Slake: The Black Knight (fiction)

The next installment in Slake's tales of heroism and derring-do. This one is rather obviously inspired by a chapter from Le Morte D'Arthur. In it an evil knight, Sir Turquine, kidnaps Knights of the Round Table, strips them of their armor, beats them with thorns, and keeps them naked in his dungeon. Oddly, I didn't need to add very much in order to make this pornographic.

* * * * *

Once upon a time, in a land forged from gallant chivalry, a knight lay slumbering under a pear tree.

He was in the middle of a particularly pleasant dream when he was awoken by the sound of horses galloping close by. Looking out from the orchard he’d been napping in, he saw a truly peculiar sight. Three horsemen rode through the valley below. Now, that in itself was nothing unusual. What was, was that none of them were wearing a single stitch of clothing! Even more worrisome, they were being plainly chased by another mounted man, this one wearing heavy black armor.

Although the riders rode frantically, clicking their tongues and squeezing the horses urgently with their thighs, it was clear the other rider was catching up to them. Even as the knight--a short and stocky man in his mid-thirties by the name of Sir Boars--watched, the black knight drew close enough to draw a lasso from his saddlebag and began waving it over his head. He let it fly and--oh no!--it looped around the rear horseman’s chest and arms. The black-clad rider tugged, and the naked fellow was unseated to sprawl onto the dirt, knocked quite senseless. The black knight paused his pursuit of the others only long enough to bind the fallen man’s legs and feet as well, ensuring he’d make no escape when he came to, before continuing the chase.

Well, as an honorable knight, Sir Boars could not allow such an unfair contest to take place before his very eyes without intervening. He did not know the nature of their dispute, but the chaser was armed to the teeth, while the men he was chasing were literally naked. Sir Boars wasted no time in girding himself for battle.

Armor was a complicated affair however, especially without the assistance of a squire. By the time Boars had finished his preparations and himself rode into the valley however it was almost too late. The second and third riders had both been ridden down as well and, with the assistance of several bolas the black knight had thrown with great accuracy, were now bound as surely as their companion. All the three could do was protest into gags which had been stuffed into their mouths and squirm on the ground, flexing their muscles against the cords which constricted their movements as the black knight calmly gathered their mounts before returning. They were then thrown over the horses they’d only recently been riding upon. They were riders no longer however, but had rather been reduced to nude cargo as the horses’ leads were all held by their captor, the black knight.

To cement his position of control over them, the Black Knight laid into their hapless rears with a riding crop, seemingly as punishment for fleeing him. Under this brutal treatment, their well-muscled rumps were soon glowing red, and all three were wriggling their hips and crying in pain. In fact, he was just finishing this process when Sir Boars rode up.

“Ho, stranger! What means you by capturing these men? And where will you be taking them?” he demanded.

The Black Knight turned. “And what business would that be of yours . . .“ He stopped when he saw the shield Sir Boars bore. “That emblem . . . “

“As a protector of the weak, I make it my business! Now explain yourself at once, or draw your weapon!” Sir Boars challenged.

But what was this? As he spoke, the horses the men were bound across had turned. While he hadn’t recognized them from the backside, now that they faced front Sir Boars felt he knew these men. In fact, he was sure of it! Why, they were all knights from his own knighthood, the Blazing Sun Knights. “Sir Ghaeris! Sir Persuv! Sir Kaen!” he exclaimed, identifying them as three brothers who he hadn’t heard from in some time. “How came you to be put in such circumstances, and whence has your armor gotten?” he asked in astonishment.

One of them succeeded in finally spitting out his gag. “Oh! Sir Boars! You must help us!” he cried, “This Black Knight possesses unnatural fighting skills, and has defeated each of us in turn. More frustrating, upon our defeats he ensconced each of us in his dungeon, where we shamefully remained as his prisoners! We only just recently escaped together, but since he’s now recaptured us, we’ll shortly be returning to that cruel captivity!”

“Mmph!” “Mmph!” the other two put in.

“What’s that!” Sir Boars bellowed in disbelief, “Knights of the Blazing Sun, defeated and made into captives?! This cannot be allowed to continue!”

“You challenge me, then?” the Dark Knight asked, a certain measure of anticipation in his voice.

“I nearly think I do!”

“That is good, for I tell you this now. I have made a solemn vow to catch each and every one of the Blazing Sun knights and keep them in my dungeon. Since you are also a member of that proud order, it is only fair that you join your brethren.”

“Hmph! An audacious plan, but one you shall not succeed in. Have at you, knave!”

The two knights, one light, the other dark, clashed. Sir Boars wielded a flail which he had some notoriety for, and the Black Knight defended himself with a stout mace which he seemed quite adept with. The three naked and tied-up knights could only watch, their freedom dependant on the duel’s outcome.

“Be careful, Sir Boars! This Knight has already imprisoned nearly half our order within his vile dungeon!” called out Sir Kaen. His brothers also ‘Mmph!’d emphatically.

“Have not a fear, lad! While his strength is great, power alone is no use against right and holy justice--ungh!” While he’d been speaking, Boars was caught by surprise with a blow that nearly unseated him. He righted himself with some effort, but by then the Black Knight had found his momentum. Another blow smashed against the side of his helmet, making his ears ring and lights to appear before his eyes. One last clout, and Sir Boars felt himself falling from his horse, his vision fading to black. “Unh . . . “

“ . . . No! Sir Boars . . . !”

