he could to trap his natural male pheremones. It was overpowering to say the least; I could feel my nose flare like a mare with the scent of a stallion, and my slender dancer’s legs clench tight and go white-hot.

I was a stripper at Felix’s, but I felt like I should be stuffing dollar bills down his white furry underwear. Since diamonds, gold and other things were discovered here at the North Pole, we’ve had all sorts of scruffy characters, old arctic hands and tenderfeet alike, come in on the weekly Zeppelin flights here to Northpoint. He didn’t look like the kind of guy that was after a snowmobile or sled dogs for a polar jaunt.

My jaw almost hit the ground when he took his outershirt off, my pupils dialated until they were the size of dimes. I could feel my nipples pop to hardness with a ker-SPLINK! Ker-SPLINK! Oh, baby! I could lick those abs all night and leave lipstick on ‘em. They looked like a furroughed, deep brick wall.
He was a head taller than even the bouncers and ducked his head under the door. His upper body had a small, narrow waist and big, bowling ball-sized shoulders, so wide he had to turn them to the side to go through a doorway. His torso burst out from his small waist into a v-shape, with a defined, cut back that looked like a topographical map of the Arctic Mountains. His massive, thrusting pecs leaped six inches out from his breastbone, and I almost felt like giggling when I saw them twitch and clench and bounce. Except for an “X” meeting in a metal breastplate in front of his torso, he didn’t wear anything on his upper body except a white spotted snow leopard fur cape held to him with a pair of gold claspers. His lower body had a set of furry solid white undershorts, and he had gorgeous platinum ornaments that wrapped around his big arms. He gave the appearance of a martial, warlike god of the icy north. His forearms were shaped like pears, far more massive at the elbow than wrist. His biceps were boulders on his upper arm, hard and firm even when unflexed into a mountain peak-point.

He had a handsome, masculine and youthful clean-shaven face, and on his head a leather circlet and headband to keep his wild black hair in place. When he shook his monster shoulders, it was like a lion shaking its mane. He had a thick, deep neck, and I felt myself grow white-hot between my legs when I heard him speak his deep, commanding and masculine bass voice from his muscled up larynx. On either side of his neck were a pair of trapezius that looked like a zeppelin parked on either side of his neck, sloping like a pyramid. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of bluish-green I had ever seen. He had a gaze that was almost unsettlingly intense, like the look of an eagle. His skin was pure bronze-gold, glistening as if he had gold dust tattoed in him. His legs were the sexiest I had ever seen: his thighs had teardrop-muscles that looked as thick as tree trunks, and his calves were like two oranges stuffed behind his legs.

The darkhaired stud wore over his shoulders an anti-neutron beamer and a huge, silver-metal weapon handle, that I couldn’t identify on sight. He wasn’t unique. Everyone in Northpoint went armed because it was so dangerous. Of course, part of the reason it was so dangerous was because everyone went armed...

I twirled on my pole and tossed my white hair back and listened to the men talk. A lot of it was about the stranger that rode in a polar bear, all of them trying not to stare.

“He’s Argon, the Hyperborean.” One said. “Heard that one’s story a while back...he was born here at the North Pole to his noble-born explorer parents, who raised him away from men’s evil ways. He’s the strongest bastard that ever lived.”

“I can see that!” Another said.

“I’m serious, Pup! That one could wrestle a polar bear hand-to-hand and break its neckbone like glass. He’s a wild man, more animal than human. He’s defied all the perils of the arctic: cannibal Eskimo, Yeti, Ice-Golems...”

“You hear too many tall tales, Grak!” One said. “You musta gotten frostbite for the brain, you old sled dog.”

“Didn’t I tell ya I only listen to only half I hear? But by all means, Pup, bother that one and just see what happens. He’ll pull your arm off like a chicken leg. As a matter of fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s the prisoner that escaped from Frostfang Island, the Ice Queen’s prison mountain. Rumor has it one fled to in this town. That’s why the Frosta’s forces have been seen around here so much lately...”

The last comment made me smirk like a cat that just ate a canary. No man ever escaped from the prison at Frostfang Island. The more I heard, the more intrigued I was by the stranger. A romance holocube heroine would have been coy and thought of ways to get him to notice me. But I’m not that type. I tighten my jaw and I FIGHT for what I want!

You might want to hear a little more about me. My stripper name is Snow Kitty and that’s as good a name as any. I’m a Catholian. Yes, I heard a SPROI-OI-OING right there from all you “catgirl” fetishists now. Boners ahoy!

But I want you to know I’m a real person – a woman, not a girl, thank you - and not just a sex object. Sure, you see the sexy ears and tail. And yeah, we don’t generally get fat like human women sometimes do. And you’ve heard the bedroom jokes, how we’re all freaks in bed. But we’re real people. Try to imagine your home country sinking under the sea, and being a refugee your whole life. An exile, without friends or protection or a country of your own. An almost extinct race that probably won’t survive your generation, scattered all over the world.

