Epic of the Month- Anjusgard Bjallsunackson's story

Portrait of Anjusgard drawn with the charcoal from charred Wyrm boners, circa AD 150.

I walked slowly, limping, each step a fresh holocaust of agony. The dragon tooth lodged in my thigh was throbbing like my wiener after a game of cock-slap with my mightiest brothers, battle-hardened warriors who could give a cock the thorough slapping it deserved. Slapped so hard that it might as well have been a fat, bloated maiden, back-talking her superiors. The kind of slapping only a viking can administer, where foreskin is taken firmly in hand and choked like you'd hold a little kid's collar after he pissed you the fuck off, and the helmet is slapped firmly and without malice until it learns its lesson.

"This dragon tooth is about the shape of Magnus's cock, and just as white!" I laughed out loud, thinking of my friend's pasty member.

"Aye, tis a cock whiter than the driven snow, as pale as a fair red-headed lass!" Bjolner bellowed, grasping his ample hog from under his loin-girder thingy and brandishing it like a claymore. He was a solidly built warrior, eyes like wolf's piss, a beard so grizzled and long it looked like an elderly elephant's ballsack, and an asshole so impossibly puckered that lemon juice actually made it relax. A hardy man, built for battle and banging assholes sideways. A beast with a beast tied between it's legs, ready to ravage any anus that wondered into it's territory. I licked my lips, forgetting the dragon tooth lodged in my leg.

"What say we hunker down for the night?" I offered.

"Tis only midday!"

"Aye, seems like it be getting dark though."

"Tis bright as the gleam on a freshly lubed helmet!"

"Mayhaps my eyes grow dim with the cold."

"The air be on fire, tis like dragon's breath!"

"Tis..." I thought for a moment, palming my own ass cheeks. I lined up my fingers like soldiers, then sent them on deep recon into my anus, one by one, until all five of the brave little bastards were wrist deep in brown town. Bjolner gaped.

"Let's fuck!" I yelled, using my other hand to beat my bare, sweaty chest, pounding my dick-hard right nipple until the bottom of my hand started to bleed. Bjolner wasted no time...