* * * * *

When he came to, Sir Boars found himself struggling to make sense of where he was and what had happened. He kept bumping up and down, and he could see the ground moving below him most peculiarly, as if the earth itself had taken to moving on it’s own and had left him to fend for himself. It took him some few moments to realize that the ground itself wasn’t moving, but he was. Rather, he was being carried. And over his own horse, by the smell of it! He tried to shift his position to one that was more dignified and comfortable . . . and that’s when he realized his wrists and ankles were tightly bound in good, thick rope.

Looking around in confusion, he saw a fellow knight, Sir Ghaeris, in what must be a similar position to his own. The strong man had been tied over the back of his horse, naked, and hung there looking quite miserable at his predicament. Sir Boars opened his mouth to question his comrade and find out what had happened, but all that came out was a muffled, “Mmphlff?” Shock hit Sir Boars. As well as being bound, he’d also been gagged!

As he groggily took in his surroundings, spotting Sir Kaen and Sir Persuv also over horseback, as well as the Black Knight riding in front, memory filtered back to him and he realized what must have happened. Following his defeat to the Black Knight the man must have taken advantage of his unconscious state and taken him captive as well. His armor had been removed and he was now slung over the back of his own horse, tied securely like a common criminal. He could see that the Black Knight had claimed his shield as well, the ultimate humiliation for any knight. Well, normally it would be, at least. The muscular man blushed as he felt a draft, knowing his bare buttocks must be mooning the passing countryside but unable to do a thing about it in his bound condition.

He tried to pull at the ropes, but they seemed to have been tied with great skill, and only the most minute shifts of movements were possible. Not enough to even test the bonds. Though he tried as hard as he could, even his broad and stocky muscles turned out useless in getting him loose. “Mmph! MMPH!” he cursed himself for a fool as he struggled. In trying to assist his comrades, he had merely joined their plight!

“Mmph . . . Mmph . . . “ the others answered him. Though he couldn’t understand their words, Sir Boars felt he could divine their meaning from their earnest expressions. It wasn’t his fault, they were telling him. He had tried his best to help, but the Black Knight had simply been too strong. After all, he had defeated all three of them as well.

Hearing his captives’ muffled “talking” behind him, the Black Knight gave a chuckle. “You three were quite naughty in trying to flee your new residence, but perhaps I should thank you. It was thanks to your escape that I came across another of your fellowship who I was able to add to my collection.”

His face burning with the humiliation, Sir Boars bowed his head as their journey continued for some few hours. Though he would have liked to acknowledge the brothers’ kindness, in truth Sir Boars did feel responsible for their current condition. He was a more experienced knight than they, and should have been responsible for their rescue.

In addition to that, his head was spinning with the repercussions of what he had learned. He and  other members of the Blazing Sun Knights had started noticing it lately. Young and confident knights were always departing on quests, but lately fewer and fewer of them ever returned. Was this man responsible?! Had he been capturing men on their journeys, slowly amassing a collection for himself which the elder knights had been unaware of?

Oh! If only he’d been more focused in his battle, they all could be riding free right now in search of heroism, adventure, and damsels in distress--instead, they were the ones in distress, being helplessly bound and gagged, without even the dignity of a pair of breeches between them. As it was, the most they could look forward to would now be a protracted stay in the Black Knight’s castle dungeon.

Speaking of, Sir Boars could now observe a dark structure of some kind drawing closer through the trees. He buried his face into his horse’s side in shame as a drawbridge lowered and they were all lead through into a keep, his only hope that another member of their knightly order would soon hear about their predicament and arrive to rescue them . . .

* * * * *

“And like I told ya before, pal. I’m just traveling along this road, same as you. I’m not out here maraudin’, or pillagin’, or commitin’ banditry, or anything else you think I’m doing, and, as weird as it feels for me to say, I especially ain’t looking for a fuckin’ fight,” Slake said crossly, squeezing the grip of his club as he glared up at the holy knight.

The knight was a ruggedly handsome man decked out in full platemail and mounted on a white horse. He had a neatly trimmed beard, and red hair which he kept knotted in a celtic braid. Taken together, the man’s armor and steed fairly gleamed, they were so polished. He glowered as leveled his gleaming broadsword at Slake’s yellow eyes. “You think me such a fool that I would believe an ogre such as yourself? Your kind is a scourge upon this and every other kingdom! I think I’d be doing my knightly order a favor by removing your head from your body.”

The blue ogre growled and hefted his club, bringing it behind himself in preparation for a swing. “If you think you can, go right ahead and try . . . “

The two glared for several moments, before the knight sighed gruffly and sheathed his blade. “Alas, we must wait before doing battle. There is nothing I would like better than the satisfaction of slaying you, but a personal quest of my own must take precedent.”

“What? Hey! You serious?” Slake asked. He’d been amped up for a good battle. “What the hell could be more important than slaying a big, bad ogre like me, huh? Hey, I’m talking to you!”

The knight appeared conflicted, as if he didn’t want to discuss it, but then decided to just be out with it as he was in a great hurry. “As it happens, there is a castle quite near here where I have heard certain fellows of mine are being held. Their plight must come before my own glory, much as it pains me. Now excuse me!”

“Yeah? And I think you’re just scared because you know I’d beat your knightly ass,” Slake sneered as he rode by.

The knight wheeled his horse about and narrowed his eyes. “Think what you will, demon, it matters little to me. But if the gods are good, you and I will meet again once my mission is complete. Remember the name of Sir Ectur, for he shall be your vanquisher!” With that, he spurred his horse and galloped off down the road.