Not so sexy now, is it? And that’s why I don’t generally date felinophile guys. If Argon was a felinophile, I wouldn't hold it against him though...hell, if he had a harem, I'd join that! Still, there is a place to scratch me right on my back...And I gotta say, I am pretty kinky and love to try new things. And I’m bisexual, a sexual omnivore.

I’m very dark, caramel-mocha tanned, which offsets wonderfully my pure snow-white hair, from which my cat-ears come out. My lips are bee-stung and thick, and have a beauty mole right next to them. I have an hourglassed body, a narrow, tiny, flat and hard waist with a cute little bellybutton, and big, wide womanly hips that give me coke-bottle curves. My ass is a point of interest for the guys: they love how it’s like a pair of globes together, a pair of bowling balls stuffed under my skin that pushes back and out so very far. It shifts and badonks when I move.

I’m pretty buxom, too, perfectly trenchlike cleavage for holding tips in this particular line of work. They’re big ones, too, brassy and defiant, thrusting out like zeppelin nosecones, real cup-busters. I’m told they go FWOOM. FWOOM. When I move.

My best feature is (believe it or not) my voice. It’s a gift. I have a husky, thick whisper that oozes sex and lust, a growl and purr at the same time, a “bad girl” voice with just a little hint of a Catholian accent for exoticism. I’ve been told I could convert gay guys to straight with my breathy voice. And I talk, I can get a guy so stiff and solidified between his legs he gets crosseyed and can barely see straight.

I dropped to all fours atavistally when I approached him, with all the sexy boldness I could muster. I was wearing a pure silver wire-mesh, fishnet body stocking that was perfectly see-thru, and my sole concession to modesty was a pair of silver fishnet fuck-me pumps that clopped on the ground, the only thing I wore underneath was a brassy lycra thong that climbed up by 44” hips like floss. There was a hole cut in the material for my tail. I pressed by body against his like a cat keen for some human warmth. I silently thanked that Felix had gotten the electric warmth filaments that lined the place working again. It was hot as a jungle in there, instead of the North Pole.

I moved up and sat on his lap. At first, I couldn’t believe what I felt! It was like a big log inside that furry underwear of his, a monster dick that was like a third leg, dangling when soft an inch to his knees. A solid hot bar that started to rise with a vibrating twinging like a string being plucked, rising to the surface like a floating log, and I could feel it stir while I sat my big hips and butt on his lap, like a fist tapping me.

This was too good to be true. Handsome, muscular, with a big dick. He was as big as a walrus or a Musk Ox. Bigger – he could make ‘em feel shrimpy if they went to a shower room together. It was so girthy, solid, like a steel girder or a tower.

I whispered hotly in his ear. “Do you believe in love at first sight? Or do you want me to strut by you again?”

He smiled. The barbarian did something then that I thought was so sweet my heart melted, especially since it was so unexpected. He pressed his nose to mine like an Eskimo kiss. I could feel the heat of his breath on my face. It was electric.

He smiled. “Why, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen!~ If you want some credit coins for a drink, I have a few in my polar bear’s saddle.”

Usually it wasn’t wise to not keep your money on you around here, but I got a feeling anybody that tried to get close to that bear was going to get his arm ripped off for his trouble.

“Naaah.” I wiggled my finger. “This one’s on me. A freebie on the house. Call it the handsome stud discount.”

I wrapped my arms around his big, Atlantean shoulders. I was awed at how hard they felt; his muscles felt like rocks in a pillowcase, wafting with heat, and so cut I could run my finger and feel each shredded muscle like strumming a finger over a ball of yarn. “Rumor has it around there somebody escaped from Frostfang prison. You know anything about that? You seem like the type.”

He only smiled. “Ice Gods! What, I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
I moved my prehensile white tail around to the inside of his thighs and massaged them with friction, tickling and running underneath the massive human forearm it seemed he was packing in there, around his testicles. I could feel them. No wonder he was fearless. They were big brass ones for sure, with lemon-sized testes alone surrounded by hot, churning mass. I rubbed him right in the spot between both of them.

Like I said: if I couldn’t turn him on, he didn’t have switches.

“What’s a nice cat like you doing in a place like this? Especially when there’s a war on?” He said.

“Wouldn’t know it around here.” He said. I pressed my hand to his giant pecs, as I massaged them. I could feel him bounce and twitch them under my hand, watch them explode with size on his naked torso like bursting dynamite. I pressed and nuzzled my head against his chest. I slipped my tail right under his chest, and I was amazed to see how many inches it went in before touching his chestbone.

I started to kiss his abs, leaving a trail of silver lipstick. He could shrug a belly punch, they were built like armor plate. I dropped to the ground and I could feel my hips responding, as I clenched between my long legs his big, massive one. I felt my hips go by themselves as if there was a motor between them as I felt myself hump his leg.