Slake stared after him, giving him the middle finger until he was out of sight and the clatter of hooves had died down. “Fucking knights. Assholes. Every world, and they’re all the same . . . “

Well that was certainly interesting.

Slake winced as Wuku’s voice echoed in his skull. I told you not to talk to me unless it was business, ya old lech.

But this IS business! You saw that knight, didn’t you? A more vainglorious paladin you couldn’t ask for, yet he resisted fighting you! It took every ounce of willpower he had to put his sword back in his scabbard!

So what? While we’re on the subject, don’t you think me playing at a hero’s life is pretty retarded when every single “good” aligned race tries to kill me on sight?

Pah! Like you didn’t want him to. But that’s not the point! Think about it, what kind of mission could be important enough that he would give up a chance for honorable combat and leave before the duel has begun? The stakes must be unimaginably high to him, eh . . . ?

Get to the point, old man.

Can’t you hear it? The call of heroism! Follow that knight errant, and you’ll find worthy adventure before the night is over!

Slake huffed. Do I really haveta . . . Fine, if it’ll shut you up.

Ever since he’d struck that sorry deal with the old monkey sage, Wuku had been popping thoughts into his brain more and more often. Especially when his opinion wasn’t wanted or needed. Slake sometimes felt like he couldn’t even squat down for a shit without the monkey putting in his two cents.

Regardless, he started after Sir Ectur, following his tracks down the road bordered by forest on both sides. If he was lucky, Wuku’s hunch was right and there’d be a chance to score another ‘heroic deed’ out of this and get him one step closer to the vengeance he sought. The sooner Slake finished with them the happier he’d be.

* * * * *

By the time Slake reached the castle it was mid-afternoon. It was a tall, dark castle that gave off a foreboding presence, not that he particularly cared since he was used to far worse. There was a moat around the place which wouldn’t prove much obstacle to the water-born Oni, but Slake didn’t see any doors he could use on the other side. That left the drawbridge.

While circling around to the front of the castle, Slake heard the sound of a bell ringing out. A church bell? No, different pitch. It could only be Sir Ectur who’d gotten there ahead of him on horseback. Deciding to gather intelligence before making a move, Slake hunkered down behind some bushes and continued forward on his knees.

“COME AND FACE ME, YOU COWARD!” The knight stood in a clearing, roaring at the closed drawbridge. He continued issuing threats and shouts, banging on a bronze bell between shouts, which seemed to have been set there for that very purpose of drawing attention. After several minutes, the bridge began to lower, creating a span which crossed the moat.

As Slake watched its progress, he noticed a few things. Scattered pieces of armor lay all about the clearing before the bridge, as if an entire regiment of men-at-arms had been stripped naked here at some point in the recent past. In the very middle of the open area was a solitary tree. Dozens of shields hung from its branches, and many bore the same device that shone on Ectur’s--a fiery sun. He wondered what they meant.

A warning to others, most likely. Or perhaps a boast of prowess, said Wuku, answering his silent thoughts.

Who asked you? Slake thought-snarled back.

When the bridge finally clattered down, the lord of the castle rode across it in full battle gear. He appeared the opposite to Sir Ectur in every way. Where Ectur’s horse and armor gleamed a bright white, this man’s were both obsidian black. Where the emblem on Ectur’s shield was a sun, this man’s bore a crescent moon. While Ectur’s face went uncovered to show his handsome and noble features, this man wore a helm which obscured any trace of his appearance. The only thing Slake could tell for sure about him was that he radiated a grim, dark aura.

“Declare yourself,” the black knight spoke.

“Sir Ectur de Lionel!” replied the man. He hefted the lance he bore. “I have come to free my fellow knights from captivity within the walls of your castle!”

“Ah,” the black knight said. “From your shield you can only mean the Blazing Sun Knights. You are a foolish and prideful lot, but your shields do make such good ornamentation for my tree, don’t you think?” he chuckled mirthlessly.

Ectur growled at that. “What have you done with them, villain?”

“They are quite comfortable, I assure you. Each has a pair of shackles to call his very own. If you wish to know the path to the dungeon where they are kept however, I’m afraid I must refuse. I will carry that information with me to my death.”

“So be it, then. My path is clear,” Ectur said grimly. “I will show you the true might of my order and, once I have unhorsed you, I’ll force you to lead me to my comrades and set them free from their unjust imprisonment!” He set his heels to his white horse, and charged.

Slake watched as the two charged full tilt at each other. They met in the center of the bridge, and lances met shields with mighty cracks, but each was deflected. The knights reached the opposite end of the bridge from where they’d started turn, and turned their fierce mounts.

“Unjust?” the Black Knight replied once he had done so. “Each of your brothers knew the price for challenging me and losing . . . as do you. But, if you are so eager to add your shield to my collection, so be it. There are always an extra pair of shackles which could use a prisoner,” the black knight replied. He lowered his lance to charge again.

“Nay! You have acquired your last trophy, knave!” Sir Ectur vowed, though it was unclear if he meant his shield or his own body. Regardless, he did the same and again they met with a fierce ring of lances against shields.

Care to place a wager on this little joust? Wuku echoed in Slake’s mind.

Who cares? was his annoyed reply.

Sir Ectur and the Black Knight both withstood two more encounters like the first. The fourth charge was where things changed. Instead of impacting in the center of the black knight’s shield, Ectur’s lance skewed high and to the right. His blow glanced off the shield and caught the black knight in the shoulder. The man was nearly unseated by the blow, but he hung on with a grunt. He gave a nod of his helmeted head acknowledging the blow as good.

“Impressive. No other from your knighthood has endured more than four of my charges. And to actually strike me . . . “

“Prepare to be impressed further, my foe, for I declare the fifth charge shall be our last!”

The black knight nodded. “Agreed . . . “

One last time they rode at each other, their horse’s hooves beating heavily upon the wooden bridge. Ectur’s hotheaded declaration turned out to be true, but not in the way he had meant it. The sound of cracking wood greeted him as his lance finally gave in to the excessive force it’d been straining under. It shattered against the black knight’s shield in a shower of splinters. The black knight’s lance however struck true, and issued the fiercest blow yet to the very center of Sir Ectur’s shield. It was enough to knock him from his steed, and he landed with a great clatter of metal in an armored heap. “Ungh!”

The black knight wheeled his mount once more, and regarded the fallen man. "You fought well, Sir Ectur, but you are not the one who can defeat me. In thirty battles with your brethren, however, none have lasted as long as you. I grant you this choice. Serve as my liege man and I shall spare you."

"What?" Ectur looked disbelieving.

"Disavow yourself from the Blazing Sun, and serve none but me."

Laboring under the heavy armor he wore, Ectur got to his knees and roared defiantly. "Never! My allegiance will always lie with the order I have sworn my life to!"

"Very well. Then you shall join them in bondage!" The Black Knight spurred his mount forward.

Ectur lifted himself shakily from the wooden bridge and reclaimed his feet, drawing his broadsword to face him hand to hand. In tournaments, if a knight were dismounted then his opponent continued the battle on foot to keep things fair. But this wasn't a tourney, as Ector soon realized when the Black Knight came galloping towards him. The man ran him down before clouting him in the left shoulder, repaying Ectur for the hit he’d scored earlier. One more blow to the back of the head and Sir Ectur tumbled to the ground, knocked out and vanquished.

Still hidden behind cover, Slake leaned forward to see what happened next. As he watched, the black knight dismounted and approached his defeated challenger. He knelt down, and began removing the knight’s armor. Piece by piece was unfastened and discarded until at last Sir Ectur was rendered completely naked. He had a buff and beefy body, for the most part covered in fine red hair. Hefting the unconscious man up, the Black Knight placed him over his own mount like a sack of grain.

Sir Ectur groaned, but didn’t stir, as the Black Knight next got out some rope and bound him securely to the horse stomach-down, with his muscular backside high in the air. He was left there as the Black Knight bent down to retrieve his shield from where it had been struck away and brought it the tree standing in the clearing. The knight hung it there almost reverently, before letting out a dark chuckle. “My collection is almost complete,” he said. Slake noticed there weren’t very many branches left that didn’t have a shield hanging from it.

The Black Knight then returned to his prisoner, gave a gloating slap to his tight bottom, and lead both horses back inside the castle. Bobbing up and down, the nude Sir Ectur came along for the ride. He was about to discover the location of his captured brethren, but unfortunately for him not in the manner he’d intended. The drawbridge rose up with mighty creaks until the only way into the structure was sealed once more, leaving Slake alone on the outside.

Well that was certainly . . . something, he thought, re-evaluating his understanding of what had happened. He took in the tree again, now seeing not just a bunch of shield but each representing a strong, powerful knight defeated, tied up, and locked away naked in some dungeon somewhere.

Slake . . . why didn’t you intervene! Wuku’s thoughts sounded flabbergasted. You just allowed that noble knight to get taken prisoner right in front of you!

. . . Intervene? Why should I? The way I see it, that black knight or whatever is just defending his turf from these knights who won’t leave him alone. Hell, I’ve done worse than that to those who’ve challenged me . . . heh.

That’s not the point! That black knight is evil! The Blazing Sun Knights are good! As a hero, it’s your duty to oppose evil wherever you find it!

Whatever. So what do you want me to do? Challenge ‘im myself and show up Sir Ectur? I could still use a good fight . . .

You always can . . . Very well, I suppose force is the only way you’re capable of using.

“Heh,” Slake let out an audible chuckle as he strode up and rang the bell to signal that another challenger had arrived.

* * * * *

They had somewhat of a wait before the Black Knight revealed himself. Slake imagined he was busy installing his newest conquest into the appropriate bondage chains, and wouldn’t come out until he had finished doing so. Poor Sir Ectur, right? To fill the time, Slake just kept ringing that heavy bell, letting the sound of it wash over the whole castle.

After about twenty minutes had passed however, the drawbridge finally started to lower. Slake set his shoulders and grinned as the Black Knight rode across.

“Two visitors in one day?” the mounted man asked. “At this rate my dungeon will run out of room.”

“Yeah yeah. I’m guessing you know the drill by now after doing it so many times. I, Slake the Oni, challenge ya,” Slake announced.

“You?” If the horseman’s face had been exposed, it could be imagined he was raising an eyebrow. He took in the Oni’s muscular blue form, wearing no armor--or even clothing, other than a small fundoshi--and carrying no weapon other than a heavy iron spiked club. “But . . . you are not of the Blazing Sun. You are not even a knight.”

“That a problem? What, you’re not one of them discriminatory kidnappers, are ya?”