“There’s something different about you.” Argon said.

“Yeah? That’s cause I can make you feel so good, big stuff. I’m pretty flexible and I used to be a dancer you know...It’s cold out here and I can keep you warm.”

That I could. Sweat went between us, and pooled down my back to the narrow small of it. With my contortionists’ flexibility I wrapped my long feline legs around his hard naked waist and squeezed. It felt as unyielding as an iron column.

Suddenly the handsome young barbarian sprang up from his chair to his full, towering height. I held on and with my firm claws, I started to climb his big, hard body as if it was terrain until I was on one shoulder. At first I wondered if he was high on Lotus Powder or something like that, but I soon realized what it was. Argon not civilized, and he was unnerved by things animals were unnerved by: changes in the weather, the coming of earthquakes, the presence of death. His powerful body tensed, and his big gliderwing-wide monster back rolled and his pecs twitched and bounced one by one. Every muscle burst like a popcorn kernel and twitched like a sackful of live cats.
The ground beneath a table tore and broke, and the table itself fell and was swallowed by a huge hole in the floor. The lip of the hole spread, and one of the barmen fell in. There was no scream. It was as if he ceased to exist.
Up from the lip came a thing only in the most general shape of a man, with no face except a pair of eyes and a slit for a mouth, with a colorful mushroom cap above the eyes. Behind him came another, a jet-black, glossy Minotaur on cloven hooves that stomped the ground. When the Minotaur turned and I saw the right part of his face, I had to withhold a scream: it was chrome metal, with a red mechanical eye. The minotaur’s arm shone with polished steel, and in place of the hand was a spinning, cone-shaped earth-drilling device.

A gold-metal blur so fast my eye could not follow leaped from the hole. The robot distanced himself away from the other two, as if merely being around them would give him a disease. His rapid movements were a strobe flash, economical, without wasted movement, computer precise.

The Mushroom Man’s face showed genuine surprise at the sight of Argon. He had an expression like a person that reached his favorite restaurant only to find it closed. “Argon the Hyperborean?! Curses!”

“Looks like we might actually have to fight fair this time!” The cyborg minotaur said.

The Mushroom Man suddenly stood with his feet wide apart. He appraised the room, saw only me and Argon after the others fled, and a swagger entered his voice. “Argon, give me the Moonsword right now! You can’t use all of its powers just on its own!”

Argon, my barbarian hunk, withdrew the silver metal blade handle from his waist with a flash so fast it was like his hand was empty one moment and filled the next. There was a hum and a buzz as his his moonsword’s energy blade expanded into a solid bar, a pure silvery-white glow the color of moonlight filled the dimly-illuminated strip club. There was a spark between the metal cutlery on the tables, and I could feel my metal fillings vibrate and ache.

“Sorry Mushroom Man, but do you know how hard it is to find a Moonsword in my size?” With a dash as quick as a cheetah the distance between the two was instantly closed, as he leaped in a jump from his powerful, thick legs that shook the ground, as he hurtled acrobatically through the air as quick as an artillery shell.

There was an instant yellow-gold flash as t he Mushroom Man flicked on his gold-handled Sunsword. The barbarian collided like a freight drain, but with his sword smashing against the Mushroom Man’s, it was as if Argon hit a solid brick wall. The crackle of Moonsword against Sunsword sparked and crackled with tendrils of lightning. The air itself smelled like ozone.

“Ah, hey there Mushroom Man! Seems the Ice Witch sent you in charge of a scouting party. Congratulations, you’re moving up in the world. Boy, being second banana to Frosta must be a hard piece of humble pie for you to swallow...”

For a moment Mushroom Man’s eyes had murder in them. “You’re trying to get me upset, but it won’t work. Brash, impulsive, primitive young savage...you don’t even know what this is all about, do you?”

Their energy weapons swirled in a solid fan, crescent shaped arcs, smashing against one another in collision after collision. The barbarian fought on the offensive, with aggressive, crashing strokes driven by his battleship-piston powerful arms. Mushroom Man, on the other hand, fought defensively, his weapon flashed to protect himself. He lost ground, step after step.

The Moonsword’s silvery-white energy blade began to wink and flicker in and out like an electric light with a dying battery. Argon smacked the bottom with his palm, only to have it fade entirely.

Mushroom Man laughed, with a cunning light in his eyes. “Just as I hoped, you savage! You acted without thinking, so you didn’t remember this time of year at the Arctic Circle, there’s sunlight eighteen hours a day. I doubt the batteries on that have had time to get enough moonlight...”

The Mushroom Man’s blade hissed and tore through the air with savage rip after savage rip. He found his courage now that he faced an unarmed foe.
The barbarian put his sword hilt away and laughed right in Mushroom Man’s face, his agile, limber, and supple body ducking and bobbing and mocking each of his sword-swings.