“Hmm,” the Black Knight mused. “ . . . While it’s true that I am only interested in collecting knights, perhaps I could find a place for you, ogre. . . . Yes, perhaps holding an evil creature like yourself would make the knights I have shine all the brighter in their shared captivity. I suppose it’s worth a try.”

“Heh. Well I’m glad that’s settled then. It’s just too bad for you, I got no intention of getting captured here. It’s you who’s gonna lose today, and then I’m gonna get what I want outta ya.”

The Black Knight chuckled grimly. “If I told you how many men I have heard recite similar sentiments to me, would you believe? Enough discussion. You have challenged me, and will pay the consequences!”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Slake said with an eager grin. He readied his club, swinging it behind his head and waiting for the Knight to ride over. One good swing would take out his horse in one shot. Seeming to sense that intention, the Knight dismounted. He removed a great sword from his back and held it with both gauntleted hands.

“Come at me, demon,” he commanded.

Slake didn’t need to be told twice. He hurtled forward, slamming his club straight at his opponent. “Eat this!” There was no way a weak human could block such a hit.

But to his surprise, the Knight not only defended himself but stopped the Oni dead in his tracks by bracing his sword. The clang of their heavy weapons rang out through the forest and castle grounds, sounding louder than the bell had earlier.

“How . . . “ Slake muttered.

“Your strength is impressive, but not unmatched as you can see,” the Black Knight said smugly, countering by raising his weapon overhead to bring it down in a fearsome chop.

“Grrr! You’re gonna need more than strength, buddy!” Slake raised his own weapon, defending himself. He let out a grunt as the sword hurtled down, and had to use all his strength just to avoid getting vivisected. This could be bad.

A bit overconfident, were we?

You keep outta this!

The Knight attacked again, and Slake stepped to the side to dodge. This time he was the one who countered, bringing his club up and against his abdomen with a hard *crunch*. Getting a rib fractured however apparently didn’t faze the knight, as he raised his blade again and forced Slake back with another slash, this one leaving a cut across his hairy chest. The Black Knight continued on the offensive, making Slake keep stepping backwards to avoid his mighty swings.

Dammit . . . how the hell is he so strong! No human can fight like this!

I am thinking perhaps the reason he keeps his face covered is to hide the fact that he is not human . . .

The Knight kept attacking, and Slake kept retreating, blocking as best he could with his club. But eventually he could retreat no more, as he felt something hard and rough up against his back. Looking up, he saw the glint of polished metal. The shield tree! He’d been backed right up against it, and now had nowhere else to go. He grimaced as he raised his club, waiting for the blows which would likely end his dreams of vengeance before they’d really gotten started . . .

That attack, however, never came.

Slake lowered his weapon, confused.

The Knight was standing a good ten paces away, waiting for Slake to come to him. He didn’t seem willing to come any closer.

Why the fuck is . . .

Slake! The tree! He doesn’t want to harm the tree! I can sense a vast source of magic from somewhere close to you. I think he’s drawing power from it! That’s why he’s so strong!

The tree, huh . . .

But what was it about the tree? Slake was no botanist but it just looked like an ordinary plant to him. There must be something special . . .

“What are you waiting for, demon? Have you turned coward? Attack me, if you dare!” the Black Knight said sternly when he saw Slake looking around himself.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be right with you,” Slake growled, waving him off.

The shields! THAT’S why he’s stripping the knights of them! Each shield he hangs in the tree makes him even stronger! Slake, knock them down!

Slake grinned. “You got it, old-timer.” He raised his club, and started to swing it into the branches above. Shields came clattering down, as well as twigs, leaves, and whole branches.

“NO!” the Black Knight shouted. “Stop! My collection!”

“Yeah, I get the point of your ‘collection’ now. You use the shields as a conduit for the knights you’ve defeated strength, right? They’ve all got a connection to their shields because they love what they stand for, which makes it easy to focus on. You’re sapping ‘em of their strength while they waste away in your dungeon!” Slake knocked as many off as he could reach, but there were still plenty hanging in the higher branches. Regardless, he lumbered forward again, swinging at the Black Knight. It would have to be enough.

The battle went far differently this time. Though still fighting with great skill, the knight seemed weaker than before and couldn’t completely block Slake’s blows. He grunted as the Oni forced him back. When they reached the center of the clearing where the ground was level, he chose to make his stand. “I’ve beaten over thirty proud and holy knights! I will not be beaten by a mere ogre!”

“We’ll see,” Slake said grimly. Putting every ounce of strength into his next swing, he knocked the great sword out of his hands. Another blow, and the Black Knight was sprawled on the floor, groaning. Slake raised his club to deliver the finishing blow.

Wait! Stop! Wuku interrupted just as he was about to swing down. Don’t kill him!

Slake angrily checked himself. Make up your mind. What’s the problem NOW?

You heard what that Black Knight said before. Only he knows the way to the dungeon where the knights are held prisoner.

Yeah, so what? Slake asked, eyeing the fallen knight who lay groaning on the ground, gathering back his senses.

So you can’t kill him! What if they’re being held somewhere you can’t find? Or in order to reach them, you need to know about a secret passage or something?

You really think that’ll happen?

The point is, you don’t know! As a hero, it’s your duty to cover all possibilities.

So what do you suggest? Slake asked testily. Every second they spoke gave the Black Knight another second to reclaim his bearings. I doubt he’ll tell us if we ask nicely. Should I torture it outta him?

I suggest that . . . you allow yourself to be taken captive as well.

WHAT?

It’s the only way! If you do, you’ll be taken to where the others are. Then you can free them from the inside.

Slake huffed and considered. This hero business made his head hurt the more he thought about it. He watched as the Black Knight slowly staggered to his feet. He didn’t know what manner of dungeon the evil knight might possess. Could he really free himself from it if he was taken prisoner? More to the point, was freeing these goody two-shoe knights he didn’t even know worth taking such a risk?

He regarded the Black Knight before him.

Then he drew his club back, held it, and swung so hard that it knocked the guy’s head clear off his shoulders.

“Fuck that,” he said out loud.

* * * * *

“Nnngh . . . “

“Oh, look! I think he’s coming around! . . . Ectur! Sir Ectur!”

“Ahhh . . . what . . . ?”

Sir Ectur groaned and slowly opened his eyes, his head pounding. What had happened to him? The last thing he remembered he’d been battling the Black Knight . . . Memory returned to him in a flash. Oh no! He’d lost! Looking up, he saw his wrists shackled over his head in cold iron. Looking down, he saw he’d been stripped utterly naked, and that his ankles were constricted as well. Most confusingly of all, a metal ring of some kind was fitted around the base of his manhood, which was . . . hard. Very hard.

“Ahh . . . ! WHAT . . . !”

He pulled at the chains, trying to break them with his strength, but they were bolted firmly to the walls of this . . . dungeon. He was trapped here, made into some sort of prisoner like the rest of his order. What was the meaning of this?!

“Sadly, there’s no use struggling, Sir Ectur. Many of us have been trying for weeks . . . “

Ectur recognized the voice of Sir Boars, an older member of the knighthood. He knew him as an outgoing, friendly man, always with an ale in hand and a dirty joke to tell about his days as a squire for the lecherous crown prince. Now, however, the man was like him--naked and bound, in his case with ropes wrapped securely around his thick arms and legs--and twisting weakly.

Looking around, he recognized the rest of his order surrounding him, though he had trouble believing his eyes. The Blazing Sun Knights were a chivalrous order, known for their prowess in battle and the white armor which reflected the goodness in their hearts. They were honored throughout the land, with most unable to make it through a single village without being notified of a quest to be set out on, an evil monster to slay, or a wrong to be righted.

Now however they just looked like a troupe of bound and helpless muscle slaves.

It was hard to believe . . . No, impossible! Except here he was.

Everywhere he looked, there was another once proud knight, a man he knew as a brother and comrade, now a naked hunk made into some sort of vulgar spectacle with the use of ropes, chains, cords, and numerous other materials. Each was creatively tied in a different fashion, giving the sense of an endless variety to the ways in which a man could be brought down and made to submit. Some were strung up from the rafters, others kneeling in stocks. Many were gagged, with only the occasional muffled “mmph” coming from them as they struggled stubbornly. A whole row of his groaning brothers were tied over a bannister, broad asses facing up and looking as if they’d recently been spanked. A selection of straps and paddles lying next to that station lent further credence to the assumption.

The more Ectur looked about however, the more he began to realize there was one point of similarity he and all his brother knights shared . . .

For some reason they all had raging boners.

“It’s these metal rings,” Sir Boars explained to him as his gaze got stuck on one engorged member after another. “We think they must be enchanted to keep us hard. Makes it more difficult to struggle. And also . . . “ He didn’t seem to want to go on.

Ectur twisted his arms in his chains. “And also?”

“Because . . . he likes it.”

Ectur snarled at that. “The Black Knight, you mean!”

“Yes. He comes down every so often to . . . play with us,” Sir Boars blushed, and his erection bobbed up and down. “He calls us his ‘collection’.”

“COLLECTION?!” Ectur roared. The very word angered him. They were proud and valiant knights, not some manner of collectibles to be captured and displayed! Their shields were one thing, but to collect the men themselves who wielded them. That was nothing short of the starkest depravity! And it went completely against the code of ethics which guided how captured knights and nobles were to be treated in the civilized world.

It enraged him so much that he began struggling and exerting himself once more. He yanked at the chains which bound him, gritting his teeth as he strained with his strong, muscular arms. The short length of iron didn’t give him much slack however, making the attempt useless in the end. He threw his whole body forward in an attempt to loosen the bolts which connected his bonds to the wall, but that was no use either. All he did was rattle his chains and exhaust his body with the repeated attempts and, in the end, he slumped back, breathing hard. His dick lay throbbing and flat against his stomach, as if mocking his attempt to get loose.

“I’m sorry . . . I’ve failed you, my brethren. I came here intending to rescue you all . . .“

Sir Boars merely shook his head sadly. “It’s not your fault, Sir Ectur. If overconfidence was your downfall, well--we were each caught in his snares, one and all. But . . . I’m afraid this is the end for the Blazing Son, my comrade. You were the greatest fighter among us, and our hopes were all riding on your skills. But, with you here now, there is now no one left to defeat the Black Knight . . . “

Sir Ectur’s heart sank, as he couldn’t help but agree with the older knight’s assessment. He’d been out on a mission when the Black Knight had begun his reign of kidnapping. When he’d returned home to the Blazing Sun’s Keep, he’d found it eerily empty, with only old men and young squires left to guard the ancestral home. When he’d heard of the rest of his order being abducted, he’d ridden out at once to rescue them, like any good knight would. He’d lost that battle however . . . and now that’d also been captured like the others there was no one left to stop the Black Knight from taking anyone else he pleased!