“Do your worst, Fungus-Face! What are you going to do? Give me the worst recorded case of Athlete’s Foot? You too, Bullseye! I’ll take you both on at once, Moonsword or no. God, I have nowhere near exhausted all the ‘cow’ puns I have...”

“By the Great Spore, enough of this! Combatron, would you get the girl...and not fail again? Or do we have to turn you in for the warranty?”

“I’m too perfect to fail.” The gold robot said. With a hum of gears at his joints, he advanced on me in a way I did not like.

Mushroom Man approached him from the front, and the cyborg minotaur from behind, cornering Argon between them.

The minotaur spoke with a bellow and a beat of his chest. “We ain’t after youse at all, wild man. We want the cat-girl! You gullible rube, you bought her act hook line and sinker. I don’t know what she told you, what name she gave you...but she’s Felina. A master spy. The escaped prisoner from Frostfang and we’re here t’get her back and what she stole from us.”


...TO BE CONTINUED IN THIRTY DAYS’ TIME!


In Thirty Days, join us for Part II, including jungle-hot, eye-rolling good barbarian sex on animal skins, (some of!) the secrets of Felina revealed, and the muscle growth origin of Argon the Hyperborean!

(Ha! You didn't seriously think I'd have the growth in the very first episode, so you could blow your load and then duck out on the rest of 'em, did you?)

Be here in thirty, Esperantiacs! By the Tower of Fandor, don’t miss it!

As always, any comments or suggestions are appreciated. Remember: us muscle lovin’ artists and writers don’t get paid with money. We get paid with comments! And I do use your suggestions, to be sure.

I hoped to experiment with a different format with this story: serialize it instead of one big story. I hope it was successful.

Also: for those of you wondering (so you can stop asking!), I’m very pleased to report I’ve already written BIG DRAGON III, or BIG DRAGON: MODERN THESEUS. Expect it by the end of the week!

[billy3802]

wow very cool so far sooo luv the catgirl idea sounds great

[howardbeatman]

Really enjoy your tongue-in-cheek tone in this story. Looking forward to the next chapter and BIG DRAGON III.

[horsedicksk8r]

Great story, I'll be counting down till the next installment!

[ClarkSavageJr]

Nice! I love your sound effects and mind-spinningly deft details.

I'll gladly join the crowd in waiting for Part II!

[mman]

Creative and arousing! Way to go Esperanto Lives!

Your tone is so professional and I always gor for a story with a female - be she feline or not - going for the Enormous He-Man.

[Esperanto Lives]

Originally Posted by howardbeatman

Really enjoy your tongue-in-cheek tone in this story. Looking forward to the next chapter and BIG DRAGON III.

This one's got to be funny, because BG: MT is going to be pretty weird and a little dark. One of my beta readers said in an email, "I don't think this has ever been done, to my knowledge, in a muscle growth story."

Thanks for the kind words, although I find it interesting that in a story with a hot, wild barbarian stud in furry underwear the thing people respond to is the "cat-girl."

All the female "POV" characters usually represent me, in some way. And I make them superhot and desirable because I'm an egomaniac.

[ClarkSavageJr]

Originally Posted by Esperanto Lives

This one's got to be funny, because BG: MT is going to be pretty weird and a little dark. One of my beta readers said in an email, "I don't think this has ever been done, to my knowledge, in a muscle growth story."

Thanks for the kind words, although I find it interesting that in a story with a hot, wild barbarian stud in furry underwear the thing people respond to is the "cat-girl."

All the female "POV" characters usually represent me, in some way. And I make them superhot and desirable because I'm an egomaniac.

Of course it's not like any of us are BIASED, eh Espy?

Yeah...YOU know what I'm talkin' 'bout...

[iceman75]

I am a big fan of your stories EL, you always use the most fantastic descriptive terms and of course I love the fact that the girls in your stories are almost as fit as the men, if not as fit, being a guy who digs strong women and don't see them often enough here, its always cool to see a story like yours. Another reason I hope to see BD 3 soon as well, since the Greek Goddess really got my attention.

[ts1976]

So glad you're back! I always love your stories! Such sexy fun!

[chocomus]

Nice! this is the beggining of a good story, need moar!!!!!!

[BB-61]

Fan for life here!
Sorry guys, but this is the best darn stuff of the forum!

[Strykor]

May we please have an update soon? I feel that we have been tortured enough waiting for the next installment.

[chicken legs]

Hey i love your story and cant wait till the next chapter...

I am also a fan of your work..

[SouthernSuitor]

I love the descriptions and the ironic tone--and, not to mention, hot!

[Bull]

Very creative and fun!

[Reynaldo]

Great story..I really like reading it so thanks for sharing it here and i hope you will post your next story very soon...Good luck for the future...