He looked around himself once more, at all his caught brothers. The entire knighthood, so effectively brought to its knees. No . . . They were knights no more. They’d been turned into a perverse parody of their former selves. Where once they’d ridden forth uncontested, they had now tasted defeat more humiliating than any other. And at the hands of only one man! The unthinkable man who’d . . .

From above, he heard the metallic clank of a heavy door opening, and then the fall of heavy footsteps navigating stone steps.  “Oh! He’s coming!” Sir Boars gasped.

Sir Ectur braced himself. That would be the Black Knight, surely, come to taunt and check in on his new prisoner. Perhaps even . . . ‘play’ with him. The brave knight swallowed a lump in his throat. He wasn’t sure what manner of playing the evil man might have in mind, but from the way Sir Boars had spoken of it, it could not be pleasant. Would he be able to withstand the tortures?

. . . Yes! He must! He was a proud knight of the Blazing Sun, and he would never give in to evil simply because he happened to be in a helpless and humiliated state in some dungeon. He would be a disgrace to his heroic order if he did. Ectur swore to resist with every ounce of his considerable will.

When he opened his eyes to behold his captor however, it was not the Black Knight he faced. “YOU?!” he said in shock.

“Who were you expectin’, the maid service?”

Rather than the castle’s master who Ectur had valiantly fought against, and lost to, outside the castle walls, it was the blue ogre he’d met on the road beforehand who stood there looking smugly down at him. Sir Ectur struggled in his bondage. “What are you doing here, beast! You work for this castle’s dark lord then, do you!”

Slake rolled his eyes. “As if,” he said, “For a courtly knight, you sure shoot your mouth off a lot, don’t you . . . “

“Do you know this . . . creature, Sir Ectur?” Sir Boars asked at his side. All around the dank room, naked and muscular knights were twisting in their bindings curiously, looking over the big Oni who’d come into their midst.

“We’ve . . . met,” Sir Ectur admitted, grimacing slightly. “We traded insults on the road and he challenged me to a duel. In my haste to arrive here and rescue the lot of you however, I was forced to decline.” He narrowed his eyes at Slake. “How come you to be here, if you are not allied with our foul captor . . . ?”

“You know, it took me a good half-hour to find this place,” Slake commented, not bothering to answer Ectur’s question. “You all better be grateful I bothered.” He smirked as he admired all the various ways the knights had been left to rot in their cells, their hard muscles useless to them here, and their rigid members fat and pulsing under spells. “Hey, not a bad set-up down here.”

“Not . . . bad . . . ?” Sir Ectur shook with rage as the Oni made light of their confinement.

“Yeah, though I’ve seen better. The King where I come from . . . well, you guys wouldn’t last long in one of his dungeons,” Slake frowned at an unwelcome memory that brought up, then brushed it from his mind. He grinned as he found a paddle and picked it up, tested its balance,then swatted it across one of the muscle-bottoms bent over together for that purpose.

“Ohh!” the spanked knight groaned and squirmed his red and sore buttocks. Slake didn’t stop there, but rather took his time and gave a firm swat to each man in the row. He got a good yelp from each, and they all shifted around in discomfort. Since they were all helplessly tied down, they were naturally unable to prevent him from punishing them as he pleased.

“Grrr! You say you are not in the Black Knight’s employ, yet here you are toying with us as he would do!” Sir Ectur shouted.

“Way I see it, you guys deserve this anyway for being stupid enough to all get captured together, and by just one guy,” Slake pointed out, laying down more whacks while the knights wiggled and howled in pain. “I’m doin’ you a favor here.”

“We can do quite without favors such as these! If you truly wish to assist us in our plight, find the keys to these shackles which bind us! Either that, or convince the Black Knight to give us a second chance at a jousting match so we may defeat him and win our freedom that way!”

“Defeat the black knight, eh . . . ?” Slake rubbed his stubbled chin. “Sure would be nice if someone could do that, right?”

“Of course it would!” Sir Ectur bellowed. “But seeing as his strength is unstoppable, it would be a nigh-impossible task for any one man alone.”

“Really,” Slake said.

“True, only a sworn knight could even stand a chance,” Sir Boars agreed.

“Ah, so only one of you fancy knights can beat this guy, huh?” Slake folded his broad arms bitterly. “Lemme ask you fellas a question. How many of you even wounded ‘im?”

After a pause, a few of the ungagged knights spoke up, relaying the tales of minor scratches or blows they had managed to leave before being overwhelmed and captured. None of them had managed to deal major injuries, and most had only lasted one or two passes before going down.

“I lasted four passes, but on the fifth I was unhorsed,” admitted Sir Ectur, who had performed the best of them all. “I did however, give him a sharp blow to the shoulder.”

“Ah! To be expected of our strongest champion. I could not even last one pass and wounded him not at all,” Sir Boars admitted. He then looked to Slake. “And what of our blue-skinned demon here?” he asked shrewdly. “Or . . . am I incorrect in thinking you too have fought our vile captor?”

“Eh . . . ?” Sir Ectur shot his fellow a questioning look.

Slake inwardly growled as they all turned their attention back to him. “I knocked his head clean off,” he said flatly.

The knights stared.

“Well, his helmet. Turned out he had no head.”

They continued staring.

“Turns out underneath all that armor he was just a disembodied spirit. He had some beef with you guys, kept ranting ‘bout how the Blazing Sun wronged him in his last life. Can’t say I paid much attention.”

“So you . . . he is dead now?!” Sir Ectur asked with a gasp.

“Way I figure it, he was dead to begin with. But yeah, he’s dead in the way you mean, too,” Slake affirmed with a smirk.

“You . . .” Sir Ectur’s voice trailed off. Then it was replaced with a sneer. “You expect us to believe such rubbish!?”

“Excuse me?” Slake frowned darkly.

“There is no possible way you, a mere ogre, could defeat the Black Knight where we brave and true knights failed!”

“Sir Ectur! Perhaps we should hear this ogre out,” Sir Boars counseled. “After all, while we are all bound like chattel on our way to market, he walks free.”

“Hmmm, perhaps . . . “ Sir Ectur conceded, but he continued to scowl at the Oni. “But it is still an unbelievable flight of fancy, and he should know better than to spread it to men such as we. Even children would not believe such a tale! To think an untrained ruffian like him could manage to do battle with the Black Knight and escape unscathed, while we were captured one and all. It’s preposter--MMPH!”

The other knights looked at Slake in shock, as the Oni had just snorted and stuffed a gag in Sir Ectur’s mouth. “Geez, and to think I was actually going to rescue you holier-than-thou assholes,” he grumbled as he turned around to leave.

“W--wait! Sir Ogre!” Sir Boars shouted after him. “You’re not going to just leave us here, are you?”

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Y--You’ve come all this way! Please, do not let the words of one . . . brash and hot-headed man doom us to rot within these dank walls. You must set us free!” The panicked knight was gratified when Slake paused at the foot of the stairs, and he gave the ogre a brief smile. “We would be willing to . . . repay you for the service in any manner we could . . . “

Slake considered for a moment, noting now how all the knights (with the exception of the indignant and gagged Sir Ectur) were looking at him with hopeful eyes. It would almost be a shame to set them loose, they all looked so cute like that, abandoning their pride for the moment and all their erections straining. True, stripped of their weapons and heavy armor, they looked like just any other slave collection. But their worth came from their elite status prior to capture. “Perhaps . . . “ Slake said, and a slow grin formed on his face as he stepped forward. “But I’m gonna have fun with you all first . . . “

* * * * *

Slake, this isn’t exactly the way a hero is meant to behave . . .

Ah stuff it, ya old fart! I deserve a reward for going through all that shit for these guys. And as long as I free them once I’m done it still counts as a heroic deed, right?

Slake was smirking as he gripped two of the many knight’s shafts on either side of himself, expertly stroking them and making the bound men moan together. He’d already gone ahead and gagged each and every knight held there, having decided all their constant griping about goodness and justice really got on his nerves. A third knight’s round backside was stuffed on his blue cock, getting vigorously fucked as the fellow struggled helplessly in his ropes and tried to conceal his surging boner which for all his protests seemed to love the treatment.

About half of the caught knights had been milked completely dry by now, and their naked and sweaty bound bodies were covered in a coating of their own spunk in the aftermath of the many excruciatingly powerful climaxes brought on by the brawny Oni. Though each had struggled against it, the enchanted cock rings ensured none were able to resist Slake’s rough hands as he groped and squeezed their bodies, jerking and forcing them to relentless orgasm.

Judging from their lustful groans, after a token period of resistance many gave in and even enjoyed it. How vulgar, for dignified knights such as these to take pleasure in the hands of an ogre, though that was likely due to the long period in which they’d been unable to get off themselves while held prisoner. Looked like men were men, no matter their class or station.

He’d taken particular pleasure in doing Sir Ectur, who had grunted defiantly into his gag the whole time--at least until the sobbing had began once he was slung over Slake’s broad knee. He got the spanking of his life, and by the time Slake’s hard palm lifted for the last time both his handsome and muscular buns were beat as red as ripe cherries. He’d come as well, humiliatingly splattering Slake’s thighs as he was roughly fingered afterward, without even any attention paid to his cock. He’d been left with a dildo sticking out of his rump, red-faced and unable to face his brother knights. Sir Boars beside him had been so aroused at watching the whole thing, in the end it only took a few seconds for his cock to burst as well, spraying both him and Sir Ectur with seed.

Slake’s own manhood was straining the pouch of his fundoshi as he worked his way around, giving each once-proud and dignified knight personal treatment until they felt as dirty and used as cheap bar room whores. He got off on it, he had to admit, bringing these men down a few pegs. This was one group of knights who wouldn’t look down their noses at him in the future--not without blushing red in the face at least, remembering this day and the price they’d had to pay to earn their freedom.

I suppose a deal is a deal . . .

Damn straight. Slake thought-growled. Now quit interrupting me, will ya? I’m trying to have fun!

* * * * *

Wuku grumbled as he broke mental contact and settled behind his desk at the top level of his mountain temple. He still wasn’t completely sure that the heroic life suited Slake. Perhaps his augeries had been wrong?

But no. The signs had all been present. Like it or not, Slake was destined to perform great deeds in his life. He just needed a little push down the right road in order for it to happen. Well, maybe a big push.

Regardless of the ogre’s ultimate destiny, Wuku decided to summon a mystic lens with which to view the action. He watched as the buff, powerful Oni took such enjoyment in showing the arrogant knights their place, as well as teach them a good lesson in respect. The monkey sage sighed as he opened the front of his robes to let his own hard cock spring out. Grasping it by the base, he began to, slowly, jerk himself off.